Going Paperless, Chapter 1

This calendar year (because that's how the Chapel of the Good Shepherd Operates) I have been asked to co-coordinated the Sunday evening community eucharist (about which I blogged a few months ago) with Colin Chapman. One of the things we're trying to do is get attendance up. We're seeking to make it an authentic, intentional worship experience. One of the ways we're trying to do that is with paperless music. In January I went to Music that Makes Community and learned some good pieces, got a confidence boost, got some resources, and made some good networking connections. So from that I've planned music from last Sunday through Easter. Lots of continuity with pieces so that people can get really comfortable with them.

The exception to that, of course, is that very, very soon we're in Lent, so all the music will change for that season. However, we'll get two weeks of these songs (or so I thought) before we moved on to more dreary songs. Not dreary. Just more contemplative and slower, at least off the top of my head I think they'll be slower. I chose the songs for now the same way I usually choose music: what do the words say and how is that related to what we're doing? If I had to use one word to describe how Sunday night went, it would definitely be #fail.

It wasn't really a failure, it was just new. It will get better at it as we go, and even as the service progressed it got better. As Taylor Burton-Edwards (whose wife is a priest) pointed out, I am trying to get a very scripted people to go off-script. Paperless music is new to them, and the musical selections weren't the best they could've been, and I'm making changes as a result. And most of the music was completely new to the people, too. This week I'm thinking about moving my position to somewhere else and hoping to have some ringers in the congregation who've practiced the music and can bolster confidence of the assembly as they sing.

The opening last week was "Arise, Shine," which is in Music by Heart. One of the perks of having evening worship is that songs with light are always applicable, regardless of season. I'm trying to avoid the Phos Hilaron since it's the invitatory at the evening office. That song will continue. One of the things that we're doing is restoring a song of praise separate and distinct from an opening song. This week, since it's the season after Epiphany we attempted a Gloria. This was Rick Fabian's paperless Gloria with congregational refrain and cantored verses. I practiced it all week with the keyboard because I kept getting some intervals off. We didn't make it to the verses because we didn't get comfortable enough with the refrain. Now I know it at least. Next time we're doing the "Peruvian Gloria " that Patrick Evans lead at MMC and can be found in The Faith We Sing and probably other collections. It's much simpler.

For the gospel acclamation we sang the Caribbean Hallelujah that we've used all school year and the people are familiar with. I'll sing it twice through next time versus just the one. That needs to be worked out and communicated with the presider so that they know when they'll be on, and I'll know when I need to stop. That'll clearly change with Lent. For the offertory song, which is also a transition from the choir to the altar we sang "Gather Children, Gather 'Round" which I somewhat altered at the end as that I couldn't entirely remember how I learned it, but I made it work. Then we did the best two of the night: Sanctus and song during communion.

For the Sanctus we did Mark Miller's, also found in The Faith We Sing. I don't have a copy of that, but I remember when we'd do "Singy Communion" at the Wesley. Mark's setting works well to break into phrases to do an echo. During communion we sang "Alleluia, Alleluia, Give Thanks to the Risen Lord," which went well. The people, in large part, knew it. We repeated it a good number of times, and I think we were starting to get some harmony. We sent the altar party out with "God Bless Every Step," and it went well, despite being a newish piece. I think one of the things that helped as we were around the altar was that we were close together, so we could hear each other even if we weren't singing lustily and with good courage.

And that was Chapter 1 in this adventure of turning a service into a service of paperless music. Keep checking in for updates, because I think I'm going to keep blogging them, both for my reflections and in the hope that people can offer suggestions and the hope that people can learn from my mistakes!

#episcopalianbecause Part 2

I thought I'd take a minute to share all the tweets that I've written myself or re-tweeted from others with the #episcopalianbecause hash tag:

I'm an #episcopalian because...

