New Life – A New Generation

I recently completed a six-week intensive online seminar from the Barna Group, a think tank that has done a great deal of research on a topic of great interest to me: the religious inclinations and spiritual yearnings of what sociologists call Generation Z, young people born between 1996 and 2008. Many, we were told, in this age group did not receive a religious grounding from their family. Still, they express a curiosity about the sacred, a yearning for community, and a willingness to learn about religious traditions.

Generally, Gen Z young adults say they do not find what they are looking for in traditional places of worship. They feel passionately about many social issues such as race and gender equality, LGBTQ and immigration rights, gun reform, and reproductive rights. Yet some of these issues put them at odds with traditional religious teaching or at least with those who inhabit traditional religious spaces. Consequently, many Gen Zs say they lack a sense of belonging- the very element that is at the heart of religious community.

Research shows that it is not that these young adults are stepping away as much as it is not being raised in religious institutions in the first place, unlike Millennials or Generation X-ers. The question comes up from so many leaders: How can we get them back? The data reminds us that they have not been there in the first place.

Over 70% of young people researchers that they are religious. About the same number say they feel they are spiritual. There is a lot of overlap in those categories. One can be both things, or just one of the two. Young people continually move back and forth between these categories depending on their experiences. Many times, they are interested in rituals that connect them back across millennia and to communities of faith that they respect and find resonant today. Most importantly, they are not interested in accepting a whole faith system simply to access one or two important rituals.

Young people’s spiritualities tend to seek religious traditions that say less and do more. Young adults increasingly appear very skeptical of people who talk all the time. I think they might tell us that from their perspective, a lot of faith proclamations have not held up well, especially when it comes to issues that they really care about concerning justice, racial equity, and gender equity. They look ways of believing that encompass those elements. So, engaging with nature, being more contemplative, and enhancing meditation become practices that provide space for these values and concerns.

All this research shows that this generation is intensely values driven. Rather than prizing status, conformity, or achievement, Gen Z allow their values to drive their decisions. Those values deal principally with issues around justice and equity. Rightly or wrongly, they perceive that religious communities just don’t care about those issues at the same level they do, and that is where the disconnect develops.

In so many ways, this generation is the most diverse in terms of gender, race, and ethnicity that our society has known for quite some time. It is certainly the most diverse in terms of public policy. When organizations and religious institutions don’t engage in discussion about those matters, or even understand that they should be a part of the discussion, what young people hear is that these organizations do not care about them. For example, when we see interest in Black Lives Matter and racial justice, as well as in other issues mentioned, what we see is that diversity matters in ways it has not mattered to prior generations. For Gen Z, it matters because diversity is a fundamental part of what Gen Z is: it plays a critical part of their identity formation, religious exploration, and the process of defining their sense of self. In other words, diversity and inclusion are at the core who they are.

All this only skims the deep insights these studies present – and the profound challenges that face those who earnestly want to hand on what they received in faith. Over the months to follow, we will continue to explore this crucial element of our future. I hope to share these insights with Vestry as we explore the way forward with our vision for the future. Stay tuned!

Love so amazing, so divine

 

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss

And pour contempt on all my pride.

These words from a familiar hymn are a reminder of the reason for the season of Lent: over a period of 40 days, we undertake a spiritual journey deep into ourselves with our eyes focused on the Cross, and hopefully rediscover – or discover for the first time – the glory and the victory which are ours because of what Jesus did for us. It is a time of renewal when we can commit to the work of laying our whole lives down for Christ. Hopefully, that is what Lent, 2022, will be for all of us.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God!

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to His blood.

Lent is the span of time in the church calendar that starts with Ash Wednesday on March 2nd and ends with the celebrations of The Great Vigil of Easter. Lent provides us a time to reflect, repent, and pray as a way of preparing our hearts to receive the gift of life, which is the promise of Easter. As Episcopalians, we observe Lent, though not every Christian denomination does, as an opportunity for us to focus our thoughts on Jesus Christ and our call to discipline ship in the power of the Spirit.

Some of us will begin Lent by marking our foreheads with ash as a symbol of sorrow and mourning over our sin. The first few verses of Job 42 show us an example of ashes used as a symbol of repentance. Some of us will choose to give up a habit or behavior during Lent as an exercise in prayerful self-denial (see the article later in this newsletter) involving something as simple as not drinking our favorite beverage during Lent to an all-out program of fasting.

