Exploring Sex and Violence in the Bible

By Dr. Gale A. Yee

At a recent meeting of the Pacific Asian North American Asian Women in Theology and Ministry (PANAAWTM) at Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois, one of my Old Testament colleagues introduced herself as someone who teaches sex and violence in the Bible at her seminary. 

In some ways, I could say the same. This month my co-edited book, Joshua and Judges, in the Texts@Context Series from Fortress Press, examines two biblical books, Joshua and Judges, that fit the bill precisely. 

In the lectionary of the Episcopal Church, the only Sunday readings from the book of Joshua are stories about the Israelites crossing the Jordan and entering the Promised Land, bearing the ark of the covenant (Josh 3:7-17), their circumcision and eating of first Passover in the land (Josh 5:9-12), and their renewal of the covenant, now that they are settled in the land (Josh 24:1-3, 14-25). 

Completely passed over are the horrific stories of the genocide of the indigenous Canaanites at God’s command. The only story from the book of Judges in the lectionary is one about the prophet Deborah commanding Barak to take up a military position on Mt. Tabor against the armies of the Canaanites (Judges 4:1-7). Completely ignored are the many stories of the violence against women in the book, which ends with the gang-rape of a woman and her dismemberment and the seizure and rape of 600 more women (Judges 19-21). Both books have terrible legacies. The book of Joshua has been used to legitimate the conquest, colonization, and extermination of many indigenous people across time and around the globe. Violence against women is still an appalling aspect of our societies even in this “enlightened” era.

Acknowledging the specific socio-cultural contexts from which the contributors write, Joshua and Judges, the essay collection that I edited with Athalya Brenner, confronts the issues of sex and violence in these books head on. 

Well-known biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann tackles the hermeneutical dilemma in Joshua that describes God decreeing violence so that Israel can occupy a land already inhabited by other peoples. The violence stems from the uncritical view that Israel’s covenantal chosen-ness that demands the negation of the Other, the Un-chosen. Two Israeli educators, Yonina Dor and Naomi De-Malach, examine the wide range of Jewish attitudes about the book Joshua, those that provided ideological support for Zionism, conquest of the land, and the expulsion of its residents, and those that feared that the book would sanction further violence in Israel.  Daniel Hawk surveys the parallels between the ways in which biblical Israel and American Manifest Destiny construct national identity through stories of conquest.

The essays on Judges particularly focus on the women and gender issues in the book from the social locations of their contributors. My co-editor, Athalya Brenner, argues that women intentionally framed the book of Judges by design. Three contributors examine the tent-peg wielding assassin, Jael (Judges 4-5).  Ora Brison sees in Jael a strong independent woman that offsets her experience of abused and humiliated women in her work in an Israeli women’s shelter. Ryan Bonfiglio interprets Jael and her choice to kill or not to kill Israel’s enemy general, Sisera, from the perspective of the choices his immigrant Italian grandparents faced when they settled in the US. 

I see parallels between Jael and the Chinese woman warrior, Fa Mulan, highlighting the American Orientalism of Disney’s Mulan and its influence on the gender formation of young Asian American females. Royce Victor reads Delilah through the lenses to two significant Indian literary works, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Brad Embry interprets the horrible story of the Levite’s concubine’s rape (Judge 19) from his specific religious context: the Pentecostal-Holiness Assembly of God tradition. Examining the male judge Gideon, Bar Mymon observes that Gideon puts on his masculinity the way he (Bar Mymon) dons his Israeli military uniform and becomes the Man, in a severe process of gender deconstruction and reconstruction.

The people in the pew are most likely unaware of the sex and violence embedded in the books of Joshua and Judges, since their stories are rather censored in the Sunday lectionaries. Nevertheless, I urge congregations to read and study these stories together to see how awfully familiar they are to present-day happenings. My students in my Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures have their eyes wide-opened when they read these narratives. I remember one of my students saying that she now hesitates to teach children the popular song, “Joshua fit the battle of Jericho,” because it calls to mind the atrocities committed against the indigenous Canaanites described in Joshua. I am hopeful that this volume of collected essays continues the very needed conversation we need to deal with the military and sexual violence endemic to our society.

Dr. Gale A. Yee is Nancy W. King Professor of Biblical Studies at Episcopal Divinity School.  

Transformative Liturgy

By Brett Donham

In October I participated in the most transformative worship service in my life. It was held in the St. John’s Memorial Chapel of the Episcopal Divinity School. I say “transformative” because it demonstrated possibilities of imagination and creativity that I had not experienced before. I say “participated” because, although I had very little formal role in the service I felt fully engaged, moved, and impelled by the liturgy. This was not a typical passive experience in a church. All senses were engaged; sight, sound, intellect, and emotions.

