An Experience with the Episcopal Church

I have had the most interesting experience at All Saints Episcopal Church. My visits have changed the way that I understand tradition and worship. Sensual is probably the best word to describe the service built and designed from centuries of carefully crafted symbolic worship. As you know I have grown up in the Pentecostal Church, a young denomination not yet one hundred years old. Unlike the Episcopal Church, the Pentecostal church chose to throw off years of learning and church tradition and start anew. Some of the buildings are built well and glorify God with their beauty, but most are built plain and simple as is the church service and worship.

As I walked into the historic Episcopal Church building, which was built in the late eighteen hundreds, and looked around, I noticed high arching ceilings, intricately carved beams and beautifully stained glass, each colorfully arranged window a story in itself. At exactly nine o’clock the bell rang, the organ filled each space in the church and the ceremonial processional began. First came a young white robbed child holding a seven foot staff with a cross on top, walking slowly up the isle from the back of the church. Following her were two more robbed children each holding lit candles. Behind them were others, singers, more cross holders, one taller individual holding a golden plated Bible with reverence high above his head and last came the priest, step by step, patiently walking toward the front of the church and then seating himself inauspiciously next to the organ. The service had begun and an atmosphere of high worship and mystery had overtaken us all.

I say sensual because each of my senses were involved in the worship. I was reminded of God’s majesty as I looked around and took in the beauty of the sanctuary and the symbolic architecture. A throng of voices simultaneously read prayers of confession and attrition from the Book of Common Prayer. Everyone was now exiting the pews, bowing and then walking toward the front of the church. I awkwardly stepped out, bowed and followed. At the front of the church I knelt and held out my hands to receive the communion bread. “The body and blood of Christ” said the priest as I took the bread and tasted the wine, which left a slight burning feeling in my stomach. I stood up and walked through the prayer chapel filled with the air of fragrant incense and sat down back at my seat. Such depth of worship! Each movement, each symbol, each sound, touch, taste and prayer purposefully designed to glorify God. The experience reminded me of his greatness, his beauty, his mystery.

How can there be an advance in worship without tradition and Christian heritage? Technology is advanced because it is built upon the work of past generations, yet we have thrown aside the traditions of the church saying that they are old, stale and no longer of value, yet by tossing aside our heritage we are tossing aside a worship life of profound, tested spiritual substance. Tradition has become old and stale because we have failed to educate worshipers of the vibrancy of renewed worship rooted in the heritage of faith. We have forgotten to teach people what is happening and why. There is nothing wrong with new styles and means of worship, but they should be built and tempered upon a foundation of hundreds of years of worship practice. I highly encourage you to experience other forms of worship. Being raised as a good Pentecostal kid, I never would have thought of entering into the high church worship style of the Church of England or of a catholic church. I looked down on other denominations. Visiting these other brothers and sisters has expanded my vision and helped me to understand the traditions that have been refined with each service, each year, each century and passed down from generation to generation that we might be reminded of the greatness and mystery of God.

Melissa's Living Situation

Melissa, my fiancée, is in a difficult spot right now. After December tenth she will have a place to live. Currently she is living at the Teen Challenge facility where she has been working for the past year. When she turned in her resignation letter to Teen Challenge her immediate future was well planned. She and two friends had applied to take up residence at Emerald Run Apartments. Melissa and Meagan were going to be living in one of the rooms of the apartment and together were going to be splitting half of the rent. Her other friend was going to occupy the second room and pay for the other half of the rent and then cover the entire rent of the seven month lease when Melissa and Meagan planned on moving out in May, but suddenly some adverse situations arose in this other friend’s life and she will be unable to rent along with Meagan and Melissa.

So, now Melissa is in a very difficult situation. She could move back to St. Cloud to live with her mother, but she promised her employer at Southeastern College that she would be working there until at least next summer. Should she go back on her word, she will lose her good name. Also, we will be getting married in April and so if she does move back to St. Cloud she will only be there for a few months before moving back to Lakeland to be with me, making a job situation very difficult because of the short amounts of time. Melissa wrote in an email she and Meagan

are looking for either someone with an apartment that may be looking for a roommate (or two) for the next four months or for someone who may have an extra room in their home that they wouldn't mind renting out to one or two young ladies. If you know of anyone who may be able to help us out, please call (321-287-3374) or email me Mmelissamary@gmail.com). I know that God is going to open up an opportunity for us and I thank you for all your prayers and support.

It is a rather confusing situation, but if you would, please pray that she and Meagan will quickly find a place (or places) to stay that will be within their limited budgets. I am sure that God will provide.

