Monday, April 23, 2012

I Am Second

When Allen was received into the Episcopal Church a few years ago, I was traveling.  He seemed very excited about the Bishop coming and his official acceptance as an Episcopalian.  However, without being there, I didn’t understand completely what his experience meant to him, and how sorry I’d be later that I wasn’t there to support him.

When the offer of reaffirmation came to me, I thought I would participate in the event but didn’t know what to expect.  I don’t remember how I felt during confirmation, only the amount of study it required.  Unfortunately, with a toddler in the house, I was unable to take part in the classes offered by St. Barnabas.  However, fortunately, Mother Linda and Father Charles still allowed me to be reaffirmed on that Sunday morning.

All of a sudden, it seemed, the three day weekend was upon us.  Allen suggested we get away for the weekend and I said, “Great!  Let’s do it, but I will need to tell St. Barnabas I won’t be participating in the service.”  Since I didn’t take part in the classes, I figured it would not be a big deal.  But Allen said, “Oh no, you must be reaffirmed by the Bishop on Sunday.  This is very important.”  So our mini-vacation turned into a “staycation.”

I showed up at church that Sunday morning and was shuffled into Mother Linda’s office to hear from the Bishop.  His was a quick yet profound speech.  He asked us to think about how we will use this experience in the coming year:  What will we do to live a more Godly life?  Even if we don’t have a plan of action that morning, he asked us to pray for guidance.  His words cut me deeply.  Included in my New Year’s resolutions was to become more involved with my church and our community, and to better understand what it means to take God first.

I often hear that we should keep God center and live a Godly life, but what does that really mean?  How do I take God first?  I saw on my brother’s wrist this past weekend, a bracelet that says “I am second.”  I asked him what it meant, and he said it reminds him to take God and family first.  He admitted that he is not always good at taking God and others before himself.  I told him about one of St. Barnabas’ parishioners who asked somewhat jokingly, “What would Jesus Tweet?”  Perhaps I need to put those words on my wrist.

I am still uncertain exactly how to live a Godly life.  Does this mean I need to place less value on material goods?  Simply (or not so simply) follow the Ten Commandants?  Tithe?  Become more active in my church and its missions?  To start, I will try to remember daily that God should be center in my life and in my family’s life.  I will thank Him for my blessings and not just call upon Him when I have a challenge.  I will listen for and attempt to truly hear His word and how I am meant to spread His word.  As a friend once told me, “be quiet” and listen.  I will ask God for guidance and listen for His answer.  I will consider what I am doing now and what I can do better to keep God center in my life.  I will consistently remind myself that I am second.

Jennifer White Gradnigo


Saturday, April 14, 2012

A Shocking Mandate to Love


As we grow and age, I think each one of us evolves as a complex aggregate of our relationships, experiences and attitude. For many of us, it is very hard to give up some of the things we pick up from our experiences early in life. My own religious background involves early learning from the Church of South India (C.S.I), and later experiences from the Episcopal Church in the United States of America (ECUSA).

My early years were spent living a fairly idyllic life in Bangalore, India. My family was anchored in the C.S.I, with over nine generations of clergy, doctors and other close involvement with the Anglican Church. I was confirmed at the beautiful St. Mark's Cathedral in Bangalore and have many fond memories of St. Mark's and St. John's Church, which I attended later. The Easter season in particular brings back some great memories. Growing up, Easter sunrise service was truly something to be anticipated with much excitement. I can remember walking in the dark to church to attend a happy time of rejoicing and fellowship.

Outside the church, anyone growing up in the India of the 1970s and 1980s lived in a fairly hierarchical society. Older people, teachers and family were all respected; and part of growing up was to learn how to address people with the correct deference and respect. People had their place in society; and for someone in the upper middle class, things were stable, and life went on without too much change.

Inside the church, pastors in established mainstream churches were especially high up on the totem pole. Clergy in the C.S.I commanded significant respect and had quite a bit of clout. After all, due to early mission investment, along with churches, the C.S.I ran several schools, hospitals, retirement homes and other outreach initiatives.
So a pastor could influence sought after admission into top notch English-medium C.S.I schools and provide a ticket to a fantastic education. No surprise then, that clergy were usually simultaneously high powered CEOs running a church and its ancillary non-profit
businesses.

