We are called to compassion.

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness –
on them light has shined.

Isaiah 9:2

We often approach Christmas as the celebration of a past event, in effect the birth Jesus Christ. He came into the world in the same way we all did, a crying and shivering infant. His mission was to establish God’s kingdom on earth. But aside from our celebration of the nativity, we are called at Christmas to celebrate the continual birth of God and God’s kingdom in our midst, among the confusion, chaos and darkness that surrounds us.

The world is reacting to a terrible event that took place at an elementary school just a week ago. Adam Lanza, a troubled 20-year-old man, opened fire in a Connecticut elementary school killing 26 children and teachers, himself, and earlier that day, his own mother.

What do we celebrate when such violence claims the innocent?

Marc Pitzke, writer for the German newspaper Der Spiegel, reacted to the tragedy in Newtown, CT, by describing us, from the outside, as a nation with a troubled identity. Fearing the erosion of our nationalism and leadership in the world, we cling more closely to our weapons and illusions of power.

In scripture we learn that the child who is the Prince of Peace doesn’t respond to violence with violence, but offers an alternative way of building bridges and connections.

Violence has always been part of life on earth, as in the ancient world in the time of Jesus. King Herod, a traitor to his people, ordered the execution of all young male children in the village of Bethlehem in order to avoid the loss of his throne to the newborn King of the Jews, whose birth had been announced by the Magi.

But it is important to remember that we, brothers and sisters, are the hands and feet that can create change.

We are called by God to engage in the politics surrounding gun ownership, mental health resources, and violence and cruelty in the media. We are also called to be compassionate. Isolation is pervasive in our culture, especially among teenagers and young adults. We can be a light to those who are living in darkness by listening to their stories, speaking kindly, and having a spirit of inclusion.

Peruvian theologian Gustavo Gutierrez writes in his book Sharing the Word Through the Liturgical Year, “If during these days the coming of the Lord sets our hearts on fire, and if we respond by our commitment and solidarity to the gift of love which God gives in his son, we will gradually transform the threatening darkness into a human, peaceful and luminous night.”

Amid the violence and darkness, there is peace, love and solidarity against the oppressive forces in the world. Our inclusive communities, our love for humankind, can transcend the violence that plagues the world.

In Luke’s gospel, which will be read across the world on Christmas Eve, angels rejoice, praising God saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

Christ is born. Heaven and earth have come together. The human race and God are connected. Now we embrace one another, the homeless, the hungry, the troubled, the mentally and physically disabled, the isolated, the oppressed, because Christ is in them, too.

Even with terrible tragedies happening daily in the world, we pray that the peace of the Christ child brings you transcendent love, faith and hope – the things that can work against the violence and oppression in the world.

Merry Christmas from the staff at The Episcopal Center. Joy and peace in 2013.
– The Rt. Rev. Robert R. Gepert and the EDWM Staff

Upon My Return from Sabbatical

The word sabbatical means literally a ceasing. Though the concept of a sabbatical has been largely adopted by academia, sabbatical originates from within the church, where clergy in cathedrals were given a hiatus which lasted two months to a year.

I want to thank the diocese for the gift of my sabbatical, from which I returned this week.

Before I left, I was not so much tired as I was weary.

I learned that it’s nice to be Bob Gepert. Bob Gepert is defined by things other than bishop. The things that I really want to be remembered for are being a husband and a father. A child of God. A spiritual person.

At the same time, I love the diocese.

I’m seeing more opportunities to change the story, and I will be sharing some of my ideas in the coming months.
I think for me, some of the problems in the diocese had taken on a life of their own, preventing me from seeing the church at work in healthy ways. I have a different perspective now.

I am just so grateful.

I spent time reading through my old journals, some dating back to the 1986, filled with names of people I had forgotten and situations I had put out of my mind. Some of the lessons, which included experiences I’ve had as bishop, were hard for me to learn, but helped me to understand so much more about the way the church works. I gained wisdom.

In July I told you of my plans to work on a book incorporating my knowledge of family systems theory, practical experience and the Rule of St. Benedict, and incorporating the radical teachings of Jesus into our lives and institutions. The book is coming together. The gift of the sabbatical gave me time to work on that.

I’ve also come to understand that part of my next ministry is about coaching leaders through difficult situations. I learned these skills from the diocese and every other church I was a priest in before. My spiritual director has helped me to see that coaching others, rather than being in front, is part of my next ministry.

The sabbatical was also important to my wife Anne and me. It gave us a preview of retirement. Anne is an extrovert, but I like quiet time. We fell into a rhythm, starting with breakfast together every day. Mornings, we retreated to our personal spaces in the home we have chosen for our retirement in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She has a studio on the third floor of the house; I have an office on the second floor in the back of the house.  We met for lunch, after which I went on a long 4-5 mile walk around the city. We met for tea later in the afternoon, then a late dinner.