We can also commit to a special devotional activity – daily Scripture reading, regular prayer for a specific person or topic throughout Lent, or volunteer work in their community. A full range of opportunities is available on our Christian Formation website at https://www.journeyinfaith-stlukeslebanon.org/lent-2022-walk-with-purpose.html.

The choice to observe Lent is a personal one—the whole point is to focus your heart and mind on Jesus during the journey to Easter. There’s no requirement to observe it, but it is always spiritually rewarding. Anglicans and other Christians around the globe observe Lent each year; if you’ve never done so, I’d invite you to try it in 2022. Whether you observe Lent in a small or major way, you’ll be amazed at what happens when you devote a part of each day to reflecting on Jesus Christ and God’s Word.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

I pray that our Lenten season of 2022 will be one of wonder, meditation, and communal support as we remember and worship our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Namaste – the divine life in me greets the divine life in you.

Some time ago, I entered a classroom at Niagara University where I was teaching “froshies” the rudiments of the New Testament, focusing on the teachings of Jesus in the gospels. The classroom was located near the Campus Ministry office. In the corridor, I noticed a series of handmade posters promoting classical religious virtues. The one that really caught my eye highlighted the virtue of humility. It said something like this: humility is admiration for the gifts that God has given to others – reverence for God in others – recognizing and developing our own gifts for others. It seemed a bit prosaic for an inspirational poster, but it accomplished its purpose. So much so, that I pulled out the journal I always carry and recorded the sentiments expressed. It really accomplished its purpose when you realize that the year 1991 and I still refer to it. 

Too often when we hear the word humility, we think of how we ought to be self-effacing – diminish ourselves in the light of others. Here however, the word admiration opened for me a new way of thinking about humility. On seeing admiration in connection with humility, I began to recognize all the ways in which, being preoccupied with myself, I failed to stop and admire the gifts of others. I am happy to say the poster almost immediately made me admire the gifts of those around me, including my students!

I’ve recalled that poster many times since, especially when I witness pitched battles over social issues. It is so amazingly easy to get drawn into confrontations over policies, structures, and outcomes when we confront the problems that face our communities. Regardless of which side we may take on a particular issue, we are all thinking about doing what we deem “good.” The problem emerges when we see anyone who questions or opposes us as a barrier to accomplishing that good. We come close to falling into what is known as a “technocratic paradigm,” where we treat others not as persons but as thing - as unruly “parts” of a mechanical assembly. But society is not a machine. It is something that we do with other people. Thus, church teachings are not exclusively about policies and plans. As Christians our “positions” must reflect virtues – the positive habits we form as we learn how to interact with others. To overcome the growing divisions in our communities, we may need something like what we might call social humility – something like what is rooted in the convictions the poster expressed.

To develop a sense of social humility, we must acknowledge that none of us can see the whole picture. None of us has a “God’s-eye view” of something as vast and complicated as society. This may seem like common sense, but it is especially important for Christians.

From the beginning, wanting to “be like gods” has been part of the human condition. This temptation grows stronger when we try to better society motivated by religious faith. If we believe we are doing God’s work, we can too easily believe anyone who opposes us opposes God. “Social humility” reminds us that situations are never that simple. Social humility asks us to admire that piece of the picture that God has given to others to see and that may be hidden from our eyes.

Another important aspect is rooted in our traditional teaching about conscience—namely, it is nearly impossible to snuff out one’s conscience entirely. No matter how poorly an individual’s conscience may have been formed over time, we believe that there is still a fundamental inclination placed there by God: to do what is good. Problems emerge, however, when we are mistaken about what the good genuinely is and what means we can use to achieve it. Even so, if we believe that we search for the good with some degree of clarity, and our opponent does not, we must still believe that our opponent also seeks what is good – as they see it. Then, there is something in their view that is good and thus worth admiring.

Finally, we believe that God created humanity to be one family. Family metaphors dominate the language of human relationships in Christianity. We grow accustomed to being addressed as “brothers and sisters,” that God is “our father,” and that Mary was the “mother” of the “son” who is the “brother” to us all. Our first response to others, then, should a response we would hope for in family relationships: no matter the conflict, the option of total rejection or destruction is off the table. This is not to say that family relationships cannot break down. Parents reject children, children reject parents. People become alienated from their own families. Even Jesus recognized that possibility. But the pain of such situations alerts us that this is not God’s design for us. Instead, we should seek to find the good in our brothers and sisters—and not just our biological ones – but everyone in God’s human family.

