Einstein Quote of the Day

I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.


How very true. I do wish I could say I never think of it, though.

Last Sunday in the North

Sermon for St. John's, Brownville Junction and St. Augustine's. Dover-Foxcroft

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Rev. Amelia Hagen

I returned from a trip to the UK earlier this week.  The primary purpose was to attend a gathering and retreat of the Society of Ordained Scientists.  Of course, I also spent some personal time going to some places I've always wanted to see, York (not Maine), Whitby, the Isle of Iona and Durham.  Like many people I'm drawn to the early saints of Ireland and England.  My own sense of adventure, which is one of my core values, is why I love doing interim work.  Iona was founded by St. Colomba and 12 followers by getting into little boats and sailing from Ireland to the Scottish Islands. From there Christianity came into Scotland and northern England.  And then of course, Whitby is associated with St. Hild and the Council of Whitby where a decision was made on how to calculate the date for Easter (among other things), and then St. Cuthbert and the Venerable Bede in Durham.

Cellist and Pianist—Iona Abbey Church

But back to the gathering of The Society of Ordained Scientists.  Our retreat leader used science fiction as a peg to talk about theological subjects.  You'd be surprised at the number of members who are closeted sci-fi fans.  One of the short stories was by Arthur C. Clark written in 1953, called The Nine Billion Names of God. In this story some Tibetan monks are trying list all of the possible names of God.  They believe that once the naming is done, the universe will be complete and God will bring it to an end. The monks had been working on this for three centuries ever since they created an alphabet that could encode all the names of God, and an algorithm to throw out the nonsensical ones(they believed that all the names had less than nine letters). They had been doing this by hand and had estimated it would take another fifteen thousand years to complete the work. To speed things up, they decided to use a computer. So they hired two western computer programers and rented a computer. 

The computer programers don't believe that listing all the names of God would do anything, but it's a job. The monks take the print-outs and paste them in the books they've been putting together for the last 300 years. After about three months the job is about ended and the programmers were worried that the monks would blame the computer, and them, when nothing happens. They bid the monk goodbye, who, by the way, gives them a strange look, and the programmers leave just before last print run. As they ride down the mountain path on ponies, under clear star-filled skies, they stop briefly. One of the programmers looks at his watch and says that it must be just about the time that the monks are pasting the final printed names into their books.  As they gaze at the stars, they notice that one by one, the they went out.

In some cultures, to know God's name is to know God's nature.  So what nature of God, does today's gospel reading, with Jesus teaching his disciples the Lord's prayer, point to? So when we pray to "Our Father in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name," what kind of Father pops into our mind. You know all of our names for God are metaphors.  God is like a Father who is both strong and caring, that is maternal as well as paternal. For Moses, God is the Great I Am (Will Be) who is present and promises to be present always with God's people. The New Zealand Prayer Book in an alternative Lord's Prayer says it by using lots of metaphors: Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver, Source of all that is and that shall be, Father and Mother of us all, Loving God, in whom is heaven.

We really get a clue to the part of God's nature, Jesus is talking about, in the second part of the gospel reading. It is about generous hospitality. Some people think it's about pestering God until you get what you ask for, but  there are other translations of the word that we get today as persistence.  Shamelessness or impudence are two of them.  (thanks to Bosco Peters  for this idea) The neighbor asks only once, so persistence doesn't really seem to fit too well.  We know that hospitality is important in that first century culture, and still is, in the Middle East.  And avoidance of shame is also extremely important in that culture.  These first century people lived hand-to-mouth and the extravagant hospitality expected to be given to strangers could put a family in real economic trouble, yet if they didn't show hospitality they would be shamed.  Quite a predicament.  But, I would suspect that it's really not about us, although it could be, as much as it's about God.  It's about Jesus showing us what kind of God, the Father is.

We know that Jesus, the icon of the Father, was himself a radically hospitable person.  Just remember the feeding with the loaves and fishes, his healings, and his welcoming of sinners to the table.  Jesus points to a God who really is a Mothering-Father; who wants good for all of his creation. In the words of one of my favorite scientist/theologians, John Polkinghorne,  "A creator who is rational, joyful, good and holy."  Jesus points to a God who is not only rational, joyful, good and hospitable and generous and holy, but a God who is the source of hope.  Hope to those who have so little; whose daily bread is not assured. Hope to those who are not welcomed and know nothing of hospitality and generosity. We are called to put our hope and anticipation of God's kingdom come into action every day of our lives.

