Closer to fine

After the eighteen months of wandering through the desert (though having moments of hospitality), after eight discernment committee processes, I finally ended up fifteen miles from where I last served a congregation. I considered congregations in MA, CT and even Mexico. And when everything settled down, I landed at the congregation where Anne has been attending since 1994, eleven miles from our tiny house.


The preacher at the service of installation and celebration of a new season of ministry, the Rev'd Gwen Groff, a local Mennonite pastor, said eloquently:

... Which leads me to the last thing that Lee wanted us to focus on. This land. This thin place on the earth. Lee said what she is interested in is "connecting with the land and living in a thin place." The term "thin place" has been used in many ways, but I believe the phrase was originally used by the Celts, whose theology said that there are places on earth where the veil between heaven and earth is very thin, places that serve almost like a portal where you can practically reach through or step through and experience God.

Now I think of those sacred places as destinations, a place you travel to as a deliberate pilgrimage, or stumble upon unexpectedly. Lee's words, that she is interested in what it means to live in a thin place made me think of thin places a bit differently. Because if the psalmist is right, and Basil is right, that God's Holy Spirit is everywhere, then one place isn't more "thin" than another. A thin place need not be a windswept stone circle built on an energetic convergence of ley lines. A thin place is anywhere our hearts are opened to God. God is always here. But in a thin place we are more open to God, we are suddenly made aware of God's constant presence, and we are more likely to take risks of listening and being transformed.

A thin place is not only a place we feel something; it's a state of being where we become more like the God we meet when our hearts are open. A thin place can be experienced in worship. This sanctuary is worn thin by the prayers that have been spoken here. And a thin place can be experienced in action, in working across differences and finding God in the other. [(c) Gwen Groff, 14 June 2013]

Church of Our Saviour, with its long history of farmer priests, its close connection to the land, and its Benedictine tradition all make for a peaceful, peace-filled spot in the Vermont Greens. COS is where the priest truly can live out relational priesthood, come back close to a vocational rather than professional priesthood, live with one foot in the 19th century when this place was founded and the 21st where it lives and reaches out to the local community.

I feel exceptionally at peace here, in a way that I have not since 2008 when I left Northfield. This sense of 'coming down' right was solidified as today I attended a wedding reception of two former parishioners. As I talked with other members of where I last served, I gave thanks again that I am no longer in that stressful place. Somehow COS seems more authentic, closer to the ground, not lost in pretense.

To my delight, I once again have a vegetable garden with potatoes (I no longer remember what types), green, purple and yellow beans, tomatoes and lots of hot peppers. The beans are sprouting as are the 'taters and the peppers and 'maters are coming along. No, I won't be Fr Dan or Fr Heminway in cassock out on a tractor (the church doesn't have one), but in a small way, I can tap into the ethos of the farmer priest which is so much a part of the history of this place.

Now... if any of you have $30K out there, it would go a long way to helping us repair the vicarage chimneys and replace the roof, and shore up a collapsing barn, all of which are on the National Historic Registry (!).

[Blogger ain't wordpress; formatting here is disastrous.]

Where is God in this all?

Last night after sending off yet another round of answers to a parish discernment committee, I had an strong sense of sadness. I needed to go back and look at like answers from 10-15 years ago when I was in other searches with congregations to pin down exactly what caused my malaise. What I saw confirmed what I felt: the preponderance of questions nowadays concern the institution, the administration and running of a congregation and no longer ask things such as: what authors do I read, who inspires me, what my core values are, what is my theological understanding of the sacraments, who is Jesus for me, and questions of that nature. Fair enough, a congregational discernment committee wants to know what sort of administrator I will be, how I will manage their finances, and how I will help the church grow (I cannot stand the current trendy phrase, 'to grow the church;' it sets my teeth on edge). I am OK with this; it is just that I miss discussion of the other things. That discussion eventually comes out in an interview if one is lucky, but as the initial introduction, the practical shows up first.

Several of the questions from the Office of Transitional Ministry focus on the doing rather than the being of a priest in community, though one certainly can weave in one's theology and core values:

Describe a moment in your recent ministry that you recognise as one of success and fulfillment.
Describe your liturgical style and practice.
How do you practice incorporating others in ministry?
How do you care for your spiritual and emotional well-being?
Describe your involvement in either the wider church or geographical community.
How do you engage in pastoral care for others?
Tell about a ministry project that exists because of your leadership. What was your role in its creation? Who are its contacts?
How are you preparing yourself for the Church of the future?
What is your personal practice of stewardship and how do you utilize it to influence your ministry in your worshipping community?
What is your experience of conflict involving the church? And what is your experience in addressing it?
What is your experience of leading/addressing change in the church? When has it gone well? When has it gone poorly? And what did you learn?