Our children and grandchildren were able to visit us on the weekends. Anne and I have been unable to do anything on the weekends since I am most often working.  But most people, including our children who are employed in secular jobs, are free on the weekends.

The remodel of our kitchen was completed the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving. All but one of our children was able to come to Pennsylvania to spend it with us.

It’s too early to say what the experience of the diocese has meant for me. It has been a wonderful but challenging ministry. I’m someone who gets bored if I don’t have a challenge. As a priest, I knew it was time to go when my parishes were running themselves. I think a lot of people look forward to getting to that place, but not me. I can honestly say that the diocese has never bored me.

The time I was given to be away from the day-to-day work of bishop makes it seem less oppressive upon my return.

To expand, I think it’s important for parishes to understand the importance of consecutive days off, vacation time and retreat time for their clergy. It is also important for clergy to have regular meetings with a spiritual director. Parishes should be willing to send their clergy person to be spiritually refreshed, renewed and to go deeper. In turn, she or he can encourage us to go deeper. How can a spiritual leader teach and encourage spirituality when they’re not working on their own spiritual lives?

I’m grateful I was given the time and space of a sabbatical. I am refreshed and able to offer myself fully to prepare the diocese for the transition to its ninth bishop. 

– The Rt. Rev. Robert R. Gepert

Staff Blog: The Consecration of a New Church

We Episcopalians in Western Michigan have strong attachments to our church buildings. They are beautiful structures with stained-glass windows, high ceilings, and historic design. They are places of sanctuary where generations of families experience the sacraments and love of community with reverent consistency.

It’s difficult when a parish must leave or face the loss of its building. There is fear that without the building, there will be no congregation, no ministry, no outreach, and a lost connection to the past.

St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Paw Paw, however, has just walked through the darkness of losing not one but two buildings to which their identity was closely linked. Their journey comes full circle at the consecration of their new church building on Saturday, January 12, 2013 in Paw Paw. (Click here to see EDWM calendar for details).

The original church in Paw Paw, like many of our churches, has a Michigan historic marker. Consecrated in 1876, it served the congregation for well over 120 years. However, it was in desperate need of repair and renovation, which was cost-prohibitive to the congregation. The parish decided at that point to build a new, much-larger church.

Five years ago, when the Very Rev. Rebecca Crise, Dean of the St. Joseph Deanery and rector of St. Mark’s was called to the parish, they had already moved into the new building.

But the church was quickly draining its cash reserves on the new mortgage.

Mother Rebecca helped the parish see it had to set priorities between the building and the ministry that they wanted, using the resources that they had.

In early 2011, the vestry of St. Mark’s voted to sell the new building.

The bank which had mortgaged it agreed to a short sale. It was sold to a non-denominational church in Paw Paw.

Faced with having no building or worship space, the congregation was grateful to form a partnership that enabled them to rent space from the Seventh Day Adventist Church in Paw Paw. Since Seventh Day Adventists meet on Saturday, St. Mark’s was able to use their space for Sunday services, where they worshipped one year.

“The time after we left the new building was a year of grieving,” said Mother Rebecca. “The building that we lost was a symbol of hopes, dreams, blood, sweat and tears. It was a time of recognizing that if we were going to survive, we had to pick ourselves up and try again. It was a time of prioritizing.”

However, the congregation longed for a home of its own. It was difficult to do their ministry in another church’s building.

In a quick turn of events over the summer, the congregation became aware that a small church in Paw Paw, one they had once wanted to buy, was available for sale again. The owners of the little white church contacted the St. Mark’s treasurer and said they were seeking a buyer

With little time to make a decision, Mother Rebecca implored the congregation to dig deep and offer what they could for the purchase.

The congregation raised $80,000, and the offer was accepted. The congregation voted unanimously to purchase the building. The Standing Committee of the diocese later approved the purchase as well.

The first service of St. Mark’s in the new building was a funeral for a long-time member on November 3rd of this year. The first Sunday in the new church was November 4th.

Mother Rebecca admits it has been difficult for St. Mark’s. Membership in a congregation is lost anytime big changes are made. The loss was two-fold, having happened when leaving their first building as well as their subsequent brand-new building. But the vote to purchase the new St. Mark’s building, a little white church built in 1956, was unanimous.

“It is exciting to watch a congregation pay attention to prudent stewardship and focus on the needs of ministry,” said the Rev. Canon William Spaid. “St. Mark’s seems to have found an ideal location for serving the needs of the Paw Paw community."

Their new worship space holds about 100 people comfortably, although they are still seeking seating. There is also space for one office and a sacristy. Downstairs there is space for a fellowship hall and several classrooms.