Nowadays, several decades later, and on the other side of the world, my church home is St. Barnabas', within the ECUSA. Set up after the revolutionary war, the ECUSA deliberately modeled the new nation and set up a fairly democratic governance structure. For example, a central Diocese has to depend on the largesse of its member churches for contributions. Also, clergy in the Episcopal Church U.S.A just don't seem to get the same adulation as their counterparts in the C.S.I. So, some memories die hard, including the image of pastor-as-high-powered-CEO.

So, that's why this Easter season came with a shock for me. Attending the Easter Vigil service at St. Barnabas with family, there was a ritual foot washing. I can surely say seeing two pastors on their knees washing the feet of their congregation will shock any C.S.I member, and perhaps members of other churches as well.

It's pretty shocking at many levels.

First of all, seeing people who are CEO-equivalents on their knees is shocking.

Then, the whole business of touching someone's feet is pretty shocking. After all, in the East, feet are considered dirty, and one of the worst insults one can levy at another is to either threaten to, or actually hit them with footwear.

Finally, there's the positional insult. How can grownups be in the business of washing the feet of younger people and kids? That's turning the totem pole upside down.

All very shocking indeed. So, why this roiling madness that is bound to upset the status quo and create chaos in the world?

As it turns out, we can attribute this turmoil to the creator and author of our faith - Jesus, the Christ. He's the one who left us with the new mandate or commandment at this time. From Wikipedia,

Most scholars agree that the English word Maundy in that name for the day is derived through Middle English and Old French mandé, from the Latin mandatum, the first word of the phrase "Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos" ("A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you"), the statement by Jesus in the Gospel of John 13:34 by which Jesus explained to the Apostles the significance of his action of washing their feet. The phrase is used as the antiphon sung during the "Mandatum" ceremony of the washing of the feet, which may be held during Mass or at another time as a separate event, during which a priest or bishop (representing Christ) ceremonially washes the feet of others, typically 12 persons chosen as a cross-section of the community.

As it turns out, our "radical" clergy are simply emulating Jesus' example of servant leadership with their foot washing. So, if you haven't attended one of these services you absolutely cannot miss it next year. You will be treated to hauntingly beautiful music, a service conducted in exquisite solemnity, and you will witness the shocking example of Jesus still at work more than 2000 years later, turning the world's hierarchy upside down through the Episcopal Church and the clergy at St. Barnabas'.

Truly, a shocking mandate to love.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Easter Day

John 1:3b, 4: What has come into being in him was life, and
the life was the light of all people.


Every Easter morning the daily office catches me by surprise
with the Prologue to the Gospel of John, words we associate
with Christmas--"In the beginning was the Word." Yet
Incarnation, the Word made flesh, would mean nothing
without the Day of Resurrection. As Anglicans we are often
known as people of the Incarnation, but immersion in
incarnation would mean nothing without the power of
resurrection.

When the divine became human, everything changed. Life
came into the world--life that is finally the light of all
people. We have journeyed through the Forty Days of Lent,
wrestling with the darkness that seeks to overcome the light.
We have wept at the foot of the Cross as Jesus, the light of
the world, died a fully human death in all its agony. Now
after the grief of these dark days, life and light return, and all
creation is new.

Christ is risen, and we are risen. Life that is true life is ours.
Light that is true light radiates from our Risen Lord to each
of us. May the light of Easter Day spread to all people.
Alleluia.


Psalm 148, 149, 150; Exodus 12:1-14; John 1:1-18

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Holy Saturday

I can only imagine how the apostles felt the day after Jesus'
crucifixion. Their fear, anguish, loneliness, and doubt must
have been almost insurmountable. Their Lord and best
friend had died in agony and they themselves risked a
similar fate. Huddled together in their small apartment, what
was their conversation like? Was anyone bold and reckless
enough to say, "What if this wasn't real? What if everything
we worked so hard for has come to nothing? What if we
never see or hear from Jesus again?"

