Learn From My Fail

“He replied, ‘Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.’” – Luke 14:35

     Important Lawn Safety Tip: If you forget you went to the hardware store and bought four huge bags of manure compost for your lawn and leave them in the trunk of your car for a day during 90° weather, the next day when you remember to take them out, driving your car will still be like driving inside a giant steaming manure pile for the next week or so. You will be unable to use your air conditioning and have to drive with all windows down just so your breath doesn’t catch in your throat. You will also find your friends doubled up on the floor in laughter as you explain why they can’t go together with you in your car for pizza. Final tip: Using almost an entire bottle of Febreze air freshener on the inside of said car will only change it from a steaming manure scent to a steaming, vaguely floral, manure scent.

Having a Tough Nevada Cowboy Mentality

“…he made a decree for the rain, and a way for the thunderbolt;” – Job 28:26

     Most of my free time today was spent working in my backyard repairing a part of my sprinkler system. Deep in mud and rock, I was finally getting to the end of it, when the wind picked up. I didn’t think much of it; I was determined to finish the job today. Dark clouds moved in. I stopped for some refreshing iced tea made of black tea leaves combined with mint. I took my first sip, and the power went out – I heard distant thunder. I figured the power would come back on eventually; I wasn't worried. You can always tell when a storm is coming because the wind carries the distinct warm smell of wet sagebrush. I figured I had a little time yet, so undeterred, I went back to work. It began to rain. Now, rain in the desert isn’t like rain elsewhere; it usually stops after a few minutes hardly dampening the ground. I was getting wet, but it actually felt good after the long hot day in the sun. Suddenly, the thunder was much closer, and the rain began to come down hard. Am I one to be scared by a little thunder and rain, even the occasional flash of lightning? Not me. I’m made of tough Nevadan desert with a cowboy mentality to match. At least I wasn’t afraid… until the hail began. I gathered up everything and ran for the house. Part of having a tough Nevada cowboy mentality is also knowing when to get out of the way before you get toasted like a cheap marshmallow by a stray bolt of lightning.

Our Father

      “He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray…’ ” Luke 11:1

     There are a lot of different lists floating around the Internet. There’s this website called 365 Reasons to be an Episcopalian. Anyone can contribute ideas. Although its goal was 365, they’re now up to 545 reasons on the list. Here are ten of my favorites:

1. Episcopalians find debating decisions on the rules a lot more fun and interesting than the rules themselves.
2. “Episcopal” is an anagram of “Pepsi Cola.”
3. We laugh a lot.
4. God is not a boy's name.
5. Episcopalians believe in moderation in all things, including moderation.
6. Preaching is a small part of an Episcopal worship service. Pulpit is to the side; the altar is at the center, and everyone is invited.
7. In the Episcopal Church, it's perfectly okay to kneel at the communion rail and marvel at the beauty and mystery of the Eucharist while wearing jeans and cowboy boots.
8. We don't expect clergy to have all the answers.
9. We don't claim an exclusive franchise on God.
10. From Garrison Keillor: You can "know you are an Episcopalian when you watch a Star Wars movie and they say, 'May then Force be with you,' and you respond, 'and also with you.'"

     I'm really good at making lists; it allows me to sleep at night, to let go of stuff since I know I won’t forget. Sometimes it also allows me to pretend I'm working on something: "Hey, it's on the list."

     What works great for to-do's or chores or groceries, however, is terrible when it comes to churches, or godliness, or just plain living. People always seem to end up making lists so they can tell who is in the group and who isn't. It’s easier to divide ourselves up into visible groups, based on shared experiences or outward similarities. Sometimes that's good. Certain groups need special attention or have special interests, like a grief support group, or the youth group, or a group for folks who've lost their jobs.

     A lot of times, though, it's not healthy. Sometimes those obvious, tangible dividing lines can be tempting as people try to discern which group deserves more respect or attention. Congregations often tend to divide into visible groups like male or female, young or old, married or not, Republican or Democrat, longtime member or newcomer, gay or straight, hipster or normie? (I just learned those last two words.)

