New Year's Day 2016/Holy Name

I did something I don’t think I have ever done in my entire life: after a very fine supper out with friends and a nice drive around town to look at fireworks, I went home…and went to bed fairly early on New Year’s Eve. And… I woke up early this morning. I woke up to a beautiful New Year’s morning! It was an amazing experience—waking up early on New Year’s Day. With no alcohol and definitely no hang-over, I greeted 2016 with a clear mind—an open mind. This is the real way to begin the year on a very positive note.

I don’t now why I have never done this before. I don’t know why I’ve never heard anyone share this little bit of simple wonderfulness before. I have always been at a loss at how to begin the New Year in a proper way. I have hosted parties. I have went out on the town.

And here I am, at 46, just starting to figure it out. Two years vegan. Not a drop of alcohol for eight months (eight months today). I have never felt this healthy and this clear-headed before in my life.

I have no idea what 2016 is going to hold for me, but I can say I am greeting the right way for me.

Of course, today is also the feast of the Holy Name, which is also has been

one of my favorite feasts.

I found two wonderful little prayers from the New Zealand Prayer Book that really sum up the beauty of this day:

God of time and eternity, as we enter this new year day by day open us to your new age.

Eternal God, to whom a thousand years are no more than a moment; renew us in your Holy Spirit so that we may serve with courage while we have life and breath; through the grace of Jesus your Son.

St. Stephen (observed)

December 27, 2015

+ I know. You’re wondering, why are we commemorating St. Stephen today? His feast day was yesterday.  It’s the First Sunday after Christmas. Where’s our Gospel reading from the first chapter of John?

We come to church and everything’s red. What’s going on, Fr. Jamie? Get it together! Are you insane?  

Well, trust me. There’s a method to all this madness. As there always is.

First of all, we are celebrating St. Stephen for the very important reason that he is our patron saint of course. So, we transferred his feast from yesterday so we could all enjoy St. Stephen. Why wouldn’t we? We very proudly bear his name. I’ll get into all of that in a moment.

But, there’s another important reason we’re commemorating him today. We have transferred his feast from yesterday because I really do think it’s important to remind ourselves how important St. Stephen is to all of us.

And…

I would like to, at this time, officially open our 60^th year. I christen it, shall we say?  Today, do we officially begin our 60^th year as a congregation. This is something very important to commemorate. 60 years of amazing ministry in the Diocese of North Dakota.

Bishop Emery and those first founders of church were a smart bunch. They were a prophetic bunch. Naming our church after St. Stephen was a smart thing. Of course, the reason they came to this name was because St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Casselton, ND had just closed in 1956. And we inherited much of their furnishings.

But St. Stephen was a great saint for us to have as our patron.  In the Orthodox and Roman traditions of the Church, the patron saint of a church is viewed as more than just a namesake. They are seen as special guardians of that congregation.   And so, it is especially wonderful to celebrate a saint like St. Stephen, who is our guardian and who is, no doubt, present among us this morning, with that whole communion of saints, who is always present with us at worship.

St. Stephen, of course, was the proto-martyr of the Church “Proto” is the important word here. Proto means, essentially, first. He was the first martyr of the Church. He was the first one to die for his open proclamation of  Christ.

He also is considered a proto deacon in the church.  In this year in which we are raising up two prospective deacons in our congregation, this is especially meaningful as well.  He is a special patron saint of deacons—and of all people who share a ministry of servitude to others.

What better saint can we claim as our patron that St. Stephen?  He was the first to do many things.  Just like we, as a congregation, have been the first in doing many things.  St. Stephen, in his stance on a few issues, was not popular always obviously.

There is a reason they dragged him out and stoned him. Well, neither are our opinions and our stances on some issues. (I’m not going to go into detail on those today) And making the stance we have in the past and the reaction we have received from others, let me tell you, I can feel for St. Stephen.  So, again, talk about a perfect saint for us.

It’s appropriate that this congregation that has been the first to do many things, is named after St. Stephen. When we look back at our 60 year history, just think for a moment about all those people who came through the doors of this church. Think about how many of those people who have been hurt by the Church.  Think about how many were frustrated with the Church.  And more often than not, their relationship with God has suffered for it.   But they came here searching. Searching for true religion. Searching for a welcoming and open community.

