You shall treat the stranger who sojourns among you as a native, and you shall love him as yourself. (Leviticus 19:34)

Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ, for he is going to say: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me ” (Rule of St. Benedict and Matt. 25:35).

It takes a degree of courage to walk into a church as a stranger. It takes a degree of risk to show hospitality to a stranger. When we are a stranger, we tend to revert to those basic adolescent questions, “WIll I fit in? Will I feel at home or will I feel like a lonely outsider? Will I call attention to myself?”

Hospitality is a step beyond friendliness with its social niceties, The spiritual practice of hospitality is rooted in empathy and compassion for the stranger, which in Biblical times meant someone not from our tribe – someone with different customs and even values. Hospitality recognizes the loneliness and the awkwardness of the stranger and treats him or her like a “native,” that is, like “one of us.”

So when you see a stranger at church, first ask God for the grace to show hospitality. A simple doorway into hospitality on Sunday morning can be, “Would you have time to join me for a cup of coffee after the service?” Then accompany the stranger into the coffee hour and offer to get a cup of coffee or a refreshment. Spend a few minutes getting to know the person. Then you will be able to scan the room and help him or her connect with others.

Afterwards, follow up – a phone call, an email, a text message, a note, a visit, a rendezvous for coffee. You never know, you might be “entertaining an angel unawares” – that is, someone who carries a special grace or message for you.

Strangers may come back once or twice because of the sermon or the music. Strangers may stay because the community welcomes them and helps them feel like a “native.” And do not forget to keep the person in prayer. You might find some amazing things happening,

I found this short article helpful. You might wish to check it out: http://au.christiantoday.com/article/the-lost-art-of-welcoming-the-stranger/11994.htm

Isaiah of Jerusalem lived in anxious and dark times. He was aised during the tail end of a period of prosperity and peacefulness in Jerusalem under the reign of Kjng Uzziah, but things began to unravel following the popular King’s tragic death. That same year, the youthful Isaiah had a vision in the temple during the time of the offering of the evening incense. This vision resulted in a sense of call to speak the truth of God to a leadership that had lost the confidence of it’s people because of its anxious reactivity, and a society that had become cynical and fragmented. A mega power to the east, full of the most sophisticated weapons of mass destruction, was threatening. Times were hard economically and the government could not agree on a course of action.

In these dark times Isaiah spoke words that have resounded through the ages and become the leitmotiv of this sacred season through the artistry of composers of the likes of Handel.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

The vision was of a prince of peace…but prince of a particular kind of peace.

Later, Augustus Caesar would be called the Prince of Peace, but the Latin word for Peace – Pax – would mean the kind of peace won through military might, retributive justice, strict control, and the prosperity of some at the expense of others.

But the word, Isaiah used was a much deeper and more complex Semitic term, shalom. Shalom was to be the foundation of the throne of the prince of peace.

I have come to believe that the vision of, and the yearning for shalom, or in Arabic, Sala’am, which comes from the same Semitic root, is what underlies the Judaeo, Christian and Islamic faiths.

I have also come to believe, that a worldwide organization like Rotary, transcending religion, culture and language is united by dedication to the bringing forth of shalom/ Sala’am.

So let’s take a couple minutes to travel through the rich landscape of shalom and see what we find.

Paradoxically, the doorway to shalom moves through the landscape of anxiety. Theologians, philosophers and psychologists will tell us that the underlying cause of most pain is rooted in anxiety. “Fear not…be not anxious” is found in most holy writings.

Anxiety is our automatic response to a sense that our survival is threatened – physical, emotional, psychological. The same automatic response can be generated by both real or imagined threats.

Anxiety can become chronic when we are continuously deprived of what we need to sustain our life and our humanity – things like safety, health, boundaries, food, emotional nurture, respect for who we are in creation, the expression of our gifts.

Shalom is the sense of wholeness that comes when we have enough to be free from the constant drumbeat of anxiety which can overwhelm our thought and actions s that we just react, constantly strike out like a serpent or amass endlessly rather than reflect out of our higher brain.

Shalom means a sense of enoughness. We now know that children who are not given good enough emotional and physical nurture early in life, or whose boundaries are assaulted continuously through emotional, spiritual, intellectual, physical or sexual abuse, grow up with a sense of profound inner emptiness that never feels that it can be filled. This emptiness creates an immense craving in adulthood. Emotional emptiness can issue forth in a craving for endless recognition, material things and relationships. But tragically, there never seems to be enough to fill the emptiness.

