Family Fellowship Week (FFW) turned out to be amazing! I don’t say that out of complete surprise, given that you all are pretty fantastic folks, but I was taken aback by how many of you came throughout the week. Spanning Monday to Friday, we had around 225 people come together and sing, play, learn, laugh, and listen. There were a few moments when I just sat back and thought to myself, “This. This is what community looks like.”
We had people ranging from eight years old to …mature adulthood. We had long-standing members of the church and people who’d never set foot inside. We had serious moments (not too many), faith moments (quite a few), and fun moments (mostly), that all came together to create a REAL moment of, “This is my church, these are my people,” for not just me, but for many of the people who came and spoke to me, afterward.
I’m grateful for this place and its people. We’re starting to groove here, finding our way into a genuine identity as a growing and thriving parish. FFW was one of many highlights I’ve witnessed in the last months. Anytime this church does something, I think to myself, “I hope we have at least twenty folks…that’ll be successful,” but then I’m ALWAYS caught off guard by that number being much, much higher. For instance, the baseball game coming up. Did you know that we have 53 people going to that? Folks, my first Sunday here we had 47 people in church. Amazing.
The reason I tell you this is to encourage you to tell all of your friends, to spread the word about the resurrection at Resurrection. This place provides a sense of belonging that very few churches in my past have created; and no, I’m not just saying that, I MEAN it. The overall sense of acceptance and joy, love and comfort, faith and fun that this place exudes is nearly palpable—I feel it as I witness all of you together.
We’re going to have a BIG EVENT in September and I’d love to welcome new faces and make new friendships that day and every day after. In short, tell your friends and family about what’s happening, here. Invite them to come and join in on the wacky, mysterious, soul-growing and meaningful life here at ECOTR. I’m so proud of this place. And I’m unspeakably humbled and grateful to be here with you. Let’s continue to invite, enfold, and engage those around us, giving them a chance to experience the raw and riveting power of Jesus Christ in our beloved community.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
July 25, 2018
What is the shape of your desire?
I recently listened to a sermon online that caught me off guard; the preacher was addressing Salome’s dancing in front of Herod and the aftermath of John’s beheading. First, Salome was a girl—the Greek is explicit in that—of perhaps twelve or younger. When she dances in front of Herod, it isn’t the sensual dance that comes to mind, but rather a little girl performing for her parents.
The reason I explain that is this: A twelve year old is told that she can have anything she wants and she has no idea how to answer. When we’re young, we have very little idea of what it is that we actually want, what we actually desire. Our goals are simple (and not-so-simple) issues such as food, water, love, and acceptance. Those are our desires, the only things we KNOW we want. Salome exhibits this in her next move. Not knowing what to ask for, she goes to mom and says, “What should I get?” Her real question is, “What am I to desire?”
Human nature, being broken and self-serving sometimes, shows it’s darker side in this moment. When a child asks what to desire from the world, her parent answers…
Violence. Hatred. Power. Revenge.
I’d never thought of that story in exactly those terms, before. How many Salome’s are running up to us everyday and seeking an answer to that very question, “What am I to desire,” or more importantly, “What is the shape of my desire?” I wonder if we have asked ourselves that question lately. I know that, for me, this is a difficult area. I want to be the best version of myself, possible. Yet I want to ‘belong’. I don’t want the world to ridicule me or cast me out, so sometimes I default to the expectations and whimsy of shallow mindsets around me. But I know that is not the shape of my true desire. And that is certainly not what I wish for the generations asking me the same question.
Take a moment to think on that, this week. What is the shape of your desire? Do you desire to love and seek out the lost, lonely, and left out? Or have you found yourself unwillingly or maybe even unwittingly turning a blind eye to the true desires you have yet to seek? The preacher said a line within his sermon that stuck with me, and I’m still wrestling with it; he said, “It either starts today, or it doesn’t start at all.” My mind tells me that, “there’s always tomorrow,” and yet, I have to agree. Tomorrow turns into today faster and faster, the older I get. So perhaps he’s right—perhaps that change must begin to take place now so that we can teach our children how to desire rightly, love justly and do mercy.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
July 11, 2018
It takes all of us.
Eric Hileman and I hung out after this week’s staff meeting for a few hours. In our conversation, we both lauded the amount of people simply “showing up” for church, for church events, and for fellowship. This place has an almost palpable sense of vitality to it—when I walk these hallways, I can feel the energy of this beloved community and I can sense the profound change that has taken place over the last eleven months. It has taken every single one of us to impact this place, to continue to steward it into the next chapter of our story, together.
