Detail of a tapestry of the Life of the Virgin Mary (in red) with the words of the Magnificat, created by a nun in Switzerland c.1450-75, now in the Glasgow Museums. August 15, 2017
“O higher than the cherubim, more glorious than the seraphim, lead their praises, Alleluia!” Many do not realize that these words beginning the second verse of hymn 618 in The Hymnal 1982 refer to Mary, the mother of Jesus. The verse continues, “Thou bearer of the eternal Word, most gracious, magnify the Lord…” This magnificent hymn names all the company of heaven joined in praise to God as we are invited to join the chorus. Mary is the choir director. Jim was the choir director in my home parish when I was in high school. It was he who invited me to consider the possibility of a life lived in Christ at a time when I was searching and not sure about anything related to the entire God conversation. I became willing to consider the possibility because I saw in him an authenticity reflected in pure joy as he led the youth and adult choirs of the parish. He was real. His life was an act of praise to God. Each choir practice was an adventure of praise and thanksgiving as Jim gave voice to our song and we were invited to consider the God-possibility in each of us. Life for me was never the same again. I often say that one of the purposes of liturgy is to create a space in which we can fall in love with God. In Mary’s great hymn of response to God’s invitation that we know as the “Magnificat,” we are drawn into a vision for God’s people that is radical and transformative: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior.” I remember my liturgics professor saying of this Song of Mary that of course she sang it, as there is no renewal without music. As we hear in Mary the echoes of Hannah’s prayer from I Samuel, we learn that the renewed heart’s first responsibility is the worship of God which bears the fruit of a life lived in gratefulness. Then comes a more radical turn as we find that a grateful heart leads to radical living. Mary sings a vision of God that turns everything upside down. Perhaps as she came to realize her own life was being turned topsy-turvy, she was able to align her own voice with a God who scatters the proud, puts down the mighty, exalts the lowly and sends the rich away empty. And we wonder where Jesus got some of his ideas? Just look at Mom. The choir director is telling us that those we marginalize, God glorifies. Think of the 22 million refugees of the world fleeing the violence of their homelands. See the homeless in our cities and beach communities, many of whom are teenagers and a large number are mentally ill. Ponder those who are disabled in any way. Consider those oppressed and ostracized for no other reason than for being who God created them to be. Walk into a prison. We could do no better than each day taking Mary’s lead and joining in the song she leads. Sing that song each day and see what happens. Perhaps by joining her choir we will find our lives renewed and conformed more closely to the One she bore and raised. Here lies a hope that even our generation will call her blessed. Bishop Skip Detail of The Transfiguration of Christ by Lorenzo Lotto, c. 1511, via Wikimedia Common August 6
Note that the event of Jesus’ transfiguration begins with him in prayer. How could it be any other way? The whole experience in Luke’s account is bracketed by Jesus pointing toward the way of the cross and his eventual death. He enters into prayer as he offers himself to a centered conversation with God whereby he might gain clarity about his mission on earth. Jesus’ “departure,” or even better, “exodus,” which he is to accomplish at Jerusalem, signifies his unique role in salvation history. The way of Jesus, the way of giving oneself away as an offering of love and in thanksgiving for the gift of life, is the way for all. The Transfiguration gives us a window through which we are able to catch a glimpse of Jesus’ identity continuing in the fullness of the Law and the Prophets as known through Moses and Elijah. We are also given a view, as the veil is pulled back a bit, of the purpose of all humanity. There are gifted moments in life when we are able to see most clearly, unitive experiences if you will, when we know to the very depths of our being why we are here, for what we were created, and that in our human experience we know ourselves held by a love that knows no bounds. I had such an experience in a systematic theology class when my professor shared with us a particularly sacred and tender moment in his life. While out to dinner with his wife, he got a phone call to return home immediately where a baby sitter had been caring for his young child. They learned that in a horrific accident in the home and through no fault of the baby sitter, their beloved child had died. These words from my professor were indelibly marked on my soul that day when he said, “I have been to the bottom and the bottom is firm.” It is firm because of the One who holds us and just as with Jesus, calls us beloved. It is something of the quality of that awareness that Jesus knew on the holy mount. He was completely and transparently in that moment so drawn by grace into the