Congregations submitting their form answer this set of questions:

Describe a moment in your worshipping community's recent ministry that you recognise as one of success and fulfillment.
How are you preparing yourselves for the Church of the future?
Please provide words describing the gifts and skills essential to the future leaders of your worshipping community.
Describe your liturgical style and practice for all types of worship in your community.
How do you practice incorporating others in ministry?
As a worshipping community, how do you care for your spiritual, emotional and physical well-being?
How do you engage in pastoral care for those beyond your worshipping community?
Describe your worshipping community's involvement in either the wider church or geographical community.
Tell about a ministry that your worshipping community has initiated in the past 5 years. Who can be contacted about this project?
What is your practice of stewardship and how does it shape the life of your worshipping community?
What is your worshipping community's experience of conflict? And how have you addressed it?
What is your experience of leading/addressing change in the church? When has it gone well? When has it gone poorly? And what did you learn?

As you can see, most of the questions overlap. They are fine questions; they invite reflection and conversation since priest and congregation basically answer the same things.

But when do we get to talk about God? Jesus? The Holy Spirit working in our lives? Oh, they can and should be woven into an answer, but the focus of the question does not always permit a full exploration of these aspects of our faith.

Then parish questions follow the same line of thinking (the questions below are a composite of some of the questions I have answered in the past seventeen months):

Of the work you have done during the past year, what single thing has been the most satisfying to you, and why?
What intrigues you and what challenges you about St. Swithin’s profile, and why?
What beyond your current resume and OTM portfolio do you think is important that we know about you, and what isn’t in our profile that you would especially like to know about us when we talk?
Describe your experience in developing a multi-year plan for a church where you have been the Rector.
What is in our Profile that is of particular interest to you? Why?
Describe a recent accomplishment and a recent challenge in your ministry, and how your leadership affected the outcome?
What potential benefits and drawbacks would you anticipate in a ministry at Saint Swithin's?


What intrigues me is a focus on 'success' and 'satisfaction' with whatever ministry one has done. Should we be emphasising a notion of success in ministry? Does success overshadow service? And are success and satisfaction one and the same? If I encourage some sort of ministry, am I doing so to guarantee success or is it because I am trying to live the words of Jesus? Do we do what we do because we are trying to be faithful to the Gospel message of hope and reconciliation?

Perhaps my angst comes from knowing what life in a small congregation is compared to life in a large congregation, where ministry is more hands-on with fewer layers of committees and hierarchy. Part of it might also come from knowing that more and more congregations can no longer support a 'professionally' trained priest; that a full-time position in this part of the country is going the way of the dinosaurs. More and more of us will have to become bivocational priests, finding alternative sources of income while engaging in ministry. That, in turn, can invite more people into ministry. Perhaps some of my reaction comes from the total sense of uncertainty the institutional church faces across the denominational board. The institutional church occupies a very different place in society than it used to; we can no longer count on civic religion to carry us; we need to get back to basics, the gospel.

This post is a bit rambling because I am still trying to figure out just exactly what is triggering these thoughts. Maybe others can kibbitz and help nail it down. Am I off-base for wondering where have gone the conversations about theology, God and our love of Jesus? I ask myself what I always ask of others: 'What else is going on here?'

That answer is for another post, another time.

Requiat, the Rev'd John Crocker, Jr.

Johnny Crocker, rector at Trinity, Princeton, while I attended, died on 30 December. His full obit is here.

Johnny had a profound influence on my understanding of how the church engages with the world. He was a civil rights activist, an anti-nuclear proliferation advocate and an advocate for the church addressing the wrongs of society rather than holing up inside the building in prayer.

May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Four months

Four months ago, the worst of Irene had struck our beloved state of Vermont. These scenes had already taken place: Rte 4 had already washed out in Mendon, Rutland was flooded and there was so much we did not know.

Irene barrelled through Vermont a week after I resigned because I had finally extracted from the wardens that they would not call me as rector.

As Vermont Public Radio has had an update today on where things are for people affected by Irene, I realise that in my own way, I have been carrying all this stuff on my heart.

