Believe in the Resurrection? Heck - We've seen it!

If you haven't heard about it, there's recently been a blog battle waged between two of the big, popular Christian thinkers of the day.  The first shot was fired - apparently without any attempt to offend - by author and Theologian-in-Residence at Solomon's Porch, Tony Jones.  On his blog, responding to the question of a reader, Jones casually characterized the view of Christ's resurrection held by Marcus Borg as a feeling that "only happens in the believer's heart," rather than an event that occurred in objective reality.  Borg - the well-known historical Jesus scholar and Canon Theologian at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral - countered by claiming that Jones has misrepresented his take on the Resurrection of Jesus.  Jones allowed that perhaps his original characterization was off the mark, but that Borg's perspective, even with all the nuance it demands, amounts to a denial of the resurrection as a real event.  Finally, Borg followed up with a post in which he further explained his perspective and reiterated the question at the end of his previous post: "does [this] disagreement matter?"

Not a few bloggers have weighed in on this whole debate.  And I certainly have my own thoughts on that matter (some of which can be read in this Easter sermon about zombies and vampires).  But I'd rather talk about another reflection on the resurrection I've heard recently.

Photo by Ben Thomas

The other day, our merry missioner, Bob and I were riding back from a meeting that included some of our fellow clergy in the area.  During our conversation on the drive, it became clear that the negativity of a few of the clergy about their ministries had diminished Bob's usual joviality.  Later in the day, Bob was back in high spirits.  So, I asked him what could have lifted the cloud of gloominess that followed us from the meeting.
He answered, "The Holy Spirit, man."

Bob explained that he had been driving back after presiding at the Eucharist at a nearby church for a rector who was away.  As he was returning to the Southside, the Spirit filled him with her sighs too deep for words.  He saw that old chicken factory that employs so many in and around the Southside.  He saw that motel that doubles as the most affordable housing for those folks and families who otherwise wouldn't have a home - the same motel where Southside Abbey put up a bouncy-castle, some tables-and-chairs, and a grill a few weeks ago, throwing a party to celebrate one year of striving to be the beloved community in this neighborhood.  He saw this neighborhood we call home, for which Southside Abbey has declared a Jubilee Year and begun collecting the funds to make it so.  He saw that the tomb was indeed empty, and - between laughing and crying - he said out loud:  "The Resurrection is real!  There's resurrection all around us!"

In their blog debate, neither Jones nor Borg have addressed why some saw the risen Christ while others did not, and why some at first only saw a gardener or stranger but later recognized him as their resurrected Lord.  But an Anglican priest and theologian, Sarah Coakley has explored those very questions.  Coakley has looked to the teachings of the early Church fathers and mothers on the development of the spiritual senses for recognizing the resurrected Christ and the new creation begun in him.  In the word proclaimed, we learn to hear and receive the voice of the risen one.  Through the liturgy - our common prayer - our deepest desire is reoriented to its true object, the risen Christ, and we come to recognize him in the Eucharistic meal that we share.  But Coakley points out that the development of these spiritual senses brings with it an awareness of real absence, of the cross, of the empty tomb.

This is no less true when we develop our spiritual senses morally, to see the resurrection in the world around us. "By the same token," Coakley writes, "in my moral life, in my intended acts of mercy, though it is Jesus I seek to obey and emulate, it is always in the erasure of expectation that Jesus truly presents himself to me - in the entirely unromantic other, in the exhausting and defeating poverty of my neighbor . . . ."  And it's this real absence, this erasure of expectation, this recognition of the empty tomb as an empty tomb that empties us, dispossesses us, opens us to the Holy Spirit.  For, finally, the development of our spiritual senses only creates the possibility for recognizing the risen Jesus.  To truly see him - in the Eucharist and in the face of those we serve - is to have received him as a gift given "in the incarnational physicality of" the meal we share and the neighbors we serve, through the Holy Spirit.

"The Resurrection is real!  There's resurrection all around us!"
               

        

Giving Consent

“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit…” John 15:16

The “you” chosen and appointed to go in John 15:16 is plural (i.e. “all of you” or “community” - not individual religious rock stars). Of course I like the idea of missional community, of being part of the God’s kingdom as it emerges in new places. But I am not yet comfortable being missional, because the kingdom often appears in places I would rather not go. I eventually witness things I would rather not see. It is a difficult path to follow and not one I would readily choose.

...read the rest here

Jesus Was Right There, in the Bounce House

Until last week, I'd never been involved in a worshipping community's celebration of the completion of its first year; Southside Abbey's one year anniversary changed that.

Think about all that takes place throughout the church year. Ordinary Time becomes the watchfulness of Advent. Incarnation is realized in Epiphany. Lenten fasts are broken by Easter joy. The Great Fifty Days culminate in the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, until once again, time becomes ordinary.

While every parish shares in this rich rhythm, it is different with a new worshiping community. Everything is new. There is no, “we've always done it that way.” At Epiphany, no one thought it odd that we went door-to-door sharing “Episcopal Epiphany Pickles” . . . three hundred pounds of pickles. By Lent, no one batted an eye when soup-making consumed every Sunday . . . so that we could share 400 cups with our neighborhood. 

Our 21st Century interpretation of caring for the feet of the poor became 240 brand new shoes (and the socks to go with them) delivered to the local elementary school . . . no front-page scoop followed. The Pentecost “Tongues of Fire Chili Cook-Off” fed a multitude with close to forty gallons of homemade liquid heat . . . and by now, people were starting to catch on. 

Now, as we look forward to another year, we are also able to tell the story of over 2,000 meals served as a part of worship. It has been a great year. This is what happens when Jesus shows up.

