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Closing Remarks to Convention 2024

Setting our Sea Anchor to Face the Waves
Closing Remarks to the 203rd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia
The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue

“I really believe that God is in our lives. Every day. Every single day. When we walk outside, anything can happen, but if you have faith and believe in God, you’ll be all right.” 

The wisdom that Standing Committee member Toni Blue brings is not that nothing bad will happen, but that with God with us, God will work in and through whatever happens. The Apostle Paul told the Christians in Rome, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” Not that all things are good. That wouldn’t be realistic. It is not that God created the loss of a job, the end of a relationship, or a terminal diagnosis. This wisdom is about how God can take every bad thing that happens and weave it together into something good. Our Triune God is in the redemption business.

We see this in the Acts of the Apostles as in the first seven chapters of this story of what happened to Jesus’ followers after his resurrection we see how they preach with boldness and thousands come to faith. Then as that seventh chapter is ending, the Deacon Stephen is stoned to death. A persecutation breaks out against the Jesus Movement and the community scatters. Then in Acts 8, we see how God uses this tragedy to spread the Gospel. Disciples who would have stayed together in Jerusalem are soon spreading the grace, mercy, and forgiveness they have found to people who would have remained lost and left out if the faith had stayed within that small geographic area.

We don’t believe that God willed that persecution, but God did what God does and used the hatred as an opportunity for more love, as the darkness can never overcome the light. How did they withstand the backlash against their faith in Jesus? They could continue to love others because of the presence and power of the Holy One in their hearts and minds through the power of the Holy Spirit. This was not reserved for the early church alone.

Toni reminding us that “God is in our lives. Every day. Every single day” is the sure and certain knowledge that because of this, it is reasonable and right to pause and despair. You gotta feel your feelings. But then, recall that God is present with you and that is how we move from despair to hope. As I named in my sermon that started us off yesterday, “Despair is what arises in our spirits when we look realistically at this situation but do so without the hope in a God who acts in human history.”

Toni is talking about the hope we can have in a situation that could lead to despair, because we worship a living God who gives us a Living Hope. This image has framed our strategic planning process as we depend not on what we could accomplish through our own might or ingenuity alone. We count on the guidance of the Holy Spirit through whom we can do more than we could ever ask for or imagine. In this process of listening, what I have heard most clearly is the ways in which we long for greater connection and mutual support and many in this room and around the Diocese, are ready to step forward to make that a reality that does not depend on me and my staff alone. The challenges we face are being worked together for the good, so we have sound reasons to be hopeful. 

During my first months as your bishop, Victoria and I spent most mornings walking in Savannah’s cemeteries. This was during the lockdown phase of the pandemic and the graveyards offered for a lovely place to walk without anyone else around as we would arrive at dawn. We would vary which of the beautiful old burial grounds we would walk in and so took in lots of tombstones. 

Hope features on a lot of Victorian markers, often as the word inscribed on an anchor, sometimes just the anchor itself. Like an anchor chain connecting a ship to sea floor, hope connects us to something sure and certain. 

Our hope is not based on something that is passing. Our hope is connected to the eternal as we are grounded in God and rooted in Jesus. But don’t let me mix my metaphors too much. Let’s stay with the anchor. When a storm hits, if you can’t secure your boat in a marina, you have to anchor it or ride the storm out. If the water is shallow, you better drop the anchor off the bow to prevent drifting into rocks or out to sea. But I believe we are in deep waters and there is another way and that is the image I want to offer for what we are doing in this coming year. Deploying a sea anchor off the bow can be the best way for a smaller craft to weather a storm. Rather than the solid anchor found on Victorian graves, a sea anchor looks like a parachute.

This sea anchor stops the craft from drifting downwind. The sea anchor keeps the bow pointing windward, facing the waves head on. The reason this image speaks to me is that it shows that we are not being blown about by the winds of the culture or doing what the open water equivalent is of an ostrich burying its head. A sea anchor offers real stability, keeping a boat from being tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind. Anchored to the sea itself, the boat is not pushed off course, but turned into the storm in what could otherwise be an overcoming sea, we can not only endure, but in the words of the hymn Joyful, Joyful, we can experience the “Wellspring of the joy of living,​ ocean-depth of happy rest​.”

As a Diocese, we do see the challenges we face and we will face them head on. We want to look directly at the problems in sustainability that have plagued Honey Creek since the pandemic, some of which came, of course, long before. We need to consider the challenges facing congregations of every size as we are all experiencing the impact of the loss of generations of parishioners who gave generously to their church. For some, this has meant fewer priests on a staff, when that support is still very much needed by the congregation. For others, it means difficulty having a full-time priest, or finding a priest who can serve part-time, or not currently having a priest who routinely serves the congregation.

As I have said before, from my vantage point, I see that we do face serious threats to business as usual, yet I also see that there is no existential threat to our church. The threat is to the church we became in the boom years following the Second World War. In 1925, 35 priests served the 60 congregations of the Diocese of Georgia, which by that point had the same boundary with the Diocese of Atlanta to the north for 18 years, so this was the same size Diocese. Bishop F.F. Reese reported that year that the 414 confirmations were the most in a year since the state was divided into two dioceses in 1907. 35 priests for 60 congregations was considered to be a priest for every church as the norm was lay led Morning Prayer for many congregations on most Sundays. I am not saying that is exactly where we are headed, but I want to point out that when we had fewer clergy by far serving fewer congregations, this Diocese had the sense that we were thriving, because we were. Lives were being changed for the better by the Gospel of Jesus Christ from Augusta and Albany to Brunswick and Savannah. They were also being transformed by the presence of the living God in Sandersville and Cordele, Quitman and St. Marys.

We have a living hope in a risen savior. We need not manage decline as there are ways we can do more. We have seen that in the church’s in Augusta. When the vestry of Christ Church in the Harrisburg voted to close, we could see the vital ministry still ongoing in that place and we kept the doors open and have birthed the Byllesby Center there, named for Deaconess Ruth Byllesby who ministered there for years. We are doing more there than ever. In Glynn County, our congregations formed Glynn Episcopal Ministries that has more impact as they work together for the good. And in Savannah, St. John’s Church reached out to other congregations as they are starting a respite ministry for care givers, Hope Haven, as that is also something we can do better together than as a single parish. So the new Episcopal Center that will house the diocesan offices while ministry continues alongside us is following that lead. There is more than we can do when we work together.

And the great news within our strategic planning process is how you want to bring more of the gifts God has given you to enrich the life of this community. I see this process as unlocking untapped potential already present in our midst. This is not about working harder. That is not the Gospel. This is about sharing the load. When more of us bring what we can joyfully offer, we will find that God can, does, and will bless what we bring to bear and will do more than we could ask for or imagine. This is not making something happen by our own might or power, but through the Spirit of the living God. 

So, we can face the challenges we see head on knowing that God has not brought us this far to leave us. Whatever causes us to despair, when we tap into the certainty that God can, does, and will show up, we have a reason to hope. We set our anchor not on the sea floor, but on the sea itself, knowing that God is with us, guiding us. We need not fear as the one who could calm the storm is with us. Even more than that, the one who walked upon the waters is with us. We don’t have to shrink back, managing decline. The one who the cosmos could not contain is with us, our transcendent God is with us, and neighbors still need to experience the joy that we have found in Jesus. 

This convention has been so helpful for me. This job is, of course, a blast. Victoria and I get so much joy from crisscrossing backroads to get to worship with you, which makes it all the more wonderful to be able to be together in this way. As you go back to your congregation, please let them know that we are being realistic, and the reason we are not in despair about all we see, is because we are anchored to the sea itself, facing what comes knowing that the Spirit of the living God is working all things together for the good.

Amen.

Bishop’s Address to the 203rd Convention

Living Hope – Bishop’s Address 2024

Beloved in Christ,

We gather in convention celebrating our living hope in a risen savior as we continue to work on discerning how the Spirit is leading us into the future. 

Since we last met in convention in Augusta, that city has been hit hard by Hurricane Helene. As I said in my sermon this morning, the aftermath showed Episcopalians serving their neighbors including at Saint Paul’s where our previous convention Eucharist was celebrated and the Byllesby Center which is supported significantly by Good Shepherd where the convention met in the school gym. While many of us have been able to move on, it will be quite a while before many people in Central and South Georgia can say their lives are back to normal. Crisis reveals what is already present in a community and the Hurricane revealed the faith and resilience of our people and communities.

 Since that gathering, I made 50 visitations to congregations, as well as visiting Episcopal Day School and our campus ministry at Georgia Southern, for 52 of the 69 visitations that make up an 18-month cycle of visits. I also had the privilege of officiating seven ordinations since we last met in convention and the honor of serving in the funerals for priests of this Diocese and the funeral for Bishop Harry Shipps’ beloved wife, Louise, who was herself long woven into the fabric of the Diocese of Georgia.

In my address last year, I called for a strategic planning process and said, “I pledge to you that I will take the time to listen ever more in this coming year through a process that reveals our common goals.”

Since then, I worked with the Executive Council of our Diocesan Council to select Armstrong, McGuire, and Associates to guide that work. As you heard from Mendi Nieters and Todd Brantley, they interviewed more than 16 people one-on-one, held 10 in-person and online listening sessions with 215 participants, and conducted a survey to learn more; nearly 500 of you answered that call. We will use a session this afternoon and another tomorrow to further the discernment toward that plan. I also said last year in my address, “I look forward to the journey of discovery and to the ways God will use the process of creating a strategic plan to reveal what faithfulness to Jesus looks like in this moment.”

Through these meetings, those of you who attended will know of the great hope within those meetings. There is a strong sense that we are connected to one another in meaningful ways. There are also lots of you who want to step forward and help so that what we accomplish together is not just bishop and staff driven, but will increasingly be you, the people of the Diocese, making new connections and assisting others in your area or even across the Diocese in ways that make a huge impact. Mendi and Todd told me that compared to other similar groups what stood out in the Diocese of Georgia is how many people know and care about each other, how connected we are and want to be. They also noted how we didn’t long for more money as the answer to everything, but we see that we need to be faithful to how the Spirit is leading us and we will see that we already have who and what we need to thrive.

One way this is true for me is seeing that we already had an elegant solution possible for using the property we already own in ways that will unlock more mission. In the first quarter of 2025, we will be moving the diocesan offices to a new Episcopal Center on the corner of Washington and Waters Avenues in Savannah. That move is waiting on an extensive renovation effort funded by the sale of the former rectory adjoining the building. The location is the former home of St. Michael and All Angels in Savannah. The benefits of the new location include having more ample parking and better, more accessible meeting spaces for diocesan gatherings while maintaining existing ministry services in the area including operating a food pantry and providing space for community groups to gather. Additionally, the worship space will become a diocesan chapel that can still be used by the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany, while also being available when helpful to the Diocese. Mostly, this move emphasizes ministries happening concurrently in the same space, while offering the potential for much more. This change will also add to the diocesan budget through a sustainable additional draw which will create additional opportunities for us to adapt.

This decision is not about money. This move is about focusing on what matters most. Worship is the heart of ministry and so all of our congregations matter. The work of your bishop and diocesan staff is also important ministry as is feeding our neighbors in need and otherwise engaging with the community around us. I look forward to welcoming you all to this new center for our ministry in midtown Savannah.

One critical place for us to discern together is with our retreat center, it is time for us to find a new way forward. We can’t keep trying harder to make our current model of running Honey Creek work. If trying harder at the same thing would yield a sustainable future, we would already be there. There are no two people who work harder than Dade Brantley and GeorgeAnne Younger. If they can’t make this work, then something has to change. I am convinced that if we were to lose this parish hall of the Diocese, the next owners would turn a profit on that piece of property. Yet, we have within the networks of our Diocese, people who can assist us in a way that makes that asset work for us. To that end, I am taking three steps to address this directly and I am asking you to support me as we move in this direction.

 First, I have added a $50,000 line item to the diocesan budget for Honey Creek support. This is in addition to staff costs we already pay from the diocesan budget. I do this as we have been supporting the Honey Creek budget as needed since the lockdown of the pandemic and it is the honest approach to name that reality. This will assist us in literally buying time in 2025 for the next two parts of the plan.

Second, I am making changes in our staffing to meet the expressed needs of the Diocese. I will get to that shortly as I share the ways that I am beginning to respond to the feedback I have gotten through the strategic planning process. While those staffing decisions are not made for the sake of Honey Creek,  they will enable us to hold more events for both adults and youth at Honey Creek in 2025. These events will be repeated in future years. They will have the Diocese using our retreat center more often.

Third and most important, I told the Diocesan Council in our meeting in September that I will appoint a Task Group of the next Council to take a prayerful, in-depth look at Honey Creek. Task Groups of Council have, since I became your bishop, been a way to gather expertise to address some key concerns. This is part of how we are unlocking the potential within our diocesan community with more people stepping forward to lead, just as you named in the listening session.

We have been using Task Groups to completely revised our Constitution and Canons, addressed our Companion Diocese relationship, looked at our means of assessing congregations, and recommended changes to the schedule for our diocesan conventions. In the past year, a Task Group has been considering the cottage the Diocese has owned in Saluda, North Carolina since the early 1900s as a place for clergy and lay leaders to have relatively inexpensive time away in the mountains. This group, led by the Very Rev. Tom Purdy did some commendable work to look at this property from all sides. That work will continue in the coming year. It demonstrated to the Council the type of work we can do with Honey Creek to either find a sustainable path forward or to admit that we don’t have one. It is time for this realistic appraisal of what it means to own and operate a camp and retreat center. I believe that these three steps taken together—budget support and increasing diocesan usage in 2025 while we empower a group to do some hard work on behalf of all of us—will chart a path for the coming years, one way or another. We owe this change in approach to future generations of the Diocese and to Dade and GeorgeAnne who pour their hearts into keeping Honey Creek operating.

As I have been getting feedback from the listening sessions and the survey, I have seen the direction the  Diocese wishes to move. While there is more to hear, I already see clearly the ways in which the diocesan staff has to be more responsive to you, the people of the Diocese. There are two tiers in the Diocese—those who know staff well and have no trouble getting what they need from staff and those who don’t know who to call or how to learn where to go for help. This is not based on the size of a congregation, but the familiarity with the team. This cannot continue. To address this, I am taking a multi-pronged approach. We are making which staff to call for what is more readily evident on the website. We will also have a complete website redesign in 2025 with the sole goal of making it easier for you to find who you need and what you need. In addition, our phone system now lets a caller more easily reach the person you need. Additionally, I know that I need a Chief of Staff as my travel schedule has me away from the office enough that the staff needs a leader who is with them when I am traveling. Some other changes on staff are taking some responsibilities off of Canon Loren Lasch’s load and I am naming her the Canon to the Ordinary and Chief of Staff. This acknowledges some of what has already been a part of her work with the staff  and leaning into it more.