Emptiness and violation can also create immense envy and anger which seeks to turn the tables on others. if invested with power. many who grow up with this sense of emptiness can spend thscapegoats finding scapegoats on whom they can discharge their anger by making them experience the same or greater pain.

Shalom, on the other hand, means physical, emotional and spiritual health. It is rooted in being loved and appreciated as we are, with our particular personality, gifts, abilities and frailties. When Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist in the River Jordan, he came up out of the water and heard his heavenly Father say to him, “You are my beloved son.I am so proud of you.” No conditions.

When I was a child we would vacation with my father’s closest childhood friend, Henry Howell, and his family. Henry was a political force of nature in the Sixties and Seventies. But to me, as a child, he always had an affirmative word, “You are the best of the west and the feast fo the east.” Larry Sabbato and I both knew Henry in this way and it had profound effects on our lives. He embodied the forcefield of shalom – affirmation and appreciation.

Shalom means we have what we need to be creative as God is creative. We are free to use our gifts to give life and joy and prosperity and healing to others. As the writer William Blake once said, “Creativity is the highest form of spirituality.”

Shalom is rooted in a sense of a God of grace, forgiveness and redemption. Grace, in that there is a source of wisdom, empowerment and love that is beyond and within us. Forgiveness, in that we will fail, we will stray, our lives will get off course, but there is a home of welcome and understanding always waiting for us. Redemption, in that even our mistakes, our failings and the failings of others can be sources of new understanding, more abundant life, and compassion for self and others.

Shalom is profoundly associated with enough work to be creative and enough space, quiet and rest for reflection, renewal, building community and care.

Shalom was rooted in sabbath rest. We cannot enjoy shalom without sabbath rest – opportunities to step away from production and commerce, time just to be, time to take in as opposed to giving out. Sabbath was a commandment, because God realized that our anxiety and resulting compulsivity will never allow us or others to step away without it being commanded.

Ultimately, we do not know shalom unless others know shalom. Despite the individualism of our post modern period, we can have all the food, housing, creativity, dignity, freedom, health rest, safety, emotional care and nurture, sabbath rest, but if others do not, we will never know its fullness or richness. If nothing else, their resentment, anger, anxiety, attacks, pain and deprivation will keep us in a constant state of anxiety ourselves, with the resulting misunderstandings, conflicts, scapegoating, endless self protective strategies, tribalism. and wars.

So shalom’s greatest richness is found in being drawn out of ourselves to serve others. Jesus said, I come not as one who is served, but as one who serves. Abraham provided his best to three strangers not of his tribe and found they were messengers of God bringing a whole new life of abundance.

Isaiah spoke of a prince of peace, one anointed to bring shalom. Christianity sees Jesus as embodying this prince of peace, but it also believes that the spirit of the prince of peace can spread out to all peoples like fragrant perfume can fill a room with it’s beautiful aroma.

Kwanzaa sees seven values of African culture as contributing to shalom: unity, self determination, collective responsibility for one another, cooperative economics in which no one is left out of the abundance, creativity and faith in a power of love beyond ourselves.

Whatever our faith tradition, we as Rotarians can see ourselves as anointed to bring shalom in very practical ways. Using this word in a non gender specific way, we are to live our lives as princes of peace.

At Hanukkah, the first candle that is menorah the menorah is considered not to count. It is the candle from which all others are lit, day by day, until the room is filled with light. It is so easy in a world of such need for peace to become convinced that the seemingly paltry light we might contribute does not count for much. It is so easy to drop out and become contribute to the post modern cynicism.

But the beauty of Rotary is that we come together, week by week, we contribute our so called useless bit of light, a dollar here, a dollar there, a bit of time here, a bit of time there, our joy in being together, celebrating victories and sorrows. So, like the candles of Hannukah, we light up the world with the light of peace. And so I say to you, Shalom, Happy Hannukah, Merry Christmas, Blessed Kwanzaa, salaam aleikum, peace go with you this holiday season. And pray for the divine spirit to become princes peace, small flames of light wherever you may be.

Today at 10:00 a.m. we are laying aside our usual celebration of Holy Eucharist for the traditional Advent Lessons and Carols. Earlier in the year, our organist, Dr. Allen Shaffer, asked if we could have a Lessons and Carols on the Fourth Sunday of Advent, and I jumped at the chance. This will be Allen’s last Christmas with us at Christ and St. Luke’s and he wanted to offer this tradition one last time during his tenure, but on Sunday morning for a change.