We are to be the impudent, shameless ones who ask, knock, seek and find until all of God's children have the bread they need for the day.

Trip to the United Kingdom and SOSc Meeting

Although there's a lot of putting away to be done, I've finally got all my belongings (except for my cross country skis and snowshoes) into the apartment.  It was quite an undertaking and just barely accomplished the transfer before I left for a trip to the UK and the annual gathering of the Society of Ordained Scientists.

My first stop was York.  This is one of the most charming cities in England.  I love the old streets and ability to see so much by walking.  Although very tired from my flight I walked over to the minister and wandered around, guidebook in hand. I realized I had left my camera at home, so I took no pictures of the place.  They were getting ready for a concert that evening, but I was way too tired to even contemplate buying a ticket.  I went back to my hotel, ordered tea (sandwiches and sweets) around 6 pm, took a bath and crawled into bed.  I know I was asleep by 8 pm and slept until 8 the next morning.

After breakfast I bought a camera, all the while listening to the York town pipers practically outside the door of the camera shop.  So, of course, that was the first picture I took.

York Pipers

After that I walked through the city park and then along the city walls.

You can walk on top of the wall in York.

The hosts at The Willows B&B in Whitby, suggested that I take the bus rather than the train from York.  It was fascinating going over the moors and through little villages.  It was a long ride though.  They made me a pot of tea when I arrived and I sat and watched a steam-powered bus go by, shooting flames as it came to a stop.  Took a walk through the town to orient myself, but saved going up to the abbey and its 198 steps until Sunday, the next day. The ruins are not of Hild's original abbey, but much later.

Ruins of Whitby Abbey

It was blowing gale force winds on the headlands, but it was sunny and warm enough.  I went to church at St. Mary the Virgin which is just outside the abbey grounds.  It was Morning Prayer, led by a lay person since the clergy, we were told, were off at Oberammergau.  The church itself is very strange.  The arch into the choir and sanctuary is cut off by white-painted pews which form a sort of balcony around the church.  It is very difficult to see the altar.  There is one of those three-tiered pulpits in the center of the church, with the clerk's desk on the lowest level.  Reminded me of colonial-era churches in the US where preaching rather than communion was considered to be most important.  The people, however, were very pleasant and the coffee hour nice.  The view of the town on the way down from the abbey is quite impressive.

Old Town of Whitby from Abbey Steps

After a rest I walked over to the West Cliffs (the abbey is on the East Cliffs), another headland and peered down on the bathing beach below.  The brightly painted cabins are quite a treat to view.  Since it was fairly late in the day on a Sunday there weren't many people left enjoying the sunshine (and wind).  Off in the distance was a replica of Cook's sailing ship.

Whitby, West Cliffs Bathing Cabins

The next day it was supposed to rain, and it did.  I had decided I wanted to take the North Yorkshire Moors Steam Train.  It was lots of fun and the scenery fascinating, especially going through deep valleys in the moors.  The line is run entirely by volunteers and I was told they have no problem getting them. 

Steam Train from Whitby to Pickering

The next day I met some colleagues at the bus station and we were taken to Sneaton Castle (a former school) where our gathering and retreat of the Society of Ordained Scientists was held.  I didn't take any pictures there.  Whitby Abbey was visible at a distance when the fog and rain didn't hide it.  Walking the grounds of the Castle was pleasant.  The place is run by sisters of the Order of the Holy Paraclete, who are basically a teaching order.  There is no longer a school, but a lot of their work in done in Africa.  What was a school is now a conference center, and quite well run.  The chaplain, new to the place, was originally a scientist and decided to join us for our meditations and at the admittance Eucharist, became a member along with four others.  One of the new members is Moira, from Scotland.  She and I both studied chemistry and math.  Since she offered me a lift to Edinburgh, I accepted. That was my next stop, where I spent the night with Fiona, a friend from long-ago time in Vienna.  Her condo overlooks the Firth of Forth and this is the view I woke up to in the morning.  I sat and watched the fog lift a bit while I sipped coffee.

