wesley

On Earth as in Heaven

I was very struck by Mtr Kara’s sermon last week, particularly her acute observation that our current social malaise, described by so many people as “unprecedented,” is in fact quite precedented. The violence, famine, war, hatred, prejudice, injustice, political intrigue — the list goes on and on. We’ve seen all of this before. And a cursory glance at almost any book of the Bible confirms our propensity towards what might be most accurately described as “sin.” The natural reaction to all of this might be screaming and cursing the universe, running away and distancing ourselves, or burying our heads in the sand. Fight, flight, or freeze, well-known stress responses that our primal brain uses when we feel in danger, responses that can keep us alive. But is there another way? A better way?

I am being utterly sincere when I say that I cannot think of a better time to be a Christian. I read something dire almost every day about the rise of agnosticism, the decline of the Church, the end of Christianity. Which is perhaps all factually true. What is also true is that depression is on the rise, loneliness is on the rise, suicide is on the rise, addiction is on the rise. In the words of the old spiritual, “If we ever needed the Lord before, we sure do need him now.” It may very well be that we are in the midst of a second Reformation, a time to reclaim the Gospel from the bondage of Christian Nationalism and false teachings. What an incredible opportunity we have as people of The Way to make true the sacred words that were put down on paper 2000 years ago, “On earth as it is in heaven.”

In his compelling book Do I Stay Christian, Brian McLaren writes, “Religion, at its best, is what re-ligaments or reconnects us to God, one another, and creation. It challenges the stories that pit us against each other: us over them, us overturning them, us competing with them, us isolating from them, us in spite of them, us purifying ourselves of them. It tells a better story—some of us for all of us—a story in which there is no them, a story in which we tear down the walls that have divided us—and from the rubble build bridges.”

I was talking to Kara this afternoon and observed that one of best things about The Episcopal Church is that even as we embrace differences, cherish diversity, and think creatively, we are bound together by our liturgy, and most importantly, by the Eucharist. We come together at a common table to eat and drink, not despite our differences, but because of our differences. On earth, as it is in heaven.

Holy Laughter

“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, “The LORD has done great things for them.” (Psalm 126:2)

If you’re at all like me, you might be finding yourself in need of some laughter these days. We find ourselves navigating an onslaught of bleak and depressing headlines, we seem unable or unwilling to end war or famine, we despair as our planet literally burns, and we find it increasingly difficult to imagine a bright and equitable and peaceful future for our children and grandchildren. It’s grim. What is there to laugh about, rejoice in, celebrate? 

When was the last time you laughed so hard that you cried? I remember being a teenager and staying up late watching ‘Saturday Night Live,’ laughing until I was short of breath and my stomach hurt. It was an absolute release. The SNL jokes and sketches were often raunchy and certainly not appropriate for the Trinity Church ePistle. But the laughter - it was holy. 

Anne Lamott says “laughter is carbonated holiness.” Have you ever heard Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s laugh? Holy.

The humorist (and Episcopalian) Garrison Keillor quipped, “You know you are a Episcopalian when it’s 100 degrees, with 90% humidity, and you still have coffee after the service,” and “You hear something really funny during the sermon and smile as loudly as you can.” Can you feel yourself grinning and nodding in agreement and recognition?

I think there should be a yearly church commemoration of Robin Williams ‘Top 10 Reasons to be Episcopalian.’ Williams, a cradle Episcopalian, was a master of not taking oneself too seriously, and we were all blessed by his ministry of holy (and unholy) laughter. So here’s the list. Feel free to add your own. Maybe we should nail them to the door of the church, like Luther’s 95 theses. Enjoy. 

