Lying in Ordination Vows

Over the last few weeks (a month or so) I've participated in conversations about the diaconate. Many of my seminary classmates have said that at their ordinations to the diaconate they would have to lie in their ordination vows. A professor said that many people have to. One said his bishop said he could cross his fingers. Where would people be lying in their ordination vows? And why? The vow in question is the first question of The Examination (BCP 543), "My brother, do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to the life and work of a deacon?"

As these conversations have been happening, others have been as well, and a big event has, too. On December 21 I knelt before my bishop and he prayed, "Therefore, Father, through Jesus Christ your Son, give your Holy Spirit to Joseph; fill him with grace and power, and make him a transitional deacon in your Church." I was ordained as a transitional deacon, it's in the prayer.

Actually it's not. The constant references to my being a transitional deacon or to the transitional diaconate have annoyed me the last few weeks. I don't want to get into the idea of cumulative orders where they stack up like nesting dolls. or talk about direct ordination to then presbyterate. I'm not an advocate of that. I am, however, an advocate of deacons, their work, their lives, and their ministries.

My classmates have said that they will have to lie in their ordination vows, but I think that presents a problem. Rather, I should say I did not have to lie in my ordination vows. I do believe that right now I am truly called by God and the Church to the life and work as a deacon. Saying that I'm a transitional deacon betrays the importance of that life and work. While some people advocate ordaining people directly to the presbyterate, one of the reasons I pursued orders in The Episcopal Church was to serve time as an ordained deacon, called to a  special ministry of servanthood under my bishop modeling for all the baptized that servant ministry to which we are all called.

My understanding of my call to the priesthood is that the Church forms its priests by serving as ordained deacons first. I don't believe that I am called to be an ordained deacon for life, but I am a deacon right now. I am not a "transitional" deacon anymore than Bishops Harris, Robinson, Parsley, Gray-Reeves, or Curry were transitional presbyters. While some say that those called to the priesthood should be ordained right to that order, I think that instead we might discern as individuals and in community when people are called to be priests.

Rather than setting the date of an ordination to the priesthood six-twelve months to the day from the diaconal ordination, why not take the process of priestly ordination just as seriously as we do postulancy, and candidacy, and diaconal ordination? While people seem to hem and haw and build up loads of anxiety before their first meeting with the commission on ministry or for getting candidacy, it seems like skating from that point on, and no one seems to question if they will be ordained to the priesthood in an exact timeline per their diocese.

Apparently that I'm even saying these things could hold my process up in some dioceses, too! When discussing a GOE answer from this past week I told classmates of my intentional inclusion of a deacon in a liturgy and cited the diaconal ordinal. They were from the same diocese and almost both immediately said that in their diocese my advocacy for the ministry of the deacon would lead to questions among the committee if I might not be called to the vocational diaconate.

Throughout my seminary career I have been such an advocate, and I think it has to do with my formation about ordained ministry happening a)with vocational deacons around and b)such a strong teaching on the tradition of the church that I could never have thought about being ordained directly to the presbyterate - although one of my closest friends and mentors (in the tradition from which I came) was pursuing just such a process. During that time, however, she was on trial and discerned herself and in community when she would be ordained an elder.

Scott Gunn wrote tonight about Broken Things in the Church. I think one of the things broken in The Episcopal Church is not the diaconate, but our treatment of the diaconate. As Episcopalians we say that we firmly believe in the three-fold ordering of ministry. Our understanding of the ordering of ministry is important to us in ecumenical dialogue, but I think oftentimes we act like there are really only two orders of ministry: priests and bishops.

In a sermon at General Convention 2009 Bishop Barbara Harris implored the church to stop treating LGBT people called to ordained ministry as though they were "half-ass baptized." If we continue to treat vocational deacons as though they're half-ass ordained (limiting their use of the title "The Rev", disallowing them from wearing collars, making them wear grey clergy shirts to tell them apart, saying that "the clergy" follow "the deacons" in procession, etc.), while encouraging deacons pursuing the priesthood to act like priests in waiting, we devalue the ministry of all deacons.

Rather than celebrating our three-fold ordering of ministry we say that only people who want to be priests and people who can ordained are ordained. Those other people who've had the prayer prayed over them are just fixtures, regardless of the good work they do in prisons, with seafarers, in schools, and all the other places deacons go to serve. I love telling people in the subway that deacons taught me to knit and explaining the ministry of the deacon to random New Yorkers who just wanted a picture of me knitting.

