A Sunday at the Cathedral

Although I’ve been to the Cathedral many times, for many different events, this past Sunday was my first visitation.

Cathedrals, in the Anglican Church, have always been “big tents.” In addition to being the place where the bishop had his chair (cathedra), cathedrals were also community gathering places, places where the whole community or various sub-groups of the community could come together for celebration, mourning, education and conversation. That tradition has continued in the Episcopal Church as Episcopal Cathedrals have played host to earth day gatherings, presidential burials, symphony concerts and circuses. I’m proud that the Cathedral Church of St. Luke is part of that tradition, opening its doors to the whole diocese and the wider Portland community.

The morning started early with a gathering of seven candidates for confirmation, reaffirmation and reception. After a brief rehearsal we talked together about what drew them to the Episcopal Church and what inspired them to reaffirm their baptismal vows. Over and over again, I heard the words “welcome,” “inclusion,” “family,” and “support.” Despite the high ceilings of the Cathedral, there is a sense of extended family in which each feels a strong sense of place.

Then, after a brief gathering song with the Children’s Church, I met with the Adult Forum for an hour of questions about the life of the diocese and the Episcopal Church. Some of the best questions came from some high schoolers who asked about divisions in the Anglican Communion and wondered aloud about “normative Anglicanism.” It was a good opportunity to talk about what makes us Anglicans and how the Episcopal Church fits within that understanding.

The worship service was festive in the best tradition of the Cathedral – processions, incense and special music. (I think I’m getting better at swinging the thurible – the incense pot.) As she often does when she has the chance, Gretchen sang with the Cathedral choir.

Following the service, Gretchen and I joined the Vestry for a relaxed time of fellowship at the home of the Dean, Ben Shambaugh. We talked some business, but also had a chance for informal conversation.

Then it was back to the Cathedral for an interfaith service of prayer for the people of Haiti. Canon Carolyn Coleman had worked with a small group of ministers from the Portland area to design the service. Prayers were offered in three traditions: Christian (Catholic and Protestant), Jewish and Muslim. Several ministers from each tradition were present to offer prayers for the dead, for the suffering, and for rescue workers. Each section was opened with a time of silence and ended with the reading of poetry. Bishop Knudsen ended the service with a benediction in French.

It was after 5 pm when Gretchen and I headed home. It had been a full day, rich with celebration and prayer; the Cathedral living out its vocation.

+Steve

In the midst of death, life will emerge

Sermon preached by the Rt. Rev. Stephen T. Lane, Bishop of Maine
Epiphany 3 – January 24, 2010
Cathedral of St. Luke, Portland

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a; Luke 4:14-21

Like many of you, I’ve spent much of the last two weeks reflecting on my belief in God and on the nature of Christian hope. The seemingly inexhaustible horror of a magnitude 7 earthquake near Port au Prince, Haiti, has left something like 3,000,000 Haitians refugees in their own land. 1.5 million are homeless. All need water and food and medical care. Because most goods and services reach Haiti through Port au Prince, the whole country is at risk. As people flee the city, they take their needs, their hunger, to regions that have few resources to help. Television dissects the disaster in excruciating detail.

Observers have complained about the slowness of relief efforts, the lack of leadership and coordination, but the truth is that this is the greatest disaster to occur in one place at one time since Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Even if the world does the very best it can, it is an open question if the world can feed, clothe and house 1.5 to 3 million people on a daily basis for months to come. In the face of such a disaster, words fail. The only appropriate response is a deep sense of grief: grief for the dead, grief for the injured, grief for the loss and devastation, grief for those we know, grief for those known only to God. And it is no surprise if we wonder about the love of God.

What we’re talking about is called, in theology, the problem of theodicy. Simply stated, in the face of disaster, God is either incapable of acting and is therefore impotent, or God chooses not to act and is therefore indifferent to human suffering. An all-powerful and loving God would not permit such a disaster. As I read the press and blogs, pundits everywhere are pointing either to irrelevance of faith in God or looking for some way to explain why God might want to punish the Haitians.

But such an understanding of belief, in particular, of Christian belief, rests on the theological speculations of fourth century theologians, early fathers of the faith, whose view of the cosmos and knowledge of science was very different from our own. In the fourth century, many things that we now understand as naturally caused were ascribed to God’s actions. It was an easy step to theologize that God caused and controlled everything.