So what this true religion?   I see the Episcopal Church, and specifically St. Stephen’s,  as making a real solid effort at true religion.  For me, St. Stephen’s personifies in many ways, what true religion is.  The Church should be like a dinner to which everyone is invited.   And St. Stephen’s has always been the place that knows this one blunt fact: The only thing there is no room for in true religion is for those who cannot love each other.  St. Stephen’s is a place very much like a family.  We don’t always choose the people God has brought into our lives, but we always—ALWAYS—have to love them.

So what is true religion?  True religion begins and ends with love.  We must love one another as God loves us.  True religion begins with the realization that, first and foremost, God loves each and every one of us.   When we can look at that person who drives us crazy and see in that person, someone God loves wholly and completely, then our relationship with that person changes.  We too are compelled to love that person as well.   Love is the beginning and end of true religion.  

Certainly, St. Stephen’s has always been a place of love.   Love has never been a stranger here. God’s love has been offered not only on this altar, but among the pews and in the undercroft and in the entryway and in the parking lot.   And most importantly in the lives of our members out in the larger world.  That Love that God has commanded us to share has went out from here into all the world.  

We who are gathered here have been touched in one way or the other by the love that has emanated from this place and these people.  We are the fortunate ones—the ones who have been transformed and changed by this love.  We are the lucky ones who have—through our experiences at St. Stephen’s—been able to get a glimpse of true religion.

But our job now is not to cherish it and hold it close to our hearts. Our job now is to turn around and to share this love with others. Our job is take this love and reflect it for everyone to see.

So, in a very real sense, we, at St. Stephen’s, are doing what that first St. Stephen did.  We have set the standard. We have embodied who and what St. Stephen the Martyr stood for. Even when it was not popular. Even when people felt it wasn’t time. Even when people said, “wait. There’s no rush. Why do this now?”

We have stood up again and again for what we have felt is our mission to accept all people in love. We have journeyed out at times into uncharted territory. And most importantly, we have, by our love, by our compassion, by our acceptance of all, been a reflection of what the Church—capital C—is truly capable of.

This is how we begin our 60^th year. We begin it by doing what we have always done. We do it as St. Stephen’s did it—with our eyes firmly set on Christ, with our lips singing and praying, with our head held high, with love in heart, even if stones and rocks are falling around us.

We do so affirmed in our many ministries. We do so, hopefully, thankful for the ordained ministries of two new deacons to serve here, and for the ministry of a new priest to serve the larger Church. We do so thankful for the ministry of Bishop Gallagher. We do so thankful or our continued place in the Episcopal Diocese of North Dakota. We do thankful for our prophetic past. And we do so thankful for an amazing future.

It is an amazing time to be at St. Stephen’s. Those founders of our church would only be amazed at what this congregation they envisioned in 1956 would one day be.

As we begin this 60^th year, let us do with gratitude to God and one another in our hearts. Let us shake off the negativity and that nagging doubts that have plagued us over these months. And let us, like St. Stephen, be strong and firm in our faith in God and our convictions of serving others in love. And may our God—that source of all love, that author and giver of all good things—continue to bless us with love and goodness. May we continue to flourish and grow.  And may we continue to venture bravely forward in  all that we continue to do here among us and throughout the world.  Amen.

Christmas Day

December 25, 2015

  

+ I’m a church geek. You know how you know I’m a church geek? Because one of my greatest pleasures in life is doing the Christmas morning Mass.  Yes, I know. Christmas Eve is beautiful. But Christmas morning.  I don’t know. It’s just just…something special. I think that is what Christmas Day is all about. This sense of it all being just…a bit more holy and complete.

The great Trappist monk and poet, Thomas Merton, once wrote this poem. I love it:

Make ready

for the Christ

whose smile,

like lightning

sets free

the Song

of everlasting

glory

that now sleeps

in your paper

flesh like

Dynamite.

