The Gay-After

From The Daily Show

Taize Pictures

I took a ton of pictures at Taize. They can be found here

The beauty of Silence

So as some of you know, I have recently returned home from Taize France. It was a marvelous trip. My experience as a whole is one that transcends words. However, over the past two weeks I have written various reflections as I continue to debrief and reflect on that which I experienced.

Adjusting back to the "real world" has been incredibly difficult for me. Life was just so much easier in Taize. The thing that has been toughest for me to adjust to is the silence - or in my case the lack thereof.

Before leaving for Taize I would avoid silence at all costs. My mind is a scary place, that should not be wandered into for too long. Even the silence during morning prayer, a whole minute or two tops, felt like a lifetime. For those of you who are firmiliar with Taize know there is a lot of silence. The first few services I tried to distract myself. I'd look around the church, sing a song, whatever it took to get through those 10 minutes.

On Tuesday I found myself in a real funk I just couldn't get out of. I'd tried to practice the silence, but the thoughts and other things running through my head were too hard to block out and too painful to deal with. Then someone told me something that I didn't want to hear, but knew to be true. Sometimes we hate to be with our own thoughts, it's unpleasant and hard, but maybe that is just where we need to be. After that I allowed myself - forced myself - to live into the silence. I struggled though the Friday night liturgy to deal with my thoughts. Then something happened, the silence moved me. (I'll speak more of this in a future post.)

I found myself at the end of the trip loving the silence, needing the silence. When I returned home, I hit the ground running. Everything was (and is) different. I found myself craving the silence I had at Taize. The brief moments of silence during Morning Prayer - the moments that used to feel like an eternity - lasts seconds. I found myself going to church randomly during the day to find that quiet space I needed.

I realized how easy it is at home to fill our lives with thousands of things that distract us from what is most important. That silence helped me work though some issues that I needed to face, and I'm thankful for the knowledge of that tool.

I hope that we can all take time and be silent. That we can listen for that small still voice of God calling us. When we allow ourselves to be silent it is then that we can find that powerful voice telling us to not be afraid and that we are loved.

Kisses

This was shown to me and almost brought me to tears.

I know it has only been three months, but you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'm so blessed to have you in my life. Thanks for opening my eyes. To us in 40 years.


Minnie Bruce Pratt and Leslie Feinberg

The following can be found here


The Ritz

Just before we sleep, I stroke your back and begin a favorite fantasy, how we met each other when we were very young. Outside the Ritz movie theater in thick summer night, I am a slightly plump teenager, self-conscious in white short-shorts and sandals, waiting with friends to see Pillow Talk or Where the Boys Are. You are a stranger, the only person no one knows. ("What am I wearing?" you say. "Blue jeans, and a white t-shirt, and sneakers." "Yes! How did you know?" "I do know you," I say. You murmur, to yourself, "Did you really have on short-shorts then?") Someone taunts you with where you are from, but you flirt with me in front of everyone. (And you in the present begin to talk to me: "What's your name? What a pretty name. Will you take a walk with me?")

The other boys and girls have done nothing but tease me about my name since we began school together when we were six. Suspicious, they watch me on the edge of something dangerous, talking to a strange boy, in the spill of light from the street lamp. Junebugs skid through the air and thud into us. Doris Day's poster face, virginal and blonde, smiles secretively at us. I watch myself looking at you, wanting what I can't even name. I ask you, "Are you really a boy?" And you say, "Yes....No." We pay our fifteen cents to go sit in torn vinyl seats. You want to put your arm around me, but I say, "No, everyone is watching. Around here, that's almost the same as getting married." You hold my hand instead and whisper in my ear how sweet I am. I say, "You are too nice to be a boy." Sometimes when we play at being teenagers, you coax me, "Please let me touch your breasts," and my nipples heat up and then flare out in the fear of being touched. Then I begin to cry, bitter hot tears, wanting so badly to be a girl who had you for her first kiss, her first everything.

Kisses

We climb down the stairs to your gym, a basement of grey gun-metal machines lined up in rows, each array of equipment designed to augment a specific segment of the body, the deltoids, the pectorals. It looks like the inside of a factory, a body factory. You say you work out early in the morning because then you can take your time. No men waiting in line for their turn while you wrestle with yourself to sweat on the weights as long as you need to. The bulletin board has a magazine picture up, a row of women with defined and staring muscles. You point to the woman who is most sculpted, whose muscles are most precise, and say she lost the body-building competition because she had gone too far toward masculinity. The judges preferred more blur in a woman's body. You say you want me to come with you one day as you work out, to spot you, my hand out to break and balance a slip as you lift. I say that I'll murmur, "You can do one more, baby, one more for me," while I kiss the back of your sweaty neck. But you demur: No kissing here.