fullness of his humanity that his divinity could not help but become evident as well. This is why in the end, in Christian understanding, there is really only one sacrament, who is Jesus the Christ. He is the outward and visible sign of the inward and spiritual grace of God. Any other sacramental expression is only so to the degree that it manifests Christ himself and as it draws us to the place where we know our own Christ-likeness. One of my spiritual practices is to look for how a person has been a sacrament in his or her life, a window through which we catch a glimpse of the beauty of God and that to which Jesus points. This often plays out when I am reflecting on a life in preparation to preach at a funeral. A dear friend died recently. When pondering his gift to me, I realized that in his presence and his own broken humanity, I always knew I was loved. In this way he portrayed Christ to me – no question. This is God’s gift to Jesus in his transfiguration. It is God’s gift to us in Christ. It is to be our gift to the world. Bishop Skip "For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.” I Corinthians 12:12
Dear Friends in The Episcopal Church in South Carolina, Please join me in giving thanks to God for the gift of grace given to us through the August 2 ruling of the State Supreme Court that was generally in our favor. I acknowledge the difficult work of the court justices in coming to this decision. Many of you have worked faithfully and diligently in preparation for this day and have remained steadfast as disciples of Jesus through your many sacrifices. For every one of you I give thanks, as well as to many throughout the wider Episcopal Church who have remained in solidarity with us. We will continue to study the decision as we prepare for the journey awaiting us, and we enter it knowing that God’s Spirit is with us and in us as the Body of Christ. I am aware that coming to this day has been painful for many, and some you of lost much along the way. In that same vein, please be aware that this decision is painful in a different way for others. I ask that you be measured in your response without undue celebration in the midst of your own gratefulness. I call upon all of you to be in prayer for all the people of this diocese, including those in congregations who chose to align with the breakaway group. Many conversations will need to occur for which we have not yet had the opportunity, yet our God is a God of reconciliation and hope as shown forth in the living Christ. Healing is our desire, and we renew our commitment to the hard work of reconciliation in whatever form it can come. May we focus on the healing of division and the seeking of common ground for the good of all Episcopalians, but even more importantly, for the sake of the Good News of Jesus. In the hope of the Risen One, Bishop Skip The Rt. Rev. Gladstone B. Adams III Bishop Provisional, South Carolina Most Holy God, whose blessed Son before his passion prayed for his disciples that they might be one, as you and he are one: Grant that your Church, being bound together in love and obedience to you, may be united in one body by the one Spirit, that the world may believe in him whom you have sent, your Son Jesus Christ our Savior; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. Detail of St. James the Apostle by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, c. 1655, via Wikimedia Common Saint James the Apostle
July 25, 2017 I am intrigued by the juxtaposition of the readings from Matthew and Acts for this day. It is in Matthew that we hear of the desire of the mother of James and John – and I am guessing she is speaking her sons’ desire too – that they be given places of honor next to Jesus. It is in Acts we learn that James is martyred at the hands of Roman power exercised through the person of Herod Agrippa. So James did indeed drink of the cup from which Jesus drank, but certainly it was not for what he or his mother was asking. Ambition within a community, even a community gathered around Christ, is not unknown, but it is not Jesus’ way. He models a leadership style of the self-offering of the servant which ushers in true freedom. In the Collect for Peace from the Daily Office we pray, “…to serve you is perfect freedom.” This freedom which comes from being bound to service to another is a paradox. It is not unlike a kite, which when tethered to a string is able to live fully into its “kiteness,” that is, to be truly free to fulfill its purpose to fly and drift with the wind. If one was to cut the string, in a misguided attempt to set it free, it would come crashing to the ground and no longer do what it was created to do. Oddly, human beings often mistake the way of destruction for freedom. Obedience is not a popular concept in today’s world. Yet, when we make baptismal promises, or take vows in ordination or in marriage, we are making promises of obedience not because it restricts our freedom, but because in giving ourselves to these promises we are set free to be and become who God has created us to be. The ordained deacon is called to be the icon of such obedient service, thereby calling all of the baptized to this vision of faithful living. Baptism is, if you will, our expulsion from slavery in Egypt, an old way of life that destroys and diminishes, into the exodus of moving with and toward God. All along we are invited to feed on the manna of Eucharist freely given, indeed to drink the cup Jesus drank in our desert journey leading us home. Part of what we celebrate in the person of James the Apostle is his grounding in service to Christ that moved beyond the desire for power to the deeper place of servant. It set him free to where he could offer even his life in joyful service to God and God’s people. Christ offers this freedom to us all. Bishop Skip Mary Magdalene in a a detail of a 14th-c. painting in the Basilica di San Nicola da Tolentino, Italy, via Wikipedia Saint Mary Magdalene