We gathered around a Baptismal font filled with water. The presider, Stephen Burns, started the service by having us repeat portions of the Baptismal Covenant following which, as we moved past the font to our chairs, we baptized ourselves again from the water in the font. Seating was arranged in choir form in the nave with parallel rows of chairs facing each other across the nave. The pulpit was at one end of the space and the altar at the other end. We faced one another as a community with the action taking place first at one end, then at another and sometimes in the middle. Lessons were read from one end and the choir led by Ellen Oak supported us in hymns from the other end. The trustees stood where they were seated for their commissioning. The hymns had a greater variety and more intensity than what I was used to. At the Eucharist we all gathered around the altar. The prayers were loosely based on the standard rubric but seemed more personal. During Communion two large drums sounded with deep sonorous tones that seemed ancient and deeply fundamental to who we were in relation to our God and to Christ.

Last week I had a similar experience at the annual service of Lessons and Carols held also in the Chapel. The seating was arranged in a V arrangement, half inclined towards the center aisle and half inclined towards the altar. The choir, sounding better than I can remember, was arranged in a shallow arc on the steps to the apse. A few of the hymns were traditional, sung by the whole gathering, some were Medieval sung in Latin by the choir and some were duets or solos. The sources of song ranged from the full congregation in the middle of the space, to the apse, to the organ loft and to the rear of the Chapel. The readings ranged from traditional to poetic. At one point Ellen started a song at the west end and slowly walked with dance movements to the east end, uniting the various sources of sound. While the music and the readings ranged over thousands of years, there was a unity and artistic wholeness in their selection. The Virgin Mary was a frequent theme.

For me it raised the question, “why can’t all services be like these were, feeding us in so many ways?”

The diocese of MA is experiencing modest growth in members of the Episcopal Church, but much of the country is seeing a slow steady decline. With few exceptions, not many people between the ages of 16 and 56 are going to church any more. One reason, among many, is that the typical Sunday service is frequently boring and takes place in a building that smells musty, is dark, and whose layout stifles creativity, energy, and life.

The new worship team at EDS of Miriam Gelfer (Dean of Students and Community Life), Ellen Oak (Director of Music), and Stephen Burns (Associate Professor of Liturgical Theology and the Study of Anglicanism), appear to have a vision to change all that and we are starting to see manifestations of the exciting possibilities. Ellen and Stephen are experts in creative liturgy and the imaginative use of space to enable it. Miriam has brought them together in an atmosphere of joy and creativity to make it happen. Miriam’s high standards and appreciation for excellent music are key ingredients. These experiments are not 1970’s feel good, hang banners and all will be changed, efforts. Rather, like the Lessons and Carols service, these experiments are being tried with thoughtfulness, integrity as well as spiritual and aesthetic wholeness. They appeal to all the senses and the intellect. The truly exciting news is that these experiments have the potential to change the Church and to make it again an exciting and life giving place for all ages to be. Seminaries are where this change must begin because seminaries have the flexibility and the obligation to immerse their students in new wants of being in community.

Not all these experiments will be entirely successful, but enough will be that EDS can build enough credible models to influence the entire church. Just as important, EDS will be sending forth graduates with a thirst to make worship more engaging and armed with examples of how to do it.

Brett Donham is the former chairman of the EDS Board of Trustees and highly regarded architect who founded the firm, Donham & Sweeney in 1967. The architect firm has designed new religious buildings such as the Wilson Chapel at Andover Newton Theological School and renovated others including St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Brookline.

Intersex and Transgender Theology

By Kwok Pui Lan

The Episcopal Church took the courageous step to approve same-sex blessing service at the General Convention last July. At the same time, the Church voted to amend church laws to include that no one would be discriminated based on “gender identity and expression.” The church affirms “gender identity (one’s inner sense of being male or female) and expression (the way in which one manifests that gender identity in the world) should not be bases for exclusion, in and of themselves, from consideration for participation in the ministries of the Church.”
 

The Rev. Dr. Cameron Partridge, an Episcopal priest and chaplain at Boston University, has worked with others for a number of years for the passage of the amendment. He was one of the panelists to speak about intersex and transgender theology at the Episcopal Divinity School (EDS) on September 7. Other panelists include Dr. Susannah Cornwall from University of Manchester, Dr. Megan K. DeFranza of Gordon College, and Iain Stanford, a doctoral student at Harvard Divinity School.

Professor Patrick S. Cheng of EDS moderated the panel and said in his opening remarks that the Christian community has talked more about lesbian and gay issues than transgender and intersex concerns. He welcomed Dr. Cornwall, an expert on intersex theology and ministry from England, to EDS to have a dialogue with other scholars in Boston.

Intersex people are those persons whose biological sex cannot be classified as clearly male or female, because they have combinations of physical features of both. Intersex people have also been called “hermaphrodite” or people with “disorder of sex development” (DSD), although these terms are contested.

