Risk Rap

Rapping About a World at Risk

Restoration

My heart aches each year as we approach Columbus Day because it marks the anniversary of the death of  a young man who my family and I deeply loved.  The young man’s parents are long standing and very close family friends.  We went to college together when their son was born.  He was the first child of our inner group and we witnessed and experienced the arc of his life from cradle to grave.  So it is together in sadness that we share the arrival of this unfortunate day.

When we are confronted with the death of our children we are compelled to search for reasons. In earnest we ask questions and adamantly seek answers from a seemingly remote God whose silence leaves us feeling abandoned and confused. We throw up our arms and shake our fists at an ambivalent cosmos that stares us down with an infinite blackness that mirrors the condition of our soul and the depth of our pain. Anniversaries bring us back to the terrible moment when we learned of our beloved’s passing and all the feelings of dread, violation and terrible pain of that moment are relived again.

I remember coming home on that terrible day. I was standing by the sliding glass doors looking out on a beautiful autumn day.  My wife was not home and I asked my daughter where she was.  My daughter answered that my wife went to Aunt Sharon’s house and at that very moment the phone rang. It was my wife who in a stream of tears delivered the news of our young friend’s death. I collapsed onto a seat that was fortunately open at my side. It was as if an invisible locomotive knocked the wind and an ability to stand right out of me.

This death was not the first family member or close friend of mine to have died but it was one of the most painful.  Our friend’s vitality, his exuberant youthfulness, quixotic smile and potent life force were central to his identity and qualities that made us feel that his living presence would always surround us. When that life was quelled we are shaken by the realization that youthfulness is not an immutable truth that protects anyone from death.

The next year two days after Christmas my nephew passed away after a lifelong battle against Leukemia. My nephew was only 16 at the time of his passing, but God and his family filled his life with the knowledge that he was deeply loved.  My nephew fought the disease courageously and faithfully since he was 5 years old. During his life he had three major occurrences of the disease and after the third occurrence the Lord saw fit to call his beloved son home.

My nephew’s parents relied heavily on their faith to carry them through his sicknesses and implored God to heal their son. They prayed incessantly and faithfully to have the Lord restore their son’s health. It was not to be.

We question what purpose is served by the death of children and how could a benevolent God fail to answer our fervent prayers and allow this to happen? Those left behind remain haunted by our loved ones painful absence. We question our ability and effectiveness as parents and the meaning and necessity of a continued walk in the graceful light of God’s sure and abundant love that seemingly has abandoned us.

I believe our best response to these terrible instances of life is to continue a practice of a prayerful and sacramental life. There are many types of prayers. We petition the Beneficent One for things, we ask for guidance and strength, we give thanks, we ask for insights, clarity of thought, peace for the soul, restoration, revelation, protection and help for loved ones, and hope for the sight to perceive the daily grace that abundantly lights the pathways of our daily lives.

If prayer articulates our intentions and desires a sacramental life communicates that intention with firm action by binding devote love in response to the needs and human frailty of others. This connection helps fill the vacuous void left by the death of beloved family members and friends. It is the way we affirm the living power of unconditional love and anoint ourselves and others with the restorative balm of God’s sure presence during times of devastating tragedy, keen want, pointed vulnerability and consuming fear. The presence of The Deliverer is the outstretched hand, listening ear and kind heart open and ready to give and accept love. This sacramental dance nurtures us, uplifts others and keeps the memory our dearly departed close and ever fresh in our minds and hearts. It empowers us to live and feel the love that we hold in our hearts for our children that have passed. It emboldens our spirit. It brings to life the vitality of our children that have gone before us and allows the gift of their life to be a life force and real presence in the life of others.

If we continue to ask God for something and it is not given we need to assess the larger context of our desires and gain a deeper understanding of what it takes to achieve them. Maybe its time to create new life strategies and seek to discover new pathways to live out our life’s calling. Perhaps God is telling us it is time to begin to explore other solutions to our problems.

I think that is what God may be telling us when our children cross the River Jordan. Blessed with an understanding that our life must now be lived in a different context we become open to the possibilities and “newness of life” that Jesus Christ promises. The Good Shepard promises an abundant life. I pray that all God’s children may enjoy that promise of abundance by generously sharing it with others.

For all the dearly departed and those who remain.