Yet if we look to our Holy Book, there is nothing in scripture that suggests that God was or is able to prevent people from experiencing the consequences of living in a real world. Indeed, most of scripture is an extended reflection on how to live with the pain and the suffering of life in a real world.

The fact is that God created an ordered and predictable universe. Scientists have been working for centuries to understand that order. But with or without science, we can usually predict what will happen in our world. We can predict what will happen if we step off a cliff or in front of a bus. We know what will happen if we build homes on a flood plan or a fault line. We know what will happen if building codes are inadequate or there’s too much sand in the concrete. We know what will happen if we put a lot of people in a place with too little water or food. The world that God created is open to us and allows us to learn about it and to grow and organize our lives so as to live better.

And in this ordered world things collide – tectonic plates, weather systems, people and objects, ideologies, and nations – and when they do the consequences are predictable and often destructive. The Bible is the story of a people who conquered Palestine and then were themselves conquered over and over again. They saw their cities and their temple destroyed. They were carried off into exile. They were restored by foreign powers. They rebuilt their cities and their communities. Then they were conquered and nearly taxed into oblivion by the Roman Empire. And through it all, scripture says, God was with them.

Our faith is not that God will protect us from life in God’s ordered and predictable world. Our faith is that in the midst of that life God is with us to help us endure and to encourage us to live in ways that are closer to God’s intentions. The question for us is how do we connect more deeply to that life, how do we live more in tune with God’s intentions?

For the exiles returning from Babylon to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and restore the Temple, it was the keeping of the Law of Moses. Indeed the physical walls were a symbol of the wall created by the Law. The Law was the gift of God through Moses to God’s people. It gave the people an identity and an ethic, a way of life. Keeping the Law kept the people in touch with God’s intentions and distinguished them from those who lived outside the walls.

Paul doesn’t speak of a walled community, but he does speak, in equally concrete terms, of a body. The Christian community is like a human body, and all who are parts of the body have a role. People have many different gifts, but all can be used and, in the context of the body, none is superior to any other. Being part of the body connects us with Christ and distinguishes us from those who are not part of the body.

But the question remains… is this connection with God enough. Can it give us hope? What about being a walled city or a body can give us hope?

An answer, I think, is found in our Gospel. Those who have the Spirit of the Lord, who obey God’s law, who join with Jesus in fulfilling God’s intentions for the world, proclaim good news, freedom and recovery. They proclaim a world in which every person is part of God’s jubilee, the shalom, the harmony, which God intends for the cosmos. And they and God are working right now to make it happen.

This past Wednesday, the eighth day after the quake, I watched as a search and rescue team from New York freed a young girl and her little brother from the rubble of their home. As the young boy was raised from a hole in the ground his face broke into a huge grin and his arms were flung open wide in a spontaneous expression of the victory of life. At the joy of this rescue, all gathered broke into a roar and applause. That, for me, is our hope: not that the world will suddenly become magical, not that we will no longer suffer the predictable consequences of life in our world, but that, in the midst of death, life will emerge again. And we will have a chance, again, to live in harmony with God and one another. That’s the Good News – that God brings life from death and we can share in that life.\

In just a few minutes we will renew our baptismal covenant with those who are confirming or reaffirming their baptismal vows. And we will commit ourselves again to work with God to bring life from death, to be signs ourselves, of the hope that is in us. Will it make our lives easier? No… Indeed, it may make them harder. Will it make our lives safer? No… it may prompt us to take great risks. But it will align us with the One whose will is to free and to heal and to recover. It will join us with God in God’s hope for the world. It will join us to a world in which the lives of 3,000,000 Haitians are essential to the harmony of our own lives. It will join us to a world in which new life rises from a hole in the ground. May it be so. Amen.

Members of Maine's Muslim, Jewish and Christian communities and civic leaders gathered at the Cathedral of St. Luke on Sunday, January 24, for an Interfaith Prayer Service.

Serious worship, Serious Conversation at St. Peter’s, Portland

Sunday Gretchen and I made the leisurely one mile trek from our home to St. Peter’s, Portland. St. Peter’s has a block long campus on Washington Avenue complete with a large green space, a parish building, and, across the avenue, a rectory. It also has perhaps the largest church sign in the diocese, which was emblazoned with a word of welcome.

We arrived in time for conversation with a person being received and for instructions about the service. St. Peter’s is Anglo-catholic in style, and so we had acolytes, a crucifer and a thurifer. I think this was my “smokiest” service so far.

