ALL SAINTS CHURCH http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:46:45 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.7 en hourly 1 http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/10/02/4780888/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/10/02/4780888/#comments Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:46:45 +0000 Steve http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/?p=4780888 The psalmist urges God to teach us to number our days.  It’s easy to think of all the things we number or count.  As a child I can remember counting silver dollars, baseball cards, the money I made from mowing lawns, etc.  Each time I would carefully lay out my valuable assets, careful not to lose any or confuse any of the counted with the uncounted.  At the end of counting, I always had both a sense of accomplishment for what I had gained and a goal for what I still wanted to achieve.

At that time the idea of counting my days occurred on two occasions; “How many days left until vacation?” And, “How many days of vacation until school began again?”  In the act of counting I temporarily stepped outside of time.   I was no longer in school when I was counting the days and I am sure my teachers could attest to that!  And I was not on vacation when I was counting the days left.  It is as if we have the capacity to step outside of ourselves and outside of time in the act of making assessments.  As I become the observer, I no longer merely experience life, I reflect upon it by using my God given ability to use logic.

The word logic comes from the Greek word Logos.  In the beginning was the Word.  The Word is that ordering logic to life and the universe.  The Word is Wisdom. The Word is Timeless. The Word is God’s way, God’s Path.  The Word we are taught is God’s logic and God’s logic is manifest to us in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

To number our days is to begin to see and value our lives from the perspective of the Eternal Word, the Logic that undergirds the universe.  To number our days is to see ourselves the way God sees us.  It is looking backwards with appreciation and regret.  It is looking forward with either faith or fear.

After all we are created in the image of God, as such we have the Logos, the divine word, the divine logic within us.  It is no wonder we are people who learn how to count at an early age.  It is however incumbent upon us to take these God given skills and assess our lives.  We are called upon to learn how to value each and every moment, each and every experience and to make adjustments so that the remainder of our lives can more closely conform to our divine calling.

As we begin a new year in our church life, we are called to be religious.  Not merely by rote repetition.  We are not called to keep church going because we think it is the right thing to do.  We are called to this deeper task of understanding ourselves and from the perspective of the Eternal.  We are called to rediscover what it means to be created in the image of God, agents of love, forgiveness and healing.  Our liturgy and our life together is a sacred calling to manifest the Kingdom of God in this lifetime.

As your priest I call upon you to number your days; discover your life anew and to strive to have the mind of Christ within you.  All our work and play is designed to make the Word, come alive in our words, in our relationships and in our actions. Join in this sacred pilgrimage and drink from the well of eternal life.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/10/02/4780888/feed/ Holy Week 2009 http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/04/03/holy-week-2009/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/04/03/holy-week-2009/#comments Fri, 03 Apr 2009 14:42:52 +0000 Steve
In Holy Week, beginning with Palm Sunday: The Passion of our Lord, we become actors in a drama. Our liturgy is a work (liturgy means the work of the people) that helps to shape our minds and spirits to the mind and Spirit of the Christ.  It teaches us how to face our mortality and how to find life in the midst of death.  We enter Jerusalem with Jesus and recall the high expectations of the ages and also of our youth.  Soon we meet the rejection of our optimism as a manifestation of our human social condition.  We too reject the promise, we reject the hope and we choose expediency and conformity.

Palm Sunday encompasses this drama, and is followed by a commemoration of the other major events in the last week of Jesus’ life. His farewell meal with his disciples as he teaches the church that the way of life is the way of service (the foot washing) and love. Good Friday allows us to imaginatively suffer with Christ as we recall his passion and embrace our mortality. We come to understand the tragedy inherent in every human life as well as how human injustice is meted out to the innocent.  

Finally we celebrate Easter: The Feast of the Resurrection.  If one has not entered into the drama of the passion, Easter can ring a little hollow or saccharine.  But when we come to realize that death is answered by resurrection, we enter into the divine dialectical dialogue of transformation.  We come to understand that the way of the cross is the way of life and this is not just a drama that gets played out on the day we physically die, but is a constant drama that is designed to help us enter into the eternal mind of Christ.

Please join us and become actors in this work/dance/liturgy of the sacred mysteries.  Perhaps you can watch some of it on TV and you can read about it in books, but here you can be a player in the Sacred Drama, this Sunday and the rest of the week as listed in our schedule.
]]> This next week the Church celebrates Holy Week.  The marking off of space  from ordinary usage is at the heart of what we mean by being holy.  Of course one could argue that every week is holy and that God is always everywhere, but we know that this is more avoidance than a declaration of faith. Churches are designed to consecrate space and time in order to help people gain sight of the fact that although we live in this world, we in fact belong to another world.  This other world encompasses depth and meaning that cannot be found in ordinary time.  This other world is concerned with the eternal questions of life and death and the transformation of our souls.  This is not something we are likely to read in the Wall Street Journal.

In Holy Week, beginning with Palm Sunday: The Passion of our Lord, we become actors in a drama. Our liturgy is a work (liturgy means the work of the people) that helps to shape our minds and spirits to the mind and Spirit of the Christ.  It teaches us how to face our mortality and how to find life in the midst of death.  We enter Jerusalem with Jesus and recall the high expectations of the ages and also of our youth.  Soon we meet the rejection of our optimism as a manifestation of our human social condition.  We too reject the promise, we reject the hope and we choose expediency and conformity.

Palm Sunday encompasses this drama, and is followed by a commemoration of the other major events in the last week of Jesus’ life. His farewell meal with his disciples as he teaches the church that the way of life is the way of service (the foot washing) and love. Good Friday allows us to imaginatively suffer with Christ as we recall his passion and embrace our mortality. We come to understand the tragedy inherent in every human life as well as how human injustice is meted out to the innocent.  

Finally we celebrate Easter: The Feast of the Resurrection.  If one has not entered into the drama of the passion, Easter can ring a little hollow or saccharine.  But when we come to realize that death is answered by resurrection, we enter into the divine dialectical dialogue of transformation.  We come to understand that the way of the cross is the way of life and this is not just a drama that gets played out on the day we physically die, but is a constant drama that is designed to help us enter into the eternal mind of Christ.