I'm called to that ministry at this point in my life. Maybe it's easier for me to embrace this because I don't have an ordination date yet, and I don't know what the timeline is. There are a lot of variables that may need to be worked out. Maybe it's a good thing for me, though. I'm not a priest-in-waiting because I don't know when I'm waiting for! I am a deacon called "to make Christ and his redemptive love known, by [my] word and example, to those among whom [I] live, and work, and worship, ... [and] to interpret to the Church the needs, concerns, and hopes of the world." (BCP 543).

The Prayer Book knows nothing of transitional deacons, only deacons called to special ministries of service under their bishops, whether they are pursuing the presbyterate or not.

Ritualism

I had a wonderful Saturday night, which may likely be a blog entry later today, but we'll see.  I do want to write about my weekend, but Saturday night was good.  I went to a friend's birthday party and met lots of new people and even some new friends.  One of whom grew up Southern Baptist, as did I.  As we talked about worship he talked about how Episcopal services are more ritualistic than Baptist services.

I wanted to shout, "YES!  Yes yes yes!  You get it, why don't we?!"  By that I mean  he used the right term to describe some of the ways we embody the liturgies that we celebrate together.  Regardless of if there's smoke and bells or cassocks and surplices three Sundays a month for Morning Prayer, we are more ritualistic than Southern Baptists.  And those places with smoke?  More ritualistic than those places that don't have those things.  Either way, we have a ritual that we embody in a variety of different ways.

What so many of our people (lay and ordained) seem to not realize(?  know?  have been taught in seminary or forgot?) is that the degrees of ritualism are about smoke and bells or absence thereof.  Hearing those things described as "high" or "low" church irk me.  One's positions on the church aren't inherently communicated in how one worships.  Places that still insist on using the 1928 Prayer Book or 1662 or something on their own are low church because the church has a whole has adopted something else.  They might have billowing smoke, but they're not worshipping in common with the rest of the Church.

Churchmanship (I wish that weren't a gendered term) has to do with the episcopacy and the hierarch of the church.  While I was in Mexico I saw a delightful demonstration of high churchmanship with very, very little ritualism attached.  The priest with whom we worked was committed to the Church.  She has disagreements on social/theological issues with the Presiding Bishop and the bishop who ordained her, but she's committed to being a part of the church.  Our eucharists were QUITE different than anything we have in the Chapel of the Good Shepherd, but I think she was relatively high church.

I personally identify as quite high church, which I attribute to my having been raised in such a low church tradition where each congregation does what it will.  I place a strong emphasis not just on local communities of faith, but on communities of faith being in community with one another.  I think that the Church is Christ's bride, not that individuals are Christ's brides.  That's why I like the Derek Webb song "The Church" (the last line of the refrain is "If you love Me you will love the Church").  And while identifying as a high churchman, I think I am far from being a big ritualist.

But at the same time there are places whose ritualism I can enjoy and worship and then other places where I want to scream about what's going on.  I might not like all of the theological implications of the customary at Trinity Church, but there's definitely "full, conscious, and active participation by the people there."  We do things in the Chapel that drive me crazy because I think we're clinging to something (all the time and not occasionally) that isn't where life is anymore (e.g. Evensong with unrehearsed Anglican chant for the Psalter four nights a week).

I think what I most look at in Eucharistic celebration is how the presider embodies the prayer.  I don't care if they have magic hands crossing things all the time - unless they seem more focused on the magic hands and getting their movements "right" than on the prayer.  I think there's certainly a way to do both well (and it might involve some memorization and muscle memory), but when not done well I certainly understand why less ritualistic traditions are critical of our "dry, moribund liturgy."  That doesn't mean the sacrament is invalid or that the prayer isn't said.  But I understand wanting to hear a prayer being prayed and not read as though it's a story.  And I surely don't want a presider to get to "gave thanks to you" and have body language that says, "Oh, yeah, I have to point up right now" and then quickly throw a hand up.

There are lots of degrees of ritualism and churchmanship in The Episcopal Church.  Sometimes the two go hand-in-hand, and sometimes they aren't related to one another at all.  I think that it would be helpful if we consciously work on altering our language (which students at General are doing) so that we don't use the two interchangeably.

