I'm not a huge fan of the idea of emerging church. I will admit that I say that mostly on my own account, but I feel that some of my friends too would agree with the sentiment. I'm not one who thinks we should drink coffee in the pews, or god forbid get rid of the pews altogether. Nor am I one who wants to move our services into the future - or more accessible style of worship that include powerpoint, video, and projection screens. I have had more than my fair share of conference calls, media exchanges, and video conferencing in the business world; when I find myself entering into the world of the divine I like for it to be an escape of sorts. I, and I think my friends as well, enjoy the incense that gathers at the pitch of the roof, the procession of the cross, and the candles on the altar.
Keeping in mind the slightly old-school idea that I find myself, and my friends operating from makes it very odd for me to discuss the idea of meta-eucharist. I don't know what the eucharist is all about completely, and yet I still find it to be a powerful representation and participatory act of my own devotion to the church.
A friend was telling me of this idea of mailing a eucharistic host to her god-child in South Africa, and then at a predetermined time they would start up a Skype conversation to celebrate the eucharist together. Have a priest present, and via the wizardry of the twenty-first century they would bless the host via-Skype, say prayers and share in the body of christ together.
The idea of blessing something through the technology of video-conferencing and the internet seems like such a crazy idea. But the fact that each party would be in communion with the other, even if not in the same hemisphere, creates a connection and bond that is key to the idea of what our worship revolves around.
The strangeness of it probably won't fade for me, and I truly hope that video-eucharisting won't become commonplace, but if you are in a remote part of the world and those with whom you share a common communion are nowhere to be found it seems like a fascinating alternative.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Intercessory Prayer as Social Justice tool
Few things annoy me more than prayer vigils. Prayer vigils to end violence in the streets; prayer vigils to end the war in Iraq; prayer vigils to end capital punishment...You get the idea. I've never understood the purpose of hiding yourself away in order to pray to a higher power to stop something when in reality you could be out protesting, writing letters to congress, or working with local non-profits to deal with issues. I've always looked at it as an ivory tower kind of action, city of a hill sort of thing. We are better than these people who perpetrate the actions we hate, so all of us good people are going to gather and share our concerns about you people who are not as good as us. And of course by "share our concerns" I mean pray to a divinity and make requests. I wanted to use the word supplication to explain what happens at prayer vigils, but I don't think that the definition matches the reality in my mind. Supplications require one to beg for something earnestly, or humbly. And I will be honest and say that I feel that few prayer vigils are full of humble people.
Well for those of you who have firm belief in the power of prayer will be glad to hear that some of my concerns regarding prayer vigil type meetings were allayed last night. That is not to say that I myself am going to run out, stand in a circle in the dark with candle in my hand and start praying to end war and global poverty. What it does mean is that I am beginning to gather a vague understanding of why some people feel prayer vigils are important. Equally I am beginning to see the value in intercessory prayer as a tool for social change among groups that worship together.
Last night I listened to Dr. Ruth Meyers speak on intercessory prayer, and its relationship to liturgy. I wasn't really sure what to make of it at first - given my proclivity to shun prayer as a means for change in the world. However as I listened what I found most engrossing was her analysis of "what are we doing when we pray?" I was intrigued by the idea that as a faith community shares their concerns over political, social, and economic matters the community forms an understanding of what their issues are as a single body. The example she gave was a small town who had a teachers strike. As the strike continued the community was concerned about the well being of their children's education. So they had a prayer vigil. Within a day of this prayer vigil the community formed a fund to pay for interim teachers to instruct their children until the strike came to an end. While this example is - for me - littered with ethical issues I am struck by the fact that out of a prayer vigil which deals with the intangible language of the divine came such a certain tangible result.
It had never occurred to me to think about intercessory prayer as a vehicle for social action. The act of speaking your concerns out loud in the context of a faith community that you may or may not share values with can move you, and perhaps others, to act on your words. I had never thought about the power of words in this context - when two or three are gathered with the same thoughts about a need for social justice they can convince and encourage each other to act on it.
While I still am not sure that I want to go jump into a prayer circle, I am glad that I am starting to understand how prayer can influence people to act on the good they feel is needed in the world. So to intercessory prayer I say "Go you huskies!"