Please join us and become actors in this work/dance/liturgy of the sacred mysteries.  Perhaps you can watch some of it on TV and you can read about it in books, but here you can be a player in the Sacred Drama, this Sunday and the rest of the week as listed in our schedule.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/04/03/holy-week-2009/feed/ Epiphany, 2009 http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/01/08/epiphany-2009/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/01/08/epiphany-2009/#comments Thu, 08 Jan 2009 10:42:32 +0000 Steve
Can you imagine if we celebrated this feast with the same fervor as Christmas? Schools would close; Banks would close; people would shop incessantly and prepare large meals. Children would be told all kinds of wondrous stories about when their parents were little and the three Kings came to their house. All over we would hear people talking solemnly about the “real meaning of Epiphany.” But let’s face it; our calendar is already pretty well set. Most holidays just have to learn to live with what they are. Perhaps the best Epiphany can hope for is an Oscar for best holiday in a supporting role.

Why is it that Epiphany doesn’t make the big time? I think it is because we are a culture and a religion that honors propositions over experience. We say in our Eucharistic liturgy, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. These are propositions, take ‘em or leave ‘em. What Epiphany speaks about is subjective, it is about awareness and expanded consciousness. I think we don’t know what to do with that. Propositions allow us to keep a distance and our life pretty much the way it is. Experience changes us!

We don’t know how to value experience, awareness or heightened consciousness. No one gets a raise for any of these things. They are not the stuff of textbooks or typical college curriculums. You certainly can’t put them on your resume.

Yet for all of God’s actions in creation and redemption, without our being conscious of them, without our subjective experience of these actions, all we have is a set of stories and morals to be learned by rote or ignored. It helps explain why people never claim a three-hour football game is too long, but a one-hour church service seems interminable.

Epiphany is about the wonderfully subjective experience of becoming aware of the grace and love that courses through every atom of creation. How we lost that awareness is a story unto itself, but the rediscovery of our real life and our place in the world is the magic of Epiphany. God is making God’s love manifest and people have to rearrange their lives around that awareness.
That God acts is a wonderful thing. But that action is incomplete until we receive that communication. Indeed, we are incomplete until we receive these truths and allow ourselves to be transformed by them.

So Happy Epiphany, May your eyes be truly open to see the light all around you and within you.

]]> Merry Epiphany!

Can you imagine if we celebrated this feast with the same fervor as Christmas? Schools would close; Banks would close; people would shop incessantly and prepare large meals. Children would be told all kinds of wondrous stories about when their parents were little and the three Kings came to their house. All over we would hear people talking solemnly about the “real meaning of Epiphany.” But let’s face it; our calendar is already pretty well set. Most holidays just have to learn to live with what they are. Perhaps the best Epiphany can hope for is an Oscar for best holiday in a supporting role.

Why is it that Epiphany doesn’t make the big time? I think it is because we are a culture and a religion that honors propositions over experience. We say in our Eucharistic liturgy, Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. These are propositions, take ‘em or leave ‘em. What Epiphany speaks about is subjective, it is about awareness and expanded consciousness. I think we don’t know what to do with that. Propositions allow us to keep a distance and our life pretty much the way it is. Experience changes us!

We don’t know how to value experience, awareness or heightened consciousness. No one gets a raise for any of these things. They are not the stuff of textbooks or typical college curriculums. You certainly can’t put them on your resume.

Yet for all of God’s actions in creation and redemption, without our being conscious of them, without our subjective experience of these actions, all we have is a set of stories and morals to be learned by rote or ignored. It helps explain why people never claim a three-hour football game is too long, but a one-hour church service seems interminable.

Epiphany is about the wonderfully subjective experience of becoming aware of the grace and love that courses through every atom of creation. How we lost that awareness is a story unto itself, but the rediscovery of our real life and our place in the world is the magic of Epiphany. God is making God’s love manifest and people have to rearrange their lives around that awareness.
That God acts is a wonderful thing. But that action is incomplete until we receive that communication. Indeed, we are incomplete until we receive these truths and allow ourselves to be transformed by them.

So Happy Epiphany, May your eyes be truly open to see the light all around you and within you.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2009/01/08/epiphany-2009/feed/ The Feast of St. Francis, 2008 http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/10/02/the-feast-of-st-francis-2008/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/10/02/the-feast-of-st-francis-2008/#comments Thu, 02 Oct 2008 17:33:58 +0000 Steve Dear Friends and Parishioners:

These past few weeks have witnessed events that seem out of our control and apparently out of everyone’s control.  Allegedly, there are some bad guys who will be brought to justice and according to our leaders, greed and selfishness are the “real reasons”.  While these downward forces swirl and unfurl, many of us feel a deep insecurity in our gut. “What will become of me?” is the central thought beneath our various manifestations of angst. Almost every day I receive an bromide in my email from a stockbroker that tells me, “Hang in there, it will all be OK in the long run.”
 
Time and again, if we live long enough, we find out that what we had thought to be solid and permanent has proven to be fluid and transitory.  How can appearances be so deceiving?  How can we so easily be conned?  Who would have thought the Soviet Union would fall so precipitously, or for that matter our own World Trade Centers?  With each failure we wonder, again, where can my family and I be safe?
It is likely most of us will find a way through. Somehow we will endure sleepless nights, recalculate our retirements, postpone vacations, eat-in more often, save leftovers, etc. etc. But we will know that forces beyond our control have altered our plans.  We will feel this profound insecurity shadowing our steps. We will know life is not in our hands, that is until we forget again.

In-days-gone-by, unexpected forces always threatened the wellbeing of people.  From droughts and famines, to rampaging armies, to very high infant and child mortality rates, people have always been reminded of the capricious rudeness of life.  When these forces have upset plans and reminded people of the fragility and uncertainty of life, people have struggled for deeper meaning.  It is from these deep disappointments that much of our scripture and wisdom arise.

Crisis can either destroy us or cause us to look deeper.  When the assumed verities of life are challenged, when we see that the wizard behind the curtain is only a frail old man, when we remember that we are “but dust and unto dust we will return,” we are ready to begin our spiritual journey. Instead of crumbling like our economy and so many other structures, those who answer the call use philosophy (wisdom) and theology (faith really) to find moorings and meaning beneath the prima facie manifestation of the world.  Suddenly the dope of this world; celebrity, sports and entertainment, pale in comparison to the bright light of finding our soul’s true purpose. When we begin our spiritual journey in earnest, we understand what St. Paul meant when he said “I count all things as loss for the surpassing worth of Christ.” We find ourselves in it but not of it.

