| Bishop’s Address James A. Kelsey Episcopal Diocese of Northern Michigan October 14, 2006 Terrace Bay Inn, Escanaba, Michigan Grace to you, and Peace, my sisters and brothers, in the Name of the One who gives us life and who still awakens us to all of the promise and hope and joy of creation. Desmond Tutu, the former Archbishop of Cape Town in South Africa, the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984, and a member of the Third Order of the Society of St Francis, wrote a book in 2004 which captivates me, by its title alone: “God Has a Dream”. Have any of you read it? Listen to his words: “I have a dream,” God says. “Please help me to realize it.” And the thing about it is this: It’s bigger than me. It’s bigger than you. It’s bigger than us. Bigger than the any of our congregations. Bigger than our diocese. Bigger than the U.P. Bigger than the Episcopal Church church-wide. Bigger than the United States of America. Far bigger than the Anglican Communion world-wide. It’s bigger than our imaginations, and our own self-interests. Far bigger than our own dreams or goals or expectations for ourselves and for one another. I don’t know about you, but I know that I am one who needs to be drawn out of my own preoccupations and myopic vision. Day to day, I get caught up in my own personal agenda and at times (because of my job) our shared institutionalized agenda of budget meetings and personnel matters and group dynamics; what have you... And because I am distracted by the many things, I lose sight of the One Thing, the Dream - of God’s Dream for us and for all of Creation. I forget, and I start to think that life is all about me, and I lose my focus on what matters most to me - which really isn’t so much about me, but us and all of Creation. It is what I think Desmond Tutu is calling “God Dream”. God’s Way of Love in a world in which violence erupts on a daily basis and people and politics and public policy seem shaped more by fear and self-centered arrogance than by a vision of the connectedness which God has made as basic to creation as is the one blood which courses through the veins of all people everywhere... And in the midst and in the face of it all - is our life together as the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Michigan. You know, this diocese is really something. I’m not sure what it is - but I know it’s really something. And I wonder: Is it diminutive? Or is it mighty? Is it one of the smallest, one of the poorest, one of the least viable dioceses (institutionally speaking) in the Anglican Communion? Are we living beyond our means? Do we have delusions of grandeur about ourselves, when we try to convince ourselves that we are the cutting edge of the Church? Are we beginning (or continuing) to shut down our engines? - whereby in 1977, there were twenty compensated clergy in the diocese, \and when Mary and I came to the diocese in 1989, there were twelve and as of January 1st, 2007 there will be eight. And what of the average attendance in our congregations on a Sunday morning? And what of the average age and the cultural make-up of our congregations? What are we to make of these circumstances in which we find ourselves? Are we a diocese in decline? Or are we one of the most innovative and energetic and dynamic dioceses in the Anglican Communion? Do they look to us from near and far for a pathway to the future shape of ministry? Have we discovered something vital about the heart of the life and mission of the Church? ...so that, out of our poverty has come a new wealth of experience and faithfulness? In other words, I wonder almost every day: do we, as a diocese suffer from delusions of grandeur, or delusions of meagerness? Will the real Diocese of Northern Michigan please stand up? Go ahead. Stand up. And look around this room. And consider the rest of the members of the congregations we represent. And let’s be honest about the fact that we are, in one way, the best of what the Church has to offer, \and we are, in another way, ... just us. We are both meager and mighty - and in both cases, it’s even worse (and better) than we think. We are fragile and we are unbreakable and resilient. It’s all true. And where do we find ourselves today, as we pause again this morning as we do each year at this time, to reflect upon our life and mission together in this time and place? And, more importantly, what does it all have to do with God’s Dream for us and for the rest of Creation? (You can sit down now...) Over this past year, some magnificent things have happened in our midst
and in the Church of which we are a part: This list, of course, could continue, and I apologize if I have left out the one which most inflames your passion. As you attend the ministry forums today and tomorrow, I know you will be inspired by the initiatives I have just mentioned, and others that I failed to include. The point is that so many amazing and powerful things are happening. There is much to celebrate about our life and work together. And this is why I am so confident that we also have the strength and the wherewithal to address the challenges which do lie ahead for us. Ah, yes. Now we come to our discussion of the budget, don’t we! And I will admit to you that there have been some difficult days over the past few months - as we have tried to be responsible in responding to the realities before us. In truth, there has not been a Diocesan Convention or a meeting of Diocesan Council for several years now during which we have not discussed in depth the financial challenges given for us to embrace. Beginning with our extensive Evaluation 2000 six years ago, we have analyzed and charted and forecast and developed strategy on an annual basis to try to solve our fiscal woes. This year, at last (some would say), we have come to acknowledge, and we are acting upon the need to do more to attract new members to our congregations, to further develop our ministries of stewardship, to decrease our dependence upon our endowments, which we have drawn upon far too heavily in recent years and to adjust our budget to live more responsibly within our means. “To cut the dress to fit our cloth”, as Earl Hoover was fond of saying... The specifics will be spelled out in the budget forum and again in plenary
