Today is Juneteenth. It marks the day, after the end of the Civil war, when slaves in Texas finally found out they were free. Union soldiers arrived and told them.
The Emancipation Proclamation was two years before, but word of it hadn't reached Texas--no cable news or cell phones or emails, remember.
June 19th has been celebrated by visiting graves, picnics and lots of singing ever since.
It is a day 'holy' to African Americans.
Which is why the President's plan to hold a rally on Juneteenth in Tulsa caused such an uproar.
As did Tulsa, the scene of some of the most vicious racial violence a century ago when whites burned black homes and businesses and churches to the ground and murdered several hundred people.
The President went on Fox News to tell people he had brought knowledge of Juneteenth to the country. The truth was, he didn't know what June 19th was about.
He asked an aid in the White House if they knew what Juneteenth was and she told him the White House staff sent out a press release on June 19 every year celebrating the day.
He didn't know that.
I have held people of color in my heart today (my way of 'praying') and held the protestors there as well.
This could--I said 'could'--be a time of a great reckoning and renewal for our country. Things could change drastically and for the much better.
I pray so. I will do what I can to make it happen, as little as that might be.
I urge you to as well.
We could find the end of the rainbow this time--peace, equality, freedom, hope and wonder.
(The opinions in this blog are mine and mine only and do not reflect on the opinions of the churches and people I serve.)
Friday, June 19, 2020
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Elsie Flink
When I arrived at St. John's, Waterbury, in 1989, Elsie Flink was already there--well in her 80's--and had been for decades. She was born in Germany or Sweden (I don't remember) and came to this country when she was a young girl.
She had broken her leg and was sitting on the Green when the Rector of St. John's at that time, it may have been John Lewis, who was Rector for 40 years, met her and invited her to church, She came, and stayed.
She was a server in St. John's elderly lunch, serving people years younger than herself, which lasted until the soup kitchen took over the auditorium.
She was in the choir, as well. By far the oldest member.
She was feisty and argumentative, but gentle at her core. I came to love her greatly.
She'd spent decades working at one of Waterbury's watch factories. For years she painted the faces of clocks and watches. Since the women doing that needed their brushes sharp, they would run them between their teeth, not knowing the paint, to stick to metal, has radium in it. Many of the women died young, but not Elsie! She was a 'radium girl', she would say, and show us how her clothes would lose their color after a few wearings....Amazing.
She lived in an apartment at the other end of the Green from the church, and walked, in all weather to church.
She lived to be, I think, 101.
And lived alone until her hospital stay that led to her death.
Remarkable.
Once I was driving her somewhere and though I knew she had serious macular degeneration, she told me stories of the areas we drove through.
I realized she could see out of the side of her eyes and had perfect recall of the places we passed.
The day she died, she told me in the hospital that she would never go into a 'home'. I believed her. As I left, a social worker was coming to talk to her. I asked the social worker what she had come to say and she told me, "I want to talk with her about a nursing home".
I shook my head and smiled. "That will kill her," I said.
The social worker laughed.
When I got back to the church the phone was ringing. It was the hospital calling to let me know Elsie died while the social worker was talking with her.
True to her word--as always--Elsie did what she said she would do.
How many of us can say the same about ourselves?
After her funeral, some members of the parish and I were cleaning out her apartment--she had no family and her only brother had died in WW I! We found weird stuff--Rosicrucian books and even stranger things. I had no idea! We also found pictures and letters pointing to a long tern love relationship with another woman. Elsie, ahead of her time.
She kept her secrets well.
God bless her for that.
I loved her and still think of her.
Elsie, wherever you are, I love you.
(This blog is only my opinions and have nothing to do with the three churches I serve.)
She had broken her leg and was sitting on the Green when the Rector of St. John's at that time, it may have been John Lewis, who was Rector for 40 years, met her and invited her to church, She came, and stayed.
She was a server in St. John's elderly lunch, serving people years younger than herself, which lasted until the soup kitchen took over the auditorium.