1. question marks are even more welcome than exclamation points.
2. most of our hymns have a verse in praise to the Trinity, which we almost always sing.
3. we pray for those whose faith is known to God alone, not by naming people and things we don't like about them.
4. The Episcopal Church opposes the Death Penalty.
5. we know tectonic plates are to blame for the Eathquake in Haiti, not Voo Doo.
6. if I get tired of anglo-catholic worship in the Twin Cities, I can go to a service in Hmong or other languages .
7. my [future] daughters [will] see women in leadership roles in the church.
8. we don't pretend to believe the same things, but we gather and pray together the same way.
9. from St. Mary the Virgin Times Square to St. Gregory of Nyssa San Francisco, there's a liturgical style for you.
10. Common Prayer is the best way we have to draw the largest number of people possible close to Jesus.
11. we have good news to share and are willing to change certain aspects so that we can get that message out.
12. regular reception of the Eucharist changed me: because it's a God thing not a me thing.
13. even when I don't feel like praying the Daily Office it shapes me and surrounds my day with prayer.
14. we treasure the historic roles of bishop, presbyter, and deacon and value ordination and its preparation.
15. I'd rather revel in the mystery than argue facts.
16. the worship of the church has shaped and formed my life, both from its consistency and its theology.
17. I'm part of a "we" church versus an "I" church. We believe. We celebrate seasons.

Are you an Episcopalian? If so, why?

#episcopalianbecause

Many of you who read this and many won't will recognize the title of my blog. On twitter, a way to aggregate information is to put a # sign in front of it, called a hash tag. The Episcopal Church launched #episcopalianbeacuse a few months ago to tell the story of TEC, it's people and mission. They saw many topics and discussions and wanted to engage the Episcopal audience in an open-ended question with good results. This is ground up advertising: the people on twitter who are Episcopalian tweet that they are and why. All their followers get the message, and people who are searching for the hash tag can share the response if it resonates with their experience. And followers will see enough on their feed to consider going to an Episcopal Church. Rather than spending millions of dollars on ad campaigns, this is a way for people to share their stories.

Some have asked (and this isn't meant as a passive-aggressive rant directed at them; I'm just expounding on some of my thoughts, not throwing stones) why not #Christianbecause. A United Methodist mentor put it very succinctly when he said, "Because saying we are Christians doesn't identify how or with whom we live this out." I think I latched on to this so much because it's so right in my mind. Christian means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. I've been through three denominations. I'm very much a "company person." If I'm in a church I want to know why I'm in said church, what it believes collectively, what its polity is (how things should run), who all is there, what kinds of personal or mid-range group deviations there are (what kind of freedom exists within form, different interpretations of all our texts, Bible, BCP, Hymnal).

How We Live This Out. Saying that I'm a Christian doesn't tell people a lot about how I live my faith. It could immediately make them think of the Catholic diocese that contributed so much money to fighting LGBT marriage. They might think of "Jesus is My Friend." It could be a group whose congregational statement of beliefs starts with the importance of the innerancy of the Bible or a group whose Creed starts with "We believe in one God." There could be no mention of baptism or communion, or pages about them. The earthquake could've been the result of a pact with the devil or an unfortunate event that calls us to show love to our sisters and brothers without making any kind of judgmental statement.

Saying I'm an Episcopalian says that nine times out of ten the service will come from the Book of Common Prayer, wherever I am in the world, that there will be readings from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the Epistles, and one of the Gospels. Even if the service isn't straight out of the Book of Common Prayer, we will gather together, hear the Word of God proclaimed, pray for the Church and for the World, exchange peace with one another, share in the Body and Blood of Christ, and be sent into the world to do the work Christ has given us to do. It says that we look at the Bible and read it with a sense of tradition and reason applied to it. It says that we aren't afraid to unpack all the metaphors in the text which actually make it richer, rather than detracting from it. It says that we believe that in baptism we are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ's own forever. (BCP 308).

Identifying as Episcopalian gives me the freedom of not having to scramble for an answer to the question, "What do you believe about...?" Between the Catechism and the texts of our prayers that's answered. (What we pray, we believe). It says that I've promised to continue in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers; to persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever I fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord; to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ; to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving my neighbor as myself; to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.

With Whom We Live This Out. As Derek Webb points out on The House Show, "If you divorce the people of God, the local community, from the gospel, then it ceases to be the gospel. There is no other context for your faith as a Christian than to be in community with other people." By necessity we live our Christian lives in community. Saying I'm a Christian could mean that I go to a church that's mostly middle-class white people or of mostly African Americans or mostly LGBT people. Saying that one's non-denominational Christian church is "diverse" but only having white men as clergy and in any other leadership suggests otherwise without further explanation about what kind of diversity you embody.

