Grace in the press

If you follow this blog, you know that Grace got some negative press in February over conditions in the shelter that is housed in the basement of our education wing. A couple of weeks ago, there was an article in the Capital Times that mentioned there is no air conditioning in the shelter. I am more than willing to accept criticism when it’s valid and appropriate. Conditions in the shelter are not ideal, and it’s true there’s no A/C in it, but then there’s no A/C in our sanctuary either. What I don’t appreciate is criticism, even implicit, that focuses on Grace.

So in tomorrow’s Isthmus, the cover article concerns the Roman Catholic Bishop of Madison, and growing criticism from progressive Catholics about his leadership. For some reason, the Isthmus thought it appropriate to include in the cover photo Grace’s steeple. The image is here. Now, I suppose one might argue that the steeple of Grace Church is an iconic image of Madison, indeed of Christianity in Madison. But so far as I know, Bishop Molino has never crossed the threshold of Grace, although he’s welcome any time he would like to visit.

More importantly, Grace is not a Catholic church. Far from it. We are Episcopal and we represent much of what Bishop Molino and traditional Catholics oppose. We ordain women. We welcome any baptized Christian to our services and to receive communion, including those who have been divorced and those who might have remarried. We welcome gays and lesbians. We welcome all who seek a closer relationship to God through Jesus Christ.

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not criticizing Bishop Molino. He and I may have very different views, but we are both seeking to live out our faith in Jesus Christ and to share that faith with others. My criticism is with the Isthmus.

I suppose I wouldn’t be so annoyed by Grace’s steeple appearing on the front cover of the Isthmus if we hadn’t bought an ad, welcoming people to Madison area Episcopal churches, that includes in it the image of Grace’s steeple.

Lord, Teach us to Pray: A Sermon for Proper 12, Year C

July 25, 2010

Clergy have a complex relationship with clerical collars. We can all tell stories of times when we harassed or harangued by people who had a grudge against the church. Some priests resist wearing a collar except on the most liturgical of occasions. One reason I wear one as often as I do is because wearing the collar opens up all kinds of possibilities and leads to encounters that might otherwise not happen. Continue reading

The ABC on Anabaptists and Mennonites

Inhabitatio Dei points to a passage in Rowan Williams’ address to the Lutheran World Federation. The LWF is officially repenting for the persecution of Anabaptists by Lutherans in the sixteenth century. Williams said:

One other crucial focus today is, of course, the act of reconciliation with Christians of the Mennonite/Anabaptist tradition.  It is in relation to this tradition that all the ‘historic’ confessional churches have perhaps most to repent, given the commitment of the Mennonite communities to non-violence.  For these churches to receive the penitence of our communities is a particularly grace-filled acknowledgement that they still believe in the Body of Christ that they have need of us; and we have good reason to see how much need we have of them, as we look at a world in which centuries of Christian collusion with violence has left so much unchallenged in the practices of power.  Neither family of believers will be simply capitulating to the other; no-one is saying we should forget our history or abandon our confession.  But in the global Christian community in which we are called to feed one another, to make one another human by the exchange of Christ’s good news, we can still be grateful for each other’s difference and pray to be fed by it.

As a former Mennonite, and as a former scholar of Anabaptism (in particular their treatment by other confessions in the sixteenth century), I have been thankful that it is no longer required of ordinands that we swear our commitment to the 39 Articles, which include in them a strong repudiation of adult baptism and other practices associated with sixteenth-century Anabaptists.

I’m unaware of any similar movement, either within the Episcopal Church or in wider Anglicanism, to address the historical condemnations by our tradition of Anabaptists.

The full text of Williams’ address is here.

Often, the disagreements among Christians that occasionally culminated in violence are now viewed by most contemporary Christians as quaint and misguided. But dismissing them masks the real theological differences that underlay those conflicts, as well as the long-term effects on both sides. As Williams states, the Anabaptist tradition confronts us “as we look at a world in which centuries of Christian collusion with violence has left so much unchallenged in the practices of power.”