Cornwall’s book, Sex and Uncertainty in the Body of Christ: Intersex Conditions and Christian Theology, is the first full-length examination of the theological implications pf intersex conditions and their medical treatment. Currently she is interviewing intersex Christians to deepen her study. She said that the Church of England has begun to discuss ministry to intersex and transgender persons, which is a step forward.

Cornwall emphasized that intersex persons challenge a binary construction of gender, which has dominated Christian theology for centuries. The acceptance of a non-pathological understanding of the intersexed necessitates the re-examination of some of the Christian images and teachings, such as the church as a feminine bride to a masculine god, the maleness of Christ, body and perfection, and marriage based on complementarities of the male and the female sexes.

In her intriguing remarks, DeFranza pointed out that the Bible offers material to discuss intersex issues. As someone who has grown up in a fundamentalist church in which women were not allowed to even pass the offering plate, she was surprised to find discussion of “atypical” bodies in the Bible. For example, in his discussion of divorce in Matthew 19:1-12, Jesus refers to different types of eunuchs, including those who have been so from birth (as different from those who have been castrated). DeFranza argues that intersex persons would have been included in this group. In Isaiah 56:3-5, the eunuchs who hold fast to God’s covenant are blessed. DeFranza said that instead of “an icon of shame,” the eunuch is raised up as “a model of discipleship.” The Bible also refers numerous times to barren women and some among them might have been intersex.

Just as intersex persons disrupt our ways of constructing gender, transgender people challenge us to see gender identity and expression not as fixed, but in a continuum. Partridge and Stanford reminded us that transgender theology concerns the whole church, because it affects how we see theological anthropology, the nature of creation, and the Body of Christ.

Partridge said that the feast he liked most is the Feast of Transfiguration. It marks the liminal space that life is not static and Christians are called to grow to be like God, as in the doctrine of theosis in the Eastern Church. He invited us to see creation as variegated and always changing and to have an expansive notion of the collective embodiment of the Body of Christ. With such an inclusive understanding of creation and the church, each person will be free to discern who God has called him or her to be and to embody the vocation that God has given.

Stanford was at the General Convention when the Episcopal Church passed the amendment not to discriminate transgender people. He noted that in church politics, the blessing of same-sex union is considered a “sexuality” issue, while the inclusion of transgender persons is seen as a “gender” issue. But the two are much related and often overlap with each other. He reminded us that homosexuals were called “inverts” by nineteenth-century sexologists such as Havelock Ellis. For them, the problem had more to do with gender non-conformity than what these people did in their bedrooms. He, too, exhorted the church to transform its understanding of sex, gender, and sexuality in its theology and ministry.

The panel provides much food for thought at the beginning of the semester. To continue the conversation, Professor Cheng is organizing a group to further discuss lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, and queer issues and theology. The video of the panel will be available later at the Episcopal Divinity School website.

Kwok Pui Lan is the William F. Cole Professor of Christian Theology and Spirituality at the Episcopal Divinity School and her book OccupyReligion: Theology of the Multitude is forthcoming from Rowman and Littlefield.

The Anglican Covenant? Now What

By Kwok Pui Lan

The Church of England and the Episcopal Church of the United States have decided not to adopt the present form of the Anglican Covenant. Many wonder what will be the future of the Anglican Communion.

 

Kwok Pui Lan at Canterbury Cathedral

The Windsor Report of 2004 first proposed the idea of a pan-Anglican covenant to set out common doctrine of the Anglican Church, relationships in the Communion, and ways to resolve conflicts among member churches. Archbishop Rowan Williams assigned a Covenant Design Group and a final version was released in December 2009 for adoption of constituent provinces.

Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, which has a clear hierarchal structure, the Anglican Communion is a family of 38 provinces, with dispersed authority across the Communion. The Archbishop of Canterbury enjoys a primacy of honor (primus inter pares), but has no legal jurisdiction over other parts of the Communion. The resolutions of the Lambeth Conference (the meeting of Anglican bishops every ten years) are not binding, but are seen as advisory for the autonomous member churches.

Such a structure can no longer hold the Communion together when it is increasingly multilingual, multicultural, and postcolonial. The issues of ordination of women priests and bishops and homosexuality have threatened the unity of the church and the bonds of affection.

At the end of March, I had the chance to meet with Archbishop Williams (right) at Lambeth Palace with a group of Anglican women theologians. Shortly before our meeting, we heard that a majority of the dioceses of the Church of England would not accept the Anglican Covenant. The Archbishop told us that he was disappointed with the outcome and expressed regret that during his tenure he was not able to bring the Communion closer together.

The Episcopal Church participated in the discussion of the Anglican Covenant in good faith. It has responded to the several drafts with thoughtfulness and care. Several theologians and church leaders have produced The Genius of Anglicanism to educate the public about the different facets of the Covenant. Professor Fredrica Harris Thompsett, Mary Wolfe Professor of Historical Theology and faculty emerita of the Episcopal Divinity School, is one of the contributors. She has been newly elected to the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church at the General Convention last July.