This admiration-first approach is not easy. We need to be aware of the particular “structures of sin” that we face in trying to cultivate such humility. One of the biggest problems we face today are the ubiquitous online forums that prioritize getting attention and rousing followers. It is always easier to cultivate humility when we come face-to-face with real, not virtual, people. We know all too well that even real-life social relationships can be infected by pride, hostility, and arrogance. But we also recognize it is harder to hate someone to their face.

This isn’t about being “nice” to everyone. It isn’t about trying to get the other person to be “nice” to us. It is about living out the gospel values of respect and an acknowledgement of the dignity of every human being, even those we may not “like.” 

To follow the Way of Love, as Jesus proclaims it, we must stand up for dignity. We should especially minister to those who suffer at the hands of those who fail to respect others’ dignity. Even so, we never have permission to fail in respecting the dignity of those on the “other side.”

Is that a path of foolishness? If we think in terms of maximizing outcomes, it certainly is. But the poster in the hall at Niagara U. reminds us why it is not foolish. It is a way of experiencing conflict that says to an opponent: “you are a Child of God, and nothing you do or say is going to make me stop trying to connect with the Child within you.” It is about admiring their basic dignity and finding their gifts, no matter what. In doing that, we can never truly lose.

Where there is no vision . . .

Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he. [Proverbs 29:18 (KJV)]

Some have used this verse to emphasize the importance of vision in leadership: without a long-term plan—without a vision—people are doomed to wander aimlessly. I don’t think, however, that this is the essence of this verse. Another translation put it this way: “Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed is the one who heeds wisdom’s instruction.” (New International Version). In other words, when prophets fail to articulate the vision that God has for God’s people, the people will forget their purpose, who they are, and why God called them together into a community.

Vision in this verse refers to what a prophet sees in a dream, revelation, or prophetic utterance. Interestingly, the same word is used in another place where the writer bemoans the rarity of the word of the Lord and the scarcity of prophets to speak that word (I Samuel 3:1). A lack of vision, then, is a lack of God’s divine communication.

The Feast of the Epiphany begins a time when Scripture reveals “visions galore”: the dreams of the magi, the utterance of Simeon at the presentation in the temple, doves descending at the Lord’s baptism. And that’s only the beginning. The season goes on to manifest the identity of Jesus as the promised Messiah beginning with the wedding at Cana ends with the glorious vision of Jesus transfigured – a vision entrusted to Peter, James, and John – Jesus’ closest friends on Transfiguration Sunday.

These are all supernatural events. But the kind of vision we need is not miraculous. Rather, its key lies in the second part of the verse: he that keepeth the law, happy is he. Again, the NIV guides us: blessed is the one who heeds wisdom’s instruction.

In this sense, vision becomes the roadmap of what God wants us to do. It is God’s view of our future as those marked out as his own (BCP 308). Vision provides an answer to the question, “What should we do?” When what comes into view is from God, it is more than a dream – it is vision. Yet, if we fail to acquire clear vision then passion and confidence will be lacking and others might not see the value of faith in God. Even members of our own community may drift away – casting off restraint. We fail as a community of faith to bring Christ to all– the message of Epiphany.

Every good planner knows that vision isn’t everything. Every vision must result in a statement mission – and a mission must be reduced to its strategic goals. As we begin to emerge from our long COVID winter, we must recall the vision and the mission goals we established in VISION 20/20 – our Gran Sueno, our big dream. But even that is not enough. Just like the vision God had for ancient Israel, our mission is a living, developing thing. Grounded in unchangeable values, the strategies shift as we adapt to new circumstances.

Through the next year, we will lean into the vision God has given us and explore new ways to fulfill our mission to make it real in our world. Only with such a vision, and a dedicated effort to “heed wisdom’s instruction” will we confidently enter a new chapter in the life of St. Luke’s

Innocence and Suffering

Today the Episcopal Church remembers the “Holy Innocents,” the subject of the “Coventry Carol” so often heard at Christmas time. We remember the slaughter of “every make child two years and under” by King Herod because of his well documented ego and paranoia. Afraid that the “newborn King of the Jews” would usurp his throne, he had the children killed to eliminate his competition.