July 22, 2017 When one reads the scriptural record of this woman of faith, the negative ascriptions given to her over the centuries are quite astonishing, even puzzling. One wonders if there is not some kind of latent sexism at play here. First, there is the common misconception that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. Nothing in the Bible indicates that this was so. The city of Magdala was an important shipbuilding and trade center in its day and history indicates it had an unsavory reputation. Guilt by association does not necessarily apply, however. Then there is the word “maudlin,” which is an alteration of the word “Magdalene,” from the practice of depicting her as a weeping, penitent sinner. Well yes, John’s Gospel does indicate that she wept at Jesus’ tomb when his body was found to be missing, a perfectly appropriate grief reaction to my mind. She also was healed by Jesus of some kind of spiritual and/or physical illness. But the definition of maudlin as “weakly and effusively sentimental” is a completely unfair characterization when it comes to Mary. Her story would indicate quite the opposite. Mary Magdalene travelled with Jesus and supported the mission financially. She went with others to Jesus’ tomb to anoint his body and in John’s account, was the first witness to the resurrection. The Eastern Church regards her as the equal of an apostle. Even more stunningly, it was Mary Magdalene who was present at the crucifixion after all of the other disciples had abandoned Jesus to save their own hide. I understand why the disciples ran. My point is that Mary of Magdala did not run, but chose to stay at the risk of her life. Her devotion to Jesus is unquestionable. After the resurrection the disciples went back home, but Mary “…wept and remained standing outside the tomb.” What are we afraid of here – intimacy? Is it that the man Jesus seems to have had a close, loving relationship with an empowered woman as a disciple and it makes us nervous? Whatever the source of anxiety may be in the historical record surrounding her, it is important that we see in Mary Magdalene a person of strength who never stops her seeking of the Christ in his life or in his death. Gregory the Great said that “She longed for him whom she thought had been taken away. And so it happened that the woman who stayed behind to seek Christ was the only one to see him.” We tend to find what we are looking for, positively and negatively. Mary was looking for Jesus and in her seeking heard her name called by the Savior of the world. Who was seeking whom? It is in our seeking that we are found. Bishop Skip July 4, 2017
The observance of this day on the Church’s calendar was born out of differences of perspective. Although lessons and prayers were appointed for a national observance in the Proposed Prayer Book of 1786, they were deleted by the General Convention of 1789 in deference to the majority of the clergy who had remained loyal to the British crown. Not until the revision of the Book of Common Prayer in 1928 was it restored. For me a tension continues. I must confess that any time the life of prayer, worship and Scripture are aligned too closely with national desire I get nervous. I find that renditions of the flag of the United States printed on a page leaf in the front of a Bible especially troublesome. Such approaches too often cross the line into nationalism, an idolatry that blurs the distinction of the sovereignty of God and national purpose as if one is equal to the other. Deuteronomy 10:20 appointed for today says, “…him alone shall you worship.” Failure to be clear about this is pointed to through the work of The Southern Poverty Law Center. The alarming proliferation of extremist nationalist groups in the United States quoting the Bible and spewing racist, misogynist and intolerant hatred is well documented. Please do not misunderstand. I am a patriot and am grateful that I am a citizen of the United States. As I travel I thank service men and women for their offering when I see them in airports. At the same time, I am very clear that the United States enjoys no favored position with God compared to any other country, people or tribe. The Collect for the Day asks of God that we “may have grace to maintain our liberties in righteousness and peace.” There is a proper place for grateful hearts for the sacrifices made to secure our land from tyranny and oppression. When at our best, we have been an example of