The Anglican Covenant is problematic because its ecclesiology (doctrine of the church) is backward looking and outdated. First, it reinforces a top-down understanding of the church, in which authority is concentrated at the top. The Covenant asks the church to “proclaim a pattern of theological and moral reasoning” based on Scripture and the catholic and apostolic faith. It places the primary responsibility of biblical interpretation in the hands of bishops and synods, although the study of lay and ordained should be taken into account. Instead of welcoming the plurality of interpretation, the Covenant is cautious about diversity in interpretation.

Second, the Covenant does not have an adequate theology of the laity. The Covenant mentions the word “laity” only twice. The Covenant mentions baptism as one of the two sacraments, but does not speak about the baptismal ministry that all believers are called to do. The bishops are set apart, as if they only need to talk with each other, and they are not part of the laos (the whole people of God).

Third, the Covenant disregards the church reform movements and liberative impulses across the churches in the second half of the twentieth century. People who have been marginalized—women, the youth, the poor, racial and ethnic minorities, and lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people—are demanding their voices to be heard. The basic church communities in Latin America offer a model of church that is anti-clerical, egalitarian, and participatory.

The Covenant has been rejected by several provinces. Now what?

The Chinese word “crisis” implies both danger and opportunity. For me, this provides an excellent opportunity for the church to enter into a process that Brazilian theologian Leonardo Boff has called Ecclesiogenesis—the birth of a new church. Instead of trying to find expedient measures and set up bureaucratic structures to solve the crisis at hand, we can begin a process of imagining a Communion that is truly global and multicultural, respecting differences and staying in conversations even when it becomes difficult.

Many Anglicans would like to see the birth of a new church focusing on the Missio Dei (mission of God) and not on policing people’s sexuality. We would like to see a church that welcomes the gifts and talents of all the baptized, and not reinforcing a hierarchy. Let the conversations on the new shape of the Anglican Church begin!

Kwok Pui Lan is the William F. Cole Professor of Christian Theology and Spirituality at the Episcopal Divinity School and her book Occupy Religion: Theology of the Multitude is forthcoming from Rowman and Littlefield.

Dip or Plunge? The General Convention Waters for the First Time Swimmer

By Susan B. Taylor      

Some people like to slowly acclimate to water. They first dip in their toes, then gathering courage they slowly inch in deeper while quickly calculating if retreat is possible before the next wave breaks. Others, such as myself, prefer to plunge-in. That’s how I approached the water off Cape Cod a few days before I arrived in Indianapolis under a blazing hot sun. And it’s how I decided to approach my first General Convention.

I wasn’t really nervous. After all, there are plenty of lifeguards on duty! And I had done my homework. Episcopal Divinity School had prepared me with a week-long intensive course taught by the Rev. Canon Edward W. Rodman with daily guest speakers included the Right Reverend Barbara C. Harris, Dio. MA; Dr. Bonnie Anderson, President, House of Deputies; The Honorable Byron Rushing, Senior Deputy, Dio. MA; Mrs. Susan Pettingill Wood, House of Bishops' Secretariat; Dr. Fredrica Harris Thompsett; The Rev. Canon Mally Lloyd and members of the Massachusetts Deputation.

And EDS hasn’t been the only shelter at General Convention. (Remember that blazing hot sun?) My own Diocese of Vermont has been an oasis here too.

Truly, the effort of scrutinizing resolutions and other resources prior to plunging into the turbulent waters was handsomely rewarded. Buoyed along with my color-coded, schedule-containing, bright orange journal I haven’t drifted out too far.

I’m navigating the channels between throngs of people to find my way into committee hearings.

I even surprised myself by speaking on A010 which calls for identifying “information to be included in the changes to the Parochial Report form based upon current changes and new realities in TEC” and to authorize and implement such changes. Resolutions can be tracked at www.generalconvention.org/gc/resolutions which is a lot easier than paddling to the display board at the far end of the corridor.

I’m swimming laps between the House of Bishops and House of Deputies; between hearings, committees, sessions, and gatherings. I’m learning the language of parliamentary procedure. I’m decoding report numbers, committee numbers, resolution numbers, message numbers, consent calendars, daily calendars, and supplemental calendars. I’m surfing the resolution ride: discharge, refer back, adopt, amend, reconsider, call the question, divide the question, divide the resolution, etc.

I’m gaining appreciation for the deep engagement of all who are working so diligently to find creative ways to look critically and pastorally at how we as Episcopalians do church. And I’m filling with hope and love as I participate in this drama unfolding as we struggle to renew and rebuild our faith community.

There’s little time for food, especially when I heed my mother’s warning “not to swim for at least a half-hour after eating.” My main meal is the spiritual nourishment I receive at the daily Holy Eucharist. The water here is deeper than I’ve ever swam in before. We must be feeding more than 1000. And the temperature here is hotter than I’ve ever been in, reaching 115º the other day.