Peace and Prayers

You Tube Music Video: Stevie Wonder, Ribbon in the Sky

Risk: restoration, recovery,wellness, faith

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October 8, 2010 Posted by | death, faith, life, love, service | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Brother Sun, Sister Moon

Today is The Feast of St. Francis.  St. Francis is known to many and venerated by some because of his ministry that sought to balance a profound personal spirituality with a universal connectedness to the natural world.  At its heart, St. Francis faith honored the divinity of all life.  He  sought a human experience that embraced a practice of stewardship as an expression of gratitude to protect and honor our sacred connection to nature.  St. Francis is know for an honest humility and a deep respect for all of God’s creatures as his way of practicing a sacramental life.  St. Francis’ prayer, Brother Sun, Sister Moon is a wonderful example of  his humility and deep gratitude for the vast and interdependent universe of which humans are but a small part.  We honor St. Francis on his feast day and give thanks for his life and blessed example.

Most High, all-powerful, all-good Lord,

All praise is Yours, all glory, all honour and all blessings.

To you alone, Most High, do they belong,

and no mortal lips are worthy to pronounce Your Name.

Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures,
especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who is the day through whom You give us light.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendor,
Of You Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,
In the heavens you have made them bright, precious and fair.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods,
by which You cherish all that You have made.

Praised be You my Lord through Sister Water,
So useful, humble, precious and pure.

Praised be You my Lord through Brother Fire,
through whom You light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.

Praised be You my Lord through our Sister,
Mother Earth
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with colored flowers and herbs.

Praise be You my Lord through those who grant pardon for love of You and bear sickness and trial.

Blessed are those who endure in peace, By You Most High, they will be crowned.

Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Death,
from whom no-one living can escape.

Woe to those who die in mortal sin!

Blessed are they She finds doing Your Will.

No second death can do them harm.

Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks,
And serve Him with great humility.

You Tube Music Video:

Dionne Warwick: What the World Needs Now

Marvin Gaye:  Mercy Mercy Me

Pete Seeger: Where Have the Flowers Gone?

Risk: nature, stewardship, sustainability, respect

October 3, 2010 Posted by | culture, ecological, environment, faith, holiday, life, love, prayer, religion, Spirituality | , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Giving Thanks

We give thanks for all who have enriched our lives with their presence;

may we honor them by always being present for others.

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We give thanks for those who selflessly serve in our armed forces,

for the quiet sacrifices of their family and friends

and for those who witness for peace and work to end the conflicts of war.

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We are thankful for the tears of the poor

and their example of fortitude in the daily struggle to live

and for those that extend a handkerchief

and offer a vision of hope and a pathway to advancement.

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We are thankful for our rich abundance

and the blessed spirit that leads us to generously share it with others.

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We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers

and students that are eager to use that wisdom to better the world.

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We are thankful for courageous truth tellers

and the hard truths they speak

and to people of good will that are open

and willing to listen and act on those truths.

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We are thankful for the care givers

and their veneration of  life

and to those who receive care

and fill the heart of the giver with fathomless gratitude.

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We are thankful for people of humility and good will

and their blessed example of quiet service and grace.

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We are thankful for children as an embodiment of our hopes

and the future flowering of our greatest aspirations.

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We are thankful for our animal friends

and their example of trusted companionship

and unconditional love.

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We are thankful for sobriety

and our ability to discern, see, discover

and experience the daily graces life confers upon us.

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We are thankful for those who are no longer with us,

may our time on earth be a blessing to others as they were to us.

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We are thankful to a higher power that keeps us right sized,

humble and grateful for one more day on life’s path.

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Wishing All the Beloved a Grace Filled Happy Thanksgiving

Peace and Prayers

***

You Tube Music Video:

Shirley Horn, Here’s To Life

November 25, 2009 Posted by | holiday, love, seasons | , , | 1 Comment

To Build a Fire

bonfireOne of the best short stories I read during grammar school was Jack London’s “To Build a Fire”.  The story recounts the struggle of a Yukon prospector hiking through the wilderness in sub-zero cold.  The unnamed prospector falls through a thin layer of ice covering a spring fed pool of water.  Though he was wet only up to his knees if he failed to dry his boots and socks, hypothermia  would quickly overcome him.  Frost bitten feet in sub-zero temperatures would cripple the prospector making it impossible for him to continue his journey to the warmth and safety of a lodge just a few miles away.  If the prospector was unable to continue he would freeze to death.  His only chance was to build a fire so he could dry his socks and boots before he could resume his journey.  To build a fire was the difference between life and death.

