Rule of Life

As an Order, we commit to a Rule of Life that involves things like a commitment to praying the Daily Office, a weekly participation in the Eucharist, et cetera. But the goal of this “rule” is the intentional, devotional discipline to growing in grace, resisting sin and temptation, and ordering our worship, work, and leisure as a pleasing sacrifice to God (Romans 12:1-2).

Most of us need some kind of “rule of life” because we default too easily to our fallen nature, which is disordered, distracted, and self-centered. Without intentionally infusing new habits--like we embrace in the Order--bad, unChristlike habits often rule our lives, dulling our capacity to be fully human and matured in Christ.

Beginning to Pray

One of the potential dangers of the Daily Office is the will's role in it. We "will" to pray--which can be too strong and actually dampen the effects of the prayer leading to pride over the fact that we DID pray.

This is why it is a great idea to open the Office with a moment of silence in a sense of contemplation and humility. In contemplation we lift our hearts in humble love to God without any deliberate flow of thoughts or words--it's good to take a couple breaths and pause just a few moments. Here we surrender control; here we blunt the ego; here we enter the dance of prayer without trying to be the "lead" dancer--we come to him who is Almighty and All in All. And he's smiling that we've come... 

Now begin with that opening verse.

Lament

On the issue of lament...I'm convinced this is one of the great absences of modern Evangelical faith that must be recaptured. However, it is not a simple issue. I know we know this, but it’s not what we know but what we keep saying that sticks…

Mat 5:4 claims, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” However, we are not oriented to mourning. Most of our Evangelical/Charismatic ethos is celebration and victory (this is pretty much our American ethos as well). We run immediately to the FIX of redemption, not patiently facing what it is we are ultimately redeemed from. We don’t want to face suffering head on—to taste or experience its loss.

Walter Brueggemann writes:

“Jesus sees that only those who mourn will be comforted.  Only those who embrace the reality of death will receive the new life.  Implicit in his statement is that those who do not mourn will not be comforted and those who do not face the endings will not receive the newness ... I used to think it curious that, when having to quote Scripture on demand, someone would inevitably say, 'Jesus wept.'  It is usually done as a gimmick to avoid having to quote a longer passage.  But now I understand the depth of that verse. Jesus knew what we numb ones must always learn again: (a) that weeping must be real because endings are real; and (b) that weeping permits newness. His weeping permits the kingdom to come. Such weeping is a fearful dismantling because it means the end of all machismo; weeping is something kings rarely do without losing their thrones.  Yet the loss of thrones is precisely what is called for…”

So, my first impulse would be to urge people to not rush past loss to fix. We must be patient and grieve / morn for comfort to come.

Secondly, I would argue that we need to realize lament demands a great sense of intimacy. In the movie, Rendition, an abduction-thriller film about the CIA that came out a few years ago, there is this riveting scene where one of the main characters, “Abbas-i” is a high-ranking official who is the target of a terrorist bomb. He has a daughter (Fatima) who inadvertently ends up close to where the bomb, which is to kill Abbas-i, her father and she ends up being killed herself.

The tension of this moment is that Abbas-i and his wife have been having an ongoing argument about his dangerous position and how it was putting their whole family at risk—but Abbas-i’s resolve to serve his country was unbending. The scene is when Abbas-i, after actively looking for his missing daughter for days, walks into the room to his wife after discovering their daughter was killed with the bomb being targeted for him. Without a word, the wife sees in Abbas-i’s eyes what happened. In sheer grief she begins to scream and run to Abbas-i hitting him on his chest with gut-wrenching tears. He just stood there and took it gently holding on to his wife’s shoulders as she hit him. She quickly exhausts and falls into Abbas-i’s arms and he holds her in silence as she continues to sob.

She was blaming him (though she knew he didn’t directly do this0.

He was letting her blame him, willing to take her punches and was simply present. 

When I saw this I thought: “This is lament.”

It is something of great intimacy. We can dare to blame God precisely because on some level we believe he could have prevented it and yet we know he is good. 

Ps. 10:1 says, ”Why do you stand so far off O, Lord, and hide yourself in time of trouble." 

This is why I love the Psalms...these are gut, honest prayers--not theology. Just like a close friend or spouse telling you, "I hate you right now" over some disappointment or hurt. That person would be uttering FEELINGS, not belief or truth.

I think in times of heartache it's right to vent feelings about “why Lord” or when we are hit with the sense that things are not fair.

