Address
to the 131st Convention of the Diocese of Bethlehem
Bishop Paul V. Marshall
October 18, 2002
It is a privilege to greet the members of the 131st Convention of the Diocese
of Bethlehem. I am particularly gladdened by the presence once again of a delegation
representing our young people.
My participation in the Episcopal Youth Event in Wyoming this summer showed
me yet again that young people committed to Jesus Christ already have the energy
and faith to share the gospel with their peers.
Young Christians were also an emphasis in other ways. Our diocese was able
to host a national training event for the Happening program. As many of you
know, Happening is an intense encounter with Christ and community that this
diocese, with many others, finds to be a central piece of its ministry with
young people. Again, the witness of young Episcopalians from all over the United
States testified to the living and mature faith of young adults.
Perhaps even more fun was the School for Kids that took place at St. Luke's
in Scranton and Nativity in Bethlehem. Young children from around the diocese
were encouraged to bring their imaginations along to ask the question, "What
would Harry Potter have learned if he showed up at church?" Besides being
fun for all, it was a reminder that our religion does provide tools for living
every aspect of our lives. The theme of next summer's day for kids is "The
Bishop's Beach Party." I can hardly wait.
Our concern for young people is not limited to Episcopalians, of course, and
the child advocacy program has continued to focus on the quality of Pennsylvania
schools. There is nothing morally wrong with attending private schools - I
went to one myself - but using alternative schools does not absolve us of concern
for the children for whom that is not desired or possible. If northeastern
Pennsylvania's economy is to recover, we need a young people prepared to compete
in increasingly technical workplaces.
One of the joys of the past year has been the growth of our planned giving
ministry. With around a hundred members of the St. Matthew's Society, Nativity
is our clear leader here, and I salute them, but all told there are over three
hundred people, clergy and lay, who have made provision for their parish churches
in their wills. Even if we assume that our people give only one half of the
national average gift, millions of dollars have been designated for the church
in which our children will labor and worship.
The planned giving ministry in the diocese was created by the diocesan Trustees
to benefit each of the parishes. The grant used to fund that ministry has expired,
and we have begun to find ways to keep it going. You will note that half of
it has been included in Council's budget for 2003, and we should have a grant
for the other half in place by January. The original plan and the continued
hope is that, by going into the foundation business ourselves, we can make
this ministry self-supporting.
The budget has been cut back in a number of areas, and you will have noted
that salaries for diocesan staff have been frozen. This was something that
circumstances necessitated, but it should not be taken as a model for parish
budgets where a cost of living increase is a possibility.
We have also trimmed the amount we can devote to congregational development
and ministry through the national Church. Just so you know, the Presiding Bishop
told the assembled bishops last month that they have already cut $10 million
out of the national budget in anticipation of what the dioceses are experiencing
in the current market. So, while we regret limiting salaries and other investments
in ministry, we have the responsibility to be prudent and practical, a responsibility
that is being taken up by the larger Church as well.
We have been living through the distress of an ecclesiastical trial. I cannot
comment on it at any length because the court has yet to consider a sentence.
I simply want to assure people, despite some of what they may have heard, that
our process is deliberately long, complicated, tedious, and weighted in favor
of the accused. The same material must pass through the bishop, the Standing
Committee, the church attorney, and then the Court itself. No individual or
small group can make anything happen. The process is enormously expensive,
and has eaten any cash reserves we might have directed to other goals. I say
all of this simply to assure those of you who have heard various rumors that
it is neither possible nor affordable to enter this process capriciously or
on the say-so of any one group or individual.
Because of the stress on our system right now, I am postponing until next convention
the proposals I have shared with you regarding mutual accountability. In the
meantime, let me remind you that audits are not an option, and that all members
of each parish are entitled to complete information about its corporate life.
The heaviest moments of the last year were the closing of our new mission in
Womelsdorf and our very old church in Birdsboro. A number of you in smaller
parishes have been very blunt in asking, "Are we next?" I need to
repeat what I wrote last summer, that in Birdsboro a combination of physical,
personnel, and financial factors necessitated this closing. Chief among them
was a generations-old negative witness to the gospel.
