In New England, there are two holy days which occur in spring.  One, of course is the celebration of Easter, when Christians celebrate the triumph of life over death in the resurrection of Jesus.  The day typically comes in a time when buds are beginning to blossom, grass is turning green, and migrating birds are returning.  Days are longer and the sun is warmer.  All of this reminds us of God's gift of life and renewal.

The other holy day, of course, is opening day at Fenway park, when New Englanders celebrate the triumph of hope over reason.  I have been privileged to attend about forty opening days in my life. The first was in 1967 when 8,342 hearty fans braved 40 degree temperatures to watch the Red Sox who had finished at the bottom of the league standings the year before begin what came to be known as the Impossible Dream.  This rag tag team with its rookie manager, Dick Williams, shocked the baseball world by winning the pennant.  Since this was my first opening day, I was sure that my attendance had something to do with the resulting pennant, so I have continued to attend the event yearly since that magic season.  I continue to believe this is true, though it took the team 34 years after that season to win the World Series.

  There are high expectations for this year's team, after all they won the World Series last year.  There is something within me, however, that misses the "old days".  in the past,we went to the park fueled by hope in spite of what we knew would be a mediocre season.  We were willing to believe even in what we could not see.  We waited for a touch of grace or mystery to lift the ordinary into the extra-ordinary.  I miss that. 
 

This week in the church we celebrate an event depicted in the Gospel of Matthew and which we label the "Transfiguration".  The gospel describes Jesus going to the mountain top with his select disciples and there being infused with the light of God and the disciples having a vision of Jesus with Moses and Elijah.  What most interests me in this story is the response of the disciples.  Having witnessed this overwhelming spiritual event, they immediately want to build a tabernacle and enclose what they witnessed.  This ineffable and indescribable event  is beyond their comprehension, so they want to reduce it to something that they can contain and control.  They want to put it in a safe place where they can keep it from escaping.

Isn't that what we often do with our spiritual experiences?  To often, a  moment of grace suddenly penetrates our lives so deeply that we too, want to tame it and control it.  We create theologies to explain it.  We build churches to contain it.  We create rituals to imitate it.  And we create rules to keep it in its place.  The experience itself is pure but our structures that we build around it reflect our own need for control.  The experience of Grace is universal, but our expressions of it are culture based and it is these expressions that so often lead to misunderstandings and indeed to violence.  We may act as if we believe that we are the only ones who have had the "legitimate" experience,and we are  willing to defend our own interpretation of grace and the structures that we have built around it even to the death,  and in doing that we violate the very grace that we think we are defending.  

Jesus did not allow the disciples to build the tabernacle.  

As I celebrated Martin Luther King Day, I went back and read some of his words.  His gift for language and his ability to elevate his listeners with the images of justice and freedom was extraordinary.  I was reminded of the same quality in Abraham Lincoln.  It was the power to appeal to what is best in us and to elevate us to a place above where we currently stand.  When Lincoln was inaugurated for his first term, the country was in turmoil.  Several states had threatened secession, the union was in jeopardy, and violence was in the air.  Lincoln used his inaugural address to seek to bring the nation together and to prevent what he knew would be a horrible civil war.  As he ended his speech, he wrote:
I am loath to close. We are  not enemies but friends.  We must not be enemies.  Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.  The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

Would that our political leaders today, could speak with such eloquence and passion to the need for unity, respect, and and mutual affection as King and Lincoln.  Words do matter and today's leaders and commentators use them as weapons, not the balm of Gilead.

The life of Nelson Mandela is a gift to us all.  As a Roman Catholic clergy friend remarked, "If Mandela was a Roman Catholic, the Vatican would be moving to sanctify him already."  Of course, Mandela would refuse such treatment, but his life and its lessons give those of us who claim to be people of faith much to ponder.  He left Robben Island prison after 27 years of captivity without bitterness.  He invited the jailers who held him captive to his inauguration as president and gave them seats of honor.  He helped to establish the truth and reconciliation process in that racially divided and frightened country and saved the citizens from a bloodbath of recrimination. He left the office of president after one term so that democracy would have the chance to take a solid foothold in South Africa. 
Surely not a perfect man,Mandela demonstrated for all to see the power  of integrity, idealism, hope, and wisdom.  How painful it is to compare this man to the leaders of today who are petty, vain, self serving, and vengeful.    Why do we fail to recognize that doing the "right" thing and living faithfully is the way to make lasting change happen.  I thank God for this man.

This morning at Fisk, I shared the following with the congregation:

Many of you have followed the story of Pastor Frank Shaeffer who was brought up on charges in the United Methodist Church for conducting a same sex wedding. All United Methodist ministers enter into a covenant with one another and the church to abide by the Book of Discipline which governs our church life. By performing a same sex marriage, Pastor Shaeffer violated that covenant, since the Book of Discipline expressly forbids a United Methodist minister conducting such a wedding.   He is, however, a father, and the person whom he married was his son.   As a parent, he also has a covenant this one with his family, to love and support his children.  Caught between two competing covenants, he chose to perform the wedding and affirm his son.

Some have asked for my opinion on this matter.  I choose not to give an opinion, however, I shall share one fact.  I, too, have performed a same sex wedding.  I say this not out of guilt or out of pride, but simply to state the fact.  Each of us on our faith journey may be called upon to make difficult choices which may disappoint some and please others.  I hope that when we are called upon to make such choices we will do so in all humility, with prayer, and in the hopes that we are reflecting the love of Jesus through our actions.

Welcome to the initial blog.  For now, just testing to see if anyone is out there.  I intend to post at least weekly on topics of interest and concern to me in my spiritual journey.  I hope that you will come along.