Statement on Sandy Hook

It has been one sorrow-filled week since shots rang out in Sandy Hook Elementary School leaving twenty children and six adults dead. In that week, the mourning of a community has been omnipresent in our news as a nation tries to find a way to respond. 

Our president has called for meaningful action and has tasked the vice president to lead that work. And today, the NRA, through its vice president, has called for an armed policeman in every school. To quote: “The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.”

Fewer statements underscore the limited thinking and blind devotion to tools made to kill. I wonder what will be the spiritual and psychic cost to a whole generation raised in armed schools. What will happen next? Demented assailants with bullet proof vests followed by a shootout between “bad guys” and “good guys?” Who will fall in the cross fire? Who will be blamed then?  

As followers of the Prince of Peace, we must reject calls for escalation and greater weaponry. We are called to a different mind, the mind of Christ, and to articulate a different vision for the human family: "They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more," (Micah 4:3).

In his book, Rediscovering Values: On Wall Street, Main Street, and Your Street, Jim Wallis tells of his experience attending the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland in 2008, where the media’s relentless question at daily press conferences was “when will this end?” When will the economic turmoil and the instability end? Wallis, when asked this question, responded that we were asking and answering the wrong question. He suggested that we should ask, “How will we be changed by this?” As we ponder what to do in the wake of a national tragedy that has shaken us to the core, we should ask this same question, “How will we be changed by this?”

We should go to our scriptures, which call us to disarm rather than re-arm. We should go to our values, which move us to seek understanding. We should be a people of forgiveness, which always means giving up something. The families of Sandy Hook have given up way too much. Can we give up a culture that promotes and glorifies violence? Can we give up Rambo, Bourne, and such? Can we please give up our guns? Let us beat our swords into ploughshares and our spears into pruning-hooks. Let us be changed by this in a way that brings the peaceable kingdom closer.

Excommunication of Truth

In an online story published by The Wall Street Journal, titled “Twenty-first Century Excommunication,” and accompanied by a video interview of the reporter, Mollie Ziegler Hemingway, the recent property disputes of The Episcopal Church were grossly mischaracterized. I have served as the Episcopal bishop of San Diego for almost seven years, and in that capacity dealt with three congregations in which the ordained leaders and their followers attempted to leave the Episcopal Church with parish property. In these dealings, I was threatened with death and told I will go to hell by those who claim to love Jesus more than I do. Other colleagues have had similar experiences, from death threats to being spit at during church services. Ms. Hemingway would have you believe that the animus we have received is about scriptural interpretation, but make no mistake: this is about power.

To fully understand this situation, it is important to grasp the canonical (i.e. legal) structure of The Episcopal Church. Parishes are creations of the diocese in which they are situated, in some cases deriving their tax exempt status because they are an irrevocable part of the diocese. As a condition of ordination, clergy vow obedience to their bishop. Congregations begin as mission churches under the direct supervision and financial support of the bishop with property held by the diocese. When such a church becomes a parish, by vote of diocesan legislature, the congregation pledges to be subordinate to the constitution and canons of the Episcopal Church as well as the constitution and canons of the diocese. After becoming a parish, they may incorporate under the religious incorporation statutes of the state in which the congregation is situated. The diocese will usually transfer title to real property to the parish at that time to be held in trust for The Episcopal Church.

When individuals purported to alienate property which had be given to The Episcopal Church, I was bound by my fiduciary role as a bishop to prevent that from happening. Because The Episcopal Church, like so many others, follows state laws of incorporation, I had no alternative but to file suit in civil court to remedy the matter. This is analogous to a landlord finally going to civil court to gain relief from a non-paying renter or an owner using legal means to deal with a squatter. Thus, those leaving The Episcopal Church were catalysts of these law suits by breaking their solemn vows and by attempting to seize property they had no right to possess.

What is particularly regrettable about Ms. Hemingway’s piece is confusion about the relationship between The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, which is easily remedied with a simple visit to the Anglican Communion’s official website, http://www.anglicancommunion.org/acp/index.cfm?year=2011&month=7&day=17 . There you will find every diocese of The Episcopal Church in their cycle of prayer; you will not find The Anglican Church in North American on that list. This is not to say they do not need our prayers. It is simply an indicator of who is an Anglican and who has merely appropriated the label. You will not find Missouri Synod Lutherans there either. Thus, The Episcopal Church remains a constituent member of the Anglican Communion. Despite Ms. Hemingway’s interpretations, our leader (called a primate), the Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, is a participant in the Meeting of Primates of the Anglican Communion; Robert Duncan, the leader of the breakaway Anglican Church in North America, is not. At our last House of Bishops meeting, a gathering of all bishops of The Episcopal Church, we were visited by the primates of Japan and Central Africa. Like an eclectic extended family, we have our differences, but we regularly gather together.