I was reminded of this story this past weekend while participating in a Matt Talbot Retreat.  Matt Talbot is a non-denominational spiritual wellness movement for people in recovery.  It advocates the practice of The Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous as a suggested program of recovery.  Matt Talbot is a blessing for many people experiencing the grace of recovery.  AA teaches us that alcoholism is a disease and that alcoholics and addicts suffer a sickness that afflicts our mind, body and spirit.  The Matt Talbot Movement places an emphasis on the spiritual dimensions of our disease.  We attend seminars and meetings.  We enjoy fellowship with our brothers in recovery. We make new friends with others suffering from a common malady and we reconnect with other Matt Talbot brothers we have not seen since our last retreat.  The biannual retreat is a special weekend that allows us to nourish and recharge the spiritual batteries that become so dangerously low by the emotional and mental demands of modern life.  For many of us, Matt Talbot is a critical cornerstone of our recovery program.  It is a critical tool that helps us to free ourselves from the spiritual bondage of addiction.  It encourages us to draw closer to our Higher Power; thereby moving us further away from the emotional and mental shackles that threaten to enslave us.

On Saturday evening after the days sessions and nonstop witnessing and ministering to one another about our personal journey of recovery, many of the brothers assemble on the banks of the Hudson River for a traditional Saturday night bonfire.   On this moonless night the huge bonfire provided a striking contrast to the black woods that enveloped us.  Like our hopes for continued recovery, the dancing flames soared into the night air expressing a sincere yearning to touch the massive hardwood boughs that towered above us.  We closed in on the fire remaining transfixed by the unbounded flames and the fleeting shadows of ghostly apparitions that seemed to hover then flee the burning light. We were a band of wounded brothers drawn to a lamp of hope that we desperately needed  to navigate the uncertain dangers posed by the swift dark waters of addiction.

At the bonfire we are encouraged to choose a log to place in the the fire.  But before we can burn that log we must stand before our brothers and make a statement about a resentment, misgiving or fear that threatens our recovery.  As we say in AA,  holding onto a resentment will lead you back to a drink.   Naming our fears and resentments is our first step toward conquering them.   The brothers spoke of the ugly compulsions that drive our addictions; revealing painful truths about low self esteem, victimization, unbridled anger, tragic circumstance, sexual and emotional abuse, violence, poverty and ignorance and other issues that  led to unfathomable depths of guilt and shame.  As alcoholics and addicts we let these things have power over us and in so doing we feed our alcoholic and addictive behaviors.  Standing within a circle of trusted brothers, divulging secrets that have long held our soul captive and conferring bitter resentments and raging fears onto a log truly liberates the soul.  It is a critical step in the recovery process and spiritual wellness.   The giant bonfire is a life affirming tool that allows us to cast out these powerful demons, condemn them to death by fire and happily witness their power over us dissipate as they burn away into a pile of harmless ashes.

In Jack London’s story after the prospector fell through the ice he quickly moved to build a fire.  He moved under the protection of a tree, found some dry leaves and small wood chips and started a fire.  He was relieved that the fire caught and grew but a wind kicked up and blew snow off a pine tree and crushed his fire under a pile of snow.  It was a unfortunate event that would cost the prospector his life.  As the prospector began to accept his sad fate he remembered the advise of an old timer who warned him about traveling through the Yukon.  “Never travel alone”  said the old timer.  As the prospector lay freezing to death, he realized the hard truth of the old timers wisdom.

When it was my turn to cast a log into the raging bonfire I recounted a telephone call I received that morning.  A person from my home group with 40 years of blessed sobriety called to tell me about the death of a fellow alcoholic.  This fellow was in and out of the AA program for many years.  He was found dead in the bathroom of a boarding house in which he lived.  He was about 40, has a daughter in college, recently lost his mother and his job.  He went out a couple of months ago and was just coming back into the program.  He landed at the hospital, they told him his liver had high levels of enzymes and that he needed to stop drinking.  The past few weeks I was taking him around to meetings.   He was a Christian, loved to play guitar and was a gentle man who cared about his daughter and deeply loved her.

