Vicar of Grace

Hey All —

I have been praying this week.  Or, I should say that I have been praying more this week, and perhaps even more honestly.  I do often wonder about prayer-how it “works,” who’s listening, that sort of thing.  Jesus said, when you pray, go into your “closet”-alone.  Don’t stand on a street corner or in some public arena for all to see, but go inside, alone, to a “secret” place-and God, who sees and hears those secrets, will then hear your prayer.  So quietly, and alone, in my car; alone at home; I say my prayers.  Ironically, it’s hard for me to find that “secret” sanctuary when I’m at Grace.  Grace is my public place, and to pray I want that place that is alone.  The only time that isn’t true is a Sunday morning, when together we find that one voice of prayer.

In any case, there has been reason to pray this week.  More than other weeks?  Not really-I’m just feeling it more.  I think of families struggling with unbelievable life decisions, and I pray.  I step inside hospital rooms, and I pray.  I think of Hospice nurses and the care-givers within our community, and I pray.  And yes, through that prayer, something happens.  More than anything else, prayer for me is a kind of internal navigation-a way to locate myself in the world through a kind of spiritual triangulation.  One point of the triangle is the person or the circumstance that moves me to pray; another point is the One hearing my prayer.  God is somewhere, everywhere, receiving my “signal.”  And then, with those two points located, I find myself.  I notice the sound of my voice or the words of my heart-and I sense my truest self.  I feel how much I want someone healed, or a father to know peace, or a husband and wife to find comfort, a mother to know she is good-and a war-all war-to be done.  I pray, and I know heart’s desire, and in that knowledge, I change and perhaps, somehow become a vessel through which Light and Grace can flow.  It happens to all of us-when we pray.

This Sunday, with our group of Grace Pilgrims, I will once again venture out into the Wild Wilderness.  Out there we will do what Pilgrims have done for thousands of years-we will be opened to awe and wonder and we will touch our boundaries and meet our limits, and then move past them.  In other words, we will find ourselves “out there,” and thereby we will be prayer in action.  As has become our tradition, we will be blessing and sending the Pilgrims at the 9:30 service, and they will collect and carry your prayers with them.  If you are here this Sunday, you can write your prayer and we will bring them with us-and carry them every step of the way until we release them into the Night Sky deep in the Sawtooth Mountains.  And whether you are here this Sunday or not, we will pray for you-in order to find ourselves.  Please pray for us-and each other.

Hey All–

I’m at Summer Camp right now.  I am very, very lucky.  That this can actually be called “work” seems amazing.  As most of you know, I carve out a bit of time each Summer to be a Chaplain at Camp Dudley, in upstate New York.  It’s located at the foot of the Adirondacks and right on the shores of Lake Champlain.  Every day the sun sets behind those Adirondacks, and then rises every new day above the green mountains in Vermont, just across the lake.  In other words, here at Camp we are surrounded by mountains and water-and it does feel a lot like home.

But it’s not home, and that’s why being here is good for the soul.  My soul.  And the soul of the other 300 or so boys running around this place.  My job here is pretty simple: I preach on Sunday morning.  Other than that, I might do Vespers in cabins before bed, or I could end up cleaning tents in the Hike Hut.  I might sit down with a homesick 11 year old, or just smile from a big Adirondack chair on the Theater porch as young boys play, banter and build friendships.  I’m reminded in all of this that being at Camp stirs up in me the longing and dreams for the kind of community I imagine  in church life.  Here at Camp there’s really no clear sense of “who’s in charge.”  Sure, there’s some obvious leadership.  And there is indeed a Director, who carries the walkie talkie and the whistle.  He moves around a lot, looks busy, but always seems to have time to talk with one kid.  And there are program directors, area directors, maintenance guys; there are coaches and lifeguards and women who teach you how to silk-screen or weave a lanyard.  But the real leader in any given moment, with any given boy, might be a 17 year old cabin counselor who spends two hours teaching a 12 year old from Baltimore how to swim, or who sits up with him in the middle of the night when he misses the lights and sounds of his city.  Here, somehow, there is always time, always someone, always company and connection.  And under it is this sense that “this” is how life is meant to be-just like this.

Sure, what boys like about Camp (including this boy, and his sons) is days on end in the same shorts, no wallet, no clocks, walking to breakfast in your pajamas and flip-flops with your hair standing up and not a worry at all.  But underneath that is something more substantial, more completely human-something we all share.  Here at Camp life is simple, in that honest, unsentimental way.  Hungers are satisfied, love is found, laughter happens, joy is unbridled, tears are allowed.  There’s nothing like a week at Camp.  Or a Sunday morning at Grace.  Either way, it’s life as it could be-and sometimes is.

Hey All–

“Is this the real life . . . ?”