The temperature in debate on the other hand moves up and down between fiercely passionate on hot-button issues like Open-Table, Confirmation, and Same-Gender Blessings to tepid when the amendments to the amendments begin. But I’ve not touched icy waters, yet. Sometimes, unpredictable weather conditions turn calm seas into turbulent waters over a topic such as—the Bible!

When there is a brief free moment, I don’t go sun-bathing! I swim laps around the exhibit hall, float in the Ecclesiastical Art Exhibition, or tread water in the passage-way hawking postcards, crying out “Fredrica for Executive Council!”

Drying off a bit to share a meal with friends and colleagues ensures the energy boost to dive back in! Beribboned name tags adorning the necks of all GC swimmers serve as navigational aids.

The General Convention waters are deep and brimming with life but beware of submerged obstacles, unknown hazards, and a bit of flotsam - jetsam. My lifeline is prayer and worship, helpful people, the droid phone, lots of planning and my orange journal. Do the Episcopal Church’s General Convention waters look inviting to you? Come on in. The water is fine!

Susan Taylor is a postulant in the diocese of Vermont in her third year of her MDiv program at Episcopal Divinity School. An artist and hiker, Taylor is married with two children and lives in Western Massachusetts when not on campus. You can find her blog at  http://hikingwithhope.blogspot.com/.

Young Adults...where do we belong? #gc77

By Meg Johnson

As I have mentioned before, I struggled with figuring out what my role here at General Convention is. I have figured that out. However, I am beginning to wonder where young adults really fit it at GC. It seems to me that we all get lumped together when, in reality, we play very different roles and have vastly different obligations.

There is the Official Youth Presence that has seat and voice in the HOD, but no vote. There are 18 of them, ages 16-19 and there presence at the GC thus far as been powerful. I have heard many of them speak up for their passions and fighting for the future vision of the Church.

There is also our group, which is the Young Adult Initiative with Episcopal Peace Fellowship. We strive to advocate for peace and justice issues that we feel strongly about. We work towards testifying to any resolution that inspires us to give it a voice. We vehemently follow and track resolutions. We share our work and our reflections through every moment of GC through social media.

There is also the Young Adult Festival that is focused more on ministry during the GC and simply observing and learning more about GC in general.

With all these different groups that include Youth or Young Adult in the their names, I can see how it could become confusing and convoluted to keep track of work of the young adults at GC. However, an effort could be made by all at GC to know all the different groups and what each of their roles are here at GC.

This is an exciting GC because of all the discussion centered on including more young adults or ensuring that they are better represented. This is a step forward. But I cannot stop thinking that if everyone’s, and I mean everyone’s, mindsets about young adults doesn’t change, than we’ll all be in big trouble. Older generations need to view us as equals and realize the fact that though we may not have the experience, we tend to be folks that have a whole lot of vision and a lot of passion to see that vision brought forth to life. I find that quite exciting—especially in our time of desperate need for renewed visions.

Young adults themselves also need to change their mindset about themselves. We need to accept that we may not be treated as equals, but that we will not give up efforts to assert ourselves in a way that persuades others to see us equals. We also need to believe in ourselves. It is easy to say to ourselves that we don’t have experience and that our opinions don’t matter. Or we use our age as an excuse to not be involved or not speak up.

If we ourselves do not begin to see ourselves as equals and assert ourselves as equals, than no one else will begin to treat us like equals. It is true that we all have work to do if we want to be taken seriously, but it begins with the young adults. I know it is easy to give up. It is hard to keep going when you finally are courageous enough to speak up and then you feel like no one is listening or taking you seriously. This is the easy way out though. We must continue to raise up and make ourselves known because one of these days they are going to notice us and one of these days, they are going to realize what they’ve been missing out on for so long—our joy, energy, enthusiasm, and most importantly, our valid voice of vision and hope.

This blog post was reprinted with permission from the author and from the Episcopal Peace Fellowship Young Adult Initiative at General Convention 2012 blog.

Meg Johnson is a 2012 graduate of St. Catherine University in education and french. She is originally from Green Bay, Wisconsin and currently lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Beginning this fall she will work as an english teacher in Rennes, France. She is part of the Young Adult Initiative with Episcopal Peace Fellowship at the General Convention of the Episcopal Church.

Transformational Hour

By Pat Hoffman

You speak in my heart and say, “Seek my face.”

Your face, Lord, will I seek

You have been my helper;

Cast me not away; do not forsake me,

O God of my salvation.

Though my father and mother forsake me,

The Lord will sustain me.

(Psalm 27:8-10)

I open myself to wherever I am taken in this hour that I do not clock, and do not care if it becomes 80 minutes or more. I’m out of chronos time for a little while.

The entrance hymn begins. I turn and watch the approach of the acolytes carrying the cross, the candles, and waving banners. I hear the strong voices of choir members passing by and see and hear our pastoral leaders singing their way into the sanctuary. My whole self is caught up in the symbolic drama enacted down that aisle every Sunday. I often cannot sing the entire hymn because of tears.