Robin Williams’s Top 10 Reasons to be Episcopalian: 

10. No snake handling.

9. You can believe in dinosaurs.

8. Male and female God created them; male and female we ordain them.

7. You don't have to check your brains at the door.

6. Pew aerobics.

5. Church year is color-coded.

4. Free wine on Sunday.

3. All of the pageantry - none of the guilt.

2. You don't have to know how to swim to get baptized.

And the NUMBER ONE reason to be an Episcopalian:

1. No matter what you believe, there's bound to be at least one other Episcopalian who agrees with you.

Wishing you the blessing of carbonated holiness,

Wesley

Bibles and Newspapers

I don’t know how I became a “news junkie,” but I suppose it was the same way that anyone becomes addicted to anything: I got a taste of something that made me feel good and informed and excited (and smugly superior), and so I gradually needed more and more of it to satiate my desire, and before I knew it I would go into withdrawal unless I got my daily dosage.

The problem for many of us who grew up with the seemingly limited selection of only 3 news channels (CBS, ABC, NBC) is the overwhelming choice, the sheer volume of information coming at us, in amounts that our brains may not be designed to absorb. Naval Ravikant, American entrepreneur and investor warns, “The human brain is not designed to absorb all the world’s breaking news, 24/7 emergencies injected straight into your skull with clickbait headline news. If you pay attention to that stuff, even if you’re well-meaning, even if you’re of sound mind and body, it will eventually drive you insane.”

The renowned theologian Karl Barth said that pastors should “Take your Bible and take your newspaper, and read both. But interpret newspapers from your Bible.” 

I think some of us do quite the opposite and “interpret the Bible from our newspapers.” I wonder what Barth would have made of our endless 24/7 news cycle, clamoring for attention with seductive clickbait. I wonder what he would’ve said about my reaching for my phone and NY Times updates, before I reached for my Book of Common Prayer and before doing my morning prayers. It seems that we (I) have put the cart before the horse. 

How can we see Louisiana’s recent law requiring that the Ten Commandments be displayed in public schools through the lens of scripture? What does the Bible have to say about Oklahoma‘s new law requiring the Bible to be taught in public schools? And does the Bible have anything to say about the Presidential debates? 

One of the most dangerous phrases in history is “The Bible is clear..” and so I’m certainly not going to proscribe specific biblical passages that speak to our current political landscape. 

But what I will invite us to do, is before we gorge ourselves on the non-stop toxic smorgasbord that is the news, we spend some time with scripture and in prayer and meditation. 

Our Old Testament lectionary reading this week could be a good start:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:22-23)

As Episcopalians, we are called, commanded even, every week to “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord” and our ecstatic response is “Thanks be to God. Alleluia! Alleluia!” 

With God as our guide, with love as our song, the news of the world is an opportunity for us to serve. And I think then we can heed Barth’s call and actually change the world through a Christocentric lens.  And what could that change look like for us? For the world?

Welcome Home

Lord, you have searched me out and known me; you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;  it is so high that I cannot attain to it. For you yourself created my inmost parts;  you knit me together in my mother's womb. I will thank you because I am marvelously made; your works are wonderful, and I know it well. My body was not hidden from you,  while I was being made in secret and woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb; all of them were written in your book; they were fashioned day by day, when as yet there was none of them. How deep I find your thoughts, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I were to count them, they would be more in number than the sand. (Psalm 139)

Matthew Shepard was a gay 21-year-old college student who died 25 years ago, the victim of a vicious anti-gay hate crime. Matthew’s shocking death electrified the gay rights movement, and he remains an icon among the LGBTQIA+ community. For 20 years, his parents Judy and Dennis did not know where to inter his ashes; they wanted him to be somewhere safe where he could not be attacked again. In 2018, Matthew was interred at the Cathedral of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, DC. At the service, The Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, the first openly gay Bishop in The Episcopal Church, heartbreakingly and beautifully ended his homily with “welcome home.” 

I recently announced my intention to start (or restart) a special interest group here at Trinity for members and friends who identify as LGBTQIA+ and I was surprised by the response. Yes, there were quite a few people who identify as LGBTQIA+ who reached out to me, but the main interest came from folks who are grandparents or parents or siblings or uncles and aunts of LGBTQIA+ loved ones. And it moved me to tears. With all the hatred and despair that threatens our humanity, and our seeming indifference and inability to see the image of God and to seek and serve Christ in all persons, your responses were a balm in Gilead. 