Well for those of you who have firm belief in the power of prayer will be glad to hear that some of my concerns regarding prayer vigil type meetings were allayed last night. That is not to say that I myself am going to run out, stand in a circle in the dark with candle in my hand and start praying to end war and global poverty. What it does mean is that I am beginning to gather a vague understanding of why some people feel prayer vigils are important. Equally I am beginning to see the value in intercessory prayer as a tool for social change among groups that worship together.
Last night I listened to Dr. Ruth Meyers speak on intercessory prayer, and its relationship to liturgy. I wasn't really sure what to make of it at first - given my proclivity to shun prayer as a means for change in the world. However as I listened what I found most engrossing was her analysis of "what are we doing when we pray?" I was intrigued by the idea that as a faith community shares their concerns over political, social, and economic matters the community forms an understanding of what their issues are as a single body. The example she gave was a small town who had a teachers strike. As the strike continued the community was concerned about the well being of their children's education. So they had a prayer vigil. Within a day of this prayer vigil the community formed a fund to pay for interim teachers to instruct their children until the strike came to an end. While this example is - for me - littered with ethical issues I am struck by the fact that out of a prayer vigil which deals with the intangible language of the divine came such a certain tangible result.
It had never occurred to me to think about intercessory prayer as a vehicle for social action. The act of speaking your concerns out loud in the context of a faith community that you may or may not share values with can move you, and perhaps others, to act on your words. I had never thought about the power of words in this context - when two or three are gathered with the same thoughts about a need for social justice they can convince and encourage each other to act on it.
While I still am not sure that I want to go jump into a prayer circle, I am glad that I am starting to understand how prayer can influence people to act on the good they feel is needed in the world. So to intercessory prayer I say "Go you huskies!"
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Episcopal Relief and Development personal reaction and debrief
I will admit I've never been one for leaving any thing up to providence. But that is exactly how I ended up being a seminary coordinator for Episcopal Relief and Development. On our incoming class retreat we were given the opportunity to "discern" who was called to work with as a representative to the seminary on this cause. In this process of discernment we went around in a group and shared our strengths and weaknesses. As it turns out I think I said something of particular interest to my classmates because they unanimously elected me to be one of the *six* coordinators between CDSP (Church Divinity School of the Pacific) and Episcopal Relief and Development.
Being that I was one of six people who were tasked with the of representation of this group that I had never heard of (Episcopal Relief and Development) to the school I felt like it was a bit of a sham to be honest. Do you really need six people to promote a fund raising, and outreach program that is built into the Episcopal church to an Episcopal seminary? Felt awkward.
Well I just attended my first seminarian network meeting for Episcopal Relief and Development this past weekend - and I am unable to express how much of a difference it has made in my understanding and appreciation of this kind of work.
I'll be honest and say I've always had great respect for those who work in non-profit, but I am hesitant to say whether it is a lifestyle that I would ever like to take on for myself. As I traveled to Virginia for the seminarian network meeting of the Episcopal Relief and Development I was quite suspicious of the whole situation - I was concerned it was going to be just a bunch of people sitting around a table talking about how saving lives is important, but not really doing any thing about it. As it turned out this suspicion was only partially true - we did sit around a table and talk, but we were talking about some very tangible ideas and gathering some great information.
I was quite moved by the fact that the meeting was held at Virginia Theological Seminary - the implications of this for me included the fact that I was able to visit a very good friend in Washington DC, and being a history nerd I was able to really embrace the locale and appreciate the history VTS has played in the Episcopal church. And in the midst of visiting my friend in DC I was able to experience the city as an adult, which is quite different from my random trips back as a child. I was able to talk about politics a little bit, and recognize the impact that things like a faith based organization can have to the politics even of a staunch atheist. The recognition that DC is both a monument to our nation, as well as a working city that runs our nation is a bit of a head trip. But in the greatest sense of the word realizing DC as a city, and monument is empowering. As someone who has been questioning the point of graduate school for a few weeks it was refreshing to feel like there is a place for a non-secular mind, in this secular world we live in (but don't get me wrong I still won't define the divinity for you).