Stuffing these feelings thinking we are being faithful is a deception.

God knows our hearts and invites us to complain in prayer (this is why these lament prayers fill many sections of sacred text)—with the caveat that after you throw-up on God (and that is what it is), we remember he has historically been faithful and able towards you. 

Later in Psalm 10, the psalmist continues: "Surely you behold trouble and misery; you see it and take it into your own hand." In the end, God is faithful. But we should avail ourselves to praying the psalms during evil times in order to process the disappointment of pain and trouble.

I blather on to simply ask, Can we really lament without understanding it? Maybe until lament becomes an understood and practiced expression we need to simply "pray for" people...I'm not sure that people actually feel close enough to God to actually lament in its proper sense. 

The first person I ever saw that seemed to have this was a Catholic nun in the 70's. She looked at me and flatly said, "I threw my Bible at God today." 

I said in shock, "What?" 

She told me again and I asked her why. She said, "I told him that I was his bride [then told me parenthetically "I'm a nun, you know. I see Christ as my husband."], and I told him that he needs to start treating me like a woman."

My first thought was, "And you lived to talk about it?!"

But something else rose up in me. I thought, "Man, I wish I was that close to God to be that honest."

I'm not sure many are. And if they are not, I'm not sure we can truly lament as congregations without more training. But prayer is good.

Simplicity

I was thinking about the aspect of our vow that embraces "simplicity." I was wondering how in the world we tangibly embrace that value... I'm self-aware enough that I see glimpses of systemic behaviors in me about clothing, gadgets, and general stuff, along with my penchant to toss things before they are broken (yikes!). And I am shocked at the statistic that the USA contains 5% of the population while we consume about 23-26% of the world's energy in goods and services--obviously something is wrong systemically.

Another way in which I am addressing the issue of simplicity is in the area of my work. I am a classic perfectionist, where is to say that everything has to be the best it can be before I want anyone to see/experience it.

My penchant reminds me of the story of Mary and Martha, where Martha appears to be upset that preparations are less than they should be when Jesus comes by for lunch. She asks Jesus to ask Mary to help. Jesus replies, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one." In one reading of this text Jesus is saying: "Martha, stop with trying to pull off a gourmet dinner...just get something simple...maybe just some PB&Js...There is something more going on here than what YOU come up with, which Mary has picked up on."

This speaks of a simplicity that is unafraid of judgment when it comes to work output. Sometimes absolute excellence is required; other times simply button-up PB&Js are great and we should throw them out there.

Knowing vs. Doing

I want to remind us that KNOWING what and why we are doing is helpful, but not necessarily the most important aspect of what we doing. DOING is more important than KNOWING. Think of how many things you know (like eating healthy or exercising) that do NOT impact your life. It is when we ACT that things get HABITUATED in us--they capture us.

For the past several weeks I've been exercising every day and this morning was the first time I felt my body longing for it. Something is changing in me and goes beyond my head. This is true for the Office too. I've been doing this for years and I find my soul leaning into doing it without thinking of why or what I am exactly doing. It's more habit that I careen towards almost without thought. Think of the words of James 1:22, "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."

James KA Smith claims it is what is HABITUATED that actually transforms us. I think it is as important to trust the process as to want to learn why. I'm not suggesting that LEARNING is not important--it is. And it helps to motivate us to become habituated, but that being said...let's simply do...it will pay off!

Interestingly, philosophically the modern age has reduced our anthropology to us being THINKING BEINGS primarily (Cartesian epistemology)--or as Smith says, "Brains on a stick". This pervades the way we approach our spirituality in the West--we think if we get it down in our heads, we'll have it down. But that is far from the truth. And I think this is WHY people who are going through rough patches in life (where nothing makes sense to their brains on a stick) are so captured by liturgy and Eucharist...it isn't something that has to be understood (mystery) and yet is seems to capture them in a formative, strengthening way. I'm convinced this is the magic in the sauce for a 21st century community to face our helter-skelter world...this informed but HABITUATED spirituality.

A Prayer for Goodness

Here is a beautiful prayer that reminds us that we cannot live as we should without the help of God himself:

"Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen."

Remember this whenever you are less human than you want to be--we are never very good at life because we have "unruly wills," but God is so good he will not cease until he has made us good with his goodness.