As I have noted, I was gratified to learn that many of you who took part experienced the same sense of connection to something larger that I have long enjoyed in the Diocese of Georgia. But not everyone is benefitting from that, so that I also see how we need to add to our sense of connection with more ways to support one another.

 In learning the general idea of what was said in the one-on-one interviews, the listening sessions, and then in survey responses, I see that we need a member of the diocesan staff to assist me in increasing the opportunities for connection. To do this, I need someone who knows and loves the congregations, clergy, and lay leaders, while having top-notch project management skills. I could see that we already have this in Canon Joshua Varner. He has agreed to take on a change in his work for the Diocese to become our Canon for Congregational Vitality. His work will be to increase the connections within the diocese in support of our lay leaders and clergy. For example, this will include an offering each February to bring Senior Wardens together online to meet with me and staff and to get an introduction to what the Diocese can do for churches of every size. He will also be bringing back the one-day training we offered in each convocation to develop capacity in our church leaders. This will be just part of the ways we engage more at the convocation level with increased connection. Canon Varner will also add to the Lay Leaders’ Retreat with some other events at Honey Creek including training for Lay Worship Leaders and Lay Preachers who can effectively lead worship for their church when a priest is not present. I am confident that we can create a community among those leading worship that will strengthen what we offer on Sundays when there is not a Eucharist. We have gifted followers of Jesus who are not called to the priesthood, but who can offer engaging sermons and Spirit-filled worship. We need to support those already doing this work and invite others to join in. This is how I want to build on the strength that y’all named in the strategic planning process as Joshua’s role is to assist you, the people of the Diocese, in stepping up to assist others.

This change for Joshua means that he will be stepping away from his work with youth ministries. I am incredibly grateful for his many years of dedication to the youth of the Diocese of Georgia! Moving forward, we will need a new person to lead our critical work with youth. Youth ministry is vitally important, not because youth are the future of the church. Youth are the church now. And we all know how much these years matter. It is a miracle people get out of middle school and high school with any shred of self-esteem. Most people sometime between the age of 10 and 25 pick up emotional wounds that will remain festering and seeping poison into their psyches unless they can find healing. At 40, they remember the name of the bully in sixth grade and at 50, they recall the friend who gossiped and betrayed them. In youth programs, we get to be alongside our kids and teens during these years offering them the sure and certain knowledge that God loves them. Mendy Grant has accepted my invitation to chair a committee made up of experienced youth leaders and more importantly, with teens on the committee assisting in designing what comes next for our Diocesan Youth Ministry. That group will be named in the coming weeks and begin their work with an in-person meeting at Honey Creek. During the interim, Liz Williams will keep Happening running and assist Karen Bell with New Beginnings; we will also assist Karen in her directing summer camp; and I will ask some youth leaders to plan and carry out some additional events even as we create a position description and hire someone to do this essential ministry.

I was surprised and delighted when our search for a new Canon for Administration ended with Andrew Austin accepting this call. He has already demonstrated as Treasurer his focus on the mission of the church as driving our sense of what it means to be effective. In his new role he will continue to help us ask the important questions surrounding our ministry: Are the ways in which we are deploying our resources resulting in more people coming to experience faith in Jesus, are those who already are in our pews encouraged and offered ways to deepen their faith, and are we reaching out to our communities to share that love with others? 

With Daniel Garrick choosing to step down as Assistant Administrator, we have a vacant staff position. We will not fill that yet, but the existing team will work together to cover the responsibilities through the end of the year. We will listen to what emerges from this convention and we will notice the gaps that need staff support. Then we will be in a position to decide how to best staff the Diocese with your needs in mind.

In order to keep you informed about the ways in which I have heard you and am beginning to respond, this address has focused a lot on Honey Creek and Diocesan Staff. But these are the levers at hand for me to begin to shift us in the direction that you named that is built on a desire to better be there for one another. I trust that you know that my real focus is not to make an institution more effective, as important as that is. The Diocese only matters to the degree it supports the Body of Christ in this corner of the vineyard. My goal, your diocesan staff’s goal, is to support you and your congregations for the purpose of bringing glory to God and bringing more people into a relationship with Jesus.

In every community where we have a church, we are surrounded by people who still need the grace, mercy, and love found only in Jesus. They need this more than they need air and water and yet they are sure that the one place where they won’t find that vital is in a church as they have been hurt by the church or only seen Christians as hypocritical. The world is not waiting for us to get our act together and so come flocking through our doors. We have to do what is necessary in inviting new people to worship with us, welcoming newcomers as if welcoming Jesus and then connecting them to the Body of Christ in our congregations. This is the work of every generation as we pass our faith on to those who will follow. We know that fewer people in younger generations are attending church. If we don’t work now to connect with them, they won’t find their way to the faith that nourishes us. That is an avoidable tragedy. For we know that our neighbors need Jesus as much as we do. We are to be faithful now as those who founded our churches were in their day. We know that the Holy Spirit has done not only the difficult, but also the seemingly impossible before and can and surely will do it again. 

 We have a living hope in a risen savior and this is no time to shrink back from the challenges before us, for greater is the one that is in us than the one that is in the world. As your chief priest and pastor, I find myself, as always, extremely grateful to be with you on this team.

Amen.

Living Hope: Sermon for the 203rd Convention Holy Eucharist

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue preached this sermon at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church Tifton, Georgia on November 8, 2024 for the 203rd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia.

Living Hope
1 Peter 1:3-9 and Luke 24:13-35

The shepherd is out on the dusty road in the shank of the day, rounding up not one, but two lost sheep. He is seven miles beyond the old stone walls of Jerusalem. The Shepherd knows where to find these two who are wandering further from the flock. He expected this. He had spoken those words from the Prophet Zechariah hours earlier at Passover in an Upper Room, “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.”

Now, Jesus joins Cleopas and the unnamed other disciple on the road. They are in the depths of despair as they walk toward Emmaus. Neither of these first followers of Jesus know this seeming stranger on the road to be their Rabbi. This lack of recognition reveals the way despair clouds our vision and hinders us from seeing rightly.

Jesus asks them what has transpired this Passover as if he doesn’t have a clue. Cleopas and the other disciple tell Jesus about how the one they thought was the Messiah had been put to death and then add, “Some women from our group have l

eft us stunned. They went to the tomb early this morning and didn’t find his body. They came to us saying that they had even seen a vision of angels who told them he is alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women said. They didn’t see him.”

Despite Jesus’ having prepared the group traveling with him by telling them in advance what would happen, they were unprepared for Jesus’ crucifixion and burial. The devastating pain of Friday’s grief had made it feel impossible to go on. That heartache remains so raw on this Sunday afternoon. These two have heard Jesus’ resurrection proclaimed by the women who described a vision of angels, but as Peter and John found the tomb empty, without seeing Jesus, they remained in anguish.

Despair is diametrically opposed to hope. This is part of the teachings of the great Christian ascetics that we know as the Desert Mothers and Fathers who lived as hermits in the Egyptian desert in the 4th century after Jesus’ resurrection. They named despair as one of what we know as the Seven Deadly Sins. Sloth is how we in the West translated their word which is better translated as Despair.

In Rowan Williams’ Passion of the Soul, which will be our 1Book1Diocese read for this coming Lent, works from this desert wisdom as talks about despair as the difference between Peter and Judas. Both betrayed Jesus. Judas ends his life while in the midst of despair, while Peter makes it through that dark night of the soul to see the risen Jesus and so finds hope renewed.

Despair is the natural condition that arises from looking at the fallen world as it is. We see all the effects of our sin and disobedience to God’s will. We see the painful divisions that we humans have collectively created. Despair is what arises in our spirits when we look realistically at this situation but do so without the hope in a God who acts in human history. Hope sees the world from the godly perspective, knowing that all we see is not all that there is.

I want to pause here to note how the Enlightenment that led to the gifts of modernity also found its way into our faith. The Desert Mothers and Fathers saw the struggle of good and evil playing out not just in their lives as they saw the cosmic struggle of good and evil playing itself out within their own hearts as they sought through their prayers and fasting to overcome temptations. They lived in a world shot through with a sense of transcendence, the knowledge that what we see is not all that exists in the universe as the time we live in is held in eternity. 

The Enlightenment of the 17th and 18th centuries grew out of the Christian quest for knowledge of the natural world. The very pursuit that Christianity began and encouraged took on a life of its own when the only things that could be claimed as fact were things provable through the scientific method. Don’t hear me as bashing reason though. I love modern medicine and air conditioning. But while Karl Marx was proclaiming Christianity was “an opiate for the masses” and Nietzsche declaring, “God is dead,” the cultural concepts of God were not the only things dying. The whole Enlightenment project itself was beginning to unravel.

For anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear, the idea that everything was getting better all the time was revealed to be a lie to those who watched their friends die in the trenches of Europe in the First World War. Any sense that a scientific approach alone could provide a better future died in Auschwitz and incinerated at Hiroshima. We could no longer delude ourselves into believing that science alone could guide us into a better world. We need to be guided by the Spirit of the living God. 

Yet, we see how a few centuries of increasingly explaining away faith in rational terms sapped belief of its believability. Science seemed to grow by leaps and bounds, leaving religion tagging along. This put our sense of the world in the box of the immanent, the sense that what I see and know is all that there is to know. Yet our faith in Jesus Christ is both immanent and transcendent. We worship Jesus as Emmanuel, “God with us.” The eternal Word becoming flesh and living among us shows the immanence of God, God is in all things. But unlike in pantheism, where God is identified with the universe, which is a manifestation of the divine, we know that the creator is not contained within the creation. Augustine of Hippo wrote that the divine is both within me and beyond me saying that God is, “more inward than my most inward part, higher than the highest element within me.” 

God is in everything, but also beyond all matter, and not is bound by space and time. This is no small thing, as if we lose the sense that God will not show up, then despair makes perfect sense. Yet, we know that the God who made us out of love for love is not standing back like a disinterested clockmaker or an unjust judge. Our transcendent God entered into this broken world in the person of Jesus, to redeem us through his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension. This same God is with us in everything we face and yet beyond us, seeing our finite world from the perspective of eternity.

I wanted to add this before we rejoin our trio on the Road to Emmaus as we see both of these aspects of God in this passage. Knowing the immanent God who is present in our hearts and minds as well as the transcendent one who inhabits eternity matters for how we Episcopalians in Central and South Georgia can navigate the coming years for our congregations and how each of us can thrive in our one wild and wonderful life no matter what happens.

On the Road to Emmaus, Jesus offered the best Bible study in human history. He patiently explains how everything he has done was predicted by the prophets which is apparent in the light of the resurrection. The prime example of this is Isaiah 53 that says, “Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.”

God gave Isaiah the gift of this prophecy so that after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, the church could know that the crucifixion was Divine Providence. That while we were yet sinners, the Messiah would come and die for us. We see that in his teaching after the resurrection, Jesus finally broke through to get his followers to see how this was what was planned all along. In the incarnation, God becoming human in Jesus, was God’s bold plan to enter into the creation to weave back together the fabric of the cosmos, torn by human disobedience and sin. The one who the cosmos could not contain humbled himself and in this we see that the Holy Trinity is not a distant observer, but knows and understands this broken world from the inside. When we experience betrayal, suffering, and crippling grief, we know that God truly understands as Jesus experienced all of this and more.

Jesus does not break into human history with blinding light and an audible voice. Often, I experience God in what could seem like coincidences and yet are clearly something more. One example that comes to mind here at St. Anne’s. When I was assisting Bishop Benhase as Canon to the Ordinary, I was at a meeting with my colleagues in the same position throughout the southeast. We were in Charleston. On the last morning of the meeting, I decided that rather than praying Morning Prayer in my hotel room, I would go to Grace Cathedral to pray. When I got there, a woman was about and to lead a scheduled service of Morning Prayer that I did not know was set to happen. It was just the two of us in the chapel in the back of the cathedral dedicated to their martyred bishop. After praying together, I introduced myself and learned that she was the Cathedral Administrator Emily Guerry. When she learned what I did for a living, she said she was interested in moving to our Diocese to be near her parents, ideally along I-75. I explained that those calls were rare and I didn’t always hear of them, but I promised to listen for any possibilities. The meeting ended later that morning and I drove home to Savannah. Once back, I opened my email to see that the Rev. Lonnie Lacey had written to say the vestry had budgeted money for a top-notch administrator. He wanted assistance in finding the right person. I replied that the Holy Spirit had already taken care of that for us and gave him Emily’s contact information. She interviewed and Emily, Lonnie, and the Vestry could all see that this had been God’s doing. Moments like this cause me to say, “God is showing off.” 

There are also the times when someone experiences and unbidden experience of peace or a sense of the oneness of creation that they know is from God. I know firsthand about such experience and second and third hand about so many more. Considering the stigma, many remain silent rather than share what they saw and felt and the long impact a mystical experience has had on their lives. I discovered that if I ask “Have their been any experiences hard to explain to others that have mattered a lot to you?” I will find someone has had a small mystical experience that is significant for them, yet they have trouble sharing as it could easily be dismissed by others. 

Our loving God often works in and through the hearts of those who will listen. The Spirit can and does use seemingly small moments like when someone feels they should take a friend to chemotherapy and sit with them or when another person shows up to be with a co-worker after the death of their child. Every time we embody love to a neighbor we don’t just have hope, we are living hope.

 We saw what living hope looks like in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. Along the storm’s surprising path, Grace Church in Waycross used its existing connection to the Okefenokee Alliance for the Homeless to provide sleeping bags, tents, baby supplies, and more. Annunciation in Vidalia, St. Mary Magdalene in Louisville, Trinity in Statesboro provided gift cards and pastoral care to neighbors who were hurting. In Valdosta church members provided care and support for one another and those in the community impacted by the storm. In Douglas, the people of St. Andrew’s provided meals, including a Thanksgiving feast, gift cards, and pastoral care aided by our friends in the Diocese of Alabama.  Saint Paul’s in Augusta opened their hearts to the downtown, even as they welcome people to recharge physically and spiritually through safe air-conditioned space and days of meals. At the Byllesby Center in Augusta, more than 2,000 hot meals were provided together with other support. Episcopalians in Savannah coordinated drop offs to get diapers and feminine products from local nonprofit Over the Moon to some of the hardest hit areas in our diocese. We experienced the generosity of the people in the Diocese of Central Florida in sending aid to Augusta. At Calvary in Americus, they collected support for our friends experiencing the immense tragedy of flooding in Western North Carolina. In each of these acts, we were not holding on to hope, but living hope. This is part of how the transcendent one acts in human history. 