It's a gay gym, but a few heterosexual couples insist they can do it anywhere they please, the man and woman who rolled writhing on the mats, while the infrequent men caught at it with each other in the bathroom are always kicked out. Though we are two women, here we'd be seen as heterosexual, and resented. No, no kissing here.

In the Tastee Diner we've had our french fries and cole slaw and a shared chocolate milkshake. Full of comfort, I put down the tip, you go pay the check. When you come back to the red plastic booth, some old 60s song is playing. You take me in your arms and begin to dance with me in the aisle between the booths and the coat racks. At the next table two women are scandalized, their eyebrows in O's of astonishment. Later you joke that they wanted to hold you responsible, to say, "Young man, this is not a dance hall." But I was moving with you far beyond boyfriend and girlfriend, beyond a lingering kiss taken over lunch. I was giving myself to you in the way I have perfected over the years since the summer night I stood by another butch lover, drinking beer outside the hidden back door of a small town gay bar. Since the moment a drunk white man staggered out past us, and began to taunt me with his invitation, "What are you doing with her? Come with me. I can give it to you." Bewildered, I turned my back on him, moved closer to her, put my hand on her bare muscled forearm. Whoever she was, she was not a man, and I was not the woman he thought I was. But in daylight, in public, in a parked car near her job, she wouldn't let me kiss her.

I have waited years for you who wants to flaunt me on her arm, my face radiant with desire, as if I'd put my face deep into a lily, heavy with pollen, and raised it to you, smeared and smelly with butter yellow, sated but not yet satisfied, our meal not yet finished as I cling to you in the aisle of the dilapidated diner.

Daily effects of straight privilege

This was posted in the Unity Center at Rhode Island College. Enjoy!



This article is based on Peggy McIntosh's article on white privilege and was written by a number os straight-identified students at Earlham College who got together to look at some examples of straight privilege. These dynamics are but a few examples of the privilege which straight people have. Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and queer-identified folk have a range of different experiences, but cannot count on most of these conditions in their lives.

On a daily basis as a straight person . . .

• I can be pretty sure that my roommate, hallmates and classmates will be comfortable with my sexual orientation.
  
• If I pick up a magazine, watch TV, or play music, I can be certain my sexual orientation will be represented.
  
• When I talk about my heterosexuality (such as in a joke or talking about my relationships), I will not be accused of pushing my sexual orientation onto others.
• I do not have to fear that if my family or friends find out about my sexual orientation there will be economic, emotional, physical or psychological consequences.
  
• I did not grow up with games that attack my sexual orientation (IE fag tag or smear the queer).
• I am not accused of being abused, warped or psychologically confused because of my sexual orientation.
• I can go home from most meetings, classes, and conversations without feeling excluded, fearful, attacked, isolated, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, stereotyped or feared because of my sexual orientation.
• I am never asked to speak for everyone who is heterosexual
• I can be sure that my classes will require curricular materials that testify to the existence of people with my sexual orientation.
  
• People don't ask why I made my choice of sexual orientation.
• People don't ask why I made my choice to be public about my sexual orientation.
  
• I do not have to fear revealing my sexual orientation to friends or family. It's assumed.
• My sexual orientation was never associated with a closet.
  
• People of my gender do not try to convince me to change my sexual orientation.
• I don't have to defend my heterosexuality.
• I can easily find a religious community that will not exclude me for being heterosexual.
• I can count on finding a therapist or doctor willing and able to talk about my sexuality.
• I am guaranteed to find sex education literature for couples with my sexual orientation.
  
• Because of my sexual orientation, I do not need to worry that people will harass me.
  
• I have no need to qualify my straight identity.
  
• My masculinity/femininity is not challenged because of my sexual orientation.
• I am not identified by my sexual orientation
  
• I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help my sexual orientation will not work against me.
• If my day, week, or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether it has sexual orientation overtones.
  
• Whether I rent or I go to a theater, Blockbuster, an EFS or TOFS movie, I can be sure I will not have trouble finding my sexual orientation represented.
  
• I am guaranteed to find people of my sexual orientation represented in the Earlham curriculum, faculty, and administration.
• I can walk in public with my significant other and not have people double-take or stare.
  
• I can choose to not think politically about my sexual orientation.
• I do not have to worry about telling my roommate about my sexuality. It is assumed I am a heterosexual.
• I can remain oblivious of the language and culture of LGBTQ fold without feeling in my culture any penalty for such oblivion.
  