Christ and St. Luke’s “brand”, if you will, is beauty, Last night I let Matt into the church to set Up for recording today’s service. Walking into the church in out of the evening’s darkness, I heard him catch his breath at the beauty of the space. Add our beautiful music and you have a gift that is utterly transcendent and soul nurturing.

The late mythologist, Joseph Campbell, postulated once that religion began when humans created for the sake of beauty and not just functionality. In this stressed out world addicted to the bottom line, yet not entirely knowing what the bottom line delivers, our souls are starving for beauty. Without the experience of beauty, I maintain, our souls wither, our humanity becomes a thin shadow of what it could be, and our language becomes cliche’ ridden, rather than deep and rich. Without beauty, our hearts fail and our compassion withers.

I suspect our forebears knew this. That is why there is so much in the Hebrew Scripture about the details of the temple in Jerusalem. They knew that without a care for beauty, God’s glory would remain hidden.

Yesterday, I went to the Apple Store at the Mall. Steve Jobs believed that technology needed to be wed to beauty. As I was walking out of the store, I drew pleasure from the simple beauty of the bag, the packaging, and even the design of the keyboard I was purchasing. This commitment to beauty came out of Job’s spirituality and he was obnoxiously uncompromising aout it.

So today we will feast on the beauty of God through music. And it will begin Allen’s last Christmas with us. Over the years, he and the choir have provided such beauty, transforming worship into a “world of wonder in which it is very easy to fall in love with God.”

Next year, we will have entered a whole new era in music and worship. The road leading there makes people anxious, and it makes me anxious – anxious to maintain our commitment to the excellence of soul-nurturing, beautiful music. Like Steve Jobs, we must be uncompromising.

Fortunately, we are blessed with an excellent and uncompromising search committee headed by John Ford and Melissa Thrasher West. The committee has done a wonderful job so far in distilling the essence of the mission of our music, the core values that have made Christ and St Luke’s such a spiritual and cultural center, and a sense of where we need to go to feed the souls of new generations. We have a huge task of discernment and limited resources to work with. But we are clear that we must be uncompromising about our standards. Beauty and excellence in music and worship must continue. They are our unique gift to the soul of this Hampton Roads community.

Here is what the search committee has discerned in their work so far:

MUSIC PROGRAM PROFILE
CHRIST & ST. LUKE’S CHURCH

1. Continue excellence in musical offerings.
2. Increase diversity in musical offerings, appropriate to a variety of liturgies.
3. Maintain and enhance our leadership role in the Arts Community.
4. Improve our intergenerational involvement and reach, including but not limited to youth.
5. Work closely with the Worship Committee.
6. In addition to the Adult Choir, introduce additional choir(s)/instrumentalists, including but not limited to youth.
7. Increase musical offerings outside of the church building; e.g.: Stockley Gardens, Lychgate Garden.
8. Tap into lay resources in the congregation for assistance.
C:\Users\melissa\Documents\C&SL Music Director Search\MUSIC PROGRAM PROFILE v2.doc

MUSIC DIRECTOR PROFILE
CHRIST & ST. LUKE’S CHURCH

REQUIREMENTS:
1. Masters in Music
2. Organ and Vocal/Choral Training
3. Vocal and Instrumental Conducting Experience
4. Administrative Experience
5. Three to five years’ experience in Church Music

PREFERENCES:
1. Director/Assistant Director in a mid-to-large church/cathedral/school
2. Experience with youth choirs
3. Composer/arranger

As we continue to meet, please feel free to use this blog as a way to offer your observations, concerns and feedback. I will take what you offer right back to the committee.

Have a very Blessed Fourth Sunday of Advent – Mary’s Sunday.

Entitled, Not Every Spirit- A Dogmatic of Christian Disbelief, he approaches systematic theology through the exploration of what we do not believe as Christians. I am finding this to be a refreshing approach and more timely than some of the theologians who formed me thirty years ago.

Our first gathering with Richard is this afternoon, so I am sitting in Stella’s – yes you heard it – not Starbuck’s, reviewing the first two chapters.

