An Ancient Prayer -- Still Good

One of the places we visited during this summer's walking tour of Cornwall was Saint Wyllow Church in the parish of Lanteglos, which includes the ancient villages of Polruan, Bodinnick, Mixtow, Pont and Lanteglos Highway. Border by the River Fowey (pronounced "Foy") to the east and the Atlantic to the south, it's been settled as far back as the Bronze Age. The name "Lanteglos" is from the old Cornish Nant Eglos, which means "church valley." Many of the surrounding farms date back to the Doomsday records of 1086. Frankly, I don't think that much has changed since then.

The story goes that Saint Wyllow, a Christian hermit, was living nearby in Pont around 596.  Legend has it that he was killed by a relative and beheaded, but he got up and brought his own head to the current location, thus deciding where the church should be built. The building dates mostly from the late fourteenth century.  The tower is 70 feet tall, in four stages and stands on four piers.  The belfry has six bells (described as ‘silver tongued’ by Sir Arthur Quiller Couch).

It's a quiet and peaceful place. The church is old and musty and the gravestones are lichen-covered. But I could tell that it was still a vibrant parish because in the back corner of the nave was a children's corner full of scattered toys and crayons. And there was a sticky-note posted on the bulletin board dated from the previous day that said, "Dear Claudia, I'll be back on Tuesday evening to pick up the leftover dishes. Love, Susan."

As I left, I picked up a xerox copy of something entitled "An Ancient Prayer."

Give me a good digestion, Lord,

And also something to digest.

Give me a healthy body, Lord,

With sense to keep it at its best.

Give me a healthy mind, O Lord,

To keep the good and pure in sight,

Which seeing wrong is not appalled,

But finds a way to set it right.

Give me a mind that is not bored,

That does not whimper, whine or sigh.

Don't let me worry overmuch 

About that fussy thing called "I."

Give me a sense of humor, Lord,

Give me the grace to see a joke,

To get some happiness from life

And pass it on to other folk.

It seems to me that pretty much everything that's important is covered in this prayer, and when I read it now I wonder who wrote it, and how long ago. I think about the centuries of Cornish people who have worshipped in this place, and those who worship here still. I say a prayer for them, and remember these words written by Saint Paul in 1 Corinthians 3:10: "According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building on it. Each builder must choose with care how to build on it.

Now that I've re-discovered this piece of paper, in the pile of brochures and other papers from that trip, I think I'll begin using it on a daily basis. At least for a while.

Writing, Speaking and Connecting

Yesterday was the fortieth anniversary of the ordination of Father John Wires, who often serves as supply clergy at Grace Church. We celebrated this during and after the 10:00 am Choral Eucharist -- he preached during and we had a cake after. We love cake almost as much as we love wine, and cake goes much better with after-church coffee.

I enjoy Father John's sermons because his voice is deep and clear, and I always learn something new. This time was no different. In a sermon entitled "Orally Speaking" he preached about the importance of words, and of speech, to communicate things of great importance. In Genesis we're told the story of creation, how God says words such as "Let there be light" and these things miraculously appear. John begins his gospel with the words, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." 

What I didn't realize before Father John mentioned it was that written words were originally meant to be read aloud. (How did I miss that in my otherwise-excellent liberal arts education?) In ancient times, documents were read aloud so that the illiterate (which included most people) could benefit. The Romans, who were great orators, were in the habit of "declaiming" a text, even in private. But after St. Augustine of Hippo visited St. Ambrose of Milan, he wrote the following in Book 6, chapter 3 of his Confessions:

"When [Ambrose] read, his eyes scanned the page and his heart sought out the meaning, but his voice was silent and his tongue was still. Anyone could approach him freely and guests were not commonly announced, so that often, when we came to visit him, we found him reading like this in silence, for he never read aloud."

Augustine probably would not have mentioned this if it hadn't struck him as something entirely unusual.

