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The Friday Letters
30 January 2009

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I’d like to draw your attention to two upcoming events that I’m very excited about and have put much time into this week. The first is pure fellowship and fun, the second a chance to participate in a different kind of Lenten worship.

One of my fondest fellowship memories of my first job was the Chili Cook Off. I didn’t really get it that first year and accidentally violated the anonymous voting policy by naming my chili, “Fr. Newland’s Hellfire and Brimstone Preachin’ Chili”. Somehow people figured out who made it. Eventually I learned and one year even won a prize for best presentation (I’d put my chili into a fondue pot I bought at Costco). The prize? A deluxe coffee table book by Martha Stewart (pre-incarceration).

A week from tomorrow we will inaugurate the CECoP edition of the Chili Cook Off, and I hope you’ll come and have fun with me if you’re free. I’ve recently sent out an e-mail recruiting Staff Officers to the event. So far we have a Master of Unceremonious Ceremonies (me), a Chief Scribe (Elsa Woodard), a Barkeep (Gary Chausee), and a Captain of Bottle Washers (Bill Woodard). Appointments went out for the Beautification Committee, Head of the Board of Elections, and Master of Electrification. I’ll announce those appointments once they’ve been confirmed.

On a more serious note, Christ Church will be offering a new service this Lenten Season. The Way of the Cross, often called the Stations of the Cross, is an ancient series of prayers originally practiced by pilgrims to Jerusalem. As it evolved it became associated with the Fridays of Lent, particularly Good Friday.

Stations is normally a procession, the worshipers walking from place to place to offer each series of prayers before a cross or depiction of the station’s event. Because our church has no side aisles and limited outdoor acreage, I’ve put together a ‘visual pilgrimage’ based on The Way of the Cross. Worshippers will remain seated in the pews during the service, while a series of images are projected to represent each station. The traditional prayers will accompany the images. If you’d like a preview of the visuals, you can visit monasteryicons and look at their Stations of the Cross set.

Jieun and I are working on music to accompany this service as well. Since I was handing out unpaid appointments for the Chili Cook Off anyways, I made her the unofficial Artist in Residence for our Creative Liturgy Department. We haven’t decided yet, but so far we’ve considered contemplative organ music, singing bells, and possibly tribal drums. I’ll get back to you on that.

The Way of the Cross: A Visual Pilgrimage through Fourteen Stations and their Icons will be offered Friday evenings at 7pm on March 6th, 13th, 20th, 27th, and April 3rd. It will likely be offered again on Good Friday at some time other than the scheduled liturgies at Noon and 7pm. You are invited to come to one or all of these worship opportunities as part of your Lenten fast this year.

Whether silly or serious, I am thankful to be looking forward to sharing these events with you all in the season to come.

Peace,

Ben.