“Our energy is high, and there is hope, enthusiasm and a sense of ownership,” said Mother Rebecca. “St. Mark's has proven you can let go of the building and survive and thrive.”

You can learn more about St. Marks Episcopal Church in Paw Paw on their website (click here now). The Very Rev. Rebecca Crise can be emailed by clicking here now. This article was written by Communications Assistant to the Bishop, Karmel Puzzuoli.

Guest Blog: "Giving Thanks for Ordinary Things" by Nann Bell

Recently I was having a difficult day.  I wasn’t feeling well and was encountering a number of frustrations.  As I was returning home after running around here and there,  John Rutter’s setting of “For the Beauty of the Earth” come up on the CD playing in the car.  If you aren’t familiar with this piece, you can find many recordings of it on YouTube - and it’s well worth knowing.  The lyrics and music of the hymn returned me to a place of joy and gratitude that I’d let the day’s aggravations pull me away from.

And as I have found to be true time and again, when I turned my focus to all that is good in my life and to telling God how grateful I truly am for all those things, the difficulties of the day mattered much less. And that started me reflecting on how important a sense of gratitude and the joy that comes from it has been in my life. 

Back in my twenties I often ended my day knowing things had happened during the day that I wanted to thank God for, but I had no memory of just what those things were.

Now then, I am a cradle Episcopalian and I am at least the 5th generation of women on my mother’s side to be such. With that background, I learned early on that thanksgiving should be a part of one’s prayer life. I kept forgetting stuff though and it seemed rather too casual to say, “I can’t remember the good stuff, God, but I know some happened.  You know what it is and thank you!” 

Around this time one of the priests at the church I attended then mentioned the prayers the traditional Jews say throughout their day, thanking God for the ordinary things in our lives.  That made a lot of sense to me and I resolved to begin a new practice of saying thank you at the time something good happened.  Not just big good things like avoiding a major car accident but also the small stuff, those little daily hassles you expect to be a royal pain but that somehow magically work out. At these times I would stop for just 2 or 3 seconds and say a heartfelt “thank you” to God. Sometimes I’d remember to do it right away, sometimes it took a while to sink in that something had really gone right. Whichever way, I’d take a few seconds as soon as that realization hit me.

I was surprised by the overall effect this new practice had on me.  Because I was saying thank you after many little things throughout the day, I became much, much more aware of all the blessings, large and small both, of life. And I found that expressing my gratitude to God throughout the day changed my mood and my ability to handle frustrations.  I was in a better frame of mind overall for being reminded of all the good in my life. The daily annoyances didn’t matter nearly as much with that balance in my mind.   Other people - coworkers, family, friends - began to comment on how well I took things in stride.

Fast forward 30 years . . . I am now 55 years old and am under treatment for 4 chronic illnesses. Pain and fatigue are perfectly ordinary to me along with a limited diet due to my most recent diagnosis. If I were to wake up tomorrow feeling well, I’d be in such shock I’d accomplish nothing all day! (But I’d still like to try it.) And yet I have people continually commenting that I’m always smiling and seem to take it all so well. Even my doctors comment on my attitude. My standard response to these comments is that aside from a few health problems, I really do have a good life. And it’s true - I do have a good life.  Only recently, on that rough day when I heard “For the Beauty of the Earth," did I realize the connection between my long-standing practice of saying thanks throughout the day and my approach to life with chronic illness.

I do have a lot in my life that warrants complaining and whining.  To be honest, there are times when I indulge in these things though generally just to a few friends and family members who don’t tell on me. But my life has so many more things that are good, things to be grateful for, things to celebrate.  Saying thank you every day, throughout the day, reminds me of this constantly.  Give it a try.  

Nann Bell is a homemaker, cat mother, fabric artisan and area volunteer. A Florida native, she is now grateful for Michigan's seasons, for the community of Manistee and the ongoing support of her husband, the Rev. Mike Bell, rector of Holy Trinity. You may email her by clicking here.

Clergy Blog: "On Change and the Church" by the Rev. Nurya L. Parish

Contrary to popular wisdom, the proper first response to a changing world is not to ask, ‘How should we change?’ but rather to ask, ‘What do we stand for and why do we exist?’ This should never change. And then feel free to change everything else.

- Built to Last, Jim Collins and Jerry Porras

It has become commonplace to suggest that the twenty-first century is a time of unprecedented change both for the church and for the world. But over the two millennia of our existence, the church has seen countless changes.

The Roman Empire rose and fell. The Great Schism led to two separated churches, East and West. Through the development of the printing press, texts became accessible to the masses. Literacy, once the privilege of the few, became the right of the many. The Reformation reorganized the church again. And now, the rise of the Internet is reshaping civilization as we know it. 

“What’s past is prologue; what’s to come, in yours and my discharge,” wrote Shakespeare. In response to today’s changing world, this summer at General Convention the church unanimously decided to appoint a task force to recommend restructure at the national level. 

