Dear Friends in Christ Jesus:

“Whose woods these are, I think I know,”

So begins Robert Frost’s immortal Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. I was put in mind of that poem recently as I meditated upon our life together as the Church while sitting beneath some trees alongside a river. Woods- the forest- is an apt icon and metaphor for the Church- one as durable as, say, Church-as-sheepfold, or Church-as-boat. Church-as-woods provides splendid meditative fodder.

Consider:

Trees thrive best as a forest, not as individuals. The strength in this is obvious, as are the weaknesses.....growing the forest is easier the larger the forest gets....storms damage the edges of the forest while those trees deeper in the woods are spared.....disease spreads more quickly in a densely populated community than in a sparsely populated community.....the deaths of trees anywhere in the forest diminish the whole, and yet that detritus feeds and nourishes those who remain living....trees are habitat for lives not their own alone, and yet the forest is richer for the diversity of life it holds.........there is a cost and a promise in everything, I suppose.

Woods as metaphor for Church works.                                                                                   

Sometimes we forget that we are the woods, and that we do in fact know whose woods we are. The cares and preoccupations of the World, the countervailing values with which we are bombarded from myriad sources, our own hurts and un-surrendered resentments, the simple passage of time during which nothing remarkable seems to be happening (this dulled sense of the daily-remarkable is so hurtful)- all of these can dull our senses as individual trees in the wood, and our corporate sense of being the woods. We get invited/seduced/confused into being that which we are not- something other than God’s woods.

As Autumn comes to the Woods, and there is some sense of sap returning to the Earth whence it derives nourishment, restoration, and strength, we have an opportunity to begin again....to recall yet again ourselves as God’s Woods. Surely, meteorology and climate teach us this in one way. The liturgical calendar is another way…our rhythms of Christian education, stewardship…snowbirds leaving us- all of it provides a re-set option.

Louise Dickinson Rich withdrew to the woods of western Maine in the 1930s in disgust- exhausted with the shallowness, mean-spiritedness, distrust, and skepticism she perceived in her urban life. She went into the Woods and eventually “became them” in the restoration of her soul- being not a hermit but rather a member of a community better suited to her life and health. Rich, with Frost, understood the opportunity not just of Autumn but indeed of all seasons. She wrote of the Graces of her life and the restoration of her soul in living in/as the Woods when she wrote: “When humanity gets tired enough of being hounded from pillar to post, when the powerful have sufficiently persecuted the weak and the envious weak have sufficiently obstructed the strong, perhaps our way of life will come to seem the true one, the good one...”^[1] 

What Louise Dickinson Rich wrote of her own restoration is true of the life of the Church as well- “When humanity gets tired enough of being hounded from pillar to post, when the powerful have sufficiently persecuted the weak and the envious weak have sufficiently obstructed the strong, perhaps our way of life will come to seem the true one, the good one...”

Though Louise Dickinson Rich never would have characterized it as such, these words are deep and hopeful prayer....spoken from that vantage of having the community to which she best and most authentically belongs around her. May her prayer be ours as the non-Summer rhythms of life in God’s Woods here take hold, and we celebrate that.

Love you. See you in Church.

FBC3+

“Change is not made without inconvenience, even from worse to better.”

 -Richard Hooker

Hooker’s observation seems so self-evident as to sound trite.

We toss off change, not fully examining its import. If we’re honest, we do this because we’re giving the quick intellectual assent of avoidance. Not wanting to be inconvenienced by change, we acknowledge that the maxim is so, and move on, passively avoiding, and passive-aggressively resisting, change. We express our true preference, which is always to be the agent of change while never being changed ourselves.

Our traditions, both secular and sacred, inform us that change is inevitable.

The preface to the 1549 edition (and subsequent editions as well) of The Book of Common Prayer makes plain, for example, that our modes of worship will change, that such change is expected, and that it is desirable. Even with this gracious provision in place, we have seen the agitated annoyance, consternation, conflict and cultivated brutish ignorance emergent in some quarters of The Church caused by revisions of The Book of Common Prayer.