The worship was quite wonderful. If you haven’t been in St. Peter’s before, the west end of the nave is filled with a magnificent contemporary window in a literal rainbow of color. It’s simply stunning and quite an experience to stand before as you preach.

After the service we retired downstairs for a reception and period of questions and answers. Then I met with the Vestry for more than hour of serious conversation about ministry and money. St. Peter’s is looking at serious financial constraints and developing a plan not only to cut expenses, but also to collaborate with neighboring congregations. Our talk was frank and passionate, but also focused on being good stewards and good employers.

As the day was ending, we took Rector Wayne Rollins to the Miss Portland Diner, one of my favorite places, for a bit of lunch. I had a true sense of Advent waiting as we headed home.

+Steve

A Christmas Message from Bishop Steve

imaginative conversations mark visits to Hallowell and Brewer

The week before Thanksgiving I had the rare and joyous occasion to baptize the adopted infant son of one of our clergy families, the Rev. Calvin Sanborn and Daniel Summers. Since nothing is ever “private” in the church – our worship is always public – Owen’s baptism became the opportunity for two other baptisms at St. Matthew’s, Hallowell. And since the bishop was visiting, we added confirmations, a conversation with those confirming their vows, and meeting with the Vestry. And since lots of folks would be there, we added a question and answer period with the congregation. All of that made for a sprawling and happily chaotic service bracketed by serious discussion about ministry.

St. Matthew’s was packed, and the morning was characterized by great energy. The churches of the greater Augusta area are actively involved in conversation about collaboration, so the discussion with the Vestry was far reaching and imaginative. And the day ended with the opportunity to meet Owen’s extended family – grandparents, aunts and uncles. All in all it was the kind of festive, fun and thought-provoking day that I hope that all visitations can be.

The weekend after Thanksgiving weekend, Gretchen and I drove to St. Patrick’s, Brewer, for our visit. St. Patrick’s is in transition between clergy and has been ably assisted by Interim Priest-in-Charge, Emily Gibson. As Brewer is a bit over two hours from home, Gretchen and I drove to Brewer on Saturday afternoon following the Diocesan Council meeting in Wiscasset and had the opportunity for relaxed dinner with Emily. As we were eating, it began to snow…

In the morning there was more than six inches of the stuff on the ground. I scrambled around getting the car cleaned off so we’d be on time. We made it for breakfast with the confirmands and had the opportunity for extended conversation. I got to know a bit more of the journeys of the folks presenting themselves. There is usually a significant story behind the decision to confirm one’s baptismal vows.

Despite the snow there was good attendance at worship. Deacon Peggy Day assisted with the service. St. Patrick’s has a wonderfully bright and open nave which allows all who gather to participate easily. Family members joined us up front for confirmation.

Following the service we adjourned for a festive reception which featured a demonstration of Irish dancing. One of the confirmands is a young, but expert, dancer, and St. Patrick’s has given the dancers a place to rehearse. The dancing was great fun. And then I snuck away with the Vestry to talk about ministry. St. Patrick’s is in conversation with its neighbor, St. James’, Old Town, about collaborating for ministry, so again our conversation was creative and far reaching. The parking lot was icy, but the roads were bare and dry and our spirits were high as we headed for home.

+Steve

Bishop Steve’s book club’s live chat Sunday, Dec. 13 at 7:30 p.m.

Tonight’s the night! At 7:30 p.m. EST Sunday evening join Bishop Steve for an hour of live chat to discuss Brian McLaren’s book “Everything Must Change.”

Read the book? Drop in and share your thoughts. There in no log-in or special know-how to join the chat.

From 7:30 to 8:30 p.m. tonight join us here: http://drop.io/bishopsbookclub/chat

To read the comments published about the book so far, please click on the book club link directly above this post.

Six members of your diocesan staff tested the drop.io chat feature out on Friday and it went very well (and was pretty fun!) That test run has prompted up to offer the suggestions listed below.

1. When you arrive you’ll see all the people in the chat room listed on the left side. You’ll initially be described like this: “Guest1234 (you) edit”. Click on “edit” then type your first name and click save.

2. You enter your comments by typing them in the text line at the bottom of the page.

3. It’s perfectly fine to “listen” in without participating. We simply ask that you please change your name from “Guest” so we know you’re among us.

4. This is Chat 101, so if you’re an experienced chatter please don’t use acronyms or shortcuts for phases that not everyone will know or recognize.

