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Wisdom and Fear
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?
Psalm 27:1
Sometimes I worry about the “what-ifs” of life. Very few, if any, “what ifs” ever happen. But, when I start to worry, I turn to Psalm 27. It was written in Hebrew, around the year 1000 BCE, by King David. Musician, shepherd, and king, he united the tribes of Israel and began the construction of the first temple in Jerusalem. When I think about the first verse of psalm 27, wisdom comes to mind. I get the sense that the author has been through some rough times and has found the Lord to be his light and strength. It also tells me that this passage was written by someone who wasn’t certain of the future – he had his own “what ifs” – but he was certain about this: the Lord is his light and strength.
It is said there is a difference between saying the Lord is light and the Lord is my light. God is a personal God. We can believe and say anything about God; but, when it comes down to it, we decide who is our light; who is our strength. David believed it was the Lord. Wisdom brings us the knowledge that we are a part of something bigger. King David could have taken all the credit for uniting Israel and starting the most important construction project in history. But, as a testimony, his psalm says the light and the strength are of the Lord. Wisdom shows him he is a part of something bigger and therefore to not worry about the “what ifs”.
The light David spoke of is, in my experience, the type of light that finds us in the dark and refuses to leave us there. It is the light that I felt while sitting in the shadow of death visiting with my father for the last (earthly) time. It’s the light that joins us in sorrow and grief but will not let us stay there. Wisdom is counting on the light finding us and never leaving.
Of whom shall I fear? There are two Hebrew words for fear – yirah and pachad. This passage has both. Yirah often points to fear as reverence, respect and awe. Pachad is a gut-clenching, trembling fear of danger or punishment.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I yirah?
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I pachad?
The first line – who shall I yirah – is a question answered by the One who is Light and Salvation. We offer reverence, respect and awe for life and light from the One who Was, and Is, and Will Be. In the second line, the question asked is one that David asked (over three thousand years ago) and we are still asking today – of what do you have a gut-clenching, trembling fear? King David is asking us to name what we are afraid of. Once named, he invites us to read the first line again. Since the Lord is my light and salvation, what am I really fearing? The answer: nothing, I pachad nothing.
Let’s say your greatest pachad is the volatile stock market. Can one offer respect, reverence and awe to God and, at the same time, be afraid of the stock market. David would say no. The Light finds you in darkness and will not leave you there. If your pachad is your health, political instability, the housing market, or death; King David is inviting us to not focus on the “what-ifs” of life but instead to follow the One who gives light and strength. Even in death, the Lord will lead us with his light, so, let us have no fear – except reverence and awe – and let go of the what ifs of life.
- Fr. Dave
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?
Psalm 27:1
Sometimes I worry about the “what-ifs” of life. Very few, if any, “what ifs” ever happen. But, when I start to worry, I turn to Psalm 27. It was written in Hebrew, around the year 1000 BCE, by King David. Musician, shepherd, and king, he united the tribes of Israel and began the construction of the first temple in Jerusalem. When I think about the first verse of psalm 27, wisdom comes to mind. I get the sense that the author has been through some rough times and has found the Lord to be his light and strength. It also tells me that this passage was written by someone who wasn’t certain of the future – he had his own “what ifs” – but he was certain about this: the Lord is his light and strength.
It is said there is a difference between saying the Lord is light and the Lord is my light. God is a personal God. We can believe and say anything about God; but, when it comes down to it, we decide who is our light; who is our strength. David believed it was the Lord. Wisdom brings us the knowledge that we are a part of something bigger. King David could have taken all the credit for uniting Israel and starting the most important construction project in history. But, as a testimony, his psalm says the light and the strength are of the Lord. Wisdom shows him he is a part of something bigger and therefore to not worry about the “what ifs”.
The light David spoke of is, in my experience, the type of light that finds us in the dark and refuses to leave us there. It is the light that I felt while sitting in the shadow of death visiting with my father for the last (earthly) time. It’s the light that joins us in sorrow and grief but will not let us stay there. Wisdom is counting on the light finding us and never leaving.
Of whom shall I fear? There are two Hebrew words for fear – yirah and pachad. This passage has both. Yirah often points to fear as reverence, respect and awe. Pachad is a gut-clenching, trembling fear of danger or punishment.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I yirah?
The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I pachad?
The first line – who shall I yirah – is a question answered by the One who is Light and Salvation. We offer reverence, respect and awe for life and light from the One who Was, and Is, and Will Be. In the second line, the question asked is one that David asked (over three thousand years ago) and we are still asking today – of what do you have a gut-clenching, trembling fear? King David is asking us to name what we are afraid of. Once named, he invites us to read the first line again. Since the Lord is my light and salvation, what am I really fearing? The answer: nothing, I pachad nothing.
Let’s say your greatest pachad is the volatile stock market. Can one offer respect, reverence and awe to God and, at the same time, be afraid of the stock market. David would say no. The Light finds you in darkness and will not leave you there. If your pachad is your health, political instability, the housing market, or death; King David is inviting us to not focus on the “what-ifs” of life but instead to follow the One who gives light and strength. Even in death, the Lord will lead us with his light, so, let us have no fear – except reverence and awe – and let go of the what ifs of life.
- Fr. Dave
Thirty
In my sermon this past week, I said that in my mind’s eye, I see Jesus as a fifty-year old rabbi of Palestinian descent. Although Hollywood often hires actors in their early thirties to portray him, I think Jesus was one of the oldest people in the room and was twenty years (or more) older than the disciples.
One way to live into our mission of bringing the Living Christ to those inside and outside the church is to post our service and video “shorts” online for people outside the church to engage with. My imagining of Jesus being a fifty-year old Palestinian Rabbi has generated a negative comment. The viewer wrote, “This is so dumb. Luke 3:23 says that Jesus was 30 when he started his ministry.” Here is my reply: Luke was most likely following the Hebrew Scripture approach of "30" being the time that one begins what they are called to do for the Lord. King David was "30" when he started his reign. Likewise, Jesus was "30". It's probably not about his birth to that day – like thirty years old – but rather a time of transition or beginning of ministry.
Here is the first sentence of the viewer’s reply to my reply: In no sense can this be taken figuratively, because Christ, as the perfect High Priest, had to fulfill the Law perfectly.
Anglican theology believes that two people can read the same passage of Scripture and have two different interpretations. For this viewer, fulfilling the law “perfectly” would be to begin his ministry when he was thirty. For me “thirty” is a way of expressing a beginning but not an actual birthdate. The Bible is full of numbers. The question is how to interpret them. “Rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.” (Gen 7:12) “The Israelites traveled in the wilderness for forty years.” (Joshua 5:6) “Forty” is mentioned more than 145 times in the Bible. “Thirty” is mentioned over 170 times. “Twelve” is mentioned over 180 times. Thirty, forty, and twelve are important numbers; are they exact numbers or are they symbolic?
I think they are all symbolic and sometimes they are exact. The big question, however, is what does it mean to us, today? Symbolically speaking, I was “30” when I was ordained in the Episcopal Church because it was the beginning of my ordained life and nothing about my life would be the same. My driver’s license, however, showed that I was 37 years old. If I had been ordained when my license showed I was thirty years old, I would not be the same priest I am today because I wasn’t ready. My friend, Deacon Tom, was “30” when he was ordained but his license said he was 62. Bishop Scharf was “30” at the start of his ministry but in terms of earth years he was 27. Perhaps Jesus was ready when he was 30-years old, but the world was not.
Unity of the Holy Spirit is that we are all “30” when our work of ministry begins; our actual age, however, will vary. The Altar Guild is transitioning in leadership from Ginny Upshaw to Linda Fletcher. For us at All Angels, Linda has turned 30 because it’s when her leadership in ministry begins. Her actual age, however, is different. Abraham was 30 when he heard the Lord call him to a new land. His actual age was substantially different.
The viewer and I are united in our belief that Jesus is the perfect High Priest. We believe he started his ministry and that it is ongoing. We also (probably) believe that Scripture is all that is necessary for salvation and that it is the Word of God. That unifies us in belief, faith and hope. The rest are just numbers.
- Fr. Dave
One way to live into our mission of bringing the Living Christ to those inside and outside the church is to post our service and video “shorts” online for people outside the church to engage with. My imagining of Jesus being a fifty-year old Palestinian Rabbi has generated a negative comment. The viewer wrote, “This is so dumb. Luke 3:23 says that Jesus was 30 when he started his ministry.” Here is my reply: Luke was most likely following the Hebrew Scripture approach of "30" being the time that one begins what they are called to do for the Lord. King David was "30" when he started his reign. Likewise, Jesus was "30". It's probably not about his birth to that day – like thirty years old – but rather a time of transition or beginning of ministry.
Here is the first sentence of the viewer’s reply to my reply: In no sense can this be taken figuratively, because Christ, as the perfect High Priest, had to fulfill the Law perfectly.
Anglican theology believes that two people can read the same passage of Scripture and have two different interpretations. For this viewer, fulfilling the law “perfectly” would be to begin his ministry when he was thirty. For me “thirty” is a way of expressing a beginning but not an actual birthdate. The Bible is full of numbers. The question is how to interpret them. “Rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights.” (Gen 7:12) “The Israelites traveled in the wilderness for forty years.” (Joshua 5:6) “Forty” is mentioned more than 145 times in the Bible. “Thirty” is mentioned over 170 times. “Twelve” is mentioned over 180 times. Thirty, forty, and twelve are important numbers; are they exact numbers or are they symbolic?
I think they are all symbolic and sometimes they are exact. The big question, however, is what does it mean to us, today? Symbolically speaking, I was “30” when I was ordained in the Episcopal Church because it was the beginning of my ordained life and nothing about my life would be the same. My driver’s license, however, showed that I was 37 years old. If I had been ordained when my license showed I was thirty years old, I would not be the same priest I am today because I wasn’t ready. My friend, Deacon Tom, was “30” when he was ordained but his license said he was 62. Bishop Scharf was “30” at the start of his ministry but in terms of earth years he was 27. Perhaps Jesus was ready when he was 30-years old, but the world was not.
Unity of the Holy Spirit is that we are all “30” when our work of ministry begins; our actual age, however, will vary. The Altar Guild is transitioning in leadership from Ginny Upshaw to Linda Fletcher. For us at All Angels, Linda has turned 30 because it’s when her leadership in ministry begins. Her actual age, however, is different. Abraham was 30 when he heard the Lord call him to a new land. His actual age was substantially different.
The viewer and I are united in our belief that Jesus is the perfect High Priest. We believe he started his ministry and that it is ongoing. We also (probably) believe that Scripture is all that is necessary for salvation and that it is the Word of God. That unifies us in belief, faith and hope. The rest are just numbers.
- Fr. Dave
Theopoetic
I like to read books on vacation. On our most recent cruise, over the New Years holiday, I was given a fiction book which was not a murder mystery and yet I enjoyed it (Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan). I also like to read heavy theological tomes that I don’t have the patience or time to ponder during the work week. For this vacation, I read, Is It God's Will: Making Sense of Tragedy, Luck, and Hope in a World Gone Wrong by Brandon Ambrosino. Written in 2025, the book grapples with suffering and divine providence, exploring God's role as a sustainer of love and hope, not just a controller of events.
In that book, the author self-describes as a “theopoetic”. Theo means God. Poetic means “making” through artistic creation – using words and art to express lived experience. The word is common in English as “poetry”. Poets were considered “makers” which is a concept that now extends to all arts; most recently to “film makers” (kinemato-poetic).
While on vacation I had an epiphany that I am a theopoetic. I use words and metaphor to describe the awe and wonder of God. St. John of the Cross and many other theologians asserted that God is transcendent and therefore unknowable. In response to their Theo-critique, those of us who identify as theopoetics use words and art to “make” God knowable and relatable.
The Bible exists because of theopoetics. Abraham experienced God and someone expressed it in words. Moses experienced God, in some unique and unexpected ways, and people expressed his lived experience in words that later created some of the world’s most profound art (and inspired Cecil b. DeMille to make the epic movie The Ten Commandments in 1956).
We have a parishioner – who retired from a 42-year newspaper career – who was badly injured by a fall over the New Years holiday. After substantial medical procedures, he is now recovering well. When I visited him this past week, I took his hands and saw that he was beaming with joy. Some might see his fall as a tragedy and wonder where God is in times of suffering. But, in his theopoetical way his smile expressed to me that God is working with, and through, and in him.
The Bible helps us, theopoetically, to get a sense of the Divine in suffering. Every person in the Bible suffered. Yet, the words of the Bible show us that suffering is not the end. Moses suffered humiliation and defeat. He was alone, tending sheep that were not his in a foreign land. Yet, God spoke to him through a bush that was burning yet not consumed by the flame. God, in His theopoetical way, expressed to Moses that he was seen, heard, forgiven, loved and that God had a nearly unimaginable plan for him. As a result of God’s theopoetical way, as the One who sustains love and hope, Moses headed out to set his people free from bondage.
I think you have the choice to be a theopoetic too (without having to see a burning bush). Choosing to sustain love by expressions of welcome to others, and saying kind words, are making Theo known. If you choose to express hope, even in times of suffering, by helping others, you too will be joining in making God known through words, art and expression.
- Fr. Dave
In that book, the author self-describes as a “theopoetic”. Theo means God. Poetic means “making” through artistic creation – using words and art to express lived experience. The word is common in English as “poetry”. Poets were considered “makers” which is a concept that now extends to all arts; most recently to “film makers” (kinemato-poetic).
While on vacation I had an epiphany that I am a theopoetic. I use words and metaphor to describe the awe and wonder of God. St. John of the Cross and many other theologians asserted that God is transcendent and therefore unknowable. In response to their Theo-critique, those of us who identify as theopoetics use words and art to “make” God knowable and relatable.
The Bible exists because of theopoetics. Abraham experienced God and someone expressed it in words. Moses experienced God, in some unique and unexpected ways, and people expressed his lived experience in words that later created some of the world’s most profound art (and inspired Cecil b. DeMille to make the epic movie The Ten Commandments in 1956).
We have a parishioner – who retired from a 42-year newspaper career – who was badly injured by a fall over the New Years holiday. After substantial medical procedures, he is now recovering well. When I visited him this past week, I took his hands and saw that he was beaming with joy. Some might see his fall as a tragedy and wonder where God is in times of suffering. But, in his theopoetical way his smile expressed to me that God is working with, and through, and in him.
The Bible helps us, theopoetically, to get a sense of the Divine in suffering. Every person in the Bible suffered. Yet, the words of the Bible show us that suffering is not the end. Moses suffered humiliation and defeat. He was alone, tending sheep that were not his in a foreign land. Yet, God spoke to him through a bush that was burning yet not consumed by the flame. God, in His theopoetical way, expressed to Moses that he was seen, heard, forgiven, loved and that God had a nearly unimaginable plan for him. As a result of God’s theopoetical way, as the One who sustains love and hope, Moses headed out to set his people free from bondage.
I think you have the choice to be a theopoetic too (without having to see a burning bush). Choosing to sustain love by expressions of welcome to others, and saying kind words, are making Theo known. If you choose to express hope, even in times of suffering, by helping others, you too will be joining in making God known through words, art and expression.
- Fr. Dave
Humility and Simplicity, Part 2
Last week I wrote to you about the Franciscan practice of humility. Today I am writing to you about humility’s twin – simplicity. Before we jump into simplicity, let’s recap humility. It is a chosen path of modesty and recognizing your worth without exercising arrogance. Some would say it is thinking of yourself less, not thinking less of yourself. Humility frees us to see everything as a gift from God. Breath in your lungs, the beauty of this day, love in your heart and friendships – each one, through humility, is seen as a gift from God.
Inner simplicity is the life-long spiritual practice of releasing emotional clutter. One way to start is to consider the emotional strings that bind your soul. Many will start with their attachment to judgement and blame. How often do you judge yourself with the phrase, “I should have.” I should have known better. I should have done this or not done that. I should have been better at this by now. Each one of those “should-haves” is a judgement that binds the soul. The companion phrase to I-should-have is he/she should have. You can add the phrase, “known better”, “Done (or not done) that”, “be better by now”. Judgement and blame can be leveled at a medical doctor, a professor, a family member or even the stranger driving the car in front of you. These little strings of judgement and blame are sometimes too light to be felt until they are too strong to be broken without intention. Simplicity is the intentional practice of cutting your soul free from each one.
This past year I preached about the book Let Them by Mel Robbins. She exemplifies simplicity, in how to release oneself from judgement and blame, with this two-word phrase: let them. Her philosophy is to let go of external expectations of others and to focus on what you can control. Simplicity/humility teaches us that one can control one’s own actions; you cannot control what others do. “Let them” is an invitation to release yourself from judging others – because you cannot control their behavior – and to consider what you have control over.
Simplicity – releasing oneself from judgement and blame – will help us to find appreciation for the small wonders of daily life. I practiced this one day on the way home from All Angels. The car in front of me was consistently driving below the speed limit on the Tamiami. Not surprisingly, we missed the green light by the airport. I had been writing this piece and decided to practice letting go of the judgement and blame I had placed on the driver in front of me (he should have gone the speed limit so we didn’t miss the light!). As soon as I replaced the “should have” with this thought: let them drive below the speed limit, I noticed a drop of water on the windshield that I was not aware of before. The low afternoon sun, shining through the drop, created a rainbow bubble that was about the size of a dress shirt button. I stared at it with awe. Inside of that drop of water was every color imaginable in creation. All of them. Those colors were the same yesterday and will be the same always. Had I not stopped at that light, I would not have been in awe of God’s creation in its simplicity and majesty and its changelessness.
There is a simplicity to faith that brings joy. If we can release judgement and blame that binds our soul, we will allow ourselves to be free to see the simple wonders in daily life. Humility will help us to see our place in creation and to think less often of ourselves and to instead find appreciation for being included in this vast and beautiful creation.
-Fr. Dave
Inner simplicity is the life-long spiritual practice of releasing emotional clutter. One way to start is to consider the emotional strings that bind your soul. Many will start with their attachment to judgement and blame. How often do you judge yourself with the phrase, “I should have.” I should have known better. I should have done this or not done that. I should have been better at this by now. Each one of those “should-haves” is a judgement that binds the soul. The companion phrase to I-should-have is he/she should have. You can add the phrase, “known better”, “Done (or not done) that”, “be better by now”. Judgement and blame can be leveled at a medical doctor, a professor, a family member or even the stranger driving the car in front of you. These little strings of judgement and blame are sometimes too light to be felt until they are too strong to be broken without intention. Simplicity is the intentional practice of cutting your soul free from each one.
This past year I preached about the book Let Them by Mel Robbins. She exemplifies simplicity, in how to release oneself from judgement and blame, with this two-word phrase: let them. Her philosophy is to let go of external expectations of others and to focus on what you can control. Simplicity/humility teaches us that one can control one’s own actions; you cannot control what others do. “Let them” is an invitation to release yourself from judging others – because you cannot control their behavior – and to consider what you have control over.
Simplicity – releasing oneself from judgement and blame – will help us to find appreciation for the small wonders of daily life. I practiced this one day on the way home from All Angels. The car in front of me was consistently driving below the speed limit on the Tamiami. Not surprisingly, we missed the green light by the airport. I had been writing this piece and decided to practice letting go of the judgement and blame I had placed on the driver in front of me (he should have gone the speed limit so we didn’t miss the light!). As soon as I replaced the “should have” with this thought: let them drive below the speed limit, I noticed a drop of water on the windshield that I was not aware of before. The low afternoon sun, shining through the drop, created a rainbow bubble that was about the size of a dress shirt button. I stared at it with awe. Inside of that drop of water was every color imaginable in creation. All of them. Those colors were the same yesterday and will be the same always. Had I not stopped at that light, I would not have been in awe of God’s creation in its simplicity and majesty and its changelessness.
There is a simplicity to faith that brings joy. If we can release judgement and blame that binds our soul, we will allow ourselves to be free to see the simple wonders in daily life. Humility will help us to see our place in creation and to think less often of ourselves and to instead find appreciation for being included in this vast and beautiful creation.
-Fr. Dave
Humility & Simplicity, Part I
I wrote to you about the Benedictine spiritual practices of stability, conversion and obedience. Franciscan spirituality developed roughly 700 years later and focuses on two principles: humility and simplicity. Similar to stability-conversion-obedience, humility and simplicity are twins; they are woven together to make a tapestry of life-long faith. I’m going to explore these with you this week and next in the Reflection. If you are seeking freedom from fear, and the constant changes of life that pull us one way and then the next, this series about humility and simplicity is for you.
Humility, according to St. Francis, is knowing our place in creation. According to God’s created order, our place is as stewards of creation. Francis believed that true humility is recognizing these three principles: We are nothing without creation. We are nothing without God. We have a place – a job to do – in the order. Humility is recognizing that all we have (especially that for which we take for granted) is a gift from God.