No less holy a document than The Constitution of The United States anticipates change- the entirety of Article V is devoted to nothing more than how to change the Constitution…and as we have seen in response to changes in the Church, so also we have seen in the “civil body politic[1]”- annoyance, consternation, conflict and cultivated brutish ignorance.

Yep. Change is inevitable, the documents we cherish as holy keep telling us so, and they make provision for it

That said, we usually do not like or seek change. The human condition usually seeks and finds a level of comfort with the circumstances and conditions of life, and then, maintains those conditions as a matter of “enlightened self-interest” (perhaps indolent selfishness, tinged with exhausted/exhausting fear?). The eternal Truths we say we want to express may actually be our own level of comfort, seeking everlasting expression in the World. We strive for “security” when what we mean is “status quo.”

There is a particular virulence to this human characteristic among Church people. Truth be told, we do not like the changes the Incarnation brings. Jesus’ birth is a living example of Hooker’s utterance- an enfleshed example of “…he is inconvenient to us[2].” Despite our longings for prophecy’s fulfillment, when The Messiah finally comes, He is never quite what we want it. When He appears, He asks something of us. Living in a world that we experience as beyond our control in many areas, we do not want to be asked to change those areas over which we do have some control (relationships, money, religious practice, appropriate physical self-care, you name it).

As Christmas comes, we are confronted with the inconvenience of The Christ as much as with manageable-sweet-little-Jesus-boy-in-a manger. Christmas is annoying not because of its self-imposed maniacal schedule, but because of the changes it presages in us. A good preparation during Advent is an examination that sorts out where you are resisting inevitable change in your life, and why. Knowing when resistance to change is Godly, and when it is selfish, is the discernment of a wise heart….and oh so hard that discernment can be!

The quiet expectation…the meditative, reflective moment …the unrushed prayer of Advent gives an opening for this discernment. It teaches us something: it teaches that being changed in heart and soul and spirit by The Christ may seem inconvenient, but the alternative is sheer agony- the sheer agony of the Cross, where the unchanged, ungodly resistance of humanity to God is changed in the death of the baby whose birth we expect. Our inconvenience at Christmas makes Good Friday necessary. Hmmmmmm. Is there a better way to respond to the changes our faith invites in us?

Repent, and prepare the way. He is coming. Be ready.

FBC3+ 

“There is only one Church in The Diocese”[1] of New Jersey- just one. There are 158 local manifestations of that one Church, but there is only one Church.

This stark reality means that a large part of our stewardship of God’s resources has to do with looking after and funding and praying for people we rarely if ever meet. We do our part as a parish (one of those 158 manifestations of the one Church in The Diocese of New Jersey) by crafting our Budget in such a way that we make our contribution to the diocesan budget, honoring our commitment to that one Church. Our diocesan pledge asking is derived from figures we report about our communicant strength and local budget here in Beach Haven; from our own self-reported data, our annual Fair Share is calculated. The diocese forwards this to the Rector, Church Wardens, and Vestry who decide such allocations of the Parish’s resources.

Persons unaware or perhaps new to The Episcopal Church may ask, “What do we get for our diocesan share?” Though a self-referent question, it is a natural one. Our diocesan Fair Share is not about us. It’s about the one Church in New Jersey, whether we receive any direct benefit from the gift or not. The church does not do business that way…quid pro quo…funding going out only in expectation of profit or replacement. Assuming that we will or should “do well by doing good” is a false assumption. As Christ’s Church, we spend money for reasons other than profit or return. We make these offerings because through them we can learn and do the work of Jesus.[2] Our diocesan Fair Share is the sign and pledge of our place in the community, that is the one Church in The Diocese of New Jersey. It’s the responsible part we play as members of a larger household, caring for and accountable to one another. So there’ll be no question, though, let me outline some of “the things we get for our diocesan pledge”:

You get a priest. All dioceses play a part in the education as well as in the placement of clergy. Seminary is breathtakingly expensive. Priests are priests of the whole Church, not of the Parish only, and we as the Church take corporate, not local, responsibility for selection, education, and placement of clergy throughout the one Church that is The Diocese of New Jersey.