In this time of uncertainty, instead of teeth grinding and finger crossing, I encourage you to pick up your cross and follow the One who chose to empty himself in order to bring life and love and healing to all.   The world is constantly giving us reminders and opportunities to begin the most amazing journey of discovery.  This journey will result in our gaining our souls as we work out our salvation in real community. ]]>
Dear Friends and Parishioners:

These past few weeks have witnessed events that seem out of our control and apparently out of everyone’s control.  Allegedly, there are some bad guys who will be brought to justice and according to our leaders, greed and selfishness are the “real reasons”.  While these downward forces swirl and unfurl, many of us feel a deep insecurity in our gut. “What will become of me?” is the central thought beneath our various manifestations of angst. Almost every day I receive an bromide in my email from a stockbroker that tells me, “Hang in there, it will all be OK in the long run.”
 
Time and again, if we live long enough, we find out that what we had thought to be solid and permanent has proven to be fluid and transitory.  How can appearances be so deceiving?  How can we so easily be conned?  Who would have thought the Soviet Union would fall so precipitously, or for that matter our own World Trade Centers?  With each failure we wonder, again, where can my family and I be safe?
It is likely most of us will find a way through. Somehow we will endure sleepless nights, recalculate our retirements, postpone vacations, eat-in more often, save leftovers, etc. etc. But we will know that forces beyond our control have altered our plans.  We will feel this profound insecurity shadowing our steps. We will know life is not in our hands, that is until we forget again.

In-days-gone-by, unexpected forces always threatened the wellbeing of people.  From droughts and famines, to rampaging armies, to very high infant and child mortality rates, people have always been reminded of the capricious rudeness of life.  When these forces have upset plans and reminded people of the fragility and uncertainty of life, people have struggled for deeper meaning.  It is from these deep disappointments that much of our scripture and wisdom arise.

Crisis can either destroy us or cause us to look deeper.  When the assumed verities of life are challenged, when we see that the wizard behind the curtain is only a frail old man, when we remember that we are “but dust and unto dust we will return,” we are ready to begin our spiritual journey. Instead of crumbling like our economy and so many other structures, those who answer the call use philosophy (wisdom) and theology (faith really) to find moorings and meaning beneath the prima facie manifestation of the world.  Suddenly the dope of this world; celebrity, sports and entertainment, pale in comparison to the bright light of finding our soul’s true purpose. When we begin our spiritual journey in earnest, we understand what St. Paul meant when he said “I count all things as loss for the surpassing worth of Christ.” We find ourselves in it but not of it.

In this time of uncertainty, instead of teeth grinding and finger crossing, I encourage you to pick up your cross and follow the One who chose to empty himself in order to bring life and love and healing to all.   The world is constantly giving us reminders and opportunities to begin the most amazing journey of discovery.  This journey will result in our gaining our souls as we work out our salvation in real community.
]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/10/02/the-feast-of-st-francis-2008/feed/ Does the Jesus you worship today look like the Jesus you worshipped many years ago? http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/09/05/does-the-jesus-you-worship-today-look-like-the-jesus-you-worshipped-many-years-ago/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/09/05/does-the-jesus-you-worship-today-look-like-the-jesus-you-worshipped-many-years-ago/#comments Fri, 05 Sep 2008 09:24:41 +0000 Steve
When I was younger, Jesus seemed to be more of a magical superhero figure that knew everything, could do everything and acted exactly as God wanted him to in all circumstances. Later the idea of symbolic action and communication became clear to me. Still later the idea of Jesus struggling with his humanity and his calling became appealing to me.  In each context there was something that I needed in my development that affected my hermeneutical stance or approach to the Gospels.  They don’t mean less to me, but more, because as I change and grow, my questions change and grow and the answers I find become newly relevant.

Lately, I have been thinking about how strong Jesus was as an individual.  I think in the past, I imagined that Jesus might have felt that his mere presence was enough to attract individuals.  Like the Episcopal Church, we know that we have a beautiful liturgy and that those who have eyes to see and ears to hear will appreciate what we are doing.  Like in the movie Field of Dreams, if we worship well, they will come.

Yet, now I am seeing in my readings all these instances, where Jesus approached people, challenged people and demanded that they dedicate their lives to something radically new and different.  Excuses were unacceptable, so too were partial commitments.  When people talked about needing to finish domestic business first, including a parent’s funeral, Jesus did not accept the delay in discipleship. Was this symbolic hyperbole? Perhaps, but it certainly illustrates a side of Jesus that was confident, urgent and insistent.  

We come from a church that says, “bring your questions” and “your doubts are OK”.  Perhaps as people walked along the road next to Jesus that was the ethic too.  But at a certain point, when the question intensified and became, “How do I make this real for myself?” Jesus’ response was bold and unwavering.

As the mainline church continues to give ground to secularism and fundamentalism, perhaps it is because we assumed too much and asked too little.  We like our truths to be self-evident, but at a certain point, Jesus calls each of us to say who he is.  As we say who he is, we are also saying a lot about who we are.  If we seek to do what Jesus did, i.e. make a difference in our world, we need to feel and act on the strength of our convictions.
]]> If one studies Christian art through the ages one is able to see a number of images of Jesus that in some ways emphasized one or another aspect of the biblical record.  The theologian and humanitarian Albert Schweitzer spoke about the search for the historical Jesus as people looking down a deep well and seeing their own reflection.  In other words he felt that it was impossible to really know the real Jesus. However incomplete our knowledge is, it is informed by faith, the tradition and the subjective questions our existence raises within us.

When I was younger, Jesus seemed to be more of a magical superhero figure that knew everything, could do everything and acted exactly as God wanted him to in all circumstances. Later the idea of symbolic action and communication became clear to me. Still later the idea of Jesus struggling with his humanity and his calling became appealing to me.  In each context there was something that I needed in my development that affected my hermeneutical stance or approach to the Gospels.  They don’t mean less to me, but more, because as I change and grow, my questions change and grow and the answers I find become newly relevant.