More recently, our neighbors in the Diocese of Indianapolis passed a similar resolution focusing on the diocesan level. Most likely, your church also is wondering how best to change to meet the times.

Collins and Porras advise that the future of the church rests in rediscovering our core purpose and principles, and reshaping our forms and structures to express them appropriately today. The first question to ask in any change initiative is “Why are we here?” Our catechism responds: “the mission of the church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ” (BCP, 855).

This stated purpose claims two universal truths: first, that we live in a world where people are no longer at unity with God and one another; second, that the restoration of this broken world is found in Christ. As the church, we accept these truths, pay attention to them, and proclaim them to the world.

“The church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord,” sings the hymn. As we change to meet the times, this cannot change. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). In fact, it is He who leads us ever forward, that generations to come might also know his name and participate in the restoration of the world which he both began and continues until the end of time.

The Rev. Nurya L. Parish, is the associate priest at St. Andrews Episcopal Church in Grand Rapids. She can be emailed by clicking here. Her blog is called Plainsong Farm.

Clergy Blog: "The Promise of a Relevant, Growing and Engaging Church" by the Rev. Brian Coleman

I had the good fortune, the year I was ordained, to come into contact with a community organizer who asked to have a meeting with me in my office at the church. I was a newly minted priest working as a Curate in a downtown parish in Los Angeles. In truth I was floundering a bit, not sure what I was supposed to be doing, or what ministry I was supposed to be engaged in, so I welcomed her visit, and jumped at the chance to get involved in the living wage campaign and workers’ rights issues she was organizing communities around on behalf of hotel workers in Santa Monica and baggage handlers at LAX International Airport. 

Thus began my long and fruitful involvement in community organizing, not just in Los Angeles, but during my ministry in the Church of England and now as I serve as Rector of St. Thomas Church in Battle Creek. Throughout, I have found the tools of relationship building, power analysis, strategic planning, even organizing actions and demonstrations around particular social justice issues to be indispensable for the success of my ministry in the wider communities in which I serve.

It has also been highly conducive to the parochial work that makes up the lion’s share of my efforts and energy.

Recently I was elected the president of JONAH, a faith-based community organizing affiliate of the national Gamaliel Foundation. One of Gamaliel’s claims to fame is that it was the incubator in which President Barak Obama was formed politically and where he learned his skills in leadership and community organizing as he worked with Roman Catholic Churches on the South-side of Chicago, early in his career. JONAH has been working in Battle Creek for the past six years to develop a network of congregations who will be able to speak with one voice and effect change in our city for the good of its residents, especially those who are on the margins due to social, economic and racial disenfranchisement.

The point of such organizing is unapologetically clear: it is to ensure that the faith and values of member churches and organizations have influence in the public arena, and so that as decisions are made by the powers that be, we have a voice and a place at the table. Simply put we organize so that we may have power, and we want power so that the decisions that are made reflect the priorities of our faith and values.

A crucial element of community organizing is training leaders and equipping them with tools in order that they might be better able to effect change and wield power in their spheres of influence. Recently JONAH embarked on a renewed campaign to train the leadership in our member churches in these tools or organizing. One such tool is called the “one-to-one”. This is an intentional, but uncommon conversation wherein the participants seek to uncover each others’ self-interest – what drives them, what makes them tick – in order to better serve the common good and develop networks of shared interest. It is about building relationships and building power. To Christians this may sound very utilitarian, until you understand that these encounters can be Sacred Conversations where we seek to discern not only one another’s self-interest, but more deeply God’s will for our lives. In a culture that isolates individuals from community, and which increasingly alienates us from one another and our selves, what more holy occupation could there be than to oppose these forces and bind ourselves together in relationships that are based in mutual discernment, and concern for the common good? 

I charged my Vestry, three months ago to engage in these Sacred Conversations, and they have been busy undertaking their mission with every active member of the congregation. By the time the process is complete we will have engaged in over 156 Sacred Conversations. We are beginning to see patterns and commonalities in the lives of those with whom we worship, we are gaining clarity about who we are called to be and what we are called to do, we have a deeper understanding of the challenges individuals face, and how we might respond to these challenges in faith and hope.

I fully expect this to transform the culture of St. Thomas Church. In fact, according to findings from the Congregational Development Research Study * engaging in such community organizing can strongly benefit a variety of congregations. As reported by participating lay leaders and clergy in interviews, potential benefits include the following: 

1.  More relationships among congregants and with members of other faith traditions
2. Transfer of leadership skills learned by lay leaders and clergy at trainings that are applicable to many different arenas, e.g. congregational, organizational, professional, and personal 
3. An increased number of leaders who participate in the congregation’s programs and work 
4. Heightened visibility and influence of the congregation within the community
   5. A deeper understanding of the faith tradition’s call for mission
   6. An increase in congregational membership

Now, I ask you, who wouldn’t want these benefits for their church? Have I piqued your interest? I hope so. You can learn more about faith-based community organizing and get hands-on experience at the upcoming Diocesan Leadership Days to be held on February 9th, 2013– St. Luke’s, Kalamazoo February 23, 2013 – St. Marks, Grand Rapids March 2, 2013 – Grace, Traverse City Mark your calendars, register as soon as you can, and I’ll see you there!