Last year at this meeting I made a report of near epic length. Four thousand and five hundred words, according to my word processing software, very much in contrast to this morning’s concise scripture readings. In my own defense, there was much to say. It was my first annual meeting here, my first annual meeting as the guy in charge anywhere. I wanted to recap the highlights of how I got here to Christ Episcopal Church of Puyallup, and to tell you in depth what I thought I had found when I arrived.
This year’s report will be much shorter, not because I think any less of the chance to address the state of our parish in this way, but because I think we know each other so much better this year. At last year’s annual meeting I had not yet served a full year at this church. This year I am closer to two years than to one, and I have come to that comfortable place where I feel like I’ve only just arrived here, while at the same time it feels as if I’ve always been here.
Part of last year’s address that I would like to remember to you were my ideas on how we might spend our time over the year. I suggested three areas of focus that I wanted to see addressed. These were communications, long term financial planning, and liturgical excellence.
Many of the updates to our communications that I’d been hoping to see last year were in fact underway at the time. Those updates have largely reached maturity during the past year; I am very satisfied with how we talk to one another about the goings on of this place. Our two Friday e-mail offerings have come of age this past year. The eClarion is now the only Clarion, a change that makes office life easier and our communications more timely. Our website is up and more or less regularly updated. It isn’t the flashiest website out there, but it serves the purpose we need it to serve, while also offering folks who are thinking about visiting us plenty of material to begin to get to know us.
There is always room for improvement when it comes to communications, of course. The improvements I’d like to focus on this year are small ones. Communication between myself and individuals who lead ministries; communications between folks who have been at Christ Church forever and folks who’ve only just decided to join; and communication between and amongst all of the small gatherings of people who get together for one reason or another (be it ministry of sociality) in and around our parish. This is communication on the human scale. It is something we do pretty well, and something that merits continued effort.
In the area of financial planning I feel like we’ve made less progress this past year. This is partly my fault for not making it the priority I think it may need to be. On the other hand, I’m not a financial planner and I can’t do this myself. To be perfectly clear, my concerns are not with how we raise money, budget money, or even spend money on a yearly basis. The priority of financial planning is a long range one. We needed last year, and still need this year I think, a long term plan to accomplish goals and make our stewardship of this church a secure one.
During this past year one of the houses across the street came up for sale. It wasn’t the perfect house, the one right next to the church, but still, it was one of the few houses that border our landlocked structure. When it came up for sale, we weren’t ready to buy it. Now I’m saying that we absolutely should have bought it. Perhaps it is better to wait for the one next door. Still, we hardly had the conversation, and weren’t ready to move even if we’d wanted to. This needs to change. We need a plan for growing our property, whether that’s an aggressive plan or not, and we need the money in place to make that plan realistic. Next year it might be the house right next door that comes up for sale. If we want to have even a handful of parking spots for those least able to walk up to our doors, we need a concrete plan for how to make that happen.
The final area of focus I mentioned last year was liturgical. I’m not sure this focus area will ever go off my own personal priority list, if only because I see it as the primary piece of my job, and the primary function of a church. Unlike financial planning, I don’t put liturgical growth on the agenda of the annual meeting because I think we’d better do something specific or else we’re in trouble. I put liturgical growth on the agenda because it is the liturgy around which we gather, and the liturgy which tells our story, first to ourselves, and then to the world through us.
The most obvious change to our liturgical life is the retirement of our longtime organist Leslie Doerner. Leslie’s ministry here spanned many years and touched many people. In her last few months with us I sought to honor her contributions in different ways, and I know many of you did the same. Her presence with us is a part of the fabric of this place and will always be so.
As we move into the future of our music program we are presented with a challenge. We don’t have the money to replace Leslie. I don’t want this to sound like chastisement, because it isn’t intended that way. That the people of Christ Church have given more this year than last, despite an economic downturn, is a significant act of giving. Our budget continues to have just as much money in it for an organist as it has for years. The problem, is that that isn’t enough to hire an organist any more. The amount we had been paying Leslie is not enough to hire someone new.
The situation, though of concern, is not dire. We are gifted in this parish with many excellent volunteer musicians, and with our wonderful choir director Peter Herpst. Because we have Peter at the helm we can hire an organist or pianist to fill in for us each week without sacrificing a continuity of musical ministry. As of January first Peter is serving as de facto music director, choosing our hymns, psalms, and service music as well as the choral anthems. We can continue in this manner for quite some time, having in essence an interim period between organists much as there is often an interim period between priests.
Nevertheless, while not an emergency situation, we are going to have to come up with a long term plan for an organist, and the money to make it happen. I am interested in your thoughts, suggestions, and/or creative solutions as we make our way forward.
In conclusion, allow me to say that which I have attempted to say many times before. I love this place, and I love you. Christ Episcopal Church of Puyallup is the treasure hidden in the field of Jesus’ parable. We are small, but we are mighty. We have here what many, many churches spend years trying to be: we have real Christian community; we have real love for each other and for our world. Our call then is to be discovered. Like that treasure hidden in a field, like the pearl of great price, we must become found in order to become the kingdom of God that God is calling us to be.
Last Sunday you heard a sermon from an eighteen year old young man whose faith has been shaped by this place long before I came along to influence his career path. The Sunday before that you heard a sermon from a stranger who wanted you to give money to children on other continents. Both of these Sundays should tell you everything you need to know about who you are.
Kelly called me last week to report on how many sponsorships she’d gotten from our congregation during her visit. She started off by saying that her visit previous to us was to a large cathedral in a large city. She’d spoken to more than four hundred people that morning, and received twenty-one sponsorships. Two Sundays ago she spoke to less than one hundred and twenty of us, and received twenty-one sponsorships. That is the kind of people we are. May we always be such people, alive to the Gospel of Christ.
This is the Rector’s Report, for the Annual Meeting of Christ Episcopal Church of Puyallup, January 25th, 2009. AMEN.