Ms. Hemingway suggests that The Episcopal Church is depriving these departing Episcopalians of a relationship to Anglican bishops and foreign dioceses. Oddly, these individuals claim to desire a relationship with a bishop of their own choosing. But bishops are those who by definition maintain order and oversight over the church. To put it in historical terms, this is rather like choosing to succeed from the nation when the current leadership is not to your liking. Thus, when the presiding bishop of The Episcopal Church urges her colleagues not to provide aid and comfort to those who would undermine our church, she has history on her side.

In the final analysis, no one has been excommunicated; rather some individuals have left our church. On their way out, they have tried to take what does not belong to them and, in an unimaginative attempt to cover their unseemly behavior, they have pointed the finger at their victim, The Episcopal Church. The Wall Street Journal and Ms. Hemingway have either been duped or shown a stunning lack of care in reporting. The only thing in this story that has been excommunicated is the truth.

On the Ecuadoran Frontier

The House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church is meeting in Quito Ecuador, which has given us an opportunity to become more familar with the social issues of the region. For Ecuador, one of the vexing problems is dealing with refugees from Colombia. While the U.S. makes war on drugs, average Columbian citizans are caught between paramilitary groups and guerillas. As many flee for their lives, Ecuador finds itself dealing with the largest refugee population in Latin America.

The good news is that The Episcopal Church is working to make a difference. The Dioceses of Columbia and Ecuador Central are working together to provide transitional ministries to displaced persons. On Saturday, a group of bishops learned about this joint ministry, prayed together for this work on the border (see photo below), and gave financial support.

Those of us who live in the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego know something about borders and displacement. As a community that strives to transcend borders, we do well to be aware of what is happening on this border. This fledgling ministry deserves our prayers and support.

Episcopal News Service story:
http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79425_128774_ENG_HTM.htm

Something New Breaks Open

Wednesday in Holy Week

In the midst of this Holy Week, we fully grapple with the enormity of the sacrifice of Jesus as he moved from a parade of palms to the pain of the passion. We are reminded once again that God is not remote and distant from us, but through Christ, enters our lives filled as they are with both sorrow and joy.

In the season of Easter that is upon us, we make an awesome claim that God who relentlessly pursues us in love will not abandon us. We are not left to sin and evil; we are not left to death. The miracle of the empty tomb is a promise of life. Between Good Friday and Easter, something happens to Jesus. Between Good Friday and Easter, something should likewise happen to us. We too are to be changed.

And so as the Easter light breaks, something new should break open in us. There is a new future for the world for which Christ died. The late William Sloan Coffin once said in a sermon,

Christ is risen to convert us, not from life to something more than life, but from something less than life to the possibility of full life itself. Christ’s resurrection promises to put love in our hearts, decent thoughts in our heads, and a little bit more iron in our spines.

In these Great Fifty Days of Easter may you live into our Easter love, have the mind that was in Christ Jesus, and be a courageous Church that dares to follow Jesus Christ in his life of fearless love for the world.

God’s blessing be upon you.

Land of the Rising Sun

As we see the pictures of devastation wrought by earthquake, fire and tsunami, our hearts ache for the people of Japan. It remains to be seen the full impact of this catastrophe but it appears to be immense.

I ask you to hold the people of Japan as well as all others affected by this disaster in your prayers. Knowing that financial assistance will be needed I also ask you to make a gift to Episcopal Relief and Development so that our church can respond as Jesus would have us do — as good Samaritans.

Help Japan Here

Japan is a beautiful and resilient country whose gracious hospitality I have been privileged to enjoy. It is often referred to as the land of the rising sun. May God touch this part of God’s creation with a spirit of new life so that out of the ashes may rise new life and new hope.

March Message

Dear Sisters and Brothers,

I want to begin by thanking you for your presence and participation at our 37th Diocesan Convention. I was amazed at the speed with which we attended to necessary business and the general spirit of the event. I am particularly grateful to Dean Richardson for his convention sermon and Diana Butler Bass for her keynote address on Friday and workshop on Saturday morning.

At this Convention, we did important work in moving forward our Strategic Planning process and tested a draft mission and vision statement:

Mission: The Episcopal Diocese of San Diego: a missionary community that dares to follow Jesus Christ in his life of fearless love for the world.

Vision: Undeterred by borders or barriers, we are pilgrims with Jesus in relentlessly searching for others to know, to befriend, and to invite them to Christ's Eucharistic table of reconciliation and sacrificial love.