During my first year at All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena, California, I took the Collect for Purity home and memorized it. I felt there was something in it that I needed.

“Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name; through Christ our Lord.”

When my husband Cecil and I had moved to Pasadena in 2008 we were familiar with All Saints Church and I was drawn to join this church by the uniquely inclusive congregation and by the worship, which moved me in ways I did not understand. I only knew it met a deep inner need. On Sunday mornings at All Saints I experienced resting in God, who saw my open heart and the secret desires held there; who knew them in a way I did not yet know them. My heart told me I needed this place where I could relinquish control and let myself be carried into sacred space.

On a recent Sunday, speaking with Cecil about my experience over three years now at the church, I heard myself saying that during worship I was able to feel vulnerable. Vulnerable.

It was as though God had let me know the secret God had seen in my heart all along: my deep longing to be able to trust others, and to trust that God was there, and would be there in the multitude of ways God becomes present.

Family dysfunctions during childhood can rob us of the gift of vulnerability, the gift that we can trust others to care for us as children, and that we can trust that the grown-ups will take care of themselves. Growing up trusting grown-ups is a way we learn to trust God. I missed that.

By the age of ten, it was fixed in my mind that I should trust only in myself. Others might help, but I couldn’t depend on them. These childhood ways of coping get set and years later, when all the people those coping strategies were about are gone, the strategies may continue.

God heard as I prayed the Collect each Sunday and God knew I desired to let go of the anxiety of trying to cover all the bases and plan ahead for every exigency.

I love kneeling at the rail, holding out my hands to receive the bread. It is a bodily act of vulnerability. Every week I get to practice trust before God and others. Kneeling, I hold out my hands and the portion I need is given to me. And during this act, hundreds of voices carry my spirit, just as my voice helps carry the spirit of others as they go to the rail.

God meets us as we are, complicated human beings with complex brains. I may need to kneel with hands out and receive the bread a thousand times before all those old brain connections turn off and new ones are made. I may need a thousand times of passing the peace before my whole self knows that when all those pew-mates turn to take my hand or give me an embrace I’m truly offered God’s peace in their presence. My practice is to receive it. Every future exigency is not in my hands alone.

Sometimes tears fill my eyes as we pray the post-communion prayer: “…you have fed us with spiritual food…Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage…through Christ our Lord.” I feel fed and cared for and, with Christ’s help, prepared to take the shelter of the sanctuary with me in my heart for another week of seeking God’s presence in the world, and bringing it.

* Pat Hoffman has written books and articles on the church's need to be with the marginalized in movements toward justice. For permission to reprint, contact her at pathoffman.com.

Binocular Religious Wisdom: Learning from Multiple Religious Participation

By John J. Thatamanil

I am a Christian theologian who loves Buddhism.

Unlike some who turn to Buddhism because of trauma from a toxic or inadequate version of Christianity, my love for Buddhism is not a product of alienation. My religious family of origin is not ideal—no family is—but my first Christian home, the Mar Thoma Church, and now the Episcopal Church, have done right by me. They both convey to me a progressive, justice-seeking, and reflective Christianity, one that never demands that I sacrifice intellect in order to embrace faith.

So why the fascination with Buddhism?

I am drawn to Buddhist traditions not to correct felt deficits in my own tradition, but to deepen my experience of the world by entering into another way of understanding and living. I seek a new kind of wisdom that our age requires.

In an older era, a person was accounted wise if he or she attained to a practical mastery of one tradition. Think St. Francis of Assisi. But our age requires also (not instead of) a new kind of wisdom: the capacity to see the world through more than one set of religious lenses and to integrate into one life, insofar as possible, what is disclosed through those lenses. Think Mahatma Gandhi. His theory and practice of nonviolent resistance integrated ideas and practices drawn from Jainism, Christianity (Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in particular), and, of course, Hinduism.

For lack of a better phrase, I call this binocular wisdom, an extension from binocular vision, vision generated by both eyes, the only kind that yields depth perspective.

We need the depth perspective of binocular wisdom for many reasons. First, increasingly many among us incorporate into our lives religious practices drawn from more than one tradition. Christians who do vipassana meditation or yoga are increasingly the norm. What is less common is reflection about the meaning of multiple religious participation. Few ask how, for example, the Buddhist wisdom that drives vipassana and Christian wisdom enacted in the Eucharist might be held together.

We also need this kind of wisdom because interfaith marriages are becoming routine. A great temptation here is to downplay religious matters for fear of conflict. Or, the most insistent parent is permitted to win: all right, the kids can go to church and not synagogue. But what about the possibility of thinking about this kind of double life as a source of promise and not a divisive problem? We need binocular wisdom to pull this off.