liberty to many over the last 241 years. Yet we also need to hear faithful and prophetic critique when what we do as a nation is in conflict with the Gospel, and be willing to confess our sin when we are the source of oppression. As disciples of Christ and yet citizens of a nation, what does loving our enemies (Matthew 5:44) and loving the stranger in our midst (Deuteronomy 10:19) look like in national policy? These are not small questions. I was present for a poignant moment a few years ago when the United States was pondering going to war with Iraq. A bishop from another part of the Anglican Communion said, “I hope for the day that the words ‘God bless America’ are a prayer rather than a war cry.” May we be blessed, not for the gain of special status, but to be a blessing for the world. Bishop Skip Detail of El Greco's St. Peter and St. Paul, painted c. 1590-1600, via Wikipedi Saint Peter and Saint Paul, Apostles
June 29, 2017 Why is it that these two giants of the Christian faith are bundled on one feast day? Yes, they are remembered on other days in the Church’s calendar; Paul for his conversion and Peter for his confession. But, why this day? Apparently it is to remind us that they both died as martyrs in Rome. According to tradition, their deaths occurred in the same year, 64, during the persecution under Nero. They were united in death, united in faith, united in their common love of Jesus the Christ, united in their sense of mission to feed God’s sheep. We also know, however, that in life they had occasion for great differences of theological opinion. In the letter of Paul to the Galatians in 2:11 we have these words, “But when Cephas (Aramaic for Peter) came to Antioch I (Paul) opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned.” This controversy was about the mission to the Gentiles and matters of the circumcised and uncircumcised. Adherence to the Law and differences in the interpretation of Scripture and its application played a huge part. This was no small matter and Paul was resolute. Unless we miss the significance, this matter threatened to tear apart the fledgling Church. What won the day was Peter’s and Paul’s common faith in Christ. Their unity in the person of Jesus and his teaching transcending ideology and pointing to the great room of inclusion enabled them to eventually move to a new place. As a child growing up in the Episcopal Church, I was aware of a very tense time in my home parish when two lay leaders of the congregation were at enmity with one another. The sharing of the “peace of Christ” in the liturgy was brand new and for many a bit controversial. One Sunday one of these persons, at the peace, left his pew and walked around the rather large worship space. It became apparent he was going straight to the person with whom he had been having the great argument. Everyone was holding a collective breath. The most astonishing thing then occurred. One held out his hand to the other in what seemed like slow motion, eyes met, the hand was gently pushed aside and an embrace was offered and received. In an instant a relationship was restored, healing happened and worship continued. In a follow-up parish newsletter article it was expressed by these two men that if they were going to claim Christ as Lord they needed to act like it. So they did, right before our eyes. This was a formative moment for me as a young Christian as well as a transforming moment for that parish. Memory tells me that the sharing of the peace of Christ was never the same again. The subsequent reconciliation of Peter and Paul, on a much larger stage, was formative for the first century Church. My hope is that it continues to inform and transform who we are as the people of God today. Bishop Skip Nativity of St. John the Baptist by Pontormo, c. 1526, via Wikimedia Commons The Nativity of St. John the Baptist
June 24 So how many shopping days are there until Christmas? Whatever the specific number of days, John’s birth preceded that of Jesus’ by six months. According to Luke, Elizabeth became pregnant six months before the Angel Gabriel appeared to Mary. It is all so poetically portrayed. This birth figures so prominently in the New Testament witness that the Benedictus, a canticle of praise uttered by John’s father Zechariah after his son’s birth, appears in our worship through the Daily Office. It helps root us in our common history as Jews and Christians. Scripture clearly indicates that John’s birth was for a purpose. Even his naming caused a minor controversy in the family, indicating that something new was occurring when the name chosen for him dispensed with convention. Elizabeth won that argument as Zechariah came around and with newly found freedom proclaimed the great day of God that was dawning in the blessing of all humanity. John the Baptist was a forerunner so that our feet would be guided into the way of peace. Have you ever met someone who appeared to be living a life for which they were born? I am thinking of a seminary professor, The Very Reverend Richard Reid, who taught New Testament at Virginia Seminary. I took a class in the Gospel of John from him that was not merely an academic study, which it was, but also a spiritual