*Renewing Congregations The Contribution of Faith Based Community Organizing, Flahtery and Wood, Interfaith Funders, 2002/3

The Rev. Brian Coleman, rector of St. Thomas Episcopal Church, can be reached via email by clicking here.

Staff Blog: "Let the Leaders Lead" by the Rev. Canon William J. Spaid

When I visit a congregation that is preparing for a clergy transition I tell them that although they will breathe a sigh of relief when the new clergy person arrives, the transition will not be over until they and the new priest have lived together through one full liturgical year or longer. I don’t think people believe me. However, the most challenging time of a clergy transition is after the new priest arrives. Unfortunately it is not unusual, and almost predictable, that within 6-8 months of arrival I will get a call from a warden, vestry member, or other “concerned” individual with the news that their new priest is not a good fit or is behaving badly and not a good priest. Usually by the time I receive a phone call a system of negativity is already set up that escalates into unhelpful and even debilitating conflict.

Remember that our clergy leaders are on the same page as lay leaders in our congregations. Everyone wants to further the mission of the church.

Everyone wants congenial relationships within the community and community growth. Everyone wants what is right for the good of the Church. The Church invests heavily in our clergy leadership and we depend on them to be capable pastors. There is a long and careful discernment, formation, and evaluation process prior to ordination. I believe our parish search committees engage in a prayerful, cautious and diligent search process. Both the Bishop and I are committed to making careful inquiries to our colleagues in other dioceses regarding candidates. All of this work is done in anticipation and preparation for calling capable and well-qualified clergy to pastor and lead our congregations. But when they arrive trouble soon begins.

Relationships are at the heart of our congregational conflict. Sometimes the congregation is still attached emotionally to the previous pastor and the way things have been done. It would be wise to remember that the previous pastor, in most instances, chose to leave the congregation and move on to other things. The congregation should be willing to let go and move on too. However, new clergy should realize that they are always in a relationship with the previous pastor even if they never see or speak with that individual. I believe some of the conflict parishes experience is associated with the gate keeping of the congregation – Who gets information? (Do you hear the phrase “everybody knows that…?”) How do people know about parish traditions? Who makes decisions? This has a wider effect too on congregational development, because to the degree a congregation is able to welcome and assimilate a new pastor is pretty much the same degree they will be able to welcome other new comers.

I also think that some of the conflict relates to our lack of understanding of our own polity. Episcopal clergy do not work for the vestry, but with the vestry on behalf of the Bishop. The canons instruct us that Rectors and Priests-in-Charge have full authority and responsibility for not only the worship but for the spiritual jurisdiction of the parish. For a Christian that is pretty much every bit of our lives. It seems to me that a prudent pastor would want to know about and have a say in the direction of all ministries and programs of a parish, working with the vestry to understand community values, set priorities, determine resources, and practice good stewardship and accountability to one another and the community.

So, what’s the good news? The good news is that the conflict we experience in new clergy relationships is normal. It is part of the transformation from pseudo-community (where we’re all nice to one another like a veneer over our true selves) to authentic community where we accept one another for who we are and learn to work together to further the Kingdom of God. Theologian Richard Neuhaus commented, “Real community is not homogeneity. It is the discipline and devotion of disparate people bearing with one another – the hard tasks of love.”

A change in clergy leadership is like moving the dial on a kaleidoscope. The patterns of colored beads change and you can never go back to the previous patterns, only new patterns emerge. Healthy congregations live into new patterns of ministry. How can you be helpful? If you are the clergy person listen and teach, and ask questions to discover the traditions of your new community. As lay people instead of complaining to others about your new priest, go to the new priest and say help me understand why… When someone complains to you about the new priest, don’t feel responsible for that individual’s discomfort, rather encourage that person to go to the new priest. If you are unhappy do not go to others to create an Unhappiness List to present to the priest; it is not helpful. Healthy congregations treat the conflict as normal and assume it will work out in time; they are forgiving and generous. They are not anxious. They recognize that a new clergy person will have different ways of organizing and practicing ministry and they make space and celebrate. Healthy congregations focus on mission strengths and not on congregational or clerical personality. Healthy congregations let their leader lead.

Canon Spaid has worked for the Diocese since January 2003. .