And, of course, we also need binocular wisdom to address the vast global crises of our time such as the growing gap worldwide between the rich and the poor and ecological problems that no tradition can navigate alone. Christian teaching about the natural world as God’s good creation when taken together with the Buddhist quest to end self-seeking desire promises more than either tradition can offer alone.

How might such wisdom and integration work?

Let’s begin with a small example: “Life hurts.” That is my working, albeit non-standard, translation of the Pali phrase sabbham dukkham, the First of the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths, which is customarily translated, “All is suffering.” The latter is the more accurate translation, literally speaking, although it suggests that neither pleasure, satisfaction, nor contentment is possible in life. That is a manifestly mistaken reading of Buddhist wisdom. One need only spend a few minutes around Tibetan Buddhist monks or enter a vast lecture hall in which the Dalai Lama is speaking to feel in one’s bones the profound joy that marks the lives of advanced practitioners.

So, what does the First Noble Truth show me as it is lived out in practice?

To say that life hurts is to name a truth that most of us spend every waking moment avoiding. Through mindfulness practice which, counter-intuitively, is the practice of leaning into life’s hurts rather than running away from them, I am coming to see daily just how much time I spend in futile attempts to evade regular visitations of pain. The memory of a lost love, the sudden intrusion into mind of some personal failing, the nagging anxiety of the undone task —mindfulness practice helps me to recognize and abandon my unrealistic quest either to avoid or to anesthetize myself from these jabs of hurt that visit me, often many times a minute.

By holding my aversion to pain in gentle, compassionate, and attentive regard — another way to understand mindfulness — I gain a measure of liberation (the standard translation of “nirvana”) from the conditioned, even addictive patterns that drive my behavior. Still more, the practice of compassionate regard is happily addictive, and it bleeds over into my disposition toward others. I am reminded that others too are making their way through twinges, jabs, and outright blows of suffering. The irritations, failings, and even the flat out nastiness of others are not about me but the disturbing fruit of unaddressed hurt.

What does this practice mean for my Christian life? As my own vipassana teacher, Gordon Peerman, an Episcopal priest who is also an advanced Buddhist practitioner, loves to say, “Buddhist practice enables me to operationalize the Christian calling to love my neighbor.” That sounds exactly right to me because it is confirmed in my experience.

I am no saint. But I am now somewhat less prone to irritation when my tween daughter insists on winning an argument. That is no advanced accomplishment on the road to mystic vision, but it is a lovely gift on the way toward a gentler life, a life that is all the more Christian for being Buddhist.

* John J. Thatamanil is currently Assistant Professor of Theology at Vanderbilt Divinity School. This Summer, he will move to Union Theological Seminary as Associate Professor of Theology and World Religions. He is the author of The Immanent Divine: God, Creation, and the Human Predicament (Fortress, 2006).

What we can learn from Afro-Anglican churches

By Charles A. Wynder, Jr.

February 13 is the feast day of Absalom Jones, the first Black priest in the Episcopal Church.* This celebration of Absalom Jones’ life and ministry provides an opportunity for Black Episcopalians to reflect upon the mission, ministry, and leadership of Black congregations in the Episcopal Church. In fact, such Afro-Anglican congregations can teach the wider Episcopal Church how to relate to an increasingly diverse African Anglican Communion in the world.

Predominantly Black congregations in the Episcopal Church survive as a legacy of Absalom Jones. Much like other congregations in the Episcopal Church, these parishes face the challenges and opportunities of a changing world. They must discern their mission and ministry for the 21st century.

The Black presence in the Episcopal Church is truly Afro-Anglican. It is composed of African Americans, Afro-Caribbean, and Africans. This multicultural body of Afro-Anglicans represents a minority of congregations, clergy, and laity inside an overwhelmingly white denomination.

This body mirrors an increasing diversity within the Black community of the United States. Large cities in various parts of the country have an increasingly diverse population of people of African descent. The meaning of Blackness in the United States continues to evolve based on the multiple voices and experiences within communities of African descent. Grappling with issues of identity among diverse people can be particularly challenging. The Afro-Anglican presence in the Episcopal Church is a place for us to discern a way forward.

These congregations bring together people of different histories, cultures, languages, and ideas about governance and worship. They co-locate people with a postcolonial perspective (for example, from Africa, Central America, and the Caribbean) along with people descended from American slavery. How do these people come together to serve God and engage God’s mission?

It is not an easy proposition. It requires this diverse body of God’s people to move to a place of valuing each other. Mutual respect of the multiple histories and cultures can facilitate new understanding among the various communities within the congregations. Looking for and listening to the different voices in the congregation enhance understanding. It is in hearing the multiple voices with different accents and sounds anew that we are able engage in rich dialogue. The dialogue about the mission of God should not, however, take place in one tongue.

A house of prayer for all peoples requires us to fully solicit and embrace the full range of experience, voice, and perspective in the congregation. This process equips Afro-Anglican congregations to understand the multiple centers of power, culture, and meaning within the church. The Afro-Anglican body by definition has more than one culture and understanding of knowing and being.

