May 22, 2011 - The Reverend Canon Brad Karelius

There are some people who have the gift of “non anxious presence” in stormy times. I wonder if you can think of someone in your life who is like that? This would not be someone who is indifferent to suffering or a sunny optimist who only thinks happy thoughts. I am thinking of someone who radiates a deep trust in the goodness and amazing grace of God, even in tough times. Can you think of someone in your life who has been like that for you?

In today’s Gospel Jesus encourages the disciples to not be anxious and he helps them to find the way to peace and serenity in desperate times. The setting is the Last Supper. This is a night dense with fear, apprehension and anxiety. Jesus has predicted that some who are there will betray him and that he is going to leave them and be taken away into suffering. That kind of dinner speech could certainly create anxiety. Where are you going and how will we know the way to find you?

The Gospel of John is concerned about answering these anxious questions about where. The first recruited disciple asks Jesus: “Where are you staying?” Pilate asks Jesus: “Where are you from?” On Easter Day, Mary sees an empty tomb and exclaims, “We do not know where they have laid him.” Where.

John is not concerned about the geographical space of “where.” Instead there is an inner place that can’t be seen. Throughout John, we hear Jesus’ desire that the disciples have the same indwelling connection with Abba Father God that Jesus has. For Jesus this communion with Abba is his spiritual ballast. “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us.”

For 41 years I have almost always used this gospel at Funeral services as the gospel reading. Often, when we are thinking of someone we love who has died, we think of many dwelling places in God’s house, a mansion in heaven with a special place for our loved one. But as I look at this gospel again, I think Jesus is teaching about an invitation to enter into a deep relationship of union with him.

Mystics understand this kind of invitation, because they know that is where solid ground will be found in the storms and uncertainties of life. It’s hard for us to grasp this invitation. But it is a very simple invitation Jesus has repeated again and again. Jesus is the way. Thomas, who needs GPS or Map Quest step by step turn guidance toward this way, asks, “Master, we do not know where you are going, how we can know the way.” Give us some specific help here please.

Once again this invitation comes to you: Come my way, my truth, my life. But Jesus needs to be invited and asked. You and I are invited into a personal relationship with the living Jesus. If you invite him, there will be a response, and you can build on that friendship over and over through all the storms and challenges and difficulties ahead of you.

For many years, the Episcopal Church has been teaching this organizational theory called “System’s Theory” based on Rabbi Edwin Friedman’s classic book, Generation to Generation: Family Process in Church and Synagogue. He wrote that book in reflection on his own experience when his synagogue blew up in conflict and he had to leave. The book was the organizational Bible of this Diocese in the 1990s. At the core was the leader/ rector/rabbi who needed to have a non anxious presence to guide a congregation through change.

How does a leader handle conflict and difference within a family or organization? The leader doesn’t have to get caught up in the maelstrom of emotions going on around them. Balancing intimacy and autonomy. How to enjoy close contact with siginficant others in their lives without losing one’s independence? He wasn’t teaching how to manage conflict, but how to manage oneself in times of conflict. The leader can chose not to be caught up in the dynamic reactivity going around him or her. The trick is to step back from all the emotion and stay connected and committed to the organization. Reactions to the leader during these times will be resistence and stabotoge. So the leader needs to be self-differentiated. That is a two step process. First, he/she needs to know deep within them what they believe. Second, he/she needs to define themselves to the others. It’s a balancing process, no one is perfect at this.

Family systems like a church want homeostatis and resist change. It is very difficult to change a family system like a church or synagogue.

If you have been in our parish since 1981, we are a very, very different congregation than 1981.

When I first came here in 1981 Messiah Parish was the Santa Ana Country Club at prayer. Most of the old timer families had fled to the suburban churches, leaving an urban core going through dramatic change. Today we are a church that radically welcomes everyone, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, age, social class, and political persuasion to the heart of ministry and activity.

This kind of change rarely happens, but it had to happen for us to have the vitality we have now. I am not a model of non anxious presence. But I do know that my personal relationship with Jesus as the Way, has been the spiritual ballast for me through many storms. I remember the loneliness of leadership in 1990 when we lost important parishioners because of our inclusion of Latino and gay-lesbian members and our ministry with the homeless. You can ask Ellen Hill how I was doing back then. It was especially difficult when patriarchs of this parish who were key leaders and had guided me through my first years hear expressed their very strong disapproval of the vision I was proposing. That was when I began to learn that not everything people say that is critical is necessarily a personal attack on me.