She was in the choir, as well. By far the oldest member.
She was feisty and argumentative, but gentle at her core. I came to love her greatly.
She'd spent decades working at one of Waterbury's watch factories. For years she painted the faces of clocks and watches. Since the women doing that needed their brushes sharp, they would run them between their teeth, not knowing the paint, to stick to metal, has radium in it. Many of the women died young, but not Elsie! She was a 'radium girl', she would say, and show us how her clothes would lose their color after a few wearings....Amazing.
She lived in an apartment at the other end of the Green from the church, and walked, in all weather to church.
She lived to be, I think, 101.
And lived alone until her hospital stay that led to her death.
Remarkable.
Once I was driving her somewhere and though I knew she had serious macular degeneration, she told me stories of the areas we drove through.
I realized she could see out of the side of her eyes and had perfect recall of the places we passed.
The day she died, she told me in the hospital that she would never go into a 'home'. I believed her. As I left, a social worker was coming to talk to her. I asked the social worker what she had come to say and she told me, "I want to talk with her about a nursing home".
I shook my head and smiled. "That will kill her," I said.
The social worker laughed.
When I got back to the church the phone was ringing. It was the hospital calling to let me know Elsie died while the social worker was talking with her.
True to her word--as always--Elsie did what she said she would do.
How many of us can say the same about ourselves?
After her funeral, some members of the parish and I were cleaning out her apartment--she had no family and her only brother had died in WW I! We found weird stuff--Rosicrucian books and even stranger things. I had no idea! We also found pictures and letters pointing to a long tern love relationship with another woman. Elsie, ahead of her time.
She kept her secrets well.
God bless her for that.
I loved her and still think of her.
Elsie, wherever you are, I love you.
(This blog is only my opinions and have nothing to do with the three churches I serve.)
Tuesday, June 16, 2020
I've been in trouble a lot
As a priest, I'm used to hot water.
The Bishop who convinced me to come back to West Virginia after seminary, though I'd been offered a job at a huge Church in Chicago, Robert Atkinson (rest his soul) had two nick-names for me. "My rogue priest" and "my personal fire starter". (I liked both, by the way.)
I came to Charleston, WV, to serve a mostly Black church, St. James in Charleston. St. James sponsored a day care in Institute, where my son went .The kids exchanged Christmas ornaments and Josh got a strawberry. He was gravely disappointed.
It's still on our tree every Christmas.
Anyway, the chancellor of the Diocese (that's the lawyer for the Diocese) told a colleague, also an episcopalian, that the day care was run by 'uppity Negreas'. And she told me.
I told the vestry of St. James and they demanded that the Bishop fire him.
In a meeting with the Vestry, the Bishop told them the chancellor had said "Negeas", not the N-word and that since the man was from South-Western Virginia that was the pronunciation of 'Negroes' there.
I remember a member of the Vestry filling his pipe--people still smoked in public places back then--while saying, "Bishop, 'negreas' isn't the problem. It's 'uppity'.
The chancellor resigned.
Then, at the next diocesan convention, the bishop gave the former chancellor the 'bishop's medal of honor'. I fainted and fell down on the floor. EMT's interrupted the convention to take me to the hospital. J.F. (St. James' representative) and my friend Jorge were at my bedside when I woke up.
"Pretty impressive," Jorge said.
Bishop Atkinson gave me some of the best advice I've ever been given. I called him one day and said "bishop, is it ok if I....". He stopped me right there. "Jim," he said, "if you ask and I say 'no' and you do it anyway, which you probably will, l have to come down on you hard. If you just go do it and I don't approve, I'll just slap your hand."
Great advice. I've followed it ever since.
Then, years later, at St. John's in Waterbury, CT, I had put in the bulletin--"all are invited to receive communion"--which is what I always said, but writing it down really troubled a member of the parish and member of the choir, who complained to choir members who told me.