On Faith & Work

Over the years I have caught myself trying to use my faith to find an easy way around hard work. The older I get the more I am convinced that faith leads me to be persevering more than it helps me skip or avoid hard, difficult places. I thought faith would preempt things like diabetes and it was a wake up call when it showed up in my body--then I found myself being led, not to pray for healing, but to pray for the resolve to do what I needed to do in order to get it under control (hard).

I think this is true in relationships/work/career decisions/et.al. Faith empowers us to handle hard more than it eliminates it. Texts like this one in Ecclesiastes 11:6 illustrate this point: "In the morning sow your seed, and at evening do not let your hands be idle; for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good." Faith keeps you moving, trusting God will evidence fruit, it does not protect you from unnecessary work by showing you where the harvest is first.

Dead Wood

This morning's reading is from Numbers 17 where the leaders of Israel brought their walking sticks that represented their individual tribes and laid them before God. These were pieces of wood that were once alive but were now dead. God touches one of them and this dead piece of wood brimmed with life: buds, blossoms and ripe almonds (nourishment).

I couldn't help but cry, "Lord, help us as an Order approach you when we feel like dead wood. Help us to simply lay our hearts and affections before you as we do the offices and cause life to bud and blossom in us. Let us bear fruit that nourishes our own lives, the lives of those close to us and anyone you bring across our path. Lord, hear our prayer."  Amen.

Why A Vow?

Why a Vow?

Those of us in the Order of St. Anthony are on a journey that is probably more theoretical than practical at this point. At this writing, we’ve only been on this trajectory a little over a year, but it has proven to be so provocative and engaging. The bottom line is all of us want a deeper relationship with God and we want to be more radical in our participation in the kingdom of God—not because we have to in order to be “saved,” but because we all get one shot at this gift called “life” and we want to live it as large as we can for God. 

Have you ever been hiking on a trail and noticed an old, faint footpath wandering off the main trail deeper into the woods? I love those. I can hardly resist the temptation to explore. Sometimes those tracks yield adventure and sometimes they simply wind right back to where you started (which makes them more of a waste of time than anything else). 

Making a vow to participate in a Rule of Life, like that in the Order of St. Anthony, is one of those less-traveled passageways. Though vow-making is virtually an unknown practice to we moderns, it was a very familiar practice to the ancients who have gone before us. Vows are simply promises we make to consistently practice the actions that communicate grace and strength to our souls. Consequently vow-making have the potential to help foster a robust spiritual life—a kind of healthy “steroid” for spiritual formation and discipleship. As we have wandered in this direction, it has been both intriguing and empowering, and, yet, on another level, dangerous (legalism and superstition always brood in the shadows of any intentional faith practice). But we really think this path is leading somewhere. 

It is true that intentional faith practices can devolve into legalistic religion that sullies the innocence of faith. But there is a good kind of religion. The word, “religion,” comes from the Latin religare, which means “to tie fast” or “to bind to.” Religion born from God’s initiative is pure, undefiled, innocent, and powerful. Good religion is doing the things that tie you to God’s graceful, unconditional love—it is choosing to respond to that love with a resounding “YES” in your soul. To be sure vow-making is about religion, but it’s about the “pure and faultless” kind described in Scripture (James 1:27).

A Misplaced Gem

In May of 2005, to the delight of Bach lovers everywhere, an unknown composition by Johann Sebastian Bach was discovered by a classical music scholar in Germany. There was no evidence that anyone had ever heard this composition, which was a two-page handwritten aria dated October 1713, when Bach was 28. The piece had been tucked away in a box of birthday cards given to Duke Wilhelm Ernst, whom Bach served as court organist. Bach enthusiasts did not need this piece of music to enjoy and love Bach. But from their perspective, they had discovered a misplaced gem.

We feel like “vow-making” is a misplaced gem. Except in the lives of a relative few, it has been hidden—“tucked away” for many years. Christ-lovers do not need this “gem” in order to enjoy and love Jesus, but we believe its discovery will delight the heart of all of us. Before those of us in the Order discovered it, we were not lost, but we are richer for the find. We think you will be too.

A Letter from the Bishop

Since my consecration into the CEEC this past Wednesday night I have had a number of people ask me, “Do you feel any different after being consecrated as a bishop?”

The short answer is, yes, I do feel different. I was profoundly moved and feel like something changed in me through this event. 

The longer answer is longer. 