Non anxious presence does not mean becoming a self actualized tough guy in the perfect storm. The only way I know to make it through the wilderness of tough, challenging or changing times is companionship with Jesus, fostering friendship with him, listening for his voice, and trusting that the amazing grace that came out of no where in the past, remembering that, will be with us as we both enter the uncharted waters of the future. For me it is retirement, and a total change of identity. For you it will be a new pastor. Our ability to be faithful disciples will be related to how we keep our eyes on Jesus who is the way and listen for his counsel in our prayer. That will be when our hearts will become steady and hopeful.

Amen

Resources used:
America Magazine, “Untroubled Hearts,” by Barbara Reid, May 18, 2011.
Generation to Generation, Edwin Friedman.

Evensong Piano Concert and High Tea: A Taste of England - Sunday, June 12, 2011, 4:00 p.m.


Parish Choir
James Gilliam, Director
Michael Sanders, Piano and Organ

Experience a bit of England in the OC in this British-style church. The all-British composers are some of the greatest musicians ever produced "across the pond."
                          
Sanders’ performance at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion was “glorious.”
Mart in Bernheimer, Los Angeles Times

                           
We are excited to welcome organist and pianist Michael Sanders of San Juan Capistrano to join us in this service of Choral Evensong. Mr. Sanders will also present a short program of music for piano by Domenico Scarlatti and York Bowen.
                        
C.V. Stanford was the first important composer of English church music since the time of Byrd and Purcell. Born in Ireland in 1852, he studied law at Cambridge before his father permitted him to study music in Leipzig. His unrivalled knowledge of contemporary music (Wagner, Brahms, Meyerbeer and Offenbach), together with his love and respect for earlier choral music, allowed him to make the biggest impact of all his colleagues in the renaissance of English music in the late 19th century. In addition to his work as a composer (he also wrote oratorios, 10 operas, part-songs and instrumental works), he was a distinguished conductor and editor. Perhaps most importantly, he taught virtually all the significant British composers of the first half of the 20th century: Bridge, Holst, Howells, Ireland and Vaughan Williams.

One of his less-well-known students was Edgar Bainton (1880-1956), a composer, teacher and conductor like Stanford. Bainton was born in London, and became principal of the Conservatory of Music in Newcastle upon Tyne after his studies with Stanford. In 1938 he was appointed director of the Conservatory in Sydney, Australia, where he remained for the rest of his career. Although he composed symphonies, operas, chamber music, song settings and piano pieces – some of which are now beginning to be recorded -- he is perhaps best known for his setting of the tonight’s anthem: And I Saw a New Heaven.

"Blessed are the Pure in Heart" is the work of Walford Davies (1869-1941). Davies played the organ at the Temple Church in London and was a composer and musical director at the University of Wales. He is known for his oratorios and choral suites. We invite listeners to let these musical settings of the anthems and service music be their prayer to Almighty God, and hope that hearing them tonight will bring God’s grace, God’s peace, and God’s joy.

High Tea in the Parish Hall following the concert.  

Episcopal Church of the Messiah
614 N. Bush Street
Santa Ana, CA 92701 
714.543.9389

Admission and parking are free.
For directions and more info: messiah-santaana.org

May 15, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada


Acts 2:42 – 47 Psalm 23 1 Peter 2:19 – 25 John 10:1 - 10

They were believers
  • devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
  • having all things in common
  • selling their possessions and goods and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need.
  • daily spending much time together in the temple…
  • eating their food with glad and generous hearts
  • praising God and having the good will of all the people…
And daily the Lord added to their number…

This morning’s lesson from the Acts of the Apostles gives us quite a description of the early Christians and their community!
They certainly sound joyful and generous and non-anxious!
Clearly Jesus is foremost in the hearts and minds of these followers, and his life and teachings are the organizing principle of their lives. In him they had found a home.

How might Christians in today’s world – followers of this same Jesus – be described, I wonder?

We are believers,
  • coming to church on Sunday mornings when we are free of outside demands, to hear the Word of God, to pray, and to break bread, and perhaps to have some fellowship at Coffee Hour….
  • donating our time and our money to charity, debating whether a tithe should be based on our net or our gross income…
  • breaking bread, our food fresh from the microwave, the drive-through, or take-out window, and eating hastily, being distracted by many things…
  • allowing complacency or preoccupation, or a sense of entitlement, or the stridency of our own opinions or beliefs, to get in the way of praise for God and the good will of all people.
And week by week, the statistics tell us, the church is shrinking in membership…

What has changed?
How did we get from there to here, from that tightly knit group of followers of Jesus to the scattered, fragmented, distracted, group of individuals today who identify as “Christians”?