5. Please turn the cap lock off. Otherwise, IT SOUNDS LIKE YOUR SHOUTING AT EVERYONE.

6. Please stay on topic. Tonight we’re talking about Brian McLaren’s book, “Everything Must Change.”

7. The transcript of the conversation will not be saved in any form. Shortly after 8:30 p.m. when the live chat ends, it will evaporate into cyberspace.

8. And this is important: Tonight’s live chat is the Diocese of Maine’s first time out with this method of communicating. It may be fun and go off without a hitch. It may be glitchy and frustrating. It may be a little of both. We just don’t know, but we appreciate you joining with Bishop Steve in exploring new ways of sharing our life as Maine Episcopalians.

Till then,
Heidi Shott
Canon for Communications and Social Justice

Different Sorts of Services – St. Thomas’, St. Mary’s, St. Dunstan’s

One of the things I enjoy most about my work as Bishop of Maine is to experience the different cultures of our congregations and to take part in different sorts of worship services.

Three weeks ago I joined the good folk of St. Thomas’, Camden, for a Founders Day service. The liturgy that morning was a scaled down version of a 19th century edition of the 18th century liturgy that was in use when St. Thomas’ was established. It was a grand occasion, and although we would all recognize some of the language from either the 1928 BCP or our current Rite I, the order of the service was quite different. Had we done the whole thing, it would have lasted over two hours! And the tone was much more evangelical than we are accustomed to. Indeed, for a parish with St. Thomas’ Anglo-Catholic preferences, it was a very different service. Still the outlines of our worship were readily identifiable, and although Maine is no longer the frontier, the work of preparing the faithful for the work of mission goes on – now as then.

The next week I visited St. Mary the Virgin, Falmouth. St. Mary’s is a growing congregation. Not everyone can fit in the church for one service. So we joined St. Mary’s at 8 and 10. Children were very much in evidence at both services, and the formality of the worship was leavened by a relaxed welcome of the children.

Rector James Dalton-Thompson presented the largest class of confirmands I’ve seen to date. Between the services I met with twenty folks who were being confirmed along with others who were being received or reaffirming their vows. We had good conversation about what had led them to the decision to claim the vows of their baptism. As always, our conversation uncovered moving stories about the pilgrimage we share.

The 10 a.m. service was a joyous affair with careful choreography – it took a lot of care to move 26 folks around the chancel – and wonderful music. Deacon Christine Bennett helped me manage crosier, book and chrism. St. Mary’s was full to overflowing. We also took special care not to spread the H1N1 virus. I asked parents to see that their children took the bread only and that any who had health concerns might also receive just the bread. The H1N1 is on a tear through Maine. More than 50% of our schools have had absentee rates approaching 15%. It’s crucial that we not put children and young adults at risk. Receiving communion in one kind is full communion and protects our kids.

Following our worship we joined for a reception in the parish hall – great food and great conversation with many parishioners. And then ministry conversation with the Vestry. St. Mary’s is considering a careful plan to expand its campus to meet the needs of a growing congregation and to provide better space for ministry. The vestry is working hard both to support ministry and to steward the parish’s resources. It was a good conversation.

The day was not yet ended. Gretchen and I headed back to Portland, but went to the Cathedral for a service of sung Evensong and the Commissioning of James Dalton-Thompson as Canon Precentor and Samuel Henderson as honorary Canon.

Last week I was present at St. Dunstan’s, Ellsworth, for an extraordinary Sunday Service. Extraordinary Sundays are Sundays when the boundaries between Sunday School and Sunday worship are intentionally lowered and all present are invited to participate in intergenerational activities. We began with several craft activities including writing our gifts for ministry on leaves for a tree of ministry and using sidewalk chalk to decorate the front walk with invitations to worship. The service itself was great fun with the table moved down to just in front of the pews. There is no organist at St. Dunstan’s, the organist having recently taken a new position, but there was great music. The congregation sang with gusto following the confident leadership of Rector Chris Chornyak and sang much of the service, including the prayers. This was my first encounter with regularly sung intercessions in any of our congregations, and St. Dunstan’s, led by Deacon Peggy Day, did a beautiful job! (I understand that Deacon Joan Preble also sings quite well.)

Worship was followed by a gala reception and then a meeting with the Vestry. It was a beautiful fall day, and people we eager to get to their yards. Nonetheless there was a good period of questions at the reception, and then I joined the Vestry for a searching conversation about ministry and money. St. Dunstan’s is a powerhouse of ministry with many important community ministries. But they struggle to make ends meet. We had a good conversation about a reality many of us are facing and which our Mission Strategy Study Group (soon to be named) will try to address.