Seeing the ways God has broken into your life before gives confidence when looking to an uncertain future. For example, we can look at decline in church participation across the generations and join others in despair. Or we can look to the ways that the living God has been present with us in the past, is with us now, and already holds the future. That perspective makes it possible to be both realistic about where we are and what we face while remaining hopeful about the future. Whatever causes us to despair, when we tap into the certainty that God can, does, and will show up, we have a reason to hope.

The same is true for you and your family, that whatever may come, you know and are loved by the God who holds eternity and is also Emmanuel, with you in every storm of life. Knowing the power and presence of God is what makes turning from despair to hope not only possible, but also reasonable and right. For greater is the one who is in us than the one in our despairing world. Amen.

Hurricane Helene Response

We have received a number of inquiries from outside of the Diocese about where to send donations for Disaster relief. The first way to do this is to donate directly to the Bishop’s Fund for Disaster Relief. This money will go directly to helping our parishes and Honey Creek in meeting their deductibles as they repair damages to their properties, which is a needed type of aid that is not covered by other grants. Once those initial costs are covered, any leftover donated funds will be used for additional assistance as needed.

The damaged sanctuary of St. Bartholomew’s in Savannah.

Donations can be sent by check to the diocesan office(18 E 34th Street, Savannah, GA 31401) or by texting “EDOG Relief” to 73256 or by clicking this link for the Realm giving portal: https://onrealm.org/EpiscopalDioces91807/-/form/give/relief

The second way to provide aid across the Diocese is to give to Episcopal Relief and Development. ERD provides grants to dioceses to help them send direct aid to the most vulnerable in their communities impacted by this disaster. Donations can be sent to ERD’s Hurricane Relief fund by clicking this link: https://www.episcopalrelief.org/what-you-can-do/give/donate-now/individual-donation/

Assessing Damage and Assisting Neighbors

Across the many towns heavily impacted by Hurricane Helene, we know of significant damage to four churches and a heavy clean up needed at Honey Creek. Beyond this, many of the communities of the Diocese of Georgia are overwhelmed by the scale of the damage to homes, businesses, and infrastructure. The recovery will be a long one in towns including Valdosta, Douglas, Vidalia, Louisville, Swainsboro, and the Augusta area.

The photo shows a downed tree at Christ Church in Augusta, where the building was spared and the Byllesby Center is continuing to serve the community.

Damaged Church Buildings

The churches at Christ the King in Valdosta, St. Andrew’s in Douglas, St. Bartholomew’s in Savannah, and the parish hall at Good Shepherd in Swainsboro all suffered in the storm. This is in addition to minor damage to many other church buildings as well as so many trees that need to be cut up and removed from church property.

While the insurance will cover much of the cost of the repairs, the deductible in a “named storm” like Helene, is 2% of the value of each of the buildings with a loss. This leaves the congregations with $8-10,000 deductibles or more instead of the usual $1,000. This is a heavy burden the Diocese will lighten. Some of the funds given to our disaster response will assist with this need.

This photo shows one of the two pine trees that crashed through the roof of the parish hall at Good Shepherd in Swainsboro.

Honey Creek Update

Our retreat center was largely spared damage to the buildings. The exceptions are roof damage to the Dock Study building and a pine tree that fell on Jonnard Cottage, leaving minor damage to the roof. But there are a lot of trees down all over the property. Thanks to the Episcopal Camps and Conference Centers network, we will have 20 volunteers from the Diocese of South Carolina’s Camp St. Christopher working on the grounds on Thursday and Friday. If you would like to join their efforts, there is plenty of work to go around. Let our Executive Director, Dade Brantley, know you will be there (dade@honeycreek.org).

The photo shows the pine tree that landed on the corner of the roof at Jonnard Cottage, without breaking through the ceiling.

Assisting Neighbors

There are so many efforts underway, that we can’t report on them all, but across the Diocese, congregations are offering assistance to their communities. This includes the Byllesby Center in Augusta providing daily hot meals. yesterday they fed more than 150 people, while also offering lots of water as the county has a boil water advisory and many are not able to do so without power. Saint Paul’s in downtown Augusta has been opening the church to provide electricity and wifi in a rare Augusta building with air conditioning. They have also offered a meal, with chicken chalupas and ham gumbo served yesterday.

Photo of volunteers stacking up bottled water for distribution at the Byllesby Center.

An Episcopal Relief and Development Grant

Bishop Logue has secured a grant from Episcopal Relief and Development, which will assist in our congregations providing direct assistance to our neighbors in the greatest need. Additional grant funds are available from ERD if we use up this grant and are still responding to individuals and families whose lives are impacted by Hurricane Helene.

If your congregation is prepared to assess the needs and distribute money in the form of gift cards to those with a verified need, please contact Canon Loren Lasch (llasch@gaepiscopal.org). The money may also be used to purchase items like bottled water for distribution.

This crumpled roof covering an aged flat roof is over Christ the King in Valdosta.

A Christmas Message from Bishop Logue

Christmas 2023
The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue
Bishop, Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

As I prepared to speak to you, I found myself thinking back on my first occasion to preach Christmas. I was in my first year of seminary in Virginia, with my first semester nearly finished, when I received offers to preach while visiting family in Georgia…at a new church start in Thomaston on Christmas Eve and at Grace-Calvary in Clarksville on the First Sunday after Christmas. It was intimidating to prepare the two sermons. The evening I arrived in Thomaston, the priest asked, “So what new insight will you share with us this evening from your seminary studies?”

“All of my best material is 2,000 years old,” I told him. “I am quite sure I have nothing new to say.”

“Thanks be to God!” he replied. “I was nervous about asking a seminarian to preach.”

The story is familiar and was probably best told by Linus in the old Charlie Brown Christmas special. Yet, if we let it get too familiar, we lose how world-changing it is to talk about God becoming human.

There is a different turn on Jesus’ birth that has found its way into my preaching. This way of looking at the Nativity can be difficult to share, because so many of us carry hurts related to birth and to parents, but I hope you will hang with me, as this word, Nativity, is also a healing word for all of us.

Victoria and I know first hand, the grief of losing a baby that did not make it all the way to birth. And, I have prayed faithfully with women on the difficult journey of yearning to get pregnant. Sometimes that fervent prayer appears to have resulted in the birth of a child that seems all the more miraculous and sometimes, that is never to be. Then beyond this, we know, painfully well, that not every child is born into a loving family.

The Nativity is a story of birth that holds out the hope of healing and wholeness for everyone, especially those of us who know the pain of miscarriages and those who remain childless while longing for a baby as well

as those whose parents were abusive or absent. The hope of that healing comes from God with us, a Savior who fully understands this grief and all the suffering of this life.

So with this build up, it sounds like I am ready to offer some great insight. Instead, I offer something small. A moment in time.

I used to think that the most miraculous of moments was that of a mother and father looking into the eyes of their child for the first time.

I recall that moment with our daughter, Griffin.

Pure magic.

I discovered this year an even more world changing and life-giving moment of recognition.

This moment comes when a baby sees, truly sees and knows the people who nurture and care for them as people separate from all the other people who have ever been or ever will be.

This is my person. They care for me. I can count on them.

The baby learns to love from the love she sees, the love he feels.

In this I see Jesus’ birth with new eyes. For when the Word, who is Jesus, became flesh and dwelt among us, the second person of the Trinity experienced this moment, finding himself in the eyes of his mother, Mary, and then seeing the love shining on Joseph’s face.

The love that is God, experienced this magical moment of recognition of perfect love looking on him.

The God who is love did not stand back like a disinterested clockmaker watching from afar, or as a righteous judge ready to condemn. The God who

is love needed nothing, and yet created us out of love for love. Then the second person of the Trinity chose to enter into creation and became the neediest being of all, a baby, dependent on parents for everything. In this baby is love, for love is always vulnerable.

While Jesus was fully divine, in the Incarnation, in becoming human, Jesus was also fully human. Mary and Joseph were chosen to provide what every infant needs, eyes of love for the baby to find themselves within.

Each of us is aided by finding ourselves mirrored in the love of someone who sees us fully and loves us completely. It need not be a parent and it does not have to occur when we are an infant. When we experience that love, we experience what the love God has for us is like. For some that is a grandparent or teacher or some other person who comes to love you not for what you can do for them, but for your very existence. While I was raised by loving parents, I also saw this healthy mirroring in others, like my leaders in Boy Scouts, and so have felt what it is like to provide this same type of unconditional love for people who missed this love from their parents.

Everyone needs to experience the sure and certain knowledge that while they are not perfect, they are enough for someone, and so see how they are also enough for the King of Creation. The cost of not knowing this truth is incalculably high.

We find so much suffering unleashed as hurting people wound other people in a vicious circle, until shame and fear begin to guide someone’s responses to the people around them.

We see all of the tragedies of this world as turning from God, especially in a year where the land of our Savior’s birth has been torn apart by terrorism and war.

In the fallen reality that is human existence, the Good News is that God knows fully, pain and grief. Jesus came to know his parents’ love as they were on the run from King Herod’s rage, seeing Jesus as a threat to his kingdom.

Jesus’ first years were spent as a refugee in Egypt. He grew to adulthood in a country oppressed by an empire extracting wealth from far flung lands.

Jesus’ life revealed what the love of God looks like in the face of a Savior who could see, truly see, those who others looked past. He taught us to love our neighbors and showed us that everyone is a neighbor, no one is meant to be seen as Other. Jesus looked with eyes of compassion on those who were lost and left out or marginalized, and in so doing, transformed their lives.

Christmas is the heart of the Christian faith, for human history was forever changed by a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, and who himself, experienced love in the eyes of his mother, Mary.

As we move into the joyous celebration of the God who is love entering into creation, may the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his face to you and give you peace. Amen.

Closing Remarks for the 202nd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

Closing remarks at the 202nd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia by the Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue

November 11, 2023
Church of the Good Shepherd, Episcopal Day School
Augusta, GA

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

These words from the collect in Evening Prayer kept calling to me this year. I was drawn to this prayer as this is an invitation to the Living God. I mentioned in my Address that as we arrived in Kingsland, we had a vision for a church that was essential to the community around it. The other thing we said in those days was that we wanted to do something for God that if the Holy Spirit did not show up, we would fall flat on our faces and look like idiots. The vision had to be big enough to fail, save for God’s action.

There were times during that decade of work that I wished we had a vision small enough to accomplish on our own. And yet, I found time and again the ways in which what was unfolding was not our doing. In church planting circles, what we were doing was starting a church from scratch, rather than being the daughter church of a larger congregation nearby. From scratch. Once we were doing the work, I could see how I would meet someone and invite them to be a part of this new community and would hear all the ways in which the Holy Spirit had long been preparing the soil for that seed to take root.

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

Kindling new fire took a bit of faith in the first centuries of the Church. They were blissfully unaware of Bic lighters and all too familiar with the struggle to spark a fire from scratch. Yet, in the earliest Christians would extinguish their lights on Good Friday, wait across the uncertainty of Holy Saturday and spark new fire for the Easter Vigil.

The darkness on that long night of Good Friday into a hopeless dawn left the disciples in deep grief. The light of the Glory of God that had been revealed in the face of Jesus had gone out for ever. The first followers of Jesus were flat on their faces, looking like idiots to everyone who had seen and heard them proclaim Jesus as the promised Messiah. And what happened next in the resurrection relied solely on the Holy Trinity. The kindling. The awakening. These were the Spirit’s actions. This is why sparking a new fire for the Easter Vigil became such a powerful symbol of how God can and does make a way where there is no way.

There are times when it all seems too much. A church is too heavy to carry. Y’all know this. If ever someone is preaching to the choir, it is me telling y’all a church can be heavy. And a Diocese is more than any of us could possibly carry. The Good News is that we don’t have to and we shouldn’t try. This Church belongs to the Holy Trinity. There is a savior and that savior is not me and it is none of you either.

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

We are not waiting in darkness. We do have the light of Christ and there are many ways that I am already seeing the sparks, the evidence of God doing something new.

This past year, I met several times with a couple who hoped to do something to help turn around the present situation of our not having enough priests to serve our churches. They decided to make an anonymous gift to the Diocese of Georgia creating the Great and Small Fund to assist with the expenses of those studying for Holy Orders in the Diocese of Georgia, hoping that they can make the path possible for the people God is calling to serve as priests. Their gift of a quarter million dollars is most generous and helpful. I join them in hoping that their donation will spark generosity from others who will add to the fund, growing the opportunity for us to raise up a new generation of priests and with your support, a generation of priests after that one. Their hope gave me hope and it came at a time when some of the other sparks I am seeing are the many people stepping forward to discern a call to serve as a deacon or priest.

Dr. Bertice Berry and Becky Dorrell are both candidates for the diaconate finishing up the Deacons’ School for Ministry, following not too long after I ordained the Rev. Noelle Raiford as a deacon. We have Shelley Martin, Brenda Brunston, and Roger Speer studying full-time at Sewanee where Doug McPherson and Jim Strickland are studying to serve bi-vocationally in the ACTS Program and Ken Shrader is finishing up his internships that followed those studies as he prepares for bi-vocational ministry. We have Ethan White as a full-time student at Virginia Seminary. Brandon Medley continues to work in the Colquitt County School, while taking part in a new Hybrid program at General Seminary. Brandon has taught fifth grade for 14 years and he gets to stay in that vocation while taking part in this four year long Masters program. In December, I will ordain Shayna Cranford and Kimberly to the priesthood two weeks apart from each other.

And I am discerning with 12 other people who are discerning calls to serve as Deacons and Priests. Among these are three people who feel called to be deacons and four others who feel called to the priesthood who will meet with the Commission on Ministry and Standing Committee during a retreat at Honey Creek in January. And there are three more people feeling called to be deacons and two others who feel called to be priests who are in earlier stages of discernment.

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

The Holy Spirit is active in the hearts and minds of parishioners of the Diocese of Georgia. This is as true for most of the parishioners of our congregations who will never be called to serve in Holy Orders, yet they do have God given gifts they are called to use in the work, at home, and at church. We have seen this in faithful wardens and treasurers and an ECW member in the convention videos. We have seen this in the persons who were given the Deacons’ Award, Deans’ Award, and Bishop’s Award. If we have eyes to see, the sparks of what the Spirit is kindling in our midst are all around. When we see those sparks for what they are, God making a way where there seemed to be no way, then the fire follows in our hearts and hope is awakened.

