Showing posts with label Bishop Mathes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bishop Mathes. Show all posts

Thursday, May 4, 2017

The St George's Day Sermon: Jesus First

April 30, 2017
St. George’s Day Evensong
St. Paul’s Cathedral

Matthew 10: 16-22



Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. AMEN.

This is always quite a day. A bit of a parade, Banners, bag pipes, choirs, anthems, and such. I have so often encouraged folks who are not a part of the Episcopal Church to come to this service because of the pageantry, the fun and the beauty. I mean: how many times to you get to experience a slain bread dragon as a part of a church procession and then eat it at the reception following?

On this side of the pond, our commemoration of the patron of England and our rejoicing in all things Anglican is a celebration of what we see as good and hallowed in our heritage. A brief survey of the centuries would surely touch on Augustine of Canterbury, Julian of Norwich, and George Herbert. We would note the importance of the Magna Carta and common law. And we would certainly give thanks for common prayer and the Anglican worship and music that imbue this very service.

As a relatively new nation, with a great deal of pride in our own history, we anglophiles readily associate with British history, culture and custom. After all, which one of us would not die to live at Downtown Abbey? We take the Facebook quiz wondering which character we are most like! And now, even as we grieve the last season—what will we do without Cora’s rapier repartee, we now are saved by the first season of The Crown and Victoria. And so we do well to remember this day our shared English heritage and how it has blessed and given to our church and our culture. We are proud of our Anglican identity and association; we are proud of our heritage as citizen of these United States. Whether we are English, Welsh, Scottish, or United States citizens, it is good to love one’s country.

And yet, even as we rejoice in national heritage and identity on this day, there are troubling signs around the planet of a strident resurgence of nationalism which divides rather than unities. There are forces that are drawing factions and creating a withdrawal from common interests. In an age when so many challenges are global, we need to be very careful with national pride and ambition. Today, we celebrate our Anglican heritage. But we need to be careful that this does not weave into some of the darker chapters of both US and British history where this pride bleeds into a not so subtle sense of superiority of race which was at the heart of British Colonial oppression and at the core of US slavery, imperialism and Jim Crow. Throughout our shared history, we have much to celebrate, but we also have much to mourn. We need to be careful.

A quintessential part of being Anglican and Episcopalian is to love our country so much that we call each other and our leaders to our highest ideals. Think of William Wilberforce fighting the slave trade, Bishop George Bell’s speech on the floor of the House of Lords criticizing the bombing of German cities in World War II, Presiding Bishop John Hines marching with Martin Luther King, Jr. in Selma. Think of our church standing up for LGBTQ rights at tremendous cost. Think of us standing up for neighbors who are fearful because of their immigration status. At the core of our heritage stands one who is not English, one who is not documented—a refugee and ultimately a convicted criminal—Jesus of Nazareth. We stand with him and all he teaches us—all he calls us to be.

We stand with him just as a saint of another age did. We remember St. George, not because he slayed a dragon, but because he stood up with Jesus and claimed his faith in face of brutal persecution. He was absolutely clear about his singular allegiance to Jesus as Lord. And so he was martyred in the Diocletian persecution. He was a man who could be described as a lover of country with loyalty to the emperor serving as soldier and tribune. But when Diocletian tried to purge the army of Christians through arrest and execution, George stood up for his faith and his Lord Jesus.

Where do we stand? Where are our allegiances? Parades and banners, political parties and pageantry are seductive. We can get caught up in passions of power and be overwhelmed with fear and suspicion of the other. Or we can say centered in Jesus and connected to the whole human family.

Today, we celebrate who we are as Anglicans. We love what we should love about this heritage. But let us rejoice and give thanks for the Asian, the Mexican, and the First Nations of this land. Let us rejoice in who we are but confess our own sins of pride and hubris. Let us stand with Jesus who calls us to love our neighbor.

Last summer, both major presidential candidates endorsed American exceptionalism, the belief that this nation has a special responsibility to the world. The new president in his inauguration echoed and amplified this notion with the phrase, “America First.” This is not a new idea but one that has warped both British and American core values of human dignity for generations. Rome First didn’t work, England First didn’t work, Britain First didn’t work, and America First will not work. As St. George demonstrated and witnessed with his life, for us it must be Jesus First! The Jesus Movement is a movement of love that does not divide but unites. It is selfless and giving. It is about hope not fear; love not hate.

On this day, we will sing two national anthems. We will remember the queen and a star spangled banner. Some of us may note that those rockets’ red glare were fired by the Royal Navy just weeks after burning the Capitol and White House. Don’t worry: all is forgiven!