• I can go for months without being called straight.
• I'm not grouped because of my sexual orientation.
• My individual behavior does not reflect on people who identify as heterosexual.
  
• In everyday conversation, the language of my friends and I use generally assumes my sexual orientation. For example, sex inappropriately referring to only heterosexual sex or family meaning heterosexual relationships with kids.
  
• People do not assume i am experienced in sex (or that I even have it!) merely because of my sexual orientation.
• I can kiss a person of the opposite gender on the heart of in the cafeteria without being watched or stared at.
  
• Nobody calls me straight with maliciousness.
• People can use terms that describe my sexual orientation and mean positive things (IE "Straight as an arrow", "standing up straight" or "straightened out") instead of demeaning terms (IE "ewww, that's gay" or being "queer").
• I am not asked to think about why I am straight.
  
• I can be open about my sexual orientation without worrying about my job.
  

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Yesterday was the feast day of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer was a Luthern who ran an underground seminary in Germany during the reign of Hilter. He was eventually arrested and killed. He stood up for his faith in a time when you could be killed for it.

Bonhoeffer is probably my favorite modern day saint. He is my role model to put up with all the crap of life. Not that I am persecuted for my faith, but I find him an inspiration for something else. Being gay is not easy. I constantly have to deal with verbal abuse and the occasional physical abuse. Last night after my chime rehearsal I walked from St. Paul's to Dunkin' Donuts, to the Ground Round, and finally back to church. While I was walking from Dunkin' to the Ground Round, a group of guys were sitting next to a truck parked in a parking lot. One of them yelled out to me and called me an "f***ing fag." They kept yelling until I was out of site. I didn't say anything to them or acknowledge them, because I didn't want to start anything more serious.

Stuff like that happens to me, and many of my friends, more often then it should. But, when it does I'm reminded of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Here was a man who did not let discrimination stand in his way of leading the life God was calling him to lead. He is an example to me that I should not let intolerance stand in the way of who God made me to be. If he could be true to himself facing persecution, arrest, and eventually death, I can certain be true to myself facing some very limited persecution.

May Dietrich Bonhoeffer be an example to use all. May his life be for us a reminder to be the person that God calls us to be through the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Gracious God, the Beyond in the midst of our life, you gave grace to your servant Dietrich Bonhoeffer to know and to teach the truth as it is in Jesus Christ, and to bear the cost of following him; Grant that we, strengthened by his teaching and example, may receive your word and embrace its call with an undivided heart; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Discrimination hurts everyone

Today at RIC we experienced a hate crime. April is Queer Awareness month so RIC Rainbow put a banner in Donovan Dinning center advertising the month. On the poster is a picture of two men kissing. This morning someone decided to cut out the picture of the two men. This was after earlier this week someone taring the banner down completely.

I'll post more later when I have some more time to write. I'll leave you with this one thought for now:

Discrimination hurts everyone.

Please pray for the Queer community at RIC, the person(s) responsible for this act, and for the wider RIC community as a whole.

The gift of communion

Thanks to Scott Gunn for posting about this opportunity over at Seven Whole Days

If the efforts of a few people are successful, the Anglican Communion as we know it will not survive to the end of this year. From the right, there are puritan forces who wish to maintain a strict code of moral theology, expelling all those who disagree with their view. From the left, there are those, especially in the US, who believe that we should proceed with our prophetic purpose, regardless of its effects on other people in other cultures.

In other words, our very Communion is threatened.

Read the rest of the article and the statement here.

I think it's really important that the Anglican Communion exists. Being a band geek I think of much of life in terms of music. I see the Anglican communion like a band. Each province representing a difference section. Now sure each section can play on their own. There are tons of clarinet choirs and trumpet trios. But, only when they come together - all the parts as one - do they form a band. You can't have a band without the clarinets, or saxophones, or percussion. Just like you can't have the Anglican Communion without Nigeria, England, and the United States. It is our differences - our unique sounds - that allow us to come together and make beautiful music to our God.

Let us keep working together to maintain the beautiful music of our Anglican Communion, that we may continue to better serve each other and thus our God.

The Easter sermon of John Chrysostom

Are there any who are devout lovers of God?
Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival!

Are there any who are grateful servants?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any weary with fasting?
Let them now receive their wages!

If any have toiled from the first hour,
let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour,
let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour,
let him not doubt; for he too shall sustain no loss.
And if any delayed until the ninth hour,
let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.
For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him that toiled from the first.

To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.
Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!

