Christ of Maryknoll

“Christ of Maryknoll”, Br. Robert Lentz, OFM

This past Sunday I worshipped again with the Sophia Community, a missional Episcopal altar in Eagle Rock, CA, a trendy suburb of Los Angeles. Our priest, Mother Marianne, gave a beautiful homily on the occasion of the first Sunday in Lent in dialogue with the above icon. You should really go read the text of her sermon, here.

She asked us to consider how we initially interpret the icon. Is Jesus a refugee trying to overcome a border barrier? Have we somehow imprisoned Jesus? Is he trying to break us out of our own prison?

I’ll admit that even though the icon was painted in 2002, I immediately saw Christ as a refugee. But as I began to sit with it throughout the service and into the next day, I more deeply saw myself as the one behind a barrier. Jesus appeared to me almost painfully, but gently, talking to the wounded animal in my own heart, gently coaxing it into the fear of freedom.

Things I’ve Been Reading

God is not dead.
God is bread.
The bread is rising!
Bread means revolution.
Organize for a new world.
Make the church a people’s church.
Wash off your brother’s blood.
The streets belong to the people.
And the church belongs to the streets.
In the midst of occupied territory,
The liberated zone is here.

—New York Young Lords,
“Celebration for a People’s Church”

I’m in the middle of auditing a class on Anti-Capitalist movements and Christianity at the Institute for Christian Studies in Toronto, ON. Last week we covered the Black Panther Party, this week it’s the Young Lords and People’s Church movements.

It’s been a while since my faith has been so regularly and systematically challenged, and I am relishing this opportunity to reframe and reconstitute the lenses through which I evaluate theology, particularly in the United States.

A Lenten Reflection

Every year, our parish asks the congregation to submit reflections on assigned scriptures for our Lenten Reflection book. This year, I was given the creation narrative in Genesis 1 (v1-26). Check out the sum of our congregation’s reflections here.

And God saw that it was all very good.

It is sometimes hard for me to affirm that the world as I see it is still the good thing that God made. More often than not, when I look around I do not see the very good. I see the very bad, the very unjust, the very oppressed, and the very poor.

It often takes work — work that I don’t always want to do — to see the very good hiding within and behind the very bad. I think this is common enough, even for those who would have first heard this story gathered around campfires under the very stars that God made. Why else would God remind us so often in the creation narrative that every step in the process is good? I am comforted that I am not the only one who needs such reminding. I am also comforted by the chance to repent of my inability to see as God sees. Every Sunday, we acknowledge to God that: “We have denied your goodness in each other, in ourselves, and in the world you have created.” We ask forgiveness for our lack of sight, and we go out into the world to practice seeing the good once more.

If Lent is a chance to strip away the things that blind us to the goodness of God, perhaps it is also a chance to remove those things that blind us to the goodness of the world God made as well.

Compline for Absalom Jones

Absalom Jones was the first person of color ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. Born into slavery in 1742, Jones, through circumstances that are an exception to the barbarism of the slavocracy, achieved much. When he married he solicited donations to purchase his wife’s freedom so that their children would be free (according to the laws of the time). He learned to read and write, was allowed to travel and preach freely by the household we was part of. He petitioned for his freedom, and after a failed first attempt, prevailed upon his owner, who became influenced by moral arguments against slavery. He was licensed to preach in the Methodist movement, but after experiencing severe discrimination, found a home in the Episcopal Church. He founded the first black congregation in the US. It was at this parish that he was ordained, first to the diaconate, and then to the priesthood. His is an amazing story, but we should remember his was an exceptional story for it’s time. Slavery was often not just a loss of freedom, but a vicious destruction of personhood.

For his fortitude, wisdom, and role in the Church, Absalom Jones is remembered as a saint, and his feast is celebrated on February 13th, or on the closest Sunday at parish discretion.

Yesterday I officiated a Compline service st St. John’s Cathedral where they had, that morning, celebrated the feast of Absalom Jones. It felt appropriate to remember him in our prayers as we kept watch that night.

Join with us this week as we pray:

Set us free, O heavenly God, from every bond of prejudice and fear: that, honoring the steadfast courage of thy servant Absalom Jones, we may show forth in our lives the reconciling love and true freedom of the children of God, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

In the name of Christ we say: Amen.

God of Justice, help us, your church, find our voice. Empower us to change this broken world and to protest the needless death, sickness, and poverty that runs rampant in our world. Give us power to rise above our fear that nothing can be done, and grant us the conviction to advocate for change. For your dream of love and harmony, Loving God, Make us instruments of your peace.

In the name of Christ we say: Amen.

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake.

In the name of Christ we say: Amen.

Writing Again and Gender Neutrality

Grad school starts in eight days. After moving two months ago and being gone three out of the last four weeks I am ready. I have been feeling like a small child waiting for summer for quite a while, and so caught up in my feelings was I that I had yet to remember that, actually, I am just a little bit scared. I am pursuing a Masters in Theology and Ministry (Art emphasis), with only the four required Bible/Theology courses from undergrad (and Hermeneutics from high school) as academic preparation.  I feel just a bit out of my element. Yesterday I posted on Facebook for help in deciding which Bible translation to purchase. 15 comments were made before the day was a out.

Gender “neutrality” and “inclusivity” was a rather significant issue for many friends. Translations were recommended both because they were inclusive and not inclusive. I was struck at how each view believed something different about the two issues. Social conservative Christians generally lament gender neutrality which manifests in inclusive language, often because they feel it is a capitulation to liberal/feminist cultural values of political correctness. For some, the idea of a slippery slope is worrisome, if the genders are neutered in language, then soon enough we’ll have women preaching over men, open homosexuality etc. etc. For others, the desire is to preserve the inherent differences and experiences of maleness and femaleness. For myself, inclusivity is never a bad thing if it is already in the text, but neutering “the man” or “the woman” into “the person” seems both unnecessary and possibly deceitful. When we give up the specific for the general or the story for the extrapolation, I am always a bit wary. It seems to me that there has been a very good attempt to more closely translate the intent of the text in recent years (i.e. using humankind instead of mankind when the text intends so), acknowledging that many communal words were translated male because the original text has gendered nouns (unlike English). Especially in the Genesis narratives, the specifics of Ancient Hebrew become incredibly important and un-nuanced translation can have lasting implications in our daily working theologies. This is the chief reason I want to take Hebrew while here, and why I am rather disappointed that I am not currently enrolled in a languages class.

The tone of this blog will be slightly more academic, I hope, though I tend to write colloquially, so we will see what happens. I have been a rather inconsistent blogger in my life and for the sake of consistency the goal will be to do a summary of sorts of the material covered/new ideas each week. My focus of study will concern the interaction of art making and understanding the heart of God and it is primarily that journey that I hope to share with you all. Although, depending on the classes, the topics may change slightly from quarter to quarter—you have been warned.

Comments are welcomed and will be moderated.