I went to him (knowing full well that under 'canon law', only baptized people can receive communion) and asked him about it. He denied he had said it and was angry with me.
A week later I received a letter from the bishop telling me to take it out of the bulletin.
I did, but you see, in my first 5 of 21 years there, I had baptized 5 people who came to the font because they had received at the table. If the font leads to the table, why can't the table lead to the font?
By the way, I never again acted on second hand information. If you have a problem with me, tell me.
Then, years later, I invited Integrity (GLBTQ Episcopalians) to use St. John's as their home.
Three (you guessed it) older white men were furious. A retired priest in the parish was Integrity's chaplain and he sat in on my private meetings with them. They were brutal.
So, with the other priest's advice, I drug the whole thing out into the open in parish wide meetings.
At the first one, one of the most respected members of the parish rose and shook his finger at the three. "My son is gay," he said, "and I am horrified that you think my son is evil."
That ended it.
The three left the parish and one came back with apologies I accepted.
I'm used to trouble.
I'm the 'rogue priest'.
I'm the 'fire starter'.
I like that.
(Everything I write here is 'my own opinion" only and does not reflect on the churches I serve.)
The Bishop who convinced me to come back to West Virginia after seminary, though I'd been offered a job at a huge Church in Chicago, Robert Atkinson (rest his soul) had two nick-names for me. "My rogue priest" and "my personal fire starter". (I liked both, by the way.)
I came to Charleston, WV, to serve a mostly Black church, St. James in Charleston. St. James sponsored a day care in Institute, where my son went .The kids exchanged Christmas ornaments and Josh got a strawberry. He was gravely disappointed.
It's still on our tree every Christmas.
Anyway, the chancellor of the Diocese (that's the lawyer for the Diocese) told a colleague, also an episcopalian, that the day care was run by 'uppity Negreas'. And she told me.
I told the vestry of St. James and they demanded that the Bishop fire him.
In a meeting with the Vestry, the Bishop told them the chancellor had said "Negeas", not the N-word and that since the man was from South-Western Virginia that was the pronunciation of 'Negroes' there.
I remember a member of the Vestry filling his pipe--people still smoked in public places back then--while saying, "Bishop, 'negreas' isn't the problem. It's 'uppity'.
The chancellor resigned.
Then, at the next diocesan convention, the bishop gave the former chancellor the 'bishop's medal of honor'. I fainted and fell down on the floor. EMT's interrupted the convention to take me to the hospital. J.F. (St. James' representative) and my friend Jorge were at my bedside when I woke up.
"Pretty impressive," Jorge said.
Bishop Atkinson gave me some of the best advice I've ever been given. I called him one day and said "bishop, is it ok if I....". He stopped me right there. "Jim," he said, "if you ask and I say 'no' and you do it anyway, which you probably will, l have to come down on you hard. If you just go do it and I don't approve, I'll just slap your hand."
Great advice. I've followed it ever since.
Then, years later, at St. John's in Waterbury, CT, I had put in the bulletin--"all are invited to receive communion"--which is what I always said, but writing it down really troubled a member of the parish and member of the choir, who complained to choir members who told me.
I went to him (knowing full well that under 'canon law', only baptized people can receive communion) and asked him about it. He denied he had said it and was angry with me.
A week later I received a letter from the bishop telling me to take it out of the bulletin.
I did, but you see, in my first 5 of 21 years there, I had baptized 5 people who came to the font because they had received at the table. If the font leads to the table, why can't the table lead to the font?
By the way, I never again acted on second hand information. If you have a problem with me, tell me.
Then, years later, I invited Integrity (GLBTQ Episcopalians) to use St. John's as their home.
Three (you guessed it) older white men were furious. A retired priest in the parish was Integrity's chaplain and he sat in on my private meetings with them. They were brutal.
So, with the other priest's advice, I drug the whole thing out into the open in parish wide meetings.
At the first one, one of the most respected members of the parish rose and shook his finger at the three. "My son is gay," he said, "and I am horrified that you think my son is evil."