For me, that captures perfectly this strange feeling I have experiencing this morning how I LOVE a Christmas Day mass And now—this morning— Christmas is here.  This morning, we celebrate the Light.  And we celebrate the Word.

We celebrate the Light that has come to us in our collective and personal darkness.  We celebrate the Light that has come to us in our despair and our fear, in our sadness and in our frustration. And we celebrate this Word that has been spoken to us—this Word of hope.  This Word that God is among us. We celebrate this

“Christ

whose smile,

like lightning

sets free

the Song

of everlasting

glory

When we think long and hard about this day, when we ponder it and let it take hold in our lives, what we realized happened on that day when Jesus was born was not just some mythical story.   It was not just the birth of a child under dire circumstances, in some distant, exotic land.  

What happened on that day was a joining together—a joining of us and God.  God met us half-way.  God came to us in our darkness, in our blindness, in our fear—and cast a light that destroyed that darkness, that blindness, that fear.

God didn’t have to do what God did. God didn’t have to descend among us and be one of us.  But by doing so, God showed us a remarkable intimacy.

Last night at Mass I shared a great quote from the great Dominican theologian, Meister Ekhart:

“What good is it  if Mary gave birth to the Son of God [two thousand years ago]? I too must give birth to the Son of God in my time, here and now. We are all meant to be the mothers of God. God is always needing to be born.”

I love that quote and I think it’s very true.  We need to be the people through whom God is born again and again in this world. We need to bring God into reality in this world again and again.  

Why?  Because God is a God of love.  Because we are loved by God. Because we are accepted by God. Because we are—each of us—important to God.  We are, each of us, broken and imperfect as we may be some times, very important to God. Each of us. And because we are, we must love others.

We must give birth to our God so others can know this amazing love as well.  Knowing this amazing love of God changes everything.  When we realize that God knows us as individuals.  That God loves us and accepts each of us for who we are, we are joyful. We are hopeful of our future with that God. And we want to share this love and this God with others. That is what we are celebrating this morning. Our hope and joy is in a God who comes and accepts us and loves us for who we are and what we are—a God who understands what it means to live this sometimes frightening uncertain life we live.  This is the real reason why we are joyful and hopeful on this beautiful morning.  This is why we are feeling within us a strange sense of longing. This is why we are rushing toward our Savior who has come to visit us in what we once thought was our barrenness.

Let the hope we feel today as God our Savior draws close to us stay with us now and always. Let the joy we feel tonight as God our Friend comes to us in love be the motivating force in how we live our lives throughout this coming year. God is here.  God is in our midst today.  God is so near, our very bodies and souls are rejoicing. And God loves us.

The great Anglican poet Christina Rosetti put it more eloquently:

 Love came down at Christmas,

love, all lovely, love divine;

love was born at Christmas:

star and angels gave the sign.

That is what we are experiencing this day. Love came down.  Love became flesh and blood. Love became human. And in the face of that realization, we are rejoicing today.  We are rejoicing in that love personified.  We are rejoicing in each other.   We are rejoicing in the glorious beauty of this one holy moment in time.

Christmas Eve

December 24, 2015

Isaiah 9.2-7; Titus 2.11-14; Luke 2.1-20

+ I don’t know about you, but it sure feels different tonight. Even those of us who might be scrooges about Christmas, even those people know—there’s something special and beautiful about this evening. You can feel it. It’s all around us.

Christmas.

Yes, it might be dark and cold out there. But even in this coldness, in this darkness, there is Light. We are celebrating the Light tonight—this Light hat that has come to us in our collective and personal darknesses.  We celebrate the Light that has come to us in our despair and our fear, in our sadness and in our frustration—all those things we live with in our day to day lives. And as it does, no doubt most of us are feeling two emotions—the two emotions Christmas is all about—hope and joy.

Hope—in our belief that what has come to us—Christ—God made flesh—is here among us. And Joy—at the realization of that reality. God has come among us.