The initial input from our table conversations on Saturday was positive albeit with helpful suggestions. One comment that caught my attention was that these statements of purpose and direction lacked specificity. It was with that rumbling in my mind that I received an email from Simon Mainwaring, rector of St. Andrew's with the subject head, "so you know people do listen to your address," sharing with me his blog entry for Valentine's Day.

Simon tells his response to our vision statement and "taking the Church beyond the border" in his blog, "Simon Mainwaring PB." Simon tells of his experience in being vulnerable by taking a handful of Valentine cards and walking the streets of Pacific Beach greeting absolute strangers and wishing them a Happy Valentine's Day. Thank you Simon, for helping me respond to the critique that our Mission and Vision are without specifics.

The specifics of Mission and Vision will in the end be found in the intersecting of the Holy Spirit, our imagination and the liminal places that are a whole host of borders around us.

In a world where buildings fall in earthquakes, congressional representatives become targets for assassination, and dictators cling to power with bullets and blood, we can feel powerless and fearful. To follow Jesus is to dare. To follow Jesus is to be fearless. To follow Jesus is to study our spiritual and cultural geography so that we can find that threshold where God's mission happens, that place of borders, imagination and inspiration.

Blessings to you as we enter this season of wilderness wanderings on the way to our true home.

The Bishop's Address: Signposts Along the Way

37th Convention of the Diocese of San Diego

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

La gracia y paz de Dios nuestro Padre y Señor Jesucristo a todos ustedes.

I.

As some of you know, my hobby is wood working. It is what I do to restore myself a bit and exercise my creative side. Like all woodworkers, sometimes the only discernable byproduct of my time in the shop is saw dust. Yet from time to time, I am asked to put that avocation in service of the church. And so, when Hannah Wilder told me that we needed sign posts for our convention signs, I thought of that as a way I could contribute to the cause.

So, I put my saw, router, drill and socket wrench to work and made a few sign posts for this convention. If you successfully made your way to the registration table or the restroom, you are welcome.

However, as I thought about my modest project of building stands for signs, it occurred to me that this is perhaps an apt analogy for our ministry in this diocese. For this project was collaboration. Greg Tuttle designed and ordered the signs, I built the stands, and others moved them here and placed them where they would be the most helpful.

In our life together, we each do different tasks and we hope that the combined efforts are signs—messages of God—written or spoken in words or in deeds. We receive such signs and messages as the fruits of prayer, pondering, conversations, and discernment—the sort of work in which we have just been engaged at our tables. Just like the team effort that gave us our convention signs, our words and actions as the Church are humble efforts to frame God’s message in time and place together. “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” I Cor. 3:1

Bishops and really the whole people of God are crafters of these messages of “the faith once delivered.” The question that is the theme of this convention, “What is God up to?” is a provocative question that assumes that God has a dream for God’s creation, and that in pursuit of that dream God is purposeful and active in the world. And because this is who God is, theologians for centuries have spoken of God’s mission, the missio Dei. And Holy Scripture and the early church mothers and fathers teach us the mission of God is one of restoration and reconciliation. Think of the vision of the peaceable kingdom in Isaiah: “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid…and a little child shall lead them.” Isaiah 11: 6 Or consider the picture painted in the Revelation to John of “the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God …the home of God is amongmortals.” The Revelation 21:2

Yes, from Isaiah through John at Patmos, our forebearers glimpsed God’s dream and painted a poetic picture of hope. God’s relentless love seeks us out even still. God has a mission and God has a church to serve that mission. And this Episcopal Diocese of San Diego has a particular place in that mission. To be such a church and diocese, we are to claim our part in the Mission of God. That is why we ask the question, “What is God up to?”

II.

Believing in a God who acts, our spiritual ancestors have asked this question in the midst of a divided sea, in Babylonian captivity, a garden of betrayal, at the foot of a cross and before an empty tomb. And what they saw and what they testified to was a God who acts to save. Frederick Buechner offered this definition of God’s mission when challenged to sum up God’s story and

God’s mission in three sentences:

God created the world.

The world became a damn mess.

God did not give up on the world.

And so, God remains active—relentlessly pursuing a mission of restoration and hope. And as the church, we are called to join in that mission and to claim that hope.

My friend and colleague, Greg Rickel, Bishop of Olympia, suggested to his convention that “hope without a plan is denial.” Hope without a plan leads to bickering in the wilderness. It freezes disciples in fear behind closed doors. It leads to arguments about whose in and whose out, who is Jew and who is Gentile. But through God’s initiative and with a discerning heart, the people of God come together and act. And it is in that spirit, that we on this day look out and plan a future for this community of faith, this diocese that we believe that God is already making a reality.