A sermon by Benjamin J. Newland on the third Sunday of Epiphany
Jonah 3:1-5, 10
Psalm 62:6-14
1 Corinthians 7:29-31
Mark: 1:14-20
It is almost as if the lectionary were trying to tell us something this morning. All three lessons are so brief! Perhaps the third Sunday after Epiphany is intended to be set aside, in a liturgical context, for annual meetings squeezed between the early and late morning Eucharist. Whatever the reason, the message is clear: be brief! Be concise! Why spend four downs grinding the clock when you can just throw a hail Mary on first down for the big score? (Sorry, I should know better than to mix football metaphors with Holy Scripture by now.)
The passage from Jonah is seven sentences long. Paul, a master of the comma and adept wielder of the semi-colon, needs only two sentences this morning. Mark’s Gospel, often given without filler, is just six sentences this morning. The Psalm tops them all at nine sentences, but it’s a poem and that hardly counts.
So what do we get for our few sentences? What messages are we to absorb this morning via our brief exposure to sacred story? From Jonah comes the story of Nineveh’s change of heart. Nineveh belongs to a small and excellent group of scriptural entities that are able to hear the word of God’s prophets and then promptly act accordingly. King David did that once when Nathan confronted him about Bathsheba and her husband. The Book of Kings doesn’t specifically say, but we assume that this makes Nathan pretty happy; he’s delivered God’s chastising message to the most powerful man he knows and, not only survived the experience, but had that man agree with him. Jonah is not nearly so gracious a winner. Seven quick sentences isn’t enough for us to hear about how angry Jonah is that Nineveh did what God wanted. Even after his educational experience in the belly of the whale Jonah still wants the world to make sense to him, and not be the world God is calling it to be.
Paul knows that the world must become that which God is calling it to be, but he seems to be flailing around for a way to describe that which he can hardly imagine. He only uses two sentences, but in typical Pauline style one of those sentences is seventy-one words long and contains seven commas plus a semi-colon. All of this literary excess is directed towards trying to describe how immanent and different the world of God is. The best Paul can do is to say that it will be nothing like it is now, and so we should be nothing like we are now: the mourning as if they weren’t mourning, the rejoicing as if they weren’t rejoicing. To people who take human emotion seriously such profound reversals of feeling aren’t possible for us, which only reinforces how profound is God’s intervention in our lives if this world is to be brought about.
The Gospel passage’s six sentences could easily fit the theme of the day with only the first of them: “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’” With the retirement of John the Baptist from the field, Jesus wastes no time setting out his mission: right now, God is here, forget your previous life and embrace the new one God is making for you. Jesus then calls the first four of his disciples, a summary of quick action that serves to underline the immediate and abrupt nature of the message.
These three scriptural passages call us into the present moment that God holds for us. More than any other creature we human beings are able to look ahead towards the future and plan. More than any other creature we are able to look behind at the past and learn. This is a great strength. It can also be a great weakness, for more than any other creature we human beings are capable of ignoring the present—of being self-delusional about where we are now and what we are doing now.
All the world’s great spiritualities, our Christian tradition not the least, share this recommendation: be present in the present. Do not ignore the past or the future, for doing so would make us not-human. Still, find your home where you are; look for God in your current surroundings. According to Jesus, the kingdom of God is not far off in either time or space. To seek the kingdom of God requires only eyes to look, hands to work, and a heart to love that which is already around you. May it be so for us this day. AMEN.

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The Friday Letters
23 January 2009
Philip Brooks, Bishop and Preacher

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

On Sunday afternoon I packed up the (borrowed) car (thanks Henry & Janet!) with dog, sleeping bag, computer, and Legos, and made for Snoqualmie Pass. The happy confluence of Martin Luther King Day, the normal Monday off, and an extra day off for my Birthday, meant I didn’t need to be back until late Wednesday. I’d been trying to get over the mountains to visit my friend Brian since December. This week the weather finally cooperated.

