Scriptural Basis
Isaiah 58: 1-12 (NRSV)
Blog Reflection for Justice and Equality
As I read this Canticle from Isaiah in the Daily Office this morning, I found myself remembering all of the great things I learned and saw at Creating Change 2011.
As a convert from being Roman Catholic to Episcopalian, I love Liturgical worship and music. I love ritual with a message through all of it's symbolism, activity, context and seasonal traditions. I love Liturgical worship even more when it is inclusive of diverse groups of people, with all of our stories, life experiences and cultural histories come together with a sense of respect and solidarity. When we accept and realize that every one of us is different and decide to put those differences aside and work together, amazing things can happen.
While many of the mainline churches have become inclusive and have embraced LGBTQ people and many other minorities, we do have one major problem. We enjoy all too much talking about charitable works and doing good for others. Mainline churchgoers and sometimes our leaders do not enjoy talking as much about doing justice. We are all too content with the "us" vs "them" mentality.
As good Episcopalians "we" are really good at implying who "we" means so as not to allow "them" to disturb our warm fuzzy selves. "We have been working on becoming more inclusive, welcoming and affirming. We don't need to do much more." "We serve weekly suppers for the economically challenged. We are doing all that we can."
I do believe the issue in this canticle from the third Prophet Isaiah is worship and justice working together. Isaiah "is drawing on a long standing tradition of prophetic criticism (compare Amos 5: 18-27, which insists that worship without justice has no value.)" (John Collins, Collegeville Bible Commentary, Old Testament Volume, page 448).
At the opening plenary session for the Practice Spirit, Do Justice theme for people of all faiths at Creating Change 2011, we did an incredible three incredible ritual exercises.
Before we began we were presented with a realistic explanation of what English white Christians did to the established lives of the Indigenous Community when my Pilgrim ancestor's landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts.
(FYI for hose who do not know, my grandfather's ancestors on my mother's side of our family were Pilgrims who lived in the Plymouth Plantation.)
As if I was not already feeling bad enough hearing their stories, the presenters began leading us through the three exercises.
The first exercise began with all of us being asked to fold a single white sheet of paper into four pieces and tearing them into the four individual parts. On each of those four parts we were asked to write down things that are valuable to us. To give you examples: love, faith, opportunity, our partner(s), home, money, food etc. Then we were asked to gather closer to the front of the room. The leader asked us to hand over to him our values. After he got all of the values he could get from us, he turned around and burned them. He had taken our values and destroyed them. Just like those first English, white Christian settlers did to the Indigenous people.
To begin the second exercise they asked all of us who were white, African American, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Straight, LGBTQ, Immigrants, Latinos, married, divorced, rich or poor anything but Indigenous to stand in one small side corner of the room. As we were gathering in that small corner, they took a rope and placed it in front of us. They leaders stretched and held that rope from one corner of all of us gathered into a triangular shape to the other of the corner we were all standing in. As those of us who were told to go into that corner grew larger, the rope closed in smaller and tighter. Until we had one small corner of the room and the Indigenous people had all the widest space in the room to roam around and do whatever they wanted. That also represented what the white Christians did to the Native Americans.
The third exercise began with an Indigenous chant and dance by which the Native Americans began to gather all of us bunched inside that rope following behind the leader. Slowly and repeatedly gathering followers behind the leader, single groups of participants followed the other, until all of the people in that bunched up space were following this one person. She led us out of the roped in corner and began to march the followers around the outer edge of the room, until all of us were connected as one circle of people.
Most of us who participated in that experience were either crying, just speechless or completely unable to move without taking everything in with the utmost humility. The movement symbolized how broken, oppressed individuals who are facing injustice in our own communities and beyond, can work together as one people to change a whole generation of hearts and lives forever. But, we must be willing to see what we are doing as it is, not through the rose colored glasses that blind us to what we cannot view.