Thanksgiving with a Romantic

We pulled up in the driveway, got out of the car and began walking toward her mother’s empty house, when suddenly she turned to face me and while touching me gently she said, “Wait here.” I immediately remembered a few words that she had said earlier that morning while we were going to her dad’s house, sitting in the back seat of her sister’s car: “I have a surprise for you.” So, there I was standing in the driveway of my future mother-in-law’s house, trying to figure out what it was that Melissa, my fiancée, was doing inside.

“Maybe she bought a new outfit or a dress for a special occasion. That seems odd. Hmm, I never noticed before that this carport has a wood paneled ceiling.”

My mind had begun to wander as I looked up at the darkening sky and then down at the ground where tiny ants were systematically going about their work as I listened to the sounds coming from inside the house: quick footsteps going back and forth and a kitchen drawer opening and then closing.

I was not feeling so well. I am sure that you felt the same on Thursday. We had just come back from Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends. There were about fifteen people there and try as we might, one could hardly tell that we had decreased the size of the generous piles, plates and dishes of food that had been prepared—enough for at least fifty hearty eaters. I was beginning to feel the rolls, deep fried turkey, blackberry pie and brownies that had settled themselves somewhat uncomfortably into my crowded stomach.

The lights inside the house became dark. Having finished whatever it was that she was doing, Melissa now stood at the door and said, “You can come in.” I followed her into the house. She stopped and pushed a button on a boom box and Nat King Cole’s voice followed us into the front room where the Christmas tree glowed and lit candles scattered light about the room.

“Would you like to dance?” Melissa asked.

“Sure,” I said as we drew close together. I started to laugh. I do not know exactly why. I was surprised at the experience that she had so carefully created.

“Are you laughing at me?” she said.

“No, I’m just happy, happy that you would think about me; happy that you would do this for me,” I answered.

We danced.

Suddenly, the door swung open and her cousin came trotting in carrying some folding chairs. Embarrassed, we quickly let go of one another, turned off Nat King Cole and blew out the candles.

“I’m sorry” Melissa said.

“It’s okay,” I replied.

We finished helping her cousin unload the chairs. He left and we re-lit the candles, turned off the lights and turned on Mr. Cole.

We danced. We looked into each others eyes. We sat down on the couch. We drank fruit cool-aid out of wine glasses and talked about how thankful we were for each other. Soon everyone began returning home and our time was finished.

I am thankful for Melissa. I am thankful for her thoughtfulness, for her love and for a few romantic moments at the end of a Thanksgiving Day.

A Life Plan

I am very excited about my future together with Melissa. All of the pieces are finally beginning to come together in an understandable shape. I have often felt that my interests were broad and disconnected, but I believe that I am beginning to see why God has shaped me with tendencies toward youth ministry, adventure, theology, world travel, business, missions, leadership, church planting and teaching.

When I first began to realize that I was supposed to go into ministry I was sure that it was youth ministry so I began working hard along with the community church as a youth leader doing youth events, outreaches and fundraising, once for over $6,000 to take fifty youth to a national Teen Mania youth retreat in Indiana.

Lately I have become extremely interested in theology and philosophy. These subjects, though difficult enter into, are extremely intriguing so much so that men and women have dedicated their entire lives to these pursuits. Is it possible to answer questions of free will and evil?
So how does all of that fit in with my adventurous streak? I remember as a young kid, the thrill of jumping on my bike or tromping through deep woods exploring places I had never been. I was always trying to get someone to go with me on my wilderness adventurous. I pulled along brothers and sisters, friends and sometimes my dog and together we would climb hills and jump logs, pole vault over streams and climb trees.

Before coming here to Southeastern College my main goal in life was to become a great leader. I remember sitting on my bed and looking through my brother’s books and noticing one that said The 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership. I asked my brother about it and soon my journey into the world of leadership commenced. I have always wanted to be a leader. I as a kid I recruited younger siblings as well as the neighborhood kids to play soccer, kickball and basketball or to go on adventures to the sandpit. I remember specifically choosing to be the goalie at a church soccer game so that I could see the big picture and yell out commands and encouragements to my team mates. I remember trying to be the team leader and I also remember that no one listened to me. I did not know much about influence back then.

Here at Southeastern College I was sitting in class about a year ago when the Dr. Hackett asked, “Where are my future church planters?” I thought about it for a moment and then tossed up my hand. That was the first time I had ever considered it. Melissa, my fiancée is also incredibly ambitious, loves to travel and is great with people. What are we to do with all of these gifts and desires?