Today we celebrate Jesus as “The Good Shepherd.” It is an image that had powerful resonance for the early Christians, the metaphor coming out of their experience and needing no explanation. They recognized in that imagery Jesus, fortifying them through difficult times, knowing him as the shepherd and guardian of their souls, the one who walked with them through the valley of the shadow of death and sustained them in the face of evil. There might be evil in the world – wolves or Roman soldiers – yes! – but there was also this Good Shepherd, who assuredly was with them, caring for them, leading them to that ultimate safety…

Good shepherd imagery doesn’t have quite the same resonance in 21st century America.

Val Webb, author of Like Catching Water in a Net, observes: “We continue to teach high-tech city children about ancient shepherds, believing we must preserve the biblical metaphor of Divine Shepherd, yet as author George O’Brien notes, “A God who travels only on camels may end up as a subject only for tourists, not for life’s daily commuters. How is the modern commuter to engage his or her imagination with that Biblical narrative so overstocked with sheep and figs?” (p. 19)

It is a challenge.
Something has happened – as society has become more complex, offering us greater freedom and more choices; as increasingly we have become urban dwellers, living at a remove from the land; our sense of dependency has shifted from God – however we conceptualize God – and become compartmentalized. In a sense it has been “outsourced”: we’re far less likely to speak of dependence on God that we are to recognize our dependence on an auto mechanic, financial planner, therapist, handy man, cleaning lady…
And in some ways we have become like tourists making a weekend trek into a spiritual landscape…

Yet underneath all that busy-ness and self-sufficiency and making-our-way-through-this world, we all have a yearning, a longing, to feel ourselves sheltered and protected at some more basic level – there is an appeal to the IDEA of a Good Shepherd, to what that metaphor represents, regardless how foreign the image – or how loathe we are to think of ourselves as sheep. We long for a God of intimacy, a God who is accessible, not remote, absent, judgmental, frightening…

And perhaps that metaphor can lead us where we need to go.
Within the sheep world there is a concept of “being hefted.” Lest you not visualize some apocalyptic image of Jesus dramatically swooping down from the heavens and scooping some up and leaving some behind, let me hasten to explain that sheep who are hefted have a “sense of place” about them, a sense of “home.” Hefted sheep can be left to roam freely, as they will not stray from the land that they know very well. They instinctively can locate therapeutic plants to eat and, on the basis of wind, where they will most likely find shelter when needed. It is home.

In our deracinated lives, what we sorely need is to be hefted – to have a spiritual landscape in which we are secure as we make our daily commute to work or to school, as we move through the routine pieces of our lives, from dry cleaners to grocery store to theater… We need to have that sense of home (that) an intimate God provides; a place where a loving God is accessible; a landscape we have internalized and carry with us, a landscape that we know well and from which we do not roam.

We need it, and we long for it.
And sometimes we misdirect just what it is that will offer us that nurturing and security we so desire, and we fortify walls, perhaps even become militant, or self-medicate or become hyper-vigilant.
We take it upon ourselves rather than allowing ourselves to lean into God, to listen to the voice of the shepherd who is calling us.

And so this morning, let’s lean into God.
Let’s listen to the voice of the shepherd who is calling us.
If the shepherd imagery doesn’t work for you, ask yourself what does?
How do you visualize God as God envelopes you, holds you, reassures you of God’s care for you?
What resonates with you?
How do you image the sustaining, life-giving relationship we hear about in this morning’s lessons?
What makes the words of that beloved 23rd Psalm a reality in your life?

I heard the other day of someone who said that as a child she thought that Shirley Goodness was her Guardian Angel, and that Mercy was her assistant. She felt totally safe: they would follow her all the days of her life, and she would dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

I myself for many years carried with me the image of God-as-hazelnut. I have no idea where the image came from – I’m not sure I even knew what a hazelnut was at that time, and it was long before I had read Julian of Norwich and what she had to say about God and hazelnuts! All I know that it made God close, and it was a comfort to me. I would regularly “take out” my hazelnut image, and finger it, or tuck under my chin when I went to sleep at night. For whatever reason, in that hazelnut was all I needed to know of God’s love and care for me, and to have it right there, with me.

The image of Jesus-as-Good-Shepherd offers similar reassurance and accessibility: the nurturing and protection right here, with us, all the days of our lives.
Guardian Angels.
Hazelnut.
Good Shepherd.