First and last alike receive your reward;
rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!
You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!

Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one.
Let no one go away hungry. Partake, all, of the cup of faith.
Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.

Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.

Let no one fear death, for the Death of our Savior has set us free.
He has destroyed it by enduring it.
He destroyed Hell when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.

Isaiah foretold this when he said,
"You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below."
Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.

Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.

O death, where is thy sting?
O Hell, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, o death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!

Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!


The Easter sermon of John Chrysostom (circa 400 AD)

Alleluia the Lord is Risen!

Alleluia, the Lord is Risen.
The Lord is Risen indeed, Alleluia!

So the Easter Vigil at Church was absolutely amazing! Plus after the service I could have coffee again, and there was cake! I can't think of a better way to celebrate Easter.

I hope to have some more thoughts on Easter later today. But, for now. HAPPY EASTER!

Good Friday

I've always had this particular idea about Good Friday. I've always thought that it is supposed to be this really sad day - I mean Christ is dead. I've always thought that when we read the passion Gospel and got to the point where the congregation says "Crucify him!" that I should get all chocked up. Heck I've always worn all (or mostly all) black to the Good Friday Liturgy. But, for the first time tonight I was told that we don't need to be sad. Tonight at Church I heard a sermon that stated something that should be so obvious. Now, I'll be honest a lot happened during the service and I don't remember much of the sermon. I think, however, that I heard what I needed to hear. Tonight we - the congregation - were asked if we were basically acting. If we were, last night, acting confused at what our teacher and friend was talking about. If we were, tonight, scared at what will happen next. Doing it as if pretending that we were experiencing it all for the first time. But, we shouldn't be doing that. We know what is going to happen. All anyone had to do tonight was flip a couple of pages in the Triduum bulletin and they would see the The Great Vigil of East our principle resurrection eucharist.

I can't remember where the sermon went from their unfortunately. But, I think we shouldn't be sad. There is something more, this isn't the end. We know that tomorrow night we will celebrate The Great Vigil of Easter we will say the "A-word" I will no longer have to observe my lenten fast and can have coffee again. So what does this mean for us? How should we remember Good Friday? Maybe I should of taken notes during the sermon so I would have something more to write. We shouldn't be sad. Yes, we should remember Christ's death. It is a very important part of the story. But, we must remember that there is more and at this time tomorrow I we be celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and Savior.

So no more am I going to be all somber and depressed on Good Friday. I won't do some double speak, Orwellian trick to make it as if I have never experience the Triduum before. But, instead I will remember Christ's death and prepare to celebrate his resurrection.

I hope you all have had a wonderful Holy Week and Triduum thus far. Go to church tomorrow night and celebrate The Great Vigil of Easter. I feel confident in saying that no matter where you go it will be a wonderful service. They don't call it "great" for nothing.

p.s. If you are looking for a place to worship:
St. Paul's Pawtucket
Holy Saturday Liturgy of the Day - 9am
The Great Vigil of Easter - 7:30pm
Easter Sunday - 10:30am

Normal Sunday worship resumes on March 30th with services at 8am and 10:30am

Fish Eyes

I don't think I've written anything on here about this play I directed called Fish Eyes. Fish Eyes is a play about the story of Jesus' ministry as told through the eyes of Peter and Andrew. This past weekend was the performance, and I couldn't have been prouder of my two man cast. But, the play isn't about Doug, Dennis, and I. The play is about a message: a wonderful message.

Sometimes when we read the Gospels we just read them, we don't enter into relationship with them. We hear the same stories again and again and again, and after a while our imaginations stop working. This played allowed me to see the Gospels in a whole new way. Now when I hear the Gospels during church I close my eyes and I no longer hear the reader, but instead I see a scene from the play.

We are about to enter into the holiest time of the church year - Holy Week. A time where we will travel with Jesus into Jerusalem right up until his death and resurrection. I encourage you all to try to get to as many services as you can: to truly live out this time. I'm sure your church - or a church near you - is doing more services than you can count. Some will do as little as 5 others 11, 14, or even 16! As you sit in church or read scripture on your own, allow yourself to wonder what it would be like to be a part of one of - if not the - greatest events in history and not even know it. Allow yourself to feel the joy of entering into Jerusalem, the anger when he is arrested, to deny knowing him (cause we've all been there).

I don't know about the other people who been involved in the play, but personally I'm looking forward to Holy Week. To living out the scenes that we acted out in the play. To seeing myself walking into Jerusalem and standing with the crowd after His arrest. Thinking about the Gospels in new ways allows us to come to greater understanding of these stories and thus a greater understanding of Christ's ministry.