Yesterday I had an epiphany. I believe that I am beginning to see how all of the pieces are to fit. I believe that Melissa and I have been given all of these desires so that God willing, we might be prepared to train and mentor indigenous pastors on the mission field. So, within the next five to six years we will be studying for masters degrees while working as youth pastors. By the time that we turn thirty, we would like to be pastoring a growing church and then planting a church during our forties. At age fifty we will begin preparations to move oversees to help establish and plant an indigenous church. Then by the time that we are in our mid sixties will be raising up and training native pastors in church starved countries. Although there are many things to do, I am excited about what God has planned for our lives as we commit to spreading his fame throughout the earth.

My Grandfather is Dying

My mom emailed me today and said that from time to time over the past several months Grandpa has had episodes of lightness and heaviness in his chest. These incidents were not painful, but uncomfortable. He has been experiencing symptoms of indigestion occasionally as well, which can be attributed to his heart. It is Grandpa’s wish that there be no medical intervention if he does have any further health problems and as hard as it is to stand by and watch someone suffer, Grandma has promised him that she will honor his request and will only call in re-enforcements if he asks for the help.

Grandpa attends a very small church someplace in Saginaw, Michigan when he feels able to go and the weather safely permits him to do so. When my mom visited with him yesterday afternoon (at home) he said that he was feeling fine when he went to church. He was burdened for his family and just before the pastor was to begin to speak he interrupted the order of the service and asked that they all (about 10 members) pray for his family. He said that he began to share his request and got excited and started to shout (you all may never have really seen him in action, but he can 'really' stomp and shout). The congregation prayed with him and service proceeded. He said it was then that he began to feel the chest pain. He waited until service was done and asked for prayer, telling them that he was having chest pains. Those people were not very smart! They had him come up to the front and stand while they prayed for him. As is typical with a heart attack, he broke out in a cold sweat, felt very weak and had to sit down. They offered him a cold drink of water, thinking it would help which he drank and then promptly threw up. All of these experiences and symptoms are strong indications of a heart attack. They offered to drive him home, but he refused and drove himself home (a very foolish thing to do).

When my mom visited him in the afternoon yesterday he was resting when she arrived, but then said he was feeling much better - no more heaviness or pain, and got up and had coffee with us. My mom remarked that she believes Grandpa will be eighty-three years of age on January 19, 2005 and she says,

God has given him a long life and we do not know what the future holds. Neither he nor Grandma are in the best of health and there is no way for us to know how long they will be with us. Their children and their grandchildren are the pride of their life. They love nothing more than to brag on their family. They love to talk about the accomplishments of their grandchildren, where they are, who they are marrying, what they're doing, and of course, how many they have twenty-seven at last count with a great grandchild on the way.

Please pray that all will be peaceful. Thanks

Differences Between Churches are Dying

Today I went with Melissa to meet with the Episcopal Diocese concerning a large youth event (600 plus kids) at which Melissa will be speaking. As you know, I grew up as a good Pentecostal kid and I always thought that there were major differences between The Church of England (Episcopal is a split off of the catholic church), but I am having trouble finding those ‘major’ differences. As we opened up the leadership and brainstorming meeting, we sang the song “Hungry” and prayed and then spoke about how we could more effectively reach more kids in the Orlando area. I have been to many leadership planning meetings within other churches (non Episcopal) and I could not see any difference between those meetings and this one! Ninety percent of what churches talk about and do is the same as ninety percent of what other churches do. Doctrinal differences such as prayer languages and views of the sacraments are things that are rarely taught or mentioned in the Church and yet we have allowed these things to tear us apart and weaken us. How far we have fallen from Paul’s urging in Romans: do not pass “judgment on disputable matters” (14:1), but instead “make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification” (v. 19).

You just watch. Denominationalism is on its way out. The church in America is coming back together.

The Church Denounces War in Iraqi

When the war in Iraqi first began I was in full support of Bush’s decision to go and “protect” our country, but as I found out more and more information concerning the war I am beginning to see a side that has previously been invisible to me. From what I understand every mainline church has spoken against Bush’s decision to go to war according to the Orlando Sentinel.

There has been a tremendous loss of life according to the Lancet Medical Journal which concluded that 100,000 civilians died in the US-led invasion of Iraq, most of which were woman and children. Even worse the U.S. military refuses all responsibility. Gen. Tommy Franks could not have been more direct: "We don’t do body counts."