     Our identity, says Paul, comes from the One who created us. In Colossians 2:9, 10 – (Speaking of Jesus) “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have come to fullness in him...”

     Too often the wrong issues unite us. It is so easy to get caught up in defending traditions or align and divide over silly arguments. The greatest arguments I have ever seen in the church have not been over whether we can help the poor, or if Christians should seek peace and an end to violence in our neighborhoods, or whether we should rejoice together when a baby is born, or mourn together when one of our own passes. No, we don't argue over these momentous things. Instead the greatest arguments and hurt feelings I have ever seen have been over silly stuff like the decision between carpeting or tile in the sanctuary. Then, if carpeting is decided on, the choice of the color of carpeting becomes the new battleground. Heaven help your church if the carpet is dirty and worn out, and yet was a memorial given on behalf of someone's great grandmother.

     In Colossians 2:11, 14, it says we have put off the flesh and the legal demands. The “legal demands” Paul speaks of is that way of thinking that if you keep a good enough laundry list it gets you into heaven. You know, like if you do the following things you're guaranteed heaven:

1. Never get angry
2. Give all your money away.
3. Become a monk.
4. Read at least one entire book of the Bible every day.
5. Never have a lustful thought.
6. Always listen attentively to the priest's sermon (and compliment him afterwards!)
7. Never cuss.
8. Never have doubts.
9. Attend every service the church offers. (Even though for a lot of people, going to church makes them a Christian like going to a garage makes you a car.)

     Why are we told not to make these kinds of lists? The simple answer is because they don’t work. Israel, as a nation, tried it over a period of a couple thousand years. It's why 92% of New Year's Resolutions Fail – 45% of them by the end of January.

     Jesus pointed to a different way. The disciples asked him to teach them how to pray. I doubt they had never prayed in their devout Jewish lives, but they could see something different about how Jesus prayed. They could see it was deeper, more intimate than they had ever seen or experienced. Jesus does not give them magic words or a list of things that are OK to say. Instead, Jesus teaches them about the nature of the One to whom they pray.

     When we gather today, we still pray, "Our Father...," but even when you pray this prayer in the privacy of your own home the words remain the same: "Our Father..." So, Jesus tells us about God, but also by saying "Our Father," we acknowledge who we are. By admitting God is my Father, I am saying I am a son of God. I know priests aren't supposed to admit this, but sometimes that's hard for me to understand. You don't get to be fifty-three years old like me without a lot of broken parts clanking around inside you. I'm aware of things that are my good traits. I'm aware I have strengths and talents – I'm not being falsely modest. But, oh God, am I also aware of my broken bits; times I've failed, stupid things I say, opportunities missed. I don't know about you, but I'm my own worst critic. Yet God doesn't just put up with me, God loves me unconditionally. When I unclench my fist that's holding onto all my shortcomings and just rest in God, faith allows me to believe again that I am a child of God.

     We don’t say "My Father," but "Our Father..." – everyone's father. He is the God of men and the God of women. He is the God of the old and the young. God is a Republican God and a Democratic God. He is the God of those who find life partners, and of those who live alone. He is the God of well-scrubbed Episcopalians, and the God of the homeless who often sleep on our doorstep. He is the God of straight people; He is the God of gay people. He is the God of people just like us, and also of people we don't like. They are equally children of God, equally destined to Christ's likeness.

     But then comes the most dangerous part of the entire Lord's prayer. I'm convinced if people knew what it meant, most of us would not pray it: “Thy kingdom come.” We're praying that this kingdom break out not just in Reno, not just in Nevada, not just in the United States, not just in the Western Hemisphere – we're also praying that the kingdom break out in our hearts. We are actually praying for a kingdom that is both boundless and without boundaries to be established, not just on earth, but in my own backyard.