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

There are so many times throughout the year when I say to myself or exclaim aloud, “Now, God you are just showing off.” There are so many times when I see that the work that God is doing to kindle hearts and awaken hope is more than I could have asked for or imagined. I get to show up and see the fruit of that kindling in baptisms, confirmations, and receptions and in seeing people stepping forward in faith, trusting that God will show up.

So I know that if we spend some time not in making something happen, but in prayerfully discerning, the Spirit will use that faithfulness. This has been my message to search committees and vestries for 13 years of discernment work on calling a priest. I have told many of you that this work is first and foremost an act of prayer. The whole church can and should take part. We should pray expecting the Living God to guide us. I have named again and again that if we enter a call process and at the end we can say we made a good business decision, we will have worked so hard that we missed the Spirit’s presence in our midst. And so many times, we have reached the end of a search being able to name how we were surprised by what God did do, the ways the Holy Spirit did enter into the search.

Kindle our hearts and awaken hope.

If we want to return to the next convention with a strategic plan in place, we need to begin, continue, and end in prayerful discernment. First and foremost, the need is to pray and to wait. We need to ask God to reveal the next steps and we need to not take any action in absence of seeing God’s direction, or we will end up with something that is merely a smart move or a good business decision. God will be with us, but we will have missed God’s perfect will. If, instead, we pray, really pray, and expect the Holy Spirit to guide us, there will be ways in which we see the sparks of a fire we never dreamed of kindling. We will find a hope that is sure and certain. For the true missionary is God, the real work is being done by Jesus. We are given the grace to be on the team.

Amen.

Bishop’s Address for the 202nd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue’s Address to the 202nd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia
November 10, 2023
Church of the Good Shepherd, Episcopal Day School
Augusta, GA

 

Beloved in Christ,

I am so grateful to be together here in Augusta where our three founding congregations gathered 200 years ago for the first convention of the Diocese of Georgia. This year is the 290th that Anglicans have worshipped in Georgia, as a priest of the Church of England, the Rev. Dr. Henry Herbert, stepped ashore with the first colonists and led them in prayer. Those forbears entrusted to us a faith rooted in Jesus, growing out of the soil of the early church as the first followers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42).

At no time in the history of Christianity has living into that faith seemed easy or the next generation of followers been certain. But the Living God is faithful and the Church continues in spite of our efforts more than because of them. The Holy Spirit has kindled hearts and awakened hope again and again, in catacombs as well as in cathedrals. We gather today in that sure and certain hope that God has not brought us this far to leave us. If we, like the generations before us, do not trust in our own wisdom or strength, but lean on the everlasting arms of Jesus, we will see God showing up in our lives and in our communities in ways that give us the courage to step boldly forward in faith.

Since we last met in convention, Victoria and I have criss-crossed the Diocese, finding joy in being with the people of our congregations. I made visitations to 52 churches as well as our campus ministry at Georgia Southern and here to Episcopal Day School. These 54 visits are most of the 71 visitations that made up a full cycle of visits for the Diocese of Georgia since our last convention adjourned. The current pattern has me visiting everywhere at least once every 18 months.

Sadly, the number of visitations needed has decreased this year. The vestries of St. Michael and All Angels in Savannah and St. Richard of Chichester on Jekyll Island each voted to close their congregations. I should not have been caught off guard. All of the candidates for the 11th Bishop of Georgia knew that the coming decade would likely mean some churches deciding to close. That was not a surprise, yet I was not prepared for the loss I would feel as Chief Pastor. I was also not prepared for visits to congregations who had gone a year without the presence of a priest offering the Holy Eucharist. At Holy Spirit in Dawson and Holy Trinity in Blakely my visits came after months with no supply priest, their last Eucharists had been for funerals. Yet, the parishioners were grateful for the visit, having remained grounded in the Word even as they awaited the Sacrament. I find their faithfulness in gathering inspiring even as I look to meeting the challenge of providing priests for our parishes.

In convention last year, I talked of our entering a time of holy experimentation, trying old things anew, even as we try some new ideas. I named two initiatives we were undertaking that were largely paid for by grants from Trinity Episcopal Church on Wall Street. Trinity’s grants program was seeking to support efforts targeted for congregations with fewer than 70 people present on a typical Sunday. As the median Episcopal congregation is 35 in attendance on a Sunday across the church and 50 here in the Diocese of Georgia, these programs would assist most congregations.

We worked with our partners in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in North America’s Southeastern Synod on a ten-month long expert-led learning cohort with Episcopal priests and Lutheran pastors meeting together in what was called a Strategic Imagination Sandbox. Unfortunately, the feedback was consistently bad from those taking part. The weakest link had been what we hoped would be most helpful as we were sure that no matter the quality of the training, getting priests and pastors together to share candidly with one another would be worth the effort. But the leaders fulfilling the grants failed to facilitate those groups and despite trying to offer feedback along the way, this effort failed to deliver as we anticipated. Though this offering did not end up working out, we are so grateful to those who participated for their willingness to try something new with us.

We also worked on a second effort with the LeadersCARE program together with the Dioceses of Atlanta, West Tennessee, and East Tennessee. LeadersCARE is not a set plan, but a way of prayerfully discerning what is right for your congregation. This one did bear good fruit as the trainers from LeadersCARE came to Honey Creek for a retreat with lay leaders in congregations that are not served by a priest. As we hoped, offering people a time to step away and worship together, to learn alongside others, and to have time for reflecting on how to take this back to the congregation were all helpful. Just as we have seen with the Church Development Institute and Leading with Grace, it is always most helpful to bring together people facing similar issues in different parts of the Diocese. We are always stronger together and there is no substitute for getting with others face-to-face to reflect prayerfully on what God has been doing and then to act strategically based on how the Spirit is guiding you to take that next faithful step.

As always seems to be the case for me, I came to see what we need to do next by listening to leaders across the Diocese. In our Diocesan Council meetings this year, we continued as the convention in recess, taking up the challenge offered in our presenting to convention 2022 the reality the Diocese faces in the coming years.

All of our congregations are experiencing the impact of the loss of generations of parishioners who gave generously to their church. For some, this means fewer priests on a staff. For others, it means difficulty having a full-time priest or not currently having a priest who routinely serves the congregation. During the Diocesan Council meeting in March, we did a Question Burst exercise to discover the questions that get at the root issues. In four minutes, we generated twenty questions such as: Are we more concerned with parish self-interest and survival or Gospel mandate? What’s non-negotiable? What does church look like? and What do we prioritize?

The discussion that followed on that Saturday revealed how the pain points are different in varying contexts, but we are all in the same boat. I shared then how some changes are occurring as congregations find ways to thrive with lower levels of income and attendance. In Camden County, Christ Church in St. Marys and St. Mark’s in Woodbine each adjusted their worship times to be able to share a supply priest and later called the Rev. Michael Moore to serve the two congregations as Priest in Charge. Congregations that have generationally been multi-priest churches are also working with what this means for them. And as we just saw in a video, the shift from full-time to part-time clergy is not easy, requiring more from lay leaders and straining the faithful priests serving bi-vocationally.

What faithfulness looks like now is for clergy and vestries to look honestly at the trends in giving and how the passing of generations of generous givers is posing an ever increasing challenge. We would do well to look proactively at how this will come to impact us in the coming years rather than sitting by as if we do not know of the concern.

As your bishop I spend time in every church in the Diocese. From my vantage point, I can say that we do face serious threats to business as usual. The changes we face will be demanding. I also see there is no existential threat to our church. The threat is to the church we became in the boom years following the Second World War. Bishop Scott Benhase would tell churches that Ozzie and Harriett are not coming back. But I never saw that TV family even in re-runs. But I think his point was that faithful TV families like The Simpsons, for whom church is a regular part of life for most everyone in the fictional town of Springfield, are no longer the norm in the fallen world we serve.

And while I am concerned about the institution of the Church, I am far more concerned that people come to know that God loves them, that in Jesus we can not only discover that deep love, but we can also find the grace of repentance and the strength to forgive others and ourselves. There are so many people in Central and South Georgia who need to know and experience this connection with a loving God and will never be able to follow Jesus the way they feel called to if our Episcopal Churches are not present in their community. This is about the Gospel touching the hearts of people who need it desperately and don’t yet know the joy of what we have experienced in being part of the Body of Christ.

I saw this same concern for our witness to the Good News mirrored in those present for our Fall meeting of Diocesan Council and even more so in the Clergy Retreat that followed. I also saw how, while there is no one-size fits all solution other than faithfulness to the ways in which we perceive our Triune God leading us, there is room for us to plan together on a coherent strategy for moving forward together. It is time for us to work together on a strategic plan for the Diocese of Georgia.

This is not wholly new. I keep a notes file on my phone labeled Campaign Promises, that holds what I said I would do as Bishop when doing the Question and Answer session around the Diocese. I am open to changing or letting go of strategies that no longer fit as the situation on the ground changes and we learn more by experience. But I do hold myself accountable for what I named to you in the election process.

I said that the Diocese of Georgia could afford no big ideas as we needed to spend the first three years of the 11th Bishop’s episcopacy paying off the Honey Creek Bond Debt. Even as we did so, I said we would try a new way of forging our path together with Task Groups of Diocesan Council working on some discrete issues. Then with the debt cleared and new experience in working through committees to set strategies for change, we would create a strategic plan. Since May of 2020, we’ve made great progress including:

  • Passing a thorough review of the Constitution and Canons.
  • Assessing the effectiveness of the Church Development Institute and retooling it from the ground up as Leading with Grace and finding new ways to connect this training with the Diocese.
  • Mapping out, assessing, and making important changes to our Holy Order process.
  • Evaluating how our diocesan convention is working. We will be making changes to the schedule starting with the next convention, with a Friday afternoon start with the convention finishing a few hours later on Saturday.
  • Evaluating our Companion Diocese relationship and will consider a recommendation based on our Task Group’s review to continue our work with the Diocese of the Dominican Republic.
  • We also have two groups that will continue their work in the next year to consider the cottage we own in Saluda, North Carolina, and with a review how our assessment process is working and whether changes are needed based on experience with appeals to the assessment.

With that new experience of smaller groups doing the homework and reporting back to the Council, who charts a course, we are ready for the next step. We will begin work immediately on selecting the right process for our Diocese, using listening sessions with an outside facilitator with the Executive Committee of Diocesan Council assisting me as we chart the way forward to crafting a plan that represents fidelity to Jesus in this moment in our common life.

Before we embark on this, I need to confess how I view plans like this. As a church planter, I learned from those who had successfully established new churches that plans fail where a process can see you through. This happens if you let your plan become scripture and refuse to adapt as you learn more along the way. Yet, plans are essential as a way of deciding what we want to achieve together.

I want to share a critical time that I thought I knew what we were going to do and I was wrong. I arrived in Kingsland in 2000 to begin founding what would become King of Peace Church and Day School with a clear goal. Victoria, our daughter Griffin, and I wanted to start a church that would do so much good in the community that if we had to close our doors in a decade, people who had never attended the church would miss it and wish it had remained. We knew about this first hand from working with the Soup Kitchen at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Rome, Georgia, when I served on the vestry there. I could already see how a new church could serve the community.

The process for church planting had me chart the way forward by looking at the demographic data for Kingsland. Then I mapped out how to knock on doors and speak to 100 of my new neighbors using a plan that would have the houses where I spoke to someone would reflect the demographics of all of Kingsland. I asked the people I met what they wanted to see a new church do for the community.

Perhaps not surprising for a Navy Base community with 80% of residents then 39 or younger. Lots of people told me of the need to offer more for children and teens. I learned through this work of a pressing need for a full-day preschool for families with both parents working. I also saw that the small core group I was gathering had the skills needed to undertake the project. These conversations led to the creation of a full day preschool. I had arrived in Kingsland with a clear goal of making a difference in the community, and I was sure I knew what that would look like, but was surprised to be moved in a very different direction I had not seen until I took the time to listen.

I pledge to you that I will take the time to listen ever more in this coming year through a process that reveals our common goals. When we have a plan in place, we will know where we will head together, yet we will stay open to the Spirit’s ongoing guidance as we begin moving in that direction. In the process, I trust that we will be changed. I look forward to the journey of discovery and to the ways God will use the process of creating a strategic plan to reveal what faithfulness to Jesus looks like in this moment. As your chief priest and pastor, I find myself, as always, extremely grateful to be with you on this team.

Amen.

Sermon for the 202nd Convention Holy Eucharist

Dr. Lisa Kimball
Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church
Augusta, GA
Lessons – “For the Ministry II”
1 Samuel 3:1-10
Psalm 63:1-8
Ephesians 4:11-16
Matthew 9:35-38

 

Speak God, for this servant is listening.

A writer and theologian who had an enormous impact on my understanding of faith and on my growth as a Christian during my college years (and ever since) was Carl Frederick Buechner (1922-2022). Buechner, as he was fondly known by backyard readers, academics, and Pulitzer prize winners, had a gift for being utterly and authentically himself. Whether in his poetry, fiction, or theological writing Buechner always communicated his reverence for the mystery of God and his utter delight and humility at the enterprise of being fully human.

I will never forget Buechner’s definition of doubt:

“Whether your faith is that there is a God or that there is not a God, if you don’t have any doubts, you are either kidding yourself or asleep. Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.”

In a collection of essays and other writings The Clown in the Belfry: Writings on Faith and Fiction, Buechner published his Commencement address from Dartmouth. It is an unsuspectingly brilliant theological reflection on the Wizard of Oz.

In this meditation, Buechner asks the students to consider connections between the moral of the Wizard of Oz story and their own threshold moment: finishing a life-stage and beginning another, most probably with uncertainty, anxiety or even dread. 

He explained that in Oz, it is only a gold path on which one is safe. And the end of that path is an emerald city which we know, with the passage of time and from much literary criticism, the author Baum intended to represent as green cash/currency. There is a friend group, a motley crew of four vastly diverse people: Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion and the Scarecrow who set out to find the Wizard who, according to legend, could grant wishes.

They set out, trusting only in unproven stories (flimsy as they were. After all, no Wizard had ever stopped the power of the local wicked witch and her flying monkeys) and in promises that gold would lead them to the currency of power in the Emerald City. One can only guess that the Dartmouth students were already seeing the connection between Oz and the American Dream.

The dominant culture of Oz was too much in love with stories of powerful wizards to listen for experiences of true liberation and salvation.

The four reach Oz only to discover that the wizard is just a man. He cannot give the gifts that they seek at that moment, and he buys time to cover the lie of his reputation by sending them on an impossible mission to face the witch on their own. So, they take matters into their own hands and face the witch with no wizard power or presence. Ultimately, their own strength, their care for one another, their sacrificial love and sheer grit defeat the witch. And when they return to the wizard for a reward, they learn that he can do absolutely nothing for their deepest longings.