It’s not the image, but the relationship.
It is a relationship that helps orient our lives around the God who loves us.
It is a relationship that gives us a home – a loving home, and hefts us into a spiritual landscape, allowing us to roam freely without getting lost.

For surely God’s goodness and mercy does follow us all the days of our lives, and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Amen.

Greetings from your Search Committee!

The Search Committee is the group that will review resumes, conduct interviews of potential candidates, and recommend final candidates to the Vestry for the new Rector to assume the clergy leadership of the parish after Father Brad’s retirement.

The most important news to report in this month’s update is that the Vestry has approved the Search Committee members, each of whom accepted the invitation to serve on the Search Committee. The members of the Search Committee are Biff Baker, Kitty Crary, Carol Harvey, Len Hightower, Lamar Hill, Jean Hollingshead, Janet Hryniewicki, Janette Lange, Larry Reddel, Bill Turpit, Leonora Will, and me, Nancy Whitehead, as Committee chair.

In March, the Search Committee met for an introductory meeting. At the meeting, the sentiment of each member of the group was how honored and humbled we are to have been requested to serve Messiah at this important time. “Each of us love this parish and are intent on discerning God’s will in calling a Rector who will care for this parish and its people.”

The first step for the Search Committee will be to attend a retreat in early June, with the Vestry, to prepare for the search process. Over the next months, the parish profile will be approved, and the Diocese will provide us with names of potential candidates. At that time, which we estimate will be sometime in Fall 2011, the work of the Search Committee in evaluating candidates will really begin.
      
Thank you for entrusting us with this important task. You will continue to be informed at each step of the process through the newsletter, regular announcements at services, the church website (www.messiah-santaana.org), and through regular mailings. Please feel free to ask me, or other members of the Search Committee or Vestry, if you have questions about the process. Please continue to pray for the Search Committee and the Vestry, that we may ultimately call a Rector who will lead Messiah in the direction God chooses.
       
                            Respectfully,
                                    Nancy Whitehead, Search Committee Chair

May 1, 2011 - The Reverend Carolyn Estrada

Acts 2:14a, 22 – 32 Psalm 16 1 Peter 1:3 – 9 John 20:19 - 31

Last week you and I experienced the Risen Christ.
Some of us may even still be a little raw from the experience – dazed, perhaps, wondering, What happened? Was it real? Could it be? Did I dream it?...
Trying to remember exactly, perhaps to make sense of, or even reclaim, the experience.
After all – nothing seems to have changed, really.
The streets beyond these walls are still pretty scary – Roman soldiers everywhere, violence and threats of violence.
No wonder we’re huddled behind these walls, hiding, despairing – at loose ends, really.
What’s next? Where do we go from here?

And then Jesus – the Risen Christ – comes and stands among us, and says, “Peace be with you.”
He shows us his hands and his side.
He breathes his Holy Spirit into us, and suddenly we are different, transformed!

Thomas isn’t with us. We don’t know where he was, or why.
  • Perhaps he’s gone searching for food for our evening meal, coming back with the groceries. He uses the “secret knock” to gain entry to the room, and bursts through the door. “Whew! Here’s the food you asked for, Peter! Wow! It’s dangerous out there!”
  • Or perhaps he’s gone to Galilee as directed, and is only now returning, dragging his travel-weary and discouraged body through the door: “Hey, guys! I looked everywhere around Galilee! No sign of Jesus anywhere! Couldn’t find him at all!”

What we do know is that Thomas must have been drawn up short, startled and amazed at the change in the disciples, at the atmosphere in the room, at the way anxiety and despair have been replaced by Peace.
“Whoa! Something’s different! What happened to you?!”

And the disciples tell him. “We have seen the Lord,” they say.
But it’s more than “We have laid eyes on the Lord.”
Clearly, they have experienced the Lord.
They can tell Thomas all about it, but he can’t know it in here, their words can’t give him that same experience.
“I want what you’ve got!” we can almost hear him exclaim! Whatever it is, I want it, too! Let ME “see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side…”
I, too, want the experience of the Risen Christ!

Thomas has been a faithful follower of Jesus.
He knows a lot about Jesus, about his earthly life and ministry. He has followed him; he has heard his teachings; he has been loyal, willing even to go to Jerusalem with Jesus to die; he has undoubtedly been grieving Jesus’ death; but, when we first meet him in this morning’s Gospel lesson, he has not experienced the resurrection.