Giddy, Part 2

Yesterday was the makings of Giddy, Part 3, but it's not ready yet.  Giddy happened right when I was getting some very exciting e-mails about possibilities, but not wanting to talk about them until they were panning out more.  Well, one of them has!  The other almost has, but I'll know about it in a week or so.  And I'll do my best to post as soona s I know.  And it should involve me blogging a lot, too.

So, amazing and fun news number one: I work in the OFfice of the Presiding Bishop at 815 now.  I start on 2 February.  It's a great opportunity that should be a great experience both in learning and in for the rest of my life.  I'm thankful to have been given the opportunity and glad that I was recommended for the position.  I look forward to starting and getting some good work done!

Received into the church via..SKYPE! (My Diocese!)

The Episcopal Church posted this on Facebook, and on top of other things happening, I'm just giddy. This is my diocese looking at ways to use technology in a forward-thinking way that is still personal. There's a screen so that people can see one another and be community, not to have something to stare at. Rather than increasing people's spending and carbon footprings by having them come home yearly for a 45 minute meeting with the commission, we also do our seminarian check-ins via Skype. Here's an excerpt from the article:

I watched as Jaime Camazind, another parishioner whose daughter was being confirmed, took Adeline and cared for her during the service. I celebrated our family. Around the same time, Aaron Kuster made his way to the base chapel in Qatar. There, he found an Episcopal Prayer Book and waited. At the dismissal, I said, “let us go in peace to Battin Hall (our parish hall).

Read it all:

Received into the church via..SKYPE! Episcopal Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast

Small #Episcopal Community

I don't usually put hash tags in my blog titles.  I know that it'll catch some more hits if I do, maybe, but that's not the point of titling blogs for me.  But I think it's appropriate today since it's what someone said.  But before they said that, I sat on my floor and cackled.  


Mid-afternoon yesterday I got a tweet from a New Yorker whom I've met once before.  We ran into each other at church last fall but knew who the other was...by our Twitter handles.  This is someone that I've followed for probably going on two years.  I have no idea how it started, but my guess is one of us did a search for Episcopal something or other.  So earlier in the day he tweets me asking about the Advent Lessons and Songs at the Seminary tonight.  I think he came last year or meant to.


Well, just before the service starts, I see that he's tweeted, "As @erinwarde would say, ADVENT HYMN SING Y'ALL!" Even pasting it I'm starting to laugh.  You see, the person who was tweeting (it's @_Barajas), to my knowledge, has never met @ErinWarde...who went to college with me and was one of my dearest friends through it and is still today.  And a statement that ends in an all caps "y'all" is right up her alley.  I retweeted it with "best tweet ever."


So yes, it's a small community.  After the service tonight I talked to Christopher for a few minutes, just briefly, about someone in New York City coming to something at my seminary while quoting someone I went to college with.  That is networking and building relationships.  Some people say that that makes Twitter superior to Facebook, but I disagree.  There are ways to meet new people and build relationships on both networks, though in different ways.  One requires far more engagement for it to work, but it's easy to do that kind of engagement on either if you don't feel like a creeper chatting to someone you don't really know (yet), but are waiting to meet you.


Who might you be waiting to meet this Advent?

Collect for World AIDS Day

From the National Episcopal AIDS Coalition:

Loving God, You provide comfort and hope to those who suffer. Be present with all HIV

positive persons and their families in this and every land, that they may be

strengthened in their search for health, wholeness and abundant living, through Christ

our Companion. Amen.

"Sundries"

Sorry that I've been posting a lot from Scott A. Gunn, the Blogger-in-Residence Rector at St. Google's, or rather Christ Church, Lincoln, RI, but he's got some good stuff on his page pretty frequently. These are my favorites from a recent post of his.

The Diocese of Rhode Island's Altar Guild has a blog. Yes. Not only do they have a blog, they update regularly and have been so doing for quite a while. Make sure you check out Rhode Island Altars. Not only do they blog regularly, have been doing it for a while, they also LABEL stuff. Check out the section on altar lace.

Fr. Scott points us to a Newsweek article from 1995 about why the internet will fail. Glad that's out there for reading 15 years later as I sit on the interwebs in my philosophy class having my mind stretched in a most delightful way. Blogging right now is a break from it to process some in the back of my head.