As I write this, it is Monday, January 16--the day our nation
celebrates the life of Martin Luther King. After his
assassination, I imagine his followers felt much like the
disciples did after Jesus' death. They too had lost their
leader and dear friend. Now what would happen to their
hopes and dreams--the new world they had worked so hard
to build?

I'm sure both groups prayed like they had never prayed
before for God's guidance and salvation. And thanks be to
God, their prayers were answered. Informed by Christianity,
the civil rights movement has made tremendous progress in
this country for equality and justice. And faith in the Lord
Jesus Christ--the hope and anchor of the world--has
sustained and led Christians throughout the millennia as we
work together to build the kingdom of God. Thank you God
for drawing near to us when we call and strengthening us
during our times of doubt and fear! Alleluia and Amen!


Psalm 88; Lamentations 3:37-58; Hebrews 4:1-16

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Good Friday

Psalm 22: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my
cry?


There is a couple I have been giving spiritual counsel to
lately. They are both in their early sixties and have recently
lost their jobs. Because they are in their ë60s, employers
have been loath to hire them; their unemployment has run
out; their car was repossessed recently. They are in danger of
losing everything. They are in danger of losing what little
they have left, including their home. The husband recently
remarked that he never imagined himself in this position.
They are depressed and losing hope which is troubling to me
but understandable. In life, we sometimes find ourselves in
impossible situations and feel, like Job, unloved by God and
angry at what has happened to us. But an inspiring part of
following Jesus Christ is that He has been there, in the worst
possible spot one can be: enduring a painful death, alone,
perhaps uncertain if God is even hearing Him. The old
standard southern hymn, "What a friend we have in Jesus'
may sound schmaltzy to us at times, but it holds up a central
truth: Christ loves us, understands us, is a kindred spirit in
our trials and, in his Resurrection, lifts us up. Agony is often
a part of life before the light of release and redemption. God
calls us to live in that hope; a hope that is real.


Psalm 22; Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-33; 1 Peter 1:10-20; 
John 13:36-38

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Maundy Thursday

1 Corinthians 16-17: The bread that we break, is it not a
sharing in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread,
we who are many are one body, for we all partake of one
bread.


Our congregation for its size is quite diversified, living into
the Eucharist. The bread we receive is given to all of us as
the one bread uniting us into the grace of the Holy Spirit. I
am blessed to be a partaker within such a body.

I really like bread. There are many varieties yet all start with
basic and simple ingredients. Yes, the earthiness of it, grain
in the soil, water and yeast. There are the things Jesus spoke
about so often. He became one of us to bring us to God.

I spent a few years as a child on my grandfather's farm.
Wheat was grown, seed planted, nature in the raw. When the
head ripened and the stalk golden, came the crew with the
threshing machine to harvest the grain from the shaft blown
upon the haystack. My grandmother fed us all, threshing
crew too. Always a sunny day. This was a coming together
at one table for bread.

Jesus said, "I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me will
never hunger." (John 6:35)


Psalm 102; Lamentations 2:10-18; 
1 Corinthians 10:14-17, 11:27-32; Mark 14:12-25

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Psalm 55: 6: And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove!
For then would I fly away, and be at rest.


How often have I wished for something to make a tough
situation better? How many times have I blamed my stress,
or my poor treatment of another, on things out of my
control? Countless times. So, what would Jesus do? I don't
think he spent a lot of time trying to escape difficult
situations, or wishing for things (like wings) to make life
easier. Jesus knew he had all he needed.

Wouldn't it be nice to fly away and be at rest? Wouldn't it be
magical to find a pair of wings that could carry us to Jesus'
side so that we could feel that true sense of peace? Imagine
floating away from all of the noise in our life. That noise
might be loud sounds--say from having children in the
house. That noise might be what we create to escape life in
some way--our way of creating wings. Unfortunately, those
wings don't take us to that place of peace and love we long
for.

