That We All May Be One

“For you, O God, have heard my vows; you have granted me the heritage of those who fear your Name.” Psalm 61:5

“For God alone my soul in silence waits; from him comes my salvation.” (Psalm 62:1)

Praying with those lines from today’s psalms, I could not help but be reminded of St. Ignatius of Loyola whom we also remember today. This founder of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits) and author of “The Spiritual Exercises” knew what it meant to live the “vowed” life and to “wait in silence” for God. Anyone who has made an Ignatian retreat, using the Exercises, will know too how powerful such “waiting” can be.

Ecumenically, I have worked with a number of Jesuits over the years and, I must say, like with most rabbis I have met, I have rarely failed to be impressed with their intellect and their faithfulness. Indeed, a “society of Christian rabbis” is not a bad way to characterize the Jesuits! Their theological contributions are legion. 

“O God, by whose grace your servant Ignatius of Loyola, kindled with the flame of your love, became a burning and shining light in your Church: Grant that we also may be aflame with the spirit of love and discipline, and walk before you as children of light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.” (Book of Common Prayer, page 249)

I have always thought how appropriate it is that one of the canticles (“little songs”) appointed for our morning prayers on Saturdays is “A Song of Creation: Song of the Three Young Men.” These are verses which appear now in the Apocrypha as a poem ascribed to Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego as they remained unscathed in the “burning, fiery furnace” in the Book of Daniel.

Whether they were originally part of the Hebrew text or a later Greek addition continues to be debated. But there is no doubt that the early Jews did indeed compose many such poems, and the celebration of the created order draws heavily on Psalm 148 and yet has a strikingly contemporary message.

It begins “Glorify the Lord, all you works of the Lord, praise him and highly exalt him for ever.” The poem then celebrates the cosmic order, “Glorify the Lord, you angels and all powers of the Lord…heavens and all waters above the heavens…sun and moon and stars of the sky…winter and summer, glorify the Lord…O chill and cold, drops of dew and flakes of snow…glorify the Lord.”

The next secions exalts in the earth and all its creatures, “Glorify the Lord, O mountains and hills and all that grows upon the earth…springs of water, seas and streams…all birds of the air…Glorify the Lord, O beasts of the wild and all you flocks and herds…” And then, almost unexpectedly, “O men and women everywhere, glorify the Lord, praise him and highly exalt him for ever!”

At one and the same moment the poem connects humankind to the rest of the earth and its creatures, and yet also places us at the pinnacle of God’s created order, thus dignifying human nature. The third section hymns the people of God, “…priests and servants of the Lord…spirits and souls of the righteous…you that are holy and humble of heart, glorify the Lord, praise him and highly exalt him for ever.”

I love praying these words on Saturdays (and the Jewish Sabbath) because it connects me in gratitude to the whole created order, appreciating it as God surely did when “resting” on that first “seventh day.” That is certainly part of what sabbath time is supposed to do. On Saturdays…on the weekends…and certainly during summer holidays!

“In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord, praise him and highly exalt him for ever!”                    

Observing Mary Magdalene’s feast the other day and St. James today, while on vacation, reminds me of how important the “sanctification of time” is. Our “three score and ten years” (perhaps, in strength, even eighty!) pass away quickly enough.  It is important to appreciate each day, each week, each passing of the seasons.

I believe the Bible’s commandment that we set aside one day out of seven for rest and recreation, to step back from our work and remember that are not defined by it is absolutely essential. If we do not observe such a rhythm naturally, we may try to create it — and the peace and serenity it provides — artificially perhaps with drugs or alcohol or casual sex or whatever. If we deny our need for sabbath time, we will get sick.

Similarly, the “summer holidays” (or whenever we take some time off) are important as well. I shall be making entries on this little blog periodically, as it seems appropriate and fits into my more restful mode. But, if I miss a few days, just know that it’s because I’m on “holiday” (which term, by the way, I much prefer over the American “vacation.” For these are not empty, vacant, or vacated days — they are “holy” days!)       

In both the story of Moses and the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-12) and the account of Jesus’ prayer thanking his Father who has “hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealing them to infants” (Matthew 11:25-27) we have examples of what theologians call both the “transcendence” and the “immanence” of God.

The awesome reality and the “otherness” of God which we call “transcendence” is described in the first of our 39 Articles of Religion in the Book of Common Prayer: “There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom and goodness; the Maker and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible.” (BCP 867)

This was the initial experience of Moses near Mount Horeb when he heard God call from the burning bush “Moses, Moses…Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” It was also Jesus’ experience who begins his prayer, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth…”

We do ourselves no favor, as believers, if we ignore or trivialize this “transcendent” reality we call God. God is not our “buddy.” God is the Source of all that is! In this God – and only in this God — we “live and move and have our being.” We exist solely because God’s love and grace allows us to “be!” 

And yet, that’s not all the story! Not all of the truth about God. Because, as Moses stands – sandal-less – in the presence of this awesome God, he also hears these words, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob…I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry…I know their suffering, and I have come down to deliver them…”

And the occasion of Jesus’ prayer to his “Father (who is) Lord of heaven and earth” is to offer thanks because “you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants…for such was your gracious will.” Never one to domesticate or trivialize God the Father, Jesus was also adamant that God had to be available and accessible to the youngest and simplest among us…to the last and the least. “Knowledge of God,” and the healing and liberation that come with it cannot be reserved only for scholars and priests – but must be available to all!   