Lately, I have been thinking about how strong Jesus was as an individual.  I think in the past, I imagined that Jesus might have felt that his mere presence was enough to attract individuals.  Like the Episcopal Church, we know that we have a beautiful liturgy and that those who have eyes to see and ears to hear will appreciate what we are doing.  Like in the movie Field of Dreams, if we worship well, they will come.

Yet, now I am seeing in my readings all these instances, where Jesus approached people, challenged people and demanded that they dedicate their lives to something radically new and different.  Excuses were unacceptable, so too were partial commitments.  When people talked about needing to finish domestic business first, including a parent’s funeral, Jesus did not accept the delay in discipleship. Was this symbolic hyperbole? Perhaps, but it certainly illustrates a side of Jesus that was confident, urgent and insistent.  

We come from a church that says, “bring your questions” and “your doubts are OK”.  Perhaps as people walked along the road next to Jesus that was the ethic too.  But at a certain point, when the question intensified and became, “How do I make this real for myself?” Jesus’ response was bold and unwavering.

As the mainline church continues to give ground to secularism and fundamentalism, perhaps it is because we assumed too much and asked too little.  We like our truths to be self-evident, but at a certain point, Jesus calls each of us to say who he is.  As we say who he is, we are also saying a lot about who we are.  If we seek to do what Jesus did, i.e. make a difference in our world, we need to feel and act on the strength of our convictions.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/09/05/does-the-jesus-you-worship-today-look-like-the-jesus-you-worshipped-many-years-ago/feed/ Religion is a life and death business. http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/08/08/religion-is-a-life-and-death-business/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/08/08/religion-is-a-life-and-death-business/#comments Fri, 08 Aug 2008 11:15:31 +0000 Steve
Weddings, baptisms, funerals, all of these events are so large they are impossible to contain within our personal psyches. We need to seek the wisdom and the rites of the ages to help us place ourselves in the context of the eternal and sacred history. Each of these rites tells us that life is about change, growth and the meaning of our mortality.

In school we learn how to acquire and manage information. We learn about the struggles and heroes of society, we learn skills to earn a living and perhaps we learn about the arts. But the deepest aspects of human existence, the meaning of our birth, our death and the ways we change in between, are not learned in the classroom. One reason is because different people have different opinions about these things. But another reason is because these issues are neither science nor art. At the heart of our existence is mystery that can only be approached by faith.

By nature religion is concerned with these ultimate questions. Our life itself poses the question. Our religion contains clues and tools to help us approach the mystery. These clues and tools function only for those who are honest about the nature and the depth of the question. Our scriptures, sacraments and liturgies must be used with the greatest degree of respect and reverence. If not, they become academic subjects, like any other. Perhaps a better image is of museum exhibits, to be observed at some remove.

Most of us don’t live too close to the question or the mystery too often. But we run into the question, like it or not, every time we encounter change, e.g. births, weddings, deaths. Of course there are smaller events, more subtle yet perceptible to the sensitive, or as Jesus would say, to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Our lives are a journey of constant changes, deaths and rebirths that call for a spirituality to comprehend.

Our religion begins at the point of our “ultimate concern.” If we come with the honest question, posed to us by our existence, we will find in our church a sacred toolbox that is so nuanced and profound that it will excite the most passionate commitment to discovery.

Jesus exhorted us to seek the Kingdom of God first and that everything else would take care of itself. This summer, I encourage you to make this Kingdom your priority.
]]> The rites of the church symbolize this, as it is not unusual to go from baptizing an infant, to a funeral with a wedding or two in the mix, frequently within a matter of hours. Once while riding on a subway, obviously on my way to perform a wedding, I glanced at my watch nervously. The person riding next to me began to inquire about the wedding and she eventually asked me, “Is it an important wedding?” I immediately replied, “It is to them!”

Weddings, baptisms, funerals, all of these events are so large they are impossible to contain within our personal psyches. We need to seek the wisdom and the rites of the ages to help us place ourselves in the context of the eternal and sacred history. Each of these rites tells us that life is about change, growth and the meaning of our mortality.

In school we learn how to acquire and manage information. We learn about the struggles and heroes of society, we learn skills to earn a living and perhaps we learn about the arts. But the deepest aspects of human existence, the meaning of our birth, our death and the ways we change in between, are not learned in the classroom. One reason is because different people have different opinions about these things. But another reason is because these issues are neither science nor art. At the heart of our existence is mystery that can only be approached by faith.

By nature religion is concerned with these ultimate questions. Our life itself poses the question. Our religion contains clues and tools to help us approach the mystery. These clues and tools function only for those who are honest about the nature and the depth of the question. Our scriptures, sacraments and liturgies must be used with the greatest degree of respect and reverence. If not, they become academic subjects, like any other. Perhaps a better image is of museum exhibits, to be observed at some remove.

Most of us don’t live too close to the question or the mystery too often. But we run into the question, like it or not, every time we encounter change, e.g. births, weddings, deaths. Of course there are smaller events, more subtle yet perceptible to the sensitive, or as Jesus would say, to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Our lives are a journey of constant changes, deaths and rebirths that call for a spirituality to comprehend.

Our religion begins at the point of our “ultimate concern.” If we come with the honest question, posed to us by our existence, we will find in our church a sacred toolbox that is so nuanced and profound that it will excite the most passionate commitment to discovery.

Jesus exhorted us to seek the Kingdom of God first and that everything else would take care of itself. This summer, I encourage you to make this Kingdom your priority.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/08/08/religion-is-a-life-and-death-business/feed/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/07/09/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/07/09/#comments Wed, 09 Jul 2008 11:41:31 +0000 Steve Dear Friends and Parishioners,

Another Fourth of July and our country is poised between hope and fear. Fear looks like a tumbling stock market and soaring fuel prices. Hope is found in an election between one person who rose from the hell of war and another who rose from the deep discrimination that has divided our nation for most of its history. One can imagine people in cafés and water coolers focusing on either phenomena with all the attendant emotion that surrounds each.

Where do your eyes go in these moments of transition? Do you see things as winding down or as an opportunity for transformation and transcendence? Do you imagine diminishing resources, declining health and increasing challenges as signals of doom or do you see some power that is urging and agitating for the advent of something new?