After doing some reading I discovered that Fuller Theological Seminary professors have signed a statement speaking of the "grave moral crisis” in America, and are signing a statement opposing President Bush's alleged convergence of God, church and nation and what they call his "theology of war.” In Bush's 2002 State of the Union address the president labeled Iran, Iraq and North Korea the "axis of evil,” Stassen said "Calling the three nations the 'axis of evil' and refusing to acknowledge any errors that he has made, that sets up a dichotomy between righteous United States and unrighteous 'axis of evil.’ [This] leads to a crusade in which Christians think the Christian thing to do is support war-making against an allegedly unrighteous enemy.”

I also discovered that other sources say, “Iraq is no threat to the U.S.” Bishop Gumbleton describes a land that was already in great turmoil after its eight-year war with Iran (1980-88). Now, after the Gulf War (1990-1991), “once-prosperous people beg openly on the streets. Plumbing, electricity, transportation, business and employment: All the systems necessary to a modern nation are held together with baling wire and even that is in short supply.” I could hardly believe my eyes when I discovered that according to the UNICEF (United Nations), “5,000 Iraqi children a month die from diarrhea, pneumonia, breathing problems and malnutrition as a result of the economic sanctions. Iraq has been allowed to sell $5.26 billion worth of oil for food and medicine every six months under the U.N. arrangements described by Patriarch Raphael, but this does not suffice to bring the nation’s people back from the brink. Economic sanctions have cut revenues by 90 percent!”

Chuck Colson when speaking of the Yugoslavia campaign and the Church’s involvement in past wars said, "The Vietnam-era protests weren't the only time that the Church argued against its own government's use of military force. During World War II, British clergy denounced their own government's carpet bombing of German cities. And before the Gulf War, many Christians raised serious Just War concerns. It was a healthy debate.

These Christians, right or wrong, at least recognized that a Christian's first allegiance is to the City of God. Whether Caesar listens or not, we are to be the conscience of society.

So if the campaign in Yugoslavia should tragically turn into a quagmire from which the U.S. can't extricate itself--a real possibility, many fear-- the blame will lie not only at the feet of the president and his administration, but also at the feet of those Christians who said nothing."

And You Think You Understand Suffering?

I just read a great book for my Contemporary Literature Class titled The Jungle. This novel by Upton Sinclair was first published in the early 1900s and had such shock value that the United States President, Theodore Roosevelt, ordered a federal investigation into the food industry, the book sold over 150,00 copies and Sinclair was able to become a national figure and run on the socialist ticket for congress. I thoroughly enjoyed reading The Jungle and I feel that the sensuality of life has been revealed to me in an unpredictable way. Raised in a strong republican family I scoffed at those who labeled themselves as ‘victims’ and reacted to life through the victim philosophy of the socialist cause. After reading Sinclair’s novel I have begun to think that just maybe there might be some truth to the impossibility of individuality and making it on one’s own by simply working harder. I have also realized that there is good in suffering and that until a person goes through brutal suffering a person has not authentically experienced the extent of being human. Suffering is good in for its own sake. I often have heard it argued that suffering is a means rather than an end; suffering is in place to help one become more appreciative. But, after vicariously feeling some of those same depths that Sinclair depicted through Jurgis (pronounced yar-gis), I believe that maybe suffering is in fact good.

Jurgis, a Lithuanian immigrant who had come to Chicago because of rumors of becoming rich in America, continued working and though life was hard Jurgis and his family was able to continue earning money and stay alive until one unforeseen day in the middle of a harsh winter when a steer broke loose at the stockyards and Jurgis, in an effort to leap to safety, badly sprained his ankle. He tried to continue work, but soon the pain became so extreme that he almost fainted. Somehow he managed to make it home that night though the blistering snow, though he could scarcely see for the pain. After a visit to the doctor he and the family realized with terror in their hearts that Jurgis would be unable to return to work for at least three months. His seventeen and half cents an hour job would surely be given away in a matter of hours to one of the hundreds of unemployed men waiting out in the cold for work and there was no such thing as suing your employer or workers compensation. Jurgis family would soon be out of money and they were still in the bitter months of winter. For Jurgis, shivering and painfully now lying in his bed in the drafty threadbaren place that he called home:

It was like seeing the world fall away from underneath his feet; like plunging down into a bottomless abyss, and to yawning caverns of despair. It might be true, then, after all, what others had told him about life, that the best powers of a man might not be equal to it! It might be true that, strive as he would, toil as he would, he might fail, and go down and be destroyed! The thought of this was like an icy hand at his hearth; the thought that here, in this ghastly home of all horror, he and all those who were dear to him might lie and perish of starvation and cold and there would be no ear to hear their cry, no hand to help them! It was true, it was true—that there in this huge city, with its stores of heaped-up wealth, human creatures” might die without the slightest share of mercy (111-112).

Sinclair, Upton. The Jungle. New York: Airmont, 1965.