     When we say, "Our Father..." we are asking that we will go beyond accepting that we are children of God and be translated into a world where we look up for once, and look outside ourselves and realize that others are equally children of God.

     That bleeding heart liberal you can't stand is equally a child of God;
     And so is that cranky conservative who you're convinced is still living in the 1950's;
     And so is that homeless guy who is dirty and smells funny;
     And so that person whose skin looks like mine;
     And so is that person whose skin is different;
     And so is that family that looks like mine;
     And so is that family that is configured completely differently from mine.;
     And so is that group that shares my religion;
     And so is that group whose religion is nothing like mine.

     Trying to live our lives by making long lists of all our shortcomings and the changes we're going to make just doesn't work. Trying to live our lives by making long lists of people who are in and people who are out doesn't work. Jesus teaches what works is to stop rushing around and beating ourselves and others up. What works is to recognize that I am a child of God. What works is to then recognize that others are equally children of God; equally destined to Christ's image.

     And when we drop all the rushing around and should's and shouldn't's and lists and just sit quietly in the presence of God in prayer recognizing who we are and who others are with the words, "Our Father...," then and only then, deep, tectonic shifts begin in our hearts. Then, the world begins to change. Then, the kingdom comes.

My Secret Vice

     Surreptitious, embarrassing, scandalous – all words that could describe the secret vice I engage in at least once a week, sometimes two or three times a week when I am stressed. Thank God, I don’t think any of my parishioners suspect.

     Yes, you guessed it: I like to look at LOL Cats on the Internet. I feel so much better just having said that out loud. There is so much stigma attached to this, that it has taken me years to be able to come out of the closet (or in that too cute broken English called LOL Cat Speak: “Come out ov teh closets”). I love cats and have two of my own – Garfield and Casey – who rule my household with firm yet gentle paws. It was an accident years ago that I stumbled upon the premier LOL Cat website I CAN HAS CHEESEBURGER. In no time, I was hooked.

     Today, I came across another website that will translate regular English into LOL Cat English. Perhaps Episcopalians’ dour reputation would be lightened up a bit if we translated some of our scriptures into LOL Cat English? Here are some well-known passages:

Furst dis: Gawd creatd teh heavens an earth - all u c, all u doan c.

Gawd, mah sheferd! I doan ned ting. He makez me lie down in de green grass; he leadz me beside still waters;u has beddd me down in lush meadows, u find me quiet pools 2 drink frum.

Noah an all his whole pplz boardd teh ship 2 escape teh floods. Clean an unclean animals (liek dawgs), birdz (yay!), an all teh crawlin creaturez came in pairs 2 Noah an 2 teh ship, jus as gawd had commandd Noah.

     Add a few pictures of cute cats, and we’ve got Gospel!

NOM Pastor Speaks Against Gay Marriage… um… I think.

     While I understand fear of change – everyone feels that sometime or another – I’ve never quite understood the overwhelming fear that somehow traditional marriage is threatened by recognizing there are others who wish to take their relationships seriously, make lifetime commitments, and celebrate with their loved ones and faith communities. Even harder to understand, is the denial of basic rights like hospital visitation, equal opportunity in employment, inheritance, and protection against discrimination also opposed by the National Organization for Marriage (by that, they mean straight marriage only.)

     NOM is currently touring the United States trying to spread their message of hatred and bigotry conservative religious values. At a recent rally, one anti-gay preacher got pretty worked up and began speaking in tongues. Really, his ranting would be enough to frighten decent gay people anywhere. I think he probably wanted to say that gays should not be allowed to get married and we are all going to H-E-double-hockey-sticks, but if this is really the Spirit at work, he may very well be saying something like, “This NOM tour is complete rubbish! Love is the only law that Christ would give!”

The Abstract Poor and Their Abstract Children

     “For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.” – Matthew 26:11

     Every week, Trinity Episcopal Church hands out between 300 and 450 sack lunches to the hungry and homeless in downtown Reno. We supplement that with fresh oranges congregants donate and day-old baked goods our local Starbucks gives us. In rotation with other downtown churches we host one or more homeless families every couple months.