Saying I'm an Episcopalian says that there are people who dance around the altar and people who do figure-eights so that the deacon and "sub-deacon" are on the correct sides of the presider as (usually) he moves around. That statement says that we have women, people of color, and people different sexual orientations in all four orders of ministry: laity, bishops, priests, and deacons. When I personally say "I'm an Episcopalian" it says that I live my Christian faith with people who know grace and show grace, striving to be in love and charity with all people. It says that we have congregations that meet outside in the Castro in San Francisco on Sunday evenings, in buildings enormous and historic like Washington National Cathedral all throughout the week, and that we have congregations that are made up entirely of prisoners that meet on Sunday mornings with a supply priest presiding for them.

I am a Christian. I worship a vulnerable child, a non-violent teacher, a crucified troublemaker from an occupied land. I worship the One who sent Jesus to us to live and die among us and reconcile us to God the Creator of us all. I worship the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life. Saying I'm a Christian and stopping there might imply those things (at least nominally). Saying I'm an Episcopalian says that the three parts of the trinity will be named many times through our prayers (almost all of them) and during our hymns. To me, saying I'm a Christian because is too general a statement. Saying I'm an Episcopalian says "I am a Christian whose tribe believes x, y, and z with lots of different kinds of people. And we welcome you.

One Week Down

Good morning blogland. I am blogging so as to not read for class. I'm one week in to my second semester as a seminarian, and I'm glad that it's done. A senior and I were talking briefly yesterday, and he said that the first week back is always really hard, and I agree. Trying to figure out a new routine, trying to get everything in to the routine, etc. But back I am with some changes to my week-to-week activity. Taking on less class (Thanks be to God), but still working ten hours a week. But I'm also now a lot more involved in chapel life, beyond regular attendance at Morning Prayer and Eucharist.

Now I'm co-planning the Sunday night community Eucharist, which is using all paperless music. This week I'll be sending an e-mail recruiting people to lead the music, and hopefully we'll get a nice little community of singers who lead, eat, and sing together that in time starts writing music which we then workshop together at our eating times. That's what I'm envisioning and hoping for...and hoping that I'm not really the only one leading music the rest of the semester, but if that happens God will be praised and I'll have a good time doing it.

I'm also now a sacristan, which is very neat. I started yesterday and have already learned a lot about the chapel that I didn't know before. I'm really looking forward to serving in that role the next two years. My day is Friday which is funny because I have to work my homework routine around it, but it works. It makes sure that I get up in the morning, and adds my evensong attendance to at least once a week.

Additionally, I'm getting myself a cupcake today. That is my reward for having exercised every day this week. 35-40 minutes on the elliptical three days and weight machines on a circuit the other two. Yesterday was one of them and my muscles feel it and it's the best kind of sore. Not throbbing pain, but good. And the stuff is getting easier and it feels good. In addition to the exercise I've cut back on my carb intake, and only had fruit for dessert in the refectory all week. Thus, I'm getting a cupcake today as my reward before I go sing.

Today is a Sacred Harp day. Tomorrow I don't know where I'm going to church. I'm leading songs at Eucharist tomorrow night and really need to do a decent amount of practince on one of them today, which I'll make work. I ned to get some reading done, which I'll make happen, too. We sang a Sacred Harp song last night as the Office Hymn at evensong, which almost made up for the rest of the office.

Dinner with the bishop and others from Alabama and Florida. Was very good. Very relaxed. Informal. Questions about field ed and CPE. Good wine. Good conversation.

Time for homework. It's snowing here.

A New About Me

Both on my Blogspot, and on Facebook, I'm changing my bio/about me. I'm almost finished with This Far by Grace: A Bishop's Journey Through Questions About Homosexuality by the Rt. Rev. J. Neil Alexander. I started it last night and have ten or so pages to go, which I'll finish this afternoon (after I finish my children's sermon for tonight). However, last night I read part of a paragraph that I completely identified with, so I'm owning it (and giving credit). Here's the text for those of you who read neither on my blogspot nor on my Facebook.