There is a big difference between humility and humiliation. Humility is a chosen path of modesty and recognizing your worth without exercising arrogance. Some would say it is thinking of yourself less, not thinking less of yourself. Humiliation, on the other hand, is a negative, imposed feeling of embarrassment that takes away dignity. In other words, being made to feel like we are nothing. Humility is recognizing we have a place in God’s order and, as such, we are something.
St. Francis’s humility is the intentional spiritual practice of recognizing everything we have is a gift from God. The air you are breathing is a gift from God. Your digestive system. The beating of your heart. Gravity. Everything is a gift from God. We depend on it. Without it, we’re nothing.
Francis highlights the things we take for granted, like gravity, air, our circulatory and digestive system. If you’ve ever run out of, or had trouble with, any of those, you’ll have a deeper sense of Franciscan spirituality. My friend from High School, Geoff, has recently had his bladder removed because of cancer. He hadn’t really thought much about his digestive and waste elimination system before; but he does now. To grow in gratitude, Francis, the teacher, would not want us to waste the opportunity of a malfunctioning system. For instance, when we get sick, the humble person will take the opportunity to find gratitude in simple things. Conversely, the healthy person must work harder to seek gratitude. Without gratitude, we are nothing.
Do you have a particular spot you like to sit in at church, or at home, or your favorite restaurant? I think we all do. We, as humans, like to know our place. Francis teaches us that our place in creation is as humble stewards and beloved children all within a single, interconnected family of God’s creation. Creation does not create possessions for us to use and discard. Instead, we are to see our place in creation as stewards – harmony creators if you will – and to praise God through our connection to nature. Humility, seeing everything as a gift, and growing in gratitude, will help us to see nature as a mirror of God. A simple walk outdoors will then feel like a gift. Fear of our ever-changing times and finding joy in creation cannot exist at the same time. Joy, rooted in humility with nature, will naturally drive out fear. Taking time to see God reflected in nature, and in ourselves, will release fear of our ever-changing times and bring about joy.
Humility, according to St. Francis, is knowing our place in creation. According to God’s created order, our place is as stewards of creation. Francis believed that true humility is recognizing these three principles: We are nothing without creation. We are nothing without God. We have a place – a job to do – in the order. Humility is recognizing that all we have (especially that for which we take for granted) is a gift from God.
There is a big difference between humility and humiliation. Humility is a chosen path of modesty and recognizing your worth without exercising arrogance. Some would say it is thinking of yourself less, not thinking less of yourself. Humiliation, on the other hand, is a negative, imposed feeling of embarrassment that takes away dignity. In other words, being made to feel like we are nothing. Humility is recognizing we have a place in God’s order and, as such, we are something.
St. Francis’s humility is the intentional spiritual practice of recognizing everything we have is a gift from God. The air you are breathing is a gift from God. Your digestive system. The beating of your heart. Gravity. Everything is a gift from God. We depend on it. Without it, we’re nothing.
Francis highlights the things we take for granted, like gravity, air, our circulatory and digestive system. If you’ve ever run out of, or had trouble with, any of those, you’ll have a deeper sense of Franciscan spirituality. My friend from High School, Geoff, has recently had his bladder removed because of cancer. He hadn’t really thought much about his digestive and waste elimination system before; but he does now. To grow in gratitude, Francis, the teacher, would not want us to waste the opportunity of a malfunctioning system. For instance, when we get sick, the humble person will take the opportunity to find gratitude in simple things. Conversely, the healthy person must work harder to seek gratitude. Without gratitude, we are nothing.
Do you have a particular spot you like to sit in at church, or at home, or your favorite restaurant? I think we all do. We, as humans, like to know our place. Francis teaches us that our place in creation is as humble stewards and beloved children all within a single, interconnected family of God’s creation. Creation does not create possessions for us to use and discard. Instead, we are to see our place in creation as stewards – harmony creators if you will – and to praise God through our connection to nature. Humility, seeing everything as a gift, and growing in gratitude, will help us to see nature as a mirror of God. A simple walk outdoors will then feel like a gift. Fear of our ever-changing times and finding joy in creation cannot exist at the same time. Joy, rooted in humility with nature, will naturally drive out fear. Taking time to see God reflected in nature, and in ourselves, will release fear of our ever-changing times and bring about joy.
Endless Peace
He is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. There shall be endless peace. He will establish and uphold peace with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. Based on Isaiah 9:6-7
This will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. Suddenly a multitude of the angels praising God said, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth.” Luke 2:12-14
This past summer my 15-year-old son and I went on a road trip to the World War II museum in New Orleans. I’d highly recommend a trip to experience it. They do not glorify war; instead, they show the sacrifice that was needed to bring peace.
When Isaiah prophesied endless peace and, more than 700 years later, the angels declared peace to God’s people on earth, it was clear that they were not talking about the end of war on earth. The endless peace is, I believe, internal. Inner peace is most profound when in times of turmoil – like how the stars shine brightest on the darkest night.
Through all the varied and swift changes in our world, the Peace of God is inside of us and guiding us like a star. May you experience that peace and have a Merry Christmas.
- Fr. Dave
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. Based on Isaiah 9:6-7
This will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. Suddenly a multitude of the angels praising God said, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth.” Luke 2:12-14
This past summer my 15-year-old son and I went on a road trip to the World War II museum in New Orleans. I’d highly recommend a trip to experience it. They do not glorify war; instead, they show the sacrifice that was needed to bring peace.
When Isaiah prophesied endless peace and, more than 700 years later, the angels declared peace to God’s people on earth, it was clear that they were not talking about the end of war on earth. The endless peace is, I believe, internal. Inner peace is most profound when in times of turmoil – like how the stars shine brightest on the darkest night.
Through all the varied and swift changes in our world, the Peace of God is inside of us and guiding us like a star. May you experience that peace and have a Merry Christmas.
- Fr. Dave
Men Wholly and Holy
I attended St. Martin’s University, a Benedictine university in western Washington, that has an active monastery. The monks at St. Martin’s have dedicated their lives to the Order of St. Benedict and to the education of the students of St. Martin’s. I am a recipient of their devotion.
Lunch at St. Martin’s is a highlight of the day. One can eat lunch with the Abbot or the President of the university as well as the landscaping crew and professors. I got to know a monk who shared with me about the Order and the stability-conversion-obedience he has dedicated himself to. One day, while eating lunch together with a group of students, a friend asked Br. Andrew about what drew him into the Order of St. Benedict. In typical monastic fashion, he paused, reflected on the question, and then responded with this: My life was chaotic and out of control. I tried everything that I thought would bring stability – workaholism, alcoholism, dating, strict dieting, overeating, excessive workouts – which led to debilitating depression. My therapist, who was in the Order of St. Benedict, suggested I check myself into a five-day stay at a monastery.
The student asked: What happened when you got there? Did you feel the strong pull of God’s love? Br. Andrew chuckled. He responded: No, that’s not what happened. I was given a schedule of labor then prayer then more labor. I was woken up at 4:30 am for morning prayer. Then I pulled weeds until 6 am. Then came Lauds (day prayer). I swept the front walk until Mass was at 7 am. I trimmed trees until Sext (midday prayer). Then a simple meal. More trimming until None (2 pm afternoon prayer). I was given psalms to read and contemplate until Vespers at 5:30. We had a large but simple meal in silence. Then I cleaned the kitchen until 7 pm Compline. After that, I showered and got ready for the next day. Lights out and silence at 8:30 pm. The order of day suddenly brought stability into my life. What had been chaotic had become ordered.
The student asked: So you were a believer before you started? He chuckled again, and replied: No; no I wasn’t a believer when I started. Six months after my five-day stay, I relied on the structure and order. I thought about leaving but realized my life would quickly become chaotic again. Two years, maybe three years later, I found comfort in faith in Christ. I could tell that a presence was with me in labor and in prayer; but, if I can be frank, the Presence is much stronger when I am doing labor than in prayer. I think of my prayer; of my adoration; as a thanksgiving response to the Presence that I feel while doing work for the monastery.
We were all surprised. Here is one of the most holy people we have ever met. We thought he had it all figured out. What he shared with us is that he too is trying to figure it out. His devotion to the Order has brought him stability. We saw his conversion – none of us could imagine him as a workaholic, alcoholic, or dating (or excessively working out). He is a holy man. He, however, did not consider himself that way.
Matthew’s Gospel begins with this: The birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. I consider Joseph to be one of the most holy and dedicated people in the Bible. But, if you had lunch with Joseph, he might tell you he doesn’t consider himself that way. He simply followed in his Jewish tradition of obedience – listening to God – and, as a result, he named the newborn child, Jesus.
Lunch at St. Martin’s is a highlight of the day. One can eat lunch with the Abbot or the President of the university as well as the landscaping crew and professors. I got to know a monk who shared with me about the Order and the stability-conversion-obedience he has dedicated himself to. One day, while eating lunch together with a group of students, a friend asked Br. Andrew about what drew him into the Order of St. Benedict. In typical monastic fashion, he paused, reflected on the question, and then responded with this: My life was chaotic and out of control. I tried everything that I thought would bring stability – workaholism, alcoholism, dating, strict dieting, overeating, excessive workouts – which led to debilitating depression. My therapist, who was in the Order of St. Benedict, suggested I check myself into a five-day stay at a monastery.
The student asked: What happened when you got there? Did you feel the strong pull of God’s love? Br. Andrew chuckled. He responded: No, that’s not what happened. I was given a schedule of labor then prayer then more labor. I was woken up at 4:30 am for morning prayer. Then I pulled weeds until 6 am. Then came Lauds (day prayer). I swept the front walk until Mass was at 7 am. I trimmed trees until Sext (midday prayer). Then a simple meal. More trimming until None (2 pm afternoon prayer). I was given psalms to read and contemplate until Vespers at 5:30. We had a large but simple meal in silence. Then I cleaned the kitchen until 7 pm Compline. After that, I showered and got ready for the next day. Lights out and silence at 8:30 pm. The order of day suddenly brought stability into my life. What had been chaotic had become ordered.
The student asked: So you were a believer before you started? He chuckled again, and replied: No; no I wasn’t a believer when I started. Six months after my five-day stay, I relied on the structure and order. I thought about leaving but realized my life would quickly become chaotic again. Two years, maybe three years later, I found comfort in faith in Christ. I could tell that a presence was with me in labor and in prayer; but, if I can be frank, the Presence is much stronger when I am doing labor than in prayer. I think of my prayer; of my adoration; as a thanksgiving response to the Presence that I feel while doing work for the monastery.
We were all surprised. Here is one of the most holy people we have ever met. We thought he had it all figured out. What he shared with us is that he too is trying to figure it out. His devotion to the Order has brought him stability. We saw his conversion – none of us could imagine him as a workaholic, alcoholic, or dating (or excessively working out). He is a holy man. He, however, did not consider himself that way.
Matthew’s Gospel begins with this: The birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. I consider Joseph to be one of the most holy and dedicated people in the Bible. But, if you had lunch with Joseph, he might tell you he doesn’t consider himself that way. He simply followed in his Jewish tradition of obedience – listening to God – and, as a result, he named the newborn child, Jesus.
Overshadowed
Mary replied to the angel Gabriel, “How can this be?” The angel replied: “The Holy Spirit will come over you and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the one who is to be born will be holy. He will be called God’s Son.”
The week of the third Sunday of Advent is named “joy”. It is the week we take time to focus on Mary, the mother of Jesus. I’ve been thinking about Mary lately. She asks good questions and she likes to ponder before reacting. Those are qualities that make a happier life. Perhaps that is why the third week of Advent is called “joy”.
Mary asked the angel Gabriel, how can it be that I will give birth? She was told the Holy Spirit will overshadow her. The Greek word the Gospel writer Luke used is episkiázōTh. It literally means “to shade”, “to overshadow”, the way a cloud casts a shadow. Usage of “overshadow” is rare in the Bible. Luke used the word in the Book of Acts, when Peter’s shadow covered people as he walked by and they were instantly healed (5:15). Mark used the word in his Gospel to describe the cloud that overcame Peter, James and John at the transfiguration of Jesus (9:7). And, as shown above, it was also used in describing how the virgin will bear a child.
Luke’s Gospel is not simply a report, like a diary or a news show; it also is not poetry that should only be read allegorically. His Gospel is somewhere in-between those two styles. He is reporting on what he has heard and seen. It also has a strong spiritual element that goes much deeper than the detailed description of the events. “Overshadowed” (episkiázōis) is one of those times where the reader gets to engage in the story and ponder it deeply in our own life.
Each person who was overshadowed had a life-changing event. Peter, James and John were with Jesus when suddenly his clothes became dazzling white. As they were pondering this they were overshadowed by a cloud. God spoke to them directly – this is my son, listen to him. The overshadowing changed the trajectory of their life forever. After Jesus’s resurrection and ascension, the apostles lived into the authority and power given them by the Holy Spirit. Crowds would gather along the road to see the Apostle Peter walk by. Luke recorded stories of people who were healed by the shadow of Peter overshadowing them. That healing event also changed the trajectory of their lives.
The biggest overshadow of them all is also the most intimate. Mary was overshadowed... then later gave birth to Jesus. We have no accurate record of what Mary’s life was like before she was overshadowed. What we can imagine, however, is that her life took a sudden and dramatic turn and she was never the same again.
I think overshadowing still occurs. I myself have been overshadowed by becoming a parent and my life was never the same again. Some have been overshadowed when they became grandparents. Others have been overshadowed by a diagnosis. Once they received treatment and healing, their life was never the same again. Pondering the times when we have been overshadowed and have been transformed as a result can be a source of joy. Following in Mary’s footsteps and pattern of life, let us take time this week to ponder when we too have been overshadowed and transformed. May the time of pondering fill us with joy this Advent season.
-Fr. Dave
The week of the third Sunday of Advent is named “joy”. It is the week we take time to focus on Mary, the mother of Jesus. I’ve been thinking about Mary lately. She asks good questions and she likes to ponder before reacting. Those are qualities that make a happier life. Perhaps that is why the third week of Advent is called “joy”.
Mary asked the angel Gabriel, how can it be that I will give birth? She was told the Holy Spirit will overshadow her. The Greek word the Gospel writer Luke used is episkiázōTh. It literally means “to shade”, “to overshadow”, the way a cloud casts a shadow. Usage of “overshadow” is rare in the Bible. Luke used the word in the Book of Acts, when Peter’s shadow covered people as he walked by and they were instantly healed (5:15). Mark used the word in his Gospel to describe the cloud that overcame Peter, James and John at the transfiguration of Jesus (9:7). And, as shown above, it was also used in describing how the virgin will bear a child.
Luke’s Gospel is not simply a report, like a diary or a news show; it also is not poetry that should only be read allegorically. His Gospel is somewhere in-between those two styles. He is reporting on what he has heard and seen. It also has a strong spiritual element that goes much deeper than the detailed description of the events. “Overshadowed” (episkiázōis) is one of those times where the reader gets to engage in the story and ponder it deeply in our own life.
Each person who was overshadowed had a life-changing event. Peter, James and John were with Jesus when suddenly his clothes became dazzling white. As they were pondering this they were overshadowed by a cloud. God spoke to them directly – this is my son, listen to him. The overshadowing changed the trajectory of their life forever. After Jesus’s resurrection and ascension, the apostles lived into the authority and power given them by the Holy Spirit. Crowds would gather along the road to see the Apostle Peter walk by. Luke recorded stories of people who were healed by the shadow of Peter overshadowing them. That healing event also changed the trajectory of their lives.
The biggest overshadow of them all is also the most intimate. Mary was overshadowed... then later gave birth to Jesus. We have no accurate record of what Mary’s life was like before she was overshadowed. What we can imagine, however, is that her life took a sudden and dramatic turn and she was never the same again.
I think overshadowing still occurs. I myself have been overshadowed by becoming a parent and my life was never the same again. Some have been overshadowed when they became grandparents. Others have been overshadowed by a diagnosis. Once they received treatment and healing, their life was never the same again. Pondering the times when we have been overshadowed and have been transformed as a result can be a source of joy. Following in Mary’s footsteps and pattern of life, let us take time this week to ponder when we too have been overshadowed and transformed. May the time of pondering fill us with joy this Advent season.
-Fr. Dave
Obedience
This is the third Reflection about the three-fold Benedictine spirituality of stability, conversion, obedience. According to the Rule of St. Benedict, stability is rooting oneself in community as a rule of life. In his day, like in ours, globalization was making the pace of life accelerate past the tolerance of the human condition. Stability (the placing of oneself in a Christian community centered on prayer, contemplation and praise) is a bulwark against the rapidity of life. By participating in the community of All Angels; whether in person, online, or both; the community becomes a stabilizing factor in your life. With stability comes conversion which was my topic last week. Conversion is like a river rock that is made smooth in community (the river) by transportation along the riverbed (people) and the natural flow of water (the Holy Spirit). Conversion takes time and often is imperceptible to the rock (the person) but is visible to others in time.
Stability and conversion require obedience. According to Benedict, obedience is a spiritual practice of listening intently to God. It is not about following orders. The Latin root of obedience – ob-audiens – means “to listen intently”. One can listen intently to God with stability and conversion. Without the community, one cannot hear or perceive the subtle nudges of God.
I knew a guy in college who didn’t have stability in his life, yet he wanted an answer from God. So, he ran into an open field, flung his arms open wide, and yelled, “God, speak to me!!” All he heard was the gentle breeze blowing through his arms. One of the Benedictine monks from the college saw him standing in the field. He slowly approached the student. The student pleaded with the monk, “Why isn’t God speaking to me.” The monk said, “Because you’re standing in a field. God doesn’t speak out here. He speaks in here,” and pointed to the man’s heart.
Obedience – listening to God with the ears of your heart – is expressed through stability, conversion and meditating on Scripture.
Let’s look at obedience in a different way. Obedience is freedom from self-will. With stability and conversion, one is gently and intentionally released from the bondage of the ego and self-desires. A Benedictine monk told me a phrase he repeats slowly and intentionally when he feels the bondage of his self-desires taking root. It is this: not mine but Thine; not mine but Thine, not mine but Thine.
Scripture shows us that Jesus established this way of life most notably in the garden of Gethsemane right before he was arrested, handed over, and crucified. Our Lord asked Peter, James and John to remain with him and watch with him. (Remain – stability; Watch – conversion) Then, with obedience, Jesus pleaded with God to remove this cup from him. And then he said: Not as I will but as you will.
Because of Jesus’s obedience, we have the freedom today to join in His will. Obedience, in community with stability and conversion, will set us free from the bondage of our own ego and self-desire, by intentionally listening for the still, quiet voice of God with the ears of our heart.
Stability and conversion require obedience. According to Benedict, obedience is a spiritual practice of listening intently to God. It is not about following orders. The Latin root of obedience – ob-audiens – means “to listen intently”. One can listen intently to God with stability and conversion. Without the community, one cannot hear or perceive the subtle nudges of God.
I knew a guy in college who didn’t have stability in his life, yet he wanted an answer from God. So, he ran into an open field, flung his arms open wide, and yelled, “God, speak to me!!” All he heard was the gentle breeze blowing through his arms. One of the Benedictine monks from the college saw him standing in the field. He slowly approached the student. The student pleaded with the monk, “Why isn’t God speaking to me.” The monk said, “Because you’re standing in a field. God doesn’t speak out here. He speaks in here,” and pointed to the man’s heart.
Obedience – listening to God with the ears of your heart – is expressed through stability, conversion and meditating on Scripture.
Let’s look at obedience in a different way. Obedience is freedom from self-will. With stability and conversion, one is gently and intentionally released from the bondage of the ego and self-desires. A Benedictine monk told me a phrase he repeats slowly and intentionally when he feels the bondage of his self-desires taking root. It is this: not mine but Thine; not mine but Thine, not mine but Thine.
Scripture shows us that Jesus established this way of life most notably in the garden of Gethsemane right before he was arrested, handed over, and crucified. Our Lord asked Peter, James and John to remain with him and watch with him. (Remain – stability; Watch – conversion) Then, with obedience, Jesus pleaded with God to remove this cup from him. And then he said: Not as I will but as you will.
Because of Jesus’s obedience, we have the freedom today to join in His will. Obedience, in community with stability and conversion, will set us free from the bondage of our own ego and self-desire, by intentionally listening for the still, quiet voice of God with the ears of our heart.
Conversion
Benedictine spirituality focuses on three principles: stability, conversion, obedience. Last week, I wrote to you about stability. In an ever-accelerating world, the human condition craves stability. Some find stability through always having the television on or playing on their phones. In contrast, Christian spirituality finds stability in investing oneself in community. Rooting oneself into a stable Christian community opens the heart and mind to deepen patience, wisdom and understanding. Stability cultivates deep relationships and the ability to find God in the ordinary which gives us peace and joy.
I’d like to talk to you about the principle of conversion. The 20th Century American Christian church focused on immediate and exuberant conversion – particularly within the television evangelist community. Conversion, for the 19 centuries that came before, was considered to be like how a river rock becomes smooth over time. The rock didn’t wake up one day and decide to become smooth. It takes time to get smooth. The rock needs to be in the river (community) where the water and other rocks bounce into it and make it smooth.