The House of Bishops has issued a particularly strong statement on the AIDS
crisis in Africa. As you know, a number of parishes along with Ned Wallace,
our medical missioner, have been committed to service here. Nonetheless, I
must tell you that when I visited Swaziland two years ago, the HIV infection
rate among pregnant women was 29%; now it is 34%. The destruction of the work
force and the creation of more than 14 million orphans - up from 10 million
two years ago -- create an enormous burden on any country, but particularly
so on developing nations. We have the duty to contribute ourselves, as we shall
with our convention offering, but an even greater duty to mobilize governmental
and non-governmental agencies and businesses to make the contribution they
have the ability to make. In the United States HIV is or can be largely contained,
although not cured. This is not the case in Africa, and I hope Americans can
come to believe that African lives are as valuable as our own. I placed copies
of the bishops' statement at the World Mission table. I ask that you pick one
up and read it.
Having said that, it is important to celebrate some of the life abundantly
dwelling among us. Epiphany in Clarks Summit has built a school for African
pygmies who were suddenly driven out of their homes and community. Members
of that parish were present with the school this summer. Christ Church in Reading
again had a magnificent Festival of the Arts with their Lutheran partners.
Their Center for Spirituality and Healing and the Center for Spiritual Growth
of Trinity in Bethlehem serve many hungry souls. In addition to the on-going
clinic at St. Stephen's, Wilkes-Barre, a dozen of our parishes are at the beginning
stages of health-care ministries. Trinity in Pottsville provides a wonderful
example of what parish nursing can be. The number of churches hosting after-school
programs is growing. In a few minutes we will be recognizing the "Flying
High" program at St. Paul's in Troy, a program that has attracted a broad
base of community support. Life does, indeed, go on when we make room for God.
The World Mission Committee had something of a boost this summer when a team
visited our sisters and brothers from the diocese of Kajo-Keji in the refugee
camps in Uganda and in battle-torn Southern Sudan itself. As had been my experience
in the AIDS clinics in Swaziland, they found the situation there one that changed
their perspective on all of life. Please give careful attention to their presentation
tomorrow morning.
It gives me particular joy, at long last, to say that Council has authorized
a camping program for our young people for next summer, and that preparations
are under way, in the hands of Father Ed Erb and Father Earl Trygar, both veterans
of many years' work with scouting and family camping. We will be working with
the Lutherans at their 3,000-acre site.
Rather than inserting the note I have usually made about my own pilgrimage,
I want to tie these observations together with something a bit more global.
Jesus was something of a party animal. at least for an introvert. Biblical
scholar John Meier points out that the main difference between the preaching
of John the Baptist and that of Jesus was that where John the Baptist saw threat
and judgment Jesus urged people to "rejoice" at the coming of the
reign of God. Jesus went to parties, dinners, and wedding receptions. He invited
the rejects, outcasts, and foreigners to a place at God's table. He was aware
that many good, serious people criticized him as one "who came eating
and drinking" when they thought he should have been more serious. He noted
that they simultaneously criticized John for being too serious.
It is impossible to refute a sneer: if people are out to get you, there isn't
much you can do about it; so Jesus simply stuck to his mission. His creed seemed
to be: Know who you are, know what you are about, and, as they say, just do
it. But this is more easily said than done, so a party every now and then is
called for, a truth Jesus knew and lived. Whether we are party animals or not,
we take the trouble to come eating and drinking, week-in and week-out, to commemorate
Christ with a meal. Church services would be a lot simpler without the eucharist,
certainly more restful. The eucharist makes me get up out of my pew, get in
a line with others, and have my personal space invaded by someone passing around
the morsel outrageously named "bread of heaven" and the wine outrageously
named "cup of salvation."
Of the many sublime benefits of Holy Communion, the simplest is the experience
that, no matter how grim things may be, we are called to Christ's table. The
ancient words are still true: Happy are those called to the marriage supper
of the Lamb. Christ is really present because he "really" wants to
be at our side, wants our life to be one of abundance and joy.
I'm not saying this merely to fill time. The eucharist has begun to penetrate
my skull in a new way these last few months, rather as a life jacket would
hold new interest for a drowning person when one floated by.
Like most Americans, I have found the last year to be very draining. We meet
here, indeed, in very uncertain times politically and economically and internationally.
As I have spelled out earlier in this talk, we have in our diocese faced a
record number of traumas. Some are far from resolution. Our national church
body is troubled by a number of conflicts, as is the Anglican Communion itself.