Why do I think this is important? Because I think it marks a change in human culture.  Reading aloud was usually a social activity that included a reader and an audience. There were probably times when the audience would listen quietly and respectfully, but I bet there were plenty of times when the audience would add comments and maybe engage in a little heckling (I'm thinking of today's political speeches). But even if it involves communication from the writer to the reader, silent reading isn't a social activity because it isn't two-way communication. It's something interior, which involves listening to not only the "voice" of the writer, but also the reader's quiet inner voice that lends personal meaning that is unique to each and every reader.

I wonder whether we are currently experiencing a further change in human culture as a result of social media, texting and electronic gaming. In the past I might have telephoned a friend to share something I thought she would be interested in; now I'm more likely to post it on her Facebook page. I've heard other people (far younger than me) complain when someone leaves them a voicemail message instead of just texting. And playing web-based versions of "Words With Friends" has taken the place of sitting around the Scrabble board. I bet that you've also seen a photo or cartoon of two people sitting side by side (or back to back), texting each other.

I know that some elementary schools have stopped teaching cursive writing and replaced it with keyboarding skills. Even my own handwriting, once elegant, has atrophied from lack of practice. It doesn't just "flow from the pen" any more. (Sigh.) Language seems to be changing so that complete thoughts can be made to fit into 40-character spaces (LOL). And it's impossible to read someone's body language in an email message.

I hope you'll believe me when I tell you that I'm not necessarily complaining about this. There are definite advantages. I love to receive pictures and funny memes. I can now stay in touch with more people than I ever did before, no matter how far away they are. In fact, less than two weeks ago I spent time with two friends in Toronto -- it was the first time the three of us got together since sixth grade, fifty years ago, and we reconnected through Facebook.

But I do wonder whether we will lose some amount of skill in face-to-face oral communication, just through lack of practice. Will we lose the ability to connect closely with others? Maybe Skype will solve that problem. And will there be anyone left to read the handwritten documents of yesterday? Maybe not, but I won't worry about it, I'm sure there will be an app for that.

A Red Letter Day for Civil Rights

Today is a "red letter day" when we celebrate Jonathan Myrick Daniels (March 20, 1939 – August 20, 1965), an Episcopal seminarian who was killed for his work in the American civil rights movement. His death helped galvanize support for the civil rights movement within the Episcopal church.

 Born in New Hampshire, Jonathan Myrick Daniels joined the Episcopal Church as a young man and considered a career in the ministry as early as high school. He began to question his religious faith during his sophomore year of high school, possibly because his father died and his sister Emily suffered an extended illness. He graduated as valedictorian of his class at the Virginia Military Institute and, in the fall of 1961, entered Harvard University to study English Literature. In the spring of 1962 Daniels was attending an Easter service at the Church of the Advent in Boston, and suddenly felt his doubt disappear, to be replaced with a renewed conviction that he was being called to serve God. Soon after he decided to pursue ordination and was accepted to the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Massachusetts, starting his studies in 1963 and expecting to graduate in 1966.

In March 1965, Daniels answered the call of Dr. Martin Luther King, who asked that students and clergy come to Selma, Alabama, to take part in a march to the state capital in Montgomery. Daniels and several other seminary students left for Alabama on Thursday and had intended to only stay the weekend, but realized how badly it must appear to the native civil rights workers that they were only willing to stay a few days. Convinced they should stay longer, Daniels and one other student went back to school just long enough to request permission to spend the rest of the semester in Selma, studying on their own and returning at the end of the term to take exams. Daniels stayed with a local African-American family and devoted himself to integrating the local Episcopal church, taking groups of young African-Americans to the church, where they were usually scowled at or ignored. In May Daniels traveled back to school to take his semester exams and, having passed, went back to Alabama in July to continue his work.

The following heartfelt words, written by Daniels, are taken from American Martyr: The Jon Daniels Story by William J Schneider, copyright 1992.