adventure. It was a significant part of my ongoing and daily conversion to the deeper truths of God in Christ. I recall thinking to myself at one point that this man was born to teach this class. Not to be overly dramatic, but the universe seemed to be aligned and all would be well as I sat right where I was supposed to be at that moment. There was a quality of presence that went much beyond the immediate configuration of teacher and students in a seminary classroom. Something significant of the Spirit was occurring and it was a privilege and gift to be a part of it. This is something of the quality of John’s ministry as precursor and preparer of the way. God acts in history as we see the drama unfold in Luke’s Gospel. God acts in the history of a classroom. God acts in our history too as our call is really no different than that of John’s. I do not mean to say that everything we do is pre-planned or pre-ordained. What I do mean to say is that each moment of life is filled with the fullness of God’s Spirit working in us, through us and among us – the sacrament of the moment if you will. The focus is on being and becoming a people of wholeness and harmony. This can be costly work since we know John ended up in prison and was eventually executed for proclaiming God’s truth so clearly that he challenged and threatened the reins of power held by Herod Antipas. So have many others, throughout history, found their ministry costly. Our hope is not in a program, good intentions, trying harder, or even being more spiritual. Our hope is in the One to whom John the Baptist points. Bishop Skip Epiphany Church, Summerville
Trinity Sunday, 2017 Imagine we are playing the game “Jeopardy.” The column is “Church Trivia” for $500. The answer is: “Trinity Sunday.” The question is: “What is the only day of the church year named for a doctrine rather than for a person or an event?” Today we focus on the Trinity, the grand mystery of a way in which we talk about God’s nature as three persons yet still one in substance. We began our worship with the words, “Blessed be God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,” reminding us of the manner in which we were baptized. Everyone here today receiving the laying on of hands and probably most, if not all of us, whether Methodist, Baptist, Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Pentecostal or Episcopalian, were baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, marking our call to go into all the world and make disciples of all nations, secure in the promise that God is with us to the end of the age. There is a playful story about St. Augustine who wrestled for years with trying to understand God as three yet one. Walking on a beach on the Mediterranean one day, he noticed a boy digging a hole. Coming up to the boy Augustine asked what he was doing. The boy said he was trying to get the sea into the hole. Augustine said in response that was impossible to which the boy replied, “Well, you’ll never explain the Trinity either.” So you will be relieved to know that I am not going to attempt to explain the Trinity today, but I do want us to have an experience of the Trinity, so allow me to tell you of an account of the creation written by Rabbi Marc Gellman from his book, Does God Have a Big Toe. The story as he tells it goes this way: “Before there was anything there was God, a few angels, and a huge swirling gob of rocks and water with no place to go. The angels asked God, ‘Why don’t you clean up this mess?’” Gellman then colorfully retells every stage of the creation process. After each step an impatient angel asks, “Is the world finished now?” and God eloquently replies, “Nope.” Finally God creates a man and a woman and asks them to “finish up the world for me…really, it is almost done.” They object, pleading, “We are too little and only you O God know the plans.” But God reassures them, “If you keep trying to finish the world, I will be your partner.” Then God describes the partnership this way: “A partner is someone you work with on a big thing that neither of you can do alone. If you have a partner, it means that you can never give up because your partner is depending on you. On the days you think I am not doing enough and on the days I think you are not doing enough, even on those days we are still partners and we must not stop trying to finish the world. That’s the deal.” This time, when the angels asked if the world was finished, God answered, “I don’t know. Go ask my partners.” That’s what all of us were baptized into and what all of us, received or reaffirming, are reminded of again today. We have been drawn into a partnership to finish the world with God and to live on this earth in a manner that reflects that relationship. When we speak of God as three, we recognize that the very nature of God is partnership, a community. And note that Augustine did say, most helpfully I think, that any time you see love you see the Trinity. This community we call the Trinity is in a perpetual conversation of love so that when we pray, what we are doing is joining a conversation of love that has been and is going on within God throughout all eternity. In this way the creation itself can be understood as a