Mike Collier and Paige Blair have spent a bit of time giving you a glimpse of what future by sharing with you a preamble to a Strategic Plan as well as a draft statement of mission and vision. In my ordination vows as bishop, I was asked to encourage and support you, to “nourish [you] from the riches of God’s grace.” These words of mission and vision are loaded with God’s grace.

And as I prepare to move deeply into these words and my sense of their power for all of us, I want to pause and open up my heart a bit. What I want you to know is this: I come to this moment and time in our common life with an incredibly thankful heart, first and perhaps foremost for the privilege of ministering with you in this grace-filled vocation of bishop. I am thus overwhelmingly thankful for all of you: for the clergy who day in and day out provide the pastoral and sacramental ministry of Christ and I am thankful for all of the laity who are the primary ministers of the Gospel. I am thankful for the Body of Christ that we are in this place and in this time.

I would be remiss if I did not also express abundant thanks for those with whom I work most closely, the staff of the Office of the Bishop. Bobbi, Isabel, Howard, Hannah, Julie, Suzi, and Rosa serve us with a dedication and diligence that is an immense gift to us all. They see their work as ministry for and with you. To all of you, I hold up a sign of thankfulness.

III.

To begin with thanksgiving is always a fruitful posture from which to set out on anew. That is why The General Thanksgiving comes towards the end of Morning Prayer so that the petitioner begins the day with a grateful heart. And so it is with a grateful heart that I take up these words of mission and vision. Like my sign building in preparation for this convention, this vision casting is a collaborative work. The Strategic Planning Committee and their co-chairs have done great work. We have been blessed by our facilitator, Allan Dorsey.

Part of our work together has been to reflect on our history and where we are as a diocesan community. Permit me to likewise be a bit reflective in my own preface to visioning. For in reality, if you don’t know where you are on the map it is hard to fully interpret the signs.

It is now six years since I followed different signs to travel from the Midwest to this community. In those six years, we have gone from being divided to united. We have moved from being financially over-extended to a state of reasonable stability. We have become more connected and more mission-oriented. And I sense we have become less distracted and rediscovered our passion for Jesus and his way. It feels to me that we are at a place where we can focus our energies on building up the church—for mission.

If we were still reactive and dealing with overwhelming crises, then it would be difficult to discern and live into a more mission driven future. But we are in a different place today. And so, we look ahead and articulate and test what we pray will be our future path. If you detected my language and proverbial fingerprints in the preamble, mission, and vision statements that Mike and Paige shared with you, then you would be correct. Those words are not mere words to me. They come from the core of my being which I pray are very close to where God would have us be in this diocese in this time.

We begin with mission because as a community baptized into the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are to be a missional community. As Swiss theologian Emil Brunner said, “The Church exists by mission as fire exists by burning."1 With hearts brim full with gratitude and love, we extravagantly share God’s love. It is hard wood of the cross love. It is sacrificial. It asks not what the church offers us, but rather what we are privileged to give up to become more a part of Christ in the world. And thus our mission statement,

The Episcopal Diocese of San Diego: a missionary community that dares to follow Jesus Christ in his life of fearless love for the world.

This is who we are supposed to be. We are missional—not our mission but God’s we are followers of Jesus who pours out his life in love—fearless, self-giving, love.

And through its power, this mission statement, says also what we are not. We are not simply casual Christians. Kenda Creasy Dean in her book, Almost Christian, contends that there is a pervasive faith being peddled in our churches which as the title of her book suggests is “almost Christian.” Those who embrace this way of being a Christian acknowledge a God who is not particularly active in our lives and simply wants us to be good and happy. She suggests that we have lost our “missional imagination” through self-focused spiritualities. She urges a refocusing on what is elemental about being a Christian, a Jesus follower. Note how her words challenge us to be focused and to look ahead to our distinctive vision in this diocese:

If the God of Jesus Christ is a missionary God who crosses every boundary—life and death and space and time—to win us, then following Jesus is bound to be anything but convenient.2

Speaking the truth in love, I sometimes find myself in church communities where comfort and convenience is a standard that is commingled following a low-cost, low-benefit following of Jesus. You are the best judge in determining the degree to which this may apply to your congregation. Suffice it to say that I am belaboring this because I believe that we need to dare to follow Jesus however rough the terrain may become. We need to grapple with means to be “sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever,” not to make us nice or happy but to beckon us to join with Christ on the only road to the Kingdom which is the way of the cross.