But he does finally come clean and explain the things that humans CAN do for one another. He gives them symbolic gifts so that the world will understand their inherent and God-given gifts. And the four heroes take pride in these symbols, as all of us do of diplomas, medals, collars, and certificates. They are signposts of sacred gifts and opportunities from God.

In this post-pandemic church, that was already shrinking in size and joy and imagination, we are in a strange land. We are in a decidedly post-christian America. Even more, the sociologists tell us what we see, which is that any voluntary associations with weekly attendance are collapsing. The Rotary Club, the Bowling league and the Bingo groups have the same shrinkage as the church. We are not in Kansas anymore.

And it is tempting to look for colorful lies and unproven stories. It is tempting both to seek human wizards and to pretend to be human wizards. Everyone wants the anxiety of church to ease and so we chase the posts, the people and the strategic plans that lay out gold paths to places of promised prosperity.

But the wizard was right about one thing: only God gives the gifts. The only power worth seeking in life is the resurrection power of the Triune God. In God, we find salvation for our souls AND paths along still waters of baptism to eternal life in this world.

We must face the witches of the world. But four is better than one in Oz, and community is the nature of the Body of Christ. When we go together, we come together as Jesus in the world.

We find this truth throughout today’s lessons – lessons identified in the BCP “For Ministry.”

Who knows how old Eli actually was when Samuel barged into his bedroom (three times no less) but we know he was a high priest and judge of Israel, a revered sage, an elder who had so many things he could have told Samuel – just as your diocesan staff could choose to “tell” you how to run your parish – but Eli understood that if instead he could teach Samuel how to listen to God it would be a source of formation forever.

And what is formation? According to Paul in his letter to the Ephesians, it is the process of building up the body of Christ until we all reach unity in the faith becoming mature – fully who God created us to be in Christ. It is a lifelong, life-wide, and life-deep process by which each of our bodies learns to receive the gifts God has given us so that we can be knit together in love for the sake of God’s mission.

And this theme echoes right up to the Gospel … it is God who gives the gift and God who holds the manual for the gifts and for the mission. Or in the language of our Convention theme, it is God who kindles our hearts and awakens our hope. 

This gospel is often read at ordinations and I find that odd. How it often gets read and preached is that there are not enough (read: ordained) laborers for all the work there is to do. But that is not my understanding of this text. It is instead a statement of fact. There will never be enough workers for the work to be done because the work to be done is, in fact, the work of the coming of the Kingdom of God and that cannot be accomplished by any number of human beings. That has already been and is being accomplished through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus began his ministry in the temple, reading the words of Isaiah from a scroll, that he was coming and had arrived to usher in the Kingdom of God.

We live in a world that is an Emerald City, an internet circus, a global marketplace with promises of a wizard who will help us with our deepest longings.

An anxious, post-Covid church too often marked by exhaustion, burnout, retirement, shrinkage, and grief situated in a world ravaged by greed, fear, and hatred has headed toward the Emerald City’s oppressive lie that we can buy our way out of this crisis or work harder to achieve the gifts we need. The clear message of today’s Gospel is that it is impossible for any number of laborers to do the work of bringing the Kingdom if they are not listening to their shepherd. Control and busyness are not marks of Christian maturity.

What IS possible is that we learn to depend on each other, to mean it when we say, “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.”

I find it befuddling when we interpret this Gospel account through a lens of scarcity in liturgies that should be – as all Eucharists are – celebrations of God’s abundance … there is always enough grace and there are always enough gifts in the community right now to do all that God has called us to do. We bore witness to that truth in the video testimony from the good people of St. George and St. Thomas this morning.

Having been one of the writers of the Way of Love curriculum, I remember the original vision of offering verbs that reflect the pattern of life of the early church, the rhythm of the catechumenate that prepared people for baptism. The vision of the Way of Love was not to give the Church a new set of ideas or plans, it was an attempt to call people back to ancient spiritual practices so that when we Turn, Learn, Pray, Worship, Bless, Go, and Rest we will become people whose lives ooze the love, mercy, and justice of Jesus Christ. There is no other way, no other wizard.

As Aslan said to Jill in The Silver Chair in the face of her crippling thirst, “there is no other stream.”

As baptized leaders in the Church you and I are called to build up the Body of Christ by preparing people to receive and use the gifts God wants to give. And that always happens in community – messy, strange, inconvenient, awkward as it can be – Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion, or the Fellowship of the Ring, The Three Musketeers, the Rebel Alliance. When we confront our fears and our adversaries honestly and together, we can discern the gifts God is already kindling among us, and our hope WILL be awakened.

“Speak God for your servants are listening.”

Evening Prayer Sermon for the 202nd Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

The Very Rev. Al Crumpton, IV                                        
Our Savior Episcopal Church
Dean, Augusta Convocation
Sermon – Year A – EDOG Convention Evening Prayer
November 9, 2023
Text: Luke 11:9-13, 1 Corinthians 12:4-14, & Psalm 139:1-9

When the weather is nice, one of the things I enjoy is grilling on the back patio of our home.  When cooking outside, I use lump charcoal, which means that the process of starting the fire is not immediate like with a gas grill.  Those of you who are familiar with lump charcoal know that it is not uniform in shape like manufactured briquets that are mostly the same size.  I sometimes think of this form of grilling as being similar to cooking over a campfire.  The lumps of charcoal, in a variety shapes and densities, must be stacked in such a way as to allow for air to flow through the heap.  After lighting the stack, I make sure the bottom and top vents are open to allow for the greatest amount of air to flow and feed the smoldering flame.  After about 15 to 20 minutes, I usually return to find the embers ablaze with fire and ready for whatever needs to be cooked.

As I thought about the theme for the 202nd Convention of the Diocese of Georgia which is “Kindle our hearts and awaken hope,”, the image of starting a fire for grilling came to mind.  The starting of the fire begins with my decision to take action in doing what needs to be done to get things in order for the initial flame to have the greatest chance of igniting.  One of the key components for this process to be successful is allowing for the right amount of air the pass through the flame that will cause it to grow and spread.  As air hits that small flame, kind of like the Holy Spirit hitting our souls, the result can be fantastic.  This image brought me back to our Collect of the Day that we will pray in a few minutes when we will call upon God to, “grant that by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit we may be enlightened and strengthened for service.” (BCP p. 151)

As we ponder these images, we might also be prompted to recall a familiar passage we hear at Pentecost.  Luke tells us in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles that, “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.  Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them.” (Acts 2:2-3)  I am aware that we are well past Pentecost Sunday for this year, but the last time I checked, the Holy Spirit DID NOT keep a calendar for when to show up and show off.  The question is, are we paying attention to the Spirit’s presence, that may not be literal fire and wind, but is definitely a presence that can burn brightly in our souls as the Spirit whirls in, with, and among us?

In order for the Spirit’s presence to be known, we must be open to allow the Spirit to move within us and remember that we have no control over how or when this movement may occur.  I remember being at Cursillo 113 at Honey Creek back in 2008.  It was time for us to make our way to the Chapel of Our Savior.  As we entered that sacred space, there was only candlelight and the consecrated elements of bread and wine on the altar.  Like it was yesterday, I can still recall bowing my head and feeling an overwhelming presence of the Holy Spirit.  It felt like a scene from Pentecost.  It was as if the unbridled Spirit was all throughout the room at once.  It was a powerful experience of God’s amazing presence that I shall not soon forget as it was exciting and intimidating since I had no control of what was happening.

In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we hear once again about the Holy Spirit in action.  Paul says, “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (1 Corinthians 12:8)  Notice that this passage says NOTHING about the recipients of the gifts picking and choosing what they want.  The fact remains, it is the Spirit who chooses the gifts that are best for us to use in serving our Lord.  According to Paul, “All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.” (1 Corinthians 12:11)  Not all of us will utter knowledge.  Not all of us will have exemplary faith.  Not all of us will have the gifts for healing, miracles, prophecy, and discernment which is exactly how a healthy body functions.  No one person or part has it all.  The unique gifts the Spirit bestows to each of us are intended to be used by us for the benefit of the greater community as we come together to offer our gifts in supporting each other as we engage in the work and mission of our Lord.  To sum up this fact, Paul concludes by stating, “Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many.” (1 Corinthians 12:14)

Thankfully, we don’t have to search very hard to discern the hope filled kindling presence of the Holy Spirit who is always eager and willing to be with us when we are ready.  This fact is noted when the Psalmist asks, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?”  The Psalmist continues by saying, “If I climb up to heaven, you are there; if I make the grave my bed, you are there also. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea…Even there your hand will lead me and your right hand hold me fast.” (Psalm 139:6-9)  Nowhere is out of reach for the Spirit.

In an article for Church Times, The Rev. Dr. Robert Davies Hughes offers a quote about the importance of the Holy Spirit from Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch, Ignatios IV, as translated by Metropolitan Kallistos Ware when he states, “Without the Spirit, God is far away, Christ belongs to the past, the Gospel is a dead letter, the Church is a mere organization; authority takes the form of domination, mission is turned into propaganda, worship is reduced to bare recollection, Christian action becomes the morality of a slave.

But in the Spirit God is near, the risen Christ is present with us here and now, the gospel is the power of life, the Church signifies Trinitarian communion, authority means liberating service, mission is an expression of Pentecost, the liturgy is making-present of both past and future, human action is divinized.”[1]

As we engage in the work of the Diocese of Georgia over the next couple of days, do we see our actions as being divinized by the Spirit of our Lord? Are we opening ourselves for Pentecost moments to happen at anytime and anywhere?  Are we loving each other and allowing that love to spill over into our words and actions for the benefit of others?

As we face challenges and seek new opportunities, I believe that with God’s help and our committed efforts our eyes can be opened to the Holy Spirit’s motivating presence. We can make the gospel the power of life!  We can share the Spirit with the world as our hearts are kindled and awakened to hope. Perhaps we can see ourselves as being like pieces of charcoal in various shapes and sizes waiting eagerly for the flame and wind of the Spirit to rush through and ignite us into a roaring blaze of faith and action.

[1] Robert Davies Hughes, “Nearer Now Than When We First Believed,” Church Times, March 11, 2016,  https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2016/11-march/features/features/nearer-now-than-when-we-first-believed, articled accessed 11-1-2023 and 11-2-2023

A Ministering Community

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A Ministering Community

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue gave this sermon at Trinity Episcopal Church in Cochran, Georgia on May 20, 2023.

A Ministering Community
A sermon for the ordination of Shayna Warren Cranford to the Sacred Order of Deacons
2 Corinthians 4:1-6

“It is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” In this verse from our reading from the 2nd Letter to the Christians in Corinth, the moment of creation as God called forth light in the darkness fuses with what the Holy Trinity does in baptism making all things new. If we continued reading the epistle it would make this plain in adding in the next chapter, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:17-18).

God is making all things new in Jesus and for those of us who are baptized Christians, we are each called to the ministry of reconciliation until all humanity is reconciled with God and one another. The grace, mercy, and love we have found in Jesus is for everyone. You have never met a single person who was not fearfully and wonderfully made in the image and likeness of God. You have not known anyone who God does not know fully and love completely, even as God wants better for each of us than the mess we can make of our lives. This is great and glorious Good News. And yet, we can still find that our friends and neighbors find this hard to believe as what they have encountered in church is something far less than Amazing Grace.

Given Shayna’s first experiences of church, it is a wonder we have arrived at this day. Growing up in the community of Cary, church is never far away. For Shayna, it was in her backyard at Mount Calvary Church. Shayna wanted to go to church and yet there in Sunday School she met that wonderful and sacred mystery – the Body of Christ, that is the church –embodied in mean little boys jumping off the table and trying to kick her.

The teacher passed out envelopes of all the “Christian” things you had done that week, such as whether you read your Sunday School lesson, brought your Bible to church, and placed money in the envelope. She had nothing to check, but the boys who kicked her had checked every box, and were on the chart showing perfect attendance, and they knew the answers to every question about Bible stories.

I am not bashing the Baptists here. We all know people who show up to church each Sunday with Bible (or Book of Common Prayer) in hand whose lives don’t seem to shine with the light of the glory of God. There is a reason why in a world that so needs to experience the love of God, people around us are sure the one place they won’t find the answers to our broken and hurting world is in a Christian church.

There are more twists and turns to Shayna’s journey to this day but suffice to say they included moments when the church assured her of judgment, without sharing the same assuredness of forgiveness and mercy offered in Jesus. God’s will sounded cruel, heartless…as mean as boys kicking you in Sunday School.

After meeting Dave at college, falling in love and marrying, the two tried to find a church home only to discover that they were miserable sinners as they had their feet metaphorically dangled over the flames of hell. While raising kids, they took a break from church. That is when Shayna’s old softball coach’s pleas to go to church with him broke through. Dale Jones persistent invitation finally reached the point where she could not keep turning him down. Shayna says of coming into this beautiful church, “I remember that first visit so well. Yes, we were a little overwhelmed with keeping up with the prayer book, and the kneeling and standing. But, [she added] we felt the love, the genuine spirit of the people, the closeness of God. I truly felt the spirit of Jesus.”

Within weeks, their kids were acolytes and as I have heard Dave say it on multiple occasions, “We have been Episcopalian our entire life and didn’t know it.”

They had arrived not in any Episcopal Church, but here at Trinity. The recent history of this church offers an important context for today’s ordination. Shayna is being raised up from Trinity to be first a deacon and then a priest in the midst of this same community. That is not the usual path for priests in the Episcopal Church, but it began with a bold experiment by Bishop Henry Louttit, who served as the Bishop of the Diocese of Georgia from 1995-2010. Bishop Louttit was very much involved directly in the process of Liturgical Renewal that gave us the 1979 Book of Common Prayer with its strong emphasis on baptism. His convention addresses and his preaching focused on evangelism and church growth, as he lifted up “the ministry of all the baptized” and “mutual ministry”.

Mutual Ministry was an approach he learned from the Diocese of Northern Michigan. In this way of being church, the congregation is not seen as a community headed by a minister, but a ministering community that encourages all baptized Christians to use their gifts both in the church and in the community. The worship of the church certainly matters, but the main focus of ministry is seen as daily life. Every baptized person is empowered by the Holy Spirit to serve where they are deployed in their family, with their group of friends, and among their co-workers as Christ’s agent in the world.

Bishop Louttit could immediately see how this could benefit Episcopalians in South Georgia. 27 years ago, he asked a delegation to travel to The UP – the Upper Penisula of Michigan, to learn more firsthand. That group of four included two Episcopal priests together with Joy Fisher, then a lay member of the diocesan Standing Committee, and Dr. John Pasto who were both from here at Trinity.