The 23rd Psalm says that God’s rod and staff comforts us.  I grabbed a stick that was worthy of Moses  to throw on the fire.  This disease needlessly claims too many souls but there is an easier softer way.  I wanted to convey to the brothers and to remind myself that God is always a near and present help during time of adversity.   We never have to go it alone.  That the fire of faith is freely available to all.  It is up to us however to draw near to the flame and to tender a burning desire of recovery for it to take hold in our lives.  Recovery is truly a matter of life and death.  I offered my thanks that God has never abandoned me to the ravages of my disease.  I remain grateful to be counted among the present here this evening still able to draw near to a fire to keep the hope of my recovery burning bright.  I blessed the soul of the fallen friend that the disease had claimed.  I also prayed that the brothers present by the fire this evening will be counted among the living at the next bonfire.  I placed my stick on the fire.  It burned a long time.

Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord has dawned upon you.
For behold, darkness covers the land;
deep gloom enshrouds the peoples.
But over you the Lord will rise,
and his glory will appear upon you.
Nations will stream to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawning

Isaiah 60:1-3

You Tube Music Video: Jose Feliciano, Light My Fire

Risk: alcoholism, recovery, spirituality, death

October 20, 2009 Posted by | Bible, faith, heal, life, love, psychology, religion | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

A Lasting Sanctuary: 911 Remembered

Corkscrew_Swamp_SanctuaryEight years ago today,  I was running down Wall Street fleeing a protoplasmic cloud that I believed was intent on claiming my life.  Fortunately as it was about to overcome me a revolving door of a Charles Schwab office offered me an escape portal from the deadly billows of powered cement, asbestos and other matter emulsified by the collapsing South Tower of the World Trade Center.

I was fortunate to have access to a sanctuary of  safety and ready escape.  The brokerage office was filled with confused, terrified and wounded people.  All consumed in a maelstrom of an iconoclastic force that at the time laid beyond our understanding or comprehension.  The hysteria in the room was balanced by the command of resolve summoned by the afflicted to survive and a compassion that recognized our shared humanity and common plight.  Most responded with a spirit of action that held out a hand to help those in distress.  It was heartening to witness such a selfless demonstration of empathy and commitment to others.  It was how we escaped and survived the terrible fate that too many suffered on that infamous day.

On this day as I sit watching family members read the names of those lost at the World Trade Center,  I am moved by the endless tears they shed for the dearly departed.  The aggrieved wear shirts with images of the fallen.   They hold photos of people captured in the light of the victims finest day.  Children wear medals and the caps of fallen fire fighters.  I  marvel at the depth of their love and wonder how they will find a portal of escape and a lasting sanctuary from the deep wounds and loss afflicted upon them that day?

We all need to discover and walk through a portal of escape to a sanctuary of restoration.  As a nation we desperately need  to heal the seemingly fathomless wounds of loss we all so keenly feel as a result of 911.  A sanctuary is a place of transcendence.  It is a place where the faithful can meet the divine and are in turn transfigured by the miracle of grace.  We must prepare ourselves to enter the sanctuary.  We need to find a place where this national nightmare can be laid to rest on an alter in God’s sanctuary.  God hears our cries for justice.  God understands the depths of the dark places in our hearts that scream and wail from the deep wounds of loss suffered.  God’s justice holds out a hope that we become fully restored from the deep loss we experienced.  God’s wisdom  requires us to shed our sense of victimization so as we can realize our restoration.

The events on 911 has deeply transfigured our nation.  We have sacrificed civil liberties, entered two wars and raised fear, xenophobia and the pursuit of righteous vengeance to a national obsession.   Vengeance is a bitter bread to feast on.  The wisdom of the Bible instructs that vengeance is the province of the Lord.   We must prepare to enter the sanctuary by practicing peace.  It is the best way to honor the loss of our beloved brothers and sisters and it is the only way this terrible wound will ever heal.   Together we can eat the bread of peace and drink from the chalice that promises to heal and restore that which has been lost.

Rest in peace beloved.  I offer prayers of restoration and healing to those who lost loved ones.