"I Am an Episcopalian" by Patrician Johns

On July 4, 1948 I was born in Bayonne, New Jersey. I was baptized a few days later in a Bayonne Episcopal Church.

When I was 10 years old I was confirmed at Christ Church in Stanhope, New Jersey. At that time I was given a silver chain with a medal on it. On one side was the dove of peace and on the other the phrase “I am an Episcopalian.”

I am concerned when I hear that the Episcopal Church is working to become “mission oriented.”

During my lifetime I have experienced the church reaching out in missions. The Episcopal Church was very active in the civil rights efforts in the 1960s and before. When I was a child we could bring our Unicef boxes to church to be blessed. Many churches sent volunteers to assist communities in the aftermath of disasters. This is an effort that continues today.

I believe that individual churches should reach out and be visible in their  communities. I think having an Episcopal church being a venue during ArtPrize in Grand Rapids is wonderful. Next year I hope that the Grand Rapids churches continue to participate. One simple way would be to open the church sanctuaries to become resting places for those trying to see all 1500 pieces of artwork and whose feet really hurt. Just think how appreciative art lovers would be to find a bathroom they could use.

I do think that our churches need to do more to attract members. This will not be easy and will take time. I think the effort can begin by being visible in the community. This can mean serving a free breakfast during the summer as Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Hastings did this summer. Even making sure that churches advertise in local papers or help support community organizations and events are ways to reach out for new members.

I am telling you my own experience because I believe that there are many ways for the church to welcome both new and returning members. Sometimes church members can experience the spirit even in another denomination but still be true to their own. As an adult I moved away from the church but if anyone asked me what church I went to, I would reply, “I am not a member of any church but, I am an Episcopalian.”

More than 32 years ago I married my husband Michael. Ours was an outside wedding, looking at a lake in New Jersey. The ceremony was officiated by the Methodist minister from my in-law’s church.

Ten years later our daughter Elena was born. Several days after she was born she was baptized on Thanksgiving Day at an Episcopal church in Northfield, Ohio. Michael’s parents were there as well.

We moved to Michigan when Elena was just about 3 years old. We did not belong to any church but as a writer for a community paper I knew about many of the activities of the churches in the community.

When she was 11 years old, Elena told me that she wanted to go to church. She went first with some friends to the Middleville United Methodist Church.

Then she said she would like to go to a church with a woman minister. I had heard that Saint Francis of Assisi Episcopal Church in Orangeville had a woman priest, Barbara Wilson.

We were welcomed there by both Barbara and members of the congregation. It didn’t matter whether we knelt or stood. We were accepted and this was celebrated in the “Peace.” We chose to attend there and kept going. Elena was confirmed, served as an acolyte and sang solos during services.

One of my best memories of being at Saint Francis is Elena singing “As the Deer” with her grandparents and her dad Michael sitting in the pews.

As a college student she sang “As the Deer” as requested by her grandmother before she died in 2009. At the Methodist Church in Butler, New Jersey there were many tears of joy and reflection during this part of the funeral service.

Because of a medical problem, I cannot drive to Orangeville to attend services any longer. Mother Barbara has been there for me in what has been a very difficult time for me. I have learned a great deal from Mother Barbara. My faith is deeper and my understanding of Christ in my life is clearer.

When asked I still say, “I am an Episcopalian.”

Patricia Johns is a member of St. Francis of Assisi Episcopal Church in Orangeville, Michigan. She can be reached by e-mail by clicking here.

"The Seven Week Advent" by the Rev. Mike Wernick

The Rev. Mike Wernick

On November 11, 2012, the people of Holy Cross Episcopal Church and Ascension Lutheran Church (in Kentwood) will begin the celebration of an expanded, seven-week Advent. The Rev. Mike Wernick (Rector and Pastor of both) learned about and experienced this expanded Advent at Bexley Hall Seminary in Columbus, OH from The Very Rev. William Petersen (who developed the idea in 2006 as a part of liturgical renewal) and The Rev. Dr. Elise Feyerherm (who prepared some of the materials). Fr. Mike thought the people at these two parishes would appreciate the underlying theology, and so presented the idea to them some months ago.

The Rev. Petersen explained: "In its origin, the season of Advent was nearly seven weeks. The Gregorian Sacramentary introduced a four-week Advent in Rome in the seventh century, but this truncated version of the season was not widely adopted in other western churches until the twelfth or thirteenth century. The Orthodox churches still observe a longer Advent; but by the

time of the 16th-century western reformations, few remembered that Advent had once been longer; and until the Christmas culture of the 20th century gained momentum, its focus had clearly been eschatological."

The primary focus of Advent is the full manifestation of the Reign of God. This is the exclusive focus of the lectionary from the Sunday after All Saints’ Day until the last week of Advent. Only in the last week do these readings which form the thematic emphasis of the Church’s weekly worship begin to shift from a focus on eschatology to that of incarnation.