At our clergy retreat on Tuesday night, we sat in a large circle and told stories of our own conversion – in particular, our call to serve God in the ordained life. There were moments when we realized we had a conversion experience, but it was in reflection. Our bishop said that the most common Christian conversion is a passive experience. It is something the Holy Spirit does inside of us – both heart and mind – that happens slowly and often without our awareness. We place ourselves in community, and go about supporting the community, and conversion happens while we are doing the supporting.
Think again of the river rock. The rock sits dormant at the bottom of the river. Water is flowing around it, sometimes moving it, other times bouncing other rocks, bigger and smaller, against it. At some point, it becomes smooth, but it happens at a nearly imperceptible rate. Even though we can’t see it happening from one moment to the next, the fact remains, the rock in the river becomes smooth.
The more time you spend in community at All Angels – whether online or in person – the more the proverbial river water flows and you change from a rough or jagged rock to a smooth river stone. Others in the community are being converted too so it’s hard for us, the other rocks in the river, to see the change because we’re all going through it. Although the change from day to day is imperceptible, the conversion is happening.
Every time you engage in the Prayers of the People, the river water flows around you. When you listen or sing the hymns the river water is flowing. Reading reflections, week after week, and pondering them in your heart creates conversion. When you contribute to the life and community of All Angels, when you help others in need, when you participate in leadership or serve in a small group, the river water flows. Imperceptible, over time, you have a conversion experience. That conversion brings about an inner-stillness and peace that others can see. Although we can’t pin down when it occurs, we do know that it has, is, and will be happening.
- Fr. Dave
I’d like to talk to you about the principle of conversion. The 20th Century American Christian church focused on immediate and exuberant conversion – particularly within the television evangelist community. Conversion, for the 19 centuries that came before, was considered to be like how a river rock becomes smooth over time. The rock didn’t wake up one day and decide to become smooth. It takes time to get smooth. The rock needs to be in the river (community) where the water and other rocks bounce into it and make it smooth.
At our clergy retreat on Tuesday night, we sat in a large circle and told stories of our own conversion – in particular, our call to serve God in the ordained life. There were moments when we realized we had a conversion experience, but it was in reflection. Our bishop said that the most common Christian conversion is a passive experience. It is something the Holy Spirit does inside of us – both heart and mind – that happens slowly and often without our awareness. We place ourselves in community, and go about supporting the community, and conversion happens while we are doing the supporting.
Think again of the river rock. The rock sits dormant at the bottom of the river. Water is flowing around it, sometimes moving it, other times bouncing other rocks, bigger and smaller, against it. At some point, it becomes smooth, but it happens at a nearly imperceptible rate. Even though we can’t see it happening from one moment to the next, the fact remains, the rock in the river becomes smooth.
The more time you spend in community at All Angels – whether online or in person – the more the proverbial river water flows and you change from a rough or jagged rock to a smooth river stone. Others in the community are being converted too so it’s hard for us, the other rocks in the river, to see the change because we’re all going through it. Although the change from day to day is imperceptible, the conversion is happening.
Every time you engage in the Prayers of the People, the river water flows around you. When you listen or sing the hymns the river water is flowing. Reading reflections, week after week, and pondering them in your heart creates conversion. When you contribute to the life and community of All Angels, when you help others in need, when you participate in leadership or serve in a small group, the river water flows. Imperceptible, over time, you have a conversion experience. That conversion brings about an inner-stillness and peace that others can see. Although we can’t pin down when it occurs, we do know that it has, is, and will be happening.
- Fr. Dave
Stability
I am back from a three-day diocesan clergy retreat. A few years ago, I floated an idea by the bishop about creating a Clergy Wellness Team that would assist him with the clergy retreat (and a variety of other activities). He liked the idea and asked me to be on it and invited my two friends, Alex and Michelle, to join. We just had our second retreat together. Luckily, I can work a retreat and get something out of it at the same time.
The theme of this year’s retreat is based on Benedictine spirituality. St. Benedict (480-547) is considered the father of monasticism. He created a rule of life that is alive and well today. For three days, we focused on these three Benedictine principles: stability, conversion, obedience. It’s a matrix so don’t try to put one above the other. Stability requires obedience. Obedience requires conversion. Conversion requires stability. But, for the sake of this reflection, let’s start with stability. It’s hard to live into obedience without stability; the same can be said of conversion. (Next week I’m writing to you about conversion)
The Episcopal Church, and All Angels in particular, represents stability in an ever shifting, accelerating world. I can see joy and contentment on the faces of those who walk up to the church. They are being drawn towards something stable. I presided at a wedding last Saturday. The happy couple didn’t write vows; why would they, we have ancient vows that have been said for just about as long as there have been Christian weddings. That is a deep form of stability – the ancientness and relevance of the words we say. But there is more to stability than the words and praxis of Anglicanism.
Stability is fostering inner stillness and spiritual growth by rooting oneself in a community. From the stability in community, we deepen our capacity for patience, wisdom and understanding. Stability in community cultivates deep relationships and the ability to find God in the ordinary. Peace and joy spring forth from finding God in the ordinary and can be found nowhere else in society (because there are no strings attached to the peace or joy found in a stable community of Christ).
The creators of the Alcoholics Anonymous 12-Step Program took the idea of stability from Benedictine spirituality. Conversion (moving from the insanity of addiction to inner peace) and obedience (working the plan daily) is rooted in the stability of the meeting.
For many at All Angels, the community of our church – whether in person or online – is the stable component in their lives. For the Marshall family, we are moving from our home to our new condo over Thanksgiving week. As we downsize and shift residences, stability comes from our relationship with each other, with God, and the stability of our church community. Our address is changing (three miles closer to Longboat) but our faith tradition and community remain. That stability will create patience, wisdom and peace, even while moving.
- Fr. Dave
The theme of this year’s retreat is based on Benedictine spirituality. St. Benedict (480-547) is considered the father of monasticism. He created a rule of life that is alive and well today. For three days, we focused on these three Benedictine principles: stability, conversion, obedience. It’s a matrix so don’t try to put one above the other. Stability requires obedience. Obedience requires conversion. Conversion requires stability. But, for the sake of this reflection, let’s start with stability. It’s hard to live into obedience without stability; the same can be said of conversion. (Next week I’m writing to you about conversion)
The Episcopal Church, and All Angels in particular, represents stability in an ever shifting, accelerating world. I can see joy and contentment on the faces of those who walk up to the church. They are being drawn towards something stable. I presided at a wedding last Saturday. The happy couple didn’t write vows; why would they, we have ancient vows that have been said for just about as long as there have been Christian weddings. That is a deep form of stability – the ancientness and relevance of the words we say. But there is more to stability than the words and praxis of Anglicanism.
Stability is fostering inner stillness and spiritual growth by rooting oneself in a community. From the stability in community, we deepen our capacity for patience, wisdom and understanding. Stability in community cultivates deep relationships and the ability to find God in the ordinary. Peace and joy spring forth from finding God in the ordinary and can be found nowhere else in society (because there are no strings attached to the peace or joy found in a stable community of Christ).
The creators of the Alcoholics Anonymous 12-Step Program took the idea of stability from Benedictine spirituality. Conversion (moving from the insanity of addiction to inner peace) and obedience (working the plan daily) is rooted in the stability of the meeting.
For many at All Angels, the community of our church – whether in person or online – is the stable component in their lives. For the Marshall family, we are moving from our home to our new condo over Thanksgiving week. As we downsize and shift residences, stability comes from our relationship with each other, with God, and the stability of our church community. Our address is changing (three miles closer to Longboat) but our faith tradition and community remain. That stability will create patience, wisdom and peace, even while moving.
- Fr. Dave
External Cues
Most nights, I wake up at 3 a.m. When I wake up, I instinctively look at the clock. On a cruise last year, Christi and I were in an interior cabin. The small amount of light that came in under the door never changed – it was the same day or night. In that room, the passage of time was imperceptible. And there was no bedside clock for me to look at. Inevitably, I would wake up, fumble around to find my phone to see what time it was, just to see it was 3 a.m.
The last cruise we went on, our room had a veranda. It’s by far my favorite way to cruise. You can see immediately if it’s day or night. I could also tell if we were moving or at a port. But, here’s the surprising thing: I couldn’t tell how far we traveled because the view is of the vast Atlantic Ocean. One nautical mile looked like the next. One afternoon, as I was sunning myself on the deck chair, I pondered what it would be like to be an explorer crossing the Atlantic. Sailors could tell they were moving but how far would be a mystery until they could take a nighttime reading of the stars.
Humans need visual clues for the passage of time and distance. Some people are pretty good at guessing what time it is during a normal daily routine (especially while at work) but when we sleep, the passage of time becomes a mystery. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I need an external clue to something I already know – it’s nighttime and most likely around 3. When we are asleep, and moving (on a ship, plane, train or automobile), we need to know when and where we are when we wake up. On our road trip to the WWII museum in New Orleans, Elijah’s friend, Henry, fell asleep in the backseat. When he woke up, he first looked around to get his bearings then he checked the time. He said: wow, I was out for a while.
Spiritually speaking, we need external cues too. A seminary professor said that a hermit living under a bridge cannot be a Christian. We rebuffed his statement with the assertion that the hermit could profess that Christ is Lord of his life. The professor asked this: How would he love his neighbor as himself? How would he love God with all of his heart, mind, soul and strength when he lives a lifestyle of a hermit under a bridge. A student suggested this: What if the hermit did repairs to the old bridge when no one was looking so that people would have a safe crossing. That was the external cue the professor was looking for. He said: If he maintained the bridge to help others, he would no longer be a hermit; instead, he’d be a Christian living under a bridge.
The rector I served with right after seminary would only wear a collar on Sundays and only half the time when he went to the hospital. He said that he’d prefer the people he meets to have external cues to his vocation instead of a uniform that tells them. It makes me wonder what external cues I give to show what I believe.
What external cues do people see from All Angels that indicate our faith in Christ? For some, the cue is being welcomed. For others, it is receiving peace and prayers. And for others, an external cue of our faith in Christ is receiving benefits from our Outreach activities. There are many in our community who, proverbially speaking, are living life in the fog of 3 a.m. Let us be the external cue to lead them to comfort and peace.
- Fr. Dave
The last cruise we went on, our room had a veranda. It’s by far my favorite way to cruise. You can see immediately if it’s day or night. I could also tell if we were moving or at a port. But, here’s the surprising thing: I couldn’t tell how far we traveled because the view is of the vast Atlantic Ocean. One nautical mile looked like the next. One afternoon, as I was sunning myself on the deck chair, I pondered what it would be like to be an explorer crossing the Atlantic. Sailors could tell they were moving but how far would be a mystery until they could take a nighttime reading of the stars.
Humans need visual clues for the passage of time and distance. Some people are pretty good at guessing what time it is during a normal daily routine (especially while at work) but when we sleep, the passage of time becomes a mystery. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I need an external clue to something I already know – it’s nighttime and most likely around 3. When we are asleep, and moving (on a ship, plane, train or automobile), we need to know when and where we are when we wake up. On our road trip to the WWII museum in New Orleans, Elijah’s friend, Henry, fell asleep in the backseat. When he woke up, he first looked around to get his bearings then he checked the time. He said: wow, I was out for a while.
Spiritually speaking, we need external cues too. A seminary professor said that a hermit living under a bridge cannot be a Christian. We rebuffed his statement with the assertion that the hermit could profess that Christ is Lord of his life. The professor asked this: How would he love his neighbor as himself? How would he love God with all of his heart, mind, soul and strength when he lives a lifestyle of a hermit under a bridge. A student suggested this: What if the hermit did repairs to the old bridge when no one was looking so that people would have a safe crossing. That was the external cue the professor was looking for. He said: If he maintained the bridge to help others, he would no longer be a hermit; instead, he’d be a Christian living under a bridge.
The rector I served with right after seminary would only wear a collar on Sundays and only half the time when he went to the hospital. He said that he’d prefer the people he meets to have external cues to his vocation instead of a uniform that tells them. It makes me wonder what external cues I give to show what I believe.
What external cues do people see from All Angels that indicate our faith in Christ? For some, the cue is being welcomed. For others, it is receiving peace and prayers. And for others, an external cue of our faith in Christ is receiving benefits from our Outreach activities. There are many in our community who, proverbially speaking, are living life in the fog of 3 a.m. Let us be the external cue to lead them to comfort and peace.
- Fr. Dave
Epistemic Distance
My brother and I got permission to sail, without parents on board, before we were old enough to drive. We would take the city bus down to the marina and then happily take our sailboat, named Patience, out into Puget Sound. Decades later, I found out that Dad would watch us with binoculars from a high vantage point in Tacoma.
Dad’s overview reminds me of a particular theology called epistemic distance. The theory is that God cannot be too much in our face, day in and day out – like a prison guard – because it would violate freewill. If we knew every minute of the day that God was watching, we would then act on our best behavior. Epistemic distance gives humans the freedom to choose between good and bad without the duress of divine supervision.
Think of it this way: we dropped Ethan off at his Head Start program on his first day; said our goodbyes; and walked away. However, the program has a window that parents can look through to see how their child is interacting with others. There were the usual tears associated with fear of being dropped off but then Ethan started playing with some blocks and interacting with other kids. He never would have done that if we stayed in the room or if he was aware that we were watching nearby.
Epistemic distance provides a challenge to our souls. On one hand, it allows us, as individuals, to develop moral and spiritual character through our choices. The distance teaches us to rely on our inner compass of right/wrong and to think for ourselves. On the other hand, the distance creates religious ambiguity. If we had conclusive evidence that God existed, God is interested individually in our lives, and that God has a plan for how we are to behave, we would no longer be as free to make our own choices.
Just for the fun of it, let’s add love into the equation of epistemic distance. Do we love only those people who are in front of us but then forget about them when we leave? No, because if we did, it wouldn’t be true love. Love means we love them when they are present and when they are away. Love even transcends death because we remain loving people even after they have died.
If God’s existence was easily provable, would we be free to love God? I don’t think so. We would love the God which we know and see, and that would require no faith. Epistemic distance means that we love God even though we cannot see, or even know, who God is. God doesn’t force us to love God. Because of the distance, we can freely choose to love God or not.
On the other hand, love is where the theology of epistemic distance falls apart. I love God, but I have never seen God. God is not watching me from a far distance with binoculars. God is an active, animating, loving, forgiving, inspiring, peaceful presence in my life. Because God is love, God can’t be distant. Likewise, those for whom I love but see no longer, love makes the distance between me and them irrelevant. I don’t think my dad is watching me through binoculars from heaven. I think his presence, mixed with the Divine presence, is guiding me today and, at the same time, is allowing me to make my own decisions.
- Fr. Dave
Dad’s overview reminds me of a particular theology called epistemic distance. The theory is that God cannot be too much in our face, day in and day out – like a prison guard – because it would violate freewill. If we knew every minute of the day that God was watching, we would then act on our best behavior. Epistemic distance gives humans the freedom to choose between good and bad without the duress of divine supervision.
Think of it this way: we dropped Ethan off at his Head Start program on his first day; said our goodbyes; and walked away. However, the program has a window that parents can look through to see how their child is interacting with others. There were the usual tears associated with fear of being dropped off but then Ethan started playing with some blocks and interacting with other kids. He never would have done that if we stayed in the room or if he was aware that we were watching nearby.
Epistemic distance provides a challenge to our souls. On one hand, it allows us, as individuals, to develop moral and spiritual character through our choices. The distance teaches us to rely on our inner compass of right/wrong and to think for ourselves. On the other hand, the distance creates religious ambiguity. If we had conclusive evidence that God existed, God is interested individually in our lives, and that God has a plan for how we are to behave, we would no longer be as free to make our own choices.
Just for the fun of it, let’s add love into the equation of epistemic distance. Do we love only those people who are in front of us but then forget about them when we leave? No, because if we did, it wouldn’t be true love. Love means we love them when they are present and when they are away. Love even transcends death because we remain loving people even after they have died.
If God’s existence was easily provable, would we be free to love God? I don’t think so. We would love the God which we know and see, and that would require no faith. Epistemic distance means that we love God even though we cannot see, or even know, who God is. God doesn’t force us to love God. Because of the distance, we can freely choose to love God or not.
On the other hand, love is where the theology of epistemic distance falls apart. I love God, but I have never seen God. God is not watching me from a far distance with binoculars. God is an active, animating, loving, forgiving, inspiring, peaceful presence in my life. Because God is love, God can’t be distant. Likewise, those for whom I love but see no longer, love makes the distance between me and them irrelevant. I don’t think my dad is watching me through binoculars from heaven. I think his presence, mixed with the Divine presence, is guiding me today and, at the same time, is allowing me to make my own decisions.
- Fr. Dave
To Heal
When we think of the physical activities Jesus did on earth, many would think of walking on water, turning water into wine (a favorite of the Episcopal Church), raising a dead man to life, carrying the cross to Golgotha and blessing five loaves and two fish that fed over five thousand people.
Let me ask you a question. According to all four Gospel accounts (and many other non-canonical accounts), what is the number one, most frequented, activity of Jesus? If you answered, “teaching”, you are correct. What is the second most frequent activity? Healing. If you simply look at what he did – teaching and healing – you get a very good sense of Jesus’s mission and ministry.
What is the most frequent activity of the Church? I’d say fellowship, praying, teaching and offering forgiveness. Thankfully, that is in line with Jesus’s activity too. But what about healing? For most of its history, the Church was the single and only place people could go for healing. A shift occurred during the age of the Enlightenment (17th-18th centuries). Prior to then, religion and medicine were intertwined. Physicians saw their role as a divine calling – working in accordance with the Holy Spirit – and prayer was virtually inseparable from their work. In sharp contrast, by the early 1990s, hospitals would run on a regular basis without a chaplain onsite.
This Sunday, All Angels is going to offer individual healing during communion. Over the summer we have been forming a prayer team. The first time out, for individual prayer, we offered a prayer for inner peace. A couple of weeks later, we offered prayers for strength. Last Sunday, we had individual prayer for guidance. And, as a follow up to all of that, we will be offering prayers for healing.
The Letter of James, written around the year 0045 (making it one of the earliest writings in the New Testament), says this in chapter 5:
If any of you are sick, they should call for the leaders of the church, and they should pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. Prayer that comes from faith will heal the sick, for the Lord will restore them to health.
Praying over someone with faith that the Lord will restore them to health was a practice in the (very) Early Church. Many believe it was a Jewish custom prior to Christianity. It was a primary act that converted many to faith in Christ. It’s also a hallmark of the mission and ministry of All Angels. We have an active prayer list that many depend on for receiving restoration and health.
You are invited to receive an individual prayer for healing. You are welcome to invite a friend or neighbor who needs healing to All Angels for prayers too. And, along the way, they will also have fellowship and a sense of community too. By doing this, they will have a good idea of what our mission and ministry is – to bring the Living Christ to those inside and outside the Church.
- Fr. Dave
Let me ask you a question. According to all four Gospel accounts (and many other non-canonical accounts), what is the number one, most frequented, activity of Jesus? If you answered, “teaching”, you are correct. What is the second most frequent activity? Healing. If you simply look at what he did – teaching and healing – you get a very good sense of Jesus’s mission and ministry.
What is the most frequent activity of the Church? I’d say fellowship, praying, teaching and offering forgiveness. Thankfully, that is in line with Jesus’s activity too. But what about healing? For most of its history, the Church was the single and only place people could go for healing. A shift occurred during the age of the Enlightenment (17th-18th centuries). Prior to then, religion and medicine were intertwined. Physicians saw their role as a divine calling – working in accordance with the Holy Spirit – and prayer was virtually inseparable from their work. In sharp contrast, by the early 1990s, hospitals would run on a regular basis without a chaplain onsite.
This Sunday, All Angels is going to offer individual healing during communion. Over the summer we have been forming a prayer team. The first time out, for individual prayer, we offered a prayer for inner peace. A couple of weeks later, we offered prayers for strength. Last Sunday, we had individual prayer for guidance. And, as a follow up to all of that, we will be offering prayers for healing.
The Letter of James, written around the year 0045 (making it one of the earliest writings in the New Testament), says this in chapter 5:
If any of you are sick, they should call for the leaders of the church, and they should pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. Prayer that comes from faith will heal the sick, for the Lord will restore them to health.
Praying over someone with faith that the Lord will restore them to health was a practice in the (very) Early Church. Many believe it was a Jewish custom prior to Christianity. It was a primary act that converted many to faith in Christ. It’s also a hallmark of the mission and ministry of All Angels. We have an active prayer list that many depend on for receiving restoration and health.
You are invited to receive an individual prayer for healing. You are welcome to invite a friend or neighbor who needs healing to All Angels for prayers too. And, along the way, they will also have fellowship and a sense of community too. By doing this, they will have a good idea of what our mission and ministry is – to bring the Living Christ to those inside and outside the Church.