Brian and his wife Jenny are expecting their first child in June. This makes Brian the first of my really close friends from childhood to reproduce. At first I was a little sad, temporarily mourning the lost freedom (perceived freedom anyways) of our  younger days. The feeling didn’t last, quickly overwhelmed by happiness that here is a new thing, a new way of being friends, a new life to be lived into. Brian will be an amazing father, if only because he is the most comfortable-in-his-own-skin person I know, and I’m looking forward to seeing that.

For this trip though, baby is still potential and not present, so we spent all day Tuesday conquering the Lego Indiana Jones video game (all levels complete, all secret characters unlocked, 4 billion Lego dollars collected) before turning to the non-video legos and brushing off some long unused skills (by the way, legos are much easier now than when you were a kid!).

The big advantage old friends have over new friends is history. Old friends remind you of who you are, or at least of who you were on your way to who you are now. They ground you, and make you remember, and somehow in doing that free you to be yourself again. In this way life is like legos: the bricks may have changed—new shapes, new colors, new expressions on the minifigures—but the process of building is the same.

Peace,

Ben.

A Sermon by Luke Owen on the Second Sunday after the Epiphany
1 Samuel 3:1-20
Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17
1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51
When I was reviewing the lectionary for this week I noticed a very common theme. Being Called. In the book of Samuel this morning we are told about Samuel’s calling into God’s ministry. The boy, Samuel, is bedded down in the temple with the ark of the covenant while Eli slept in another room. The boy hears a voice calling and three times arises and goes to Eli to ask what he wants. Meanwhile, we know that it is God calling the boy, but he does not. Even Eli does not understand what is happening right away. Eventually, however, Eli tells the boy to speak to the Lord. The lectionary reading ends at verse ten with Samuel doing as Eli told him.

In the Gospel of John this morning, we continue our epiphany theme, of Jesus’ revealing to the world, with Jesus calling his first disciples. In each year the Gospel of John is a brief interruption in the series of Epiphany gospel lessons that are otherwise taken from Matthew, Mark, or Luke. These synoptic gospel lessons are more well known and tend to be better stories, while John’s reflect on spiritual and mystical themes.

The difference is somewhat vast, but to their credit, these texts from John match up nicely with the theme of Epiphany. All three have something to do with the revelation of Jesus to Israel and the world. In year A, John the Baptist came in order that Jesus might be revealed to Israel. In year C, Jesus’ miracle at Cana revealed his glory and consequently, his disciples believed in him. As for our present text, in year B, we get a hint of the glory of Jesus, later to be revealed in the resurrection, when Nathaniel is told he will “see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man”. The Epiphany series is always an important framework for the Christian community. We start each year with the anticipation of God’s glory being revealed to us. We are shown each year that we have a wonderful God of greatness. Full of mercy, grace, and love.

The Epiphany gospel today highlights a new way of God’s calling us. Before Christ we had God calling with visions of angels and improbable signs of geological or ecological wonder. When Jesus Christ came into this world God had established a new way to connect to and to reveal his glory to us.

This common theme of ‘being called’ is sometimes such an amazing thing, when shown in the text, that we forget that we are each called by God, on whatever level, sooner or later. God has a mission for each of us in this world. We were created through God with a unique purpose for each of us. What that purpose might be is for us to ponder later on. First I want to focus on the psalm. Obviously the psalmist believes he has already received God’s call to ministry, and praises God, and thanks God for his great blessings. Hopefully this makes us stop and think and appreciate God all the more. Which leads us to want to know what our own call in God is.

Sometimes discerning God’s call is a strange and exasperating thing. In my own experience, I had begun thinking that God was calling me to the priesthood about this time last year. I am currently working toward finding my own path in God’s world. Being called to the clergy is, for most of us, the call we hear about the most. However, it is not just the priesthood that is called by God. There are several acts of kindness and charity that I could think of that highlight God’s glory in the world. Volunteering at a homeless shelter, going on a mission trip to a suffering country, helping at a soup kitchen, donating to charity, and simple community service are just a few examples of doing good in God’s world. God might very well be calling one of us right now. We must all listen for God’s call; there is one for each of us in this room, for each of us in this world.