Then I began thinking about General Convention. Thousands of people have come together in Austin, TX to do similar work to that which we’ve done in the last year. These dedicated folks are discussing possible shifts in language, where we should place our resources for the betterment of ministry, and many other and equally important topics concerning God’s church. The Prayer Book revision did not pass through the House of Bishops, yet the House of Deputies passed it. Now, it will return to a committee to be re-engaged and further discussed. Most are of the mind that the revision will not happen, yet. I’m comfortable with that decision, but some are not. But like I said…
It takes all of us.
The beauty of the Episcopal Church is our ability to remain in conversation, regardless of whether our opinions become canon or not. I love the fact that our church is growing; I love the fact that the National Church is seeing growth, too. In an age where discourse is nearly impossible, we’re showing others that we can disagree with relative harmony and continue on being the people we’re called to be: God’s children. But I want each of you to know that, if you haven’t found your place in ministry, here, please come see me. I want you to feel included, listened to, loved, and appreciated. Because without you, “WE” turns into fewer and fewer folks—and if that happens, less people out in the world are given the opportunity to see Christ’s love shine. The more of us that there are, the less that this world will have the final say. So know that you’re beloved, appreciated, and wanted here. Come see me about opportunities for ministry and work to be done. Come see me about what’s happening next at ECOTR. Or, just come see me and have coffee, and we’ll talk about faith, hope, and love and what we would like to see happen with this, our sacred Church.
Because it takes all of us.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
July 5, 2018
I love the holidays. All of them. With life as busy as it can be sometimes, holidays provide us with an opportunity to gather with loved ones—family AND friends—and retell old stories, make new memories, and eat too much food. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Independence Day, and of course, Easter, are all high-family gathering moments in the calendar. But not for everyone…
Many of us have felt the pain of grief associated with the loss of a loved one. The holidays hit hard during those days, and even leading up to them, they can leave us with a sense of grief that we’d long thought would ebb away with time. I am all too aware of the moments throughout the year in which my father should be with me, my grandfather, my friends…yet they have gone to the heavenly banquet rather than the family barbecue, and I find myself yearning for days’ past.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with remembering the folks we love on these special holidays—and on any other day, really. But I think one of the most difficult experiences in human existence is working through the loss of someone dear. I didn’t do the suggested counseling, nor the optional classes provided for, the grief process following the death of my father.
I wish I had.
As such, I thought it might be beneficial for those of you who have lost someone or who feel the burden of grief to join me in working through some of the grief we have all experienced. C.S. Lewis wrote a book called, “A Grief Observed”, shortly after his wife’s untimely death. In it, he processes the grief he witnessed during those difficult moments. He writes, “Nothing will shake a man—or at any rate a man like me—out of his merely verbal thinking and his merely notional beliefs. He has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only torture will bring out the truth. Only under torture does he discover it himself.” The torture of which he speaks is addressing the grief, head-on, and being honest about how we feel due to its presence.
Some of you may not be ready for this, and that is completely acceptable; I will offer this course again next year. But for those of you who are ready to name your pain and walk through it to obtain some sense of closure—not forgetting, but forgiving and moving forward—I urge you to join me beginning July 29th and ending August 19th. Each Sunday morning class will be 45 minutes long, held in the new conference room on the North side of the building, and will begin at 9am. You can find the books here; if you cannot afford a book, I will pay for it. Please contact me and let me know if you’re interested in this class, as I want to ensure enough seating and materials for all.
I hope you have a blessed day, and I hope you know how beloved you are to this community.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
June 27, 2018
Hello everyone! I sure did miss all of you while I was away, last week. I hope your summer season is going well so far!
I wanted to talk to you about some of the continuing opportunities with our building, and what that might mean for the next few years. If you don’t know how much work has been put into this place over the last few years’ time, you would be astonished at the transformation thus far. Resurrection has seen: A new parking lot (hats off to the Diocese), new Narthex flooring, new bathroom remodel, new parish hall floors and lights, a revitalized baseball field, new flooring throughout the church, new paint in hallways and in the back office area, new office flooring, and a continued effort by Wade, Bill, and Elizabeth to upkeep the grounds. Basically, the church is being renewed on a meta-level!