This “immanence,” this presence and availability and inward experience, of God is what Jesus celebrating in his prayer. But it cannot be separated from God’s transcendence. Both must be held together, in some kind of creative tension.  That should come as no surprise to Christians like us – who confess Jesus Christ as human and divine, receive Sacraments which are both outward and visible and inward and spiritual, and Christians like us who are both saints and sinners!

Paradoxes like these lie at the heart of Christianity. And in the heart of God – who is both transcendent and immanent…at the same time!

In response to the July 10 release from the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith response to some questions regarding certain aspects of the Doctrine of the Church, I’m not quite sure what all the fuss is.

This doesn’t change anything for us, and is certainly nothing new for the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XVI obviously wants to clarify the way he understands the teaching of the Second Vatican Council on a number of matters. We have disagreed with our Roman Catholic colleagues since 1896 about Pope Leo XIII’s declaration of the nullity of Anglican Orders and continue to do so today.

We believe that our Orders are valid and that we are a “church” in every sense of the word. None of these disagreements, however, will lessen our commitment to remain in international and national ecumenical dialogue with the Roman Catholic Church which has been productively held for more than forty years.

And we look forward to what should be a very interesting Anglican – Roman Catholic (ARC-USA) dialogue in Washington, DC next October!

Yesterday, a colleague and I spent most of the day in a meeting of Christians and Jews at the headquarters of the American Jewish Committee here in New York. That may explain why one of our readings today (Genesis 32:22-32) jumped out at me today. Surely “good news” is to be found throughout the pages of Scripture and not only in the four Gospels!

In the midst of the Genesis account of the reconciliation process between Jacob and Esau (Isaac’s sons with all their complicated history) Jacob meets a man and engages in a wrestling match with him. As the story unfolds it is clear that this is no ordinary man but – at the very least – an angel of God and, more probably, God himself: appearing in human form.

The first hint of that is the plea to break off the match because “the day is breaking.” Hebrew thought was clear that no one could look upon the face of God and live, so Jacob’s merciful adversary wanted to leave before the sun rose to reveal him in full light. But Jacob will have none of that, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

And the form that the blessing takes is the awarding of a new name. How many times in Scripture the taking of a new name marks the beginning of a new stage in life or a new ministry of some kind! “Your name shall no more be called Jacob (the “Supplanter”… of Esau) but “Israel” which is alternatively translated “God rules” or “He who strives with God!” (And with men!)

How rich it is for the Jewish people to be identified as those who “strive with God…and with other people!” In their long history of being called, being faithful, being disobedient, being exiled, returning home, being persecuted yet always mindful of their “chosen-ness” the descendents of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob (now Israel!) have developed a certain intimacy and a certain ease with God!

Rabbis have no difficulty arguing with each other, arguing with the biblical text itself, and even arguing with God! Remember Tevya in “Fiddler on the Roof” and his wonderful, honest relationship and conversations with God! Not unlike Jacob who says, “I will not let you go unless you bless me!”

Yet this “striving with God” is not without its price. Jacob is wounded in the struggle and limps away from the encounter claiming to have seen God face to face and lived. Yet, the sun rises as he passes Penuel, making it clear that he has seen God only in the pre-dawn light.

What are the lessons for us in this fascinating and ancient story? Two things at least. The first is that it’s OK to wrestle with God. The spiritual life is not always rosy or a straight path to God. Like the people of Israel, we are called, sometimes faithful, sometimes disobedient, sometimes experience persecution and exile, but are always invited to return home.

Secondly, God can sometimes be found in our adversaries!  People we find most difficult to understand or to like or to agree with may actually be where we meet God. But that requires staying in the struggle. That means we cannot “walk away from the table.” If we are to receive the blessing of God, it may mean that we need to look for that blessing in the midst of the struggle, be willing to wounded in the struggle, but always be prepared to meet God face to face in that struggle.

If only in the pre-dawn light!    

So, the Episcopal priest who considers herself both Christian and Muslim has now received a pastoral directive from her bishop to “take a year  off” from her responsibilities and duties as a priest, to think and pray through the spiritual journey she is on, with an eye toward achieving some clarity about where she wants to come down with respect to some of the mutually exclusive claims of Christianity and Islam.

It is my understanding that she was willing, all along, to submit to whatever discipline those in authority over her in the church decided and that both she and her bishop agreed to the terms of the directive as well as staying in touch regularly over the next months. Altogether, it seems to me, a thoroughly pastoral Anglican approach — sensible, compassionate, but clear.

For those who continue to believe that there are no limits or boundaries in the Episcopal Church these days, perhaps this will prove instructive. Bishops, Standing Committees, clergy and lay leaders make these kind of pastoral and disciplinary discision every week, usually quietly, patiently, and without fanfare. The “doctrine, discipline, and worship” of  the Episcopal Church is summarized in  the Creeds,  codified in the Canons, and  set out for all to see in  the Book of  Common  Prayer.

May those of us who have chosen to live out our Christian commmitment within the broad comprehensiveness, the “generous orthodoxy” of the Episcopal Church recognize that, just as in any family, there are norms, expectations, and limits which define that common life. And may we always have the grace to honor those so that “we all may be one.”