But competition from our modern culture, with Christmas decorations lurking in the back corners of supermarkets from late August, join with the surreptitiously expanding shelves of Christmas items in other retail establishments, just waiting for Halloween to pass so that they can all explode into their own full manifestation on November 1st. Add to this the unrelenting barrage of television and other electronic media advertisements and music for the holiday season, and the marketing purposes are complete.

And the Church has little defense against all of this. By the time Advent begins, many churches are already singing Christmas hymns or holding "Lessons and Carols" services; and by the beginning of December we are well on our way to Bethlehem. For all intents and purposes, then, our culture––the culture of Christmas––has effectively eclipsed the season of Advent and precluded any engagement of its primary focus.

But what is the primary focus of Advent? If it's only the Nativity or our preparation for it, then something vital is missing. We say that the season is the beginning of the liturgical year; but the original intent of the season was to begin, by looking to the end. The wisdom of poet T.S. Eliot captures some of the sense of this intent in the line, "In my beginning is my end." To apply that wisdom to the present matter is to recognize that we're better served, at the start of a new year, to look to the end, to the goal, to the eternal moment that makes sense of all our moments. And, for Christians, this means a focus first on the full manifestation, the parousia, of all that is

implied in and by the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

This trial use includes resources that are available online at www.theadventproject.org (such as collects, updated O Antiphons, prayers of the people, a wreath lighting ceremony, proper prefaces, and hymn suggestions, and an opportunity for feedback) and is supported by the North American Academy of Liturgy.

"Beautiful Choices" by The Very Rev. Jared C. Cramer, SCP

The Very Rev. Jared C. Cramer, SCP

Earlier this year, I spent several days at the Lilly Endowment’s Transition into Ministry Conference. I used to go to this Conference when I was a Clergy Resident at Christ Church in Alexandria, VA, before I moved back home to Grand Haven to serve as the rector of St. John’s. At the conference this year, I was invited to return as a small group leader. I was glad it fit in my calendar to go, delighted at the opportunity to spend the majority of a week reflecting with young people just entering ministry about the shape of ministry in this day and age.

And what I was particularly delighted about was the theme for the conference… beauty.

At our opening plenary, the keynote speaker told the story of a women’s group in the church that wanted to raise money for the church in Haiti.

They worked and worked and raised $1,000 to send to Haiti, to a women’s group in a church there. When the American group told the Haitian group that the money was ready and that it could be sent at any time, the Haitian ladies told the American group what they wanted to do with the money.

The Haitian women’s group wanted to use the money to take a flower arranging class so they could arrange flowers for their church’s altar. They wanted to use the money and make blue satin hats to match the blue robes that had been given to them awhile ago by another church.

And, apparently, it took a long time to convince the American women’s group that this was a good idea.

The American group wanted to do something “serious,” like dig a well. A flower-arranging task seemed… frivolous. And so they had to be convinced to still send the money.

One morning we based our conversations at the conference around Psalm 27:4, “One thing I have asked of the Lord; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life; to behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.”

The Haitian women wanted beauty, they wanted to create beauty in their worship. The American women didn’t think that was serious enough, they had to be convinced that these Haitian women knew what they really needed. And what the Haitian women believed they really needed was the ability to create beauty in their worship, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to seek God in the temple.

We live in such a binary world, a world that is always insisting that there are choices that must be made. We’re always being pushed to these false choices and one of the big ones is the false choice between “beauty” and the seemingly more serious need for “mission.”

What if the two are actually inter-related?

I remember when I was living in Tennessee. My wife and I were having dinner with Dan and Paul, a couple who had befriended us when we started attending the Episcopal Cathedral in Nashville. I was talking about a discussion we’d had in seminary about the possible decision to spend millions on a new building when there were hungry and poor people in need in a community. It seemed like an obvious answer to me—taking care of the poor came first. Who cares about a building?

Paul looked at me and said, “But Jared, if you take care of the poor today and don’t build the magnificent building, where will the poor tomorrow go to pray? Where will they go to experience the beauty of holiness that could have been found in that church?”

This is the thing about a false choice. It assumes that a need is singular and clear. The idea that the need is only feeding the hungry or caring for the poor—this misses the possibility that the poor may need an experience of God in a beautiful place. The idea that the need is only to build a well—this misses the possibility that they might really need to learn how to arrange some magnificent flowers.

False choices are limiting, they only see part of the truth, part of the need, part of the way that God is breaking in, part of the way that God is working out redemption.

And so at my parish we do feed the hungry. We absolutely are committed to feeding the hungry. But we also gratefully accept a gift from a parishioner who wants to spend a significant amount of money to put in a prayer and meditation garden, complete with brick paths, gorgeous plants and flower, a statue of St. Francis in the middle… so that perhaps on your way to be fed, you might experience God in the garden as well as in the kitchen.