Oasis, our new Trinity LGBTQIA+ group will officially start in the Fall, and it wonderfully seems like we will need a separate group for allies and supporters. What a blessing!  Princeton Pride 2024 is June 22, and I would like to invite all of Trinity to be a part of our parish’s pride celebration. I’m thinking of it as our first Oasis official unofficial meeting before the Fall. In the coming weeks, we will let you know how you can help with planning. It will be a party!

Friends, today’s political and social climate threatens to reverse many of the gains made by marginalized groups over the last 60 years. The Episcopal Church stands firm in its commitment to justice and equality. In June 2023, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry issued a message of encouragement to “all of my LGBTQ+ family members,” noting, “I believe deep in my soul that God is always seeking to create a world and a society where all are loved, where justice is done, and where the God-given equality of us all is honored in our relationships, in our social arrangements, and in law.”

The good Good News is this: You are seen, you are loved, you are made in the very image of God.

The Apostle Paul said: “There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

Welcome Home

Let it Shine

Two weeks ago I attended The Metropolitan Opera premiere of ‘El Niño,” by the contemporary American composer John Adams. The opera is a retelling of the Nativity story through the eyes of the Virgin Mary. It is a mighty work, and worthy of its own reflection, but today I want to focus on one of the stars of the production, bass-baritone Davóne Tines.

Tines is a Juilliard graduate and is one of the most exciting, singular artists on the classical music scene today. He can interpret a Bach aria and match the mighty work with equal aplomb. Tines and his band Davóne Tines & The Truth just released their first recording, ‘Let it Shine,’ and I have been listening to it nonstop for the past week.

‘Let it Shine’ is a reimagining of the familiar spiritual ‘This Little Light of Mine,’ and the way it builds on a simple motif is powerful and overwhelming. The structure brings to mind Ravel’s ‘Bolero’ and the layering techniques of Phillip Glass. Tines also filters his artistry through his very personal lens of Blackness and queerness, resulting in an output that is quite unique.

I invite you to listen to the recording, several times at full volume (link here), and explore with me — as well as your friends and family and community — the following questions:

Jesus said, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:1). What does it mean for Christians to let our lives shine before others? In which ways are we doing or not doing this in our daily lives? And how can we apply it more fully in our lives?

Davóne Tines’s rendition almost bursts at the seams with exuberance, but the musical structure is scrupulously maintained. How do we exist within God’s structure (protection might be a better word here) and still “let it shine?”

Albert Camus wrote, “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion,” and the Apostle Paul declares,“For freedom Christ has set us free!” (Galatians 5:1). How is letting your light at its fullest and brightest revolutionary? What are the things of this world that try to limit the brightness and freedom of children of God living into their most authentic selves? How do we as Christians lift others to freedom?

Oasis LGBTQ+ Group

It is a clear positive that civil and human rights for the LGBTQIA+ community have progressed greatly in the last few decades. It is also very clear that hatred and violence towards queer people is on the rise. In the first three months of 2024, over 300 anti-gay bills have been introduced in state legislatures across the country. Many of these bills invoke Christianity as the impetus behind them. There is still so much work to be done.

Oasis is the Trinity Church group for people who identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community. We plan to gather in the weeks after Easter (TBA) for the opportunity to fellowship together and explore how our queerness is a gift from God.

Please contact Wesley Rowell (rowellw@trinityprinceton.org) if you are interested in joining the Oasis group.

Seeking Justice

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about how we as a Church (both big C and little c) see ourselves and our mission in the world. The world is on literally and figuratively on fire and what are we supposed to do about it?

I recently took the General Ordination Exams (GOE) for The Episcopal Church. Writing the GOEs are a requirement for the priesthood in The Episcopal Church, as well as a rite of institutional passage. There are 6 essay questions taken over 3 days, with 3.5 hours allotted for each answer. It's grueling, but it can also be illuminating, fun, and a bit dangerous.