We wanted to celebrate the completion of a year well-lived with a party in true Southside Abbey style. So we decided to worship in the parking lot of a local motel that houses many of the working poor in our neighborhood. We had a grill with hot dogs and veggie burgers, a makeshift altar (complete with flowers picked from a nearby front yard and a piece of barbed-wire found in the parking lot), and a race-car-shaped bounce-house. Nearly 150 people were in attendance for the celebration.

As the celebration was winding down, I noticed a young girl leaving the bounce-house with some determination. I realized that she was headed straight for me. She made her way through the crowd, marched up to me, and hugged me. Her dirt-smudged cheeks had the random tinge of orange frosting. Her hair was matted from little-kid bounce-house sweat. Her clothes were brightly-colored with rainbows and unicorns dancing across the shoulders. This was the most uncomfortable hug of my life . . .

Then, just as soon as she had found me, she pushed her way back through the crowd. I lost her. I still do not know where this child came from, but I know who she really is. I like to think that she was Jesus – right there in the bounce-house – hugging me for what Southside Abbey stepped out in faith to do.

Thank you Southside Abbey for a wonderful year and thank you Jesus for all the hugs. 

This blog post was originally posted on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts Blog on October 3, 2013, and is reprinted with permission.

Missional Churches = Real Churches (Regardless of Size)

I recently had the pleasure of presenting at Episcopal Appalachian Ministries' Mountain Grace Conference, “We(e) Small Voice – Exploring Small and Non-Traditional Church in Appalachia." While there, I was honored to be part of wonderfully honest conversations about how the Holy Spirit is active in Episcopal Churches from Pennsylvania to Georgia. We talked about small churches that were thriving – doing wonderful ministry in, through, and with the communities they serve – and we talked about small churches that were not thriving – with scarcely enough participation or will to continue.

Bishop Ken Price delivered the morning's keynote address, where he sounded the refrain, “Small Churches are Real Churches.” While I appreciated this encouraging message for parishes who really needed to hear it, I will note a trend I saw over the weekend. The small churches that are thriving are those engaged in outwardly focused (what I call missional) activities in their communities. These parishes are doing ministry outside the walls of their buildings, not for the purpose of bringing people through the doors, but for that is where Jesus calls us. There happens to be a side effect of engaging the community in a missional way. As the parish lives into this call – responding in love to the felt needs of the community – more people come through the doors of the building, bringing with them new vitality and creativity.

Other parishes told stories about doing x, y, and z to get people to come into “their” space. I cannot reveal any details as I don't want to embarrass or hurt any of these congregations, but this is a tale that I have heard again and again. When a church, regardless of size, turns the focus inward instead of outward, involvement in the parish begins to shrink as do budgets, numbers, and ministry. What if it really were as simple as turning the focus outward for these parishes?

If our focus is solely inward, it does beg the question, “What is church?” What are we about if we are not about engaging the community outside our walls? Perhaps we are the “Sunday Morning Country Club” that our detractors accuse us of being. Former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, legendarily said, “The Church is the only institution that exists for those who are not yet its members.” How are we doing with that?

 After having participated in EAM's Mountain Grace Conference I can say that the small parishes that are thriving are those that are living into this challenge. So perhaps – with all due respect to the composer, Bishop Price – we might harmonize his refrain, “Small Churches are Real Churches,” with the countermelody, “Missional Churches are Real Churches – Regardless of Size.”

This blog post was originally posted on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts Blog on September 19, 2013, and is reprinted with permission.

Blog Post Featured in Diocese of Central NY's Newsletter

The Episcopal Diocese of Central New York's monthly e-Newsletter, entitled the e-Messenger, picked up a Blog Post by our own Bob Leopold. To see it in context, click here. Thanks Diocese of Central New York and to Andy Pierce, the editor of the Messenger!

Southside Abbey is already planning a summer trip up there to visit.

Their Chance to Lead

This morning I was privileged to see a high school senior give a speech to her entire school. I know her to be a person of deep faith – what kind of high school senior invites her priest to this kind of thing? As she spoke she showed grace, skill, and charisma. I thought to myself, what a wonderful leader she will make someday . . .

Then she danced. She held an auditorium full of teenagers and guests like me in silence, spellbinding us as the grace, skill, and charisma from her words was amplified as it transformed into movement. I was very nearly moved to tears by the beauty of the whole scene. After she took her bows, her schoolmates rushed the stage and embraced her in triumph. The shouts and applause were overwhelming. Thankfully, I was reminded . . .

This proud young lady won't just be a leader someday, she is a leader already. She is a leader right now.

This made me think of an experience at a previous parish I served. A similarly proud young adult put herself out on a limb enough to stand for election to the vestry. When the votes were tallied, she lost. In the days that followed, I heard variations on this conversation: “I didn't vote for her because she is too young. She will have her time to lead.” I restrained myself from saying something like, “Yes. She will lead, it just won't be in the Church. She will lead where she is given a chance to lead and if that is not in the Church, that is clearly our loss.”

How many wonderful church leaders we are holding back right now? How can the Church engage those leaders as leaders (where and when they are) and just allow them to lead. How often do we fall into the trap of seeing the easily definable attribute (such as age) and not seeing the whole person in his or her context?

The most effective ministry is contextual. The young lady I saw dance is a leader in her context. The challenge for the Church is to provide the context for yet-untapped leaders like her, to lead. Looks like I have some phone calls to make (or more appropriately texts to send).

This blog post was originally posted on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts Blog on September 4, 2013, and is reprinted with permission.

More Great Press for Spencer Cantrell

Southside Abbey's own, Spencer Cantrell, made it into Chattanooga's newspaper for his work done in Palestine. Read all about it here.

Southside Abbey is so proud of him.