Here is what jumped out at me:

“Today, if one thinks of the church internationally and ecumenically, we hear many voices raised from various quarters essentially repeating the words of Tolstoy, ‘I have no doubt there is truth in the doctrine, but there can also be no doubt that it (church doctrine) harbors a lie; and I must find the truth and the lie so I can tell them apart.’
A teaching that may be true when heard in one cultural context with one understanding can be false when heard in another cultural context with another understanding. And …the people whose voices are being raised most often are those who have experienced an intolerable contradiction between the life to which the gospel calls them and what they see in specific instances being done in the name of Christianity. Their witness is to say, ‘No.’ “
Christopher Morse, Not Every Spirit: A Dogmatic of Disbelief (New York: Continuum, 2009), 12.

Yesterday afternoon Cathy and I ventured off this thin strip of sand, accurately named the “Hotel District,” to head to the center of the city sixteen kilometers around the perimeter of the lagoon. Cathy had finished the one novel she had brought and was in search of more books in English.
Cathy had heard the only nearby option was a Walmart in town.

The bus that stopped in front of the Royal Mayan complex, where we are staying, was nearly empty when we paid our seventeen Pesos and sat down. But as it stopped in front of each hotel, more and more people- mostly hotel workers, boarded the bus until it was crammed. A tired looking woman grabbed the handle by our seat, so I said, “Signora, por favor” and offered her my seat as I joined the crush of bodies in the aisle. As much as we have enjoyed the exquisite beauty and filtered water of this American compound where we are staying, it felt good to be among the residents of Cancun.

Walmart was- well – Walmart, albeit in Spanish, and Cathy was disappointed to find no books in English. But then the adventure began,

We were heading toward the door when a friendly employee called to us in perfect English with very little accent. His name was Angel and he had been part of a study program that rewarded his 4.0 average with an opportunity to change places with a high school student in Chicago – for four years. I figured Angel had an angle, but he was so engaging that we enjoyed chatting with him and besides, we were in no rush. Angel quickly discerned that one of our goals on this trip was to visit the Isla Mujeres, a small island off the Cancun coast where a friend of ours has a vacation home. Cathy had enjoyed a wonderful visit there a few years back and wanted me to see it. Angel led us to the tourist desk in the store and made arrangements for transport to the ferry and for lunch while we were there. Now I am nobody’s fool. I was very wary, but employing all my powers of discernment, I decided that Angel was a man of his word and was doing legitimate promotions. He then told Cathy that there was a used bookstore with English language books around the corner and he would get a cab which would wait for us and then take us back to our hotel for eight dollars.

When the cab driver did not understand the directions, Angel jumped in the front seat and guided him to the bookstore. He was right- the bookstore was crammed with popular paperbacks in English.

On the way back to the Royal Mayan, Cathy and the taxi driver engaged in an animated conversation in Spanish. I picked up bits and pieces. He said the economy had hit the area hard. Its only industry is tourism, and fear of drug violence combined with the economy has kept Americans away. He pointed out that the drug violence was confined to the northern border areas where Americans’ hunger for drugs made it lucrative. I enjoyed listening to Cathy engaging him in his own tongue and she got a kick out of using her rusty Spanish. This will help her bone up before we go to Nicaragua with some of the parish mission team in late February to help discern the future of that outreach ministry.

It was a very satisfying afternoon, and reminded us of how much we enjoy people and their stories. But even more, these unexpected moments – becoming part of the press of humanity on the bus, Angel accosting us and helping us, and the conversation with the cab driver – are the surprising graces that emerge when we step out of our zones of comfort. We wake up, our eyes are opened, and we find sacred visitations – even by an “Angel.” No great epiphanies, nothing earth shattering – just moments of awareness. Stepping out of our comfort zone demands that we, like the bridesmaids in the Gospels, must light our lamps of awareness and openness and keep them lit.

 It is out of this holy of holies that our authentic lives are born – begotten not made.

 I believe that our spiritual journey involves the work – and I stress the work – of learning how to enter that holy of holies every day, every moment, and to find there the grace, the simplicity, the energy and the wisdom, that flows from that holy of holies. This is what it means to “pray unceasingly.”

This is what Jesus did. It is clear from the gospels that Jesus made no move, no change in his ministry, no new step out of his zone of comfort without going to a “lonely place” – a place alone to enter that holy of holies and find there the Holy Spirit he called, “Abba” – the child’s word for “Daddy.”