Our sisters and brothers in Sudan continue to experience persecution of the
most bloody kind, and there is a very real chance that Palestinian Christianity
will be driven to extinction. On top of all that, I have had to tell you that
there is less money around. Yet the voice says, "happy" - happy are
those called to the marriage supper of the Lamb. It is hard to be morose when
Christ comes to meet us, slyly smiling.
Compared with the challenges faced by the Sudanese, our life together is not
threatened at its very core, but things are difficult enough. When times are
difficult, it is easy to become focused on putting out the fires. I am certainly
guilty of that from time to time. This focus on the fires is the entry way
for the Tempter, who loves to see us so distracted by our duties that we lose
our vision and fill our tanks with anxiety. Unless we discipline our attitudes,
we can be consumed by our sense of danger and imminent doom.
The idea that your mind can "dwell on" something is interesting because
it asks a good question: Where do you park your brain, in the museum or in
the trash heap? You know the old joke that if your only tool is a hammer, every
problem looks like a nail. That's what is true about attitude, but in a positive
as well as a negative sense. Last Sunday's epistle labored to convince us that
if we force ourselves, if we force ourselves, if we force ourselves to give
attention to what is good, honorable, or praiseworthy, the result will be that
God's peace will be ours. You can pay thousands of dollars to learn that truth
on a couch (it's called cognitive therapy) or you can get it for free from
St. Paul. Either way, it's true.
So I say with particular energy that it is precisely when times are tough that
we need to return to our dreams, to celebrate our vision. Every one of the
issues we face is real. But even more real is our calling in the risen Christ.
Our connection with the Swazis, the Ugandans, the Nigerians, and the Sudanese
teach us over and over that life trusting Christ is joy, even in the most difficult
times, just as they are doing. And they keep doing it.
Before the distractions and duties of the last twelve months, where were we?
We were planning new parishes. We were anticipating new ministry to the thousands
of people moving into Pike and Wayne counties. We were advocating strongly
in Washington for the suffering Christian population of the southern Sudan.
We were about to (and did) host a national youth event in Wilkes-Barre. We
were enthusiastically pursuing possibilities for a camping program and conference
center. We increasingly felt ourselves to be one. We were looking toward the
next Share the Bread event. It's time to get back to work, to recall the vision
and pursue it - even in uncertain circumstances.
In Bethlehem we were an ideal target for attack: too much good was going on.
It seems to be the rule that the more important the work you are doing, the
more likely you are to face opposition, both from the internal resistance of
the system and from the dark forces in the world that are threatened when too
much light shines.
It doesn't matter what your theology is. Perhaps you believe that for each
action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Perhaps you believe that any
organism, from snail darter to parish community, will push back when homeostasis,
its familiar balance, is threatened. Perhaps you believe that a personal Satan
attacks us when we are doing important work for God. Maybe you just believe
in entropy, and believe the expanding universe privileges randomness or chaos
or decay.
Whether you are Carl Sagan or Mother Teresa, any way you look at it, when we
try to advance, there is that which will push back. We ought not get too upset
that our corporate life has been threatened. The story of Jesus is in part
the story about how when you are trying to do your best, you may get crucified.
I say this again: the simple fact of the matter is what our Sudanese brothers
and sisters would tell us in the lulls between the bombings and as they pick
their way through the mine fields. They would say that the cross is only where
the story begins to get interesting -- Jesus Christ is alive and has triumphed
over the worst that can be done to anyone. His victory is our victory and our
power. We dare not act as though there were a more potent reality than that
fact. That would be false witness. The Resurrection of Jesus is the definitive
thrust against entropy, reactivity, and evil.
As I have tried to point out, despite our troubles, great things have been
going on around us. Several of our parishes are growing at such a rate that
they face the challenge of immediately expanding either their plant or their
staff, perhaps both. New Bethany Ministries once again overcame obstacles that
would stop less committed people cold.
Our clergy are becoming a more richly diverse band of colleagues. St. Elizabeth's
Church in Allentown has followed the Spirit's call to become a mission in a
new place, creatively disturbing our sense of business as usual. We have just
brought to ordination six holy and focused people who give themselves to their
priesthood. People in high school and college are asking about church work
again, and we will have an event for them on December 28 called "Minds
on Ministry." There are the beginnings of campus ministry. Perhaps most
magnificently, St. James in Schuylkill Haven has restored not only its historic
structure, but also its inner life.
