A New Beginning

 For obvious reasons I have been thinking recently about being a beginner. Think for example of young children who are so facile at learning languages because they are such un-self-conscious and uninhibited beginners, jabbering away whether the words make sense or not! We adults want to move as quickly as we can through novice to veteran, for our dignity’s sake. A contrasting view of beginner-hood is found in a little book by Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, a renowned Orthodox theologian, called Beginning to Pray. His argument is that beginning is not just for the early days of praying, but of the essence of the activity. To think that we have gained skill in it, that we are now good at it, is to misunderstand the enterprise. When the disciples went to Jesus asking him how you are supposed to do praying, they were asking an appropriate question. But the simple answer Jesus gave was also an indescribably deep one. Praying is acknowledging that God is king, that we have to beg each day for bread, that we are guilty who try to talk to God, that we can say ‘Daddy’ to God, but only because Jesus is teaching us, that we face evils and trials before which we alone cannot stand, etc. To understand what the Lord’s Prayer says is to surrender the notion that we are doing something we could get good at as if it were backgammon. Bloom claims that to pray is to know you are beginning, and to do it well is to know your need greatly, and masters at it are those who have gone deeply into an awareness of their own need before God.   There are things whose perpetual beginner-hood to illumine for us what the activity itself really is.

I was asked this week what my vision for the diocese is. I admired the person for asking the right question, an obvious question. It is a question that is connected to one’s sense of the nature of the Church itself (as well as relating to the time and place and circumstance we find ourselves in). Now the question about the nature of the Church is not one amenable to original answers, since it is informed by Scripture and inherited from our forebears. It is a question for which there are a number of good answers, since we can get at this reality of the Body of followers of Jesus the crucified and risen from a number of angles. But it is also a question that requires of us the spirit of a beginner, one that asks for a clear answer, a foundation.  

Here is the answer I want to give: ‘you are my witnesses.’ It is spoke by God through the prophet Isaiah in chapter 43; the people of Israel in exile are to tell out who He is and what He is doing for them. God’s new act involves the suffering servant, who turns out to be Jesus, about whom we hear in chapters of Isaiah before and after this one. God displays His might in surprising ways. ‘You are my witnesses’ is heard again at the opening chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. There it is the news of the resurrection of Jesus, which they are to carry out into the world, which is at once hungry for and resistant to it.

Let me mention five implications of being a witness as the linchpin and the starting point of our life together. First of all, we are not telling of ourselves, nor dependent on our own efforts. We are telling about what we have heard through Scripture. We receive and we pass on faithfully. This means that we need to know what the Scripture has to say to us. Likewise we need to make sure our rising generation is instructed as well. I think there is a strong agendum for Christian education coming out of our theme verse.

Secondly, there is humility to witnessing. Say what you’ve got to say! And presumably others can speak too…you claim no power to coerce them into agreeing…you trust that God will do with your witness what He will. This is an essential element of evangelism. The coming years need to be a time of a concerted and vigorous effort, to plant churches, to renew our own proclamation in parishes. This verse sets evangelism in the right tenor. I should hasten to add that witness as a theme also informs efforts of service and social justice: in actions we witness to the nature of the Kingdom, which Jesus has brought and is bringing.

The verse in Acts goes on to say that we are to be witnesses ‘to the ends of the earth.’ The resurrection changes the game for everyone everywhere.   Being a witness to the resurrection puts us in league with our brothers and sisters across the globe. This theme has everything to do with finding new ways to live out our identities as global Christians.

Being a witness is also a good way to describe our calling within the national Church scene. As a more theologically traditional diocese we have something to offer to the Body as a whole, something we think they need to hear. We do not have the power to make people agree with us, but we do need the gumption to say what we have to say, and then listen as well.

Finally, I think the idea of being a witness addresses the area of spirituality. In both Isaiah and Acts the verse conveys a powerful sense of expectation. God has acted, will act, and His act is decisive. We need to be hopeful, confident, patient, open to surprise, willing to suffer. He is going places we didn’t expect. He owns the future. We have our part to play, to say what we have seen and heard, and for such a role we are grateful.

Yet one more final word: we hear a good deal these days that we live in a new kind of culture, a postmodern one. Everyone has their own truth, it is said. The world has gotten closer and more pluralistic. In such a world the early Christians thrived (and suffered). In such a world Christians witness to their neighbors about what they believe to be true.  

You are a witness! It is simple, a beginning, like our faith in the inexhaustible riches of our God. Tell me how we can refine and improve the articulation of this uniting theme.

Peace GRS  


Living between two worlds

I have been living this summer in the space between Toronto and Dallas, mentally as well as geographically. They are, for obvious reasons of nationality and culture, quite different. But they also share some things in common. Both are global cities, economically dynamic and rapidly growing. Both worry when the price of oil goes this low! We will miss many friends in the first, but are keen to become fully part of the life of the latter. In my case this is also a shift from life in a seminary to life in a diocese. And while they are different, I want in this article actually to focus on one important way in which they are similar.

If you travelled to Wycliffe in Toronto and wanted to enroll, you would face some choices. Nowadays there are Masters of Divinity to be a parish priest, another if you think you want to go on and be a theologian, another if you want to plant a church, another if you want to work with the urban poor or in a development organization like World Vision. Those students all sit next to each other because we have believed that they had something to say to each other, they were parts of the Christian life that made up a whole.

The buzzword for this in church circles is ‘holistic.’ It goes back to the late 1960’s when evangelicals were debating with Christian social activists: was the heart of the Gospel proclaiming or serving, calling to salvation or helping to further the Kingdom? It is a debate whose evidence can still be seen in the Church. The great Anglican priest and teacher John Stott, the leader of worldwide evangelicalism, spoke forcefully about how such an either/or choice was misconceived. First comes what Christ has done, and then in thanksgiving we are called to do a number of things, which form a seamless garment. We call others into the kingdom He embodies, and we do works of mercy to give the world a sense of what that kingdom is like. Witnessing – serving - celebrating: the Christian life is a whole.

You can see that very thing if you look at the life of the diocese: energetic effort to plant a Church, Alpha, Jubilee, hospitality that leads to a new congregation for a people who have immigrated here. These can’t and shouldn’t be separated. In fact we understand their ‘why’ better when they are held together, and we are challenged to go further in one facet or another that our parish may show less of. Our life together also requires that we think of the Christian mission, our mission as a single holistic response to what Christ has done.

The kind of mission I am talking about already exists in this diocese in remarkable ways. My calling as bishop is to observe and celebrate that fact, and then raise the question, together with your leaders, where we are being led next. I am looking forward to such a ministry greatly.

Peace, GRS+    


Complete the Race (II Timothy 4:17)

At the end of our vacation we find ourselves in Chicago for its Marathon weekend (the fastest, I have read this morning, perhaps because it is cool and relatively level). Marathons offer many good things. You can see world-class athletes from places like Ethiopia and Kenya. There is a feel of fiesta with signs by family members, getups by some for-fun runners, and food for sale.

But as I looked out my hotel window at 7:30 a.m., I watched the race of competitors who have lost legs or their use. Wheeling vehicles by arm for 26 miles means serious fitness and determination.

Those competitors were to me, this morning, a symbol of the Church too. For each is wounded. The larger family cheers them on. Each by grace has risen up to run the race. Ahead is the goal, the prize, the welcome home. We find the companionship of Jesus the Lord, there, and along the route too.