- Fr. Dave
Ou Est Dieu?
I’m fascinated by the break-in of the Louvre. On Sunday morning, October 19th, four thieves broke into the world’s most famous museum and stole eight priceless historical jewels. One of my recent favorite series on PBS Masterpiece is called The Gold. Based on a true story from 1983 (called Brink’s-Mat), thieves stole three tons of gold bars. They stole so much, it affected the global price of gold. It makes me wonder, where is God when there is a theft?
When I was a teenager, someone broke into our church, All Saints Episcopal, Tacoma. As they were fleeing the scene, like the Louvre’s thieves, they dropped a few things. Thankfully, what they left behind had significance to the congregation – crosses, a chalice – compared to the small bank deposit that they took. Our priest, Fr. Winn, began the service with the announcement that we had a break-in. He outlined what was taken. It felt like a violation – someone had entered a holy sanctuary and took some vessels that have meaning. He then turned toward the altar, raised his hands in prayer, and thanked God. He thanked the Lord that no one was hurt and that our mission and ministry will continue. He asked God to help the people who stole from us. Then, in our name, he then forgave them. It was a holy moment that, as you can see, had an impact on me then and now.
The prophet Elijah ran – he was fearful and felt as if something had been taken from him. When he finally slowed down, God told him to enter a cave and to wait for him. There was an earthquake, a fire, and then a windstorm. Scripture tells us that God was not in the earthquake; not in the fire; not in the windstorm. In the silence that followed, Elijah knew God was present.
I doubt it was God’s will for the Louvre heist or Brink’s-Mat. One of the compelling storylines of The Gold is that they stole too much. In my mind’s eye, I can see them thinking about dumping the gold into the Thames just to be rid of it. But you know human behavior as well as I do – there is hubris involved (which didn’t turn out well for the thieves). It can also be said of the Louvre’s heist that perhaps they stole too much. It probably won’t work out well for them either.
Back to my original question, ou est Dieu, (where is God), there was silence when Fr. Winn announced the church had been broken into. God is in that silence. God is not a policing force that stops thefts from happening. Instead, after a loss, we can find God in silence. God, who works from our inside out, is most profoundly felt in rest, recovery and in forgiveness. Scripture never promised the devout believer that no theft would ever occur. What is promised, however, is that God is with us. God will work through us. God will help us to help others.
As we begin this new busy season on Longboat, it feels like something was stolen from us. 80% of first floor houses and condos were damaged or destroyed as a result of last year’s hurricane season. The Town has done a masterful job at restoring utilities and our pride of our island home. Yet, there is something missing. For some, their entire home is missing; for others, their retirement is not what they thought it would be. I am convinced that God is with us when we gather for prayer, for learning, discussion, and fellowship. God, from the inside out helps us to heal and to heal one another.
- Fr. Dave
When I was a teenager, someone broke into our church, All Saints Episcopal, Tacoma. As they were fleeing the scene, like the Louvre’s thieves, they dropped a few things. Thankfully, what they left behind had significance to the congregation – crosses, a chalice – compared to the small bank deposit that they took. Our priest, Fr. Winn, began the service with the announcement that we had a break-in. He outlined what was taken. It felt like a violation – someone had entered a holy sanctuary and took some vessels that have meaning. He then turned toward the altar, raised his hands in prayer, and thanked God. He thanked the Lord that no one was hurt and that our mission and ministry will continue. He asked God to help the people who stole from us. Then, in our name, he then forgave them. It was a holy moment that, as you can see, had an impact on me then and now.
The prophet Elijah ran – he was fearful and felt as if something had been taken from him. When he finally slowed down, God told him to enter a cave and to wait for him. There was an earthquake, a fire, and then a windstorm. Scripture tells us that God was not in the earthquake; not in the fire; not in the windstorm. In the silence that followed, Elijah knew God was present.
I doubt it was God’s will for the Louvre heist or Brink’s-Mat. One of the compelling storylines of The Gold is that they stole too much. In my mind’s eye, I can see them thinking about dumping the gold into the Thames just to be rid of it. But you know human behavior as well as I do – there is hubris involved (which didn’t turn out well for the thieves). It can also be said of the Louvre’s heist that perhaps they stole too much. It probably won’t work out well for them either.
Back to my original question, ou est Dieu, (where is God), there was silence when Fr. Winn announced the church had been broken into. God is in that silence. God is not a policing force that stops thefts from happening. Instead, after a loss, we can find God in silence. God, who works from our inside out, is most profoundly felt in rest, recovery and in forgiveness. Scripture never promised the devout believer that no theft would ever occur. What is promised, however, is that God is with us. God will work through us. God will help us to help others.
As we begin this new busy season on Longboat, it feels like something was stolen from us. 80% of first floor houses and condos were damaged or destroyed as a result of last year’s hurricane season. The Town has done a masterful job at restoring utilities and our pride of our island home. Yet, there is something missing. For some, their entire home is missing; for others, their retirement is not what they thought it would be. I am convinced that God is with us when we gather for prayer, for learning, discussion, and fellowship. God, from the inside out helps us to heal and to heal one another.
- Fr. Dave
Festival of Booths
I had a profound spiritual experience that I’d like to share with you. This past week, our Jewish friends and neighbors celebrated Sukkot. It is a festival at the time of harvest in Israel. Also called the Feast of Tabernacles or Feast of Booths, it is a time of giving thanks to God for the yearly harvest and for the entirety of our lifelong harvest for ourselves, our families and our history. Imagine farmers 2,500 years ago, stopping their harvest for two days to give thanks to God in a makeshift booth in the middle of their field. That required quite a commitment. And it’s a festival that is still happening today.
On Monday, October 13th, the Pastor Pals had our regularly scheduled meeting. Instead of meeting at All Angels, we met at Temple Beth Israel. Rabbi Jessica had completed her role in Sukkot and invited us to a festival lunch with her and other members of the Temple. We feasted on the harvest, which, in this case, came from Publix, but it’s the thought and action that counts. The most profound experience, however, was not the food but participation in the festival.
Rabbi Jessica brought us pastors out to the makeshift booth in the parking lot. (I had been wondering about it and now I know what it is) The booth is supported by metal scaffolding, but it is not strong enough to climb on. Instead, it holds up a green outdoor fabric weave (similar to what you see at construction sites). The roof is made of flimsy crossing wood. In other words, it was not fancy or stable… and that’s the point. As we stood inside, the rabbi explained that each booth is intentionally made flimsy, “So that a breeze could knock it down, to teach us not to trust in our own strength but to trust in the strength of the Lord.” The flimsy roof is designed so that the pilgrims who sleep in the booth can see the stars at night (to remind us of Abraham looking up at the stars).
She held a bundle of plants mandated by Torah – a palm branch, myrtle branch, willow branch and an etrog (citron – a fragrant lemon citrus fruit shaped like the human heart). They are bound together like a bundle and the etrog held separately. The rabbi taught us the ritual of holding the bundle and waving it in six directions, forward, right, back, left, up and down, representing God’s presence everywhere. While each of us took our turn waving the bundle, she chanted psalm 18. Here is the opening stanza:
I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
so I shall be saved from my enemies.
Monday was the celebration of booths. It was also the day that the remaining Israeli captives were released. It was a day of relief, joy, profound sadness, lament, and hope for rebuilding, peace and security. All the while, we were standing in a flimsy booth, that any Florida wind could take down, trusting in the Lord who makes us one.
- Fr. Dave
On Monday, October 13th, the Pastor Pals had our regularly scheduled meeting. Instead of meeting at All Angels, we met at Temple Beth Israel. Rabbi Jessica had completed her role in Sukkot and invited us to a festival lunch with her and other members of the Temple. We feasted on the harvest, which, in this case, came from Publix, but it’s the thought and action that counts. The most profound experience, however, was not the food but participation in the festival.
Rabbi Jessica brought us pastors out to the makeshift booth in the parking lot. (I had been wondering about it and now I know what it is) The booth is supported by metal scaffolding, but it is not strong enough to climb on. Instead, it holds up a green outdoor fabric weave (similar to what you see at construction sites). The roof is made of flimsy crossing wood. In other words, it was not fancy or stable… and that’s the point. As we stood inside, the rabbi explained that each booth is intentionally made flimsy, “So that a breeze could knock it down, to teach us not to trust in our own strength but to trust in the strength of the Lord.” The flimsy roof is designed so that the pilgrims who sleep in the booth can see the stars at night (to remind us of Abraham looking up at the stars).
She held a bundle of plants mandated by Torah – a palm branch, myrtle branch, willow branch and an etrog (citron – a fragrant lemon citrus fruit shaped like the human heart). They are bound together like a bundle and the etrog held separately. The rabbi taught us the ritual of holding the bundle and waving it in six directions, forward, right, back, left, up and down, representing God’s presence everywhere. While each of us took our turn waving the bundle, she chanted psalm 18. Here is the opening stanza:
I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
so I shall be saved from my enemies.
Monday was the celebration of booths. It was also the day that the remaining Israeli captives were released. It was a day of relief, joy, profound sadness, lament, and hope for rebuilding, peace and security. All the while, we were standing in a flimsy booth, that any Florida wind could take down, trusting in the Lord who makes us one.
- Fr. Dave
Certainty
It has been said that we are living in uncertain times, yet I live with hope and joy. As a student of history, I’d say everyone who has ever lived did so in a time of uncertainty. It’s part of the magic, or the lesson, of life – how to live with certainty in an uncertain time. Because of faith, hope and joy can transcend and transform when times are uncertain.
Some religious scholars are writing about how nothing is certain. Under the broad umbrella of postmodernism – which questions the possibility of any universal, objective or absolute truth – some theologians are arguing that religious truth is individualistic and dependent upon each person’s worldview. In seminary, there was room for this line of thinking because it makes the student question the tenants of faith. For those called to pastoral ministry, there are valid reasons for doing this in an academic environment. That process of thinking, however, has left the academic environment and is finding its way into non-academic books about spirituality and even on various Facebook posts. While this author would agree that it’s difficult to find intellectual certainty, there is a distinction between faith and intellectualism. Faith, by its very nature, requires a lack of proof. If we could prove every Christian tenant, we would no longer need faith because we replaced it with proof. That’s not how God set up the universe, and it is also not how the apostles set up the Church. And it's not how faith helps us to live with a sense of hope and joy.
I argue that faith does not require intellectual certainty. Faith is a relationship with the Divine. That relationship exists without proof. One of my favorite things is talking with Christi after the day is done. I like to hear what her day was like and to share what happened with mine. If I was connected to her in a way where I could see what she sees and gain knowledge of what she was thinking every moment, conversation about the day would be pointless and then one of the best parts of my day would be gone.
Christianity is like that. God has done, is doing, and will do things that are an absolute mystery to us. Nevertheless, we are called, in relationship with the Divine, to talk about our day, to share our anxieties, and to seek peace and strength that comes from the Holy Spirit. Because of that relationship, I am certain about these things: I believe Jesus’s body was placed in a tomb on (Good) Friday and, on (Easter) Sunday morning it was empty. I believe he revealed his resurrected body to many. I believe he is still revealing his resurrection to me and to the Church. I believe that death is something that happens to the body – no one can escape it. I also believe, without proof, that souls exist independently of the physical body. Our soul connects with the Divine through prayer, worship, offerings, and helping others. I believe there is universal love. It is the most powerful and redemptive force in the world.
Our time is uncertain, just like every other time in human history. But I am certain of love, of God’s love for us, of the relationship of Jesus’s love to us that transcended the cross and tomb and makes us alive – today and after our physical bodies have run their course. I have certainty of love because of faith and that is what gives me hope and joy in an uncertain world.
- Fr. Dave
Some religious scholars are writing about how nothing is certain. Under the broad umbrella of postmodernism – which questions the possibility of any universal, objective or absolute truth – some theologians are arguing that religious truth is individualistic and dependent upon each person’s worldview. In seminary, there was room for this line of thinking because it makes the student question the tenants of faith. For those called to pastoral ministry, there are valid reasons for doing this in an academic environment. That process of thinking, however, has left the academic environment and is finding its way into non-academic books about spirituality and even on various Facebook posts. While this author would agree that it’s difficult to find intellectual certainty, there is a distinction between faith and intellectualism. Faith, by its very nature, requires a lack of proof. If we could prove every Christian tenant, we would no longer need faith because we replaced it with proof. That’s not how God set up the universe, and it is also not how the apostles set up the Church. And it's not how faith helps us to live with a sense of hope and joy.
I argue that faith does not require intellectual certainty. Faith is a relationship with the Divine. That relationship exists without proof. One of my favorite things is talking with Christi after the day is done. I like to hear what her day was like and to share what happened with mine. If I was connected to her in a way where I could see what she sees and gain knowledge of what she was thinking every moment, conversation about the day would be pointless and then one of the best parts of my day would be gone.
Christianity is like that. God has done, is doing, and will do things that are an absolute mystery to us. Nevertheless, we are called, in relationship with the Divine, to talk about our day, to share our anxieties, and to seek peace and strength that comes from the Holy Spirit. Because of that relationship, I am certain about these things: I believe Jesus’s body was placed in a tomb on (Good) Friday and, on (Easter) Sunday morning it was empty. I believe he revealed his resurrected body to many. I believe he is still revealing his resurrection to me and to the Church. I believe that death is something that happens to the body – no one can escape it. I also believe, without proof, that souls exist independently of the physical body. Our soul connects with the Divine through prayer, worship, offerings, and helping others. I believe there is universal love. It is the most powerful and redemptive force in the world.
Our time is uncertain, just like every other time in human history. But I am certain of love, of God’s love for us, of the relationship of Jesus’s love to us that transcended the cross and tomb and makes us alive – today and after our physical bodies have run their course. I have certainty of love because of faith and that is what gives me hope and joy in an uncertain world.
- Fr. Dave
Action/Reflection
During communion this past Sunday, we tried something new; we had four prayer stations with two people at each station. Folks who received communion could then receive an individual prayer for inner peace. All Angels has an active and effective prayer ministry which is highlighted in our Prayers of the People and prayer list for individuals. Many members of last year’s confirmation class wanted to continue in prayer for the greater goal of bringing the living Christ to those inside and outside our church. This summer we invited some others to join the prayer ministry, and we started meeting in my office to plan for last Sunday’s prayer event.
This group is based on the action/reflection model. The model is simple; you do an action and then reflect on the action. I first encountered the action/reflection model in my home parish. The priest asked me to pray with someone. I did. And then afterwards he asked me questions about my experience. I thought he’d ask about the effectiveness of the prayer; but no, that is not the goal of the action/reflection model. The goal is to see the growth of the Spirit within an action which is made known in reflection in the person who did the action. That model was used at my seminary, at the VA Hospital to train the chaplains, and now at All Angels.
Jesus used the action/reflection model with his disciples. He sent them out, two-by-two, to do an action. Then he’d bring them back and have them reflect on their experience. The early Church followed the model. The Apostle Paul was sent out to do an action and then reflected on it. He then did that model with the people he raised up – Mark, Luke, Timothy, and Titus (to name a few). I am pleased to say that model is still happening today.
During Sunday’s prayer event, I felt a powerful sense of the Spirit. I always feel the Presence at All Angels. Sunday, however, it was even stronger (or I was more aware of it because I reflected on it). After the event, I handed out the action/reflection sheet to the prayer leader participants and we shared our reflections.
The last question on the action/reflection form is this: What is your response to this event?
The overwhelming response from the group was that we need to do it again, soon! Change happens incrementally. We are going to have another event – coming up on Sunday, October 12th – where we will offer prayers for strength. If the call is strong to continue, we’ll then have an event for guidance and then for healing.
You have just had an action – you read this reflection – so let’s reflect on it. Do you feel called, or inspired, or curious to help with this prayer ministry? If so, let me know and I’ll include you. I imagine there are many more who feel called to pray for people individually because All Angels is blessed with the gift of prayer. Here’s another question: do you know someone who could use an individual prayer for strength. I’d suggest that you invite them to attend on Sunday the 12th. If the person you know who needs strength is yourself, then I invite you to participate. Lastly, if you received a prayer for inner peace this past Sunday, I’d like to hear your reflection based on that action. You can email me, write it down, or tell me on Sunday.
We are told that when two or three are gathered together, Christ will be with us. When that action happens, I’d like to reflect on it with you.
- Fr. Dave
This group is based on the action/reflection model. The model is simple; you do an action and then reflect on the action. I first encountered the action/reflection model in my home parish. The priest asked me to pray with someone. I did. And then afterwards he asked me questions about my experience. I thought he’d ask about the effectiveness of the prayer; but no, that is not the goal of the action/reflection model. The goal is to see the growth of the Spirit within an action which is made known in reflection in the person who did the action. That model was used at my seminary, at the VA Hospital to train the chaplains, and now at All Angels.
Jesus used the action/reflection model with his disciples. He sent them out, two-by-two, to do an action. Then he’d bring them back and have them reflect on their experience. The early Church followed the model. The Apostle Paul was sent out to do an action and then reflected on it. He then did that model with the people he raised up – Mark, Luke, Timothy, and Titus (to name a few). I am pleased to say that model is still happening today.
During Sunday’s prayer event, I felt a powerful sense of the Spirit. I always feel the Presence at All Angels. Sunday, however, it was even stronger (or I was more aware of it because I reflected on it). After the event, I handed out the action/reflection sheet to the prayer leader participants and we shared our reflections.
The last question on the action/reflection form is this: What is your response to this event?
The overwhelming response from the group was that we need to do it again, soon! Change happens incrementally. We are going to have another event – coming up on Sunday, October 12th – where we will offer prayers for strength. If the call is strong to continue, we’ll then have an event for guidance and then for healing.
You have just had an action – you read this reflection – so let’s reflect on it. Do you feel called, or inspired, or curious to help with this prayer ministry? If so, let me know and I’ll include you. I imagine there are many more who feel called to pray for people individually because All Angels is blessed with the gift of prayer. Here’s another question: do you know someone who could use an individual prayer for strength. I’d suggest that you invite them to attend on Sunday the 12th. If the person you know who needs strength is yourself, then I invite you to participate. Lastly, if you received a prayer for inner peace this past Sunday, I’d like to hear your reflection based on that action. You can email me, write it down, or tell me on Sunday.
We are told that when two or three are gathered together, Christ will be with us. When that action happens, I’d like to reflect on it with you.
- Fr. Dave
Forgiveness
In the first century and second centuries, Christians were known for their forgiveness. They followed what Jesus said about praying for their enemies and for those who persecuted them. They forgave those who harmed them, and they supported one another in forgiveness and peace. There was a stark difference between the Christian movement and what was happening in the Roman Empire. The empire used force to make peace. The Early Church focused on forgiveness – to forgive as we have been forgiven – as their force for peace. The empire crumbled. Christianity is still here and continues to grow.
Over the past few weeks, I have been bound with hope for what we are witnessing right now. Erika Kirk’s forgiveness of her husband’s assassin has left me awe struck. It is a God-glorifying act set forth by courage and faith. It did not come to her easily – anyone who has had to forgive knows how difficult it is – and yet she did it publicly. God knows what is in her heart, yet she felt the courage to tell the rest of us about it. May God bless her and her family with peace.
I am deeply troubled about the attack on the meetinghouse of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Grand Blanc, Michigan. I am more than deeply troubled but I just don’t know how to write what I am feeling. At the same time, I am awe struck at the reaction. At the time I wrote this, more than $200,000 has been raised to support the wife of the shooter. This came about because of this phrase: The shooter’s wife is our neighbor. This act of community forgiveness has left me without the right words for expressing how amazed I am at this courageous and God-glorifying act. May God bless them, and their community, with peace.
We are witnessing an external force (God) helping everyday citizens to forgive as we have been forgiven. History shows that humans don’t come to this conclusion on our own. It is the external force of Love (capitalized to show that it is God) and of Peace that manifests itself in forgiveness that has helped, and is helping, people forgive. I am hopeful because of what I am witnessing. It also makes me hope that in this 21st century, faith in Christ is looking like that of the 1st century.
- Fr. Dave
Over the past few weeks, I have been bound with hope for what we are witnessing right now. Erika Kirk’s forgiveness of her husband’s assassin has left me awe struck. It is a God-glorifying act set forth by courage and faith. It did not come to her easily – anyone who has had to forgive knows how difficult it is – and yet she did it publicly. God knows what is in her heart, yet she felt the courage to tell the rest of us about it. May God bless her and her family with peace.
I am deeply troubled about the attack on the meetinghouse of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Grand Blanc, Michigan. I am more than deeply troubled but I just don’t know how to write what I am feeling. At the same time, I am awe struck at the reaction. At the time I wrote this, more than $200,000 has been raised to support the wife of the shooter. This came about because of this phrase: The shooter’s wife is our neighbor. This act of community forgiveness has left me without the right words for expressing how amazed I am at this courageous and God-glorifying act. May God bless them, and their community, with peace.