manifestation of the love found within the Trinity as the world is spoken into existence by the Creator. Jesus of Nazareth, the Son, joins history as one who continues the conversation on earth and invites us to join in. The Spirit is the conversation planted deep within every human being longing to gain expression in holiness and always leading us back to the eternal conversation of union with God and one another. In this way the Trinity not only is the locus of a conversation occurring beyond us, the Trinity becomes a story, even our stories, in the context of our own life. Here’s what I mean. I once received a phone call from an intensive care unit nurse on behalf of an out-of-town family who was looking for an Episcopal priest. The family had been on vacation when the 53-year-old father had a heart attack. He was on life support and I walked onto the unit to find a family in deep anguish as I gazed upon the tears and pain of their eyes. I had been thrust into a time of chaos that at the same time I knew was holy and intimate. After a time of being drawn into the story of how they got to this place and mostly just listening, the woman asked that I give her husband last rites. Looking at her distraught face and the faces of her three sons, I opened the Book of Common Prayer and prayed, “Depart, O Christian soul out of this world; in the name of God the Father Almighty who created you; in the name of Jesus Christ who redeemed you; in the name of the Holy Spirit who sanctifies you.” Before arriving at the hospital that family and I had no knowledge of each other. A simple request to a nurse and her kind phone call led to being bound at the deepest level in the Trinitarian God as we stood before the great mystery of death – created, restored and made holy. The Trinity is community. The Trinity is story. The Trinity is a great partnership of love. At the Trinity’s table is a seat reserved for us all. And it is from that table we are sent to all the nations. Partners. Bishop Skip St. Barnabas Healing the Sick by Paolo Veronese, c. 1566, via Wikimedia Commons We are told in the Acts of the Apostles, so aptly named, that Barnabas “was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.” I am not sure there is any greater thing that could be said of someone. If such a description were to be found on my tombstone I would be pleased.
The same chapter reveals that it was Barnabas who went to Tarsus to look for Saul and upon finding him, brought him to Antioch to meet with the nascent church and to teach. This occurred after what must have been an uneasy introduction by Barnabas of Saul to the apostles in Jerusalem who were reluctant to meet with the former persecutor of Jesus’ followers. But Barnabas prevailed as he told of Saul’s conversion on the road to Damascus and how he became one, known now as Paul, to proclaim the good news. We learn of him in another part of the Acts of the Apostles that he “sold a field he owned, brought the money, and turned it over to the apostles.” Barnabas evidently also had a significant role in sending relief to people suffering from famine in the days of Claudius. The descriptions of Barnabas’ stewardship of human relationships and finances seem to indicate that he was a bold risk-taker for the sake of the Gospel. My life has been graced by many beautiful and deeply faithful people over the years who exhibited profound acts of stewardship in Christ’s name, not unlike that of Barnabas. One day a member of one of my former parishes asked to see me. He said that he was selling his home in the neighborhood down the street from the parish and moving to another several streets over. He had bought the second home while the first was yet to be sold. He then said that while saying Morning Prayer the week before, he was reading about the behavior of people in the book of Acts and particularly the story of Barnabas selling the field. Praying through that piece of scripture, he came to realize that if he could afford another home without selling the first, he must not need that income. He believed the Spirit was calling him to give to the church whatever he realized from the sale of the first home. I was stunned. But there is more. This parish had three members who had fallen on hard times and were finding it very difficult to make ends meet month to month. He wanted to help there too. We worked out a plan where the rent would be paid for each of those families for the next year as they got back on their feet. He would remain anonymous, but I got to be the messenger. You can believe I was looking forward to those visits. Like Barnabas, this gentle steward of God’s grace as I got to know him better over the years, was acting out of a deeply rooted faith that was grounded in Jesus’ death and resurrection. He believed that the only appropriate way to respond to the gift of God’s embrace of him and the creation was with thanksgiving. He too was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith. Bishop Skip |
Bishop Skip AdamsThe Right Reverend Gladstone B. Adams III was elected and invested as our Bishop on September 10, 2016. Read more about him here. Archives
December 2019
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