The final thing I'll share from Fr. Scott (who is a very funny guy, and good to go to emergent worship with at General Convention, but only if he wears clericools) is a video about what to expect if we try something new. About trying new things he says, "[T]he church seems unable to grasp a simple concept: sometimes we should try things just to see if they work. It’s really that simple."

Glasspool Gets Consents

If you haven't heard the news, the Rev. Cn. Mary Glasspool, suffragan bishop-elect of Los Angeles, has received the required consents from bishops and standing committees and will thus be ordained in May. Fr. Scott has a great response to the people who have issued negative statements to this effect. Here's a snippet:

If one is going to object to the ordination of GLBT persons, the basis must be on grounds other than a (fictitious) fixed tradition. Any casual reading of church history reveals a slow-moving stream in which the waters of tradition are constantly refreshed. The essentials of the faith that we teach (e.g. Christ’s resurrection or the power of the Holy Spirit) ought not to change, but the church has constantly and slowly revised its teaching on any number of second-order matters. Surely the AAC could admit this, as they seem to on the issue of divorce.

Read it all

The Story of How I Became a Postulant

I started this entry on 5 November 2008 and left it as a draft for some reason. I guess I just forgot that I'd started it and forgot to finish it. Now I'll post it, though, and I hope y'all are as amused as I am recollecting the ending.

See, wha'ha'happe was this one time I had drove to Pensacola. I had drove after leading a Bible study and then I had got to my aunt's house. She had tried to stay up to wait for me but she couldn't. But my cousin Matthew was up because he had just got home. We had talked for a few minutes and then I had went to bed. I had set my alarm for 8:00, but I wasn't sure that I'd even be able to sleep that long. I woke up at 8:00.

When I had got up all my family had gone but my cousin Seth. He stay with my aunt and uncle but he ain't their kid. He go to school in Pensacola. When I had finished showering and getting ready we had watched Patch Adams together while we had talked about school. We had had to leave at the same time. He had went to classes and I had to go to the bishop's office for my meeting about being a postulant. My directions wasn't too good, so I had got off the interstate and went the wrong direction. It didn't feel right, though, so I had called the office and talked to my friend Sally. She work there and we had went to Cursillo together. I had just passed Sammy's, and she had gave me good directions.

Sorry, I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired.

When I got to the diocesan office I had a seat and then Mary Poss took me to the kitchen where I had a banana and a Diet Coke (Diet Coke, Diet Coke). I waited until I was called in. The bishop was so nice. He asked if my tie was okay. He told me to breathe. Then he told me to go in and have a seat. I did. I met the members of the Commission on Ministry. The bishop started by complimenting my tie and asking me, if he could without being to outrageous, show the commission my socks. They were tan with brown vertical stripes and red horizontal stripes. Where they intersected they made orange squares. They're a pair of my fun socks. I have six now.

So we went through the forty-five minute interview. I was asked about the priesthood. I talked about the Baptismal Covenant as a life of self-marginalization, and that the ordained are called to lead and invite the laity in the self-marginalization to which they've committed. Canon Dunnam asked if people who wear yellow bow ties marginalize themselves from society. I replied that people who wear yellow bow ties might be marginalized from society because they aren't the dominant trend, but that those who have been called to lead in self-marginalization, at least in The Episcopal Church, tend to wear white collars. He replied with, "Touché," and laughed. Two lay people clapped and everyone else at least laughed.

Cn. Dunnam also asked where I'd acquired my proficiency with language. I started by telling him that I'd answered that question in that building before. (Bishop Duncan asked me that when I went to talk to him in February.) I told him that Mom was an English teacher and that Romey had been particular about our speech and interviewing skills. Then he asked how my peers reacted, if at all. I told him for the most part that they don't. My group of friends all have our special areas and we use our terms and teach each other. I told the Commission about nerd hands for when someone does something ridiculously nerdy, and they laughed. I talked about Erin being an English major and Tate saying "amenesis." Then I was done talking to them.

I went to Aunt Terrie's to get lunch and chatted online briefly. I went back to the diocesan office for talks we were going to have about seminary life. Before going in I collected my thoughts since I was a little early. Four clergy people who've graduated from seminary in the last three years. We had conversations for three hours. It wasn't too bad, actually. A number of people called a few times to see if I had news. My phone was on silent. The conversations consisted of the four clergy people and all the people who'd been interviewed about postulancy, so we all got to meet one another, too. The talks were very good. They were informal and not stressful.