Firth of Forth

It was then off to Oban and Iona.  I booked a tour across the Isle of Mull.  The bus driver gave us a great history of the place as we went along.  It was about a two-hour ride. The scenery was beautiful—high, green, rounded mountains with waterfalls coming down from great heights; shaggy highland cattle and of course, lots of sheep of all sorts.  The little ferry to Iona runs every 15 minutes, but the big one to Oban, not so often.  Because the weather had been so bad, the last ferry of the day had been canceled and we needed to be sure we caught the three o'clock one off Iona.  It was raining when we arrived, but the sun was out when we left.

Oban to Mull Ferry

St. Colomba's Shrine

You can read the words.

Iona Abbey Buildings

Nave of Church

There were a cellist and pianist rehearsing in the nave crossing for a concert to be held in a couple of days.  I sat down and basked in the beauty of the music and the place.  Next pictures are from the cloisters.

The Cloisters at Iona

Abbey Bell

I was getting hungry so I decided to go have lunch when it decided to rain quite hard.  The sheep in the next picture looked like it was trying to get a bit of shelter from the rain.

After lunch I went for a walk along the shore in the opposite direction of the abbey.  The sky went from grey to blue over the course of my walk.  Here are a few of the things I saw.

As you can see the sky has begun to turn blue by the last picture.  I then started to walk back to the ferry terminal.  Both the sky and water are much bluer.  People were sitting on the rocks eating their lunches and waiting for the ferry to come.  I am even more amazed now that I've seen the place that St. Colomba and his 12 companions safely made the trip from Ireland to Iona and that this lovely little island became such a place of learning an pilgrimage.

The next morning I went to church at the Episcopal Church of Scotland cathedral in Oban.  They're in the process of searching for a new bishop, so the bishop of Moray, Ross and Caithness celebrated and preached.  He had just spent some time camping on Mull (lots of rain) and said he probably didn't look much like a bishop that morning.  The people really like him.  One woman told me she hoped they could find someone like him to be their bishop.  The sermon basically said we need to be both Martha and Mary, not one or the other.  The bishop asked what would a church be like if everyone were Marys?  Interesting thought.  I got a really warm welcome and am glad I went.  I then grabbed my suitcase and took the noon train to Glasgow, then Edinburgh and finally to my destination, Durham.

I really did get steeped in the early saints of Ireland and Britain.  First Colomba, then in Durham, Cuthbert and Bede.  I loved the Norman towers of Durham and the history is fascinating.

Durham Cathedral

Too short a time in Durham, just like it was too short a time in York. The train was not nearly so interesting from Durham to London as it was between Edinburgh and Durham.  I loved the vistas out to the North Sea.  Got to my hotel near Victoria Station just in time to meet Doug's train from Bristol.  We had about 2 hours for dinner and talking.  Not nearly enough time.  The next morning I went for a walk to St. James Park and took a stroll.  The duck and the flowers were little treasures, but most of the treasures were in my mind.  The first time I went to London for the IAEA I stayed on the other side of the park and went for a stroll through it.  The memories were of all the wonderful scientists I got to meet and work with:  Mike Bewers, Bill Templeton, John Shepherd, George Needler, Geoff Webb, Dennis Whitehead, Jan Pentreath, Chris Garrett, Gunnar Kullenberg and so many others whose names escape me at this time like Marion's last name.

Duck in St. James' Park

Flowers, St. James' Park

Einstein Quote of the Day

Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.
Jesus showed us how true that is.  It's a good quote for Memorial Day as well.

No Voice in Government

I fell asleep watching television last night.  I had a very strange dream.  I was in a room where we were supposed to take turns discussing something very important.  What the subject was I don't know, but it was important, and it was as though I was totally ignored.  Everyone else was given time to have their say, but no matter how much I screamed and carried on and asked for my turn, it was as though I wasn't even there.  The moderator completely ignored me.  I then went to another room, different people, but the same thing happened.  By-the-way, the people in the dream were clergy I know here in our diocese and that made it even more frustrating. When I woke up, the Republican candidates for governor were just finishing their spiels on Maine Public Television.