The sun was shining as Gretchen and I headed home down the Acadia Highway.

+STL

Bishop Steve reflects on his second Diocesan Convention

Heading North: Engaging in conversation with the Aroostook Cluster

Having traveled to the County for Holy Week and Easter, a different sort of visit, Gretchen and I returned to the County the weekend of October 10 – 11 for an official visit. We left Portland on Friday and drove north through lowering fall skies. We made very good time and arrived at the home of Bob and Thelma Smith in time for me to meet with Bob and prepare for the weekend. Then we joined all the clergy and some spouses for dinner at the Presque Isle Inn and Convention Center.

One of my objectives was to have private time with each of the clergy, so much of the weekend was given over to those conversations. I deeply appreciate the willingness of the clergy to make time in their schedules and to bring me up to speed on their lives and ministries. It was truly sacred time.

Saturday afternoon, I met with the Cluster Council – consisting of members of the five parishes of the Aroostook Episcopal Cluster – and we had some of the frankest conversation I’ve yet had with congregational leadership. The declining economy of Maine is deeply felt in Aroostook County, and several of the congregations are feeling small and old. One, at least, is worried about closing, and we had good conversation about worship, ministry and buildings. These conversations will need to continue, but I think we made important first steps.

It’s hard in the midst of all the challenges are churches are facing not to think that we are doing something wrong, that we’ve failed. But the fact is that the world has changed, and our expectations about how to be church must change as well. We’ve not done a bad job. Rather, we must find new ways to meet the challenges of our time. It’s hard to let go of the way we’ve done things for so long and to consider new ways of being church. I suspect this is the particular task of our day.

On Sunday, all of the congregations of the County met at St. John’s, Presque Isle, for worship. With so many folks in one place, we had a glorious service with special music and a grand lunch. After time for a few bites, we joined in conversation about youth ministry, about concerns in the cluster, and about General Convention. A good morning.

We stayed another night in the County to have opportunity for further conversation with clergy and families. On Monday (Columbus Day) we were up early to get home, but the traffic was so heavy that it took most of the day to return. And we dawdled a bit on the way. The skies had a winterish look… but it didn’t snow.

+Steve

Going Westward: Celebrating ministry in Rumford and Norway

One of the disciplines of blogging is keeping at it. Each week I try to write my blog entry as soon as I get home. But often something gets in the way and the days slip by. So this entry, as the last few, is a catch up entry. My apologies in advance to the congregations I’ve visited. The late blog is not a reflection of the importance of the visit.

On Sunday, October 4, I visited the good people of St. Barnabas’, Rumford. Gretchen and I were out the door very early on a chilly, overcast, fall morning. As we headed north, the sky constantly brightened, and the last few miles were in sunshine. The mountains were covered in glorious color as the foliage reached its peak. Since traffic was very light we arrived early and had time to tour the church. St. Barnabas’ is a jewel of a church, the exterior built of large river rocks and the inside smooth and white. The acoustics are excellent, and the windows are unique and unusual. There is one of Nicodemus up in his tree and another of the call of Isaiah. A simply lovely church.

The congregation was small but we sang with gusto. Fr. Tim Parsons, an accomplished guitarist, accompanied a couple of numbers. There was a confirmation and a reception. Following the service we joined for a lovely lunch and then I met with the vestry. St. Barnabas’ is concerned about the size and age of its congregation and about maintaining its ministries in the community. In those concerns, it joins many congregations of our diocese.

It would have been lovely to linger by the river, but Sunday was a very full day. Leaving Rumford, Gretchen and I dashed to Norway and Christ Church. There I joined with Bishop Richard Malone, of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Portland, in celebrating 30 years of a covenant relationship between Christ Church and St. Catharine of Sienna. These two churches have been colleagues in ministry for a generation and continue to share in all sorts of ministries together. The clergy, including our Anne Stanley, are colleagues and friends and provide continuing support for one another. Bishop Malone and I prayed for the continuing vitality of the covenant and that our relationship would endure despite the stresses between our denominations.

And then we went across the street to Catharine of Sienna to bless the animals! Dogs, cats, birds, ferrets… St. Francis’ Day. A lovely ending to the day leaving both bishops in their finery, covered with hair.

+Steve