this morning. There are implications for all of us, which include: Now, let’s be honest about this. Changes such as those we are proposing are not easy. If we forget ourselves, we might become anxious or critical about one another’s choices or otherwise resentful that our options are growing more limited as we seek to get more disciplined about tightening our collective belt. The point I want to make is that I really do believe that despite our institutional vulnerability right now at the heart, we still are an amazingly strong and resilient and committed and resourceful community. We are already accustomed to the embrace of Lady Poverty (as St Francis of Assisi would say). We already understand how good things happen when we realize that we cannot purchase ministry as a commodity and that God has already (& still does) grace us with all we need for the work we’ve been given to share. It’s a matter of letting go of the familiar, and discovering new gifts which we haven’t been able to imagine as long as we’ve been trapped within the institutional box we have known. And this is as true about the organizational box we have been calling “mutual ministry” as it was about the old one we have come to call, “clericalism”. It’s a matter of letting go of the familiar and being opened to the new life - new surprise - new birth which God does have in store for us. I’m trying not to be Pollyannaish about this. I am trying to be faithful about it. One of my favorite Collects in the Book of Common Prayer is the one
we used again a couple of weeks ago, when we were assigned Proper 20: This is something I have found to be true without exception: that when we, any of us, focus on things in our lives that are passing away, we get scared, we get anxious, we get depressed, we lose hope; and when we focus on things that are being birthed and are coming newly into creation, we get excited, we get imaginative, we get optimistic, we feel drawn closer to one another, we feel as if we have meaning and purpose in this life, and we have joy. I have seen this happen in congregations and communities which have had devastating fires or some other conflagration and then had to rebuild something new from scratch. I have seen it happen in congregations after certain key people have died or some beloved church leaders have left and at first, it seemed as if there was nothing but decline and disaster ahead, but lo and behold, something new and exciting began to happen that would not have been possible before - when everything had seemed to be going as well as it possibly could. I have seen this miracle of new life, rebirth, happen in congregations which have formed Covenant Groups and Ministry Support Teams. I have seen it in any number of settings and circumstances. And my point is this: Losing the security of the familiar always first feels like disaster and it always finally makes possible something new and more exciting than anything previously imagined or hoped for. So, when I’m saying that I am trying to be faithful in the face of all of the adjustments we are needing to make in our institutional and organizational infrastructure in this diocese right now, I really mean it. I really mean to say that our best days do lie ahead. And that what is asked of us is that we give ourselves to it. That we rededicate ourselves to the Dream and to the Journey. There’s a wonderful little saying by Israel Baal Shem (who in
the 18th Century founded the Jewish Hasidic movement). If you will excuse
the impolite anachronism of the exclusive language, it goes like this: “Oh ye of little faith.” That’s what Jesus had to say about it. And, you see, it’s not about being Pollyannaish or not. It’s about keeping our focus upon God’s Dream. And the wonders and miracles. My friends, you know, we are given change as an ingredient in life. We can be frightened and anxious and resistant to it or we can embrace it as a tool to transform us. In the case of our fiscal woes, I wonder, can we imagine it this way? ...that these are not simply budget cutbacks we are facing; these are transformational adjustments which are destined to generate new levels of energy which we can use to make our contribution, to do our part to live into God’s Dream. Can we imagine, and affirm the fact that our vocation as the Diocese of Northern Michigan may not be to develop institutional prowess, but rather simply (and most powerfully) to be a humble community of people just trying to be faithful, and trying to carry the Life-Giving Word which is transforming the world? Dorothy Day said it powerfully (and dare we be so bold?) when she wrote: Do you see? ...that the Dream, God’s Dream, is something which reaches beyond us; beyond the horizon of our own perspective, beyond the outer limits of our sight, beyond what we can imagine possible as resulting from so small and meager a community as is ours. Listen again to Desmond Tutu’s words, I ask you. Listen with me,
and let us see how we might discover again something about our vocation: |
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