But we still have some work to do. I think it’s important for us to be good stewards of this place; judging by the amount of time, talent and treasure that you’ve all donated, I know you agree. The last three projects have been costly (floors and two new bathrooms and two new AC units), and I greatly appreciate your willingness to provide for them! I am not asking for additional funds at this time. I simply want to make you aware of possibilities and opportunities that will likely present themselves in the next couple of years.
As many of you know, we’ve had another AC unit breakdown above the Parish Hall. That unit will be replaced in two weeks’ time, so if it’s a little hot in there, now you know why. The simple truth is that, of the eleven units on the building, at least five of them are nearing the thirty-year mark. This means that we’re inevitably going to need to replace them in the future. We have already setup proactive maintenance for these machines in hopes that they’ll give us a bit more time. But I think it’s important that you at least know what might happen, next. Please know that we’re doing everything in our power to take great care of the building (and that began before I arrived and is being continued). We just might have a few more needs in the coming years in order to arrive at a fully healthy and revitalized space.
Thank you for your generosity. Thank you for your hands-on labor. And thank you for the love you show for this place. All we do for the building helps us to attract new families, outside groups for meetings, and the backyard neighborhood for events. In the words of “Field of Dreams”, “If you build it, they will come.” Again, I’m not asking for more right now, I’m just letting you know the status of “where we are”. And it’s a far cry better than where we were. Thanks from a grateful new rector to those of you who have made this place better and beautiful prior to my arrival. I give you my word that I’ll work diligently to keep that progress moving. This is our home, and together we can continue to grow the family inside.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
June 13, 2018
Friends,
It is with deep sadness, yet a grateful heart that Monty Howard died peacefully at 12:30am this morning. The deep sadness comes from the loss of such a bright soul that shined love and humor, strength and faith upon this beloved community for many, many years. The grateful heart thrums the words, “Thanks be to God for your servant Monty, who no longer experiences pain or sorrow, fatigue or lapse in memory.”
Death is inevitable; it is the human condition to be born, to live, and to die. However, it is precisely how that condition is stewarded that matters. Monty lived a life of a servant. He was faithful to June, his eternal summer of love; he was faithful to his God; he was faithful to his church, his community, and to those in need. He was quick to joke, eager to love, and a delight to behold in conversation.
There will be announcements forthcoming concerning his memorial service, but for now, pray for June and the rest of his family (us, included) that he may rest in peace and rise in that heavenly glory.
Rest well, Monty, and let light perpetual shine upon you.
Love to you all,
Fr. Sean+
June 6, 2018
The past week, I had the misfortune of reading an article written by a man who currently attends the Episcopal Church. The headline read, “______ takes it to the Episcopalians.” Normally, I wouldn’t bite. Normally, I’d just click ‘skip’ and continue on with my day; but for some reason or another, I was intrigued by the notion that ______ was ‘taking it’ to me and my friends. So I read.
And I became angry.
In his words, the Episcopal Church was full of pagans and people who had left the teaching of Jesus Christ. He wrote about his journey into the church, his love of liturgy—both of which he is proud-ish. Yet, as I continued to read his experiences, I thought to myself, “Other people are reading this…I hope they don’t think this is everyone’s process and summation of the Episcopal Church.”
I was quickly answered.
After nearly every online article written on the internet, there is a space below dedicated to readers wishing to leave comments. If I thought the article was ugly, the comments made my heart hurt. People were saying terrible things—untrue and unfounded, ugly and off-the-wall—and I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Where the hell did these people hear about the Episcopal Church?” It seems that, despite PB Michael Curry’s fantastic sermon on love—most of the world still doesn’t know who we are.
After reading that article and its accompanying comments, I made a decision: Everywhere I go and every new person I meet will know the truth of the Episcopal Church and of Christianity, at large. I talked to my barber, the pizza hut guy, and a random woman standing in line, and the bug guy at our church. It isn’t that I haven’t been doing this all along, I just went a little stronger than normal. I don’t want people to fill in the blanks when they don’t understand our beloved church; nor do I want them to do the same with Christianity. We’re not pagans, we’re not falling away from Christ, and we certainly aren’t deserving of the nonsense these people were writing. But we are guilty of something, its being guilty of hiding ourselves away.