As we come forward tonight to meet with joy and hope this mystery that we remember and commemorate and make ours this evening, we find ourselves feeling these emotions at our very core. This hope and joy we are experiencing this evening comes up from our very centers.  We will never fully understand how or why God has come to us as this little child in a dark stable in the Middle East, but it has happened and, because it happened, we are a different people. But, although it seems innocent, although it seems so nice and friendly, it is a momentous experience.

The event we celebrate tonight is THE event in which God breaks through to us.  The event we celebrate is the Incarnation—God coming to us in the flesh. For us, Incarnation means, God breaking through to us.  

And whenever God breaks through, it is not some gentle nudge.  It not some kind of flick. It is an event that jars us, provokes us and changes us.

For people sitting in deep darkness, that glaring Light that breaks through into their lives is not the most pleasant thing in the world. It can be blinding and can be painful. And what it exposes is sobering.

That is what God does to us. That is REAL Incarnation. It shakes us up and changes us. That is what we are commemorating tonight.

We are commemorating a “break through” from God—an experience with God that leaves us different people than we were before that encounter. And it can happen again and again in our lives.  What we experience is a Christmas that promises us something tangible. It promises us, and delivers, a real joy.

The joy we feel today, the joy we feel at this Child’s birth, at God breaking through to us and being with us and among us, is a joy that promises us some THING. It is a teaser of what awaits us. It is a glimpse into the life we will all have one day. It is a perfect joy that promises a perfect life.

But just because it is a joyful event, does not mean that it isn’t a serious event. What we celebrate is serious. It is an event that causes us to rise up in a joyful happiness, while, at the same time, driving us to our knees in humility. It is an event that should cause us not just to return home to our brightly wrapped presents, but it should also send us out into the world to make it, in some small way, a reflection of this life-changing joy that has come into our lives.

There is a great quote from the great Dominican theologian, Meister Ekhart:

“What good is if Mary gave birth to the Son of God [two thousand years ago]? I too must give birth to the Son of God in my time, here and now. We are all meant to be the mothers of God. God is always needing to be born.”

We need to be the people through whom God is born again and again in this world. We need to bring God into reality in this world again and again.  Why?  Because God is a God of love.  Because we are loved by that God.  Because we are accepted by that God.  Because we are—each of us—important to God.  We are, each of us, broken and imperfect as we may be some times, very important to God. Each of us. And because we are, we must love others, just as God loves us.  We must give birth to our God so others can know this amazing love as well.

Knowing this amazing love of God changes everything.  When we realize that God knows us as individuals. That God loves us and accepts each of us for who we are, we are joyful. We are hopeful of our future with that God. And we want to share this love and this God with others.

That is what we are celebrating this evening. Our true hope and true joy is not in brightly colored lights and a pile of presents until a decorated tree. Our true hope and joy does not come to us with the “things” that will, a week from now, be a fading memory. Our hope and joy is in a God who comes to us, with a face like our face and flesh like our flesh, who causes us to leap up with joy at this very presence.  Our hope and joy is in that almighty and incredible God who would come to us, not on some celestial cloud with a sword in his hand and armies of angels flying about him.

Our hope and joy is in a God who comes to us in this innocent child, born to a humble teenager in a dusty land.  Our hope and joy is in a God who comes and accepts us and loves us for who we are and what we are—a God who understands what it means to live this sometimes frightening uncertain life we live.

This is the real reason why we are joyful and hopeful on this beautiful night. This is why we are feeling within us a strange sense of longing. This is why we are rushing toward our Savior who has come to visit us in what we once thought was our barrenness.

Let the hope we feel tonight as God our Savior draws close to us stay with us now and always. Let the joy we feel tonight as God our Friend comes to us in love be the motivating force in how we live our lives throughout this coming year.

God is here. God is in our midst tonight.  God is so near, our very bodies and souls are rejoicing. And God loves us.  So, let us greet this Savior tonight with all that we have within us and let us welcome God into the warm shelter of our hearts. Amen.

What we witnessed

What we witnessed

For my godchild,

Ben Flom,

on the occasion of his confirmation

at St. Paul’s-in-the-Pines Episcopal Church

Fayetteville, North Carolina

December 20, 2015

When the waters of life

on that late autumn day

 washed over you,

a flame within you

blazed 

suddenly and even more brightly

than the Paschal flare

above us.