Seven whole days

Yesterday I put up the lyrics to one of my favorite hymns "King of glory, king of peace". In a rush to quickly get a George Herbert reference on the blog I forgot to put in a plug for a new blog. The Rev'd Scott Gunn is a friend of mine and priest-in-charge of Christ Church in Lincoln. He has a great new blog called Seven Whole Days (taken from the first line of the third verse of "King of glory, king of peace". I encourage you to check it out.

George Herbert

Today the Episcopal Church remembers the life and ministry of George Herbert. Herbert wrote the lyrics to one of my favorite hymns

So thanks George.

King of glory, King of peace,
I will love thee;
and that love may never cease,
I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request,
thou hast heard me;
thou didst note my working breast,
thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost art
I will sing thee,
and the cream of all my heart
I will bring thee.
Though my sins against me cried,
thou didst clear me;
and alone, when they replied,
thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,
I will praise thee;
in my heart, though not in heaven,
I can raise thee.
Small it is, in this poor sort
to enroll thee:
e’en eternity’s too short
to extol thee.
George Herbert, 1633

Time to say goodbye

This past Sunday - Feb 17, 2008 - was the Second Sunday in Lent. But, for me it was much more than that. It was one final Sunday at Christ Church in Lincoln. When I told Scott, the priest-in-charge, of Christ Church that I would be leaving he offered to have a liturgical goodbye.

The service was called "The Sending Forth of Members of our Community" and it went a little something like this.

Presider The Lord shall watch over your going out and your coming in:
People From this time forth forevermore.
The Presider offers thanks to the departing members for their ministry in this community.

Let us pray,

O God, whose glory fills the whole creation, and whose presence we find wherever we go: Preserve these people; surround them with your loving care; protect them from every danger; and bring them joy in their new home; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.

Then all the People, with the Presider, say together

May the road rise up to meet you,
and the wind be always at your back;
may the sun shine warm upon your face,
the rains fall soft upon your fields,
until we meet again;
may God hold you in the palm of his hand.
Amen.

The service continues with the Peace

It was a truly moving and special moment for me. As a special bonus, I was asked to serve as a Eucharistic minister during the service - to administer the chalice during communion. It was an added blessing to be able to share in communion with the Chris Church family, in that special way, one last time.

It was the perfect ending to one of the greatest chapters of my life and ministry. I am forever grateful to the people of Christ Church for their love and support over the years. I now move on to a new chapter, to the next stage God is calling me to. I feel all the more ready knowing I have the prayers and support of this my first Church family.

A discernment story

I recently came to the conclusion that it was time for me to leave Christ Church. A place that had been my home, and a people that have been my family for the past ten years. On coming to this conclusion the priest-in-charge, The Rev'd Scott Gunn, asked me to write a letter to the parish about my discernment on leaving. Copied below is that letter, which appeared in the bulletin on my last Sunday there.

“Almighty and everlasting God, by whose Spirit the whole body of your faithful people is governed and sanctified: Receive our supplications and prayers, which we offer before you for all members of your holy Church, that in their vocation and ministry they may truly and devoutly serve you; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen”
Collect For the Ministry (Ember Days)
III. For all Christians in their vocation.
BCP pg. 256

Throughout life God calls us to do new things, to journey to new places. We, having received these calls, must then discern what God is asking of us. This is my story of discernment.

One of the greatest joys in my life is journeying to the altar week by week to receive communion. The experience, for me, transcends words. There are times when my spiritual connection with God during the Liturgy is so strong, that I have been moved to tears. However, about three years ago that feeling faded away. I had no connection to the service, and everything I did was just going through the motions. At first I assumed this to be natural, just part of the ebb and flow of spiritual life. I figured one day the feeling would come back, so I put it out of my mind and went on with life.

As my ministry grew I traveled to various national church events. Each event included daily worship of some kind, primarily a Eucharistic celebration. At each celebration I felt my connection with God growing stronger and stronger. I was grateful to renew this connection, but puzzled as to why it was happening at these events and not at Christ Church. To avoid any discomfort that might come from deeper prayer and thought, I rationalized each situation. “This one was with fifteen hundred other young people,” or, “Well, of course there is an intense feeling here. I’m at a candle lit Eucharist with other students who want to be ordained,” or “Its General Convention, of course the service is amazing.” After each event I came home, and returned to the routine of my worship life. Shortly after returning home form General Convention I decided to add a weeknight Eucharist to my spiritual life. The most convenient service for me to attend was the Wednesday night Eucharist at St. Paul’s Pawtucket. After the first week or two my spiritual connection was back. I was being spiritually nourished in ways that I had not been in years. Like all the other experiences I tried to rationalize them. But as the weeks went on my connection grew stronger and stronger. I had to face the music. I had to ask myself, “What is God calling me to?”