It is time for us to step into the light, to let the world see us for who we really are, rather than seeing us as just one label among many that has been misconstrued and demonized. I said it last week and I’ll say it again: It’s time for us to reclaim the name of Christ and proclaim His love for the world. We do this for many reasons, but now among them is to educate those around us about love, and about responding with love rather than anger. Talk to a stranger about your church, about Jesus and about love, today. It starts now.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
May 30, 2018
I stood in front of the grill judging the consistency of charred goods this past Sunday, much like many of you. As the summer sun beamed warm rays over my winter skin, I took a deep breath and an equally deep draught of a refreshing beverage, enjoying the company of old friends—and some new ones—standing near me. Then the inevitable, yet not unexpected question of, “Wait a minute…you’re a REAL priest?”, came from one of the new folks I’d just met. Laughingly, one of my dearest friends (who is not the sum of the title “atheist”, but for this story, that’s his designation) chuckled quietly, awaiting the response. “Yes, I am. I am a priest in the Episcopal Church. We love Jesus, coffee, naps, and a beer or two on the weekends.” The new person, who shall be called Jane from heretofore, then made the same comment that many folks in her generation have locked away in their presupposition safe, “But, you’re drinking. And you went to a brewery with us. And you don’t LOOK like a priest.” At this point, our mutual friend starting laughing openly and said, “He’s really a priest. And I’m an atheist. Add that to the list.”
Baffled, Jane began listing her experiences in the church as a youth, citing that she’d never met, and I quote, “A pastor (I thought to correct her, but is she wrong?) being a ‘real’ person.” She went on to lament her experiences in her childhood denomination, noting the many rules and regulations set forth that would keep her from going back to church.
After a while, the conversation changed to something inane and the day went on, but her remarks stuck with me. More and more these days, I’m aware of the deep hurt inflicted by pastors, ministers, and Christians in general, on our young people. It seems as though that some of our counterparts in the Body of Christ explain God much like a boogeyman who will come get them if they say a foul word or commit an offense.
I can’t speak all the folks in the world who’ve experienced this type of negative theology, but the conversation with Jane helped (at least that’s what she told me) her understand that there are faith people out there who just want to love their neighbor and love God to the best of their abilities. Do you have friends like Jane? Do you know people who have a misconception of Christianity as it should be, rather than that which was taught as a ghost story?
Church has become a five-letter word in a four-letter-using-world. People have forgotten that it exists and there's no room for it in conversation. People are shying away from our community because they don’t know that they won’t be judged; and that they’re safe being who they are within these hallowed walls. Now more than ever, our task is to reclaim and then proclaim the name of Jesus Christ for the good of the world. It’s time to take the trepidation out of the equation when speaking to our friends—old and new—in everyday conversations.
Notice that I didn’t bring up the fact that I was a priest to Jane, she found that out because someone asked me how church was that morning (again, my atheist friend). But once she did, I didn’t say, “Oh, yeah, I am but I don’t talk about stuff like that when I’m not at church.” Instead, I engaged gently and answered questions without uttering—or screaming—HAVE YOU BEEN SAVED BY JESUS!? It really is a simple thing, to speak about faith in a way that is natural to you. We don’t have to know every word in the Bible. You don’t need to go to seminary. All we need to do is allow the Spirit to be present in every conversation so that those who might be seeking a deeper or different understanding will hear the comforting words and good news of Jesus Christ. And then maybe we’ll start seeing some new faces among us. Also, not EVERY conversation needs to be centered on Jesus Christ—our relationships are based on knowing quite a few things about one another. But don’t forget that your faith is the chief component of your being; loving God comes first, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have a refreshing drink in the sun and talk about your faith at the same time. Let’s reclaim the name that saved us, proclaim the faith that sustains us, and exclaim the love—in a real and genuine way—that we receive from being part of God’s community.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
May 23, 2018
Words have the power to change the world for the better or for the worse. Last week, I watched a man stand with dignity, courage and integrity in the midst of a hallowed space filled with people unaccustomed to passionately delivered rhetoric concerning Jesus Christ. Yet, Bishop Michael Curry knew he was called there to deliver a message to the world—not just a royal couple—and he did so without flinching from the culture immediately surrounding him. He could have recited sermons’ past wedding platitudes, given brief instruction on how difficult marriage can be sometimes, and then sat down. But he didn’t.
He spoke Love, with a capital L, and the world is still reeling from the shockwave.