We are witnessing an external force (God) helping everyday citizens to forgive as we have been forgiven. History shows that humans don’t come to this conclusion on our own. It is the external force of Love (capitalized to show that it is God) and of Peace that manifests itself in forgiveness that has helped, and is helping, people forgive. I am hopeful because of what I am witnessing. It also makes me hope that in this 21st century, faith in Christ is looking like that of the 1st century.
- Fr. Dave
Faithful, Loving, Dependable, Gentle
In his book, How the Irish Saved Civilization, Thomas Cahil described how, after the fall of the Roman Empire, Irish monks and scribes preserved Western culture by copying and preserving classical texts in their monasteries. They re-established learning and literacy in a fragmented Europe. Cahil asserts that those Irish monks (and the generation that followed) contributed to the transition from a fallen empire and ancient world to the medieval era. It can be said that their work paved the way for the Renaissance.
My undergraduate university is Benedictine; four of my professors were monks. They take education as seriously as they take their three-fold vows of faith, poverty and chastity. Fr. Killian was my favorite. And yes, he is Irish, complete with red hair. He is a man of deep faith, he loves learning and teaching, he is dependable (I called at 10:30 pm one night because I needed help with a paper) and, perhaps above all, he is gentle. Fr. Killian’s mannerism taught me about the nature of Christ – gentle, loving, compassionate and kind.
In Apostle Paul’s first letter to his protégé Timothy, he wrote this: Be faithful, loving, dependable and gentle. 550 years later, Irish monks saved civilization by doing just that. They received a tradition from (saint) Columba who learned from (saint) Patrick, who learned it from… well, you get the point. Jesus started it all because he himself is faithful, loving, dependable and gentle. Paul, Timothy, Columba, Patrick and Killian were adherents to it and now 21st century American society is calling on us to do the same.
I am deeply disturbed by political violence. A few days after Charlie Kirk was killed, I listened to someone lament about where she was when she learned of President Kennedy’s death. Her lament was this: why, O Lord, do we do these things to each other in the land of the free. Despite our shared lament about violence, it feels like we are in a unique time where the faithful have something to offer and even perhaps save civilization in our country.
The Irish monks of the 6th and 7th century didn’t save civilization with violence or charisma or influence or sports and entertainment. They saved civilization with faithfulness, with love in their hearts and (perhaps more importantly) in their actions. They were dependable and gentle. With the collapse of the Roman Empire, chaos reigned. Violence was commonplace. Faith, order, and dependability went out the proverbial window. Yet, there they were – unknown and unrecognized – recording, copying and teaching the tradition that they had learned.
Christians are in a position now to follow in the footsteps of the Irish monks. Not by secluding ourselves and isolating away from others we don’t agree, or by shying away from our faith tradition. Christians today have an opportunity to display our faith, love, dependableness and gentleness from Christ. We are called to listen and be gentle with our friends, family and neighbors who think differently. In faith we are called to love one another as we are loved by Christ; especially to those with whom we disagree. By our actions in this century, and by the grace of God, civility and civilization might just be saved again by people who are faithful, loving, dependable and gentle.
- Fr. Dave
My undergraduate university is Benedictine; four of my professors were monks. They take education as seriously as they take their three-fold vows of faith, poverty and chastity. Fr. Killian was my favorite. And yes, he is Irish, complete with red hair. He is a man of deep faith, he loves learning and teaching, he is dependable (I called at 10:30 pm one night because I needed help with a paper) and, perhaps above all, he is gentle. Fr. Killian’s mannerism taught me about the nature of Christ – gentle, loving, compassionate and kind.
In Apostle Paul’s first letter to his protégé Timothy, he wrote this: Be faithful, loving, dependable and gentle. 550 years later, Irish monks saved civilization by doing just that. They received a tradition from (saint) Columba who learned from (saint) Patrick, who learned it from… well, you get the point. Jesus started it all because he himself is faithful, loving, dependable and gentle. Paul, Timothy, Columba, Patrick and Killian were adherents to it and now 21st century American society is calling on us to do the same.
I am deeply disturbed by political violence. A few days after Charlie Kirk was killed, I listened to someone lament about where she was when she learned of President Kennedy’s death. Her lament was this: why, O Lord, do we do these things to each other in the land of the free. Despite our shared lament about violence, it feels like we are in a unique time where the faithful have something to offer and even perhaps save civilization in our country.
The Irish monks of the 6th and 7th century didn’t save civilization with violence or charisma or influence or sports and entertainment. They saved civilization with faithfulness, with love in their hearts and (perhaps more importantly) in their actions. They were dependable and gentle. With the collapse of the Roman Empire, chaos reigned. Violence was commonplace. Faith, order, and dependability went out the proverbial window. Yet, there they were – unknown and unrecognized – recording, copying and teaching the tradition that they had learned.
Christians are in a position now to follow in the footsteps of the Irish monks. Not by secluding ourselves and isolating away from others we don’t agree, or by shying away from our faith tradition. Christians today have an opportunity to display our faith, love, dependableness and gentleness from Christ. We are called to listen and be gentle with our friends, family and neighbors who think differently. In faith we are called to love one another as we are loved by Christ; especially to those with whom we disagree. By our actions in this century, and by the grace of God, civility and civilization might just be saved again by people who are faithful, loving, dependable and gentle.
- Fr. Dave
To Serve
Jesus said: No slave can serve two masters;
for a slave will either hate the one and love the other.
You cannot serve God and wealth. Luke 16:13
One of my favorite movies is The Princess Bride. The villain, a Sicilian named Vizzini, uttered the one-word exclamation, “Inconceivable!” five times in the film when his malicious plans failed. At one point, the character, Inigo Montoya, said to Vizzini, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
When reading the Gospel passage above, I sometimes think of Inigo Montoya and want to say, “I do not think that word means what you think it means.” A couple of weeks ago, I wrote to you about the word “hate” and how it was improperly translated into our 21st century English from Luke’s original Greek word – miseo. That word (miseo) means there is a hierarchy in love – to love something more or something less. In love, we worship God but do not worship our parents (or children or life itself). Nevertheless, we love them all. We certainly do not “hate” them.
What caught my attention this week is the verb “to serve”. Can one work hard, earn a good living and serve God at the same time? Or is working for a good retirement incompatible with Christianity?
There are four different Greek verbs that translate in English “to serve”. One is diakoneo which is serving others; hands-on like table-waiting. The second verb is latreuo. It is a word for ceremonial service in worship of God. Similar to latreuo, the third word for serve is leitourgeo. It is how I minister (serve) the congregation, how a police officer or social worker serves the public, and how we minister to one another. The fourth is douleuo. It is a master-slave relationship – in particular, how the slave serves the master.
Care to guess which of these Greek words Luke used? If you guessed douleuo, you are correct. Slavery is not an easy or comfortable topic to talk about in the 21st century. It was not that way in the 1st century, however. There were lots of slaves and a few masters. It was commonplace. Thanks be to God that it is no longer that way.
I hear Jesus’s words reaching through the pages of the Bible to ask us this important douleuo question: Has wealth enslaved you? Is God your master or is wealth your master? I have found that money can be a good servant but can be a cruel master.
To serve (douleuo) wealth does not mean it’s wrong to have a 401k, or save money, or ask for a raise, or seek a profit in business, or retire well. It does not mean that I shouldn’t negotiate a lower rate with SiriusXM satellite radio, or that I shouldn’t use an AARP card for a discount at a hotel, or to use a BOGO at Publix. None of those things stand in the way of me serving God. But, if I became a slave to wealth… well that’s a different story.
- Fr. Dave
for a slave will either hate the one and love the other.
You cannot serve God and wealth. Luke 16:13
One of my favorite movies is The Princess Bride. The villain, a Sicilian named Vizzini, uttered the one-word exclamation, “Inconceivable!” five times in the film when his malicious plans failed. At one point, the character, Inigo Montoya, said to Vizzini, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
When reading the Gospel passage above, I sometimes think of Inigo Montoya and want to say, “I do not think that word means what you think it means.” A couple of weeks ago, I wrote to you about the word “hate” and how it was improperly translated into our 21st century English from Luke’s original Greek word – miseo. That word (miseo) means there is a hierarchy in love – to love something more or something less. In love, we worship God but do not worship our parents (or children or life itself). Nevertheless, we love them all. We certainly do not “hate” them.
What caught my attention this week is the verb “to serve”. Can one work hard, earn a good living and serve God at the same time? Or is working for a good retirement incompatible with Christianity?
There are four different Greek verbs that translate in English “to serve”. One is diakoneo which is serving others; hands-on like table-waiting. The second verb is latreuo. It is a word for ceremonial service in worship of God. Similar to latreuo, the third word for serve is leitourgeo. It is how I minister (serve) the congregation, how a police officer or social worker serves the public, and how we minister to one another. The fourth is douleuo. It is a master-slave relationship – in particular, how the slave serves the master.
Care to guess which of these Greek words Luke used? If you guessed douleuo, you are correct. Slavery is not an easy or comfortable topic to talk about in the 21st century. It was not that way in the 1st century, however. There were lots of slaves and a few masters. It was commonplace. Thanks be to God that it is no longer that way.
I hear Jesus’s words reaching through the pages of the Bible to ask us this important douleuo question: Has wealth enslaved you? Is God your master or is wealth your master? I have found that money can be a good servant but can be a cruel master.
To serve (douleuo) wealth does not mean it’s wrong to have a 401k, or save money, or ask for a raise, or seek a profit in business, or retire well. It does not mean that I shouldn’t negotiate a lower rate with SiriusXM satellite radio, or that I shouldn’t use an AARP card for a discount at a hotel, or to use a BOGO at Publix. None of those things stand in the way of me serving God. But, if I became a slave to wealth… well that’s a different story.
- Fr. Dave
Utmost Patience
Who is the most patient person you know? Would you say that person was also a happy person? I think there is a direct correlation between patience, love and happiness.
The Apostle Paul, in the first letter he wrote to his protégé, Timothy, wrote this:
Jesus Christ displayed the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him. (1 Tim. 1:16)
If you asked Paul to name the most patient person he knows, I think he would say it was Jesus. In fact, Paul wrote emphatically that Jesus displayed “utmost patience”. Looking deeper into the text, Paul wrote this letter in Greek. The English word “utmost” is a translation from the Greek word ἅπας Th(ha-pas). “Pas” in Greek means “all”. Hapas is an emphatic-all. For example, Homer, and later Greek authors, used hapas to mean “quite all”, “the whole”, “all together”. I’m going to assume that Paul also meant it in the same way. Jesus was “all-together patient”.
In a different letter written by Paul, he described love. Often read at weddings, it is one of the most well-known passages of Scripture. Here it is:
Love is patient, love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. (1 Cor. 13)
Did you catch the first attribute of love – it is patient. Jesus is patient with you and me because Jesus loves us. His hapas love is hapas patient, it is kind, it bears all things, endures all things; his love never ends.
Jesus said, “Love others as I have loved you.” He repeated that command many times. Why, because he’s patient and knows he needs to repeat himself. Jesus never said, “Love is easy. Patience comes naturally. Just be happy.” Love can be difficult at times. Patience does not come easily. Happiness is not a given in life. Love takes time and it takes enduring, hopeful patience.
Happiness never made it onto Paul’s love list. I don’t think he had to mention it. Some would like to think one needs to be happy first and then one will be patient and loving. But I don’t think that’s how happiness works. I think we practice patience and love. As a result of that work, we experience happiness.
As God has been all-patient with Paul, we can be assured that God is all-patient with you and me. May we then be patient with one another and happier as a result.
-Fr. Dave
The Apostle Paul, in the first letter he wrote to his protégé, Timothy, wrote this:
Jesus Christ displayed the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him. (1 Tim. 1:16)
If you asked Paul to name the most patient person he knows, I think he would say it was Jesus. In fact, Paul wrote emphatically that Jesus displayed “utmost patience”. Looking deeper into the text, Paul wrote this letter in Greek. The English word “utmost” is a translation from the Greek word ἅπας Th(ha-pas). “Pas” in Greek means “all”. Hapas is an emphatic-all. For example, Homer, and later Greek authors, used hapas to mean “quite all”, “the whole”, “all together”. I’m going to assume that Paul also meant it in the same way. Jesus was “all-together patient”.
In a different letter written by Paul, he described love. Often read at weddings, it is one of the most well-known passages of Scripture. Here it is:
Love is patient, love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. (1 Cor. 13)
Did you catch the first attribute of love – it is patient. Jesus is patient with you and me because Jesus loves us. His hapas love is hapas patient, it is kind, it bears all things, endures all things; his love never ends.
Jesus said, “Love others as I have loved you.” He repeated that command many times. Why, because he’s patient and knows he needs to repeat himself. Jesus never said, “Love is easy. Patience comes naturally. Just be happy.” Love can be difficult at times. Patience does not come easily. Happiness is not a given in life. Love takes time and it takes enduring, hopeful patience.
Happiness never made it onto Paul’s love list. I don’t think he had to mention it. Some would like to think one needs to be happy first and then one will be patient and loving. But I don’t think that’s how happiness works. I think we practice patience and love. As a result of that work, we experience happiness.
As God has been all-patient with Paul, we can be assured that God is all-patient with you and me. May we then be patient with one another and happier as a result.
-Fr. Dave
Unless You Hate
The Gospel lesson for this Sunday has me asking (again), did Jesus really say that? Here’s the line from Luke’s Gospel: Jesus said, “Whoever does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” I’ll ask it again, did Jesus really say this? Yes, he did say it. But what did it mean to his followers back in the first century and what does it mean for us today?
Hate is a loaded word in 21st century English. It can mean to feel intense and passionate dislike for another. It can mean a strong aversion, like, “He hates pineapple on his pizza.” Hate can be used politely to express regret or embarrassment, like, “I hate to bother you.” It can be used to express dislike at a situation, “I hate it when my computer does that.” And, hate can denote hostile actions motivated by prejudice. None of these are what Jesus meant.
Before I get into that, let’s talk about double negatives. Luke quotes Jesus with a double negative, as shown: Whoever does not, cannot. Jesus read Hebrew and was a part of the Hebrew culture. The Hebrew Scriptures (the Old Testament) use double negatives to emphasize or strengthen a point. It is foreign to our English mindset and often considered ungrammatical. For instance, Mick Jagger sang, “I can’t get no satisfaction.” He was expressing deep frustration with the consumer-driven culture (and probably something to do with sexual desire). But, in English, “I can’t get no satisfaction” grammatically means that he is satisfied. Yet, the singer meant it not as a double negative that becomes a positive but rather, like Hebrew, he was emphasizing his double dissatisfaction about the way things are. Luke’s double negative – whoever doesn’t, can’t – uses the Hebrew method of emphatic negation. Yet, in English, we hear it today like this: If you hate you can be my disciple. And no, that’s not what he meant.
Luke wrote this passage in Greek. The word translated “hate” is μισέω (miseso). There is no direct English equivalent. Some translators wrote “love-less” instead of “hate”. What they are driving at is the true meaning of the word which is a hierarchy of love – love more/love less – and not an absence of love (and certainly not hate). The difficult part is that it’s a Hebrew concept written in Greek translated for an English-speaking audience. Here’s my best to clear it up. Looking at the first book of the Bible, Genesis, the grandson of Abraham and Sarah, Jacob, loved a woman named Rachel. He was tricked into marrying Rachel’s older sister, Leah. He then had to work for Rachel’s dad for seven more years in order to marry her. Jacob miseso Leah. He loved Leah less than Rachel. According to Scripture, God saw that Jacob miseso Leah, had love and compassion for her, and “opened her womb” while keeping Rachel’s womb closed.
What I think Jesus is saying is that the love we have for God is different than the love we have for spouses, children, parents and life itself. The love we have for God involves worship, adoration and blind faith. The love we have for others, however, is miseso – less than worship, adoration and blind faith. If we worship our parents, children and spouses; and if we worship our own lives; we cannot be followers of Christ. Why would we need Christ? What would we offer God through Christ, if we worshipped our family and our life? Instead, Jesus is calling us into loving God and, secondarily, loving others as much as we love ourselves.
- Fr. Dave
Hate is a loaded word in 21st century English. It can mean to feel intense and passionate dislike for another. It can mean a strong aversion, like, “He hates pineapple on his pizza.” Hate can be used politely to express regret or embarrassment, like, “I hate to bother you.” It can be used to express dislike at a situation, “I hate it when my computer does that.” And, hate can denote hostile actions motivated by prejudice. None of these are what Jesus meant.
Before I get into that, let’s talk about double negatives. Luke quotes Jesus with a double negative, as shown: Whoever does not, cannot. Jesus read Hebrew and was a part of the Hebrew culture. The Hebrew Scriptures (the Old Testament) use double negatives to emphasize or strengthen a point. It is foreign to our English mindset and often considered ungrammatical. For instance, Mick Jagger sang, “I can’t get no satisfaction.” He was expressing deep frustration with the consumer-driven culture (and probably something to do with sexual desire). But, in English, “I can’t get no satisfaction” grammatically means that he is satisfied. Yet, the singer meant it not as a double negative that becomes a positive but rather, like Hebrew, he was emphasizing his double dissatisfaction about the way things are. Luke’s double negative – whoever doesn’t, can’t – uses the Hebrew method of emphatic negation. Yet, in English, we hear it today like this: If you hate you can be my disciple. And no, that’s not what he meant.
Luke wrote this passage in Greek. The word translated “hate” is μισέω (miseso). There is no direct English equivalent. Some translators wrote “love-less” instead of “hate”. What they are driving at is the true meaning of the word which is a hierarchy of love – love more/love less – and not an absence of love (and certainly not hate). The difficult part is that it’s a Hebrew concept written in Greek translated for an English-speaking audience. Here’s my best to clear it up. Looking at the first book of the Bible, Genesis, the grandson of Abraham and Sarah, Jacob, loved a woman named Rachel. He was tricked into marrying Rachel’s older sister, Leah. He then had to work for Rachel’s dad for seven more years in order to marry her. Jacob miseso Leah. He loved Leah less than Rachel. According to Scripture, God saw that Jacob miseso Leah, had love and compassion for her, and “opened her womb” while keeping Rachel’s womb closed.
What I think Jesus is saying is that the love we have for God is different than the love we have for spouses, children, parents and life itself. The love we have for God involves worship, adoration and blind faith. The love we have for others, however, is miseso – less than worship, adoration and blind faith. If we worship our parents, children and spouses; and if we worship our own lives; we cannot be followers of Christ. Why would we need Christ? What would we offer God through Christ, if we worshipped our family and our life? Instead, Jesus is calling us into loving God and, secondarily, loving others as much as we love ourselves.
- Fr. Dave
Community, Trust, Healing
I am on the Clergy Wellness Team for the diocese. Shortly after his consecration, the bishop sought my input about how to increase clergy health. He then created the three-person team to improve the wellness of his clergy. Now in our second year, we are seeing the actions of the work of the Holy Spirit through us. The bishop inherited a diocesan clergy group that didn’t know one another very well and, unfortunately, sometimes felt like we are in competition with one another. The approach of the Wellness Team is to first build community, then trust, then watch as the healing begins. At our Wellness meeting with the bishop this past week, he believes we are building our diocesan community and trust is starting to form. This is all good news. The next step: healing.
All Angels is good at praying for one another and praying for people whom most of us have never met. People on our prayer list feel the power of the Holy Spirit through our prayers and some of them are physically healed. All of them, however, feel the peace and presence of God through prayer. All Angels is a community that people trust, and, as a result, healing happens.
This past week, I met with a team of parishioners with the goal of hosting a healing service. I am happy to report that because of that meeting, we will have a healing service on Sunday, September 28th at 10 a.m. The healing service team has become a small group community. This community leads to trust with one another. From that small community, with trust, comes healing.
There is a story about a non-Jewish centurion (who commanded 100 Roman military soldiers). He had a servant who was paralyzed because of an illness. The centurion approached Jesus on the street and told him about his servant. Jesus said, “I’ll come to your house and heal him.” The centurion replied, “Lord, I don’t deserve to have you come under my roof. Just say the word and my servant will be healed.” Jesus was impressed by this man’s faith. He said, “Go; it will be done just as you have believed.” And his servant was healed at that very moment.
The centurion knew of the community of believers around Jesus. He was not a part of them, but he knew about them. He trusted the community. He trusted Jesus. And then, the servant was healed.
I think the community of Longboat knows about All Angels. Thanks to the Comfort Station, the New to You Art Sale, pet blessings, community events hosted at our church, and the fact that we have friendly and kind parishioners, I think we have built trust within the community. What comes next? Healing.
- Fr. Dave
All Angels is good at praying for one another and praying for people whom most of us have never met. People on our prayer list feel the power of the Holy Spirit through our prayers and some of them are physically healed. All of them, however, feel the peace and presence of God through prayer. All Angels is a community that people trust, and, as a result, healing happens.
This past week, I met with a team of parishioners with the goal of hosting a healing service. I am happy to report that because of that meeting, we will have a healing service on Sunday, September 28th at 10 a.m. The healing service team has become a small group community. This community leads to trust with one another. From that small community, with trust, comes healing.