In reality we are always poised between hope and fear. We are always on the precipice of the future, gazing over the edge with anxiety or expectation. The difference is where our faith is to be found. With faith that the Reign of God is constantly breaking in, we might identify with St. Paul’s idea that even as our body declines the inner person is being made stronger by the grace of God.

Jesus tells us not to be anxious, but is this possible? I believe it is only possible when we are able to apprehend a deeper plan than that which meets the eye. It is only when we live with faith that life becomes a journey towards wholeness and reunion with God. It is only when the eternal promises become activated in our consciousness that we understand change is necessary in order to realize these promises. Even death is not to be feared (the message of the resurrection). From the perspective of faith we have the opportunity to experience the eternal, that which transcends our mortal existence.

So we have a choice, faith or fear. With faith we eagerly look for signs of change, images of transformation and intimations of immortality. With faith we wake up in the morning wondering how we can help others participate in this kingdom of hope and love. With fear, we seek escape, we succumb to cynicism and suffer the fate of a self fulfilling prophesy of doom.

This Independence Day, I call you to make yourselves independent of anxiety by embracing faith. Not just a faith in the doctrines of the church, but a profound existential faith that teaches you how to live with the power to love and the strength to heal a rapidly changing world. With faith every day is Independence Day, independence from the oppression of fear.

]]> Dear Friends and Parishioners,

Another Fourth of July and our country is poised between hope and fear. Fear looks like a tumbling stock market and soaring fuel prices. Hope is found in an election between one person who rose from the hell of war and another who rose from the deep discrimination that has divided our nation for most of its history. One can imagine people in cafés and water coolers focusing on either phenomena with all the attendant emotion that surrounds each.

Where do your eyes go in these moments of transition? Do you see things as winding down or as an opportunity for transformation and transcendence? Do you imagine diminishing resources, declining health and increasing challenges as signals of doom or do you see some power that is urging and agitating for the advent of something new?

In reality we are always poised between hope and fear. We are always on the precipice of the future, gazing over the edge with anxiety or expectation. The difference is where our faith is to be found. With faith that the Reign of God is constantly breaking in, we might identify with St. Paul’s idea that even as our body declines the inner person is being made stronger by the grace of God.

Jesus tells us not to be anxious, but is this possible? I believe it is only possible when we are able to apprehend a deeper plan than that which meets the eye. It is only when we live with faith that life becomes a journey towards wholeness and reunion with God. It is only when the eternal promises become activated in our consciousness that we understand change is necessary in order to realize these promises. Even death is not to be feared (the message of the resurrection). From the perspective of faith we have the opportunity to experience the eternal, that which transcends our mortal existence.

So we have a choice, faith or fear. With faith we eagerly look for signs of change, images of transformation and intimations of immortality. With faith we wake up in the morning wondering how we can help others participate in this kingdom of hope and love. With fear, we seek escape, we succumb to cynicism and suffer the fate of a self fulfilling prophesy of doom.

This Independence Day, I call you to make yourselves independent of anxiety by embracing faith. Not just a faith in the doctrines of the church, but a profound existential faith that teaches you how to live with the power to love and the strength to heal a rapidly changing world. With faith every day is Independence Day, independence from the oppression of fear.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/07/09/feed/ Viewer Discretion Advised http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/05/14/viewer-discretion-advised/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/05/14/viewer-discretion-advised/#comments Wed, 14 May 2008 11:21:31 +0000 Steve As I return to All Saints I can report that I have had a renewed experience of life.  For one to have a renewed experience, one must first come to realize the end of a previous life.  There is no resurrection without first enduring a crucifixion, no Easter without Good Friday.
 
I left on Epiphany and am returning this Sunday of Pentecost.  My epiphany was that I needed to step out of my role as Rector long enough that I might hope to once again find that inspiration that originally led me into ordained ministry. My return on The Feast Day of Pentecost bespeaks the new spirit that has been breathed into me.
 
In my time in Paris and India, I was able to step out of learned and patterned behaviors long enough to see how I had become identified with unproductive ways of thinking that were inhibiting my life and ministry. Apprehension had replaced joy and obligation had replaced freedom. In short I realized that despite lots good things, I was running on memories of joy more than the experience of joy.
 
One day I found myself in the Picasso Museum in Le Marais, not far from my apartment.  Somewhere there I heard or read that Picasso said, “I don’t seek, I find.” Of course this was full of hubris and maybe other things. But it led me to consider that for a long time we have been encouraging seekers and the joy of seeking etc.  What I was interested in at this point in my life was not only seeking but finding.
 
While I was away, I gradually came to once again know and feel that God is good indeed, once you allow yourself to let go of yourself.  Words from scripture and our liturgy came to life with new force and meaning. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!  I may have died in Christ but now was being made alive in Christ.  While I was still far off and dead in my trespasses, God came and sought me. I count all that is past as loss for the surpassing worth of Christ. Though this body might suffer decay, my inner life was being made more and more alive. Again and again I would say to myself, “Aha, that’s what it means.”
 
The high point for me was Easter Day.  On Saturday night I went to the Vigil at the American Cathedral in Paris. It was basically the same as our liturgy here, except we sing better and their pipe organ is more dramatic.  The sermon was fine and I thought “OK, that’s nice.” But the next morning I went to St. Gervais-et-St. Protais, (indications are that there has been a church there since the 4th century). It was there that I stood with some four thousand worshippers, (many of them kneeling while others still were lying prostrate before the altar) in a scene that I can only describe as a glimpse of heaven on earth.  As incense rose, nuns and brothers made sure everyone was personally greeted with the peace of Christ. Then at least six priests sang and concelebrated the mass in unison. If I had never heard of  Christianity or the Church I would have still known we were witnessing the sacred being made manifest in this world and I was seeing it with my own eyes.  My friend said to me afterwards that I looked radiant. And indeed I felt the power of the resurrection in every fiber of my being.  I poetically mused about Moses radiantly descending Mt. Sinai and Jesus walking down the Mount of Transfiguration as I crossed the Seine.
 
There is much more to report and share. We have a lot of catching up to do. I come to you feeling renewed. I look forward to hearing your stories and sharing our life journeys with each other. I pray that my experience will be the start of a new ministry here and that we will together experience a new spirit of God’s joy and compassion.  I pray that we will follow Jesus in loving one another as he loves us and that love will be our gospel to share with the community at large.
 