“There are good men here, just as there are bad men. There are competent leaders and a bungler here and there. We have activists who risk their lives to confront a people with the challenge of freedom and a nation with its conscience. We have neutralists who cautiously seek to calm troubled waters. We have men about the work of reconciliation who are willing to reflect upon the cost and pay it. Perhaps at one time or another the two of us are all of these. Sometimes we take to the streets, sometimes we yawn through interminable meetings. Sometimes we talk with white men in their homes and offices, sometimes we sit out a murderous night with an alcoholic and his family because we love them and cannot stand apart. Sometimes we confront the posse, and sometimes we hold a child. Sometimes we stand with men who have learned to hate, and sometimes we must stand a little apart from them. Our life in Selma is filled with ambiguity, and in that we share with men everywhere. We are beginning to see as we never saw before that we are truly in the world and yet ultimately not of it. For through the bramble bush of doubt and fear and supposed success we are groping our way to the realization that above all else, we are called to be saints. That is the mission of the Church everywhere. And in this, Selma, Alabama, is like all the world: it needs the life and witness of militant saints. “

On August 14, 1965, Daniels and 28 other protesters picketed whites-only stores in the small town of Fort Deposit, Alabama. All of the protesters were arrested and taken to jail in the nearby town of Hayneville. Five juvenile protesters were released the next day. The rest of the group was held for six days; they refused to accept bail unless everyone was bailed. Finally, on August 20, the prisoners were released without transport back to Fort Deposit. After release, the group waited by a road near the jail. Daniels with three others—a white Catholic priest and two female black protesters—went down the street to get a cold soft drink at Varner's Cash Store, one of the few local stores that would serve nonwhites. They were met at the front by Tom L. Coleman, an engineer for the state highway department and unpaid special deputy, who wielded a shotgun. The man threatened the group, and finally leveled his gun at seventeen-year-old Ruby Sales. Daniels pushed Sales down to the ground and caught the full blast of the gun. He was killed instantly. The priest, Richard F. Morrisroe, grabbed Joyce Bailey, the other protester, and ran. Coleman was acquitted of manslaughter charges by an all-white jury.

The murder of an educated, white, priest-in-training who was defending an unarmed teenage girl helped shock the Episcopal Church into facing the reality of racial inequality that it had tacitly participated in and continued. Daniels' death helped put civil rights on the map as a goal for the church as a whole, and reminded many Episcopalians that this struggle was not nearly so distant as they had imagined it to be. In 1991, Jonathan Myrick Daniels was designated a martyr of the Episcopal Church, one of fifteen modern-day martyrs, and August 14 was designated as a day of remembrance for the sacrifice of Daniels and all the martyrs of the civil rights movement.

Ruby Sales, the teenager whose life Daniels saved, went on to attend Episcopal Theological School (now Episcopal Divinity School), and has gone on to work as a human rights advocate in Washington, D.C. as well as founding an inner-city mission dedicated to Daniels.

Virginia Military Institute created the Jonathan Daniels Humanitarian Award in 1998, of which former President Jimmy Carter has been a recipient.

Rosebuds, Lilies and "I Like Ike"

In the July/August issue of AARP Bulletin, editor Jim Toedtman provides an interesting thought-piece entitled "All Together, Let's Like Ike." In it he talks about Former President Eisenhower's concerns for the future, and quotes from his televised farewell address:

"As we peer into society's future, we-you and I, and our government-must avoid the impulse to live only for today, plundering, for our own ease and convenience, the precious resources of tomorrow. We cannot mortgage the material assets of our grandchildren without risking the loss also of their political and spiritual heritage. We want democracy to survive for all generations to come, not to become the insolvent phantom of tomorrow."

Toedtman urges his readers to decide what we want government to do, and then find the means to finance it; to rebalance our spending and the taxes we pay in a way that relies less of selfishness (today) and more on the resources of tomorrow. He ends with this: "Our challenge is to balance our short-term desires with future needs."

Poet Robert Herrick (1591-1674) also wrote about the dynamic tension between the present and the future in his poem Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May (To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time).

"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying:

And this same flower that smiles today

To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of Heaven, the sun,

The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run.

And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry:

For having lost but once your prime,

You may for ever tarry."

Some people believe that the message of this poem is to live only for today. Herrick certainly offers incentive and enthusiasm for living life fully, seizing opportunities as they appear, and making the most of every day. He does not, however, advise against preparing for tomorrow. He just doesn't address that need.