I have already framed this mission in terms of time and place. This is not accidental. We are an incarnational people. As followers of Jesus, we believe that our bodies, our time and place are the stuff of holiness. Creation is not simply to be escaped or endured but perfected by the Incarnation of God in Christ. Through our baptism, we join in that incarnational reality. We embody Jesus Christ. Paul had it right when he described the church as the Body of Christ. And so our vision of our life as the body has particularity in this time and this place. It is for this reason that we articulate the vision of our diocese is in the particularity of place and time as a working body. Our vision has trajectory; it is charged with action and, I might add, the level of risk that is always found in going journey:

Undeterred by borders or barriers, we are pilgrims with Jesus in relentlessly searching for others to know, to befriend, and to invite them to Christ’s Eucharistic table of reconciliation and sacrificial love.

A critical reality of our geographic location is that it is a place of borders. Again, rooted in the Incarnation, this should not surprise us. After all, the Incarnation is God’s great border crossing from divine to human. In an essay reflecting on the human journey in a place of borders, Fr. Daniel Groody suggests that as we imitate the migrating God in Jesus Christ, we do the fundamental mission of reconciliation, to cross the human-human divide just as God crosses the divine-human divide.3 These liminal places are like our burning bushes where we glimpse the Holy; they are places where God’s mission is begging to be lived out. For us, one such place is obvious: the international border. In naming this reality we are invited to grapple with the complexity of what it means to be a border diocese, where the very issues of immigration, migrant workers, and undocumented travelers cause pain and division. We cannot be truly followers of Jesus Christ if we assume that grappling with such vexing issues is simply too hard, uncomfortable, or divisive.

Greed, racism, and xenophobia—all rooted in fear and misunderstanding—are the real barriers for which the fences along the international border are simply a physical manifestation. Because Jesus is always out ahead, crossing borders (remember lepers, the woman at the well, tax collectors), we too must follow him and transcend these limits—pushing through to the other side:

• The barrier between faiths which breeds so much misunderstanding, fear, and even hate
• The barrier between those who are serving or have served in the military and those who are the beneficiaries of that service
• The barrier between the obscenely rich and those in abject poverty

When we see a border of separation, we should think mission! The French Jesuit Michel de Certeau echoes this presupposition,

Within the Christian experience, the boundary or limit is a place for action… Boundaries are the place of the Christian work, and their displacements are the result of this work.4

I would challenge you to try and define a signal focal point of Christian mission that does not have a border to be crossed as a basic characteristic. Our vision is then a sign that calls us to be undeterred in a tireless search for coming to know and be known by the stranger, the other. As the Archbishop of Canterbury has said, “The slogan of the church's life is “not without the other.”5 We live with an ever-present uneasiness that this Body is not complete and so we relentlessly seek the other as if looking for our lost selves, because we are.

IV.

The sacramental sign of both mission and vision in the particularity of this time and this place—surely our time and place and for that matter any time and any place—is the Eucharist. It is both and. Whenever we come together in remembrance of Jesus Christ, we are united in a catholicity that transcends congregation, diocese, the Episcopal Church, and binds us to the universal body. This is a miracle glimpsed. It is a present reality and not yet.

Philip Sheldrake, vice-principal at Sarum College, Salisbury profoundly states this true when we writes,

To live eucharistically as a way of ‘practicing everyday life’ involves an act of commitment… to convert their time and place into a laboratory of ultimate hope. 6

A Eucharistic practice that leads to a hope fulfilling mission is what we pray in one of our own Eucharistic Prayers, “Open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us.”7 Mission of God! “Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only and not for strength; for pardon only and not for renewal.”8 Practicing in the laboratory of hope! And this action-oriented, table-centered laboratory is unbounded. For the Eucharistic life is thankful cohabitation with God in Christ and all who come to the table. Again, to quote Sheldrake,

To celebrate the Eucharist also commits people, even more radically, to cross the boundaries of fear, of prejudiced and injustice in a prophetic embracing of other people, without exception...10

This is where our heart must be. This is the place from which our mission streams.

As clergy serving in congregations, as lay leaders, as bishop, we can be overwhelmed by institutional worries. We will always be grappling with tough financial issues, with division, and such. While we should be attentive to these concerns, we must not allow them to either preoccupy us or distract us. If we do, we will be taken off track and look for cheap and expedient solutions. We will deal with mere symptoms and not the root problem, which in this case I believe in my bones is a failure to bet our whole lives on following Jesus in all his demands.

We will be tempted to either become like an entertainment church with edge music and perhaps a rigid proscriptive dogma that offers simple answers to perplexing questions, or we will offer a tepid, low demand “almost” Christian faith in hopes that we gain a few more pew sitters or pledgers. The first option is too limiting; the second is faithless.

V.