 St. Teresa of Avila, the sixteenth century Spanish Mystic described this journey to the inner holy of holies in her book, The InteriorCastle.  The story of the search for the Holy Grail, describes in external terms, this interior search for the center of our own interior castle – that holy of holies. I believe that the Harry Potter series resonates so well with us is that it picks up these eternal themes.

 There are many metaphors for this work of living out of our interior castle, our holy of holies, but the one thing in common is that it is work – and it is dangerous work because there is a construct common to us all called the ego – the “I.”

 The “I” is our sense of us – all that we use to define ourselves. The ego pushes to be made the center of our life, our decisions, our choices, our moods. The ego whispers in our ear that we are really the best – or the worst – and no one really understands. The ego can compel us to react defensively, rather than respond with care and compassion.

 I believe that our individual and corporate egos can cause us to mistrust or devalue the grace and wisdom of God available to us in the holy of holies within. This presents an impediment to an authentic life which is marked by joy, compassion, creativity, courage, and a wisdom which the Bible portrays as Divine and eternal.

 The ego is influenced profoundly by culture – the culture of our class, our society, the values and prejudices of our family, and the interaction of our hard wiring with the nuances of life around us.

 I believe that the power of the ego is fear, a deep and unrelenting anxiety – which we are hard wired to bind.

 I believe that to enter and live more and more out of that holy of holies – to take the journey to the center of the interior castle, is fraught with danger, pain and suffering. It can be a via dolorosa – and ultimately a crucifixion. Most do anything to avoid it. But those who find themselves undertaking this journey begin to discover that it leads to a pearl of great price, a treasure hidden in a field that is their very selves.

 However, even this can be disconcerting, because I believe that the light from the center can appear as darkness and dryness at first. What you once imagined to be a source of enjoyment or satisfaction or happiness – like more and more possessions, a grand home, the social whirl, bigger and bigger toys, acclaim, and success – these lose their appeal.

 What begins to emerge is a hunger for silence and solitude and beauty in its most essential forms -  less things and more simplicity, a sadness and grieving over the fragility and the blindness of oneself and others as well as the pain our own fragility and blindness has caused others.

 The power emanating from the holy of holies is the power of a self-giving love – a compassion – a joy in all things – a wonder – a sense of the numinosity of all life.

 I believe that developing a friendship with Jesus, as I have come to know him through scripture, the community of the Spirit, and through people who live out of their authentic center – helps me discern the voices and inclinations that come from the holy of holies within and those that come from my own ego –with its narcissism, reactivity and fear. But I believe that we cannot do this work of discernment alone. We need the help of a community of faithful people whose lives reflect the emotional and spiritual maturity that Jesus embodied. These are people who have struggled with what it is to live out of the interior castle and have a feel for the authentic life of the Spirit. They are courageous. They can speak the truth lovingly but firmly to power. They demonstrate courageous self-assessment. They embody a flexibility that tolerates discomfort and change, because they “rest in God’s changelessness.”

 I believe that the more we come to know Jesus  the more we are able to enter and respond out of what comes from the holy of holies within as opposed to the frantic demands of an outwardly turned ego haunted by the fear of what others will think or how they will react. This is because Jesus mirrors that eternal, sacred Abba who whispers in our own hearts. .

 I also believe that as we look within, we find our ego strengthening and changing, becoming firmer and more flexible. 

 I believe that more often that not, the doorway into our interior castle – our temple – is a wound or a struggle or a disappointment. The apostle Paul describes a thorn in the flesh that would not go away. But when he took it to prayer, he found the answer from within was, “My grace is sufficient – my power is made perfect in weakness.”

 But even here, I believe this journey needs to be sustained with discipline and practice – like practicing the piano.

I believe that the practice of daily prayer – Morning Prayer and Compline (bedtime prayer), and weekly Eucharist have brought me back to the holy of holies through the years, even when they have “felt” less than inspiring. Simple acts that engage holy mystery – like walking into my study in the darkness of the early morning and lighting one candle before a Bible and an icon are practices that are helpful. Taking three slow, conscious breaths and remembering to offer a meeting, a moment, a person, my fear, my calendar, a decision in prayer is also a practice I find can be subtly transforming.

 I believe that sometimes we mistake worship for entertainment. Worship can have entertainment in it and entertainment can turn out to convey the sacred. However, ultimately entertainment for its own sake is meant to distract while worship and the practice of spirituality leads us to the heart of life – pleasant and unpleasant, including parts of life and our own selves we would otherwise wish to avoid.