It is good to love our country. After all, we pray for the queen, the president, and all in authority, even as we call them to goodness and generosity. God bless the queen; God bless the United States. And yet we then remember St. George and close with the immortal hymn, Jerusalem. William Blake’s anthem which has been appropriated as the veritable hymn of England is not satisfied with the way things are but rather calls us to a higher place, the image of New Jerusalem where creation will be made new.

And so, let us strive for that common place which brings together all the nations and peoples of this world into one. Let us seek a kindred understanding and heart that love our distinctive character as English, as African, as Native American, as Mexican as….whatever…and calls us to being neighbor, brother and sisters, the family of God. For St. George, for us and for all the saints, it is Jesus First.

The Rt Rev James R Mathes

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Letter from the Dean re. episcopal transition

Dear people of St. Paul's,

By now many of you have read the letter our Bishop sent out early Monday morning, letting us know that he has accepted a call to serve the community at Virginia Theological Seminary. This comes as a surprise to many of us. Bishop Mathes has led the Diocese of San Diego for twelve years and has shepherded it through some tumultuous times. He has built a collegial clergy community and transformed the face of diocesan leadership with the move of the offices to the Episcopal Church Center. He has been an exemplary and inspiring bishop. As his cathedral, St. Paul's has enjoyed a special relationship with our bishop, celebrating our major feasts together and benefiting from his presence at midweek services and special occasions alike. Bishop Mathes welcomed me to San Diego three years ago and has been a steadfast encourager and mentor for me as a new Dean. His wife, Terri, offered the cathedral her professional expertise in our 2015 staff transition, and she is a beloved member of the congregation. We owe both of them much, and we will miss them dearly.

The good news is that the Episcopal Church has a strong and deliberate process for the transition of bishops, and our Standing Committee, which will lead the diocese during the interim, has a good roadmap to follow as this diocesan community sets out on the road to discern whom God will call as our next bishop. You can read the Standing Committee's letter here. I have no doubt that a number of Cathedral members will be involved in various ways as this process unfolds over the next two years.

Meanwhile, St. Paul's Cathedral will continue to Love Christ, Serve Others, and Welcome All without interruption. Our day-to-day, Sunday-to-Sunday life will not change. St. Paul's will continue to be a leader and resource for the rest of the diocese, and we will support the diocesan staff in every way possible.

I know you will join me in praying for Bishop Mathes, Terri, the diocesan staff, and the Standing Committee as they navigate the coming weeks and months. We will have several opportunities to give thanks for our Bishop's ministry among us and to say goodbye in appropriate style. He will be with us for the Easter Vigil and on Easter Day, and we will certainly plan a splendid liturgical leave-taking event in early July, marking the formal end of his episcopate.

Virginia Theological Seminary is blessed to be welcoming the Mathes family and we have been blessed to have them among us. Thanks be to God for faithful leaders and for a church which can meet the challenge of change.

Your sister in Christ,

 
The Very Rev Penny Bridges, Dean

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

The Easter Sermon

Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. AMEN.

I.
In college, I was trained as a mathematician. I was particularly drawn to the mysteries of the unknown and unseen. My last year was spent delving into the mysteries of Number Theory. Indeed, my senior honors thesis was a proof of the existence of a number field. Thirty-five years later, and an almost equal time away from a discipline that requires all but full intellectual immersion, that paper holds seemingly ancient mysteries even to me, its author.

And yet, my intellect and my world view continues to be one in which I seek clear solutions. Things are to be proved or dismissed. I suspect each of us carries that post-enlightenment propensity and drive toward certitude, at least to some extent. Indeed, in this twenty-first century so much that surrounds us gives us precision and definitive knowledge. Want to know about your ancestry? You can send your DNA away for analysis. It can be proved. Want to see how long it will take you in traffic to get to Los Angeles? Enter the address in Google maps, which takes us to the most universal proving tool: your iPhone. If there is any dispute about the exact time, the immortal Steve Jobs will end the debate.

II.
And yet, the really big questions remain a mystery that cannot be answered. Our best guesses elude a proof. Why am I here? Am I really loved? Do I matter? When will I die? And what will that mean? Mystery and unknowing are always with us. We really want to get certainty around these things…including this business of Easter.

Yet, the best we can do is to go to the story told, that once upon a time: “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.” Within moments, this woman who had followed Jesus sets in motion a chaotic seen. She rushes back to the others and along the way she concludes that what she has seen is explained by grave robbers: “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” In an instant, an apostolic foot race is on between Peter and John. For days Peter has been running away from Jesus, but he turns and runs to find him. The beloved John wins the foot race but Peter enters the tomb first. What they see is linen wrappings and no corpse. Apparently Mary’s return to the tomb was less dramatic. But clearly the three are there. They are up to their eyeballs in mystery. Where is he? What does this all mean? We are told that John believed but did not understand. Whatever his nascent believing may have been, he and Peter returned home leaving Mary, thus setting the scene for an epoch encounter.