While in all likelihood, the children suffered little (a swift death is often merciful), the agony of the parents is without parallel. Even though I do not have children, I have been assured by members of my own family that there is no greater loss to be experienced than the loss of a child, regardless of their age. In many ways, the death of one’s child upsets the natural order – children are to outlive their parents – or so it is our common wisdom.

The fact remains that infant mortality has declined greatly in our society. The great pandemics (influenza, typhus, cholera) seem almost non-existent to most of us, even as one more rears its ugly head. These diseases claimed many innocent lives only two generations ago, before the advent of modern antibiotics. And now children may die for the decision not to vaccinate them. While the death of children may have been more common and even expected years ago, the sense of loss is no less poignant whenever and for whatever reason it happens.

 
We only need to see the evening news with images of the children now being infected with COVID, the children of Latin America at the southern border, those fleeing Northern Africa across the Mediterranean. So many children. so many innocent seeking only safety and a better life.

The message of this day, however, is that out of such horrible suffering, God can change things. Even though these parents suffered such tragic and profound loss, God delivered the Christ Child by a dream message to Joseph, who took the Child and his mother to Egypt to escape the tyranny of Herod. When the Child returns, he will be the salvation of the world and proclaim a kingdom of justice and truth that would outlast any attempt by Herod to assure his own power.

That hope must be ours today – as many children suffer needlessly because of greed, prejudice, and the lust for power in nations throughout the world. We listen to the promise of Christ and carry the message of his kingdom into our world. If we remain faithful to its values and its promise, we, too, may see the “mighty cast from their thrones” so that the lowly, the powerless and voiceless innocents of our world might then be “lifted up.”

Consider well and bear in mind

Furst Christmas Eve Family Service - 2015

Christmas is a time for nostalgia. One of my favorite music sources is Holiday Traditions on Sirius/XM, the satellite radio service. Bing Crosby, the Percy Faith Orchestra, Perry Como, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Steve and Edie, and on and on. They all remind me of childhood days when we could not wait for the next Christmas album, sponsored by Goodyear or Firestone to arrive at our local Western Auto store. My dad would buy the album and we’d play it (and the ones before it in the series) over and over until the grooves would no longer track the needle on our stereo phonograph (Yes, I know. There are many who may read this and wonder what in the world I am talking about. Just ask your parents.)

Anyway, just hearing those classics brings memories of family traditions, Christmas tress toppled over by the cat as my mother completed decorating, gifts, and cookies – lots of cookies. And, of course, Midnight Mass.

These memories are always welcome and can create a comforting reverie. But those daydreams seldom recall the family tensions, arguments, or disappointments that accompanied those happy memories. As humans, we tend only to remember the good parts and try to sock the uncomfortable stuff away, out of sight and out of mind. If we are honest, though, we realize that music induced reveries are not reality. The good ol’ days weren’t always all that “good.” Perhaps there is a lesson here for us in the difficult days of our Christmas present.

The many months or the COVID-19 pandemic have been difficult and for many, deeply painful. Most of us continue to live with anxious spirits about when all this will end – when we can get back to what we account as “normal.” That time of “normal” may be what has become for us in the present, the good ol’ days.

But just like our nostalgic reveries, we  must remember that the old normal may not have been all that “good.” Our continuing response to the challenges of the pandemic are teaching many what is genuinely important. Increasingly, studies are showing us that there has been a wholesale reassessment of just what is important in our lives. Staffing difficulties, for instance, tell us that people are no longer wanting to waste their precious energies on work that doesn’t pay enough or isn’t rewarding enough to make it worthwhile. We, in turn, get frustrated because of long lines, long waits, and the need to ask ourselves, is it our instant gratification really worth it?

Many of those “Christmas Classics” on the music services were written in times of great challenge – the unemployment and pain caused by the Great Depression of the 1930s – the shortages and rationing occasioned by the war effort in the 40s. Irving Berlin wrote the wistful lyrics and yearning melody of “White Christmas” (1941) to give soldiers a reminder of what awaited them on their return home. Of course, as the years ensued, so many did not return.