There is a story about a non-Jewish centurion (who commanded 100 Roman military soldiers). He had a servant who was paralyzed because of an illness. The centurion approached Jesus on the street and told him about his servant. Jesus said, “I’ll come to your house and heal him.” The centurion replied, “Lord, I don’t deserve to have you come under my roof. Just say the word and my servant will be healed.” Jesus was impressed by this man’s faith. He said, “Go; it will be done just as you have believed.” And his servant was healed at that very moment.
The centurion knew of the community of believers around Jesus. He was not a part of them, but he knew about them. He trusted the community. He trusted Jesus. And then, the servant was healed.
I think the community of Longboat knows about All Angels. Thanks to the Comfort Station, the New to You Art Sale, pet blessings, community events hosted at our church, and the fact that we have friendly and kind parishioners, I think we have built trust within the community. What comes next? Healing.
- Fr. Dave
Good Grief
t took just three minutes into our discussion topic about grief for someone to say, “Good grief,” and then added, “Charlie Brown.” Charles Schulz popularized the phrase (but he did not invent it). The phrase was used to replace the phrase, “Good Lord” or “Good God” out of reverence and to avoid blasphemy. It makes me wonder, however, can grief be good?
An orthopedic surgeon said, “With gravity comes knee problems.” Likewise, love makes this planet livable; but with love comes grief. You can’t have one without the other. This begs the question, does God, who is love, grieve too? Scripture says yes, many times. Six chapters into the first book of the Bible, Genesis, God is grieved by the wickedness of humankind. Psalm 78 reflects on the Israelites, who made a gold calf and worshiped it while Moses was on Mount Sinai, and how their actions grieved God. The prophet Isaiah says that the people’s rebellion grieved the Holy Spirit. There are many examples in the New Testament but the strongest is this: Jesus wept. He felt grief for the death of this friend Lazarus.
Back to the original question, is grief simply an outcome, or byproduct of love, or is there something good about it? Going out on a limb, I will say yes, grief can be good. Like most things, depending on how we live with grief, depends upon it being good or not.
If I were to put a warning label on grief, the first symptom I’d list is irritability. Grief can also cause hopelessness, brain fog, sadness, disillusion, fatigue, headaches, nausea, loss of appetite or insatiable appetite, loss of sleep, fear, anger, guilt and self-blame. But, number one – irritability. God’s reaction to “the wickedness of man” was to tell Noah to build an ark because it’s going to start raining, hard. God’s irritable reaction to the worship of the golden calf was the desire to destroy the people and start over with Moses (thankfully, Moses talked God out of that idea). Number one sign of grief – irritability. Jesus wept. He then said, “Roll away the stone.” I think there was some irritation in his voice when he said it.
Thankfully, the moment passes. God, who is good, lets irritability pass and then something amazing (life changing) happens. Noah and his family who survived the flood did two things – they barbequed meat (for the first time in Biblical history) and they made a vineyard. To this day, we enjoy a good outdoor barbeque with friends. God, who grieved the actions of the Israelites, and became irritated, sent Moses down the mountain with the Ten Commandments. Life was never the same. Those commandments are the foundation of our ethical structures and modern-day judicial system. Jesus grieved, and, in the opinion of this author, was irritable, and then raised his friend back to life. And for us, life was never the same. To this day, we believe he is the resurrection and the life and those who turn to him, even though they die, have new life.
For us mortals, who are struggling to make life livable, who know love and grief intimately, for us grief can also be good. Learning to live with grief is a lesson on how to be self-aware. It can teach us to love ourselves, to love our family and friends. Grief can lead us to be in a state of awe and gratitude for all that we cherish in this impermanent and liminal life. Good grief, indeed.
- Fr. Dave
An orthopedic surgeon said, “With gravity comes knee problems.” Likewise, love makes this planet livable; but with love comes grief. You can’t have one without the other. This begs the question, does God, who is love, grieve too? Scripture says yes, many times. Six chapters into the first book of the Bible, Genesis, God is grieved by the wickedness of humankind. Psalm 78 reflects on the Israelites, who made a gold calf and worshiped it while Moses was on Mount Sinai, and how their actions grieved God. The prophet Isaiah says that the people’s rebellion grieved the Holy Spirit. There are many examples in the New Testament but the strongest is this: Jesus wept. He felt grief for the death of this friend Lazarus.
Back to the original question, is grief simply an outcome, or byproduct of love, or is there something good about it? Going out on a limb, I will say yes, grief can be good. Like most things, depending on how we live with grief, depends upon it being good or not.
If I were to put a warning label on grief, the first symptom I’d list is irritability. Grief can also cause hopelessness, brain fog, sadness, disillusion, fatigue, headaches, nausea, loss of appetite or insatiable appetite, loss of sleep, fear, anger, guilt and self-blame. But, number one – irritability. God’s reaction to “the wickedness of man” was to tell Noah to build an ark because it’s going to start raining, hard. God’s irritable reaction to the worship of the golden calf was the desire to destroy the people and start over with Moses (thankfully, Moses talked God out of that idea). Number one sign of grief – irritability. Jesus wept. He then said, “Roll away the stone.” I think there was some irritation in his voice when he said it.
Thankfully, the moment passes. God, who is good, lets irritability pass and then something amazing (life changing) happens. Noah and his family who survived the flood did two things – they barbequed meat (for the first time in Biblical history) and they made a vineyard. To this day, we enjoy a good outdoor barbeque with friends. God, who grieved the actions of the Israelites, and became irritated, sent Moses down the mountain with the Ten Commandments. Life was never the same. Those commandments are the foundation of our ethical structures and modern-day judicial system. Jesus grieved, and, in the opinion of this author, was irritable, and then raised his friend back to life. And for us, life was never the same. To this day, we believe he is the resurrection and the life and those who turn to him, even though they die, have new life.
For us mortals, who are struggling to make life livable, who know love and grief intimately, for us grief can also be good. Learning to live with grief is a lesson on how to be self-aware. It can teach us to love ourselves, to love our family and friends. Grief can lead us to be in a state of awe and gratitude for all that we cherish in this impermanent and liminal life. Good grief, indeed.
- Fr. Dave
Rather Division
I am not preaching on the Gospel lesson for this Sunday (Luke 12:49-56) so I am taking this opportunity to write to you about it. Here is a summary of the lesson. Jesus said: I came to bring fire to the earth. I did not come to bring peace to the earth but rather division. Five in one household will be divided, three against two, father against son, mother against daughter. You can interpret the weather, yet you cannot interpret the present time.
This doesn’t sound like Jesus. It sounds contradictory. Did we not read at Christmas, “Peace on earth and goodwill to all” and that he, Jesus, is the Prince of Peace. What is going on here?!
Biblical scholarship requires the acknowledgement that what we read in the Bible was written at a particular time and place, in a particular language, dealing with issues of their day. None of these particulars are our own. This begs the question, why then read the Bible? I believe that despite the difference between the New Testament community and our own, it is the Word of the Lord and, as such, it speaks to us today.
Let’s start with fire. We see fire as dangerous and consuming; people in the Bible saw it as life-giving. Fire purifies and provides light in dark places. The fire that Moses saw was non-consuming. Jesus is the Light of the World. He came to bring fire/light to the world.
How about peace? In the New Testament era, peace-through-Rome was established through fear and subjugation. Peace-to-the-earth was the Roman call to conquer, suppress, tax and control. Jesus did not bring that; it’s not the peace he’s talking about.
Household division. This is the hardest part because family means so much to me. The way my family operates is not how it would have been in the 1st century. Whatever the belief system of my father, or my father-in-law, would have been the rule in the house. Period. In the Christian way of believing, we believe we are God’s children, not God’s grandchildren. Every generation of every household makes a decision to follow Christ. Parents now-a-days can make that decision easier or harder; but it’s up to each generation. Two of the most influential apostles, James and John, left their dad, Zebedee in the fishing boat when they decided to follow Jesus. I imagine that caused division. In seminary, during our second gathering of the incoming class, the professor asked us, “What have you given up to follow Jesus into seminary?” Two students shared that their parents more or less disowned them when they “came out” as Christian. (One was a Buddhist family the other a highly educated atheistic family)
Despite those stories, I have seen how faith in Christ has mended families, restored peace in households, and brought a personal sense of centeredness, sanity, and meaning to individuals. The fire – the Light of Christ – illuminates to this day. Jesus’s light will show where there is division, but he will not leave it at that. His fire purifies and removes shadows. Zebedee became a believer and supporter of the Church. Those two students are now in relationship with their parents and they both have found a peace that passes all understanding. The fire that illuminated and purified in the 1st century is, thanks be to God, still happening in the 21st century.
- Fr. Dave
This doesn’t sound like Jesus. It sounds contradictory. Did we not read at Christmas, “Peace on earth and goodwill to all” and that he, Jesus, is the Prince of Peace. What is going on here?!
Biblical scholarship requires the acknowledgement that what we read in the Bible was written at a particular time and place, in a particular language, dealing with issues of their day. None of these particulars are our own. This begs the question, why then read the Bible? I believe that despite the difference between the New Testament community and our own, it is the Word of the Lord and, as such, it speaks to us today.
Let’s start with fire. We see fire as dangerous and consuming; people in the Bible saw it as life-giving. Fire purifies and provides light in dark places. The fire that Moses saw was non-consuming. Jesus is the Light of the World. He came to bring fire/light to the world.
How about peace? In the New Testament era, peace-through-Rome was established through fear and subjugation. Peace-to-the-earth was the Roman call to conquer, suppress, tax and control. Jesus did not bring that; it’s not the peace he’s talking about.
Household division. This is the hardest part because family means so much to me. The way my family operates is not how it would have been in the 1st century. Whatever the belief system of my father, or my father-in-law, would have been the rule in the house. Period. In the Christian way of believing, we believe we are God’s children, not God’s grandchildren. Every generation of every household makes a decision to follow Christ. Parents now-a-days can make that decision easier or harder; but it’s up to each generation. Two of the most influential apostles, James and John, left their dad, Zebedee in the fishing boat when they decided to follow Jesus. I imagine that caused division. In seminary, during our second gathering of the incoming class, the professor asked us, “What have you given up to follow Jesus into seminary?” Two students shared that their parents more or less disowned them when they “came out” as Christian. (One was a Buddhist family the other a highly educated atheistic family)
Despite those stories, I have seen how faith in Christ has mended families, restored peace in households, and brought a personal sense of centeredness, sanity, and meaning to individuals. The fire – the Light of Christ – illuminates to this day. Jesus’s light will show where there is division, but he will not leave it at that. His fire purifies and removes shadows. Zebedee became a believer and supporter of the Church. Those two students are now in relationship with their parents and they both have found a peace that passes all understanding. The fire that illuminated and purified in the 1st century is, thanks be to God, still happening in the 21st century.
- Fr. Dave
Time
We use time to measure, sequence, and compare the duration of events. We rely on clocks and calendars to organize our lives and understand historical progression. Here is what is said about time: Time is fleeting and can stand still. One can waste time; it flies and can be lost. You can have a good time or a bad time. It can be the right time, or the wrong time. Time can be spent, killed, given, received. Time runs out, time is up. Time can slip away and be gained.
Two idioms I heard growing up were: time will tell, and we’ll see. I did not want to hear either of those phrases because I wanted the answer now. I didn’t want to give the time for reflection and thought.
A theology book I read recently contained this phrase: Time is the great revealer of secrets, and it is also, in another sense, the great detector of forgeries. I wholeheartedly agree. Time does reveal secrets. Time also reveals forgeries. This Sunday, I am going to begin the worship service, as I often do, with this phrase: Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you, no secrets are hid. This tells me there is a link between time and God. We believe God is eternal – time is not a factor for God. For us mortals, time is experienced as a finite resource. For God, time is an infinite resource. This brings me to the good news.
This Sunday, we will read from the Letter to the Hebrews which includes this phrase: faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. In other words, time will tell. The author of the letter used the faith of Abraham as an example. In faith, Abraham believed God, set out to a land he had never seen, and, although he was beyond the traditional years of childbirth, he believed that God would provide him with children. This wasn’t a forgery because, in time, Abraham did have descendants that are now as “numerous as the stars in the night sky.” If Abraham’s faith was based on a lie, time would have revealed that too.
This year, the Nicene Creed turns 1,700 years old. It was written three centuries after Jesus’s ascension to heaven which is ample time to reveal secrets and detect forgeries. Written as a unifying document, the 200 bishops that assembled in Nicaea (modern-day Turkey), agreed that God is the maker of heaven and earth, of all things seen and unseen. At the time, Christianity was a minority religion in the Roman Empire. Once the Creed was written, Christianity didn’t immediately transform the empire. Instead, it was a gradual process. During that process, time was detecting forgeries and revealing secrets. There are beliefs and practices that have been let go of; things believed that time has since washed away. Time has given us this gift of a belief system that has survived wars, unrest, scandal, misuse, concentration of power, inquisition, martyrdom, the enlightenment, and whatever our time is today. Our belief system has survived and, frankly, has grown to be the most populous religion in the world.
If you are having difficulty with your faith – with the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen – I’d like you to consider time. If your faith system was in vain, time would have told us by now. Considering the adage of time will tell, time does have something to say about our faith, if you are willing to take the time to ponder it.
- Fr. Dave
Two idioms I heard growing up were: time will tell, and we’ll see. I did not want to hear either of those phrases because I wanted the answer now. I didn’t want to give the time for reflection and thought.
A theology book I read recently contained this phrase: Time is the great revealer of secrets, and it is also, in another sense, the great detector of forgeries. I wholeheartedly agree. Time does reveal secrets. Time also reveals forgeries. This Sunday, I am going to begin the worship service, as I often do, with this phrase: Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you, no secrets are hid. This tells me there is a link between time and God. We believe God is eternal – time is not a factor for God. For us mortals, time is experienced as a finite resource. For God, time is an infinite resource. This brings me to the good news.
This Sunday, we will read from the Letter to the Hebrews which includes this phrase: faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. In other words, time will tell. The author of the letter used the faith of Abraham as an example. In faith, Abraham believed God, set out to a land he had never seen, and, although he was beyond the traditional years of childbirth, he believed that God would provide him with children. This wasn’t a forgery because, in time, Abraham did have descendants that are now as “numerous as the stars in the night sky.” If Abraham’s faith was based on a lie, time would have revealed that too.
This year, the Nicene Creed turns 1,700 years old. It was written three centuries after Jesus’s ascension to heaven which is ample time to reveal secrets and detect forgeries. Written as a unifying document, the 200 bishops that assembled in Nicaea (modern-day Turkey), agreed that God is the maker of heaven and earth, of all things seen and unseen. At the time, Christianity was a minority religion in the Roman Empire. Once the Creed was written, Christianity didn’t immediately transform the empire. Instead, it was a gradual process. During that process, time was detecting forgeries and revealing secrets. There are beliefs and practices that have been let go of; things believed that time has since washed away. Time has given us this gift of a belief system that has survived wars, unrest, scandal, misuse, concentration of power, inquisition, martyrdom, the enlightenment, and whatever our time is today. Our belief system has survived and, frankly, has grown to be the most populous religion in the world.
If you are having difficulty with your faith – with the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen – I’d like you to consider time. If your faith system was in vain, time would have told us by now. Considering the adage of time will tell, time does have something to say about our faith, if you are willing to take the time to ponder it.
- Fr. Dave
On Being Human
The discussion group this past week discussed an article that asserted the Church is not ready for AI (artificial intelligence) because the Church doesn’t sufficiently understand what a human being is. To help us in our discussion, I passed out a sheet with twelve quotes from authors, philosophers, poets, scientists, and a US President that gave their unique perspective on humanity. Here are a six quotes:
We are all broken, that's how the light gets in. (Ernest Hemingway)
We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it, we are going back from whence we came. (John F. Kennedy)
Humanity has only one effective weapon and that is laughter. (Mark Twain)
To be human is to become a storyteller – of ourselves, of our world, of our hopes, of our fears. (Ursula K. Le Guin)
To be human is to be an explorer, a learner, an artist, a dreamer, and a survivor. (Maya Angelou)
The unexamined life is not worth living. (Socrates)
For as much as I’d like to disagree with the author who asserted the Church is not ready for AI because of a lack of understanding of what a human being is, I can’t. Church history shows there was a time when the Church taught that laughter, scientific exploration, dreams and storytelling should be suppressed, that the brokenness of humanity blocked the light of God, and that humans are like machines programmed for bad. Thankfully, the story of the Church doesn’t end there. The Reformation, that started 500 years ago, is breaking us free to examine our lives and our relationship with God and one another.
AI is scary. The future with it is uncertain. But AI is helping humanity define what it is to be human. We learn by contrasts – defining what something is by describing what it isn’t. For instance, the well-quoted line by St. Paul, “Love is patient, love is kind”, is based on contrast. Paul writes more of what love isn’t than what it is – love isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant or irritable, or rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, it isn’t happy with injustice. In contrast, love is patient, kind; it trusts, hopes and endures.
Using St. Paul as an inspiration, perhaps the Church can define humanity in the 21st century by contrasting it to AI in this way: AI cannot seek the common good over its own self-interest. It cannot forgive as it has been forgiven. AI has no home. It is not tied to the ocean, does not understand, or feel, the significance of the sun setting over the Gulf and therefore it cannot “go back from whence we came.” In contrast, humans are explorers, learners, artists, dreamers and survivors.
One last thing, it would be wise for the 21st century Church to remember that humans are created in God’s image. Some believe that image is what gives us laughter, or joy, or connection that transcends the living to the dead. The Church was created for humans, not vice versa and once we understand our humanity, suddenly AI doesn’t look so scary anymore.
- Fr. Dave
We are all broken, that's how the light gets in. (Ernest Hemingway)
We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it, we are going back from whence we came. (John F. Kennedy)
Humanity has only one effective weapon and that is laughter. (Mark Twain)
To be human is to become a storyteller – of ourselves, of our world, of our hopes, of our fears. (Ursula K. Le Guin)
To be human is to be an explorer, a learner, an artist, a dreamer, and a survivor. (Maya Angelou)
The unexamined life is not worth living. (Socrates)
For as much as I’d like to disagree with the author who asserted the Church is not ready for AI because of a lack of understanding of what a human being is, I can’t. Church history shows there was a time when the Church taught that laughter, scientific exploration, dreams and storytelling should be suppressed, that the brokenness of humanity blocked the light of God, and that humans are like machines programmed for bad. Thankfully, the story of the Church doesn’t end there. The Reformation, that started 500 years ago, is breaking us free to examine our lives and our relationship with God and one another.
AI is scary. The future with it is uncertain. But AI is helping humanity define what it is to be human. We learn by contrasts – defining what something is by describing what it isn’t. For instance, the well-quoted line by St. Paul, “Love is patient, love is kind”, is based on contrast. Paul writes more of what love isn’t than what it is – love isn’t jealous, it doesn’t brag, it isn’t arrogant or irritable, or rude, it doesn’t seek its own advantage, it doesn’t keep a record of complaints, it isn’t happy with injustice. In contrast, love is patient, kind; it trusts, hopes and endures.
Using St. Paul as an inspiration, perhaps the Church can define humanity in the 21st century by contrasting it to AI in this way: AI cannot seek the common good over its own self-interest. It cannot forgive as it has been forgiven. AI has no home. It is not tied to the ocean, does not understand, or feel, the significance of the sun setting over the Gulf and therefore it cannot “go back from whence we came.” In contrast, humans are explorers, learners, artists, dreamers and survivors.
One last thing, it would be wise for the 21st century Church to remember that humans are created in God’s image. Some believe that image is what gives us laughter, or joy, or connection that transcends the living to the dead. The Church was created for humans, not vice versa and once we understand our humanity, suddenly AI doesn’t look so scary anymore.
- Fr. Dave
Ἐπαφράς (Epp-uh-fras)
I’d like to introduce you to Epaphras. He’s essential in the formation of the Early Church yet, until this past week, I knew nothing about him.
Here is what we know about Epaphras. There are three sentences in the New Testament that refer to him. In the year 0055, he founded the church in the town of Colosse (modern day western Turkey) and helped start two other churches in near-by Hierapolis and Laodicea. Epaphras visited St. Paul in prison in Rome seven years later because there was a problem in the Colossian church. As a result of his visit, the four-chapter Letter to the Colossians was written. The letter was delivered by Tychicus to the Colossian church. The trip from Colossae to Rome in New Testament times is 1200 miles and involves two passages by ship. The most well-known phrase in the letter is this:
[Because we are made in the image of God] there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all and in all.
You are probably wondering what the problem of the Colossian church was that caused Epaphras to seek advice from Paul? There were divisions arising in the community from a false teaching involving elements of Greek philosophy, strict Jewish law (dietary restrictions, holy days and circumcision), and the worship of angelic beings. To lead and serve the church, Epaphras sought advice from the Apostle Paul on how to create unity so that the Church will have a lasting impact.