In this time of Lent, how is Jesus calling you to be at rest?
There are many paths to get there. Each one is unique to us.
As I think of the wonderful variety of people, cultures and
backgrounds represented by our special congregation at St.
Barnabas', the variety of paths to rest in Jesus are abundant.
What's your path to resting with Jesus going to be today?


Psalm 55; Lamentations 2:1-9, 14-17; 
2 Corinthians 1:23-2:11; Mark 12:1-11

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

From the beginning of time, God's intention has been to
save mankind. The lamentations are prayers of devotion and
dedication and trust in God. The prayers sound a note of
hope in a situation that would otherwise be completely
devoid of hope. The plea is prayers for Yahweh's
deliverance with an appeal to those who lose hope to focus
on God. God has given us gifts which are like seeds planted
inside us; and for them to grow, is to be of service to others.
Throughout the ages we are taught to love God and our
neighbors as ourselves to fully experience the gifts that
supply every need we have.

God has promised his grace is sufficient for us and that
things work together for good to those who love him and for
those who serve in his kingdom. The readings teach us our
purpose in life is about how God works through us and his
purpose is revealed as we diligently seek him.


Psalm 6, 12; Lamentations 1:17-22; 2 Corinthians 1:8-22;
Mark 11:27-33

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Lamentations 1:9b: Look, LORD, on my affliction, for the
enemy has triumphed.


Our last week of Lent begins with a funeral march. In
Lamentations we hear the painful confession that the once
lively city of Jerusalem is now a lonely widow. The imagery
is acute and heartbreaking. I am struck by the poet's
capacity to share the deep anguish he feels for his broken
home. Cries of grief reach to the heavens. Cheeks are
stained with tear tracks. Most of us have felt the
abandonment and isolation that the poet speaks of, but we
have trouble sharing with such honesty. We feel compelled
to journey alone with sturdy faith.

And yet today's lament reminds us that our felt pain must be
spoken pain. I have known this shared pain in the
community life of St. Barnabas. at funerals, Shrine Mont
retreats, and intimate conversations. Because people feel
safe and loved and honored, the lament of the heart is not
buried but spoken and shared. There is sadness and grief.
There are tear-stained cheeks. But there is also a deep
awareness of the enduring love of God. Whatever may befall
us on this journey with Jesus, God is present. In our sorrow
and our singing, in our pain and our passion, in the cross and
the empty tomb.. God is present.


Psalm 51:1-18(19-20); Lamentations 1:1-2, 6-12; 
2 Corinthians 1:1-7; Mark 11:12-25

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Palm Sunday

When Jesus entered the gates of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday,
he did not sneak in under cover of night to avoid the risk of
arrest by the Sanhedrin who sought to kill him. He came in
broad daylight riding on a donkey, as the Messiah was
prophesied to come to establish his kingdom. People spread
their garments (half their wardrobe in a time when two
outfits was all ordinary people owned) upon the road in front
of Jesus, and others scattered branches before Him. Ordinary
people met Jesus the great prophet from Nazareth with
heartfelt hope that He was the long awaited Messiah who
would rescue them from the Roman occupation and their
collaborating religious leaders.

Likewise, regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves
in--worldwide recession, national political gridlock, job
problems, our personal sorrows--God calls us daily to open
the gates of our hearts that the King of glory may come in.
We are to bless and praise Him. We are to lay down
everything that is not essential. We are to seek His face
above all else, for living in the presence of the Lord is His
most precious gift. We are to lift up the gates and ancient
doors: we are to remove the roadblocks to the daily coming
of the Lord by nailing our sins to the cross and setting aside
our doubts and fears. Then we can unreservedly welcome
the only One who can make us whole, the only One who can
restore our relationship with Him and with each other.


Psalm 24, 29; Zechariah 9:9-12; 1 Timothy 6:12-16

These Lenten meditations were written by the people
of St. Barnabas' for the people of St. Barnabas' as part
of our recognition of the 50th anniversary of the founding
of this church. We hope that you will find them helpful
in your own Lenten devotions.