After a year of these services, it became clear what I needed to do. But, luckily I did not have to face it because I was moving to Maine for school. My plan changed when I transferred out of the University of New England to Rhode Island College. I had come back home, and I needed to face my problem.

At first I tried being apart of two congregations. Worshipping at the eight o’clock service at Christ Church, and the ten-thirty at St. Paul’s. For a while, that was working great. I was getting the worship experience I needed, while spending time with my family at Christ Church. However, that did not last long. The more time I spent at St. Paul’s the more I felt God calling me to be apart of that community.

It was an incredibly difficult decision to make. For the past ten years, the people here at Christ Church have been my family. I always felt at home at Christ Church, and it is probably safe to say that I spent more time here than at my actual home. So much of who I am today, is a reflection of my life and ministry here. You helped shape and form me into the person I am today, and for that I am truly thankful.

I believe that God is calling me to a new stage of my ministry, much as He is calling Christ Church to a new stage. I hope we can always listen for God’s call. We must open our hearts and minds to the discernment process He is leading us to. It is an exciting time in the life and ministry of Christ Church, and this is an exciting time for me. There are so many wonderful opportunities to shape and form Christ Church into the place God is calling it to be, and to form the person I am called to be. It will not always be easy. We must wrestle with God just like Jacob did, and in time He will reveal His plan for you and for me.

This is not “goodbye”, but instead “I’ll see you around”. Christ Church will always hold a special place in my heart, and will always have my deepest gratitude. I will continue to keep all of you in my prayers, and hope you keep me in yours.

Your fellow servant in Christ,
Dee Tavolaro

My personal trinity

So I wrote this paper for my writing class, but ended up not using it. When I showed my work to the TA she really liked it. Thought it would be a good sermon or opinion piece on what it means to be a priest or what it means to be a Christian. It is just a draft, but there it is.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to new understanding with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never ever the same.”

I have spent a great deal of time hanging around churches over the past seven years. I guess that’s what happens when you feel that God is calling you to the Priesthood. On my journey, I have encountered many wonderful people. But, three stand out above the rest. To put it simply, they have become my own personal trinity.

I first met The Rev’d John Van Siclen in March of 2005. It was then that he started his time as Interim Rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Lincoln Rhode Island – my former parish. I was apprehensive at first, to allow myself to build a relationship with John. I was extremely close with the priest who served at Christ Church before John. Her departure left me absolutely devastated. Just as quickly as our relationship developed she was gone. It was as if when she left she took my trust with her. I wasn’t about to put myself in a situation where I would get close with John just in time for him to leave. But, it seemed the more I tried to stay away the closer we became. It all started over a cup of coffee.

Every Sunday between the two services, John and I would go down to Dunkin’ Donuts for what I called “Joe with John”. We talked about anything and everything. But, more often than not we ended up talking about church politics. John had a really good sense of all that was going on in the wider church. I took our time together as an opportunity to learn about the polity of the church. Who the big players are, what the issues were, and all that jazz. As time went on, John took me to different events around the Diocese of Rhode Island. Introducing me to various people, and helping me establish my own name on that level. He even did the same at a National Church convention we attended. He helped me build relationships around the church, relationships that would benefit me now and in the future. Part of being a priest – like anything else – is building a network, a safety net; around you of people who can help you expand your ministry. John not only helped me lay the foundation of my network, but he helped me remember that it is ok to trust others. That it is important to risk being hurt, in order to get close to others.

They say that laughter is the best medicine. Well if that is the case than The Rev’d Susan Wrathall is the best doctor around. Mother Susan works as the Assistant to the Rector at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Pawtucket Rhode Island – my home parish. If I ever went to church feeling a little blue or wasn’t having a good day, one conversation with Mother Susan would change that completely. In fact, I can’t really remember an encounter with Mother Susan where I didn’t laugh at some point.
A big part of Mother Susan’s ministry revolves around Christian formation, or in other words, Christian education. In July of 2007 I had the opportunity to work with Mother Susan in one of the greatest forms of Christian formation there is – Chaplain’s time at ECC. ECC is the Episcopal Conference Center. Among other things it serves as the Diocese of Rhode Island summer camp. Mother Susan served as the Chaplain for younger children’s camp, and I have the privilege of being her assistant. Throughout the week, we shared different Bible stories with the kids. At times she would even teach them a song to go with it. I don’t think I will ever again laugh as hard I did when she started sing and doing hand gestures to the song “Who built the ark?”
“Who built the ark? Noah! Noah!” she would sing as she threw her hands in air. “Who built the ark? Brother Noah built the ark!”
I always knew she took her ministry very seriously, but it was then I learned that she didn’t take herself so seriously. She could laugh at herself, make things enjoyable and fun for other, and have a great time doing it. Things can get very difficult in the life of the church, and sometimes the only thing you can do is have a good laugh and sing a little song.