How desperate is this world for a message of Love? Bishop Michael didn’t say anything new to us, per se, about the life-giving and liberating passion of Jesus Christ—we hear that good news every Sunday in some form or another from our preachers, teachers, and friends asking about our lives. Lest we forget, however, we get to experience that community based Love everySunday; most other people in the world view church as something ‘other’ than that which we know to be true. When the Most Rev. Michael spoke to them—the people without Church communities—I have to wonder if those are the first words of Love uttered to broken hearts and longing ears in quite some time. Given the tweets, articles, television interviews and attention his sermon received, I have to pause and thank God for a bigger stage upon which to stand. I also am grateful for the opportunity to expound on that same grace-filled and loving message that perhaps changes hearts and lives more than I (or we) ever knew possible.
When spoken passionately and proclaimed boldly, words can change this world for the better. But there’s another side to that coin: We have to speak them. While unspoken Love lies idle awaiting its turn to be uttered and received, the words of doubt and shame loudly invade the landscape of barren and loveless discourse between neighbors. These negative sentiments plant themselves in the broken hearts of the unloved, the undesirable, and the unwilling. Those seeds of destruction then fester and grow strong roots and stalks, casting shade over an already darkening world.
We have to remember our roles in tending to the lost and lonely, the left behind and longing. Passionate deliverance from desperation and despondency can only occur when we proclaim boldly and Love willingly. How will your words change the world? How can we all do more to create a culture of Love in our immediate spheres of influence? How can we help to breathe Love, speak Love, and carry Love into a suffocating, breathless, and seemingly deaf world? It begins in our everyday speech with one another and with the world around us. We have to remember our baptism and our charge to “respect the dignity of every human being,” while “proclaiming by WORD and deed.” Tell a stranger about the Church, today. Tell them that there’s a place where they’ll be accepted, involved and Loved without judgement. And then, make sure you tell yourself the same thing. I’ll start it for us: I love you. I’m proud to be in community with you. I’m thankful for you. And most importantly, I thank God for putting you in my life. Now, go; be the hands and feet of Jesus. Go, be Love.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+
May 16, 2018
Summertime is upon us. The four days of Spring graciously bestowed upon us by Oklahoma weather have come and gone and now we all look toward summer trips, shade dwelling, sun bathing and—for some—vacations. It’s interesting how the school year affects our liturgical year, and our church attendance for that matter. I don’t know what to expect concerning attendance this summer, but I’m not naïve to the amount of travel and ‘other’ things that will inevitably take some of you away more than usual.
But before we get swept up in summertime, I wanted to share with you some joy of Spring.
Spring is a time of life, of rebirth for the world. After a cold, hard Winter, saplings bud and flowers bloom; the rain comes and nourishes the hard soil, bringing life and vitality back to it. Sure, we have to go out into our gardens and till, dig, replant, and water but for the most part, our job is made easier by the changing of the season. As long as the earth is prepared for summer during spring, the hot days will yield more than just a suntan, they’ll produce fruit from the labors of spring.
The Church is much the same way, these days. Resurrection has fought a long, hard, and cold Winter for the last few years. But you’ve maintained a Spring mentality—always cleaning, improving, planting, and never giving up. Now we’re walking into a new Spring. We have more people attending every week, more ministries growing and thriving, new children among us, returning friends from long ago. All of this is wonderful and indicative of what Spring brings: life. But we still have to work for it. We still have to plant the seeds, till the ground, and pour water on our foundation to keep it thriving.
Vacations are fantastic—I encourage you all to take as much time as you can and go see other places!! But remember that your church relies upon you to practice good stewardship and maintain the course. Very seldom do I speak of giving in the church; but occasionally it’s necessary to gently remind ourselves that the Church relies upon each of us to continue the ministries that we so dearly love.
If you are going away, or plan to take some extended time in another state—we’ll be here when you return, with arms wide open. All I ask is that you remember your pledge to this place and that you know how important it is that we keep practicing good stewardship, year-round. If you’re curious about ACH (it’s an automatic bank draft, done weekly or monthly) please reach out. If you’d like to know where you stand currently, we’ll be sending out statements of giving very soon. We are not sending out these statements to guilt anyone!!! It’s simply a way in which to track your giving alongside your pledge.
I appreciate all of you, dearly. I have grown to love this place and the people in it; Nicole and I are home. If you do go, know that the rest of us will keep the lights on for you while you’re gone; but don’t forget that your help helps us to do that. We’ve done the work of Spring, let’s continue that pledge through Summer, so that Fall isn’t a fall at all…just another season within which we grow into a stronger and more beautiful community.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+