So, maybe we need to recognize that these are the good ol’ days of a future generation. Just how we gather and celebrate the deeper meanings of Christmas can provide the “comfort and joy” we so eagerly desire. We can learn to live “in the moment” by recognizing just what we have and how fortunate we really are. Remembering the past does no good if we cannot learn from it. It is even less helpful is all we want is to return to it. Let’s make this Christmas one to remember – forget the flash and get to the real core of what Christmas – and we – are about. Take guidance from the opening verse of the Wessex Carol:

Good people all, this Christmas time

Consider well and bear in mind

What our good God for us has done

In sending his beloved son

If we join our hearts and minds in this endeavor, we will remember this Christmas as fondly as any that has gone before. Merry Christmas!

Well done good and faithful servant . . .

 

Can you count how many people you have met in life? We may not be able to do that accurately, but we might be able to trace the transformation that certain people have brought in us. These people could work this change because human nature is pliable, malleable, able to grow.

November is often a time to think about the past. At the end of the month, we will think over the last year or so, so that we can count our blessings at Thanksgiving. In that case, we are often drawn to our immediate circumstances – we give thanks for our health, our homes, our family ties. In the Church, the beginning of November gives us occasion to look back specifically at the people that have come and gone in our lives.

As we gather to celebrate the Feast of All Saints and the Commemoration of All Souls, take a moment to think of the men and women who made you the person you are. Then let your heart give way to gratitude:

• Your mom, teaching you to bake.
• The coach, who taught you to love the sport and to excel at it.
• The teacher, who introduced you to the love of reading.
• The older sibling, who modeled how to deal with challenges.
• The aunt, who listened to you and made you an empathetic person.
• The kid, two years ahead of you in high school, who did not belittle you, who made you believe the coming adult world would not be so bad.

Ponder for a while how different your life would be if you had never encountered them. How can you not be moved to gratitude for who they are and what they have brought into your life? Then, consider what comes after this life. Here, in this world, everything ebbs and flows. We gain, and we suffer loss. Heaven, on the other hand, is often seen as our joyful reward – where we truly become what God intended us to be from the moment of our creation. There, nothing is lost, nothing drops from the hand of God. There is no weakening or wilting.

The lives of the saints involve a true and lasting satisfaction, yet Scripture tells us heaven is not static, not an eternal stillness. Why not? Because God is the source of all creativity! So, heaven is not merely lovely mausoleum. It is a mill of blessing and an ever-flowing fountain life.

St. Paul teaches us that the core of Jesus’ mission and ministry was to reconcile us to God – to make us all acceptable in God’s sight:

Indeed, if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, how much more, once reconciled, will we be saved by his life. (Romans 5:10)

We know by the experience of others that the transformation of our soul is never complete as we walk the earth – there is always more to know, to love, to change. So how does God prefect this reconciliation as we make the transition from this world to the next?

Through the centuries, Christians have been counselled to pray for the dead. There is much about this that is difficult to understand and even more difficult to explain. Here is what is essential: Our encounter with God changes everything! Our final reconciliation to God is not worked out in a place or over time. Rather we might think about this process of dying as reaching heaven’s porch, the antechamber where God meets us and embraces us in renewing love and mercy. That cosmic embrace, that hug, is what works the transformation, finishes what is yet incomplete about our perfection in God. When we join our hearts to God’s heart in prayer for those who have died, we participate in that wonderful work of love.

Hear the words from one of the appointed readings for the funeral rite in the Book of Common Prayer

In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble (Wisdom 3:7).

Those who struggle with the notion of our need for transformation after death make two mistakes: They esteem themselves too highly by thinking they are already perfected, and they insufficiently imagine the experience of the glory of God. Remember that you once thought your life was good enough, until you fell in love, until your child was born, until the right person came along. Then everything that went before seemed so very impoverished. That is what happens when we encounter true love. It is but a shadow of what we experience in this final, eternal encounter with God.

Now think again about the people whom you were destined to meet, who changed everything about you. Think on how they began this last, complete encounter with God. Wouldn’t you want to be part of what makes them whole and entire as God created them to be? As the early days of November dawn, pray for the dead – for those we have loved – and for those who had no one to love them in this world. Join your hearts to the heart of God as he welcomes them.

Well done, good and faithful servant! . . . Enter into the joy of your master!’
(Matthew 25:23)