Loping Wolf:  Christo Redentor

Risk:  war, restoration, peace, faith

September 11, 2009 Posted by | 9/11, Bible, culture, faith, family, life, love, politics, psychology, religion, war | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Suicide of a Friend

mounts_bay_sunrise_2This is one of those mornings in our lives when we welcome a rising sun with grim dread. This is one of those mornings where we become loosed from our moorings of certainty. This is one of those mornings where words fail and the throne of faith is overthrown by shame and guilt. This is a morning to put on a nice suit and proper tie to attend a funeral of a friend who died by suicide. So final. So silent doth the dead speak to us. Crying out their pain with a clarity we never heard or understood as they walked among us here on earth. My friend continues to speak to us from the beyond.

This man was more then a friend. He was a father, husband, brother and a son. He held many occupations, enjoyed diversions, displayed passions and imperfections like all human beings. He was also a child of God. Though tormented and sick he was never forsaken. He deeply loved many and was unconditionally loved by many. In the end an addled brain led to a desperate alienation. Self medicating himself to find sanctuary in the hollow solace of prescription drugs and booze. It would in the end consume him. Enabling him to close the door on a life that family and friends diligently tried to keep ajar. All we wanted in return was his continued presence among us. My friend choose to slam the door shut.

Anger rises. We put so much into him. How could he slap us in the face like this? As we gathered about his coffin, in hushed whispers we sought out information, confirmation and consolation to alleviate a sense of guilt and quiet the shame that enveloped us. The deceased’s mother, shaking with Parkinson’s disease, stares down at a bare coffin holding the remains of her son. How much did she invest in this boy? She suckled him at her breast. She mothered him under her roof for two decades. She continued to mother him with a pervasive love that continued till the end. Did the child squander this love? Has this mother loved wastefully? I see no anger in her. Only a continued extension of her abundant love. “Sleep well my child. I’ll soon join you.” I could hear her coo silently to herself as she softly touched the burnished wood of her child’s casket. Any anger was mine, certainly not hers.

My friend’s sisters were his loving attendants to the end. They were heroic in a desperate attempt to save their beloved brother. They gave him refuge under their roof. They nursed him within the sanctuary of family. One may think that their deeds of heroism now matter little or count for less. But such shamelessly squandered love is what our hurting world needs more of today. I marvel and cherish their example, as I witness one sister arrange an errant ribbon on the cluster of roses sitting atop the casket. A loving touch, a caring hand, an attending heart remembered to bring their brothers beloved Boston Red Sox cap also placed on the casket.

My friend’s daughters and former wife arrived to the service late. One daughter entered the crowded room nestling flowers. She moved quickly toward her father’s casket. Her expression was like that of a child racing toward a Christmas tree on the blessed morning. Did Santa come? Is it really here? Has this thing arrived? Her breakdown into tears confirmed her worst suspicion. A terrible expectation realized. Her father was really dead. Now laying in state in a room full of awkward people. The other daughter fraught with grief remains in the protective arms of her loving aunt. She sobs into the woman’s bosom. Tears saturate her blouse. Women absorb the pain and transform it into strength and a curious wisdom that remembers how to endure future pains to come.

How do you approach the daughters of the deceased? What can you say that has any meaning to them during the nadir of their young lives? How do you expect them to understand the sincerity of your pain when theirs is fathomless? You fear for them. Has the actions of their father bound them to a lifetime quest to seek answers to questions that cannot be answered, motives that cannot be understood, truths that will remain forever hidden?

The grace of my friend’s former wife was sorely tested. She is devastated to discover her ex husbands casket on display at the front of a crowded room. She sobbed, embracing and kissing many as she made her way toward the casket. Her painful separation from my friend after 27 years of marriage was difficult for her but was a consequence of her husbands spiral of decline. She loved him greatly and it was greatly returned to her by my friend. College sweethearts, they joined together in a youthful promise to love and endure all things as one. I pray she isn’t consumed by the demons of nostalgia and fall into a black hole of guilt. I don’t think that will be. She is a spiritually centered, emotionally healthy woman. She does yoga. Her next life chapters are waiting to be written.

On the day they were married I wore a new gray suit and tie to the affair. During the cocktail party a man played musical glasses. It was a bit quixotic and it stamped their union as something that was uniquely blessed. I liked it very much. I also liked the open bar. I got sloshed. As I would continue to do until I got sober 27 years later.