I feel different because after all my studies in Church History and biblical study I have come to believe in what the ancients called: Holy Orders. The closest thing to Holy Orders in my Evangelical imagination was receiving, what many refer to, as a “call” of God into the ministry. The chief difference between a “call” from God into ministry and Holy Orders is that a “call” from God is generally understood as something that one experiences privately with no witnesses. In Holy Orders a “call” from heaven must be present, but there must also be a “call” from the church’s people and her leadership, who have been ordained and consecrated in Apostolic Succession (a big phrase that means Jesus laid hands on those who laid hands on those who laid hands on those who laid hands on those…up to today!). Holy Orders are corporate things—not just private. They are like baptism and Eucharist, which are also corporate things done with others and not private affairs. These sacraments (yes, Holy Orders were always considered sacraments historically) are practical and pragmatic ways we express our creedal statement: We believe in the communion of saints. 

I feel different because I felt the gravity of the questions I was asked before hands were laid upon me during my consecration:

• Are you persuaded that God has called you to the office of bishop?

• Will you accept this call and fulfill this trust in obedience to Christ?

• Will you be faithful in prayer, and in the study of Holy Scripture, that you may have the mind of Christ?

• Will you boldly proclaim and interpret the Gospel of Christ, enlightening the minds and stirring up the conscience of your people?

• As a chief priest and pastor, will you encourage and support all baptized people in their gifts and ministries, nourish them from the riches of God's grace, pray for them without ceasing, and celebrate with them the sacraments of our redemption?

• Will you guard the faith, unity, and discipline of the Church of God?

• Will you share with your fellow bishops in the government of the whole Church and strengthen those who minister in the Church? 

• Will you be merciful to all, show compassion to the poor and strangers, and defend those who have no helper?

I feel different because I believe something happened in the heavens and in my soul and in our church when the hands of individuals who were formed by bishops before them who were formed by bishops before them were placed on me. I felt through their hands: their hearts, their years of faithful ministry, and the weight of the history they bear. 

I feel different because I heard the cry of the people saying, “I do,” when asked if they wanted me to serve as a bishop in the Church of Christ. I heard those of you whom I love and have served for years “call” me into this new role as bishop. 

I felt something new when the bishops placed those various ancient symbols on my body:

The stole and chasuble, which represent being clothed with humility as a minister of the Sacrament of Christ's Body and Blood.

The pectoral cross which symbolizes my commitment to “take up the Cross” of Jesus Christ our Lord and bear it after him. 

The Bishop’s ring, which symbolizes the seal of faith and expressing my commitment to keep the faith and to guard and protect the holy Church which is the bride of God. 

The mitre (bishop’s hat) representing the helmet of protection and salvation. 

The cope representing one who goes amongst the churches celebrating the dignity and joy of the feasts of Christ's holy Church.

The crozier (hooked staff) representing that a bishop is one called to be a shepherd. 

A Bible, which affirms the bishop must always embrace the Word of God as a faithful steward and to feed the flock of Christ through the Word and Sacraments.

I feel a weight for the church that I have not felt before—at least with this kind of clarity. I want you to know that for whatever time I have left here on this planet I will do all I can to honor God and serve his people. 

Yes, I feel different—like something happened that has never happened to me. 

Thank you, Sanctuary. I know our journey over the past years has been full of changes that have often been a little outside of our past religious experience. Thank you for questioning but not judging. Thank you for your loving support and earnest obedience to the direction we feel God has been pulling us. 

Grace and Peace,

†Bishop Ed Gungor, CEEC

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Footnotes

1. We see this idea played out in the whole biblical story vis-à-vis the “laying on of hands” through Moses (Num. 27:18-20), Jesus (Mt. 10:1), the Apostles (Acts 6; 13:3; 1 Tim. 4:14; 2 Tim. 1:6; Heb. 6:2). This practice of “laying on of hands” to commission the “next” generation of people to carry the “same Spirit” as those who went before is seen throughout the history of the Church (this is what constitutes “Holy Orders”).

2. The notion of sacred garments that represent something spiritual is seen all the way back to the beginning of worship in the OT (Ex. 28:2; Ezra 3:10) and we know that clothing always was used to reveal roles people participated in all the way up to the modern world where the idea of personal expression through clothing emerged—though there are still many places where people's individuality disappears behind the garments that represent how they serve in the modern world (i.e. judges in the courtroom, police and military, nurses and doctors, etc.).