So far, all that has been reported can be explained. It is possibly just another ugly event in a horrible week—grave robbers, the Romans again, who knows? Mary’s weeping is understandable. But through her tears she is drawn to seek to know, and so she too looks into the tomb. This is something the impetuous Peter has already done. John had looked in, but not Mary. Now, in this moment of solitary grief, Mary looks in. And she sees that she is not alone. We are told that there are two angels, who ask her “Woman, why are you weeping?” Without any note of consternation or surprise by this heavenly appearance, roots her grief in the world, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” For Mary, Jesus is still dead. Angels do not take her to the resurrection. She just wants to know where the body is so she can grieve properly. She is trying to order her thoughts and feelings in this broken world where Romans crucify, terrorist blow up bombs, cancer wins, and the dead stay dead. In this story, you and I are Mary. We stand at an empty tomb and ask, “What does all of this mean?”

III.
It is at this point that Mary hears another voice. It comes from behind her. We know this because she turns around and sees a man she thought was the gardener. And it is when this man speakers her name, that she recognizes him to be Jesus. It is that intimate and loving knowing that is conveyed by knowing and speaking the name of another that leads to recognition: “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.” Mary… Rabbouni!

And yet, what makes this recognition happen, what takes Mary from the emptiness of the tomb, looking for the dead body of Jesus, to facing the risen Christ, is the act of turning around. The Greek word used here is metanoia. It is this moment and movement of reorientation that allows her to encounter the holy. It is in turning that she finds a new direction and the opening of new life. All of this propels her to then be the apostle to the apostles: “I have seen the Lord.”

Dear ones: today, I offer you no proof of the resurrection of Jesus. I am a descendent of the apostles and pass on to you the experience of Mary, Peter, and John. They experienced not just an empty tomb, but the physical resurrection of Jesus. Mary told her experience and for 50 more days Jesus kept gracing them with opportunities to change directions and live resurrected lives.

I want to be absolutely clear in my proclamation this day. We proclaim that Jesus died on the cross and on the third day rose again. This is the proclamation. I cannot describe how. I cannot prove it. I believe it because of conversion that God gives to each of us. I believe. Help my unbelief.

IV.
What I also believe is that Jesus’ resurrection is a message to us to live lives that are changed and different. We are to be a community of Jesus that changes directions, like Mary, and turns around. What that ultimately looks like is a people of God that trusts in life with God beyond this world, and so can risk living today for the least in this world. Again, we cannot prove this like a mathematical question. We have to take it as a matter of believing that if we follow this Lord Jesus we will find life and have it abundantly in this age and in the age to come.

When I was a college senior defending my honors thesis, a curious thing happened. The presentation was in front of the department faculty. About halfway through the proof, Dr. Ebby found a mistake in my work. The wheels started to come off the bus. But then Dr. Alvarez found a second mistake. Those were corrected, a crash was averted, and I reached the blessed conclusion. I think this business of following Jesus in the way is a bit like that. We may think we are on a fact-finding journey, but really we are on a pilgrimage in which we gain insights from our fellow pilgrims. The final resolution or answer is ultimately not ours to claim or grasp but is given us in the fullness of time as a gift.

 Beloved: today we rejoice in that gift. Jesus is Christ is risen today. Alleluia. Let us turn with Mary and see him. And then, let us tell others the news by our words and as we live resurrected lives of giving, service and love. The Risen Christ is behind you. Turn around! Do you hear him calling your name?


John 20: 1-18
Easter Sunday, March 27, 2016
St. Paul’s Cathedral, San Diego
The Right Rev James Mathes

Sunday, June 17, 2012

A week in the life of Bishop Mathes

Do you ever wonder what a bishop does? We asked our Bishop James Mathes to describe an average week in his life, and he kindly sent us this description:

On Sunday mornings, I spend time with a different congregation each week. These visitations are a great source of joy for me. They are a time when I can rejoice in each congregation's ministry, listen for the ways I may learn something new, and in many cases, share stories from the wider diocesan community.  These visitations are a fundamental way in which I strive to be the connective tissue of the body in this diocese.


I celebrate or preside at every service and afterward, I will often have lunch with the vestry (governing body) of the congregation. 

Regularly the service will include baptisms, confirmations, receptions and reaffirmations, all of which require careful planning and organization on the part of the congregation.  

Recently I have requested that each congregation provide a time for me to teach, and a time to serve. I've handed out food, washed cars, washed feet, and assembled bag lunches for the homeless. It's been a great source of revitalizing energy for me, and a good way to connect with the people of our diocese.