As good Episcopalians it is not enough for us to sit nicely in our church pews taking in the beauty of our worship. Our celebrating and praying as beautiful and worshipful as it is, with all the correct vestments and the best of our inclusive language does nothing for the work of Justice unless we are willing to become participants in reconciliation and visible change. The beautiful lit candles of our altar's must light the fire of compassion within our hearts that can so easily become empathetic to the needs of those who are experiencing political, social and religious based oppression. We need to move past the recitation and amens of our excellent prayerful rituals, and begin to apply the meaning of them in our everyday work of justice and equality for all people.
Episcopalians and Anglicans cannot be content to approve an Anglican Covenant that seeks to diminish the hard work of organizations such as Integrity USA and the Chicago Consultation. The wording of the present Anglican Covenant could be used as an instrument to silence our progress for the sake of those who's hearts are all too comfortable misusing their pastoral authority to oppress LGBT people all over the Anglican Communion. The Covenant seeks to make to vindicate those who are sitting silently and comfortably while ignoring our responsibility to voice and act on behalf the threatened and vulnerable LGBT sisters and brothers in Uganda. The importance of the Archbishop of Canterbury's voice condemning the actions of the Anglican Priest who disrupted David Kato's funeral proceedings cannot be overstated.
We cannot be content with superbly stated theologies, while the horrible injustice of oppression is uplifted by those who have been ordained and called to represent and minister to those who cannot walk safely in their streets, or be left peacefully alone in their homes. We here in the Episcopal Church cannot be too satisfied with ourselves for having ordained one openly gay bishop and one openly lesbian bishop. Our work for the justice and inclusion of LGBTQ people and other minorities in the Church and society has made great strides, but is far from finished.
If we are willing to get up from our comfortable places and begin the give some value to our worship by working for justice and equality, God has promised to guide us and to satisfy our needs even in places that are parched. God has promised to strengthen us to do all that we are willing to do in God's Name for those who are oppressed. That which has been ruined will be rebuilt. We will be known as the "repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live on."
Prayers
Isaiah 58: 1-12 (NRSV)
Shout out, do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet! Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins. Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God; they ask of me righteous judgments, they delight to draw near to God. "Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?" Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush, and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin? Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am. If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday. The LORD will guide you continually, and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.
Blog Reflection for Justice and Equality
As I read this Canticle from Isaiah in the Daily Office this morning, I found myself remembering all of the great things I learned and saw at Creating Change 2011.
As a convert from being Roman Catholic to Episcopalian, I love Liturgical worship and music. I love ritual with a message through all of it's symbolism, activity, context and seasonal traditions. I love Liturgical worship even more when it is inclusive of diverse groups of people, with all of our stories, life experiences and cultural histories come together with a sense of respect and solidarity. When we accept and realize that every one of us is different and decide to put those differences aside and work together, amazing things can happen.
While many of the mainline churches have become inclusive and have embraced LGBTQ people and many other minorities, we do have one major problem. We enjoy all too much talking about charitable works and doing good for others. Mainline churchgoers and sometimes our leaders do not enjoy talking as much about doing justice. We are all too content with the "us" vs "them" mentality.
As good Episcopalians "we" are really good at implying who "we" means so as not to allow "them" to disturb our warm fuzzy selves. "We have been working on becoming more inclusive, welcoming and affirming. We don't need to do much more." "We serve weekly suppers for the economically challenged. We are doing all that we can."
I do believe the issue in this canticle from the third Prophet Isaiah is worship and justice working together. Isaiah "is drawing on a long standing tradition of prophetic criticism (compare Amos 5: 18-27, which insists that worship without justice has no value.)" (John Collins, Collegeville Bible Commentary, Old Testament Volume, page 448).
At the opening plenary session for the Practice Spirit, Do Justice theme for people of all faiths at Creating Change 2011, we did an incredible three incredible ritual exercises.
Before we began we were presented with a realistic explanation of what English white Christians did to the established lives of the Indigenous Community when my Pilgrim ancestor's landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts.
(FYI for hose who do not know, my grandfather's ancestors on my mother's side of our family were Pilgrims who lived in the Plymouth Plantation.)
As if I was not already feeling bad enough hearing their stories, the presenters began leading us through the three exercises.