The ABC on Religion and Secularism

There’s an interview with Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, in The New Statesman. It shows him at his best: thinking hard about Christianity and contemporary culture and about the overall role of religion in society. He seems a bit to ready to me to argue for the importance of religion in shaping moral arguments but I do think there is something in his statement that religious language and imagery deepens our human reflection. He is also asked about the declining importance of religion in England, and the declining role played by the Church of England. Money quote:

There are bits of human experience and ­suffering that have to go somewhere, and ­secular society simply doesn’t have the
spaces, the words or the rituals. This does not translate into conventional church attendance and orthodox belief – and perhaps it seldom has in history, if the truth be told; but it still takes for granted a body/community/place where a person can feel related to something more than the sum of their own anxieties and their society’s normal patterns of talk and behaviour.

He’s on to something there but of course he’s not the first to say it. One could argue he is echoing Mircea Eliade’s notion of the sacred. He is also describing something I’ve detected when talking and observing people who come into Grace Church on Saturday mornings.

Beating the Heat

There was an article in today’s paper about the challenges facing homeless people during heat waves. Of course, one of the issues raised was the fact that there is no air conditioning in the shelter at Grace. While I’ve never been homeless, I have lived in cities without AC. I know how hot it can get in third floor apartments. When I lived in Boston in the 80s, I quickly learned where to go to beat the heat. It wasn’t easy back then, because most of Harvard’s buildings lacked AC. Sure bets were movie theaters and super markets. For $2.50, you could get a double feature in the somewhat effective air-conditioned space at the Harvard Square theater. I saw lots of movies in the summer.

Yes, it would be expensive to put AC in the shelter at Grace. Even more expensive would be the bill from MGE. What people don’t know, even most members of Grace, is that while Porchlight does pay us rent for the space, we pay for utilities. We don’t know how much of our utility usage comes from the shelter, but it’s likely to be substantial. Our annual budget for utilities is a little less than 10% of our total operating budget. That’s a chunk of change.

There’s no AC in the shelter. We do have it in the offices, but we don’t have it in the church itself, the guild hall, and the kitchen. It gets hot in all of those places, too, unbearably so in the kitchen.

Martha, Mary, and the Better Part: A Sermon for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 11, Year C)

Whenever I hear the story of Mary and Martha, I find myself thinking about two of my aunts—my dad’s sisters—who in an earlier age were called old maids. I think especially of my dad’s oldest sister. She was the oldest daughter in a family of 11 children. She only went to high school for a year, because getting there proved to be just too difficult (it was six miles away). She spent her life taking care of her younger siblings. Then as they left the home, she continued to care for her parents, and the one sister and brother who remained on the farm. Of course, she also took care of us—her nieces and nephews when we came to visit. When her mother and brother died in the space of a year and a half, Dorothy suddenly was left without much to do.

Continue reading

Madison Early Music Festival

I’ve been enjoying Madison’s musical riches this summer. First there was the Bach Dancing and Dynamite Society. This week, it’s the Madison Early Music Festival. We attended the concert on Tuesday evening by Liber. The program was entitled Flyleaves and focused on music found in random manuscript pages. Much of the music was transcendent and there were several surprises. There were the usual Marian hymns but also a hymn to the Trinity, and others in praise of Ss. Catherine and Barbara.

The concert ended with an Ite Missa Est from the chapel of King Edward III, c. 1350-1360. It was remarkable and left me wondering if other sections of that mass setting survived.

Last night we heard Benjamin Bagby perform Beowulf. What a delight! It’s been over a decade since I taught the text in Humanities. To be honest, I always found it difficult to get a handle on. Bagby’s performance accompanied by a replica early-medieval harp, was transfixing. Translations just don’t convey the beauty of the language and to hear it, with supertitles above, is to experience something of the otherness of the world of Beowulf. Part of its inaccessibility to me was that it seemed to take place in a world very different than the early medieval world with which I was familiar. Of course that’s because the early medieval world I know is literate, Christian, and Latinate.

The other interesting thing for me last night was discovering how religious and how biblical the text is. Commentators are quick to point out that the poem does not articulate a particularly “Christian” perspective, that it seems careful to reference stories from the early chapters of Genesis, and its God seems shaped by those chapters. The Biblical imagery at times seems to lie lightly on the text as a whole. But there are also clear moments where the author is critical of his characters for their paganism and alludes to the thorny question for later generations of Christians whether their ancestors were damned.

The crisis in Religious Studies

Well, perhaps crisis is too strong a word, but there is a growing debate over the academic study of religion. It’s not new by any means. In fact the study of religion is fairly young as academic disciplines go. It only really became a department in most liberal arts colleges and universities in the second half of the twentieth century and then only haltingly. It had to struggle against the fields of biblical studies and theology. It struggles still.