As I was writing this sermon throughout this last week, I had been able to punch out what is previous, but had not been able to think of a way to end. My mind just sort of went blank every time I sat down to try and finish this sermon. Then I started thinking of what kind of question I might ask somebody who just heard the sermon. I know ending a sermon with a question isn’t really the most conventional way of doing things but its the best I could do. Just know that there is no right answer to the question, and each answer is unique.  So I will leave you with a question that you can ponder for how ever long you feel like: an important question that, when answered, might reveal a sense of purpose to each of us. My question to each of you is…what is God calling you to do?

-Amen

The Friday Letters
16 January 2009

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

The first sermon I ever delivered came during my first year at Seminary. By that time my family had moved away from my home town. I had flown back to catch up with friends over the Thanksgiving holiday and as I was in town anyways, the Rector of All Saints Episcopal Church thought it would be a good opportunity for me to start learning the craft of homiletics.

I remember the event clearly in certain ways and blurrily in others. I remember meeting with Fr. Chuck the week before to talk about how to get started. I remember being in the church that morning and not knowing what to do with myself between the 8am and 10am services. I remember making a big deal during the sermon about my flight into town, which had been on a Beachcraft B1000 light aircraft in heavy winds. I don’t remember anything about the scriptures for the day or what I said about them.

This Sunday Luke Owen will be taking preaching duties off my hands. With last Sunday’s visit from The Rev. Kelly Demo, this makes two weeks in a row I’m free of pulpit duties, so feel free to make jokes about me not working very hard; but please, be creative, as I’ve heard a lot of them already. More important than my laziness is Luke’s opportunity to begin sharing with you in public worship. As he begins the process of discerning a call to the priesthood, let me say for the first time (and not the last) that ordination is a two way street. Some of you will know this already having participated in Discernment Committees or on Vestries before. A home congregation plays a crucial nurturing and supporting role in “the process”.

Then again, much of that lies quietly in the future and can safely remain there until at least next week. For now, I invite you to be present at worship this Sunday and hear from Luke. While most preaching falls into the hands of ordained clergy, this is not a priestly sacrament. In fact, by virtue of our baptisms, each one of us has the first, most important, qualification to speak about God and Scripture. The rest of the qualifications come from prayer and study, action and reflection, undertakings that are available to us all.

Looking forward to this Sunday, and to worshiping with you all at CECoP.

Peace,

Ben.

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The Friday Letters
9 January 2009
Julia Chester Emry, Missionary

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

It has been a very busy and good week. After all the holidays and weather weirdnesses it was good to have a “regular” week of work in the office. The exception to that was Wednesday night’s flood scare and a group of friendly refugees that took shelter in our second floor flat; fortunately, this was just a practice exercise as it turned out.
The eClarion is long this week, but I recommend it to your  reading as there are a couple important opportunities I’d like you to not miss out on. Right now I’m particularly excited about the Chili Cook-Off I’ve got cooking up (get it?!) for February 7th. There are several opportunities associated with Bishop Rickel’s visit at the end of February, and some looking-ahead type of dates for the Lenten season.
I’ve mentioned before in several places that my friend The Rev. Kelly Demo will be with us this weekend. Her ministry of compassion for, and support of, some of the world’s poorest peoples is something I’m exited to be learning more about. It has also dovetailed nicely with my reading material for this week, a book titled, “Three Cups of Tea”.
Perhaps you’ve heard of this book? It’s about Greg Mortenson, a “climbing bum” who makes an attempt to climb K2 in central Asia and doesn’t quite make it all the way up. On the walk back down he gets lost, and wanders into a tiny village populated by people who are not even well-off enough to qualify as “poor”, but who provide him with gracious hospitality while he recovers. Struck by the sight of the village’s children squatting outdoors trying to learn alone in the absence of their 2 day per week teacher, Mortenson decides to build the village a school.
The rest of the story (and I’ve not finished it yet) is the tale of how this happens, and doesn’t happen, based on the conviction of this young man who is by American standards poor and homeless for all of the time it takes him to get the job done.
I recommend the book, though be careful with it. Reading a story like this makes me wonder why God has so much patience with my comparatively pitiful efforts to give and to care. I feel like I’ve received a performance evaluation (from a boss I really like) with some serious, “Do Better at This Now” kind of comments.
In whatever form God chooses to address us, may we always be open enough to hear, and convicted enough to act.

Peace,

Ben.