Then came the time for announcements. This is where the entry is picking up over a year later. We all waited in the diocesan office's lobby as we were called in one at a time. I got my announcement, and as we know by now, I became a postulant. However, there's more to that story. After the announcement, as I'm bubbling with excitement (and completely not feeling like it's election day), I went to get in my car. I felt my suit pockets, and what do you know, but my keys weren't in them!

I went around to the passenger's side and low and behold, my keys were in the ignition. I was still driving the Grand Prix at the time, and I had a very set routine for getting out of my car and locking the door. It started with taking the keys out of the ignition as I turned my lights off after I'd put the car in park, then opening the door. I had sat to collect my thoughts, and thus I had thrown off my routine. Door got locked, keys never made it out of the ignition. I was mortified. I told people inside what was going on, I think only the bishop and Mary were left at that point, and it worked out.

The bishop called AAA to open my car, which they did. However, we had to wait for the locksmith to get there. Bishop Duncan and I had pimento cheese sandwiches and Diet Cokes on Sally's desk while we waited for the locksmith to get there. I was so embarrassed. Freshly made postulant locks his keys in his car, and then the bishop has to wait with him before he can leave. Great beginning, you know? The locksmith came and opened the passenger door. We unlocked all the doors from it and Bishop Duncan held it open until I was safely in the driver's seat with the car started. Then I drove back to Troy, excited about being a postulant and about the election that was happening.

Identity

As many of my readers know, I have been through three different denominations. While I have left two for very specific reasons, I try not to speak too disparagingly of my time in either of them. When I joined The Episcopal Church my mom asked me what I was looking for. Two years later, I think I've found my answer, and it comes from looking at comments in a blog a few weeks ago. I've been looking for identity within a denomination, identity that is honest to itself and with its members about who and what it is. I've already written about why I'm an Epsicopalian at length (here and here). Essentially, we have an identity that is ours that we live and share (although there needs to be a lot more sharing. This using the term "identity" is a new usage for me, although I've been saying it for awhile in different ways.

A few weeks ago I was fascinated as I read through the comments on this blog. I was learning from the essential post about controversy and gatekeeping and rigidity of professors. But then as I read through the comments my eyes just got wider and wider. The blog is a Southern Baptist blog, and I was finding out all kinds of things about the Convention at the Convention level. I had no idea that certain things happened, or that the congregationalism I was so used to wasn't how it always entirely played out. I don't remember specifics not, but there was stuff about the International and Domestic Missions Boards, disagreement at the national level about missionaries and cessation of gifts. I was clueless about that stuff!

I remember being in seventh grade, or maybe just a little earlier, when there was a unit in my Discipleship Training Union book about what it meant to be baptist. There wasn't a lot of information in the student book, and we never got there as a class, so I never got the information. I knew the way we did things differently than other denominations (we only immersed, and the Methodists sprinkled), but I didn't know what made us distinctly us; I wanted something other than the way we were different than others. That isn't to say we were cast against them, but there were definitely times that we learned that we were right and others were wrong (baptism for example).

From the time I saw my grandmother's Book of Discipline I was fascinated, especially by the Social Principles. An entire denomination had adopted statements about what it believed on social issues. At that point in my life I had never seen or heard of The Baptist Faith and Message. I don't recall seeing it until Timothy joined Crawford Road after we all pretty much stopped going to Cascade Hills. As I was growing I was growing dissatisfied with congregationalism, although I didn't know that word for it. I wound up in a United Methodist Church looking for a friend of mine, but finding new friends who played a big part of my life through high school.

There was identity, though. The United Methodist Hymnal has information for learning/teaching about baptism and sacraments, I feel like I read. I borrowed Books of Discipline and flipped through Grandmother's whenever I was at her house. I got very involved, I went to Annual Conference, I bought a Book of Discipline of my own, I graduated from high school and got plugged in to the Wesley Foundation. Then I started reading more United Methodist resources and finding my experience dissonant with teaching and directives from the denomination. I don't have a problem with congregationalism as an idea, but it's not a practice for me to engage in. I got more liturgical and more frustrated with suspicion of being "too Catholic." I got tired of not feeling like identity was being reflected around me.