     In Sparks, our neighboring city, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church feeds about a thousand families a month out of their food pantry.

     I am haunted by the faces that line up sometimes hours before our doors open. Jesus said we would always have the poor with us, but I’m not sure that is because we can’t eradicate poverty given the wealth of our nation, or if Jesus foresaw flawed humanity and imperfect human governments would never care enough to do so.

     I suspect the loudest voices in the political world who defend the wealthy and privileged of our country and reluctantly open their clenched fists to hand the poor even the smallest aid, have never really seen their faces. The poor are an abstract. You can’t feel compassion for an abstract. If an abstract is hungry, it’s hard to care about them or their abstract children. I invite them to spend time handing out lunches with us in Reno. Go to Sparks and pack the cardboard boxes and bags for the families, but be sure to hand them to the poor yourself. Volunteer at a local shelter or serve food at the downtown mission. See the faces. Look in their eyes. They will never be an abstract again.

Parishioner Carjacked and Beaten on Way to Church

     It has not yet made the national news, but we had a parishioner from our church carjacked coming down the Mt. Rose highway on her way to church last Sunday and brutally beaten. She was left unconscious and bleeding. We found out about it first because one of our priests drove past and saw the scene, and reported it when he arrived for the 7:45 AM service. A bit later, one of our vestry members was driving down the same road and saw it too. Luckily, after she had passed by, a member of the Hell's Angels motorcycle club was passing and saw her beaten and bleeding. He stopped and made a tourniquet from the greasy bandana he was wearing. Doctors later said that probably saved her life, stopping the blood loss. He got to St. Mary’s hospital in Reno and shockingly even paid two months of the bills in advance. The Hell’s Angels are holding a chopper rally next Friday in downtown Reno to raise funds to pay the rest of her hospital bills.

     OK, by now you've realized it's just a story, but maybe you feel a bit of the shock Jesus' audience felt when he talked about the good Samaritan (Although I’ve always wondered if the title of the story wouldn’t be better as “The Bad Priest”.)

     My adaptation is really not so far off. The highway down from Lake Tahoe to Reno is very similar to the one from Jerusalem down to Jericho. It is 36 miles from Incline Village at the Lake to Reno, and only 18 miles from Jerusalem down to Jericho, but it is about the same drop in elevation. So, we could easily say, it's half as far, but twice as steep. And as far as the Hell’s Angels goes… who would you least expect to come to your aid if you were the one lying in a ditch on the side of the road?

     We could be any of the people in this story. Every last one of us has been that person in the ditch. We are the victim on the road, robbed of our innocence. Some pass by us like the priest or the Levite. Even worse, some come along and give us one last kick to be sure we’re really bleeding by telling us things like, “You deserved it,” or, “It was your own stupid fault,” or, “You should help yourself,” or the worst lie of all, “You are not worthy of being loved or helped.”

     Sometimes, to my shame, I realize I have been the robber, beating and inflicting wounds on others… even those whom I love. Sometimes, at the best of times we are the Samaritan. We become the good Samaritan when we realize we don't come across those who are hurting and in need by chance. It is a divine appointment we are keeping.

     If we continue working on radical love – Jesus' kind, that saw no boundaries, no limits between people, then, there comes a time when we understand there are no Samaritans – or Jews, or priests, or conservatives, or liberals, or Whites, or Hispanics, or Blacks, or gays, or straights. There are only four kinds of people in the world:

• Those who attack and rob others
• Those who lie beaten and bleeding,
• Those who pass by, and…
• Those who hearts are touched with compassion.

     We are all bleeding to death, dying of the need of both treating and being treated the way people who are fully human – who see no boundaries to love – treat one another. Christianity is not so much about the individual "getting to heaven” – Jesus has promised we’re going to get there. In a very real sense, Christianity is mostly about how many of our fellow travelers we touch along the way.