Besides camp, and everyday life around the church there is something else very important that I have been able to share with Mother Susan. Every once in a while after Morning Prayer, I’ll go with Mother Susan to drop off whatever collection the church has just finished. Sometimes we would deliver school supplies, and sometimes it was coats. Going and dropping these things off allowed me to see the difference we were making. It was on these trips that I was reminded of the importance of service. That the life of a priest is the life of service, and that above all that is what they are there for. To reach out to those in need, to love, to care, to work, and to share.

The Rev’d Bill Locke is possibly the greatest priest I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is a quiet and humble man, who truly understands the pastoral nature of the priesthood. He is always there lifting up others for there work, without mention of himself. I had met Bill a few times here and there, but really my first opportunity to get to know him was at a national church convention during the summer of 2006. At first he seemed like just your average parish priest. But, shortly after our return home I would learn that there was something special about him. At a follow up meeting for the convention Bill showed up in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt. When he saw me, he said, “Dude! How you doing?” I still had no clue what was so different about him, but I knew whatever it was I liked it.

My favorite part of the Episcopal Church is the liturgy. There is something so moving, so fulfilling, so comforting about a well-done liturgy. I can’t explain it, but no one does liturgy like Bill Locke. There is something about attending worship at St. Paul’s that is just different than any other church around – something special. He has shown me new depths of liturgy that I didn’t know existed. The prayers are said with a sense of passion and seriousness. They aren’t just read like you would read a story, they are believed. The level of musical excellence allows the worshipper to close their eyes, and enter into mediation. It is there purely to enhance the prayer, and not as some sort of mini concert. Every element of the worship service – the liturgy – is carefully planed. Each move, each prayer, set to allow those present to put their daily distractions behind them and truly focus on God. Through example he taught me not only to bring my life to the liturgy, to come longing for spiritual nourishment. But to also bring the liturgy to my life, and spread the light and message of Christ with others.

Very quickly Bill became more than just another priest. He became my priest and my friend. He was always there to listen, to give advice, and to offer his prayers. During the Fall Semester I found myself in a bit of trouble. I had started smoking cigarettes again, and drinking became an everyday thing whether it was with friends or alone. I couldn’t take it any more. I had to share what was going on with someone. One morning I found myself sitting at my computer and confessing everything to Bill in an email. Later that afternoon, I was driving back up to Maine for school. On the way to the highway I passed by my church and I saw Bill’s car in the parking lot. I knew I had to stop. I couldn’t just let it go with the email. I knocked on his office door to see if he had time to talk. As he got up from his desk he said, “I’m glad you stopped by.” With that he gave me a big hug. It was in that moment that I knew things would be ok. They weren’t going to be easy, but in time all would be fine. We talked for maybe an hour or so. At the end of our conversation he said two things to me that I will never forget. He told me that he was good at receiving calls from college, as he has two grown daughters of his own, and that if I ever needed to talk that I should call him. Then he told me that I shouldn’t give up because things would get better. He told me that I was special and that there were a lot of people who cared about me and loved me. He gave me another hug, and sent me on my way. As I pulled away from the church I knew he truly cared, and that was the greatest gift I could ask for. Bill showed me what it truly means to be a pastor.
It was all starting to connect. That trust that I had regained through my friendship with John, allowed me to connect with Bill. It allowed me to reach out in my time of greatest need, and get the love and support I needed to make it through. I put myself in an extremely vulnerable situation by confessing my behavior to Bill. I had to trust that he in return would treat that vulnerability with respect, kindness, and support.

I truly believe that each person is a reflection of those who they learn form, and those whom they love. As we watch those around us, we learn from them, and apply those lessons to our own life. As Glinda and Elphaba sing in the song “For Good” from the Broadway Musical Wicked:

I’ve heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today
Because I knew you . . .
. . . I have been changed for good.