I am happy to be back. Back here at All Saints and back to that place where faith, hope and love abide.  I look forward to seeing you this Pentecost Sunday and in the weeks and months to come as we find renewal together.
 
]]> As I return to All Saints I can report that I have had a renewed experience of life.  For one to have a renewed experience, one must first come to realize the end of a previous life.  There is no resurrection without first enduring a crucifixion, no Easter without Good Friday.
 
I left on Epiphany and am returning this Sunday of Pentecost.  My epiphany was that I needed to step out of my role as Rector long enough that I might hope to once again find that inspiration that originally led me into ordained ministry. My return on The Feast Day of Pentecost bespeaks the new spirit that has been breathed into me.
 
In my time in Paris and India, I was able to step out of learned and patterned behaviors long enough to see how I had become identified with unproductive ways of thinking that were inhibiting my life and ministry. Apprehension had replaced joy and obligation had replaced freedom. In short I realized that despite lots good things, I was running on memories of joy more than the experience of joy.
 
One day I found myself in the Picasso Museum in Le Marais, not far from my apartment.  Somewhere there I heard or read that Picasso said, “I don’t seek, I find.” Of course this was full of hubris and maybe other things. But it led me to consider that for a long time we have been encouraging seekers and the joy of seeking etc.  What I was interested in at this point in my life was not only seeking but finding.
 
While I was away, I gradually came to once again know and feel that God is good indeed, once you allow yourself to let go of yourself.  Words from scripture and our liturgy came to life with new force and meaning. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!  I may have died in Christ but now was being made alive in Christ.  While I was still far off and dead in my trespasses, God came and sought me. I count all that is past as loss for the surpassing worth of Christ. Though this body might suffer decay, my inner life was being made more and more alive. Again and again I would say to myself, “Aha, that’s what it means.”
 
The high point for me was Easter Day.  On Saturday night I went to the Vigil at the American Cathedral in Paris. It was basically the same as our liturgy here, except we sing better and their pipe organ is more dramatic.  The sermon was fine and I thought “OK, that’s nice.” But the next morning I went to St. Gervais-et-St. Protais, (indications are that there has been a church there since the 4th century). It was there that I stood with some four thousand worshippers, (many of them kneeling while others still were lying prostrate before the altar) in a scene that I can only describe as a glimpse of heaven on earth.  As incense rose, nuns and brothers made sure everyone was personally greeted with the peace of Christ. Then at least six priests sang and concelebrated the mass in unison. If I had never heard of  Christianity or the Church I would have still known we were witnessing the sacred being made manifest in this world and I was seeing it with my own eyes.  My friend said to me afterwards that I looked radiant. And indeed I felt the power of the resurrection in every fiber of my being.  I poetically mused about Moses radiantly descending Mt. Sinai and Jesus walking down the Mount of Transfiguration as I crossed the Seine.
 
There is much more to report and share. We have a lot of catching up to do. I come to you feeling renewed. I look forward to hearing your stories and sharing our life journeys with each other. I pray that my experience will be the start of a new ministry here and that we will together experience a new spirit of God’s joy and compassion.  I pray that we will follow Jesus in loving one another as he loves us and that love will be our gospel to share with the community at large.
 
I am happy to be back. Back here at All Saints and back to that place where faith, hope and love abide.  I look forward to seeing you this Pentecost Sunday and in the weeks and months to come as we find renewal together.
 
]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/05/14/viewer-discretion-advised/feed/ Off to see the Wizard! http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/01/04/off-to-see-the-wizard/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/01/04/off-to-see-the-wizard/#comments Fri, 04 Jan 2008 09:59:44 +0000 Steve
Beyond coming and going, the biblical story is really more a story of coming and going and returning again.  It is as if God takes the thread that is our existence and weaves it in and out in a dialectic that becomes the rich tapestry of our own salvation history.  Perhaps one could speak of many Advents and Ascensions, or of the progressive story of Christmas followed by Good Friday and subsequently Easter; a holy cycle of being, never static but marked by change and renewal.

It seems that the entire church year is concerned with the sanctifying effects of the coming and going and coming again of the divine into the profane. Advent anticipates and Christmas celebrates the coming of Jesus. Epiphany bespeaks the recognition of the incarnation.  Lent concludes with the Holy Week observance of the end of Jesus’ life and Easter celebrates his return from the grave.  The Feast of the Ascension commemorates the resurrected Jesus’ departure from the earth and Pentecost celebrates the coming of the Holy Spirit.  To finish the year, Pentecost ends with the anticipation of the second coming of Christ the King.  

So it is with thoughts of going and returning that I address you.  As most of you know, I begin a four-month sabbatical beginning next week.  Besides thinking about 257 details to divert my attention before my departure, I have also thought about the role of the shaman in various cultures.  One of the tasks of the shaman is to separate himself from the community and descend to the realms of the dead or spirit world, in order to attain healing wisdom to bring back to the people.  In some ways I think this is an appropriate metaphor for the priest on sabbatical; a holy separation for the health of the community.

In order to be a healing or redemptive presence in the community, the priest, as spiritual leader, needs to step away from the community to commune with and drink deeply from the realm of the spirit.  Out of time, out of pocket, out of the quotidian demands of ordinary life, the clergy exercise their consecrated ability to re-explore and re-experience the divine.  To the outside observer, it may look self-indulgent.  But those who are familiar with the biblical record know that even Jesus frequently ‘went missing’ in order to have time alone, to commune with his God.   Abraham expressed his faith by following God’s leading into parts unknown.  It is faith that opens our lives to the ever-new experience of God’s transformative leading.  

So, yes, I am going. This Sunday, January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany, will be my last Sunday until May at All Saints. I have been so encouraged by the responses I have received from many people in and near the congregation.  Calls and letters of support and encouragement have come from unexpected places.  Sometimes, others see the need before you see it yourself.  Other times your actions cause people to think about what is important in their own lives.  In any case, things are changing.  Already I can feel a difference.  As I prepare to leave, I feel there is a renewed spirit in the congregation.  In the past few weeks several new people have expressed interest in joining our parish.  The faithful have stepped up to take on more responsibility and a sense of our potential feels more and more palpable.  