Beauty, I sometimes fear, does not have enough advocates in the church today.

Because in the end, after every belly is filled, after every oppressed person is set free, after creation is breathed into and restored and renewed and recreated, after all this glorious redemption is done… there is one more thing that I know I’ll want. There is one more thing that I seek.

To behold the fair beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.

The Very Rev. Jared C. Cramer, SCP, serves as Rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church in his hometown of Grand Haven and as Dean of the Lakeshore Deanery. His book, Safeguarded by Glory: Michael Ramsey’s Ecclesiology and the Struggles of Contemporary Anglicanism, can be found at Amazon.com. This essay is an edited version of what that previously appeared at his blog: carewiththecure.blogspot.com.

Staff Blog: "Our Insider Teminology by Karmel Puzzuoli

By Karmel Puzzuoli, Communications Assistant to the Bishop.

I still remember the first Sunday I stepped into the Episcopal Church. It was at St. Thomas, still my home parish, one frigid March morning in 2008.

The worship style was new, but I was taken aback by the beauty of it all, the peace and joy in the music, the beautiful words and traditions, the uplifting presence of God. I said to myself, “I never want to leave here.”

At the same time, I remember breaking into a sweat. Stand up? Kneel? Genuflect? Say “amen.” What’s that thing they do right before the Gospel reading? The Nicene what?I thumbed through the service bulletin, trying to figure out what to say, when to say it, what it meant, and how to avoid looking like a rookie.

It took several months before I felt like I had it down, but even four years later I still occasionally feel tripped up like a newbie.

I grew up in rural Kansas where my family attended a fundamentalist church called the Church of Christ, in which the underlying message every Sunday had something to do with sinning, asking forgiveness, redemption, heaven, hell and stuff like that. It was boring (for me), but easy to understand.

But the liturgical service in The Episcopal Church, which I joined at the age of 36, was completely foreign to me. It took me awhile to figure it out. Heck, I’m not even sure I have figured it all out yet.

When I see new people sitting in our pews, I wonder if they are experiencing the same sweaty nervousness that I did. What can we do to make it easier for those just getting to know us? What can we do to make it easier for people who don’t know us, but are looking at the sign “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You,” and wondering what are they all about?

I am currently in the middle of wrestling with our insider terminology. I think it can be a big barrier to those on the outside. Even our name, Episcopal, which is derived from a Greek word meaning “overseer,” and means bishops, or a system of church governance overseen by bishops, can be a little inaccessible to those who are church-shopping.

We use a lot of terms in the Episcopal Church that aren’t intuitive. A communications colleague of mine dislikes the word discernment for its lack of intuitive meaning in our churches. Stewardship makes me think of helpful folks who work in air travel. And every time I hear the word formation, I think of geese flying south for the winter, or the Blue Angels in an air show.

In fact, my friend Fr. Mark Engle, agrees. “The folks who need formation most are out there,” he said, and pointed outside. “They have no clue what we’re talking about when we say formation.”

Our dear Canon Spaid, who LOVES the traditions of the church, seems to also appreciate the difficulty in understanding TEC:

“What if you said to a newcomer, ‘Go through the narthex to the undercroft where our liturgies for the Triduum will take place,’” he joked. “There are so many words and terms that relate to the church that make perfect sense to me, and are the correct word, but people on the outside wouldn’t necessarily know them like chasuble, alb, stole, cassock and surplice, orphreys on altar hangings. Where is the clerestory? Should we use homily or sermon? Should we invite people to worship or the Holy Eucharist? Should canticles use their Latin or English titles – This Sunday we’ll sing the Benedictus Dominus Deus or The Song of Zachariah? Should we call them Canticles or Songs from Scripture? It’s the acronyms that get me: EfM, DOK, ECW, EDWM, P in C, CofE.”

LOL!

THAT’s what I’m talking about.

My new rule for myself … if I type in the word on Google, like formation, and the definition doesn’t match the one we use in the church, I choose a different word. This is my personal and professional preference.

Right now, the Episcopal Church is going through a period of reinvention, moving away from an institutional model and toward a mission-driven one. We are thinking about what we are and how we survive in a time of competitive church-going.

The challenge for us is to find ways to preserve our traditions without being exclusive and alienating potential newcomers. It's a difficult challenge, and something we need to think about.

It’s also a great time for all of us to talk about our faith, what it means to us, and how it has transformed our lives. It’s a time to be disciples, and a time to be evangelists! No insider terminology is needed to proclaim the way the Episcopal Church has transformed your life.

I welcome your contributions to this blog, as well!
Karmel Puzzuoli is the Communications Assistant to the Bishop for the Episcopal Diocese of Western Michigan. She can be reached at kpuzzuoli@edwm.org.