That ended it.
The three left the parish and one came back with apologies I accepted.
I'm used to trouble.
I'm the 'rogue priest'.
I'm the 'fire starter'.
I like that.
(Everything I write here is 'my own opinion" only and does not reflect on the churches I serve.)
Monday, June 15, 2020
Water walkers all
I was looking through my sermons in my on-line file and came across this one. I was attracted by the title, 'Water walkers all', so I read it.
It's really just notes, not a written out sermon, but I liked the quotes so much I decided to share it. It's from 2014.
And where it says "tell story", I have no idea what story I told.
Preachers don't remember their sermons much. Sermons are 'in the moment' things and slip away rapidly. I always smile and nod when people talk about a sermon I gave 3 weeks ago, but I usually don't remember it. When I give a sermon without a text and Bea asks me to send it do her, I have to do it Sunday afternoon, or I'm clueless!
But I like all the quotes in this outline so much, I wanted to share it.
It's really just notes, not a written out sermon, but I liked the quotes so much I decided to share it. It's from 2014.
And where it says "tell story", I have no idea what story I told.
Preachers don't remember their sermons much. Sermons are 'in the moment' things and slip away rapidly. I always smile and nod when people talk about a sermon I gave 3 weeks ago, but I usually don't remember it. When I give a sermon without a text and Bea asks me to send it do her, I have to do it Sunday afternoon, or I'm clueless!
But I like all the quotes in this outline so much, I wanted to share it.
WATER WALKERS ALL
“The crisis of faith is the crisis of the imagination. If we
can't imagine ourselves walking on the water with Jesus, how can we ever do it?”
--Denise Levertov at a meeting of poets and theologians.
*Jesus calls us to be water walkers, to come to him on the water.
*tell story.
-Sea of Galilee is really a lake, but the Mediterranean Sea is only 50
miles away. Warm, wet air from the Mediterranean comes in contact with the high
places and cold air of the Golan Heights to the East of Galilee and unexpected
storms can occur without warning.
-that's what happens to the disciples.
-when they see Jesus walking toward them, they are terrified. But he
says, “Do not fear, it is I, do not be afraid.”
What he said in Greek was “ego eimi” which means literally “I am, I am”
just what Yahweh told Moses when he asked what God's name was. Those Jews in
that boat knew that.
Peter goes for him and sinks.
Jesus asked “Why did you doubt?”
But it wasn't 'doubt' that was
the problem...it was FEAR.
FEAR is our worst enemy...always and every time. FEAR dismantles us,
makes us weak and sinks us in the sea.
St. Cyril of Jerusalem: THERE IS A DRAGON BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD,
BEWARE LEST HE DEVOUR YOU. WE JOURNEY TO THE LOVER OF SOULS, BUT WE MUST PASS
BY OUR DRAGON.
Comforting our children after nightmares...do not fear, I'm here, don't
be afraid
When we walk on the edge, of all the light we have
and step off into the unknown,
we must believe that one of two things will happen:
There will be something solid for us to stand on
or we will be taught how to fly.
Water walkers for Jesus, stepping into the unknown for God, trusting
the Spirit will give us somewhere to stand or teach us to fly.
(The thoughts in all my posts are mine alone--having nothing to do with the 3 rural churches I serve part-time.)
Sunday, June 14, 2020
Patient Zero
My dear friend, Rabbi Terry Bookman is in the hospital in NYC with Covid 19.
We've worked together for well over 20 years in the Mastery Foundation. As our leader, Anne is starting to retire, Terry has taken over managing the Making a Difference workshop which I help lead.
He is a dear and tender man, with great character and a commitment to ministry.
He usually lives out west but comes to NYC from time to time because he has family there.
I don't know how serious he is yet, but he's a fighter.
We sound like the beginning of a joke: 'A rabbi and a priest walk into a bar....'
Which we've done from time to time.
I pray the God we both worship in our own ways will heal him and make him whole.