At the next diocesan convention, held in 1997, Bishop Louttit invited Bishop Thomas Ray of Northern Michigan to address the clergy and delegates to share this concept of a community of ministers. In his bishop’s address that year, Bishop Louttit said, “In many, if not all places, we have got to learn that the parish ministry cannot be done by paid staff.

We have to use the gifts of all our members, in both the nurturing and priestly ministry to the members of the congregation, and in the diaconal service of the congregation in Christ’s name to those in desperate need in our counties.”

The next year, he told the convention that Trinity in Cochran was ready to take the next step. In time, Joy Fisher, George Porter, and Vernon Wiggins would discern calls to the priesthood and be formed locally and ordained together. During their time of formation, Bishop Louttit told the 2001 convention, “Trinity Church, Cochran has shown amazing imagination, commitment, and a willingness to risk and try new ways of being the church in order for the church that is so valuable in their own lives to be healthy in their community.”

This church would still later raise up Shayna’s old softball coach, Dale Jones, for ordination during Bishop Scott Benhase’s episcopacy. Shayna arrives here on this day of her ordination to the Sacred Order of Deacons having come to know the Episcopal Church very well, but she has only been a member in a church where every priest she has known was lifted up by Trinity to serve this church. She is called to be a minister in this community of ministers.

What Shayna brings to her ministry is a deep knowledge of Bleckley County and a longing to share the love of God as found in Jesus. In her heart of hearts, she longs to feed the members of this church in word and sacrament so that each one can serve Christ through serving others with the gifts God has given them. She is called to be a priest in this place, rooted in the soil of this corner of the Vineyard that she knows so well. So, why then did I ask you earlier if it is your will that Shayna be ordained as a deacon, and you all said, “It is!” as if you don’t really want her to be ordained a priest, right now?

That is because serving as a deacon is the essential next step in her becoming a priest and we want that next step for her. This time of being a deacon in preparation for the priesthood is no less than six months. My intention, with the endorsement of the Commission on Ministry and the consent of the Standing Committee will be to ordain Shayna a priest in December.

We ordain her a deacon as the Church, in its wisdom, doesn’t trust anyone to be a priest who has not spent time living into serving others, particularly the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely. That is why centuries of practice among the many millions of Christians in not just our Anglican Communion, but also the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Lutheran and other churches ordain a priest in training as a deacon first. We don’t intend this to diminish the Sacred Order of Deacons, but to show how vitally important servant ministry is to every follower of Jesus in any Christian community.

The work of real deacons is the work of a lifetime. Shayna will serve as a deacon during this time of further preparation for the priesthood. This is not just in line with church tradition, but also with the example of our Lord. Our Gospel reading for this day recounts a dispute arising among Jesus’ disciples as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. Jesus reminded them that they are not to look to the example of the world. He said, “Rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves.” Then he brought this home in saying, “I am among you as one who serves.”

Yet here at Trinity with its history of Mutual Ministry, we all know in our bones that Shayna is not to serve others on behalf of or instead of us. Trinity is a ministering community encouraging all baptized Christians to use their gifts both here in the church and as importantly in the community. Every one of us is to care for all in need and that need is vast. Shayna has a particular role, but everyone shares the call to the ministry of reconciliation.

There are still kids growing up right here on the buckle of the Bible Belt hearing plenty of judgment who need to know that God knows them fully and loves them completely. There are plenty of adults beat up by the fear of God who need to rediscover the grace of God. For God is still bringing forth light in the darkness and calling us to speak love to hate. “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation.” When the baptized each make this ministry their own, nothing can stop God’s love.

Amen.

A Spouse’s Perspective on the Lambeth Conference

The Lambeth Conference—as an introvert, I both looked forward to and dreaded attending. From meeting with other spouses of Bishops (via Zoom instead of in-person because of Covid), I learned that we would be broken into small groups of 8-10 with other spouses from around the globe. Which meant, I was sure, that I would have to hear the simple phrase that accelerates the hearts of introverts: Let’s go around and introduce ourselves.

Because I am on the board for the Spouses Planning Group as their new tech person, I was asked to set up a WhatsApp group for spouses attending Lambeth, which turned out to be really helpful for a number of things from setting up a luncheon for what we termed the “mauve spouses”, the partners of gay and lesbian bishops who were uninvited to Lambeth (although four spouses did show up and were invited to tea by Caroline Welby, wife of the Archbishop of Canterbury) to tracking down a Bishop who had unintentionally left her vaccine card in an airport lounge at Heathrow.

Working with the app also helped me to acquaint myself with some of the spouses attending Lambeth. So, the first time I was asked to introduce myself, I was already familiar with a number of spouses. (photo of Caroline Welby)

The second time was when we began our spouses retreat and we were separated into small groups. “Table 26,” my badge read so I found my table and sat. At that point, there was only one other person at the table. By the time the retreat began, we’d been joined by two more spouses. We were the smallest small group at the Conference, which turned out to be a blessing for both me and Apollo, the husband of the first female Kenyan Bishop, who is also an introvert. Also in my group were Flora, the wife of a Bishop from Zimbabwe, and Steve, the husband of a Bishop in England. Interestingly, and we couldn’t discover another group that had a similar situation, Flora’s and Apollo’s spouses were in Frank’s small group.

Once the retreat was over, we fell into a more regular pattern for our remaining time at the Lambeth Conference. I found that what we did fit in well with the Five Marks of Mission, something talked about regularly around the Anglican Communion, though rarely in America.

Tell: To proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom
Each day, a Plenary session or two would be held in the largest venue (Venue 1) in which both bishops and spouses were invited to attend. There, speakers would talk about the subject for the Lambeth Call that day. This varied from Mission and Evangelism to Christian Unity.

Teach: To teach, baptize and nurture new believers.
Every morning, we would start the day with a Bible Exposition on the verses from I Peter that we were reading that day. This was for both bishops and spouses in Venue 1 and was usually led by Archbishop Justin Welby.

Tend: To respond to human need by loving service.
We would then break up into our small group Bible studies with the Bishops crossing the street to gather at the Parkwood Apartments in small groups and the spouses hurrying over to Venue 2 to gather at our round tables. Here we would look at the verses we had just heard about and speak to them in what became the favorite phrase at the Lambeth Conference: in my context. Because the gathered bishops and spouses were from more than 160 countries from around the world, the context for a spouse in South Sudan was different than the context for a spouse in Pakistan, which was different for a spouse in Malaysia, which was different from a spouse in America . . .

We were able to share within our small groups just how the verses from I Peter spoke to where we were from. We also heard testimonies from spouses around the Communion on everything from their personal relationships with God to the persecution they suffered for being Christian in a Muslim country. Each Bible Study ended with a different Diocese or Country entertaining us with Christian songs from their area in their language. Among those who sang were spouses from South Sudan, the DRC, and Ghana.

Transform: To seek to transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and to pursue peace and reconciliation.
While the bishops worked on these subjects in their Lambeth Calls sessions, spouses were offered a chance to attend what were called “Strengthening Sessions”. These were courses broken up into four sessions of three subjects: Personal Wholeness, Leadership, and Community Action.

As an introvert, I took that time to be alone and recharge my battery for the following day’s program. I did this with the knowledge that all sessions would be available to me online to “attend” once I returned home. In addition, on some days, bishops and spouses were given the time to attend panel discussions on everything from safe church to menstruation.

Treasure: To strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth.
This was the subject we learned about on the day that we were invited to Lambeth Palace in London. After walking an outdoor prayer path and enjoying the gardens and lunch, we gathered to attend a short service as a tree was planted as part of what is known as The Communion Forest. This is a global initiative that will include local activities of forest protection, tree growing, and eco-system restoration that is to be undertaken by provinces, dioceses, and individual churches across the Anglican Communion in order to safeguard creation. Our Creation Care Commission will be working with this initiative in the Diocese of Georgia.

This is just a taste of the many things we were able to do together as bishops and spouses of the Anglican Communion. It was an eye-opening experience as the more than 1,100 of us ate together in the dining halls of the University of Kent and worshipped together at Canterbury Cathedral, taking away memories that will last a lifetime.

Victoria
Victoria Steele Logue

We are not alone

The Seventh Sunday of Easter 
St. Thomas Isle of Hope, Savannah
May 29, 2022 

The Rev. Canon Loren Lasch 

  This past Thursday was Ascension Day, a very important day in the Church year. This principal feast, which is on par with Christmas and Easter, commemorates the day when Jesus completed his earthly ministry and ascended into heaven. It is a day of great joy, a day to celebrate the fact that our God, who lived among us, who died and rose again, has returned to a place of great glory and honor.  

Two readings on Ascension Day tell the story of Jesus’ ascension. In the account from Luke’s Gospel, we are told that Jesus led the disciples “out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.”  

In the account from the Acts of the Apostles, we are told “While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.’” 

Personally, I feel like the account from Acts is a bit more realistic, with the disciples gazing toward heaven, probably open mouthed with confused faces, watching their Lord and teacher and friend grow smaller and smaller until they could no longer see him. Obviously we know that they didn’t just stand in the place, forever, but I imagine it took them some time before they could unroot themselves from the spot and head out into the world, not quite knowing the way without THE Way to guide them. 

Jesus, of course, had told them this was going to happen. We just heard it in last week’s Gospel reading, which ended with him saying “And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.”  But, I wonder if they still didn’t see the Ascension coming. Maybe they just weren’t listening, or thought Jesus was speaking in metaphor when he said he was going to return to the Father. I think it’s more likely they were willfully trying to pretend it wasn’t going to happen. After all, they had already experienced a world without Jesus, and it had left them broken. 

I think that’s why the account of the Ascension from Acts feels more likely to me, because I can easily imagine them standing there that day, unable to move, feeling the weight of Holy Saturday enshrouding them once more as they watched Jesus leave them forever. Leaving them utterly bereft. 

That image of the disciples especially resonates with me this week, because that is how I have been feeling, as though I’ve been watching goodness and mercy and love slip away, ever since I first heard the news about the unbearably tragic killing of 19 children and 2 teachers at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. Utterly bereft.  

I’ve felt other things, too, of course. Overwhelming grief. Paralyzing fear. Pounding anger. Over and over again, in turn, as more details come to light. And I’ve found myself searching for Jesus, desperately, as I’ve prayed for these families and this community. As I’ve hugged my two elementary aged children as tightly as I can. As I’ve searched for the right words, or even any words, to say after such a horrifying moment in our shared lives.  

But, I will freely admit, I’ve felt like the disciples after the Ascension, like I’ve been gazing up into heaven in vain. Not because Christ isn’t there. Because of course he is. But at times it’s been almost impossible to glimpse him through the tears.  

As a preacher, I’ll often go back to previous sermons about certain readings or topics, to see which ideas still speak to me. And it’s always a delight to find words previously preached which could work again, reworked to fit a different context, at a different time. But it’s almost unbearable to know that I could have looked back and found a sermon for something so horrifying, preached after the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School almost a decade ago.  

I imagine I’ve not been alone this week. I imagine I’m not the only one who has wondered how, HOW to get through something like this…again, in the midst of all of the rest of the pain and sorrow in the world. I imagine I haven’t been the only one who has been, like the disciples, desperately trying to see Jesus.  

Here’s the thing about the disciples, though. Bereft though they likely were, they knew, on some level, that they weren’t really alone. For starters, they were in community. They were connected by their shared experiences as followers of Jesus, shared moments of sorrow and joy, shared yearning for continued communion with Christ. The bonds they had formed didn’t cease to exist in the face of uncertainty. They could lean on each other, look to each other for comfort and guidance as they together worked out what they would do next.  

But they also knew that they weren’t alone because Jesus promised that they would soon receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.  

“And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you for ever.” 

“But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” 

“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes to you”  

This may have seemed like a nebulous promise at the time, but it was a promise, and Jesus has shown them time and again that he was trustworthy and true. So they knew that the Spirit would be coming, help would be coming, power would be coming, to move alongside them and through them as they continued to spread the Good News of God in Christ throughout a pain and sorrow-filled world. To remind them that they were not alone, would never be alone, even in the midst of the darkest of times. 

And that gift of the Holy Spirit, the power of God, the promise of Christ, is with us. Always. Next Sunday is the Feast of Pentecost, when we celebrate that gift with great joy. But the Spirit is already here, will always be here, reminding us that we are not alone. In today’s Gospel reading we’ve gone back in time, and Jesus is praying to the Father, seated with his disciples at the Last Supper. He says: “Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” 

The Holy Spirit is among us to remind us that God’s love, Incarnate in Christ, remains with us. And not only that, but we are conduits of that love. The Holy Spirit is known as many things: the Advocate, the Helper, the Sustainer, the Comforter. The Spirit is present with us in all of those ways, and many more, and enables and empowers us to be present in those same ways in the world.   

That looks different at different times and for different people of course. The ways in which we advocate for and help others, the ways in which we sustain and comfort others, are unique to each of us, and our ability to do them may wax and wane. Some days we may be ready to take on all of the injustice in the world head-on. Some days we may be able to provide words of comfort and solace to someone who is utterly bereft. And some days we may only be able to offer a hand to someone as we search for Jesus together. But the power of the Holy Spirit, moving alongside us and through us, is ever-present. Even in the darkest of times, we are not alone.  

No matter what, we are never alone.  

The Paschal Homily of Saint John Chrysostom

,

Is there anyone here who is a devout lover of God? Let them enjoy this beautiful bright festival.
Is there anyone who is a grateful servant?
Let them rejoice and enter into the joy of their Lord!

Are there any now weary with fasting?
Let them now receive their wages!
If they have toiled from the first hour, let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour, let him with gratitude join in the Feast!

And he that arrived after the sixth hour,
let him not doubt; for he shall have sustained no loss. And if any have delayed until the ninth hour,
let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.

For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first. He gives rest to him who comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him who toiled from the first.
To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.

He accepts the work as he greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.

Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord! First and last alike receive your reward; rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!

You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!
Feast royally on it, the calf is a fatted one.
Let no one go away hungry; partake, all, of the cup of faith. Enjoy all the riches of His goodness!

Let no one grieve at his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.
Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again;
for forgiveness has risen from the grave.
Let no one fear death, for the death of our Savior has set us free. He has destroyed it by enduring it.

He destroyed Hades when he descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.
Isaiah foretold this when he said,
You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below.

Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with. It was in an uproar, because it was mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it was destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.

It is in an uproar because it is now made captive.
Hell took a body, and it discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see. O death, where is your sting?

O Hades, where is your victory?

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

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

To Him be glory and power forever and ever. Amen!

