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21st Century Congregations
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The Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus
January 2017
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Before the last gasp of American Christendom, which Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon say came to an end in the early 1960s (see Willimon and Hauerwas,
Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony
, 1989), the Episcopal Church was sometimes referred to as “the Republican Party at prayer.” For a small denomination, Episcopalians had a lot of influence in Washington and in their local communities back in the day. Along with Presbyterians, we were the church to join if you wanted to “get ahead.”
I know some people miss those “good old days.” I was born in 1963, however; the year that Vatican II opened and John Kennedy was assassinated, and (according to Willimon and Hauerwas) Christendom died. So I am not tempted by that particular form of nostalgia. And besides all of that, truth be told, I would not be tempted to join a Christian denomination so closely allied with one political party.
Clearly a lot has changed in the past half century or so, and some might even say that the Episcopal Church now more closely resembles the Democratic Party at prayer. But I hope not. (Full disclosure: I grew up in a Democratic home and made that official when I first registered to vote in 1981; I’ve been an Episcopalian, at least officially, since 1993.) But I have no desire whatsoever to collapse those two parts of my identity into one or to surround myself at Church with people who agree with my politics. Or to put it another way: I want to cultivate Christian communities in this diocese where there is room for honest political disagreements, especially about the role of government. In fact, I think this nation needs us to hold space for that in an increasingly shrill, partisan culture. To be safe places where people with lots of different points-of-view can have some “fair fights” about what it means in this time and place to live the promises we have made together in Holy Baptism: especially to respect the dignity of every human being, and to strive for justice and peace among all people. Always with God’s help.
As we begin this month to pray across our diocese for “our President, Donald,” it is helpful to remember that as uncomfortable as some in our congregations will be with those three words, others among us felt much the same way over the past eight years about praying for “our President, Barack.” We could argue until the cows come home. But if the argument stays on a partisan level, then I have one simple question: what does it mean to be the Church? As long as our primary identity is political (whether as Republicans or Democrats at prayer) we are not yet living into that Baptismal Covenant that is meant to shape and transform us all, together, into the Body of Christ.
Taken together, the Sojourner’s article and the SJC’s paper might provide a framework for some healthy conversation and adult study during this Epiphany season. If we really do believe that the light shines in the darkness (and the darkness has not overcome it) then how can we join in the work of becoming a more illuminating (and salty and yeasty) Church?
One line in the Sojourner’s article that sticks with me is this one:
" Christians do a disservice to the gospel message by removing the cultural context from Jesus’s ministry and watering down his message to one of religious platitudes. We like to generalize the words of Jesus and transform his life into a one-size-fits-all model that can apply to all of humanity…"
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Indeed. We are still in the midst of proclaiming the good news of Immanuel, “God-With-Us.” We just sang “O Little Town of Bethlehem” – a hymn written by a former Massachusetts bishop about a Palestinian town located on the West Bank of Jerusalem. Those who worshiped recently at The Church of the Nativity
in that “little town” are struggling today behind a wall for peace and justice. They are a part of us, and we, of them. We may differ in our politics of the Middle East, but we must not bury our heads in the sand or dis-incarnate the gospel. What we sing shapes the faith we are called to live:
Where children pure and happy pray to the blessed Child,
Where misery cries out to thee, Son of the mother mild;
Where charity stand watching and faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more.
Context matters. Jesus does not resort to religious platitudes and we shouldn’t do it either. Jesus enters into the joy and the messes of our lives and meets us where we are. AS members of his Body, we are called in his name to do no less.
Luke’s birth narrative, still fresh in our memories, famously begins:
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered.
We might translate these words to our own day by saying something like this:
In these days, at the end of the presidency of Barack Obama and at the beginning of the presidency of Donald Trump, when Charlie Baker was the governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, we in the Episcopal Church renewed our commitment to live the Baptismal Covenant – each of us in our towns and parishes from 495 to the Berkshires – in cities and towns and suburbs. And so we went…
It may not roll off our tongues like Luke’s words do, and I could probably use an editor to help me make my paraphrase more poetic. But I hope the theological point is clear, that regardless of whether we consider ourselves to be Socialists or Democrats or Independents or Republicans or Libertarians or “not very political,” we are called to be the Church. Together. Not as one party or another at prayer, but as the Episcopal branch of the Jesus movement. We are not just “spiritual” – we are religious. And the Latin root of that word means to “bind up.” Like our Lord, we are called to be a people who are participating in the work that Jesus began, which includes “binding up” the broken places of this world. As the late Howard Thurman once put it, "now the work of Christmas begins..."
We won’t all agree on every issue in this diocese. I don’t think that is the goal. But here is what I do think: if on every single issue we face as a nation we remain divided along partisan lines, then it may be that our politics are informing our identity more than the Baptismal Covenant is. That is where I think God has given us some work to do – even if we were raised not to talk about politics (or religion) in polite company.
When we look (together) to what the Lord requires of us and when we recognize with the prophet Micah that it is about “doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God” then we will be better equipped to create spaces in our congregations where we can wrestle with the many challenges that face this great nation. Together.
And we can and will continue to stand with all who are being pushed to the margins. We do this not because of our political convictions but because of the promises that we’ve made (and renewed again and again) in Holy Baptism. We keep striving for justice and peace, and we continue to respect the dignity of every human being. Always, with God’s help.
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Rich+
The Rev. Dr. Richard Simpson
Canon to the Ordinary
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The Episcopal Diocese of Western Massachusetts | 413-737-4786 | www.diocesewma.org
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