I am impressed by Epaphras for many reasons. Clergy often think that we can tough things out and do not always seek help from others. Epaphras exemplifies humility of servanthood in church leadership by asking for help. Secondly, Paul was buoyed up with hope from Epaphras’s visit. As a result, the letter to the Colossians gives us hope today. Lastly, Epaphras’s trip to visit Paul in prison reminds me of the Christian principle that by giving we receive.
When Epaphras sought advice to help his fellow parishioners in Colossae, I don’t think he imagined that 1,964 years later, Christians in a far-off land would benefit from it. But that is how it works in God’s Kingdom. This giving and receiving tells me that we don’t fully know what effect we have on others and on the Church. Yet, in humility and service to the Lord, we too seek to know God and to help one another.
At our beautiful barrier island church, we are helping others find connection with God and one another. My desk is full of thank you cards from people whose lives have been changed by our mission and ministry. Epaphras ministered the best he could without knowing what his faithfulness would produce. We too make offerings to support All Angels’ ministry without fully realizing the impact we will have. Yet God, in whose image we are created, blesses what we do in great ways.
Just three sentences in the Bible tell of the faith of Epaphras but what a difference he made and is making. In the same way, imagine the offerings you make, and the work you do, for All Angels will also have a big impact that you may never see.
- Fr. Dave
Here is what we know about Epaphras. There are three sentences in the New Testament that refer to him. In the year 0055, he founded the church in the town of Colosse (modern day western Turkey) and helped start two other churches in near-by Hierapolis and Laodicea. Epaphras visited St. Paul in prison in Rome seven years later because there was a problem in the Colossian church. As a result of his visit, the four-chapter Letter to the Colossians was written. The letter was delivered by Tychicus to the Colossian church. The trip from Colossae to Rome in New Testament times is 1200 miles and involves two passages by ship. The most well-known phrase in the letter is this:
[Because we are made in the image of God] there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised nor uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave nor free, but Christ is all and in all.
You are probably wondering what the problem of the Colossian church was that caused Epaphras to seek advice from Paul? There were divisions arising in the community from a false teaching involving elements of Greek philosophy, strict Jewish law (dietary restrictions, holy days and circumcision), and the worship of angelic beings. To lead and serve the church, Epaphras sought advice from the Apostle Paul on how to create unity so that the Church will have a lasting impact.
I am impressed by Epaphras for many reasons. Clergy often think that we can tough things out and do not always seek help from others. Epaphras exemplifies humility of servanthood in church leadership by asking for help. Secondly, Paul was buoyed up with hope from Epaphras’s visit. As a result, the letter to the Colossians gives us hope today. Lastly, Epaphras’s trip to visit Paul in prison reminds me of the Christian principle that by giving we receive.
When Epaphras sought advice to help his fellow parishioners in Colossae, I don’t think he imagined that 1,964 years later, Christians in a far-off land would benefit from it. But that is how it works in God’s Kingdom. This giving and receiving tells me that we don’t fully know what effect we have on others and on the Church. Yet, in humility and service to the Lord, we too seek to know God and to help one another.
At our beautiful barrier island church, we are helping others find connection with God and one another. My desk is full of thank you cards from people whose lives have been changed by our mission and ministry. Epaphras ministered the best he could without knowing what his faithfulness would produce. We too make offerings to support All Angels’ ministry without fully realizing the impact we will have. Yet God, in whose image we are created, blesses what we do in great ways.
Just three sentences in the Bible tell of the faith of Epaphras but what a difference he made and is making. In the same way, imagine the offerings you make, and the work you do, for All Angels will also have a big impact that you may never see.
- Fr. Dave
The Impartiality of God
Publix on Longboat Key is the closest thing we have to a public square. Most times when I am there, I will talk to a parishioner or a potential parishioner. Sometimes, I even get to see God’s hand at work. This past week, I was there in the hot summer mid-afternoon to buy ice cream for the upcoming Ice Cream Social Coffee Hour. I was about to call Christi to figure out which of the 4th of July promotions on ice cream were the best, when I walked by a man in his 80s sitting on the green bench out front wearing a light blue golf shirt. At that very moment, I was told, by God, to talk to him. Now, let me be clear, I did not hear a heavenly voice that said, “Talk to him.” If anything, there was a moment of silence accompanied by everything in my peripheral vision turning white – just for a half-second – which made me see this man. There was also a tugging at my heart that usually tells me I need to pay attention.
I walked up to him and said, “Hello, is everything alright?” He replied, “Yes and no; I’m doing great but my ride sharing app is not working and I am stranded here. I’ve been on hold for twenty minutes, my phone battery is dying, and I’ve lost all my patience.” I found out his condo is only 1.5 miles up the road. I said, “Why don’t I give you a ride?” He looked relieved and thankful. I told Christi that I’ll call her in fifteen minutes, brought the car around, and gave him a ride.
On the short drive, I told him I’m an Episcopal priest at All Angels. He told me that he was president of a Unitarian Universalist church in New England but has not found a church home since moving to Florida. The Unitarian faith tradition draws inspiration from various religious sources including Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Humanism, and earth-centered spirituality. At the Unitarian seminary in Berkeley, where I took a healing class, the professor told me that they believe Muhammad, Buddha, Jesus, Moses all have equal value. As you can imagine, Unitarianism is not well-received throughout much of the Christian Church.
This past Sunday, we heard the story of a non-Jewish military leader who had leprosy. He visited the prophet Elisha and was told to go wash in the Jordan River seven times. By the seventh time he was completely cured. The radicalness of that story is God’s abiding love for people outside of the monotheistic Israelite religious tradition healed the man. A few weeks ago, we heard the story of St. Peter and how God called him to a non-Jewish household. He saw firsthand how the Holy Spirit was working with that family. Peter declared that God’s abiding love shows no partiality. This was the foundation on which the Christian Church was built.
I asked my new Unitarian friend to visit All Angels. He said it’s not his cup of tea so I invited him to consider these things: I felt called by the Holy Spirit to help this man. God is watching out for him. Maybe God is trying to get his attention. It also reminded me of the wideness of God’s mercy and help. Although he and I may disagree on any number of theological tenants, we both experienced God’s love and unity.
- Fr. Dave
I walked up to him and said, “Hello, is everything alright?” He replied, “Yes and no; I’m doing great but my ride sharing app is not working and I am stranded here. I’ve been on hold for twenty minutes, my phone battery is dying, and I’ve lost all my patience.” I found out his condo is only 1.5 miles up the road. I said, “Why don’t I give you a ride?” He looked relieved and thankful. I told Christi that I’ll call her in fifteen minutes, brought the car around, and gave him a ride.
On the short drive, I told him I’m an Episcopal priest at All Angels. He told me that he was president of a Unitarian Universalist church in New England but has not found a church home since moving to Florida. The Unitarian faith tradition draws inspiration from various religious sources including Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Humanism, and earth-centered spirituality. At the Unitarian seminary in Berkeley, where I took a healing class, the professor told me that they believe Muhammad, Buddha, Jesus, Moses all have equal value. As you can imagine, Unitarianism is not well-received throughout much of the Christian Church.
This past Sunday, we heard the story of a non-Jewish military leader who had leprosy. He visited the prophet Elisha and was told to go wash in the Jordan River seven times. By the seventh time he was completely cured. The radicalness of that story is God’s abiding love for people outside of the monotheistic Israelite religious tradition healed the man. A few weeks ago, we heard the story of St. Peter and how God called him to a non-Jewish household. He saw firsthand how the Holy Spirit was working with that family. Peter declared that God’s abiding love shows no partiality. This was the foundation on which the Christian Church was built.
I asked my new Unitarian friend to visit All Angels. He said it’s not his cup of tea so I invited him to consider these things: I felt called by the Holy Spirit to help this man. God is watching out for him. Maybe God is trying to get his attention. It also reminded me of the wideness of God’s mercy and help. Although he and I may disagree on any number of theological tenants, we both experienced God’s love and unity.
- Fr. Dave
Data Brokers
Fraud has struck our community again. For privacy reasons I can’t go into details but know this: fraudsters are out there and are trying a variety of insidious ways to rip us off. Advancements in artificial intelligence are making it even more difficult for people like us to know who or what a fraud is. To stand against this tide, All Angels uses reliable anti-virus software. We do not make our directory available online, or any other information like that. We do not give out information over the phone (despite the repeated [and sinister] weekly requests). I recently made two upgrades that I wanted to tell you about.
The first anti-virus upgrade is EasyOptOuts. It defends against data brokers. If you are not familiar with what a data broker is, try this: type your phone number into a Google search engine and see what results come up. If you see listings, like FastPeopleSearch, that is a data broker service that sells your information to anyone who’d like to purchase it. The same goes for your address, your name, and your relatives’ names. The businesses where I shop for hardware, where I get my haircut, where I take clergy out for coffee meetings, where I get car tires, and fishing gear all use my phone number as an access code for appointments, discounts and the like. That number can easily get sold online. The same goes with my email address. What I was unaware of is that my home address is also available to be purchased online. As a result, I made a virus software upgrade through EasyOptOuts that scrubs my personal information from the hundreds of data brokers. I could go to FastPeopleSearch and scrub my own information, but I’d have to do that manually hundreds of times; so now, for a small fee, a very large and sophisticated computer does it for me.
I have never been on the cruise line Margaritaville; I have never searched for them online or looked at their bookings. But, while on a cruise, we were docked next to a Margaritaville ship. I took a panoramic shot of the port which included the ship and sent it out through WhatsApp. The next time I went onto Facebook, guess what, every other ad was for Margaritaville. The same thing happened when I looked up patio chairs – I got ads for patio furniture. As a part of my antivirus network, I have added Privacy Badger as an extension. Privacy Badger blocks the tools advertisers use to track my movements across the web to sell to advertisers.
One of my favorite psalms is 139. It begins with this: Lord, you have examined me. You know me. You know when I sit down and when I stand up. You study my traveling and resting. You surround me – front and back. You put your hand on me. That kind of knowledge is too much for me; it is so high above me that I cannot reach it.
There is no ad blocker, or opt-out, that applies to God. In wisdom and love, God tracks us and knows us. God knows our thoughts and, as the psalmist writes, “There isn’t a word on my tongue that the Lord doesn’t already know completely.” You can (and should) share everything with God. All your innermost thoughts and feelings.
But, as far as those fraudsters who are trying to rip us off, I’d make sure they have no idea who you are.
- Fr. Dave
The first anti-virus upgrade is EasyOptOuts. It defends against data brokers. If you are not familiar with what a data broker is, try this: type your phone number into a Google search engine and see what results come up. If you see listings, like FastPeopleSearch, that is a data broker service that sells your information to anyone who’d like to purchase it. The same goes for your address, your name, and your relatives’ names. The businesses where I shop for hardware, where I get my haircut, where I take clergy out for coffee meetings, where I get car tires, and fishing gear all use my phone number as an access code for appointments, discounts and the like. That number can easily get sold online. The same goes with my email address. What I was unaware of is that my home address is also available to be purchased online. As a result, I made a virus software upgrade through EasyOptOuts that scrubs my personal information from the hundreds of data brokers. I could go to FastPeopleSearch and scrub my own information, but I’d have to do that manually hundreds of times; so now, for a small fee, a very large and sophisticated computer does it for me.
I have never been on the cruise line Margaritaville; I have never searched for them online or looked at their bookings. But, while on a cruise, we were docked next to a Margaritaville ship. I took a panoramic shot of the port which included the ship and sent it out through WhatsApp. The next time I went onto Facebook, guess what, every other ad was for Margaritaville. The same thing happened when I looked up patio chairs – I got ads for patio furniture. As a part of my antivirus network, I have added Privacy Badger as an extension. Privacy Badger blocks the tools advertisers use to track my movements across the web to sell to advertisers.
One of my favorite psalms is 139. It begins with this: Lord, you have examined me. You know me. You know when I sit down and when I stand up. You study my traveling and resting. You surround me – front and back. You put your hand on me. That kind of knowledge is too much for me; it is so high above me that I cannot reach it.
There is no ad blocker, or opt-out, that applies to God. In wisdom and love, God tracks us and knows us. God knows our thoughts and, as the psalmist writes, “There isn’t a word on my tongue that the Lord doesn’t already know completely.” You can (and should) share everything with God. All your innermost thoughts and feelings.
But, as far as those fraudsters who are trying to rip us off, I’d make sure they have no idea who you are.
- Fr. Dave
I Heard You in the Silence
God will give us space to wander away and follow our own devices and desires. God calls us to return; again, and again and again; but God will allow us to not listen and drown out God’s voice with noise. Theologian Henri Nouwen wrote, “Solitude is the furnace of transformation.” Silence is an integral part of solitude. Nevertheless, God will allow us to fill our homes, cars and minds with noise and audible distraction. When we do, there will be no heat from the furnace of transformation. Here’s the good news: God is the pilot light waiting to be ignited by silence.
This afternoon, I walked into the church on a mission to measure the footprint of our new, yet to be ordered, flower refrigerator. There was a sound in the sanctuary that caught my attention. I sat down at the rector’s chair near the altar to listen to it. The sound of silence enveloped me. Later on, I was asked where I (metaphorically) heard the voice of God today. I replied: I heard God in the silence.
I visited a parishioner at Sarasota Memorial who told me he couldn’t wait to get back home. Upon asking why, he replied, “This place is too loud – machines beeping, voices, doors, patients, everything; it’s so noisy I can’t get any peace or rest.” Many have said that when they returned from the hospital, they enjoyed the rest at home but in particular, they savored the silence.
My favorite time to go shopping at our local Walmart is at 8 a.m. They have “sensory-friendly” hours, from 8 to 10, where there is no music or announcements, TV monitors are off, and where possible, lights are dimmed. Honestly, there is a difference. … and I don’t know why they operate 22 hours a day in what I think is a sensory unfriendly way.
Ask any Altar Guild person why they enjoy their ministry of behind-the-scenes service for God in the Church, and they will most likely tell you it’s about the silence. There is something special about being alone, inside the church, setting the altar, when it is absolutely quiet. There is a Presence there that, I believe, is present all the time but is much more apparent in silence.
In college, I drove with a friend to his home in Oregon (about a four-hour drive). He was visiting his parents and asked me to drive his car back to campus because he was going to ride with his sister a few days later. She was nervous about driving that far by herself and he, being a good brother, decided to help her. About fifteen minutes into the trip, I realized he had all the compact discs and tapes (this is before we had streaming apps and satellite radio). The local radio stations were starting to fade. I turned off the radio and drove the entire trip in silence. It was wonderful and powerful. I got a lot of really good thinking done and, as I remember it, God held my attention and helped me discern what I was going to do after graduation (when I decided to hold off going to law school).
God is always more willing to listen than we are to speak. Silence is patient and will wait for us. God won’t turn off the noise in our lives; but God is present for when we make the choice to sit in silence.
- Fr. Dave
This afternoon, I walked into the church on a mission to measure the footprint of our new, yet to be ordered, flower refrigerator. There was a sound in the sanctuary that caught my attention. I sat down at the rector’s chair near the altar to listen to it. The sound of silence enveloped me. Later on, I was asked where I (metaphorically) heard the voice of God today. I replied: I heard God in the silence.
I visited a parishioner at Sarasota Memorial who told me he couldn’t wait to get back home. Upon asking why, he replied, “This place is too loud – machines beeping, voices, doors, patients, everything; it’s so noisy I can’t get any peace or rest.” Many have said that when they returned from the hospital, they enjoyed the rest at home but in particular, they savored the silence.
My favorite time to go shopping at our local Walmart is at 8 a.m. They have “sensory-friendly” hours, from 8 to 10, where there is no music or announcements, TV monitors are off, and where possible, lights are dimmed. Honestly, there is a difference. … and I don’t know why they operate 22 hours a day in what I think is a sensory unfriendly way.
Ask any Altar Guild person why they enjoy their ministry of behind-the-scenes service for God in the Church, and they will most likely tell you it’s about the silence. There is something special about being alone, inside the church, setting the altar, when it is absolutely quiet. There is a Presence there that, I believe, is present all the time but is much more apparent in silence.
In college, I drove with a friend to his home in Oregon (about a four-hour drive). He was visiting his parents and asked me to drive his car back to campus because he was going to ride with his sister a few days later. She was nervous about driving that far by herself and he, being a good brother, decided to help her. About fifteen minutes into the trip, I realized he had all the compact discs and tapes (this is before we had streaming apps and satellite radio). The local radio stations were starting to fade. I turned off the radio and drove the entire trip in silence. It was wonderful and powerful. I got a lot of really good thinking done and, as I remember it, God held my attention and helped me discern what I was going to do after graduation (when I decided to hold off going to law school).
God is always more willing to listen than we are to speak. Silence is patient and will wait for us. God won’t turn off the noise in our lives; but God is present for when we make the choice to sit in silence.
- Fr. Dave
Inside and Outside the Church
The mission statement of All Angels is this: To bring the Living Christ to those inside and outside the church. More than two-thirds of our congregation leaves Longboat Key for half (or more) of the year. Three times last year the entire island was evacuated – which means 100% of our congregation was “outside the church.” Because of our unique demographics, we work on bringing Christ to those who travel away. Here is some good news, there has never been an easier time for us to bring the living Christ to those outside the church.
Thanks to generous donations to our memorial fund, and the work my son Elijah puts in on Sunday, we have a three-camera, six-microphone live-streaming and digital recording system that captures our worship services and live performances in the church. In 2025, we hit a benchmark I never thought we’d see – we had more people interacting with us online than in person. Since Easter, our online numbers have exponentially increased.
Two weeks before Easter, I had a coffee chat with my friend Fr. Alex Andujar. He said, “I’ve looked at using Opus Clips – it’s an AI app that takes my sermon, cuts it into short sections, adds live captions, and will upload the clips to YouTube automatically.” I asked how much the app is (because it sounds expensive) and he said it’s $20 per month. Surprised and intrigued, I did a little research. Our primary online presence is through YouTube. They are promoting “shorts” which are videos that are less than three minutes long. My research indicated that if someone wants to increase their in-person attendance (or sales, or donations, or participation), they need to create YouTube shorts. I then subscribed All Angels to Opus Clips to try it for a month – two weeks before Easter.
Here's the result: I talked to six people on Easter Sunday who were at All Angels for the first time because they saw a Short I had posted. They encountered a sampling of the Living Christ when they were outside the church that led them to step inside the church.
Since Easter, we have gotten better at digital marketing. Over the last 28 days, our YouTube channel received 29,326 views. On Tuesday and Wednesday (48 hours) we had 4,809 views. Before Easter, we had 188 subscribers. We have 1,266 now. Only 9% of YouTube channels have over 1k subscribers. On average, 34% of our viewers are over the age of 65 and 63% are male.
The most watched television show in history was the Super Bowl in 2024 with 123 million viewers. The average 30-second ad was $7M. In contrast, YouTube has 122 million daily viewers, which makes YouTube the most watched media platform in the world. They gave All Angels a free channel; and thanks to you, and many others, who watch and share our videos, YouTube is starting to promote our mission and ministry to their viewership.
I am excited about this and a little unnerved too. This is not the church I grew up in. We didn’t even have wireless microphones. Yet, there is a message going out from us that others need to hear. Our mission statement doesn’t say reaching outside the church would be comfortable. But, thanks be to God, bringing the Living Christ to those outside the church has become easier.
- Fr. Dave
Thanks to generous donations to our memorial fund, and the work my son Elijah puts in on Sunday, we have a three-camera, six-microphone live-streaming and digital recording system that captures our worship services and live performances in the church. In 2025, we hit a benchmark I never thought we’d see – we had more people interacting with us online than in person. Since Easter, our online numbers have exponentially increased.
Two weeks before Easter, I had a coffee chat with my friend Fr. Alex Andujar. He said, “I’ve looked at using Opus Clips – it’s an AI app that takes my sermon, cuts it into short sections, adds live captions, and will upload the clips to YouTube automatically.” I asked how much the app is (because it sounds expensive) and he said it’s $20 per month. Surprised and intrigued, I did a little research. Our primary online presence is through YouTube. They are promoting “shorts” which are videos that are less than three minutes long. My research indicated that if someone wants to increase their in-person attendance (or sales, or donations, or participation), they need to create YouTube shorts. I then subscribed All Angels to Opus Clips to try it for a month – two weeks before Easter.
Here's the result: I talked to six people on Easter Sunday who were at All Angels for the first time because they saw a Short I had posted. They encountered a sampling of the Living Christ when they were outside the church that led them to step inside the church.
Since Easter, we have gotten better at digital marketing. Over the last 28 days, our YouTube channel received 29,326 views. On Tuesday and Wednesday (48 hours) we had 4,809 views. Before Easter, we had 188 subscribers. We have 1,266 now. Only 9% of YouTube channels have over 1k subscribers. On average, 34% of our viewers are over the age of 65 and 63% are male.