If you’re of a certain age–or just enjoy popular culture–then you can’t even ask that question without hearing Freddie Mercury’s beautiful voice singing back “. . . is this just fantasy?”  I keep looking back at the Bishop’s visit two Sundays ago asking those questions: was that real?  Was it really us?  The answer comes back a clear and simple “yes!”  I have dreams for Grace, and sometimes I worry that the dreams are nothing more than smoke screen and fantasy, but on that particular Sunday I knew the dreams were very real.  Truly, our hearts sang–with Holly and Hannah, and all those kids singing loud and proud for peace and hope.  We laughed.  The Bishop–Greg–was funny, open, real.  We blessed and installed Arienne–that was very, very real and a dream that became reality through both planning and persistence.  Most of all, there was worship, praise, honesty, thoughtfulness, and people of Grace who committed themselves to lives lived in faith.  And it all happened.  It was the real world.

Sure, church life can often be divorced from “reality.”  One of my deepest hopes for Grace is that we will live a real life, together.  That we will know who are and even “why” we are.  Last week, following Greg’s visit, we all received an invitation from our Bishop’s Committee–those folk entrusted with helping us stay real.  They want our participation and input as they–and we–try to shape vision and plans for Grace.  The invitation came with a draft description of a purpose and focus statement for Grace (click right here to see it again–and be reminded).  Of course organizations create statements like this all the time, and then they get tested by real people and real life.  Personally, as Grace grows and evolves, I see the risk of losing some sense of our deepest core values.  We can easily be tempted toward the fantasy of being all things to everyone.  This statement and invitation from the Bishop’s Committee provides a solid, real reminder of the things that matter most to us; the things that can become a solid, strategic road map as we try to do that honest work of allocating time and dollars.  But it makes sense for us to talk about this together–to test the theory.  The Bishop’s Committee carries the responsibility to dream and imagine, and also to test and prove.  I hope you’ll help them do that.  Find a way to participate.  Listen to other Grace folk, and add your own heart and mind.  There are four distinct opportunities so pick one, and join in.  Even if you’ve never done this kind of thing before at Grace, become an “owner” of this place we love.

Session 1/Thursday, July 8                             7-8:30pm                        Past BC members
Session 2/Friday, July 9                                 10-11:30am                     Open to all
Session 3/Wednesday, July 14                       7-8:30pm                        Men of Grace
Session 4/Thursday, July 15                           7-8:30pm                        Open to all
In the real world I dream of living in, people work together to create a life that somehow makes it easier for everyone to do good, and to be good.  I honestly think that the focus and purpose being suggested for Grace can help that happen.  Faith and Spirit; Children and Youth; Compassion and Justice-these are the things that enliven us, and could shape us for years to come.  Linked with our primary principles of Inclusion, Service, Discovery and Gratitude I see a real world taking shape.  What do you see?  Let’s find out together-and (this is no cliché) let’s keep Grace real.
BTW: Still hearing Freddie Mercury’s voice?

Hey All–

The Graduate(s)

The honest charm of a High School graduation is obvious.  It may seem that the individual and family moments leading up to graduation are perfectly predictable and haven’t changed in generations, yet they are nevertheless beautifully unique for every graduate and his or her family.  Over many, many years I have written dozens of letters to graduates-”GradGrams” as they are called at Bainbridge High School.  It’s a beautiful, thing, these notes.  Family members, old friends, coaches, teachers, pastors-they all get a chance at one more bit of advice.  Or maybe even wisdom.  This year, as in many recent years, I am writing letters to kids-people!-I’ve known for lots of years.  Some since they were 3 or 4 or 5 years old.  It’s always a challenge to figure out what to say-to be real and true and honest, and even faithful.  That same challenge is facing me as I think about speaking to the graduates at Baccalaureate next Sunday.

So what is there to say, faithfully, to these graduates?  What stories to pass on?  What words of hope and inspiration?  I wonder so often about how to “pass on” faith.  How to make this faith that has shaped my life matter to another generation, and then another one after that.  It takes more than modeling and teaching-it takes a freedom to question and experience. What moves and shapes people is experience, not beautifully crafted doctrine and philosophy.   And those of us charged with passing off and handing down have to be honestly aware that faith evolves-it is not static.  It cannot be static.  A recent Facebook conversation with a 17 year old that I like very much had this perfectly straight question: “but isn’t the ‘voodoo’ just ungrounded assumptions?  Can’t honest truths and a loving and stable community help people?”  In other words, do we really need all that religion?  My answer was “yes,”-but in that answer there is so much to try to explain and even justify.  It’s hard.

Nevertheless, I do pass on advice.  And I try to package it as wisdom.  I’d like to live it more fully, and I really want our community of Grace to sustain and strengthen its commitment to nurturing faith in the generations yet to be.  I can think of no better way for us to spend our time and our money.  It’s funny, as I get older, I want my faith to matter to those who are younger.  That doesn’t happen by accident-it happens with honest commitment.  I guess every graduation reminds me to renew that commitment.  And so I do.

BTW: We will celebrate and bless our own Grace Grads on Sunday morning, June 6th.  Be here