Today, we have again been feed in the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. We have listened to the Holy Scriptures and said our prayers. Our mission and vision is to live as followers of Jesus. We are called to give all. If we are thus faithful, the temporal and institutional matters, while ever present, will be taken care of. If we are thus faithful, we will in this time and this place be Christ to those who do not know Christ.

This remains an extraordinary age of mission. God’s mission has a church. We should be undeterred by borders and boundaries, but seek them out as the place for us to do our Church craft. And so dare to be fearless followers of Jesus; we dare to be a Eucharistic people of hope.

You may know the story of two intrepid Irish boys who used to spend their days exploring the rolling countryside. They journeyed over rivers and through valleys, past farms and flocks. When they got hungry, they’d help themselves to what God offered them through the unwitting generosity of local farmers.

One day, the boys came upon a high wall that guarded an orchard and blocking their path. It seemed impassable. For a moment, they considered turning back and ending their journey. Then, in a flash of unspoken agreement, they took their caps off their heads and flung them over the impassable wall. Now they had no choice but to continue.11

Well, we are at a place of decision. For myself, I guess that I have thrown my miter over the wall. Dear Ones, will you toss your caps over as well? Will you take the risks and rewards of living into this mission and vision. Undeterred, let us throw our proverbial caps over the walls that separate us from those whom we should come know. God is up to something in the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego. Let us join with God in God’s daring mission of love.

And I now end where I began, as your grateful carpenter bishop, who loves you more than you will ever know.

May God richly bless you and protect you in this dangerous and eternally graced vocation.

Footnotes:

1 Emil Brunner, source unknown

2Kenda Creasy Dean, Almost Christian: What the Faith of Our Teenagers is Telling the American Church, Oxford University Press, 2010, p. 37.

3Daniel G. Groody, C.S.C., “Dying to Live: Theology, Migration, and the Human Journey, Reflections, Yale Divinity School, Fal 2008, p. 33.

4Michel De Certeuau, “How is Christianity Thinkable Today?”, p. 151.

5Rowan Williams, Tokens of Trust: An introduction to Christian belief, Canterbury Press, Norwich, 2007, p. 106.

6Philip Sheldrake, Spaces for the Sacred: Place, Memory, and Identity, The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001, p. 79.

7The Book of Common Prayer, p. 372.

8Ibid.

9Sheldrake, p. 79.

10Stories for Writers and Speakers, http://storiesforspeakers.blogspot.com/2010/09/flinging-your-hat-over-wall.html

America's Second Finest

A few weeks ago a poll was released that suggested that San Diego is NOT America’s Finest City. Actually, we came in second. We were beat out once again by the Big Apple.

However, there is a curious footnote to this Silver Medal performance. New York, the most desirable place to live, is also…wait for it…wait for it…is the number one LEAST desirable place to live! As it turns out, this scientific survey was simply asking people where they most wanted to live and where they most don’t want to live. So in my mind you can’t be the best and the worst and win.

So let’s look at some of the raw data*:

Mean travel time to work:
New York = 39.4 minutes; San Diego = 22.6 minutes

Acreage of major outdoor space:
New York's Central Park = 843; San Diego's Balboa Park = 1200

Average temperature in January:
New York = 39 degrees; San Diego = 66 degrees

Okay I have to admit that I envy their public transportation system and lament our dependence on the car. And goodness know, the Yankees could let us have just one of those 27 World Series championships or the Giants one of those three Super Bowl wins.

But when all is said and done, we have some things in San Diego that you can find no where else: slow mo skating down the pier in Pacific Beach, watching the ships pass by Cabrillo Point, more evening stars, great sunsets, and if we are lucky some of those sunsets will include a green flash.

So for me it remains America’s finest city. I will hang in there with the Padres and the Chargers. I will continue to give thanks for all my neighbors.

*from the October 22, 2010 issue of the San Diego Union Tribune

Leadership in a Time of Fear

Two years ago our nation went to the polls and voted for change. On Tuesday, November 2nd, we seemingly did the same thing in reverse. Two years ago, we said to a group of folks, "have a go at it." Tuesday we said that we were going to let others have a try.

I actually think that people of all political persuasions should be deeply concerned about this fickle, and I would add, fearful electorate. Two years, 24 months, 104 weeks, 730 day is not enough time to make a judgment about the quality of leadership. Indeed, suggesting that it is causes leaders to settle for band aids and quick fixes rather than long-term transformational changes.

I sense the same thing happening in our churches. I will often be with a congregation that is highly anxious about their future. In many cases, the people are dealing with significant problems that developed over a long period of time, sometimes decades—just like our elected leaders. These anxious congregants or vestry members want the problem fixed quickly. Often, their perceived quick fix is the new priest. I find myself offering a bit of wisdom that I inherited. If it took some many years to get into this mess, then feel free to take the same amount of time fixing it.