Wonder what this means about my thoughts on not having a voice in government?  Hummmm.

A New Place to Live

I found a nice apartment with two bedrooms and one and a half baths in downtown.  It has nice views of the harbor and is over a coffee shop and across the street from a restaurant I enjoy going to.  I'm going be moving in during the month of June so I'll be settled before I take my trip to England to the meeting of the Society of Ordained Scientists.

Celebrating Frances Perkins

Today, if it were not The Feast of the Ascension, we in the Episcopal Church, would be remembering Frances Perkins, the first woman cabinet member (under F.D.Roosevelt).    As Secretary of Labor, Frances was responsible for much of the social programs of the New Deal.

Frances was a summer member of St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in Newcastle,where I am attending while waiting for my next interim.  I'm enjoying singing in the choir and this coming Sunday there will be a lecture at 2 pm on her life called "Frances Perkins, heart and soul of the New Deal" by Donn Mitchell and Evening Prayer at 4 pm celebrated by our bishop, Stephen Lane.  The choir will be singing and there will be a quartet of fine voices as well.

At last General Convention, Frances was included in Holy Women,  Holy Men, the revision of Lesser Feasts and Fasts. For more information on both Frances and the commemoration go to St. Andrew's website.

Collect
Loving God, we bless your Name for Frances Perkins, who lived out her belief that the special vocation of the laity is to conduct the secular affairs of society that all may be maintained in health and decency. Help us, following her example, to contend for justice and for the protection of all in need, that we may be faithful followers of Jesus Christ; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Fire Over the Earth from Mass on the World

Photo: Sunrise from Wikimedia Commons.
To continue on with Teilhard's Mass on the World from Hymn of the Universe—after the Offertory is a section called Fire Over the Earth.  Teilhard speaks of God as Power, Word and Fire.  The uncreated Light with which the Orthodox grace their icons, is the "blazing Spirit"called upon to transform us each and every day to new work, renewed and evolved .

Fire, the source of being: we cling so tenaciously to the illusion that fire comes forth from the depths of the earth and that its flames grow progressively brighter as it pours along the radiant furrows of life’s tillage. Lord, in your mercy you gave me to see that this idea is false, and that I must overthrow it if I were ever to have sight of you.

In the beginning was Power, intelligent, loving, energizing. In the beginning was the Word, supremely capable of mastering and moulding whatever might come into being in the world of matter. In the beginning there were not coldness and darkness: there was the Fire. This is the truth.

So, far from light emerging gradually out of the womb of our darkness, it is the Light, existing before all else was made which, patiently, surely, eliminates our darkness. As for us creatures, of ourselves we are but emptiness and obscurity. But you, my God, are the inmost depths, the stability of that eternal milieu, without duration or space, in which our cosmos emerges gradually into being and grows gradually to its final completeness, as it loses those boundaries which to our eyes seem so immense. Everything is being; everywhere there is being and nothing but being, save in the fragmentation of creatures and the clash of their atoms.

After reading this wonderful description of how the Light of the World eliminates our darkness, slowly and over God's time, not ours, I realize how impatient I tend to be over the smallest of things.  It also speaks to evolution as part of God's time and timing— patient and sure—growing to "its final completeness."  This very long view of time and creation must come naturally to geologists who see the earth layered in its millions of years of change.  And then to end the section with these most beautiful words of blessing over the living world and words of mystery for the evil around us — all living things are God's Body given for us and that the Blood shed for us are all those things bringing us to death.

Do you now therefore, speaking through my lips, pronounce over this earthly travail your twofold efficacious word: the word without which all that our wisdom and our experience have built up must totter and crumble — the word through which all our most far-reaching speculations and our encounter with the universe are come together into a unity. Over every living thing which is to spring up, to grow, to flower, to ripen during this day say again the words: This is my Body. And over every death-force which waits in readiness to corrode, to wither, to cut down, speak again your commanding words which express the supreme mystery of faith: This is my Blood.