My friend knew of my sobriety and participation within AA. I asked him to join me at a meeting one week before he died. He left a message on my cell phone. He said he was going off to rehab to start the process of recovery. He said he would call me when he got out. He left the rehab after one day because of insufficient insurance coverage, checked into a hotel room and killed himself.

When I entered the room for the funeral service my friends crying sister met me with an embrace. Her tears stained a new tie I chose for this service. She thanked me for trying to help her brother. She said that her brother called her on the terrible day asking for a slip of paper that had telephone numbers of important people. I was number two on that list. I shudder and ask myself, for the want of a phone call?

As I left the service I stopped by to wonder at a small aviary of tiny exotic birds that was in the lobby. The multicolored birds were nesting and gleefully chattering at the roil of life. They flitted among hanging flowers of verdant vines of ivy. They were beautiful. Seeing such beauty is one of life’s simple affirmations.  My friend is now winging home.

Vaya Con Dios Amigo

You Tube Video: JS Bach Badinerie Wine Glass Music

You Tube Video: Vaughn Williams, Lark Ascending

August 15, 2009 Posted by | children, culture, faith, family, life, love, psychology, religion, seasons | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Oasis: Let the Circle Be Unbroken

I stand at the door and knock

I stand at the door and knock

On May 30th my wife and I were blessed to attend “Let the Circle Be Unbroken”; a Festival Eucharist celebrating the 20th Anniversary of The Oasis. The Oasis, a sanctuary ministry for the LGBT community took form and was founded by the humble and holy saints of the tiny but mighty in spirit All Saints Episcopal Church in Hoboken, New Jersey. Two decades ago, as the AIDS epidemic continued to cast a pall over the gay community and the World Health Organization still considered homosexuality a disease, All Saints realized the crying need for a ministry of inclusion for the LGBT community. The foresight of their loving witness of a radical hospitality of inclusiveness and joyous celebration of diversity; still stands as a blessed light to an LGBT community that continues to be excluded, attacked and oppressed by religious bodies, governmental decrees and cultural practices throughout the world.

The Sermon was delivered by Bishop Shelby Spong. Bishop Spong was instrumental in the formation of The Oasis ministry. He has long been an advocate of reform in the church by ordaining women, Gay and Lesbian priests and for his theological writings on scripture and his apologetics of a Christianity that transcends the limited bounds of fundamentalism.

I expected that Bishop Spong would exhort the gathered to continue the fight against the denial of full equality for LGBT people. I feared the forces of reaction were gathering following the California Supreme Court action to uphold the legality of Proposition 8 that prohibits same sex marriage. This judicial affirmation seemed to energize momentum for a movement intent on withholding a basic civil right to LGBT people. But true to his nature as an optimistic contrarian, Bishop Spong exhorted service celebrants to “claim the victory” in LGBT civil rights. He refused to empower the forces of reaction instead acknowledging the ascendancy of enlightenment and change during the twenty years of the The Oasis ministry.

Bishop Spong began his homily stating “by the time a cultural or institutional injustice is debated in public, its power is waning”. He recounted the struggle and process to ordain the first openly gay priest, the late Rev. Rob Williams who was instrumental in the formation and establishment of The Oasis Ministry. Spong reasoned, religious orders throughout history were rife with homosexual clergy. Yet homophobic public pronouncements condemning the practice were vehemently upheld with a theology interpreted through narrow lenses of biblical certainty. Bishop Spong noted that the ordination of an openly gay priest was an indication that the church was finally becoming honest with itself by acknowledging that homosexuality has long had a presence within the church.

Institutional transformation is not easy nor painless. Prophetic leaders that effect change by standing on plainly evident truths more often then not find dishonor in their homeland. Bishop Spong went on to explain how this ordination led to his censure by the Episcopal House of Bishops. Its a fascinating retelling of the fallout from Bishop Spong’s action and an example of the fiat of institutional power. Censure is exclusion and its more then a little ironic that the House of Bishops would resort to the tool of exclusion to block and forestall gay clergy and The Oasis ministries that witness for the absolute necessity for faith communities to be inclusive.