What frustrated me most about the meetings this weekend were the varied theological understandings of what social justice within the context of the church entails. There were some in the room who felt that although by working to save the lives of those less fortunate we are not fulfilling out baptismal covenant unless we are trying to save their eternal souls as well. This frustrated me to no end simply because I am a person who sees the world through fairly secular eyes however I feel that I certainly have a tinge or religiosity to my world view. Within this religious-cum-secular view that I bring to the table I was simultaneously frustrated and confounded as to why social justice does not automatically equate to doing justice in the name of God.
Further more are we in any way failing our baptismal covenant by saving the mortal lives of people, or does our covenant require us to seek the eternal salvation of a person no matter their own belief? Further is it not the duty of the leaders of the church to help the people in the pews understand that whether you call yourself Episcopalian, Catholic, Baptist, or any other variant that it is your duty to help save the lives of those less fortunate. To me this is the great disconnect that I felt: I would rather have four living Muslim kids than one dead Christian kid - I mean that in the most sarcastic notion possible; but in reality I am far more concerned with the generation that I can help than the possibility of saving the soul of one person. The salvation of that one person is between that person and the Divine, not between me and my covenant as a person of faith.
I am invigorated, and really excited that the the secular political world has a place for a confused crazy kid like me. We'll see how it all shakes out...
Being that I was one of six people who were tasked with the of representation of this group that I had never heard of (Episcopal Relief and Development) to the school I felt like it was a bit of a sham to be honest. Do you really need six people to promote a fund raising, and outreach program that is built into the Episcopal church to an Episcopal seminary? Felt awkward.
Well I just attended my first seminarian network meeting for Episcopal Relief and Development this past weekend - and I am unable to express how much of a difference it has made in my understanding and appreciation of this kind of work.
I'll be honest and say I've always had great respect for those who work in non-profit, but I am hesitant to say whether it is a lifestyle that I would ever like to take on for myself. As I traveled to Virginia for the seminarian network meeting of the Episcopal Relief and Development I was quite suspicious of the whole situation - I was concerned it was going to be just a bunch of people sitting around a table talking about how saving lives is important, but not really doing any thing about it. As it turned out this suspicion was only partially true - we did sit around a table and talk, but we were talking about some very tangible ideas and gathering some great information.
I was quite moved by the fact that the meeting was held at Virginia Theological Seminary - the implications of this for me included the fact that I was able to visit a very good friend in Washington DC, and being a history nerd I was able to really embrace the locale and appreciate the history VTS has played in the Episcopal church. And in the midst of visiting my friend in DC I was able to experience the city as an adult, which is quite different from my random trips back as a child. I was able to talk about politics a little bit, and recognize the impact that things like a faith based organization can have to the politics even of a staunch atheist. The recognition that DC is both a monument to our nation, as well as a working city that runs our nation is a bit of a head trip. But in the greatest sense of the word realizing DC as a city, and monument is empowering. As someone who has been questioning the point of graduate school for a few weeks it was refreshing to feel like there is a place for a non-secular mind, in this secular world we live in (but don't get me wrong I still won't define the divinity for you).
What frustrated me most about the meetings this weekend were the varied theological understandings of what social justice within the context of the church entails. There were some in the room who felt that although by working to save the lives of those less fortunate we are not fulfilling out baptismal covenant unless we are trying to save their eternal souls as well. This frustrated me to no end simply because I am a person who sees the world through fairly secular eyes however I feel that I certainly have a tinge or religiosity to my world view. Within this religious-cum-secular view that I bring to the table I was simultaneously frustrated and confounded as to why social justice does not automatically equate to doing justice in the name of God.
Further more are we in any way failing our baptismal covenant by saving the mortal lives of people, or does our covenant require us to seek the eternal salvation of a person no matter their own belief? Further is it not the duty of the leaders of the church to help the people in the pews understand that whether you call yourself Episcopalian, Catholic, Baptist, or any other variant that it is your duty to help save the lives of those less fortunate. To me this is the great disconnect that I felt: I would rather have four living Muslim kids than one dead Christian kid - I mean that in the most sarcastic notion possible; but in reality I am far more concerned with the generation that I can help than the possibility of saving the soul of one person. The salvation of that one person is between that person and the Divine, not between me and my covenant as a person of faith.
I am invigorated, and really excited that the the secular political world has a place for a confused crazy kid like me. We'll see how it all shakes out...
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