It is my conviction that we are addicted to the quick fix in our political life, our social life, and our religious life. Fearful, we adulate emerging leaders, blame them, and then attack them. In both our civic life and our church life, we have serious problems to solve. When Britain faced the Nazi menace, the king called on Churchill to form a government. It was, however, a coalition government. I wonder if we treated these times of great economic travail as a similar time and committed to coalition, we might actually solve problems.

What if the president had a cabinet that truly looked like America, including Republican, Democrat, and neither? What if we had coalitions of theological diversity actually come together to plan a missional future? We actually may move our social order and religious order to a completely new level. Maybe this is how to lead in a time of fear.

Camping and Kids

Last week, I had the opportunity to participate in the National Council meeting for Episcopal Camps and Conference Centers (ECCC): www.episcopalccc.org. Our own Peter Bergstrom, executive director of Camp Stevens, also serves as the executive director of ECCC. Yes, he is a very busy man!

The Council meeting was a particular gift for me for two reasons. First, I learned a great deal more about the richness of our Episcopal Camps and Conference Centers which span from Hawaii to Puerto Rico to Olympia to Maine. Secondly, the council was address by Peg Smith, Executive Director of the American Camp Association. Peg comes to her work from a background in early childhood development. In her presentation, she hooked me by suggesting that the great benefit of the camping experience is to help kids be kids. Too many kids in our communities and churches have stolen childhoods through poverty, divorce, unreasonably high expectations, and busyness. The spiritual costs from this curtailed childhood are high.

Camp Stevens is a treasure for childhood in our diocese. In the woods and meadows, around campfires and on ropes courses, kids can be kids. And all of us can rediscover the rejuvenative quality of play.

Come to Julian; Come to Camp Stevens: www.campstevens.org

Human Life Well-lived in Common

Over the last two weeks, business, civic, and political leaders have been meeting in Tijuana in a conference, Innovadora, aimed at building a hopeful and collaborative future for our regions, a future that transcends the international border that separates Tijuana from San Diego. On this side of the border, we are keenly aware of our own critical needs. Nevertheless, it is surprising to no one that Tijuana is in dire straits. Indeed, the future of these two cities are inextricably connected—thus, the international nature of the conference.

The conference planners focused on four areas: infrastructure, human capital, public safety, and cross border ties. These issues were framed in business and economic terms. However, it is good to remember that the word, "economy," is the word, "housekeeping." In reality, four focal issues of Innovadora are issues of housekeeping for the human family sharing hearth and home along a maritime desert coast. These issues are theological issues to which the Church is called to be a player.

Rowan Williams rightly suggests centering these matters of economy in his new work, Crisis and Recovery: Ethics, Economics, and Justice:

“…the question of how we think about shared wellbeing is the central one before us. Theology does not solve specific economic questions (any more than it solves specific political or scientific ones); but what it offers is a robust definition of what human wellbeing looks like and what the rationale is for human life well-lived in common.”

I am a bit haunted by the word that dangles at the end of that quote, "common." With a guarded border, there is no sense of the commons—no common space, no common economy. In our diocese, we are working more and more with partners at Dorcas House in Tijuana and with the Diocese of Western Mexico.

Maybe, just maybe, our contribution will be in creating a sense of life lived in common. Could it be that these two cities could increasingly be seen as one?

Nullification Revisited

The Rt. Rev. Mark Lawrence wrote the essay, “A Conservationist among Lumberjacks,” in The Living Church, published online on October 1, 2010, which attempts to paint the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina as a protector of the Constitution of the Episcopal Church.

It is true that there are no new plots.

What Bishop Lawrence postulates is simply a twenty-first century reprisal of the 1828 nullification crisis in which the state of South Carolina attempted to nullify federal tariffs.

Bishop Lawrence feigns great sorrow at the changing landscape of the Episcopal Church. He writes, “I have grown sad from walking among the stumps of what was once a noble old-growth Episcopalian grove in the forest of Catholic Christianity.” Donning the mantel of ecclesial conservationist, Bishop Lawrence even quotes environmentalist, Aldo Leopold, “a conservationist is one who is humbly aware that with each stroke [of the ax] he is writing his signature on the face of his land.” The bishop adds, “far too many leaders in our church have never learned this lesson.” Indeed.

All of this is prelude to his main premise that the presiding bishop is threatening the polity of the Episcopal Church. He wants you to believe that the threat is manifested in three ways: because her chancellor has retained a South Carolina attorney to represent the wider Episcopal Church’s interests should they diverge from the Diocese of South Carolina’s interests; through the Title IV revisions from the 2009 General Convention; and by the manner in which the House of Bishops has dealt with bishops who have left the Episcopal Church.