No wonder I am sad every time I drive into Plymouth Union and see the wreckage caused by Irene. I think of Sue, whose house was destroyed by the brook that ran by it [in picture; she put up the 'house for sale' sign as a joke]. I think of the elderly couple in the house two over whose house was condemned. And I think of the people down the road whose house still stands but the first floor needs total gutting.

My situation is so minor in the great scheme of things. But it is inextricably woven into the story of Irene. Thus, the retrospectives throw me back to those last days of August which were so crazy.

Useful advice for clergy leaving cures

From the Episcopal Diocese of New York


Relating After You Leave

Arrange for change of address and mail forwarding.

After your last day, do not return to the office to check for mail, e-mail, or phone messages.

In all cases, the responsibility belongs to clergy leaving to make clear that the pastoral relationship has ended.

Never be involved with the search process including giving names or offering opinions about candidates.

Avoid getting triangulated with members of the congregation and your successor.

Be clear that it is not appropriate for you to discuss any parish business after you leave.

Make plans to worship with another congregation.

In the absence of a rector or interim pastor, the wardens are canonically responsible for the worship, finance, property, and administration of the parish.

Remember, you have no official or canonical role in the parish you leave and your priestly, pastoral, and administrative functions end on the effective date of your retirement or resignation.

+++

Some think the separation is 'shunning' but it is necessary. Check out the related article over at the Lead.

Hands

Two totally different moments today...

Anointing two people for healing,
holding hands with eight other people
around the two who asked for prayers of healing,
looking at the wonderful weave of our hands
surrounding them,
holding them in prayer,
some hands touching them,
others connected through someone else's hands,
but all in all a tapestry of handful prayer.

Three hours later
alone in the sacristy
one of my last quiet times there,
taking the ashes of someone
who will be buried tomorrow
in the memorial garden,
gently pulling the bag out of the
cardboard box in which they arrived
at the church
so that I can put most of them
into the marble box that we
use for everyone
from which we pour the ashes
into the ground,
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust,
yet even at the grave we make our song,
Alleluia, Alleluia.

Healing.
Death.
Resurrection.

The quotidian life of a parish priest.

I am going to miss it
for this season
however long it is going to
be.

Winding down the clock

The office now looks like this.

And the exterior and interior landscapes look like this.

Pre exit interview, I burned some incense and lit candles for help. The burner will go with me; the candles can remain.

Tomorrow, the last 8.00 and 9.00 services.

Here we go again

Packing up the office first... I have to be out of it by the 21st. Books are sorted according to liturgical year. I don't need A or C; B is under the box labelled A. Commentaries that have all three years are in the box labelled A, B, C. I am trying hard to label well boxes so that if I don't see the contents for a year, I know what is in them. I have so, so far to go... in two months... to where? Dunno.

Anyone who comes into my office has to trip over the boxes. It is on purpose.

Three years ago to the date, I was in the process of moving. I wasn't anticipating really on having to move three years later, though the possibility always lurked in the back of my mind.

Am I happy? No. Are the cats happy? They don't really know yet.

[I am getting a lot of the spinnning beachball of death tonight.]

Here we go again

Into gradual semi-controlled chaos... cela va vite dégringoler dans la pagaïe.

The view from my desk to the left corner of the office

To my right

To my left

And what I look at most of the time as it is straight ahead.

All this stuff will have to be packed up and moved... a rocking chair, four chairs, the Afghan saddle bags, the material, the stuff on the wall, the rug in front of my desk, the rug in the chapel... the office will revert to a fairly drab state. But that won't happen just yet.

Meanwhile...

The first of the many, many boxes there will be... these are for long-term storage, most likely in the attic over our garage where there are mice.

Four piles: immediate use wherever, semi-storage, long-term storage and give away.

I feel as though I just did this.

Church life

This is for real in response to our sexton writing a state wildlife technician.

'Thank you for allowing me to investigate the bats you have in the Episcopal Church.'

I could stop here and leave this line standing by itself because it lends itself to all manner of absurdities. But here's the rest of the letter.

I confirmed that the guano is from Big Brown Bats. Though this species is not listed as endangered, all of Vermont's hibernating bat species have suffered great losses from white-nose syndrome so anything we can do to help them makes a big difference.

After speaking with other biologists, I can also confirm that it is not unusual to find dead bats after a particularly hot spell during a time when the young are just starting to fly for the first time. This seems consistent with what you are finding. As for the location that you are seeing these dead bats, it may be the area that they actually enter and exit the building. This could be confirmed by watching the eaves by the two walls you showed me at dusk (between 8.40 and 9PM these days) to see if bats come out. Based on what I saw today, I suspect you have a scattering of resident males living at the church, rather than a large concentrated colony of breeding females.