Bishop Spong spoke of the painful process the diocesan clergy committee went through as it sought to reach a decision on the Ordination of the Rev. Rob Williams. The shackles of culture and long held beliefs forged in furnaces fueled by misconception and prejudices are a strong chains to loosen. Bishop Spong spoke of a 4 hour luncheon meeting rife with high emotions, threats and finally a resolution. After much debate and heated discussion committee members were moved to conduct a reasonable and dispassionate examination of the candidates qualifications on the content of Rob Williams character not on his sexual orientation. This empowered some committee members with the strength and courage to change their negative vote to an affirmation of Rob Williams as a worthy priest that can bring his unique gifts to serve all Gods children.  It was a milestone in the history of the Episcopal Church. It opened the door to numerous ordinations of Gay and Lesbian clergy and the eventual call of The Right Reverend Gene Robinson by the Diocese of New Hampshire to become their Bishop.

Gene Robinson’s installation as bishop has forced the church to reexamine its institutional DNA. It is a reexamination that is not complete and has created fissures in the Episcopal Church and in the broader worldwide Anglican Communion. Gene Robinson’s exclusion from last summer’s Lambeth Conference was as astonishing for it’s pettiness as for it’s cowardly subservience to political expedience. Clearly the reexamination needs to proceed. The Oasis, it ministry and supporters stand at the door and knock. Asking that the reexamination open doors to a radical interpretation of what it means to live into the inclusive love and hospitality exemplified in the ministry of Jesus Christ. The Oasis Ministry calls us to return to the simple precept of Jesus instruction to love God with all your heart by extending that love to others.

That is the only way the circle can remain unbroken. The unbroken circle informs our faith practice and commands us to recognize and extend all rights and privileges to all Gods children regardless of sexual persuasion, gender or race. A justice denied is an abomination God’s wisdom corrects. To be sure, God is faithful to the beloved and our faith in God’s wisdom is our sanctuary.  Our heart felt prayer and fervent wish is that those who have hardened their hearts through the practice of exclusion will see the light of God’s wisdom and understand that it is an abomination that God’s children can no longer suffer.

On this Gay Pride Day of 2009, marking the 40th Anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, we pray that the Lord continues to richly bless the ministries of The Oasis. We lift up all those who remain burdened and injured by the oppression of injustice to be freed from those unjust burdens and be healed and made whole from their wounds inflicted by those acting in ignorance of God’s abundant and all encompassing love.

God Speed Oasis

You Tube Music Video: Joan Baez, Let the Circle Be Unbroken

Risk: civil rights, God’s love

June 29, 2009 Posted by | Bible, Christianity, Civil Rights, faith, gospel, institutional, LGBT, love | , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Lark Ascends

Lark
John James Audubon

This weekend I attended a memorial service for a six month old child that passed this world. The service was moving and emotional. The young parents and the departed’s two year old sister were gracious and carried a quiet strength through their visible grief. The service was attended by many friends and family members that were eager to offer support and love. Life is fragile and sometimes fleeting but time spent on this earth has little to do with the quality of a life lived.  It is how one is loved and how much one has loved that marks the quality of a life well lived.

Christmas reminds us that every child that comes into this world is a profound gift. Honor the gift of life by respecting the grace of childhood. Children embody beauty, innocence, purity, the miracle of life and the power and presence of unconditional love.May we be always mindful of the special needs of this world’s children and take action to help and nurture those whose needs are apparent. By giving help and offering a hand we truly receive the grace of love.

A poem composed for the dearly departed.


The Lark Ascends

The lark ascends on light wings
Taking flight toward a heavenly home
It lingered here but a short while
Certain of the course she must go
A delicate beauty and playful grace
And twittering eyes revealed
Deep trust for love and sturdy branch
Of her verdant and earthly home
We reveled in her abundant joy
She fed our spirits and fondest hopes
Her gossamer wings a fragrance breath
Her heart angels hath divinely blessed
The lark is light!
The lark is life!
Her song forever young
The lark is kind
The lark is Thine
The lark is winging home

LAP
God Speed Beloved
12/20/08


You Tube Video: Janine Jansen, The Lark Ascending

Part 2: Janine Jansen, The Lark Ascending

You Tube Video: Josh Groban, What Child is This?

Risk: sanctity of life

December 23, 2008 Posted by | children, classical, faith, family, love | , , , , , , | Leave a comment