Reflection on Transfiguration Sunday 2015

Today’s liturgy felt transformational. Celebrating Holy Baptism and Holy Eucharist together, listening to the witness of our partners in mission from St. Luke’s, renewing baptismal vows – Wow!

Thank God for the verdant-green-vested priests and deacons whose palpable depth of conviction and strength of presence reminded me of grass and the vitality of earth, humus keeping me grounded, else I might drift away in a daydream carried by a cloud of light at the mountain-top with Jesus.

Sitting in choir, I wondered about resonances between Baptism and Eucharist, theophanies of the Baptism and the Transfiguration, Epiphany and light, green and white, Ordinary and Extra-ordinary …

This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased. Matthew 3:17, Baptism of Jesus

… you led the children of Israel out of their bondage in Egypt into the land of promise … your Son Jesus received the baptism of John and was anointed by the Holy Spirit as the Messiah, the Christ, to lead us, through his death and resurrection, from the bondage of sin into everlasting life. BCP pp. 308, Holy Baptism

let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijiah. Mark 9:5

And on the way to church, I wondered about the Elijiah and Elisha story:

… the water was parted to the one side and to the other, until the two of them crossed on dry ground. When they had crossed, Elijiah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha said, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” from 2 Kings 2:1-12

There’s a passing of the torch that reminds me of the transition from the Dean search to Penny accepting our call. There’s a receiving of this time and this world as gift, as our inheritance today – we are stewards. There’s a receiving of the tradition and the sacraments as our inheritance today – future church is here.

We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood. BCP, pp. 308, Holy Baptism

What made the liturgy powerful? Was it the quality of the silence before the Gospel proclamation? Katherine’s witness? the text of the anthems? I don’t have the answer, and that’s part of why coming together for liturgy is so wonderful.

For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. 2 Corinthians 4:6

Maybe the veil of God’s mystery momentarily lifted in a variety of ways?

Because in the mystery of the Word made flesh, you have caused a new light to shine in our hearts, to give the knowledge of your glory in the face of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. BCP pp. 378, Preface for Epiphany

Smoke carries our prayers to heaven

On a Sunday full as ever with last-minute liturgy changes and uncertain weather, and difficult questions arising from current events, I had a moment of quiet grace, brought to me by one of our tiny parishioners.  

As a thurifer, I spend a bit of time outside the church walls during services, preparing the coals, and loading the thurible.  The accompanying smoke often attracts the curious.  

This time, it was L, on his way to Sunday school.  Very polite, he said, “that’s smoky—is it gonna spark?” 

I explained that we safely disposed of spent incense and coals under the heavy in-ground grate he was inspecting near the side entrance to the sacristy, the grate protecting the coals from wayward inflammables.  

He joined me on the landing, pointing at my thurible.  “Is it hot?”  

“Oh, very,” I said, “It has to be, to make the incense melt and smoke.”  

He asked, “what’s it for?”

 “Well, we believe that the smoke helps take our prayers to heaven,” I responded.  

He took this in quite earnestly, but, “It doesn’t look very hot.”  

I assured him it was as hot as the barbeque his parents might make on a summer day.  

He again asked, “But it’s not gonna spark, is it?”  And I answered, “no, not so’s it’ll hurt anybody.”  

He very sweetly thanked me, then scampered off to class.  And I thought… maybe it will spark something else.

Lisa Churchill is a thurifer and verger.

Evangelizing over dessert

The Rev. Susan Russell of All Saints, Pasadena, is a member of a task force for the Standing Committee for Liturgy and Music (SCLM) that is working on how to implement resolution CO56, to "collect and develop" resources for the blessings of same sex unions.

Writing on her blog, she tells us about the task force's recent visit to the Bishops' Meeting in Arizona to report on progress. The four members of the task force had a working dinner at their hotel, where something amazing happened.

[W]e settled into a long, lively dinner that included a dessert course with a side order of evangelism as three young hotel staff members came up to the table and individually engaged with us about the work the Episcopal Church is doing.

The first one was a waiter – “Michael” – who said as a gay man it had never occurred to him that there were churches that would welcome him rather than condemn him. He thanked us for giving him hope that he hadn’t imagined he’d ever have with an earnestness that was deeply moving.

A few minutes later “Amanda” … our waitress … came up to the table to say that she’d encouraged Michael to come talk to us because she’d found him crying in the kitchen after listening to our conversations. She was raised Catholic but it “didn’t fit” anymore and she wanted to know where she should go to find an Episcopal Church. I gave her my card and told her to email me and I’d hook her up with folks in Phoenix.

The third was “Vanessa” … their supervisor … who thanked us for connecting with them and told us about her experience of finally finding a church home that helped her claim a relationship with God … and then being devastated when that church family rejected her gay friend. She’s going to email me, too.

It blew us away.

While we were obsessing about perfecting PowerPoint slides and refining our messaging about the SCLM project, these earnest young people responded to the few crumbs of conversation they overheard at our dinner table like they were starving for hope. And if those crumbs gave them that hope and energy – and gave them the courage to come up to a table full of “church people” and say, “Wow … we want to know more about what you’re talking about!” then imagine how they and countless others like them are yearning for the banquet we set every time we gather to witness to God’s inclusive love.

Keep talking. Because you never know who may be listening!