The most watched television show in history was the Super Bowl in 2024 with 123 million viewers. The average 30-second ad was $7M. In contrast, YouTube has 122 million daily viewers, which makes YouTube the most watched media platform in the world. They gave All Angels a free channel; and thanks to you, and many others, who watch and share our videos, YouTube is starting to promote our mission and ministry to their viewership.
I am excited about this and a little unnerved too. This is not the church I grew up in. We didn’t even have wireless microphones. Yet, there is a message going out from us that others need to hear. Our mission statement doesn’t say reaching outside the church would be comfortable. But, thanks be to God, bringing the Living Christ to those outside the church has become easier.
- Fr. Dave
Green Season
During our weekly podcast (A Bridge Between with Alex and Dave), my friend and co-host Fr. Alex Andujar said that we are entering the “season of green” this Sunday. At All Angels you will see the green altar covering and I will be wearing a green stole.
Why do we have a color-coded Church calendar? What is the green season and why do we do it?
Colors were used by the Church to indicate various seasons during a time when few people had calendars. It’s distinctly a Christian thing (it doesn’t have any direct tie to Jewish custom). The practice started in the 4th century but was not uniform until the 12th. The purple season was a time for penitence, fasting and alms giving.
White is a season of joy and celebration.
Green signifies the time in between penitence and celebration.
Why green for in-between? The book of Scripture and the book of nature show us that green is a color that indicates growth. It also is an ordinary color. Green is all around, especially during this time of year. When you look at trees, you can see green in the tips of the branches and know they are growing. Likewise, green at church symbolizes growth.
The green in-between is the longest season of the Church calendar. It goes all the way through the summer and into Thanksgiving week. For us at All Angels, growth really happens in October when our busy season starts. But, to prepare for our in-season fun, it takes time during the summer to prepare.
I grew up in the Evergreen State (Washington). During the oil crisis, Dad purchased a wood-burning fireplace insert that we used to heat the house instead of our old oil furnace. That meant my brother and I had to chop a lot of wood. I have a strong back to this day thanks to the fact that I had to swing a ten pound axe most days of the week for years and years.
For those who have chopped wood before, you know how hard it is to split green wood. I saw my 10-pound axe blade bounce off of the top of green wood before. If you are unfamiliar with that term, green wood is newly cut, and according to my biology teacher dad, it is still mostly alive. Green wood has a high water content that makes it heavy and very hard to split with an axe. It can be done; I’ve had to do it; but it’s no fun. We had a wedge that had to be pounded in with a sledge hammer – it was the only way to split green wood. But, if we set green wood out to dry for even three weeks, it would be much easier to split.
Metaphorically speaking, this is why I am bringing this subject up about green wood and the green Church season: Green in nature means growth but it also means hard-to-split. The green season for me is a time for us to strengthen our spiritual bond with God, with one’s inner self, and one another. Green spirituality to me is someone whose faith is difficult to split. The axe of life will bounce right off. But, if we take three weeks off from our green spiritual growth, we will be easier to crack. In other words, just because it’s summer, don’t take time off from the season of green at Church.
- Fr. Dave
Why do we have a color-coded Church calendar? What is the green season and why do we do it?
Colors were used by the Church to indicate various seasons during a time when few people had calendars. It’s distinctly a Christian thing (it doesn’t have any direct tie to Jewish custom). The practice started in the 4th century but was not uniform until the 12th. The purple season was a time for penitence, fasting and alms giving.
White is a season of joy and celebration.
Green signifies the time in between penitence and celebration.
Why green for in-between? The book of Scripture and the book of nature show us that green is a color that indicates growth. It also is an ordinary color. Green is all around, especially during this time of year. When you look at trees, you can see green in the tips of the branches and know they are growing. Likewise, green at church symbolizes growth.
The green in-between is the longest season of the Church calendar. It goes all the way through the summer and into Thanksgiving week. For us at All Angels, growth really happens in October when our busy season starts. But, to prepare for our in-season fun, it takes time during the summer to prepare.
I grew up in the Evergreen State (Washington). During the oil crisis, Dad purchased a wood-burning fireplace insert that we used to heat the house instead of our old oil furnace. That meant my brother and I had to chop a lot of wood. I have a strong back to this day thanks to the fact that I had to swing a ten pound axe most days of the week for years and years.
For those who have chopped wood before, you know how hard it is to split green wood. I saw my 10-pound axe blade bounce off of the top of green wood before. If you are unfamiliar with that term, green wood is newly cut, and according to my biology teacher dad, it is still mostly alive. Green wood has a high water content that makes it heavy and very hard to split with an axe. It can be done; I’ve had to do it; but it’s no fun. We had a wedge that had to be pounded in with a sledge hammer – it was the only way to split green wood. But, if we set green wood out to dry for even three weeks, it would be much easier to split.
Metaphorically speaking, this is why I am bringing this subject up about green wood and the green Church season: Green in nature means growth but it also means hard-to-split. The green season for me is a time for us to strengthen our spiritual bond with God, with one’s inner self, and one another. Green spirituality to me is someone whose faith is difficult to split. The axe of life will bounce right off. But, if we take three weeks off from our green spiritual growth, we will be easier to crack. In other words, just because it’s summer, don’t take time off from the season of green at Church.
- Fr. Dave
Trinity Sunday
There are two things going on this Sunday – it is Father’s Day and it is Trinity Sunday. Since it’s beyond my ability to blend the two together, I thought I’d write to you about Trinity Sunday.
What is Trinity Sunday and why do we celebrate it?
In 1334, Pope John the 22nd decreed that all churches celebrate Trinity Sunday on the first Sunday after Pentecost. 691 years later, we are still doing it. In our Anglican faith tradition, we believe Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury (1118-1170) popularized the celebration in England. He believed we need to talk more about the power of the Holy Spirit. Focusing on the Trinity is a good start. This author would like to think that he popularized Trinity Sunday so much that 164 years after his death, a Pope mandated the celebration.
What is the Trinity?
Scripture shows three distinct qualities or “faces” of God – Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer – called Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Creator has particular attributes, Jesus has other features, the Holy Spirit has yet other facets distinct from the other two. Yet (and this is a really big “yet”), God is One. We don’t believe in three separate gods. We are monotheistic which means we believe there is one God. We are also “trinitarians” which means we believe God has three distinct faces – yet is One.
Starting in the 16th century, stories started to circulate about St. Patrick’s (born/died 5th century) use of the three-leaf clover (shamrock) to describe the Holy Trinity. According to legend, Patrick said there are three distinct leaves of the shamrock, yet it is one plant. This explains why some wear a shamrock on Trinity Sunday.
“Trinity” is not found in Scripture. It was a concept developed by the Early Church theologians to describe the Oneness of God. For all intents and purposes the only monotheists in the first century were people of the Jewish faith. Roman and Greek society was enmeshed in a polytheistic system featuring a plethora of gods, idols and religious practices. The Early Church did its best to remain monotheistic, holding true to our Jewish roots, yet also focused on the divinity of Jesus and the work of the Holy Spirit. As a result, we have the Holy Trinity.
What does Trinity Sunday have to do with our life in faith?
We are surrounded and sustained by the third person of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit. Yet of the 226 words of the Nicene Creed, only 37 are dedicated to the Holy Spirit. I love and depend upon the Holy Spirit; it is a living and guiding part of my life. I love Jesus; I love to talk about him and the way he taught us to live. I love nature. I experience the Creator when I’m in nature. But if I had to hold onto just one of the three shamrock leaves, it would be the Holy Spirit. The Spirit inspired me to write this message to you – especially when I wanted to delete it and write something easier. The Holy Spirit is present with me as I prepare and deliver a sermon. The third person of the Trinity guides and governs me and my family. Trinity Sunday reminds me that I don’t have to choose which of the three leaves I’d like to hold onto because as long as I hold one of the three leaves of the Trinity, I am holding onto God.
If you identify with a different leaf, let us celebrate because we are all connected as one in the divine Unity.
- Fr. Dave
What is Trinity Sunday and why do we celebrate it?
In 1334, Pope John the 22nd decreed that all churches celebrate Trinity Sunday on the first Sunday after Pentecost. 691 years later, we are still doing it. In our Anglican faith tradition, we believe Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury (1118-1170) popularized the celebration in England. He believed we need to talk more about the power of the Holy Spirit. Focusing on the Trinity is a good start. This author would like to think that he popularized Trinity Sunday so much that 164 years after his death, a Pope mandated the celebration.
What is the Trinity?
Scripture shows three distinct qualities or “faces” of God – Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer – called Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Creator has particular attributes, Jesus has other features, the Holy Spirit has yet other facets distinct from the other two. Yet (and this is a really big “yet”), God is One. We don’t believe in three separate gods. We are monotheistic which means we believe there is one God. We are also “trinitarians” which means we believe God has three distinct faces – yet is One.
Starting in the 16th century, stories started to circulate about St. Patrick’s (born/died 5th century) use of the three-leaf clover (shamrock) to describe the Holy Trinity. According to legend, Patrick said there are three distinct leaves of the shamrock, yet it is one plant. This explains why some wear a shamrock on Trinity Sunday.
“Trinity” is not found in Scripture. It was a concept developed by the Early Church theologians to describe the Oneness of God. For all intents and purposes the only monotheists in the first century were people of the Jewish faith. Roman and Greek society was enmeshed in a polytheistic system featuring a plethora of gods, idols and religious practices. The Early Church did its best to remain monotheistic, holding true to our Jewish roots, yet also focused on the divinity of Jesus and the work of the Holy Spirit. As a result, we have the Holy Trinity.
What does Trinity Sunday have to do with our life in faith?
We are surrounded and sustained by the third person of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit. Yet of the 226 words of the Nicene Creed, only 37 are dedicated to the Holy Spirit. I love and depend upon the Holy Spirit; it is a living and guiding part of my life. I love Jesus; I love to talk about him and the way he taught us to live. I love nature. I experience the Creator when I’m in nature. But if I had to hold onto just one of the three shamrock leaves, it would be the Holy Spirit. The Spirit inspired me to write this message to you – especially when I wanted to delete it and write something easier. The Holy Spirit is present with me as I prepare and deliver a sermon. The third person of the Trinity guides and governs me and my family. Trinity Sunday reminds me that I don’t have to choose which of the three leaves I’d like to hold onto because as long as I hold one of the three leaves of the Trinity, I am holding onto God.
If you identify with a different leaf, let us celebrate because we are all connected as one in the divine Unity.
- Fr. Dave
The Limiting
A fellow clergy person recently asked me this: Do you believe God is in charge of everything? I asked what he meant by in charge and everything. He said to use the broadest sense of both words – do you believe God is in charge of everything? I replied, “Yes and no.”
Is God in charge? Yes. Of everything? Yes.
Does God exercise God’s power over everything all the time on this side of heaven?
No, not as far as I can tell.
Let’s start with wisdom. I believe that God and Jesus are one. When he was just twelve years old, Jesus was in the Temple teaching the religious leaders and scholars. Later in life, there are stories of how Jesus could perceive what was in the hearts and minds of people. Jesus expressed God's wisdom. Yet, he did not know when the End of Times will be. He said it is not for him to know. Jesus could have known but instead chose to be limited in wisdom. That means to me that God’s plan was to limit wisdom on this side of heaven.
How about love? God is love. God is the source of all love. When we know love we know God. To know God is to know love. Yet, love is limited by choice. God does not force us to love God, or creation, or one another. In fact, forced love is not love at all. Love, in this sense, is limited by God.
How about sin and evil? We are told to confess our sins to God. Why, if God is all-knowing, should we do that? A theology that I have been kicking around in my head is that God – and by extension Jesus – cannot see sin or evil. It is not from them so they cannot perceive it. When I confess, I am filling Jesus in on the times when he did not perceive my thoughts because they were not of him or of love.
Jesus was arrested and sent before King Herod Agrippa. At one point the king started yelling at Jesus to answer him; yet Jesus stood “silent like a lamb before its shearers.” I’d like to think that Jesus couldn’t hear what was being said because it was full of lies and blasphemy. In other words, Jesus was limited in what he could hear and see.
One last point: Jesus told stories that ended with the person in charge – which we understand as God – saying, “I don’t know you.” God didn’t know the person because God couldn’t see what the person was doing because it was not of God’s kingdom. If the person in the story made a confession, then God would know that person. These stories highlight a limiting of God’s perception. God cannot see what God chooses not to see.
What about heaven? Jesus talks about a place where all things happen according to God’s will. Angels serve God there. Humans are there too. It’s a place of absolute joy and peace. It’s a place where “Thy will be done”. Jesus taught us to pray that earth becomes like that place, “as it is in heaven.” Earth can become that place but not because God has forced it into being. On earth as it is in heaven can happen because God has chosen to limit God’s power on earth so that we have the freedom to love, to serve, to confess, and to freely receive God’s grace.
- Fr. Dave
Is God in charge? Yes. Of everything? Yes.
Does God exercise God’s power over everything all the time on this side of heaven?
No, not as far as I can tell.
Let’s start with wisdom. I believe that God and Jesus are one. When he was just twelve years old, Jesus was in the Temple teaching the religious leaders and scholars. Later in life, there are stories of how Jesus could perceive what was in the hearts and minds of people. Jesus expressed God's wisdom. Yet, he did not know when the End of Times will be. He said it is not for him to know. Jesus could have known but instead chose to be limited in wisdom. That means to me that God’s plan was to limit wisdom on this side of heaven.
How about love? God is love. God is the source of all love. When we know love we know God. To know God is to know love. Yet, love is limited by choice. God does not force us to love God, or creation, or one another. In fact, forced love is not love at all. Love, in this sense, is limited by God.
How about sin and evil? We are told to confess our sins to God. Why, if God is all-knowing, should we do that? A theology that I have been kicking around in my head is that God – and by extension Jesus – cannot see sin or evil. It is not from them so they cannot perceive it. When I confess, I am filling Jesus in on the times when he did not perceive my thoughts because they were not of him or of love.
Jesus was arrested and sent before King Herod Agrippa. At one point the king started yelling at Jesus to answer him; yet Jesus stood “silent like a lamb before its shearers.” I’d like to think that Jesus couldn’t hear what was being said because it was full of lies and blasphemy. In other words, Jesus was limited in what he could hear and see.
One last point: Jesus told stories that ended with the person in charge – which we understand as God – saying, “I don’t know you.” God didn’t know the person because God couldn’t see what the person was doing because it was not of God’s kingdom. If the person in the story made a confession, then God would know that person. These stories highlight a limiting of God’s perception. God cannot see what God chooses not to see.
What about heaven? Jesus talks about a place where all things happen according to God’s will. Angels serve God there. Humans are there too. It’s a place of absolute joy and peace. It’s a place where “Thy will be done”. Jesus taught us to pray that earth becomes like that place, “as it is in heaven.” Earth can become that place but not because God has forced it into being. On earth as it is in heaven can happen because God has chosen to limit God’s power on earth so that we have the freedom to love, to serve, to confess, and to freely receive God’s grace.
- Fr. Dave
CAMP
One of the challenges of Episcopal camps is how to take the spiritual mountain top experience of camp and incorporate it into daily life. It’s also the challenge of churches like All Angels, who have meaningful Sunday worship experiences, to incorporate faith throughout the other six days of the week. Here is one way to do it. The process is called C.A.M.P.
C – Choose a Bible passage
A – Ask questions
M – Make it personal
P – Pray daily
Choose a Bible passage. From this Sunday’s Gospel lesson, I chose the following passage:
[The son came to his senses and said to himself] I will get up and go to my father.
Ask questions: What did it take for the son to get up? Did he procrastinate? How much emotional pain did he endure before he decided to “get up”?
Make it personal: What does it take for me to get up and go do something? Where in life do I procrastinate? What am I afraid of?
Pray: God of compassion, the more I procrastinate, the more you show your divine patience. Give me strength to get up and return to you. Save me from the temptations that lead me away from you. Draw me back by the constancy of your love so that I may take my place in your household and share my spiritual inheritance with others. Amen.
Following the C.A.M.P. model, you would reflect on the make-it-personal and then say the prayer daily until next Sunday.
Here's one more. The psalm that has stood out to me this week is 32 verse 5.
Choose a passage: When I confessed my transgressions to the Lord
The Lord forgave me the guilt of my sin.
Ask questions: Why is it that guilt feels like a weight?
Make it personal: Where do I feel that weight of guilt? Am I ready to give it to the Lord?
Pray daily: Lord, I give to you this day the weight of my guilt.
Thank you for lifting my burden.
Thank you for your forgiveness and love. Amen.
And now it’s your turn. If you’d like to continue the worship experience of All Angels throughout your week, you are invited to C.A.M.P.
- Fr. Dave
C – Choose a Bible passage
A – Ask questions
M – Make it personal
P – Pray daily
Choose a Bible passage. From this Sunday’s Gospel lesson, I chose the following passage:
[The son came to his senses and said to himself] I will get up and go to my father.
Ask questions: What did it take for the son to get up? Did he procrastinate? How much emotional pain did he endure before he decided to “get up”?
Make it personal: What does it take for me to get up and go do something? Where in life do I procrastinate? What am I afraid of?
Pray: God of compassion, the more I procrastinate, the more you show your divine patience. Give me strength to get up and return to you. Save me from the temptations that lead me away from you. Draw me back by the constancy of your love so that I may take my place in your household and share my spiritual inheritance with others. Amen.
Following the C.A.M.P. model, you would reflect on the make-it-personal and then say the prayer daily until next Sunday.
Here's one more. The psalm that has stood out to me this week is 32 verse 5.
Choose a passage: When I confessed my transgressions to the Lord
The Lord forgave me the guilt of my sin.
Ask questions: Why is it that guilt feels like a weight?
Make it personal: Where do I feel that weight of guilt? Am I ready to give it to the Lord?
Pray daily: Lord, I give to you this day the weight of my guilt.
Thank you for lifting my burden.
Thank you for your forgiveness and love. Amen.
And now it’s your turn. If you’d like to continue the worship experience of All Angels throughout your week, you are invited to C.A.M.P.
- Fr. Dave
Rector’s Report Annual Meeting 2025
This is our mission: To bring the Living Christ to those inside and outside the Church. Here are some of the ways we have accomplished it over the past twelve months.
To Bring. At All Angels, we bring Christ. We bring Christ with our prayer list. We bring Christ when we invite people to church. Every flower arrangement brings Christ in beauty. We bring Christ in hymnody and song. We bring Christ when we listen with a compassionate ear. We bring Christ when we go in peace to love and serve the Lord. We bring Christ when we sell used art to help those in need. We bring Christ when we maintain our beautiful campus for people in our community to find a place of rest. Our discussion groups and educational offerings bring the unity and wisdom of Christ. We bring Christ when we remember all those for whom we love but see no longer.
The Living Christ. The images we have of Christ in the church are that of the living Christ. The stained-glass window shows Christ walking in nature. The icons of Christ are that of teacher and guide. Our worship services illuminate our ancient faith that is relevant to our lives. We also bring our questions, our doubts and our fears to Christ at our church. No matter where you are in your spiritual journey, you will be welcome and find a living faith in Christ at All Angels.
To Those Inside. The centerpiece of bringing Christ is our in-person worship and fellowship. There is a feeling inside of the church that is joy, peace and unity. Our music program is focused on being an uplifting presence. We have warm and friendly ushers, excellent lay readers, and we offer the sacrament of Holy Communion every Sunday for those inside. Fellowship is one of our strengths; and it is especially important in this time of isolation and loneliness. Fellowship starts inside of the church – our seats have been arranged so that we can greet one another in peace. For those inside, we had a wonderful Christmas Tea and concert, a Spring Fling with tasty barbeque, our Annual Meeting, a harp concert, the dining club and many more fellowship events that are at the heart of our parish life.
And Outside. This is our number one area of growth at All Angels. It all started with adapting to Covid requirements. Nowadays, we offer a high-quality a/v production that brings the specialness of what we do inside the church to those outside. We bring a message of love and peace to those who are familiar with the Episcopal Church, to those new in the Christian faith and to those who struggle with faith. We hosted our Comfort Station (again) for all those whose lives were disrupted by storms. Our parish is home to the Rotary of Longboat Key; we hold almost monthly meetings for various community groups on the island; and we hosted a community event called Finding Our Strength Together After a Loss. We hosted the Interfaith Thanksgiving Service (on very short notice) where we welcomed over 300 people to sing and pray together in one voice giving thanks. All Angels is host to the monthly Interfaith Ministerial meeting where all the island religious leaders support one another in fellowship and prayer. And, because of our outreach programs, we brought dignity and peace to those who struggle to attend school, those who fear eviction, and those who struggle with food insecurity. All of this is done because we bring the Living Christ to those outside.
The Church. That’s us – you and me, we, all of us – we are the Church, the living and active, relevant, helpful and supportive, loving, forgiving, prayerful and rejoicing Body of Christ.
Thank you for inviting and supporting me and my family in our shared life, ministry and mission of bringing the Living Christ to those inside and outside the church.
- Fr. Dave
- Fr. Dave