The Gift of Holy Saturday

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A reflection for Holy Saturday, April 16, 2022 by the Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue, Bishop of Georgia

Holy Saturday is a day easy to miss in the Church Year. Often the church building is bustling as the members of the altar and flower guilds replace the austerity of Good Friday, with the joy of Easter. And while that work is essential, it should not let us forget of the pain and tragedy of unimaginable loss experienced by the first followers of Jesus.  

 The women who traveled with Jesus and his disciples, some of whom assisted in financial support of his ministry had heard their cry out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” In his humanity, Jesus felt abandoned on the cross. Then on Holy Saturday, the disciples filtered back to the Upper Room in Jerusalem where they had celebrated that last Passover. There would have been the stunned certainty of Jesus’ death. They had known he was the Messiah.

I need to be honest and say that though Jesus words, “I will be with you always, even to the end of the age” are so very true, every Christian can and will face times when you feel the absence of God. This is not because God has abandoned you, but because so much is weighing you down, that you can’t, in that moment, feel God’s presence in quite the same way.  

I am reminded of the Anastasis, that great icon of Holy Saturday where Jesus has descended to the dead and is bringing Adam and Eve up from the grave. In iconography, the first two humans are buried there just East of Eden, which is also the foot of the cross. Christ’s glory is bound with his degradation in this place where worlds collide, the fallen and the redeemed. Jesus’ tomb will not be empty until Jesus empties Hell.   

Jesus’ burial clothes are neatly folded, never to be needed again, even as Adam and Eve’s tombs are smashed and the Old Testament figures stand in awe. Shackles lie broken as Jesus tramples death under his feet. His followers are still locked away in fear, the women are waiting until closer to dawn to go to the tomb.   

Holy Saturday offers the gift of hindsight, as we see how God was faithful when all seemed lost.  

We humans have yet to do anything in response to Jesus’ death on the cross and God is already making all things new. God’s love is not dependent on us. God is not waiting for us to act in human history to redeem us.  

 A Holy Saturday faith matters as we need to be able to hold on to the love of God as found in Jesus when life unravels. I know this from sitting at the bedside of those dying in Hospice Care or more painfully standing by parents in the Emergency Room as their child’s life slips away.  

 Knowing we are held in God’s presence in the shadows of life is vital in times when dawn seems far away. Holy Saturday also reveals how vital Christian community is in such trials of faith. The first followers of Jesus got one another through that uncertain time from the cross to the empty tomb. In the same way, when any of us goes through times of doubt and feelings of abandonment, we need others to hold us in prayer and to be with us, not offering pat answers, but loving presence. This too is a gift. When you get to be the person sitting with someone in their grief or loss, the Holy Spirit will be with you, which will give you more strength for when the loss is your own. 

Holy Week 1961 – Good Friday

A sermon by the Rt. Rev. Albert Rhett Stuart, Bishop of Georgia given at
Washington National Cathedral

At the heart of the Church’s life is the great sacrament of Holy Communion. At the climax of this act of worship is the Prayer of Consecration in which we are reminded that we are making an Offering to God “having in remembrance his blessed passion and precious death, His mighty resurrection and glorious ascension; rendering unto thee most hearty thanks for the innumerable benefits procured unto us by the same.” Benefits passion and death which took place on a Cross outside Jerusalem on a Friday. Benefits which make this Friday good.

In our time, we seem to place more emphasis on the Gospel of the Sermon on the Mount than on the Gospel of the Cross. It is the teaching of Christ – not his death – that is supposed to be of the most value to mankind.

On this Good Friday here in this great cathedral raised up to glorify Him, we will not think of Jesus as Teacher, Jesus as Example, Jesus as heroic Sufferer speaking to us moving words from the Cross. Rather we will reverently bow down before Him as the Saviour of the World who by His Cross and Precious Blood has redeemed us. We will have in remembrance His blessed passion and precious death rendering thanks for some of the innumerable benefits procured unto us by the same.

In the Gospel record of Jesus Christ practically a third of the narrative is occupied with His death. In most biographies, the achievements and teachings of a person are given greatest attention. It is what he did that matters, not how he died.

It is not so with the record of Jesus Christ. In the early Christian writings such as the Epistles and the Acts of the Apostles there is strangely little about the teaching of Christ while references to his death and its significance are on every page. Notice too these references sound no note of sorrow or regret. There is no suggestion of how much was lost to the world by the early death of Jesus of Nazareth. No New Testament writer ever says, “If Jesus had lived longer he would have transformed the world.” Instead, the writers glory in Christ’s death. They are sure he accomplished the work he came to do and that his death was an essential part of it. He came to save mankind and he accomplished that salvation by dying on the Cross. His dying words – “It is finished” mean It is accomplished.

From the outset the Church put Christ’s death in the forefront of the Gospel. It was the central point of the whole message. St. Paul summarized the Gospel when he said, “We preach Christ crucified.” Christians sing “In the Cross of Christ I glory.” By His death he won innumerable benefits for mankind chief of which are the forgiveness of sins, spiritual power, and eternal life.

This was the good tidings which Christian Missionaries carried all over the world. It was not Christ the sublime Teacher, but Christ the Crucified Saviour who by his death won for all men forgiveness, power, and life. Let us look at these benefits.

It is easy to misunderstand the phrase “forgiveness of sins.” It generally means to us getting out of consequences, being let off from penalty and obligation or the obliteration of the difference between right and wrong. It means much more than the remission of penalty and certainly isn’t the destruction of morals. This much more is the important part of forgiveness. It is the restoration of a broken or damaged relationship.

Forgiveness included the remission of a penalty which might have been inflicted. However, when there is a definite personal relationship forgiveness means much more than this. The deeper the relationship the smaller is the part of remission of penalty and the greater the part of restoration of relationship.

Here is a young man and his father –they are on the best possible terms—the son loves and admires the father—the father loves and trust his son. The son takes his inheritance and throws it away, breaks the relationship, brings disgrace on his family. The father could say, “It doesn’t matter. Forget about it. I am not going to penalize you in any way. You’ve learned your lesson. I’ll help you get straight, but of course, I can no longer think of you as I used to do—things cannot be the same between us.” Does this satisfy the son? Can he say “Father has forgiven me and all is well?” If he really loves his father, he will say—“What’s the use of all this?” I deserve any punishment I can get. I don’t want to be let off. What I want is that father should take me back and let me be to him what I was before. This is what happened in the famous parable of our Lord. The father went out to meet the boy and cried “This my son was dead and is alive, was lost and is found.” The boy was restored to his relationship.

Man was made for sonship with God. Sin makes that relationship impossible. Jesus Christ came to bring about the impossible. By His blessed passion and precious death He restored man to fellowship with God and makes possible forgiveness of sins. Our real prayer as sinners is not “let me off” but “forgive me,” “take me back.” The Cross of Jesus Christ brings to you and to me forgiveness of our sins and restoration to God. We participate in this deliverance and restoration through repentance, confession of sin, and baptism. God of his love accepts the sinner who accepts Christ in faith. This my Son was lost and is found.

Bishop Stuart also preached this sermon on 3/27/1964 at St. Matthew’s in Savannah, 3/27/1970 at St. John’s in Savannah, and on 4/9/1971 at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Augusta.

Cursillo Returns in April

We are back! Cursillo 127 will be held April 21 – 24 2022 at Honey Creek.  This is a wonderful opportunity to enter into a closer walk with Jesus and to meet new friends.   

Cursillo (“little” or “short” course in Spanish) has a long tradition going back to Spain in the 1930s. It started out as Catholic retreat and was adapted by the Episcopal church. 

Precautions have been taken to make this a safe gathering in the time of COVID. We are requiring vaccinations, testing (within 96 hours of event starting), and requiring masks indoors. Fans will also be running with window open when indoors.  

We look forward to seeing you there.  Remember Matthew 5: 14 “You are the light of the world”. Let us joint together in the spirit of Cursillo as we “be a friend, make a friend, and bring a friend to Christ”. Please check out the links below for more information and applications. 

 

Cursillo in Georgia

Staff and Participant Applications

Funeral plans for the Rt. Rev. Henry I. Louttit, Jr.

Bishop Logue and the Diocesan Staff have been working with the Louttit family on plans the funeral for the Ninth Bishop of Georgia, the Rt. Rev. Henry I. Louttit, Jr. 

The Office of the Burial of the Dead will take place on Wednesday, December 29, 2021 at 10:00 am at Christ Episcopal Church in Savannah. The service will also be livestreamed on the Diocesan Facebook Page. Clergy who attend the service in Savannah are asked to vest in cassock, surplice, and white stole.

On Thursday, December 30, 2021, there will be an outdoor Committal service at 1:00 pm at Christ Episcopal Church in Valdosta. Clergy who attend this service will not vest or process.

Offering two liturgies in two locations provides the opportunity for more people to to pay their respects to Bishop Louttit. All are welcome to attend either service.

Clergy who plan to attend at either service are asked to RSVP by clicking this link.

Good Shepherd School named 2022 ‘Places of Peril’ by the Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation

The Georgia Trust’s Places in Peril program seeks to identify and preserve historic sites threatened by demolition, neglect, lack of maintenance, inappropriate development or insensitive public policy.

The list raises awareness about Georgia’s significant historic, archaeological and cultural resources, including buildings, structures, districts, archaeological sites and cultural landscapes. Through this program, the Trust encourages owners and individuals, organizations and communities to employ preservation tools, partnerships and resources necessary to preserve and utilize selected historic properties in peril.

“This is the Trust’s seventeenth annual Places in Peril list,” said Mark C. McDonald, president and CEO of the Trust. “To date, 95% of past Places in Peril sites are still in existence. We hope the list will continue to bring preservation solutions to Georgia’s imperiled historic resources by highlighting ten representative sites.”

The idea to apply to be put on this list originated from Dave Cranford, member of Trinity in Cochran and on the Diocesan Council, “I had the pleasure of attending Evening Prayer at Good Shepherd and touring the school. I immediately felt a strong connection to the place and all that it represents. It’s truly sacred ground and the historic structures are worthy of documentation. I heard about the list, and thought it would be a good fit for Good Shepherd and passed that on to Dwala Nobles.”

Dwala, member of Good Shepherd and part of the vestry took the project and application process head on. “This is a seminal moment for us as a community and diocese. Now a Saint in the Episcopal Church, Anna Alexander could not have imagined 122 years ago in 1899 when she graduated from St. Paul’s Normal and Industrial School that her legacy would be sustained to the degree that we are witnessing today. With the assistance of her brothers, Anna built a little log church that also served as a school, later moved the building to its current site, and built a larger structure around the original. The church, made of Georgia pine logs stand strongly within the interior walls; however, the passage of time and lack of use have significantly compromised the building.”

Through Places in Peril, the Trust will encourage owners and individuals, organizations and communities to employ proven preservation tools, financial resources and partnerships in order to reuse, reinvest and revitalize historic properties that are in peril.

With the guidance of the Georgia Trust, Good Shepherd hopes to revitalize the school and offer it as a place not just for members of Good Shepherd to enjoy, but to provide a resource to the Pennick community. “Our commitment to the restoration of the schoolhouse represents our commitment to work as Anna did in the rebuilding of beloved community—in Pennick, Glynn County, the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia, and beyond. When completed, the restored building will serve as the diocesan educational center for racial justice and reconciliation. It will also serve as a food bank and community center. Good Shepherd Episcopal Church, Pennick, extend our gratitude to The Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation for their support and training. We appreciate Frank Logue, our Bishop, and look forward to his continued guidance. Ultimately, these partnerships will improve the lives of countless citizens—just as Saint Anna did as a teacher, deaconess, and community leader,” said Dwala.

Senior Warden and former student of Deaconess Anna Alexander, Walter Holmes, shared his gladness for the project, knowing that support from the Diocese in her lifetime. He said, “She [Anna] did a pretty good job with the resources available to her to build the school, including from folks as far away as France.” He added that, “The diocese didn’t help her until they saw what she was able to accomplish on her own. So, I think it’s good that they are now trying to help.”

If you have expertise in historic preservation, architecture, non-profit grant-writing, and/or capital campaigns for churches, and you are interested in donating time and passion to this project, please contact Dwala Nobles at dwalalnobles@gmail.com.

There will be a Facebook Live presentation with Mark C. McDonald, President and CEO of the Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation at 1:00pm. You can find the presentation on their Facebook Page here.

For more information about the 2022 list and the Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation, click here.

God Gave the Growth – Sermon for the 200th Convention Eucharist

The Rt. Rev. Frank Logue’s sermon for the Holy Eucharist of the 200th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia given on the grounds of Honey Creek to a congregation assembled in front of the chapel on Saturday, November 6, 2021.

God Gave the Growth
1 Corinthians 3:1-15

“I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.
So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything,
but only God who gives the growth.”
-I Corinthians 3:6-7

 

Planting seeds. Watering the tender shoots. Harvesting the crop.

Such logical, orderly steps.

These logical, orderly steps are nothing like leading a church out of a global pandemic.

Of course, in the first days of the pandemic, the steps were clear enough. We had a declaration of a public health emergency. We saw the videos from Italy with neighbors in their windows, singing across the narrow streets. We could watch famous musicians giving a concert from their living room. So we wiped down our groceries, washed our hands, and stayed home. Churches of all denominations shuttered the doors and logged into their Facebook pages and newly created Zoom accounts. Not ideal and yet we dealt with it. We did the best we could.

By the time the Delta Variant this year spiked, the steps were less clear.

Many were vaccinated. The youngest among us could not yet be. Some preferred to wait and so it was not as easy to discern the shape of our common life.

Life can offer clear next steps: A hurricane hits. The roof is damaged. We know what to do. We get tarps to secure the roof and call the insurance company. We check on our neighbors. We clear the debris. We move on.

Or maybe the problem is more personal. The biopsy is positive. The diagnosis is cancer. We still know what to do. We schedule the appointments. We get the surgery. We go through the courses of chemo and radiation. We take time to heal.

Then there are the rest of the times in life, too many situations to name. The problem is so big, the obstacles are unfamiliar, the path is unclear. This is more like what we face in the church now. Here is the church. Here is the steeple. When we open the doors, we discover less people than before the pandemic. More than last month, but half where we were last year. What now?

As I prayed about this evening and what word of grace God has for the Diocese of Georgia in its 200th convention, I recalled another time when I was leading a church and found myself facing a wall. In this case, the wall was literal, made of brick, and in need of removal.

In founding King of Peace in Kingsland, the issue of where to meet in Kingsland was the overwhelming challenge. Schools would not permit churches to worship in them on Sunday morning, which is the most common solution. The public spaces like the Rec Center, might allow a meeting, but no ongoing congregation could worship. The hotel meeting rooms were small, but could work, yet offered no way to have a nursery.