Thank you for your concern. I am pasting some links to exclusion techniques and bat house installation guidelines below. How does the church feel about having a few bats there?

Let me know if you have any questions and thanks again.....

Have at it.

The electronic tether

During CPE so many years ago, two decades ago mas or menos, I hated having the pager because it would beep, calling me to some emergency, usually someone dying or who had died... I never knew if it would go off; in fact, on my days of carrying it, the thing only went off once. Lo, these many years later, I probably would do better.

Nowadays there is a new sort of pager in a different context and it is called a smart phone... the old cell phone was not nearly as invasive, though it could be sometimes. The smart phone, however, can totally upset one's life no matter where one is (that is, if one is dumb enough to check email).

Yesterday, en route to the beach with my family on a two-day break to visit with my sister from the west and nephew from the big city, I happened to check my email to get a note related to work that was sufficiently problematic as to upset the emotional balance for the rest of the day. And, so, even though the day was glorious at the beach, and I enjoyed walking down the beach with my sister and nephew and then standing in the water (jellyfish so I did not swim), inside, I was totally off-kilter, worried and anxious. Said problem will not be resolved until next week at the earliest so I will continue to be in that state of flux.

And then there was talking to the canon to the ordinary as I drove down to my parents', and fielding frantic phone messages from parishioners in distress...

Lest anyone think that part-time priests don't earn their keep, let me remind them of the electronic tether.

Good Friday

As I washed the bare altar tonight at the close of our Maundy Thursday liturgy, I thought of the 13th station in Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem. It's a large slab of marble and, as you can see, people are venerating it, placing religious articles on it (extra dollop of prayer) and praying. The photo does not really show all the votive holders strung above it. It was a madhouse the first time I saw it, perhaps because it was a Sunday. It commemorates the stone on which Jesus' body was washed after he was taken down from the cross of Golgatha (the rock on which it stood up some very narrow and steep stairs as the 12th and 13th stations, depending on whether you are of the Eastern or Western Church — such is the complicated nature of the church).

In any event, I thought of this slab as I poured wine on the horns of the altar and in the middle, letting the wine puddle on the inlaid crosses and then poured water on the wine puddles to let it all comingle before washing the altar clean and then kissing it before I leave, praying that it remain holy before we return to it.

There are moments when my heart breaks during the Maundy Thursday liturgy and this is one of them. I also am so hit by the words of institution on this night because I know that I cannot preside at the Eucharist again until the Great Vigil of Easter. We enter this barren landscape year after year. I would not have it any other way either.

Plus ça change...

From an article on censure in today's NYT:

Violence was hardly routine in 19th-century Congressional disputes, but there was enough to make it interesting. In 1856*, as divisions over slavery intensified, Representatives Preston S. Brooks and Laurence M. Keitt, Democrats of South Carolina, strode to the Senate, and Mr. Brooks severely caned Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts, an anti-slavery Republican.

When other senators tried to intervene, Mr. Keitt brandished a pistol and shouted: “Let them be.” Mr. Brooks survived an expulsion vote and resigned his seat. Mr. Keitt resigned to protest his censure. Both were re-elected — Mr. Brooks with a supply of new canes sent by constituents.

In 1858, Mr. Keitt started a donnybrook on the House floor. After an exchange of insults in a debate over the admission of Kansas as a slave state, he leaped up and tried to throttle Representative Galusha A. Grow, Republican of Pennsylvania. Supporters on both sides jumped into the fray, and a melee involving dozens of congressmen broke out.

The speaker shouted in vain for order. The sergeant-at-arms rushed in. Representative Cadwallader Washburn of Wisconsin tried to grab Representative William Barksdale of Mississippi by the hair, but came away with a toupee. Mr. Barksdale retrieved his wig, but put it on backward, and the fighting ended as both sides dissolved in laughter.

* the year of the consecration of the church building where I formerly served...

Post millennial blues

We all thought the world was going to collapse with the Y2K change. But here we still are ten years later. What is changing is that the world is becoming more and more conservative. I dread to think of where it will be in another ten years.

In today's paper: Catholic Bishops Elect Dolan

'The election consolidates the gradual shift in leadership and priorities for the bishops conference. From the 1970’s through the 1990’s, the conference was a center for progressive Catholicism in a distinctly American guise, releasing ambitious teaching documents on issues such as economic inequality, workers rights, the environment, peace and war. While the bishops still do take up issues such as immigration and poverty, they are far more focused on shaping public policy to stop abortion and prevent the legalization of marriage between same-sex couples.'