I believe that my life and ministry – now and in the years to come – is a reflection of those clergy and people I have known and loved. I hope that my ministry can be a reflection of my personal trinity. That I can learn to be open with others, entrust them with my vulnerability, and allow them to trust me with theirs. That I may never take myself too seriously, and can always remember the value of a good laugh and a little song. That I may live a life of service, going into the world to love, to care, to work, and to share. That I may, most importantly, love and care for those for are entrusted to my care. I hope that one day I leave footprints in the heart of someone the way they have for me. I hope that one day, because of knowing me, someone is changed for good.

Christmas

So as any person involved in the church will tell you, it has been a pretty crazy two days. But, it was all totally worth it - at least for me. I don't have any great words to share at this point, but my brain isn't functioning much today anyway due to lack of sleep.

This was in the E-pistle this week at St. Paul's Church Pawtucket, they also put it in the bulletin for Christmas. I thought it was kind of cool.

This is, as I have learned, the Solemn Proclamation of Christmas. Both Christ Church Lincoln, and St. Paul's Pawtucket began there late service with this.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, unknown ages from the time when God created the heavens and the earth and then formed man and woman in his own image.

Several thousand years after the flood, when God made the rainbow shine forth as a sign of the covenant.

Twenty-one centuries from the time of Abraham and Sarah; thirteen centuries after Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt.

Eleven hundred years from the time of Ruth and the Judges; one thousand years from the anointing of David as king; in the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel.

In the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad; the seven hundred and fifty-second year from the foundation of the city of Rome.

The forty-second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus; the whole world being at peace, Jesus Christ, eternal God and Son of the eternal Father, desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming, being conceived by the Holy Spirit, and nine months having passed since his conception, was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary.

Now in our own time this marks the Nativity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, after the manner of all flesh.

Anyway, Merry Christmas to all. May it be a truly blessed 12 days.

Hodie Christus natus est.

A gentle knock

Being the church geek that I am, I go to church all the time. Through years of worship in various places, I've heard more sermons then I can remember. But, there are some that just stick with me.

Every year on the first Sunday of Advent, Mount St. Charles Academy holds a service of Advent Lessons and Carols (a fine Anglican tradition that the former Chaplin borrowed from him Anglican brothers during his time in England). Every service begins with a message from the principal. In affect it is a mini Sermon. The first service of Lessons and Carols I was apart of was 2003, my freshman year. Mr. Richer had just become the first lay person to be principal of Mount. His opening was just one of those sermons I will never forget. Below I have paraphrased Mr. Richer's words.

Advent is a time a preparation. A time to prepare our hearts for the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ. Every Advent seasons as I prepare myself, I am reminded of a painting. It is of Jesus standing outside someones door holding a light. He is knocking at the door. At a quick glance there doesn't seem to be anything special about this painting. But, if you look closely you will notice that there is no handle on the door. In order of the owner of the house to let Christ in he (the owner) must make the intentional effort and open the door. Christ, can't do it for him. That is what we are called to do this Advent season. We are called to listen for the gentle knocking at our hearts. When it comes we must open our hearts to his light and make room for the coming of the King.

This Advent season I hope that we can all take time to be still and know that God is there. That we can in the silence of our hearts listen for the gentle knocking, and when it comes invite Christ is.

An Advent Reflection

I have always found a special connection with Advent. I'm not really sure just want it is, but I've always been able to identify with this season of joyful preparation. This year I decided to do something a little different then I've done in years past. I'm actually observing Advent. Intellectually I've always known that Advent is a time to prepare ones heart for the birth of Christ, but I've never been able to put that into practice.

I think it is so easy for me to really honor Advent this year, as my life has of late turned into its own season of Advent. For about two months now I've known that UNE was not the school for me. After a couple of weeks I had made the decision to leave. Once I made that choice, everything became a preparation for transferring. Moving stuff home, applying to other schools, filling out paper work, etc. This transition is a joyful one - for me at least. As each task is completed I come a little bit closer to leaving.

Yet, when I first became the semester I did not know I was "lost". It took time before I could realize I was in a place I wasn't supposed to be in. Yesterday morning I had the opportunity to attend a Eucharistic service. The Gospel reading, was one that I could easily identify with.

Matthew 18:12-14

12What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? 13And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. 14So it is not the will of your* Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.


I'm sure at first that sheep did not know he was lost. But, eventually the sheep was found and brought home. Here at UNE I have been "found" and very soon will be brought home.

Advent is a time of preparing ourselves of the coming of Christ. A time to look inward. As we reflect on our spiritual journeys we may find that we have been lost, and didn't even know it. But, as our season continues, as we open our hearts to the birth of Christ we find that we are finally brought home.