Just as words cannot convey the power of a work of art – we must experience for ourselves the painting, the concerto, the poem, the ballet – so, too, with Thomas and Jesus.
He doesn’t want simply to HEAR ABOUT the disciples’ encounter with the Risen Christ.
He can see the power of that encounter, the transformation – and he wants that experience for himself!

I think of this morning’s Gospel lesson as giving us two “snapshots” of the early church which are important for us today, especially as Messiah faces Brad’s retirement and this time of transition:

  • In the first, we see a motley assortment of Jesus-followers, frightened, confused, depressed, despairing – wounded in spirit if not in body – huddling together for security behind the walls of that room.
  • In the picture, “taken” as it were just a short while after the first, we have that same group of Jesus-followers after their encounter with the Risen Christ: a group altogether transformed and empowered by the Spirit!

It is clear that “the church” is NOT about Peter, or the Beloved Disciple, or James the brother of Jesus, or any other one person who might assume a leadership role. Even so, the Church of the Messiah is not about the clergy, or the wardens, or the vestry. The church is about the gathering of followers of Jesus who have been transformed by their experience of the Risen Christ.
The other remarkable fact about this passage, these “snapshots,” – and an important lesson, at least for me – is that when Jesus appears to this assembly, never once does he say: “Why did you all scatter while I was on the cross? Where were you?!” Or, “Peter, why did you deny me?” Or, “Didn’t I ask you to go meet me in Galilee? I looked for you there…”
The encounter is free of reprimand, chastisement, criticism, or guilt. Instead, Jesus says to them: “Peace.”
Peace.
He gives them the gift of the Holy Spirit.
THERE is the Church!
The Church – then and now! – is what happens when we encounter the Risen Christ!

This morning of course we hear that Jesus does come once again into the closed room where the disciples are gathered, and he does offer himself, his hands and his side, to Thomas.
As Jesus offers himself, so Thomas receives, so Thomas experiences.
Thomas may well be the model for St. Augustine’s observation: “When you begin to experience God, you realize that what you are experiencing cannot be put into words.”
Thus, Thomas’ response: “My Lord and my God.”
My Lord and my God.
He can say no more; he can simply acknowledge his experience.

But what about you and me?
How can we experience our Risen Lord? We, who cannot see, who struggle to believe what we cannot see?

Jesus’ life and death happened in a specific time and place: two thousand years ago, in and about Jerusalem.
But his resurrection liberated him, not just from death, but from the confines of time and space.
Fortunately for us, Jesus does not reside in that hut Peter wanted to build for him on the mountain at the Transfiguration.
And his body is not in a tomb in Jerusalem.
The resurrection makes the experience of the Risen Christ available to each one of us, to you and to me.

Of course we can’t invoke experiences of the sacred: they don’t come on demand.
Thomas asked for what he wanted; but he did more than ask: he also opened himself to receive.
So, too, with us:
We can pray.
We can open ourselves to receive.
We can move through our daily lives alert to possibility.

A rabbi taught that experiences of God can never be planned or achieved. “They are spontaneous moments of grace, almost accidental.” His student asked, “Rabbi, if God-realization is just accidental, why do we work so hard doing all these spiritual practices?” The rabbi replied, “To be as accident-prone as possible.”

So, what about you and me?
How can we be “accident-prone”?
How can we experience our Risen Lord?
We can’t put our fingers in the marks of the nails and our hands in his side…
Or can we?

For I believe that:
  • Whenever we reach out to the poor, the downcast.
  • Whenever we sit with someone in their pain.
  • Whenever we oppose injustice, or exhibit solidarity with the oppressed.
  • Whenever we feed, or clothe, or nurture, or care for, or weep with, the broken parts of creation,
then we are touching the wounds in the hands and the side of Christ.

Whenever we feed, or clothe, or nurture, or care for, or weep with, the broken parts of creation, then we are touching the wounds in the hands and the side of Christ.

Do we recognize him?

Peter said, “This Jesus God raised up, and of that all of us are witnesses.”
Not just the disciples.
You and I, also, are witnesses.
Witnesses who have seen, and who know – who have touched his wounds and been transformed.
Witnesses whose lives have been changed in such a way that others may see, also.

Henry David Thoreau once asked, “With all your science, can you tell me how it is, and whence it is, that light comes into the soul?”
Not with knowledge, but with experience.
Knowledge tells us about.
Experience makes it ours.

May we each reach out to touch the wounds of Christ in this creation, and find the experience which renders speech inadequate even as it lights our soul, so that our witness, like that of Thomas, is a reverent: My Lord and my God.
Amen.