You get a bishop.  That’s what it means to be an “episcopal” Church. The Bishop is chief pastor of the Diocese, principal pastor to the clergy, the overseer [and corporation sole in some cases] of the Church. The Bishop mediates disputes, ordains, Confirms, serves clergy, and is the living symbol of unity of the Church. When the bishops of the Church meet as a House, or at Lambeth, it is our bishop who speaks with the voice of New Jersey.

You get administrative support that simply cannot be done effectively at the parochial level- administration of insurances for Church property and clergy, as well as Church Pension Fund accounting and questions, coordination among parishes seeking to do joint ministries and a host of other staffing functions.

You get to do the missionary work and ministry you say you want to do. Funding for small parishes and missions who could not survive without the help, funding for ministries both within and beyond the diocesan boundaries which include college chaplaincy, after school programs for children in the inner cities, and support for the worldwide mission and ministry of the Church come out of our diocesan pledge.

You get communication through the diocesan publications on the web and in print.

You get interim ministry in a vacancy, and provide for the training and coordination of that same professional ministry to other parishes when they are searching for full-time ordained leadership.

You get diocesan resources, in the form of youth work, expert consultation on education, stewardship, building construction and maintenance, etc.

This is not an exhaustive list[3], but it is representative of how we take our place in the one Church that is The Diocese of New Jersey. Our Parish is a splendid example of the one Church’s parochial manifestations. We are pulling our weight in the full payment of our diocesan Fair Share pledge. That is a cause for thanksgiving and righteous humility as much as it might be for crowing and chest-thumping celebration.

Love you. See you in Church.

FBC3+

Beach Haven, November 2010

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

- Theodore Roosevelt, Paris, 23 April 1910

This is the seminal quotation from TR’s “Man in the Arena” speech delivered at the Sorbonne. It holds regard among scholars as one of  his finest post-Presidential orations. Though addressing citizenship in the secular civil body politic, this member of Christ Church, Oyster Bay comments accurately on life in the Church as well. He reminds us  

-that our life of Faith is not a spectator sport

-that we are not in an advisory capacity to God or anyone else until we’re asked

(and God hasn’t asked recently so far as I can tell)

-and that idle talk, unasked advice and commentary, and criticism are cheap, as likely to be incorrect or counterproductive as not, and may be ignorant, mean-spirited and cowardly.

Our Faith invites us onto the dance floor with God, and it is better to step on His feet and follow awkwardly than not be there. Our Faith is expressed in action that would rather risk mistake than inaction assuring safety. Our Faith respects failed effort more than exquisite analysis. Our Faith invites us to live out of the best side of ourselves rather than waiting to remark when someone else doesn’t. Our Faith assures us that it is better to have striven and lost than to have hidden God-given resources for fear of losing them.

When those around you snipe….when they offer criticism meant to hurt you all the while veiling it in pious talk and earnest mien….when they ask a question in arched, measured tones, hoping to embarrass you, all the while innocently smiling….recall TR’s words.

Be of good cheer. If you’re annoying such weak-minded, mean-spirited people, you’re probably in the arena.

The Collect for All Sorts and Conditions of Men provides perspective, and settles and comforts us:

“O God, the creator and preserver of all mankind, we humbly beseech thee for all sorts and conditions of men; that thou wouldst be pleased to make thy ways known unto them, thy saving health unto all nations. More especially we pray for thy holy Church universal; that it may be so guided and governed by thy good Spirit, that all who profess and call themselves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life. Finally, we commend to thy fatherly goodness all those who are in any ways afflicted or distressed, in mind, body, or estate, especially those for whom our prayers are desired, that it may please thee to comfort and relieve them according to their several necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their afflictions. And this we beg for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.”