You may read all about my visitation guidelines and expectations here: http://www.edsd.org/customary/ 

Mondays are my days off and are usually spent at home in my woodshop, or with my wife, Terri.

Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays are office days. These days are quite full of meetings with clergy, staff, individuals exploring ordination, community leaders, ecumenical partners, etc. I offer the opportunity for all clergy to meet with me during their birthday months as a way to check in and let them know I'm available for them, as their pastor.

I am on the board of Episcopal Community Services and The Bishop's School, and attend regular, monthly meetings for each. I am the president of the Diocesan Executive Council; our regular, monthly meetings are on Saturdays. I meet with the Standing Committee, which is the body that functions as my trusted advisors, and the Commission on Ministry, which manages the process of discernment for those pursuing ordained ministry. I meet with anyone who makes an appointment and would like to talk with me. I have an open door policy with my staff, so that time permitting, I am available to them whenever they need me. 

Recently I have been hosting fireside briefings in my home on week nights to help familiarize people with our new diocesan Mission Plan, the guiding principles of our common life in the coming months and years.

During the week I sometimes drive to the Riverside highlands or to the desert for regional office hours. These provide an easy way for people in all regions of our diocese to meet with me without having to drive to San Diego.

Fridays are my writing days. If necessary, I will come into the office on Fridays for meetings, but I prefer to stay home and write sermons, articles and other materials.

Saturday mornings bring Executive Council meetings. We move our meeting to a new congregation each month to help us get a tangible sense of our diocese. Special services such as centennial celebrations, new ministry celebrations, and others, will often fall on Saturdays. Saturday nights find me leading services, or attending a vestry meeting.

Sunday morning begins the whole, joyous process over again!

Monday, April 9, 2012

Easter Message from Bishop Mathes

Dear Fellow Workers in God’s Mission,

Around the planet, those who call Jesus Lord will move from a time of Lenten discipline to the glorious proclamation of Easter:

Alleluia. Christ is risen.

The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!


It is tempting for us to think that when we conclude our Easter services we are done with celebrating Easter—not in the least. It is a wise and good thing that the season of Easter lasts for fifty days. It is also appropriate that each Sunday is a mini-Easter upon which we celebrate the feast of the resurrection. One day cannot contain the Pascal mystery of God coming among us, touching us, dying and then rising for us. Fifty days is not enough. Every Sunday is not enough.

It was been said that we are an Easter people living in a Good Friday world. Indeed. And as an Easter people, we cannot contain ourselves. Every day and every moment is a time for Easter celebration. We are those who dare to follow Jesus Christ in his life of fearless love for the world. Our mission is to carry God’s message of reconciliation and restoration from our gathered communities into the world.

When our Easter Sunday service ends we are dismissed to this mission. We go forth into the world to be messengers of Jesus. We are his body in the world. And so let us celebrate Easter on Sunday. Let us celebrate Easter each and every day.

Agape and peace to you,
The Rt. Rev. James R. Mathes
Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego

Monday, October 18, 2010

Push for More, Not Less

Our Bishop wrote this on his blog, Under the San Diego Sun, on October 4th. Cross posted with permission.

I just read that Governor Schwarzenegger and the state legislature have agreed to a deal that will close the 19 billion dollar budget gap. Details have not yet been revealed. 19 billion! That is a stunning number. To get it down to a reasonable size, that is $554 per California resident. It is less than $1.50 per day for each resident.

I point this out because my neighborhood is peppered with signs that say, “No on D,” a referendum to increase the sales tax in San Diego. After all, our city is similarly in a financial crunch. But let me stay with the big picture. Our state economy is 1.85 trillion dollars. We have more fortune 500 headquarters than any other state except Texas, which has the same number. Truth be told: there is plenty of wealth in California to pay the state’s current bills.

To end our financial crisis, however, we must recover a sense of the common good. We must decide that our neighbor’s welfare is just as important as our own. In fact our own welfare is inextricably connected to our neighbor's.

Another truth: we are not paying our own way. We are investing in a society that relies too much on the contributions of the previous generations. And we don’t invest enough to assuage the pain and suffering of those on the margins of society. We don’t invest enough in education and welfare programs.

My bet is that when the governor and the legislature reveal the details of their budget deal, they will have balanced the budget at the expense of those least likely to vote and to be heard from: the poor, the homeless, the mentally ill.

Here is what I am going to do. I am going to vote in favor of every tax increase that I can so that there will be more. I am writing my representatives to continue to push for more, not less, for those on the edge of making it—even if I have to pay more.

This is how we strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being—at least this day in California.

The Rt. Rev. James R. Mathes