He is the first person I know well who has contacted the virus. My patient zero.
(The thoughts in this blog are mine and mine alone and not meant to reflect thoughts of the people I serve in MACM.)
We've worked together for well over 20 years in the Mastery Foundation. As our leader, Anne is starting to retire, Terry has taken over managing the Making a Difference workshop which I help lead.
He is a dear and tender man, with great character and a commitment to ministry.
He usually lives out west but comes to NYC from time to time because he has family there.
I don't know how serious he is yet, but he's a fighter.
We sound like the beginning of a joke: 'A rabbi and a priest walk into a bar....'
Which we've done from time to time.
I pray the God we both worship in our own ways will heal him and make him whole.
He is the first person I know well who has contacted the virus. My patient zero.
(The thoughts in this blog are mine and mine alone and not meant to reflect thoughts of the people I serve in MACM.)
Three good things
Two of the churches I serve have decided to wait until after Labor Day to re-open, if then, giving the circumstances then.
The other church vestry has figured out a way to meet remotely tomorrow (Monday) and the Senior Warden says he things they'll do the same.
This proves the three things I've always know about these churches: they are cautious, caring and smart!
"Cautious"--no too quick decisions to regret later. And if caution was ever called for, it is now.
"Caring"--one of the reasons for the caution is because they genuinely care about their members. They don't want to expose vulnerable people whom the love to danger.
"Smart"--we see what rushing back to 'normal' is doing around the country. New spikes of the virus in states that wanted to move quickly. I've always know these folks are smart--this proves it.
So Zoom and FaceTime services for the rest of June, July, August and the first Sunday of September.
It's working well and numbers are still impressive.
And no one has to risk their health and lives.
I love these three churches.
And admire them greatly.
(This blog is my beliefs and should not be thought to be the opinions of all the people in the three churches.)
The other church vestry has figured out a way to meet remotely tomorrow (Monday) and the Senior Warden says he things they'll do the same.
This proves the three things I've always know about these churches: they are cautious, caring and smart!
"Cautious"--no too quick decisions to regret later. And if caution was ever called for, it is now.
"Caring"--one of the reasons for the caution is because they genuinely care about their members. They don't want to expose vulnerable people whom the love to danger.
"Smart"--we see what rushing back to 'normal' is doing around the country. New spikes of the virus in states that wanted to move quickly. I've always know these folks are smart--this proves it.
So Zoom and FaceTime services for the rest of June, July, August and the first Sunday of September.
It's working well and numbers are still impressive.
And no one has to risk their health and lives.
I love these three churches.
And admire them greatly.
(This blog is my beliefs and should not be thought to be the opinions of all the people in the three churches.)
Chilly nights
I didn't sleep well last night. I kept waking up cold.
Tonight I closed the window by my bed and will use a blanket.
It's already 50 in Cheshire at 9:27 p.m.
I was worried a bit mid-morning because I was chilling. But I put on a sweater and all was well.
Hardly what we think about when we think of June.
I'm glad it's not hot but waking up cold isn't so great.
Plus, I'm on a new medicine--an every three week injection my Oncologist gives me. She warned me it could make me feel quite tired. Today was the first day that it happened.
Not helped by not sleeping well.
Oh, well, closed window and blanket I should make up for it tonight.
(The ideas in this blog are purely mine and not those of the three churches I serve.)
Tonight I closed the window by my bed and will use a blanket.
It's already 50 in Cheshire at 9:27 p.m.
I was worried a bit mid-morning because I was chilling. But I put on a sweater and all was well.
Hardly what we think about when we think of June.
I'm glad it's not hot but waking up cold isn't so great.
Plus, I'm on a new medicine--an every three week injection my Oncologist gives me. She warned me it could make me feel quite tired. Today was the first day that it happened.
Not helped by not sleeping well.
Oh, well, closed window and blanket I should make up for it tonight.
(The ideas in this blog are purely mine and not those of the three churches I serve.)
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