Love you. See you in Church.

FBC3+

© 2010 Frank B. Crumbaugh III

Monnie Davis Mayes was my maternal grandmother. She thought and prayed much about contentment and gratitude. One of the aphorisms with which she man-smithed me was: “If you don’t like what you have, you won’t like what you want.” Today’s Post-it note from Singapore reminded me of her wisdom.

Contentment often is misconstrued as indolent, lacking ambition, and weak-minded…a pathetic, tepid settling for conditions as they evolve around us…simple-minded rationalizing about what we really want but don’t possess. The ways in which we frame our lives and raise our children make clear that continual upward striving, appearing critically expert and indispensable to the operation of the World, and having more of nearly everything are the measures of our lives. But, as is so often true, our capacity for self-deception and our imprecision in thinking derive these values, and they are, largely, false values.

Contentment is a mature value. It is inextricably linked with gratitude. Contentment, like gratitude, is learned, and way too many people never learn either. I think many if not most see what they think is missing from their lives, and miss completely what’s there. We let what we see dividing us frame our behavior and conversation, and miss entirely the things that unite us as partners, as families, as the Church. We live lives that are over-reactive, and that over-reaction almost always springs from the immature, discontented places in us.

When you focus on what you think is missing, and rationalize that with “Everything can be made better, and I just wanna work toward that,” you may be perpetuating a sickness in yourself...the dynamic equivalent of picking at a sore so that it won't heal. It is a contagious sickness that ruins others as surely as it ruins you. Striving is good and can be noble, but you won’t know it’s noble striving if you never rest, and acknowledge the Graces in your life. Until you can make a full stop, and permit a contented “Thank you” to be the entire sum and substance of your prayer, you will demonstrate to yourself and everyone around you that you haven’t a clue about abiding, Faithful contentment. As long as your life is lived “Yes, but” it will be a life lived proclaiming an ever-anxious and never-contented “No!”

God seems to enjoy you as a part of what He’s got…the data suggest in fact that God enjoys you enough to do whatever it takes- a Cross included- to enjoy having you…but the Cross comes out of love, not a desire for divine self-gratification.

Enjoy what you have- someone who loves you (God Almighty), the breath and health that are yours today (your life), and opportunity (the World)...and enjoy it enough to avoid constantly tuning it. Be content.

Love you. See you in Church.

FBC3+

© 2010 Frank B. Crumbaugh III

There are emergency telephones on the Golden Gate Bridge- ‘phones like this one. This photograph of this particular ‘phone is chastening to all of us who have given our lives to serving other people….physicians, nurses, clergy, first responders, attorneys…a sign like this one gives us all the heeby-jeebies.

Yet, this is inevitable. There will come a time, if it has not already come, when we reach for help, and it isn’t where we look for it. We are steamed-up, keyed-up, messed-up, scared-to-death, feeling hopeless, or just plain stressed-out, and reach for crisis help only to find that The Doctor is: OUT.

When we’re in these crisis moments, we don’t read the fine print, and we don’t immediately think of our choices. After all, the choice we figure we’ve made was to seek help in a place where, as it turns out, it is not available. We don’t see the smaller print on the sign that offers an alternative, and we don’t look down the bridge to the next beam where another emergency ‘phone has been wired…and since we didn’t read the sign or look down the bridge, those choices are unavailable.

The “go-to” people in our lives will disappoint us. That confounds us, and hurts, because they are so dependable- so THERE- the vast majority of the time. This photograph reminds us that an inanimate object can break. It’s a short logical step to recognize that human beings are as, if not more, susceptible to failure than machinery.

Maintenance is key…for ourselves so we need emergency help less often, and for the emergency helpers, so they are able to "be there" as dependably as a human being can be.

Love you. See you in Church.

FBC3+

© 2010 Frank B. Crumbaugh III