In Matthew 6:25-34, Jesus offers us his advice.

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today."

When Jesus says "do not worry about tomorrow" he doesn't necessarily mean do not do anything to prepare for the future. After all, in the Parable of the Ten Virgins (Matthew 25:1-13) Jesus gives advice about being prepared. Instead, Jesus is saying that if we "strive for the kingdom of God and his righteousness," we will receive what we need. If we strive to be the kind of people that God created in his own image -- just, compassionate, loving, charitable -- then we will all be blessed with God's bounty.

"From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace." (John 1:16)

Finding Grace in Unlikely Places

Brad and I are on a plane to London. Dinner is over and I head back to the toilet for a quick visit before settling down to watch a movie. A few minutes later I return to my seat and Brad asks me why I'm smiling. I tell him that it was the first spiritual experience that I've ever had on an airplane. I hasten to add, "No, I haven't really lost my mind."

In case the photo is too blurry for you to read, the bottle of hand soap reads:

"pure grace ... with clean hands we find our grace. we realize the slate can be as clean as we allow it to be"

Think about it.

What Not to Wear ... to Worship

I never expected this to be the subject of a front page article in the Washington Post, so I was surprised to see Michelle Boorstein's article on the front page of Saturday's print edition.

"Churches grapple with clothing and what’s appropriate as summer heats up"

I won't quote from or summarize the article, because you can click on it and read it yourself. But it did cause me to examine my own views on this subject.

When I was a child in the 1950's women wore dresses, hats, stockings and gloves (white for summer) when they went to church, regardless of the weather.  Men wore suit and tie ... always.  But this is what they wore for all "dressy" occasions that took place during the daytime.  Times have indeed changed.  More casual clothing -- what I call "nice casual" as opposed to faded jeans and T-shirts -- is now de rigueur for most restaurants, parties and events.

Those who support more relaxed dress codes do so on the basis that congregants should come to God just as they are, and that communion with God requires no special clothing. Those who support more formal dress consider that although communion with God does indeed not require special clothing, a church service is an office of devotion and as a matter of respect, it is therefore appropriate to wear one's best attire.

In his essay "Clothing Matters: What We Wear to Church," Duane Litfin argues that what we wear to worship DOES matter. "In the Old Testament, the place of worship and everything about it was considered holy. Worshipers were taught to approach that "sacred space" with awe and reverence. Today, God's people, both individually and corporately, do not visit that sacred space; they constitute that sacred space." Although he doesn't suggest that we all return to the white-gloves-and-hat days, Duane makes a good case for making a little extra effort to look clean, modest and respectable.  I can't help but agree.

Nevertheless, I think it's more important to come to church, and to participate in corporate worship, than it is to worry about what I'm wearing.  If I'm doing something else during the day on Sunday, and just barely make it to the 5:00 pm service, I'm going to attend regardless of what I'm wearing rather than miss Sunday worship entirely.   I believe that God would rather have me there, and I KNOW that I would rather have me there.

I would rather see a church full of people in all varieties of dress than a church only half-full of well-dressed parishioners.  I want my church to welcome teenagers in tank tops and flip flops.  I want poor visitors to feel welcome at the communion rail, even if they spent the night in a shelter and didn't have an opportunity to shower.  In the words of Charlotte Elliott's hymn, I believe that if we come, God will receive me "just as I am."

"Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,

Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;

Because Thy promise I believe,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come."

Just as God receives us as we are, I pray they we may receive each other with grace and love.

What do you think?

What is Grace?

"For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God." (Ephesians 2:8)

What is grace? Grace is soft like the wing of a dove. It’s quiet but not silent, like the murmur of a stream or the rustle of a gentle breeze. It’s easy on the eye, soft grey or light blue. It’s comforting, like a light cotton blanket on a chilly evening. If grace has a taste, it’s like a drink of cool, fresh water.