The first exercise began with all of us being asked to fold a single white sheet of paper into four pieces and tearing them into the four individual parts. On each of those four parts we were asked to write down things that are valuable to us. To give you examples: love, faith, opportunity, our partner(s), home, money, food etc. Then we were asked to gather closer to the front of the room. The leader asked us to hand over to him our values. After he got all of the values he could get from us, he turned around and burned them. He had taken our values and destroyed them. Just like those first English, white Christian settlers did to the Indigenous people.
To begin the second exercise they asked all of us who were white, African American, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Straight, LGBTQ, Immigrants, Latinos, married, divorced, rich or poor anything but Indigenous to stand in one small side corner of the room. As we were gathering in that small corner, they took a rope and placed it in front of us. They leaders stretched and held that rope from one corner of all of us gathered into a triangular shape to the other of the corner we were all standing in. As those of us who were told to go into that corner grew larger, the rope closed in smaller and tighter. Until we had one small corner of the room and the Indigenous people had all the widest space in the room to roam around and do whatever they wanted. That also represented what the white Christians did to the Native Americans.
The third exercise began with an Indigenous chant and dance by which the Native Americans began to gather all of us bunched inside that rope following behind the leader. Slowly and repeatedly gathering followers behind the leader, single groups of participants followed the other, until all of the people in that bunched up space were following this one person. She led us out of the roped in corner and began to march the followers around the outer edge of the room, until all of us were connected as one circle of people.
Most of us who participated in that experience were either crying, just speechless or completely unable to move without taking everything in with the utmost humility. The movement symbolized how broken, oppressed individuals who are facing injustice in our own communities and beyond, can work together as one people to change a whole generation of hearts and lives forever. But, we must be willing to see what we are doing as it is, not through the rose colored glasses that blind us to what we cannot view.
As good Episcopalians it is not enough for us to sit nicely in our church pews taking in the beauty of our worship. Our celebrating and praying as beautiful and worshipful as it is, with all the correct vestments and the best of our inclusive language does nothing for the work of Justice unless we are willing to become participants in reconciliation and visible change. The beautiful lit candles of our altar's must light the fire of compassion within our hearts that can so easily become empathetic to the needs of those who are experiencing political, social and religious based oppression. We need to move past the recitation and amens of our excellent prayerful rituals, and begin to apply the meaning of them in our everyday work of justice and equality for all people.
Episcopalians and Anglicans cannot be content to approve an Anglican Covenant that seeks to diminish the hard work of organizations such as Integrity USA and the Chicago Consultation. The wording of the present Anglican Covenant could be used as an instrument to silence our progress for the sake of those who's hearts are all too comfortable misusing their pastoral authority to oppress LGBT people all over the Anglican Communion. The Covenant seeks to make to vindicate those who are sitting silently and comfortably while ignoring our responsibility to voice and act on behalf the threatened and vulnerable LGBT sisters and brothers in Uganda. The importance of the Archbishop of Canterbury's voice condemning the actions of the Anglican Priest who disrupted David Kato's funeral proceedings cannot be overstated.
We cannot be content with superbly stated theologies, while the horrible injustice of oppression is uplifted by those who have been ordained and called to represent and minister to those who cannot walk safely in their streets, or be left peacefully alone in their homes. We here in the Episcopal Church cannot be too satisfied with ourselves for having ordained one openly gay bishop and one openly lesbian bishop. Our work for the justice and inclusion of LGBTQ people and other minorities in the Church and society has made great strides, but is far from finished.
If we are willing to get up from our comfortable places and begin the give some value to our worship by working for justice and equality, God has promised to guide us and to satisfy our needs even in places that are parched. God has promised to strengthen us to do all that we are willing to do in God's Name for those who are oppressed. That which has been ruined will be rebuilt. We will be known as the "repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live on."
Prayers
Set us free, O God, from the bondage of our sins, and give us the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known o us in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (Collect for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Book of Common Prayer, page 216).
Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen. (Prayer Attributed to St. Francis, Book of Common Prayer, page 833).
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