Wednesday, June 30, 2010

New sermons online!

For those of you who were there, and some who weren't, who would like to hear my sermon from Tabernacle Baptist Church on 6.27.10, I just posted it on my podbean site. It will also be up on itunes as soon as it works through the system. (I have no idea how long that will take). Preaching at Tabernacle was fun-- the Baptists are big fans of preaching, and I felt under a lot of pressure. The preparation for this one was kind of amazing. It is interesting how the prep process for sermons is usually more of an experience for me than the actual preaching. So many interesting things happened to me that week. I'll write more, later. Meanwhile, thanks to the kind and generous folks of Tabernacle their warmth and for listening.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Church Monuments

If you have never read any George Herbert, I commend him to you today. (Especially you Anglican types out there). I am a big fan of poetry. Lately I have been looking at George Herbert and some Billy Collins as well. (Not that they belong in the same breath... but I think Billy Collins has produced some beautiful poetry lately).

George Herbert was an Anglican Priest, and he took up holy orders late in life (kind of like me). He left a rock star life as a scholar and politician to become a parish priest in a small town near Salisbury, England. He was known as a kind and compassionate pastor providing comfort for the sick, food for the hungry and a love for the sacraments. I think he ought to be the patron saint of second career clergy.

A couple of spots in this poem that are worth noting:

I like this line:
"That flesh is but the glass which holds the dust
That measures all our time; which also shall
Be crumbled into dust."


I like how he juxtaposes the image of an hourglass on to the image of human flesh being "glass which holds the dust..." I can picture him going to his old Parish church and praying by himself in a pew, looking around at all the dust covering the ancient structure.

I also enjoy how he captures the moment of being still- doing what the Buddhists call "stopping." He seems to be "stopped" thoroughly in the moment of prayer, taking in what surrounds him in the moment.

Enjoy!

Church Monuments- George Herbert


While that my soul repairs to her devotion,
Here I intomb my flesh, that it betimes
May take acquaintance of this heap of dust;
To which the blast of death's incessant motion,
Fed with the exhalation of our crimes,
Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust

My body to this school, that it may learn
To spell his elements, and find his birth
Written in dusty heraldry and lines;
Which dissolution sure doth best discern,
Comparing dust with dust, and earth with earth.
These laugh at jet and marble put for signs,

To sever the good fellowship of dust,
And spoil the meeting. What shall point out them,
When they shall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat
To kiss those heaps, which now they have in trust?
Dear flesh, while I do pray, learn here thy stem
And true descent, that when thou shalt grow fat

And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayst know
That flesh is but the glass which holds the dust
That measures all our time; which also shall
Be crumbled into dust. Mark, here below
How tame these ashes are, how free from lust,
That thou mayst fit thyself against thy fall.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

On My Way

I have a song stuck in my head. This happens to me on many a day, because I think in song lyrics. Perhaps I inherited this habit from my Mom, who, at the drop of a hat, would take any opportunity to sing song lyrics that she was reminded of in the moment.
Someone would say, "I saw her face..."
And Mom would sing, "The first time... ever I saw your face..."
Or you might say, "It's a beautiful morning..."
And then she would sing, "Its a beautiful morning..."
You get the idea.

Today I have a Simon and Garfunkel song stuck in my head. Luckily, it is one of the happy ones. I keep hearing, "I'm on my way.... don't know where I'm going... I'm on way...Taking my time but I don't know where..."

Strange. At the same time, though, not so strange. Here I am, on the cusp of finishing 3 years of intense study, discernment and work as a seminarian, and I feel as if I am scratching the surface of what I need to know to work as a member of the Episcopal clergy. I am no expert or master of the divine. (I find that degree ironic in its implications. As if anyone could master divinity-- or would want to, for that matter). However, I am on my way. Being on my way feels good, too.

More than anything, I am struck how public ministry is a collaboration with God. The more I "work" to be "good" at this stuff relying simply on my own hutspah and drive, the more frustrated I get. The more I worry about the next job interview, the next day, or the next sermon I preach, the less I progress. However, the more I engage God with prayer, silence, remembering to breath in and out, praying centering prayer, and simply saying, at times, "your will be done..." (whatever that means), the more I seem to move along.

Am I worried about finding a job? Yes, I am. Do I want you to hire me as your priest? Definitely, I do. Do I need some source of income and a place to exercise my public, ordained ministry? I do indeed. However, the more I remember to continue "scratching the surface" in a life of collaboration with God, the further along I move "on my way."