It is with optimism that I hand the parish over to the able leadership of Bishop Richard Grein for these four months.  He is a brilliant teacher and a compassionate pastor.  He has met with Alexei and Kent and there already seems to be intuitive sense of teamwork and understanding among them.  In all the details and serendipity of preparation, it feels like God is preparing both All Saints and me for four months of growth and discovery.  We should both expect change and welcome growth.  I expect to commune with that Presence that called me to the priesthood and I expect that you will find a deeper appreciation for the joys of being Christ’s body here in this place.  

Yes, I am going. But whether I am here or there, I know nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.  I hope to see you this Sunday and again upon my return.  I expect to discover again that there is no place like home; a home marked by hospitality for the sojourner, support for the seeker, advocacy for the forgotten and transformation for the faithful.
]]> I think it was Dorothy Gayle in the Wizard of Oz who uttered in amazement, “Oh my, people come and go so quickly around here.”  Even as children we are fascinated with the constant entrances and exits people make in the drama of our lives.  Some bring great joy and some bring deep consternation.  How do we appropriate and hold people’s images in our minds and how do we let go of them?  I think the answers to these questions hold the secrets of our character.

Beyond coming and going, the biblical story is really more a story of coming and going and returning again.  It is as if God takes the thread that is our existence and weaves it in and out in a dialectic that becomes the rich tapestry of our own salvation history.  Perhaps one could speak of many Advents and Ascensions, or of the progressive story of Christmas followed by Good Friday and subsequently Easter; a holy cycle of being, never static but marked by change and renewal.

It seems that the entire church year is concerned with the sanctifying effects of the coming and going and coming again of the divine into the profane. Advent anticipates and Christmas celebrates the coming of Jesus. Epiphany bespeaks the recognition of the incarnation.  Lent concludes with the Holy Week observance of the end of Jesus’ life and Easter celebrates his return from the grave.  The Feast of the Ascension commemorates the resurrected Jesus’ departure from the earth and Pentecost celebrates the coming of the Holy Spirit.  To finish the year, Pentecost ends with the anticipation of the second coming of Christ the King.  

So it is with thoughts of going and returning that I address you.  As most of you know, I begin a four-month sabbatical beginning next week.  Besides thinking about 257 details to divert my attention before my departure, I have also thought about the role of the shaman in various cultures.  One of the tasks of the shaman is to separate himself from the community and descend to the realms of the dead or spirit world, in order to attain healing wisdom to bring back to the people.  In some ways I think this is an appropriate metaphor for the priest on sabbatical; a holy separation for the health of the community.

In order to be a healing or redemptive presence in the community, the priest, as spiritual leader, needs to step away from the community to commune with and drink deeply from the realm of the spirit.  Out of time, out of pocket, out of the quotidian demands of ordinary life, the clergy exercise their consecrated ability to re-explore and re-experience the divine.  To the outside observer, it may look self-indulgent.  But those who are familiar with the biblical record know that even Jesus frequently ‘went missing’ in order to have time alone, to commune with his God.   Abraham expressed his faith by following God’s leading into parts unknown.  It is faith that opens our lives to the ever-new experience of God’s transformative leading.  

So, yes, I am going. This Sunday, January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany, will be my last Sunday until May at All Saints. I have been so encouraged by the responses I have received from many people in and near the congregation.  Calls and letters of support and encouragement have come from unexpected places.  Sometimes, others see the need before you see it yourself.  Other times your actions cause people to think about what is important in their own lives.  In any case, things are changing.  Already I can feel a difference.  As I prepare to leave, I feel there is a renewed spirit in the congregation.  In the past few weeks several new people have expressed interest in joining our parish.  The faithful have stepped up to take on more responsibility and a sense of our potential feels more and more palpable.  

It is with optimism that I hand the parish over to the able leadership of Bishop Richard Grein for these four months.  He is a brilliant teacher and a compassionate pastor.  He has met with Alexei and Kent and there already seems to be intuitive sense of teamwork and understanding among them.  In all the details and serendipity of preparation, it feels like God is preparing both All Saints and me for four months of growth and discovery.  We should both expect change and welcome growth.  I expect to commune with that Presence that called me to the priesthood and I expect that you will find a deeper appreciation for the joys of being Christ’s body here in this place.  

Yes, I am going. But whether I am here or there, I know nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.  I hope to see you this Sunday and again upon my return.  I expect to discover again that there is no place like home; a home marked by hospitality for the sojourner, support for the seeker, advocacy for the forgotten and transformation for the faithful.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2008/01/04/off-to-see-the-wizard/feed/ A Meditation on Time and Identity http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2007/11/09/a-meditation-on-time-and-identity/ http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2007/11/09/a-meditation-on-time-and-identity/#comments Fri, 09 Nov 2007 11:49:58 +0000 Steve Last week on All Saints Day I awoke, to put it delicately, with some abdominal distress. Thinking about a couple friends who were told they had had heart attacks without knowing it, I decided to do the responsible thing and call my doctor. Instead of a quick office visit and hoping to hear, ‘not to worry,’ he told me, on the phone, it was necessary to go to the emergency room to check everything out.

What I expected to be a tedious, but endurable visit to the hospital turned into a 13-hour exercise in waiting. During this time I watched the clock roll around and around and realized I would miss our All Saints Day celebration. I was disappointed to realize that the faithful would be gathering without me. I knew there was going to be a dinner as part of the Eucharist in the crossing of the church and that my friend, The Reverend Andy Mullins would be leading a period of sharing and meditation as a response to the scripture lesson. Life was passing me by.

As a simple visit to the doctor's office, this visit was an eternity. Yet as a visit to the hospital it was a nanosecond, barely worth mentioning. Like our lives, time is always able to be viewed from two perspectives. When you wait for someone to pull out of a parking place, a minute can seem like an eternity. When you say goodbye to a loved one at a funeral, 40 years can seem like a minute. We have the capacity to see things from the immediate or from the eternal. We have the same capacity to see ourselves.

While I was in the waiting room, I was not the Rector of All Saints Church, star of stage and screen and legend in my own mind! I was another name waiting with the sick and the needy, waiting passively for someone to help me. When I was finally issued a bed in an open hall, I saw a busy medical staff walk by me time and again like I was invisible. It was not like a restaurant where attentive waiters always ask you, "Is everything is alright?" The staff was busy and there was little time for those small social gestures that remind you of your worth. My blue hospital gown helped insure my new identity, or lack thereof. I may not have been an outcast, but I was certainly not in power.