I am where I'm supposed to be, and the places I've been have shaped me and given me lenses through which I view life. They've impacted my ecclesiology, liturgical sensibility, biblical knowledge, and relationships, relationships, relationships. I don't know if I'd stayed Southern Baptist if I'd known about the higher up machinations of the Convention, but I doubt it. If I'd known that there were liturgical baptists as I was getting more liturgical I might've lasted a little longer. Some experiences in college did a lot of shaping me, which I think would've pushed me out of the SBC.

I feel like this a Debby Downer post, but it's not meant to; it really starts with and continues with a fascination from reading Wade Burleson's blog once and checking back in periodically, actually reading the comments. Stuff that I had no idea happened that as a now-outsider looking in is just fascinating. I get the polity (in large part) of two different denominations, but didn't realize at all that the church of my founding had similarly elaborate polity as well.

Trying not to run this race in vain.

#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.

A Little Humor

Doctrine of Discovery

Check out this piece in Indian Country Today that Fr. Jeff posted on Facebook and then I posted as well. I testified in favor of the resolution at General Convention which the article references. Pass it along as well. The Episcopal Church is working to make strides for justice for indigenous peoples, and the government should listen.

General Convention Wrap Up

Where Was the UYA?

For those who are confused, that's Universal Young Adult, and I couldn't find any of them last night at Genesis night. Now, before I really get going on my feelings, I want to say that I really hope I don't come across as a pretentious ass. The service last night had some good parts to it. I really liked that a lot, if not all, of the music was local to the people bringing it to us. I greatly affirm writing music within congregations that embody where the community comes from.
However, this was a great snapshot to me of The Episcopal Church, somewhat in light of what others have said about the UYA on this blog. Sitting in the back of the House of Deputies like I am is well and good because I can't see the people very well; we're all on the same level so our heads are the same height, and there are diocesan poles in the way. However, last night when Scott Gunn and I walked in (late. We made an appearance), there were people with glowsticks and it was kind of rock-type music. Our seating was ABOVE everyone else, so I could see out over the crowd, even if I couldn't see everything on stage close up.
I really liked that there was a poet at one point. I liked the artist going the whole time. But I was overstimulated, personally. The poet talked about ADD generation and our inability to slow down/unplug, but last night didn't encourage that. During the songs there was music (very performance oriented), video going, an artist being inspired and creating really neat things, and lights changing colors. I didn't know what to focus on. I really wouldn't have mind if someone had sounded a gong once or thrice and smoked the place up with incense (which is NOT the same as a smoke machine blowing onto the band) and let there be some still, calm, silence.
I liked the themes of the worship service, but really thought the Doctrine of Concomitance was missing from one part of the sermon, which is really my only comment on the sermon. However, in looking over the CROWD I had a few thoughts. First, I was transported back to the Chicago with Earth, Wind, and Fire concert I attended in early June. At that concert we were at the very top of the stadium similarly to the way I was at the top of the arena's seating last night. Now, given my experience with worship at a mega church in early high school, I thought, "I think this worship is intended to draw in the Universal Young Adult." But looking over the crowd, I couldn't find any. What I saw were a lot of people in the same general demographic that attended the EWF concert.
What REALLY hit me was that I didn't see (m)any people like me ageise, and I'm in the young adult crowd. And that's The Episcopal Church. I felt like Katrina Browne talks about when she read about the slavery in her family's history and how it'd been there right in front of her the whole time. The aging of The Episcopal Church has been right in front of me at St. Mark's, at Diocesan Convention, at St. Paul's On-the-Hill, and even at General Convention. But it hit me in seeing the boomers LOVING something that's new to them (playing with their glow sticks) that doesn't speak that much to me. I've DONE that. I came into the Episcopal Church (and this is me personally), in part to get away from that.
What last night was for me wasn't about liturgy. It wasn't how I worship, but greatly can appreciate that there are plenty of people who do worship that way. For me it was a call to action for evangelism, particularly to young adults. If anything last night could've been really overwhelming; stats about the number of clergy people under the age of 35 are shocking for someone who HOPES to be ordained by 27. General Convention has been daunting looking and seeing few youngish people. I don't want to sound agist, either. There is a lot of wisdom from people who've been in the church a long time....but a lot of times young adults get shafted.
We're not just cute, inspiring, or sweet for being here. One of the things that I've loved about the Young Adult Presence with EPF is that I think they're really recognizing us for our gifts. While the booth was mostly personned by people who are older, we were given guidelines and told what EPF was supporting and told to "GO!" We didn't have people waking us up, we didn't have people checking-up on our testimony to make it say what they wanted it to. The Official Youth Presence has seat and voice, but not a vote! EPF, however, has asked us to do our research and speak to what's important to us. We've been tracking legislation and reporting to our coordinators daily, but that's been just as much of a time for me to process than anything else. Definitely not a task-mastering thing. They got us here to participate.
And we've participated. We came and have been doing what we came to do. And I'm thankful. I don't know that I have much to add to Cat's great post (and Michelle's post) about recruiting young people, other than really take us seriously. Don't use us as tokens, but really recognize our gifts and talents. Give us special representation, if you think that's important, but let us be us in that context and let us fully participate. Step 1: don't invite us somewhere giving us seat and voice and then not actually let us vote. And please give us grace. Remember that we're young and not always "established." I'm 22 and just graduated from college. I have no idea what I'm going to do in seminary; for undergrad I didn't have to pay for much other than gas and car insurance (scholarship). Others I knew had to buy things. We don't often make much money and give when we can.
My next step is going to be proposing people pledge $1/wk to "be known to the treasturer" and then start subtly taking over.