If Bishop Lawrence were simply presenting these thoughts to spur debate about his concern regarding the polity of the Episcopal Church and his perceptions of threats to the same, I could imagine he and I having a lively conversation, perhaps when we next meet at House of Bishops. He might even convince me to support changes in the canons to preserve our polity. However I suspect that that is not what Bishop Lawrence is after. His essay is rather an attempt to justify resolutions being considered this weekend at the Convention of the Diocese of South Carolina, which among other things, claims “sovereignty” of diocese. He tips his hand in his essay when he claims that “the presiding bishop and her unelected chancellor [are] intruding into diocesan independence.”

An Episcopal diocese is no more independent of the Episcopal Church than a state is independent of the federal government. This is nothing short of an attempt to craft ecclesiastical nullification. And of late, we have had too much practice in that with four other dioceses claiming nullification on the road to secession.

Bishop Lawrence’s thinking is problematic.

First, there is no real threat from the presiding bishop unless you attempt secession, in which case she will simply do her job of preserving the diocese from those who choose to abandon it.

The Title IV revisions, while not perfect, are an effort to shift from a disciplinary model to a pastoral model of dealing with clergy conduct issues. There is no external threat to a diocese from the presiding bishop. In fact, due process is enhanced. I would invite Bishop Lawrence and the Diocese of South Carolina to join the wider Episcopal Church in living with these canonical changes and to offer changes at future General Conventions. This is the right way to deal with perceived imperfections.

And it is rather silly to raise procedural objections to Bob Duncan’s deposition. While I believe we followed our canonical procedures properly, Duncan’s previously prepared departure to the Southern Cone immediately acted upon and announced moments after his deposition made it clear that the House made the appropriate decision.

Indeed, what’s the complaint? Bob Duncan and the House of Bishops were in perfect agreement: he was no longer a bishop in the Episcopal Church. The issue for Duncan was that his deposition gravely weakened his flimsy legal position relative to his compliance with an out of court settlement relating to Episcopal Church property. As Bishop Lawrence and the Diocese of South Carolina prepare to move forward with their own canonical changes, I fear they may be playing a similar game.

Bishop Lawrence: be at peace. Your colleagues in our House of Bishops support you in leading the Diocese of South Carolina consonant with its particular theological perspective. We grieve with you those who have left the Episcopal Church. But know this -- no one cut them out. They were not the victims of lumberjacks; they uprooted themselves. We pray that you will not do the same. It would be a regrettable repeat of history. In the end, we will wait for your next move. Please don’t fire on Fort Sumter.

Bishops on the Border

In some respects, it may seem strange for me to go on a border experience with other bishops just before our House of Bishops meeting in Arizona. After all, I can leave my home and be in Tijuana in thirty minutes. However, when Kirk Smith, the bishop of Arizona invited us for a two-day visit on both sides of the border, I couldn't resist.

In the wake of the passage and signing of SB1070, it was particularly important for the bishop of San Diego to be in solidarity with the bishop of Arizona. Our two dioceses comprise a segment of the border where undocumented individuals continue to risk their lives crossing the desert in hope of a better life. Because of this San Diego and Arizona have been the areas in which hundreds upon hundreds have perished in an effort to come to our country.

In reality, the situations in the Diocese of Arizona and in the Diocese of San Diego are similar. Both economies depend on migrant labor. Both areas have people with passionate feeling on both sides of the issue of undocumented persons and immigration. What I saw, I have seen before: crosses in memory of those who died in the desert, border agents trying to compassionately enforce the law, citizens of two nations affected by unintended consequences of legislation often more informed by rhetoric than wisdom.

In our table conversation today, Bishop Smith asserted that the constellation of issues that we catalog as immigration comprise the civil rights challenge of our generation. This is our Selma, our Birmingham. Indeed.

In the next few days, our House of Bishops will continue our prayerful consideration of a response to what is happening along the line in the sand from our beaches heading eastward. This modern trail of tears demands our response in word and deed. It demands that we find our heart of hospitality.

Upon my return, I look forward to finding our voice and our response to these our brothers and sisters who suffer simply because of their place of birth. I fully expect this work to move us to theologically reflect on our posture towards other members of the human family who are affected directly and indirectly by our actions and inactions. As followers of Jesus Christ, how can we do anything less? Our primary alliance to Christ leaves us no other option.

The Rt. Rev. James R. Mathes
Bishop of San Diego

Photo: A cross affixed to the border fence. Each little ribbon has the name of an individual who died attempting to cross the desert into the United States of America.