I saw it!

and rejoiced in it!

as we all did

who stood there

amazed

at this moment

of absolute grace,

reflected

in the waters

beneath you.

And as that water

dried, we all

gazed into your eyes

and saw divinity

staring back. You were—

as we all are—

a child of the unstoppable

unrestrained Love

that came to us

in these same waters,

in this same anointing,

in this same candle flame

that made us—

and you—

in turn

to be

unstoppable

unrestrained Love.

 --Jamie Parsley

Advent/Christmas Letter

Advent-Christmas, 2015

My Friends at St. Stephen’s,

Blessed Advent! Well, it has definitely been an exciting year for us at St. Stephen’s. We have witnessed amazing growth. We have seen loved ones pass from our sight. We have bid others farewell as they have moved away. We stood up for the Gospel of Jesus and the Baptismal Covenant as we understand it. We have done what we have been called to do in very real and important ways—mission, worship, prayer and outreach. It is certainly exhilarating to be serving alongside all of you.

As we anxiously await the celebration of Jesus’ birth, I hope you will all know that I do so with true joy in my heart. This joy comes from knowing that we, at St. Stephen’s, are growing and expanding and being a vital and important presence in the community and the larger Church. I think we all have to admit that it is a great time to be at St. Stephen’s.

As we celebrate Christmas, be assured that I pray for each of you individually by name over the course of each week in my daily observance of the Daily Office. Also know that I will be remembering all of you at the altar during celebration of the Mass both on Sunday morning and Wednesday evening.

In return, I ask you to pray for me also. Pray also for the ministry and mission of St. Stephen’s. In your prayers, please ask you that God’s Spirit continues to be present here, and to refresh, renew and sustain us so that we can do the work we have been called to do.

My sincerest blessings to you and to all those you love and cherish during this season of joy, hope and love.

                                                                        PEACE always,

                                                                        Jamie+

Letter to St. Stephen's regarding our acceptance of the offer of DEPO

December 13, 2015

3 Advent/Gaudete

Dear Members and Friends of St. Stephen’s,

This afternoon, the congregation of St. Stephen’s met following our regular service of Holy Eucharist to discuss Bishop Michael Smith’s offer of Delegated Episcopal Pastoral Oversight (DEPO) for St. Stephen’s. The meeting, much like our process of discernment, began and ended with prayer. Following the meeting and, after hearing feedback from our congregation, our Vestry met to vote on Bishop Smith’s offer. The vote was unanimous in favor of Bishop Smith’s offer of DEPO.

With our acceptance of this offer, Bishop Carol Gallagher will share her ministry and Episcopal oversight of our congregation, beginning January 1, 2016.

What does this mean for us as a congregation?

+ This was a vitally important decision on our part. It means that we, as a congregation, will continue to  live out the ministry we feel we have been called to do as a congregation. We see this as an extension of a ministry based on the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Baptismal Covenant of respecting the worth and dignity of all people, as we see it and have discerned it for ourselves.

+ After January 1, Bishop Carol Gallagher will now have direct Episcopal oversight of our congregation. She will visit our congregation on an annual basis.

+ We will now be allowed to recognize and celebrate marriage rites for all people, without distinction.

+ All of our members will be able to pursue their ministries without hindrance.

+ With this vote, we are NOT “breaking away” from the Episcopal Diocese of North Dakota. In fact, we will remain a contributing and active presence in the Diocese of North Dakota. The Diocese will continue in our collective and personal prayers, as we will in the prayer cycle of the Diocese.

+ We will continue to have a personal relationship with Bishop Smith, and we will continue to invite him to share in the life and joys of our congregation.

Your prayers are requested for our congregation of St. Stephen’s as we move forward together. I also ask your prayers for Bishop Carol Gallagher, for Bishop Smith and the Diocese of North Dakota, as well as your continued prayers for the Episcopal Church. I also ask for your continued prayers for me and for the Vestry of St. Stephen’s.

Fr. Jamie Parsley and the Wardens and Vestry of St. Stephen’s