You have a choice. I have a choice. We can build our common life around our
fears or around our faith. Our fears or our faith. I know too well the temptations
to gloom; biology, nurture, and habit force me that way all too often. I also
know the beautiful faith and joyful self-giving of quite literally thousands
of people in this diocesan community, and know that I must have in myself the
habit of mind that was in Christ Jesus; for the joy that was set before him,
he undertook the most remarkable ministry the world has ever seen.
As an "episcopal" church, we define our lives in the large unit,
the diocese rather than the congregation. The ancient wisdom behind this understanding
of Church is one that keeps our perspectives broad and our sense of mission
directed beyond our back yards. We work together to share not just the burdens,
but also the power, the encouragement, the victory we have in Christ.
Tomorrow morning our eucharistic celebration this will be just that: a celebration
of all Christ empowers us to be, a celebration of our trust in his care for
us, our knowledge that in the most trying of situations, Jesus of Nazareth
calls us to a party. The Sudanese in the room would say, Amen. What will you
and I say? Rejoicing with the community of believers when every fiber of your
body is begging to withdraw and cut off is God's remedy for the distraught.
I suspect that history will giggle that many Christian denominations eliminated
the hymn "Onward Christian Soldiers" from their hymnals in the late
20th century, thinking that this would change the world. (The Episcopal Church
kept it, by the way: it's number 562.) It is too soon to know where that will
ultimately lead.
Since war is in the air in the United States, however, let me say something
about the less publicized conflicts. We too easily forget - because it's painful
to remember -- that there are several wars going on, wars we may not be winning.
One is the war for our souls, which goes on every day in our increasingly anti-religious
culture. The other war is the global conflict that all women and men of good
will must engage in with all that impoverishes, enslaves, or debases human
beings, with all that keeps them from knowing God's peace in Jesus Christ.
Unless and until we raise the def-con level of those struggles, and take them
up with the radically peaceful tools that Christ has given us, the churches
will lie in defeat, and deserve to. It is important to note that the flourishing
and growing churches in this diocese are the ones that, paradoxically, reach
beyond themselves through child-care, feeding programs, and the like. People
do well when they have purpose.
The image of Christians as soldiers is a very ancient one, but it is not mandatory,
as long as what you put in its place is just as powerful. "Onward, Christian
dialogue facilitators" does not convey the seriousness of the human predicament
or the depth of commitment the Lord seeks in his disciples. War is about life
and death. Are we that concerned? The use of the term in the spiritual life
goes back to the ancient desert communities, and comes again to us each Lent.
Each person who has never heard the gospel preached in a way they can understand
is a battle lost. Each woman raising her children in the back seat of an old
car is a battle lost. Each person whose life has no meaning is a battle lost.
Each child who cannot go to school because it is not his or her turn to wear
the one warm jacket the family owns is a battle lost. Each runaway teen who
is beaten and raped into slavery as a prostitute in our cities is a battle
lost. Each teenager who commits suicide because she or he has been taught to
hate what they are is a battle lost.
We who live in houses and have food and clothes and a good self-image seldom
appreciate how desperately some people lack what we simply take for granted,
the necessities for physical and emotional health. Frankly, we would rather
not hear about it. War is about life and death issues; evil demands opposition.
Again, I don't insist that you call it war or call yourself a soldier of Christ,
but we are called to have just as intense response to human suffering, to spiritual
blindness, no matter what we call the response, no matter what the cost.
The making of the sign of the cross on the forehead of the baptized was a direct
imitation and transformation of the "T" tattooed on the foreheads
of Roman soldiers. Every time we make that sign, whether on our death bed or
on the foul line (or in the end zone), we advertise who it is that owns us,
lock, stock, and barrel. Property of Jesus Christ, and operated for his benefit.
This past year has been something of a coming of age for this episcopate. We
have seen that the people of this diocese can be counted on to work devotedly
and calmly in a variety of trying circumstances. We have seen that we can live
through what challenges or frightens us, as long as our gaze is fixed on the
Lordship of Christ as it pervades our work and play together.
One of the most comforting verses in the New Testament comes from the apostle
Paul, who concludes one challenging passage with the words, "He who calls
you is faithful, he will do it." I believe that; what keeps me going is
that I see that you believe it, too.
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