Honey, what are you wearing?

I didn't get up to go to committee yesterday. I did get up and listen to the House of Bishops take up C056, which has to take up blessings. I liveblogged the debate, which was really good. You can follow all my General Convention updates at twitter.com/JosephPMathews. I had a piece of cheesecake for breakfast before that. The bishop gave it to me on Sunday after the diocesan luncheon. You can also follow ALL of what's going on about convention via twitter at search.twitter.com and searching for "#ecgc". When someone moved to postpone the discussion on C056 yesterday I left and went downstairs, but I didn't! Some of my legislation (new entry in a few minutes) came up so I stayed through it.
Before debate I was verbally assaulted by someone in charge of running the room, though. One person came up and told me and the guy from Center Aisle that we couldn't plug in. As soon as it was out of her mouth another woman came over, said it again, and then unceremoniously unplugged our computers. And then the chaplain prayed. And then she said, "You need to move your cords so that people don't trip!" When we asked why the answer was, "We're paying for power!" After my tweets someone posted this blog entry, which when I got it made me laugh. As the house session started the PB apologized to the bishops for the ENS headline about C025, and she said it would be fixed.
I was also wearing my Harry Potter costume all day yesterday.Throughout the day I got a lot of questions about it, but they were all positive. I explained and people laughed and enjoyed it. Since it's purple I was going to take it off for the House of Bishops, but Bishop Jacobus told me to go for it and have a good time. So I did. I took it off for Eucharist so as to not be a distraction or draw undue attention to myself. As I went down the escalator to go to the EPF booth to drop my robe off before Eucharist a beautiful young clergywoman said, "Honey, what're you wearing?" so I told her.
After session I went to eucharist and wound up sitting wiht a lot of EPF Yappers. We weren't big fans of the music yesterday. I got a veggie wrap (#3) from the exhibit all vendors and listened to EDS's new dean speak. I liked what she said. After it I went and spoke to the deacons and then campus ministry, where I was recruited to try to deliver a message to the House of Bishops, from which someone had borrowed campus ministry's pace banner. After that failed I sat on the floor and waited for them to get out of closed door session. I got in and they said that they'd take C056 back up today, so I left. It was about time for our EPF meeting by that point, too. We'd postponed from the day before (that was D025 discussion time). Someone from Episcopal Life, who posted the story online at that link.
We didn't really do legislative check in because we were all kind of tired and anxious about what was going to be happening, but we had a great conversation (I think) about D025. Most of us had been in the house of Bishops when they'd debated and voted, and we needed some time to just do group therapy and decompress (I think). It was really good to talk. We talked about Anglican polity, fear, the bishop who felt that others were hiding behind the smokescreen of the Communion, etc. When we broke I went back to the room to drop my bag and robe....
And then went to my first march. There will be pictures on Facebook. The neatest part was when we all took our signs down and were at our destination and people talked. I had to leave early because I was working Traces of the Trade. On the way back I was chatting with someone from Integrity who said that power strips had been put in the media area and when she went back the door keepers made a point of directing her to more power. That's amusing, too. When I got to the Marriott I checked in with Dain and Constance and then went to the diocesan hospitality room, where I got some grapes and enjoyed sitting with people from the Central Gulf Coast.,p>Traces of the Tradee was great, and it's inspired a blog entry for later today sometime After it I went to the room, got changed and was off to the theater. I have some interesting thoughts about Harry Potter and spiritual formation (that may be specific to me) that I'll blog later, too. Be looking for more content from me in the next few days! I have to write today's collect, as well.
Be well, do good works, and keep in touch.