I used to believe that the purpose of being a Christian was to learn to live a good and righteous life. I now believe that I am good and righteous, not of my own doing, but as a gift of grace by faith in Jesus Christ. I used to believe that if I said my prayers and lived an obedient life, when I died I would inherit eternal life. Now I believe that eternal life begins at the font and goes on forever. My experience of God has shifted from fear to love, from conditional to unconditional, from judgment to mercy. I used to believe that being a Christian was about me. That's idolatry. I've discovered, thanks to the witness of the Episcopal Church, that being a Christian is about God. That's grace.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Last night the President said the following in the State of the Union (in case you missed it)

"This year, I will work with Congress and our military to finally repeal the law that denies gay Americans the right to serve the country they love because of who they are. It's the right thing to do."

Don't ask, don't tell policies are not limited to the military, and they are more about the idea of coming out, which is far more than saying, "I'm gay!" to your friends and everyone you meet on the street. While there is certainly an aspect of that (or at least having that freedom to do, should you feel compelled), it's really about being a whole person to whole people all around you. DADT policies inhibit that room, certainly. There are those who say "You shouldn't let one aspect of your personality define you, and that's what coming out does." I disagree with that.

Our identities are multifaceted, but certainly as sexual people, our sexuality is a part of that. As loving people, our relationships are very much parts of our identity. By not being able to come out to one's peers -- in any group, not just the military -- one has to constantly walk on egg shells about what they do in their spare time, which establishments they frequent, what movies they see, and which artists they listen to. Some of that is certainly stereo-types, but in a DADT construct, if one appears to be gay, s/he may be asked (even in violation of the policy).

If a queerperson finds him/herself in a relationship with someone of the same sex, DADT precludes their ever mentioning that. If someone is in basic or deployed and gets a letter from his boyfriend or from her partner of however many years, those two people have to say it's from a friend. During time back from deployment, those people have to say they're going to spend time with a friend. Meanwhile, their heterosexual counterparts can talk about the stress that distance is putting on their relationships and be honest about them as romantic relationships, can get excited about having gotten a letter from their wife that talks about ______.

Coming out isn't about saying, "Look at me, this is my identity, and it's the only thing about me!" It's about being fully honest and giving full disclosure. It's about a gay man being able to say "I'm getting to see my boyfriend after six months away," versus being shamed into hiding the truth, so telling a half-truth and misleading others by his silence. Or if not being shamed, being exactly who he is with enough between the lines to see if they want to, but sometimes working himself into a frenzy for fear that others will find out and ask -- and he won't be comfortable telling an outright lie. DADT limits people who want to be supportive, too. People who can read between the lines might want to say, "I know someone else who's done the coming out thing. You're safe with me," but would violate DADT and could border on sexual harassment.

And don't ask, don't tell policies aren't just existent in the military (although I know innumerable LGTB people who are serving, know veterans who talk of their experience as heterosexuals knowing that there was a gay bar right of post at almost off of their assignments, know people serving now who either have an atmosphere where their gay colleagues can be open or can read between the lines and want to be supportive). They exist in schools, particularly in systems that have discriminatory hiring/work practices. There are gay teachers who can't say anything to anyone (again, not an announcement to students, but bitching about relationships in faculty lounges during lunch) for fear of losing their jobs. There are people in discernment to be clergy in many Christian denominations where being gay is okay until you become "self-avowed," or it's okay for you to live your life, but it can't be talked about.

Do you fall into any of these categories? Friend or colleague of a closeted queer person in a system with a don't ask, don't tell reality? Person living in don't ask don't tell? If you won't be directly adversely affected by it (or if you will and are comfortable with that), what are you doing to change the system? Calling bishops, standing committees, school boards and congress people? Or watching your friends hide parts of their lives that are important to them while you take what's afforded to you as a heterosexual for granted?

I ask your prayers this evening...

For the soul of Lucy Reaves, and her family.

Almighty God, we remember before you today your faithful servant Lucy; and we pray that, having opened to her the gates of larger life, you will receive her more and more into your joyful service, that, with all who have faithfully served you in the past, she may share in the eternal victory of Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Almighty God, Mother of mercies and giver of comfort: Deal graciously, we pray, with all who mourn; that, casting all their care on you, they may know the consolation of your love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

And for those who will undoubtedly ask,

Q. Why do we pray for the dead?
A. We pray for them, because we still hold them in our love, and because we trust that in God's presence those who have chosen to serve him will grow in his love, until they see him as he is.