The first question of the second day was the Church History question, and we were instructed to profile 2 Episcopal Bishops, one modern (consecrated after 1945) and one historical (consecrated between 1810-1880), and to reflect on how our 2 examples could inform a newly elected Bishop today.

As a relatively new Episcopalian, I was excited to dig deeper into our history, and decided to research and report on an anti-slavery, abolitionist Bishop. Imagine my dismay and distress upon discovering there wasn't a single one. Not even one. I already knew that The Episcopal Church was the only major Christian denomination that did not split during the Civil War. I already knew that The Episcopal Church's complicity created deep wounds that we are still healing. And I know it’s quite possible that, given my research limitations, I might have missed something or someone. But for some reason, finding not a single Bishop who was courageous enough to speak out against the horrors of slavery stunned me into silence and sadness and rage. And into a writer's block that lasted an hour, before I managed to cobble together an answer that wasn't, by my own standards, sufficient.

צֶדֶק (tzedek), the Hebrew word for justice, appears over 400 times in the Old Testament, and it is crystal clear that God requires us to "Do justice and love mercy." Even when it's not convenient; perhaps especially when it's not convenient.  When Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated in 1968, he had a disapproval rating of 75%. His disapproval rating was even high among African-Americans, partly because of his increasing outspokenness against the Vietnam war. MLK paid the price for the courage of his convictions with his life. And so did Jesus.

"My Bishop '' ended up being Bishop William White of Philadelphia, who was the first and fourth Presiding Bishop of The Episcopal Church. Bishop White ordained Absalom Jones, the first Black man ordained in The Episcopal Church, in 1795, and was committed to the American Revolutionary cause.  And although Bishop White was a bright light in my sea of despair, I was unable to use him in my essay because his consecration did not happen during the stated rubric of the exam question. But he gave me hope.

This is my cue to ask myself, and to ask you to ask yourself, "What do I believe and what or who am I willing to stand up for?" Our passions, our beliefs, our truths are required. Whatever the issues, whatever the needs, be they local, national, or international, we are the hands and feet of God in this world.

Jesus said "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed." (Luke 4:18)

We as a parish, as a beloved community, have everything we need to make a difference in the world. Our Eucharistic Prayer says that we present our entire selves as a living sacrifice to God. My prayer is we all, in every way we can, continually seek out and do צֶדֶק

Advent Credo

I love this poem by Allan Boesak.  It speaks to the mystery of Advent, and particularly to the reality of the in-breaking of Christ into our lives in a profound way. Allan Boesak  is a South African pastor and theologian in the Dutch Reformed Church, politician, anti-apartheid activist, and author. This poem is taken from his book Walking on Thorns. As you read these words, I invite you to reflect on how Advent challenges us to hope; yes even hope against hope.

Advent Credo

It is not true that creation and the human family are doomed to destruction and loss—
This is true: For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life;

It is not true that we must accept inhumanity and discrimination, hunger and poverty, death and destruction—
This is true: I have come that they may have life, and that abundantly.

It is not true that violence and hatred should have the last word, and that war and destruction rule forever—
This is true: Unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, his name shall be called wonderful councilor, mighty God, the Everlasting, the Prince of peace.

It is not true that we are simply victims of the powers of evil who seek to rule the world—
This is true: To me is given authority in heaven and on earth, and lo I am with you, even until the end of the world.

It is not true that we have to wait for those who are specially gifted, who are the prophets of the Church before we can be peacemakers—
This is true: I will pour out my spirit on all flesh and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your young men shall see visions and your old men shall have dreams.

It is not true that our hopes for liberation of humankind, of justice, of human dignity of peace are not meant for this earth and for this history—
This is true: The hour comes, and it is now, that the true worshipers shall worship God in spirit and in truth.

So let us enter Advent in hope, even hope against hope. Let us see visions of love and peace and justice. Let us affirm with humility, with joy, with faith, with courage: Jesus Christ—the life of the world.