Effective exercised leadership that is shared by clergy and the laity is not threatened by the multiple voices, power centers, and cultural background. Such leadership builds relationships and engages in dialogue to further understanding, peace, and reconciliation where needed. This type of relational ministry can serve to build up the capacity of congregations to look outside of themselves and embrace the surrounding communities.

Developing the inner capacity and desire to turn outward is key to engaging God’s mission. This is where the discernment of these churches must turn. What is God calling these Afro-Anglican congregations to do in the world? How can they meet the needs of the people in the neighborhood? What type of ministries must they develop to meet the needs of the people in their largely urban context?

Exploring these questions is part of the essential discernment of the vocation of a parish. To envision the mission, leadership, and ministry of Afro-Anglican parishes would be a gift to the larger Episcopal Church. Imagine the possibilities of the Afro-Anglican community in the United States guiding Episcopal Church in discerning in mission, ministry, and leadership in a diverse and largely African Anglican Communion. Let us learn from one another and grow together.

Charles A. Wynder, Jr. is a second year MDiv student at the Episcopal Divinity School.

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* Absalom Jones, the first Black priest in the Episcopal Church, participated in establishing St. Thomas African Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. The admission of St. Thomas into the Episcopal Church in 1794 and Jones’ ordination provided a semi-autonomous space and place for Black Episcopalians.

“Be not afraid” – is our role business or faith?

By Elizabeth Magill

Jesus said to us “be not afraid” and yet we are afraid. We, in religious communities, are afraid that we will run out of money, run out of people, run out of energy. If our focus was on formation, not on maintaining the status quo, I believe we would be less afraid.

What would be different now if our vestries had led us in an exploration of the needs of the local community? What would we have learned if we had our time meeting, loving, welcoming, and addressing the needs of our neighbors?

Jesus said to us to take care of those who are hungry, thirsty, alone, without clothes, ill, or in prison. If our focus was on God’s mission, not on maintaining the status quo, I believe we would be known in our communities as places that show God’s love.

I mused afresh on all of this after reading an article by Tom Ehrich of Morning Walk Media , proposing that the time for "business as usual" in Episcopal parishes is over. Writing in The Vestry Papers, a web newsletter (www.ecfvp.org) produced by the Episcopal Church Foundation, Ehrich writes that historically vestries have failed to note the way that markets have changed, and, have failed to change with society.

Ehrich's marketing advice is sound but my response is radically different. He suggests that:

Many vestry members start out with three assumptions:

-Their job is to run the congregation

-Their goal is to keep longtime members happy

-From work and home, they already have the skills they need to do vestry work.

None of these assumptions is accurate. And our own history proves it.

Unlike Ehrich, I don’t think that marketing is our biggest mistake.

Imagine if, 40 years ago, or now, our vestries declared that the work of the church is to form Christians. Imagine if we were trying to learn how to reach out to those in need, to stand up for the oppressed, and to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ in the world. Imagine if we anticipated change, and vestries focused on helping us to prepare for that change?

What would be different now if our vestries had engaged in formation, and set up similar opportunities for the congregation? What would we have learned if we had spent years struggling to understand God's call to us each as individuals, and God's call to our congregation as a community?

Our individual churches are anxious about buildings, church attendance, and budgets. Our vestries are trying to run a business and think that our clients are the members of the church. Like Ehrich, I have a list of different jobs for the vestry.

-Vestries need to stop running churches, and begin listening for, and helping to implement, God's mission in the world.

-Vestries need to take risks and make a radical commitment to change steeped in what they learn about God through the work of formation, and in what they learn about communities in the work of outreach.

-Vestries need to discern their spiritual gifts, and to help members find theirs, and engage in training to use those gifts. The vestry should ensure that the whole community is engaged in ministry, learning to listen for God, and learning to follow God's path.

I don't actually know if following God's path would mean that the Episcopal Church, or any other denomination, would be larger in numbers than we are today. But I believe we'd be deeper in faith.

I believe that we would see the few fishes and loaves of bread in front of us as opportunities for mission instead of as a shortage of supplies. The work of the vestry isn’t keeping the Church going, but rather keeping the people of God heading toward God's reign.

We cannot do that by ignoring a changing world, or by keeping existing members happy. There is nothing wrong with good business practice, but the real work of the church is not business, but faith. We need to look inward, at who we are as a Christian community, and by looking outward, attend to the needs of those at the edges of society.

* The Reverend Elizabeth M Magill, Episcopal Divinity School staff, manages EDSConnect, the continuing education program for Episcopal Divinity School. Liz teaches Theology of Ministry in Small Churches, Evangelism for Liberation, and Developing Spiritual Communities. She is the author of Seeing God in Diversity: Exodus and Acts with Dr Angela Bauer-Levesque.