 Finally, I believe that the life of the Spirit is an adventure – a hero’s journey – as Joseph Campbell called it. This adventure means that nothing is outside the realm of the sacred.

 I believe that as we engage this adventure, our vision changes, because we are no longer blinded by fear, like Blind Bartimaeus (bar=son, timaeus=of fear) whom Jesus heals in the Gospels. He had spent his life huddled in a blanket by the sidelines. But Jesus calls him to throw off his cloak of fear and to step out into the center to be healed of his blindness. I believe that is what Jesus calls us to do as well.

 I believe he calls us to be audacious, to take risks, to exchange comfort for adventure, to love recklessly, to be joyful and to be tender-hearted.

 I also believe that with all its flaws, craziness, sinfulness, and messiness, the Church has been the context for my coming to life and stepping forth to journey where I could never have imagined.

 I believe the Church has taught me to live inside out – and for me that has worked. So I can live a life of gratitude – even with regrets – and not bitterness, haunted by all the “what ifs.”

Delegate Algie Howell addresses those gathered for the International Day of Peace

“My house  shall be called a house of prayer for all people.”  Isaiah 56.7

This past Wednesday, Christ and St. Luke’s hosted the United Nations International Day of Peace celebration. Mac Mckinney, a member of Christ and t. Luke’s, and his team organized the event which included talks, poetry, music and dance. Following the service, we gathered in Lloyd Hall for refreshments provided by a number of venues – the Norfolk Farm Market, Rajput, Pasha Mezze, Kin’s Wok, Colley Cantina, and theTri-Neighborhood Community Garden of Norfolk.

The presentations represented a number of traditions. Delegate Algie Howell spoke and so did Dr. Pamela Anne Bro of the Living Waters Sanctuary and Dr. Mohammed Karim from ODU. Elbert Watson, formerly of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre, offered dance meditations.

It was a long service lasting well over two hours and there was an interesting variety of dress, but how wonderful that Christ and St. Luke’s was chosen as the venue. The presentations were beautiful and heartfelt. Many who attended had never been inside the doors of the church before, and they moved by the beauty of the space.

As I was watching the proceedings, all decked out in my clerical collar and black suit, looking like the quintessential Anglican priest, I thought, “This is an important part of our vocation as a parish – to offer a beautiful and sacred space for the community. This is indeed a “house of prayer for all people.”

The next morning, as I was having breakfast with a university president, he fixed his eyes on me and said with great solemnity, “Christ and St. Luke’s is very important to the Hampton Roads Community.”

This was said in all seriousness and I heard in his comment a call to a sacred responsibility. Namely, we have a responsibility to be a place of good news, joy, health and generosity – not merely for ourselves, but for our brothers and sisters in the community around us. We have gifts beyond our comprehension. We can make a great impact in the lives of this community, if we dare to look at the need and come together around a shared, great vision. As I said in Sunday’s sermon, we can burn with the Divine fires of creativity, new vision, compassion and peace. It was not by chance that the organizers of the U.N. Day of Peace felt that Christ and St. Luke’s was the proper venue.

This morning I spent two hours at Cure over in Freemason enjoying coffee and conversation with Henry Conde, the President of the Ghent Neighborhood League. We talked about a number of issues we all share in Ghent– the homeless, the past history of mistrust, issues over the building and the demolition of the Guild House. Henry and I determined that we shared two core values. We are committed to seeking win/win solutions and we are convinced that lasting solutions come out of a carefully tended relationship of communication, transparency and trust. In that vein, I invited him to be a speaker for one of our Sunday morning adult classes this fall, and he accepted. Henry is a gracious and spiritual man with whom I look forward to working. I believe we are about to move into a new era in this community as the church for the community.

“Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now as we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure…”

I have been thinking a lot about things that are passing away this week. I cannot seem to pinpoint exactly what has led me to this reflection. I suspect it is spurred on by all the retrospectives on 9/11 and the changes that have taken place in our society over the past ten years. The Pilot Headline on Wednesday, “America the Poorer,” comes to mind. It saddened and disturbed me.

The President’s speech on jobs came with such fanfare, yet it left many with a sense of disappointment. Even before he spoke, the general cynicism left many believing they would not hear anything fresh or new or hopeful.