Prayer - Day 7

God of wisdom, love, and grace, you are the source of peace, knowledge, and understanding: give us the grace and courage to represent each other fairly as we seek to understand each others' vastly different perspectives so that when those outside seek information they will be given an accurate picture not only of events but of our love for you and one another, through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever. Amen.

Witness C059 - Disavowal of the Doctrine of Discovery

The World is About to Turn

Today, I did not go to a committee meeting. My resolutions are still in committee. See previous post. I started my day in the House of Bishops, but they recessed for a few minutes and we left. Jessie and I went to the National Altar Guild's Ecclesiastical Arts exhibit, which was neat, especially the Three Kings. Then I went down to the House of Deputies to see what was going on. I don't really remember, but I did work on my knitting for a bit...and found out that the Bishop and Deputies of Venezuela aren't at General Convention because the US government wouldn't give them visas, despite having one or two (depending on the person) letters from the Secretary of the House of Deputies.

At Eucharist we sang a song many of you know I adore: "Canticle of the Turning," which is a paraphrase of the Magnificat. We've still yet to sing the Gloria, to my recollection, as the song of praise but this was pretty good. The sermon today was GREAT as well. It can be found on the G-Chub (pronounced just like it looks). I have a recording of the "Canticle of the Turning" on my computer, phone, and iPod. I was a chalice bearer again. :) I offer this for you NOT about the rest of the post, but rather to share what happened in worship today.

After Eucharist I went to the hotel and got my leftovers from last night's Indian food run, which was really good. It was just as good (maybe better) cold as it was warm. I had a piece of cheesecake from yesterday's diocesan lunch, too. I listened to The Consultation's speaker, who was good and taught me about Anglican women at the UN, both from the US and abroad. After that I went by the deacons' booth to get them to look at my knitting; I'm picking up lots of stitches, apparently. When I finished there I had a brief meeting with the Rev. Jayne Oasin. I'm applying to be on the Executive Council Committee on Anti-Racism. Then I went to the House of Bishops.

When I went in it was just because there was a rumor that D025 would come up, but no guarantee of that....but it did come up and it did relatively quickly. The bishops took 30 minutes of conversations at their tables and then moved to more full floor debate. The House of Bishops is a fun place because they know each other from meeting so many times every year in a way that the deputies simply can't. Debate was good and exciting, and I had to put my knitting down to focus on debate. (It wasn't nearly as relaxing as some people said it would be, largely in part because I make my stitches too tight, which makes it harder, ergo more frustrating, etc. etc.) There came a time when it felt like most people were ready for the question to be called, but no one would call it....until finally they did. And after prayer a roll call vote was taken on an amended form of the resolution. And it passed 99-45-2.

After that a group of us went to the Young Adult Festival's reception, where Canterbury USC lead us in worship, which was different but very much indigenous to their campus ministry, I think. And if there's one thing I do understand, it's campus ministries doing indigenous worship that works for them. After that I got dinner (Indian again) with a new friend and then had a tweetup. After that it was late and over here to blog, and I am almost done.

But first I want to re-emphasize that my posting of the video of "Canticle of the Turning" is NOT about D025. I supported D025, but it wasn't one that I was tracking. Yes, there are some changes that could be in the works both for TEC and the Anglican Communion, assuming that D025 gets through committee again and past the House of Deputies floor (which I would assume). But relative to the true liberation that comes in Christ, I don't think D025 is worth twisting the Magnificat into being about; it's about alllllll injustice in all times and place. I'm having a hard time conveying what I'm feeling, but I hope y'all understand.

inally, I offer you pictures: General Convention Part 2 (which features photos from the Integrity eucharist).

Prayer - Day 6

God of Imagination, you dreamed us then spoke us into creation and sent your Son Jesus who raised others from the dead, arose from the dead himself, and raised us to new life: help us to remember that with you and your Church nothing is impossible, not even the stuff of fantasy; so that we may not be discouraged as we answer the Gospel call and do as we discern through Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.