When I started this blog, I called it “Graceful Worship” because that’s the name of my column in our monthly church newsletter. (Our church is Grace Church, and most of the time my column addresses how we worship, and why.) It recently struck me that I write about grace all the time, without ever having done any research about what grace really is. (I was about to write “Grace isn’t something you should take for granted” but then I stopped … because grace IS something you can take for granted. More on that later...)

As usual, I went to several dictionaries first, and discovered that the word “grace” comes from Middle English, via Old French, and originally from Latin gratia, meaning “pleasing” or “thankful.” In modern English it has three different possible meanings.

1.      Unmerited or unearned divine assistance, approval or favor given to human beings for their regeneration or sanctification. From this connotation we get phrases like “state of grace” or “in his good graces.”

2.      Special privilege or clemency, such as can be bestowed by a member of the nobility. From this we get phrases such as the title “Your Grace” for an English Duke, “grace and favour” for a property leased rent-free by a King or Queen to a retainer, or “grace period” as a temporary reprieve.

3.      Beauty and elegance of form or action. From this we get “graceful” dancers or “the social graces.”

All three of these meanings relate back to the Latin root meaning of “pleasing” or “thankful.” But it probably won’t come as any surprise that I’m now going to focus on the first meaning, divine grace.

In the Old Testament, the Hebrew term used is chen, which is defined in Strong's Concordance as "favor, grace or charm; grace is the moral quality of kindness, displaying a favorable disposition". In the King James translation, chen is translated as "grace" 38 times, "favor" 26 times, twice as "gracious", once as "pleasant" and once as "precious". In the New Testament, the word translated as grace is the Greek word charis, for which Strong's gives this definition: “Grace, the state of kindness and favor towards someone, often with a focus on a benefit given to the object.” A Greek word that is related to charis is charisma (gracious gift). Both these words originated from another Greek word chairo (to rejoice, be glad, delighted).

Divine grace is a term used in many religions, and can mean the divine influence that operates in human beings to regenerate and sanctify, to inspire virtuous impulses, and to impart strength to endure trial and resist temptation. Christian grace is the free and unmerited favor of God as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowing of blessings. When Roman Catholics pray the Rosary, they say “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee” because the mother of Jesus didn’t do anything special to merit the blessing of being the mother of Jesus.

God extends grace to all of mankind throughout all ages and conditions. This is the grace which brings the seasons, the rains, the sunshine and the revelation of God within nature. I think of Psalms 145:9, "The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works."

We often think of the Holy Spirit when we think of grace. Grace is a gift of the Holy Spirit, the result of the Holy Spirit working in our lives. The Holy Spirit performs the action, and grace is the result.

Christian teaching tells us that grace is “unmerited,” but this definition doesn’t exactly cover all uses of the term in scripture. For example, Luke 2:40 says "And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him." In this example, when using the definition of grace to mean unmerited favor, it does not make sense that the sinless Christ would need this. How can one fall short of grace in James 4:6 (“God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble”), or how can meekness attract it and pride repel it in Galatians 5:4 (“You who want to be justified by the law have cut yourselves off from Christ; you have fallen away from grace”), if it is unmerited. James Ryle, founder of TruthWorks Ministry, suggests that "Grace is the empowering presence of God enabling you to be who He created you to be, and to do what He has called you to do." Bill Gothard, founder of the Institute in Basic Life Principles, suggests that "Grace gives us the desire and the power that God gives us to do his will."

Within Christianity there are differing concepts of grace, and Roman Catholics and Protestants often use the word in substantially different ways. It is described by Charles C. Ryrie in The Grace of God as “the watershed that divides Catholicism from Protestantism, Calvinism from Arminianism, and modern liberalism from conservatism.” Roman Catholic doctrine teaches that God has imparted Divine Grace upon humanity, and uses the sacraments to facilitate the reception of his grace. In the Catholic Church a state of grace is granted by God from baptism first, instead of plainly by faith, and from the sacrament of reconciliation after if a mortal sin is committed. A mortal sin makes the state of grace lost even if faith is still present. Protestants, generally, do not share this sacramental view. We believe that Divine Grace is directly and always available to mankind.

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." 

(2 Thessalonians 1:2)