Then I began reading That Used to be Us- How America Fell Behind in the World it Invented and How We Can Come Back, by Thomas Friedman and Michael Mandelbaum, in which “they explain how the paralysis of our political system and the erosion of key American values have made it impossible for us to carry out the policies the country urgently needs.”

The “things that are passing away” also touches our church. Last Sunday’s services, focusing on 9/11, were some of the most powerful and meaningful I have ever experienced. Besides Patti’s stunning preaching, which brought the meaning of the day into such perfect focus, the extraordinarily powerful and appropriate music reminded me of what a treasure we have in Dr. Shaffer as we become cognizant that his time with us is quickly drawing to a close, and an era of music is passing away.

On Tuesday, I had a chat with a parishioner who shared with me how the economy was affecting his business. I could see in his face the worry and the pressures he was experiencing.

On Thursday, as the homeless were being fed, a couple from the neighborhood asked to see me. The wife was in tears. They spoke to me about the impact of the homeless in the neighborhood on their lives and the fear they had for their children. In recent years, the homeless had displayed some disturbing antisocial behavior. The couple, who were not parishioners of Christ and St. Luke’s, had lived near the church for a number of years and they pointed out that the homeless population had changed. They begged me to do something. I saw their real distress, so I gave them my contact information.  No easy answers here!

There is no doubt in my mind that we live in one of the great periods of history in which life as most of us have known it is passing away, and the new is not yet evident. In such periods, when the life-cycle of a church or a society is on the decline, there is a real danger of a loss of energy from a kind of corporate depression. The result is paralysis of the very imagination and will to dream and risk new possibilities. Comfort replaces the exciting adventure of setting forth to a new land, and we find ourselves cycling back over and over again to old, tired solutions.

The other danger is anxiety. Unabated anxiety seeks relief – now! Anxiety is impatient, but is often not recognized because it wears many faces – including outrage and paranoia. The danger of anxiety is that it can lead us to short-term strategies for relief, rather than the longer term transformational changes that are needed.

This is where our faith and spirituality come into play. unfortunately, in popular culture, spirituality and magical thinking can get confused, So intelligent people frequently do not factor in the wild card of Divine grace.

This week, such grace came in the form of breakfast with Connie Sage, a former parishioner, who was back in town for a book signing. We were talking about Julian of Norwich, the 14th/15th century spiritual writer, when we were propelled into another discussion with Conrad, a friend of Connie’s who had come over to our table. We found ourselves talking about the very issues that Thomas Friedman covers in his book, but the balanced wisdom and kindliness of Conrad transported us into one of those enlivening conversations that not only stimulates your imagination, it leaves you with new vision, energy and joy.

When he left, Connie and I went back to our discussion of Julian of Norwich, but now the two conversations were blended in my mind.

Julian lived in another era when life as they knew it was passing away. The Hundred Years War had been going on for several lifetimes. The Black Death, travelling from China, had wiped out almost sixty percent of Europe. A period of climatic warming had come to an end. The new ice age caused food shortages, rampant hunger and a resulting lowered immunity among the population.

Perhaps in a sort of delirium caused by what some believe to be the plague, Julian had a series of “showings” or direct experiences of God. The rest of her life was spent reflecting on and writing about these Divine Showings

The result was a theology that was deeply optimistic and joyful. Here are some highlights:

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
“Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you. Everything passes away except God.”
“The greatest honor we can give to Almighty God is to live gladly, because of the kowledge of his love.”

Julian lays out a vision of what endures: a Divine love that allows us to live gladly even when we are propelled into new and unknown territory; an optimism that energizes us to engage in respectful and “courteous” conversations across seas of differences, because our equal status as the beloved does in fact create common ground. This optimism is derived from faith in a God who promises that “all shall be well,” not “all shall be easy or without cost.”

In the midst of all that was passing away, there was Connie and Conrad; there was the couple from the neighborhood who took time to share their fears and open my eyes to their expeience, whether or not I agreed with them; there was that chance conversation with a worried parishioner whom I care about. This was not all. There were the communion visits with those who were facing pain and illness.

In the final analysis, these are the things that endure. I had already forgotten some until I came to Starbucks to write this blog. In the writing and the reflecting and the praying, they came back to me and transformed my vision.

These are the things that endure, and in the midst of so much passing away, we must cling to them as treasures from the Author who sends them as gift. And in the clinging, maybe, just maybe, we will fins the imagination, the energy and the will to discover new and creative solutions to the challenges that face us in a world that is passing away.