While I was virtually anonymous and invisible to the powerful people of the hospital the Other visited me. I was visited by the perspective of what it must be like to be a minority in our culture. I was visited by a perspective on how life must be like for the poor and the needy. I was able to become a keen observer of habit and character. I watched as I saw the social network of the hospital define the lives and activities of its employees. I was impressed by their professionalism and wondered about their souls. I had a lot of time to look and think, maybe the same way Jesus looked at the busy lives of the rich and poor of his time and derive insights. I thought of how Jesus saw the way people chose seats of honor at public gatherings and how he saw the persistent widow pound on the door of the misanthropic judge late at night. It's not that I had messianic delusions (they didn't give me anything that strong!), but I could see how stepping out of the ordinary allows one time to see things in a different light. Maybe one can actually begin to see from the perspective of the eternal rather than from the quotidian.

I also saw those parishioners who came to see me in a different light. They were not just parishioners. They were angels who came to tell me that in spite of my sudden lack of status and health, I was God's beloved, in whom both God and they were well pleased. This is a message I may know academically, but I felt it, experientially, as I lay on that stark hospital bed. I know better now how important even a phone call or a pat on the shoulder is in time of need. To the world, I was just another case, to my community of faith, I was family.

I am very grateful to the hospital staff. They really were responsible, professional and selfless in their attention to the needs of all of us in that room. I would guess that they saved a couple lives in the time I was there with my, less than serious, condition. I am thankful for the perspective that this "time out of time" granted me. I am thankful for the visits, phone calls and words of comfort from the saints of All Saints.

As we move into the fall season of Thanksgiving and Stewardship, I pray that we will all have a chance to step outside the ordinary. Not by a visit to the hospital, but by separating ourselves into that extraordinary space ofprayer, worship, meditation and reflection. I pray that we all come to see each other and ourselves differently, even as God sees us and loves us. I pray that we will come to know that our difficult times are there to teachus and form us and that all time is in God's hands. As the Psalmist writes, "Teach us, O Lord, to number our days." For in that numbering comes a knowing. I came in to heal my body; I left with my soul restored. ]]> Last week on All Saints Day I awoke, to put it delicately, with some abdominal distress. Thinking about a couple friends who were told they had had heart attacks without knowing it, I decided to do the responsible thing and call my doctor. Instead of a quick office visit and hoping to hear, ‘not to worry,’ he told me, on the phone, it was necessary to go to the emergency room to check everything out.



What I expected to be a tedious, but endurable visit to the hospital turned into a 13-hour exercise in waiting. During this time I watched the clock roll around and around and realized I would miss our All Saints Day celebration. I was disappointed to realize that the faithful would be gathering without me. I knew there was going to be a dinner as part of the Eucharist in the crossing of the church and that my friend, The Reverend Andy Mullins would be leading a period of sharing and meditation as a response to the scripture lesson. Life was passing me by.



As a simple visit to the doctor’s office, this visit was an eternity. Yet as a visit to the hospital it was a nanosecond, barely worth mentioning. Like our lives, time is always able to be viewed from two perspectives. When you wait for someone to pull out of a parking place, a minute can seem like an eternity. When you say goodbye to a loved one at a funeral, 40 years can seem like a minute. We have the capacity to see things from the immediate or from the eternal. We have the same capacity to see ourselves.



While I was in the waiting room, I was not the Rector of All Saints Church, star of stage and screen and legend in my own mind! I was another name waiting with the sick and the needy, waiting passively for someone to help me. When I was finally issued a bed in an open hall, I saw a busy medical staff walk by me time and again like I was invisible. It was not like a restaurant where attentive waiters always ask you, “Is everything is alright?” The staff was busy and there was little time for those small social gestures that remind you of your worth. My blue hospital gown helped insure my new identity, or lack thereof. I may not have been an outcast, but I was certainly not in power.



While I was virtually anonymous and invisible to the powerful people of the hospital the Other visited me. I was visited by the perspective of what it must be like to be a minority in our culture. I was visited by a perspective on how life must be like for the poor and the needy. I was able to become a keen observer of habit and character. I watched as I saw the social network of the hospital define the lives and activities of its employees. I was impressed by their professionalism and wondered about their souls. I had a lot of time to look and think, maybe the same way Jesus looked at the busy lives of the rich and poor of his time and derive insights. I thought of how Jesus saw the way people chose seats of honor at public gatherings and how he saw the persistent widow pound on the door of the misanthropic judge late at night. It’s not that I had messianic delusions (they didn’t give me anything that strong!), but I could see how stepping out of the ordinary allows one time to see things in a different light. Maybe one can actually begin to see from the perspective of the eternal rather than from the quotidian.



I also saw those parishioners who came to see me in a different light. They were not just parishioners. They were angels who came to tell me that in spite of my sudden lack of status and health, I was God’s beloved, in whom both God and they were well pleased. This is a message I may know academically, but I felt it, experientially, as I lay on that stark hospital bed. I know better now how important even a phone call or a pat on the shoulder is in time of need. To the world, I was just another case, to my community of faith, I was family.

I am very grateful to the hospital staff. They really were responsible, professional and selfless in their attention to the needs of all of us in that room. I would guess that they saved a couple lives in the time I was there with my, less than serious, condition. I am thankful for the perspective that this “time out of time” granted me. I am thankful for the visits, phone calls and words of comfort from the saints of All Saints.



As we move into the fall season of Thanksgiving and Stewardship, I pray that we will all have a chance to step outside the ordinary. Not by a visit to the hospital, but by separating ourselves into that extraordinary space ofprayer, worship, meditation and reflection. I pray that we all come to see each other and ourselves differently, even as God sees us and loves us. I pray that we will come to know that our difficult times are there to teachus and form us and that all time is in God’s hands. As the Psalmist writes, “Teach us, O Lord, to number our days.” For in that numbering comes a knowing. I came in to heal my body; I left with my soul restored.

]]> http://allsaintsnyc.blog.com/2007/11/09/a-meditation-on-time-and-identity/feed/