The debate has become more intense in the last decade or so as a number of scholars have gone to war against theology in religious studies. This may seem all rather esoteric but at the heart of the debate is the role of “believers” and “belief” in the academic study of religion.

Ivan Strenski is one of those scholars and he makes the case again in an essay on Religion Dispatches. The full essay is here. He is commenting on a conference, organized by a Philosophy Department around Charles Taylor’s work. What Strenski points out is that most of the participants in the conference have little notion of what religion is. Furthermore, there is among scholars of religion, and in the wider academy, considerable uncertainty about what scholars of religion should do. Strenski cites the example of Stanley Fish, who wanted to create a religion department staffed exclusively by scholars who were practitioners. That’s nonsense of course. We don’t expect scholars of literature to be poets, musicologists to be musicians. In fact, most of us would probably assume that objectivity (whatever that is) about one’s field of study is at least a goal for scholars, teachers, and students.

The problem facing Religious Studies is made clear by the other post on Religion Dispatches. It addresses the recent case of an adjunct professor, a Roman Catholic priest, whose salary is paid by an outside Catholic organization. He taught courses at the University of Illinois and came under fire for an email he sent to his students in which he used Natural Moral Law to argue against homosexual activity.

This is precisely what incenses scholars like Strenski. Should a public university support sectarian teaching for credit? We struggled with the same question when I taught at Furman University, which had severed ties with the South Carolina Baptist Convention in the early 1990s. We occasionally received requests from students to grant major credit for courses they took at local seminaries. Typically, we denied it. Still, there were those in the department whose teaching was (and is) overwhelmingly theological.

And I will admit that I often came to class after 2005 wearing a clerical collar. But few students ever complained that I was attempting to indoctrinate them or that I was teaching from an Episcopal perspective. Far from it. Most of them thought I was an atheist.

Still, I do think that Religious Studies, as an academic and humanistic discipline, needs to draw a bright line between what happens in it as a discipline, and the theological and biblical studies that largely function in support of the institutional churches, and in support of the spiritual quests of students.

In fact, it’s not that hard that to negotiate that path. The easiest way is to begin by acknowledging to oneself and to one’s students, that one’s perspective is a product of one’s own faith, intellectual and spiritual development and by definition narrow and not omnipotent.

Women Bishops in England!

Well, not quite so fast. General Synod today voted to accept the plan for implementation of women bishops. It now goes to the dioceses for comment and input, and will come back before General Synod in 2012, I believe. There is much consternation among conservatives and speculation among some observers that a mass exodus will ensue. Truth be told, all I know about the Church of England is what I read in blogs, so I’m hardly an expert prognosticator.

Much of the news in the past few days has had to do with the defeat of the Archbishops’ amendment, which would have provided for something of a two-track episcopacy, in deference to those who refuse to believe women can be bishops (or priests, for that matter). Many think that the amendment’s defeat, coming on top of the disastrous outcome for the renewed push to appoint Jeffery Johns (gay, but celibate) as Bishop of Southwark, has dealt a body-blow to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s prestige and authority. I have no idea if that’s true. I do know that the ABC has lost considerable support on this side of the Atlantic.

I find two things surprising. First is that the Archbishops’ Amendment was defeated by votes from the clergy (it had to pass in all three orders–bishops, clergy, and lay). Second, the overwhelming majority by which the overall measure passed: 374 in favor, 14 against, 17 abstentions.

I’m all for trying to accommodate, and indeed retain minority viewpoints within the larger church, but the noes and abstentions amount to less than 10% of the total votes cast. That’s not a minority. All of the years of bending over backward to accommodate oponents of women’s ordination is little more than allowing the tail to wag the dog.

Let’s see how many clergy actually swim the Tiber.

Do This and You will Live: A Sermon for the 7th Sunday after Pentecost (proper 10, Year C)

I don’t know about you, but the parable of the Good Samaritan annoys me. It especially annoys me, since I’ve been ordained a priest. It’s at the back of my mind every time I walk out the door, every time someone stops me to ask me for money. It popped into my mind yesterday, as Corrie and I were walking to the Farmer’s Market, and passed someone sleeping in the grass. As we went by, Corrie asked me, “He is breathing, isn’t he?” We didn’t give it another thought; although I’ll admit, I did look for him when as we made our way home an hour or so later. Continue reading