Yup, it is way, way more important to regulate the expressions of human sexuality (i.e., one would not have to deal with abortion if contraception were permitted in this value system).

In this day and age, The Episcopal Church can no longer count on disaffected Catholics crossing the street. They walk out the door to become part of the great de-churched alumni/ae association because institutional religion is seen to be too bigoted. We've got an archbishop across the pond in England who is trying to emulate the Roman hierarchy while making Anglicans into confessing people. And he is trying, through the dint of repetition, to create ex nihilo the Anglican 'Church,' as though this communion is a monolithic church rather than the collection of provincial expressions throughout the world. Then there is this proposed covenant which should never have gained traction but it still seems to have a life of its own.

We have so much work to do.

But will there still be a church?

Or is the millennium a decade or two behind in arriving for the millennialists?

Back to normal

[the Burlington Free Press]

And, alas, I did not really get to profit from this nice weather. All-day meeting Saturday, all-day church yesterday, Friday getting ready for the weekend, Thursday, all day inside working. Phooey.

What is on deck for us

Hope this doesn't gum up tomorrow night's big gala of gratitude dinner at church.

How true

This is all I can muster but I like it, snagged from somewhere on Facebook.

I am getting ready to head off to the next CREDO Kouraj pou Vwayaj la Ayati which begins this coming Monday in Santo Domingo. Lots to do and of course as I head off all sorts of things are flying onto my desk at church. (It's the usual: Oh my God, she's going away... let's get anxious.)

Hot days in the summer

Even at 1800 feet it is now 81 degrees out. Vermont will have hotter temperatures than Florida. There is something wrong when Vermont is in the 'red' zone on the weather map.

I am in a total do-nothing frame of mind. Actually, the mind is not even engaged today.

Perhaps this sluggishness is a delayed reaction to the CREDO week with the clergy of Haiti; perhaps is it delayed reaction to the spring; perhaps it is the knowledge that I will not be going to El Salvador in three weeks as I had hoped to. For whatever reason, my focus is nill.

There are a gazillion things to be done. No doubt about it. But not now. There's a hammock outside and despite the heat, there is a slight breeze.

But one thought I have been chewing...

As of 30 June, the church I serve has helped the same number of people as it had last year by 1 November. We are that much ahead in the calendar year. And the stream of seekers is never-ending. We are across the street from the bus station and they logically come to us first. We have a set of procedures that involves sending them to a clearing agency. Some people accept that process; most do not. We keep a spread-sheet of whom we have helped because there are some 'frequent fliers' who will call up, not leave their name but want to speak with me thinking they can get around the process. I am getting to know them by name.

Whether it is the semi-hysterical 20-something or the 71 year-old, the stories are different, but the needs the same: food, housing, jobs. Some want flat-out hand-outs, others want to keep their dignity by offering to work.

Why is this flow of people so numbing? And why do I have a harder time with it here than in El Salvador? I don't really have any good answers other than I expect this sort of poverty in El Salvador (or Haiti or Guatemala or...) where the system is more broken. But should I realise just how broken our system is?

Yes. The residents of the city where I now live voted against extra funding for the local bus that gives people on very limited income transportation; against extra funding for the battered women's shelter; against a proposed youth center; against extra money for the community cupboard; against extra money for mental health services, but did vote to add money for senior services. When these votes came through, I groaned because the message was clear: let the churches and other non-profits pick up the slack.

Yet we, too, are like Hans Brinker, doing what we can but not nearly enough.

I think being on the front lines in this way is probably the hardest aspect of this vocation. I still am not at peace with it. I doubt I ever will.

The old haunting grounds

The people across the street of where I used to live took these photos of an amazing rainbow a couple of weeks ago. They used a low resolution camera so the photos are minute but they still give a good idea of how beautiful the rainbow was.


The rectory where the pot of gold lies (the gold needed to maintain the house!).


How perfect can it get?


'I shall set my bow in the sky....'

Scenes from the consecration

Just a few photos for teasers....


Two Rev'd Dr Canon Executive Council members=trouble or plotting resurrection



With the rector of the congregation where I grew up (i.e., I was there long before he was...) and where my mother still attends


Meeting Dr Jenny Te Paa of New Zealand, an amazing person


The 15th Bishop Diocesan of Connecticut flanked by two Executive Council members, present and former

More later.