Five months into my call, we did identify a piece of property next to Camden County High School that would put us in a spot where everyone in the county knew the location and the road was sure to get more traffic over time. We bought a 3-bedroom, 2-bath house, and began to worship in the living room. My Dad was a Civil Engineer and he sketched out a plan for how to enclose the front porch, raise the floor in the garage, take out walls, and have space under that roof for 75 or so.

On March 26, 2001, we had a workday scheduled. The plans had been drawn and approved by the building inspector, who knew what we would do, which was most of it, and what professionals would do for us, which was mostly electrical. A man I knew in St. Marys had the expertise to guide the work that day. He supervised maintenance for a couple of apartment complexes and had a broad set of skills. The rest of us would be worker bees. That is until one parishioner and I showed up only to learn that an overnight emergency with an apartment meant the expert we were relying on would not be able to work with us at all that day. We had a schedule with new people arriving through the day to keep the work going. It had taken a lot to plan and prepare for. The parishioner there with me that morning worked on the USS JFK, an aircraft carrier out of Jacksonville. A great guy, he brought no more expertise than I did. We stared at the wall. I was thinking we would to reschedule, because we could not see our way to finishing what we planned for that day. Then the parishioner said the thing that changed the day, “We are going to have to get the wood paneling off this interior wall. I know how to do that.”

And so we began. We took the molding from around the windows and peeled off the paneling. Another parishioner arrived with his Middle Schooler son. He was a sergeant with the St. Marys Police Department. He suggested the next step, “We need to get the windows out. We all know what to do there.”

As the windows were coming out another parishioner showed up. He served on a ballistic missile submarine at Submarine Base Kings Bay, the main employer in Kingsland. And once again the new arrival brought the idea for the next step with him. He knew an electrician buddy who would help. Within a couple of hours, the wiring was up in the attic and capped off. Then we all took turns sledgehammering out the brick. When we worked toward the edge where it needed a smooth line, another parishioner arrived who drew a chalk line marking the cut. We needed to cut the brick, but no one wanted to be the one to make the cut. We hoped it would match the width of a 2×4 and so we didn’t have as much room for error as we wanted. The brick could split or crack. “Not me” was everyone’s response. 

Finally, it was clear that if it was going to fail, I needed to be the one to have done the deed. I put on goggles and made the cut through the brick. It didn’t split or crack. 

By sunset, every bit of work scheduled for the day was done. By that Sunday, the floor on the porch had been raised, and a wall and door installed. The work for the week was done. In time, we would find our way through the expansion project together. We could never see how to get it all done, but we always figured out the part we could do next.

Bishop Rob Wright of the Diocese of Atlanta, offered me a clarifying question this year. One he honed while taking a class in Inquiry-Driven Leadership at MIT’s Sloan School of Management. The professor challenged the executives in the program to craft a question appropriate for their business that would cut to the heart of the essentials for their work. Rob’s question became: What does fidelity to Jesus look like in this moment?

This centers everything I do, and I hope that we do on Jesus and holds up faithfulness as the standard. What does fidelity to Jesus look like at this moment?

Fidelity is a word used sparingly these days. The root, fides in Latin, is used commonly in Christianity for faith. In the Roman Empire which gave us the use of the word as we know it, it meant “reliability” and was essential of both parties in a relationship. Christians came to use Fides for faith as they saw that God was completely reliable and we owed that back to God. God was faithful and were to be faithful in response. So this question, “What does fidelity to Jesus look like at this moment?” Gets at the essence of a Christian response. I know that in this moment, whatever the moment is, God is living and true and so I know in my bones I can rely on God. Knowing that, what is the faithful response to God in this moment.

The same week, I learned that question from Bishop Wright, I found myself in an otherwise empty ICU waiting room. I had been in the room before and it is always full of family members. Not on that day with COVID restrictions. I met with a daughter whose siblings would arrive soon, needing to decide about removing a breathing tube for their Mom. She asked me what they should do. I said the question I had been working with seemed fitting, “What does fidelity to Jesus look like in this moment?” She said she did not know what answer she wanted to give, but in pausing, she was 100% certain what her Mom would say. The family gathered. They agreed. Fidelity to Jesus looked like removing extraordinary care that was extending her life with no chance of improving her health. The answer for that moment was to put their trust where their Mom taught them to place their hope, in Jesus.

In the Epistle reading, which gave us our convention theme of God Gave the Growth, the Apostle Paul is writing to the church in Corinth in the midst of a church fight. There is great dissension about how to be the Church. One particular issue is that one family is claiming priority as they were baptized by Paul himself while another family is claiming that at least Apollos baptized their whole household. Paul sees the issue that they lost focus on the main thing, all of us are equally beloved by God and all of us matter to the reign of God. He wrote, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.”

Then he added, “So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.”

The connection here is that we are not in charge of results when it comes to our congregations. We are tasked with faithfulness, which means in the midst of uncertainty, when we are not sure what to do, we just prayerfully discern the next faithful step.

As your bishop, I need you to know that I don’t have The Plan, The Solution, or least of all the one size fits all solution for the congregations of the Diocese of Georgia.

But that is just fine as we all have Jesus Christ—The Way, The Truth, and The Life.

 We don’t know exactly what to do to get to here’s the church and here’s the steeple, open the door and look at the people back in our pews.

But we do know Jesus, who “sent the Holy Spirit, his own first gift for those who believe, to complete his work in the world.”

 That same Spirit can assist us in determining the next faithful step. What does fidelity to Jesus look like in this moment?

 For all of us that next faithful step has meant gently letting those we worshipped with and haven’t seen know that we miss them. But for some churches in this moment, the next faithful step has been returning to Morning Prayer each week led by lay persons. For others, it has meant installing a camera system so no matter what happens next, we always have an option for those who are homebound. For some of our churches it has meant tending to the deferred maintenance on our buildings. For still other congregations, this moment has meant rebuilding time of formation or ways to engage anew with service to others in Jesus’ name.

 Fidelity to Jesus in a given moment looks less like a sure-fire plan and instead means discerning the next faithful step knowing that the Church is not ours, but God’s.

 God gives the growth is not about us working harder, there is no Gospel, no grace in that. God giving the growth, whatever new life will look like where we serve, is about our discerning the next faithful step, knowing that we do not walk alone. We have one another and we have the same spirit bearing witness with our spirits who guided Paul and the other apostles; the same Spirit who was with the early Christians in the catacombs and the coliseums when all seemed lost; and the same Spirit who will never leave or forsake Christ’s Body, the Church.

 God takes our next faithful step and blesses it and gives us the next step and the next and whatever growth looks like in our hearts, in our lives, in our churches, that is a gift from God.

 Amen.

 

Bishop’s Address to the 200th Convention

November 5, 2021 – Jekyll Island Convention Center

Beloved in Christ,

I am overjoyed to gather with so many of us in person for this convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia. Since being ordained as your bishop 1 year, 5 months, and 7 days ago, I have longed for just such a meeting, time to gather as a community to see one another face to face and not just our smiling eyes. This evening at Honey Creek, while we will mask for the Eucharist itself, we will also have time outdoors to be together. If this pandemic has taught us anything, it has underscored the need all of us have for community. We may need face time with others to varying degrees, but we all long to be with others and so I am so very pleased that while some are with us online, more than 200 of us are in person at the convention center and will be at our retreat center. 

My charge by the canons of our church is to share the state of the diocese with you in this address, including the work undertaken since our last convention and plans for the coming year.

Since we last met in convention online, we have had much to mourn. More lay leaders, deacons, and priests have died since our last convention than in any year of the past 20 in which I served as a priest. And our usual rituals of grief have been reduced or delayed so that Bishop Henry Louttit’s funeral in the last week of this year will fall just shy of year since he died. This evening, in our Holy Eucharist for this convention, we will name those who have died in this past year and pray for them and for all of us who grieve. You may add names to those we will remember this evening by adding them to the list on a table by registration.

It is our faith in Jesus Christ that has bound us together for 198 years and continues to draw us together even as the pandemic has made that difficult. And with the pressure of trying to return some normalcy while at the same time mitigating risk of spreading the SARS-COV-2 virus that causes COVID-19, tempers seem shorter and an angry response seems easier. Mask and vaccination mandates have sparked anger as have incidents of and debates over racial violence.

Yet we have an excellent example of finding unity in a divisive time with the interfaith clergy of Glynn County. The eyes of the nation are watching the trial of three men accused of killing Ahmaud Arbery, whose death recorded on video by one of the accused received national and international attention as Ahmaud’s killing was soon linked with the deaths of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. Protests around the country and the world followed as many called for a racial reckoning in response to ongoing anti-black violence, while others said Ahmaud’s death had nothing to do with his being black. In fact, the main issue we face in addressing racism in our midst is that we can’t even agree on what racism is when we see it.

Yet we do what we can to take the next step together. Through a grant from the Episcopal Church, the Diocese of Georgia contributed significantly to fund the work the clergy of Glynn County have done in the past year to come to speak with one voice as a non-anxious presence calling for peace and unity as the jury is empaneled and works toward a decision that reflects God’s justice. 

This is just part of our work, and I am grateful for Racial Justice Georgia, the group leading our racial healing ministries and I support them as we focus on Becoming Beloved Community as part of how we are the Body of Christ in our unique settings. Supported by the same grant from the Episcopal Church, the Rev. Guillermo Arboleda is also working on education and advocacy. He is particularly educating clergy and lay leaders in how to engage helpfully and constructively with law enforcement officers, on whom we depend, as they seek to serve while contending with policies that have too much of society’s woes on their plates.

I was raised sensitive to people naming anything as an issue of race, convinced people named a problem as racism too readily. I was defensive as I did not want to see me or my family as bad. Yet it doesn’t take an evil person to do an evil act. In time, I have seen the deep wisdom Maya Angelou expresses, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

Yet this is far from a new undertaking for our Diocese, and we are driven not by the media or a political agenda, but by our faith in Jesus. These current expressions of ongoing efforts continue the work Bishop Benhase began in racial healing, which itself continues in the same call Bishop Albert Rhett Stuart offered in the 1960s, as he helped this diocese navigate ending segregation. Our conviction is based in scripture. Genesis proclaims that every person on the planet was created in the image and likeness of God and our baptismal covenant commits us to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.”

This pandemic has stretched on longer than I imagined possible when on March 13, 2020, Bishop Scott Benhase suspended gathering in person for worship for the next 14 days in the congregations of the diocese. Spoiler alert: suspending in person gathering lasted longer than two weeks. 

Victoria and I did continue traveling around the Diocese to record worship, which we offered online through Pentecost Sunday this year. We ended up offering worship online from 58 congregations of the Diocese of Georgia having begun that work in Pentecost 2020. Victoria and I were the entire film crew, and toward the end of this period our typical pattern was  to record worship in two locations in the same day, then drop off the files with our Communications Manager Liz Williams, who assembled the final video, working with Canon Joshua Varner who oversaw the music for online worship, working with musicians, choirs, and singers, including a diocesan staff quartet, who beyond their work days for the Diocese offered their considerable gifts for singing. I am deeply grateful to Victoria who is the hardest working roadie in the Episcopal Church. She helps me stay grounded and closer to humble than I would be without her and she proved an ever patient partner when we were recording worship.

This past year has also offered windows of opportunity for in person worship and fellowship. As vaccinations permitted more in person worship and events, I have been pleased to see the creative ways you have found to be together. 

From Backyard Eucharists and Mass on the grass to liturgies under a tent on the church lawn and so many other creative ways of being together outdoors showed your faithfulness and creativity.

At the diocesan level: Canon Joshua Varner did an exemplary job at taking the window offered by the vaccine and then-falling cases of COVID to creatively put together three sessions of Family Camp at Honey Creek. He had all the elements we associate with camp from silly songs and games to craft time and meaningful worship. Then in September, 55 deacons and priests gathered at Honey Creek for a clergy conference with the usual means of mitigating risk provided a chance to be with each other and to experience yet again the close bonds we share. 

The work of this Diocese is primarily the worship, prayer, and work of our congregations, and as your bishop, my staff and I primarily spend our days supporting our churches. Canon Katie Easterlin has been on the road this year to assist in some unusual situations where her expertise was vital to handling a congregation’s finances. Canon Loren Lasch has been all around our territory for many in person meetings with vestries and search committees.

In speaking to the State of the Diocese, we know that the ways we worship and serve Jesus are mostly through our 69 congregations. And while we are doing better than we feared we might when sheltering in place began, no church in the Diocese is back to typical attendance. Two thirds of our congregations report that their income is better, about the same, or only slightly less than in previous years, but that means a third of us have been hit harder. We are doing pretty well, but as the Body of Christ, when any are hurting, it affects us all. 

As your Bishop, my staff and I used the tools available to us to assist those congregations on the edge. The Church Pension Group allowed us to put forward a small number of clergy whose congregations would not have to pay pension assessments for up to four months while still accruing full benefits, and Canon Easterlin and I applied for and got that relief. When a $40,000 grant to diocesan operations from the Episcopal Church that went out to each diocese arrived, we saw that the money was not needed to balance our diocesan budget. Instead, we created a pandemic grant process and assisted 20 congregations with some smaller needs. Diocesan Council also approved new appeals to the Diocesan assessment in addition to previous multi-year appeals. These are typically granted to congregations experiencing significant drops in income, sometimes due to unexpected expenses caused by an issue with a building.

Even with the constraints of the pandemic, we have begun much of the work I pledged to address in the meetings leading up to my election as your bishop. While things have been going well, we know the routine review is needed to keep us on track. I worked with Diocesan Council to create Task Groups to thoroughly review our Canons and to take an end-to-end look at our process of discerning a call to ordination. The first of those groups have already been presented to convention, and the second is resulting in significant changes to improve our discernment process and how we prepare people for ordination. Everything is on the table in this work and the Task Group is doing the prayerful consideration we need to get this right. I have also appointed the Rev. Jim Said to chair a third Task Group in order to take a fresh look at our companion diocese relationship. We have benefitted so much from our work first in Guyana and then Belize and in recent years with the Diocese of the Dominican Republic. I know that discerning anew, even if it results in staying with the same companion, will assist us in that effort. I will also be naming a Commission on Worship, as found in our canons, both current and proposed. Putting the right people together to serve on our behalf, we are seeking to improve our diocesan ministries.

Recently, I ran across an indicator showing how far we have come in the Diocese of Georgia. As we will at this convention look at significant canonical revision, I was asked about when this had been done previously. Recalling work in the late 1960s, I went to convention journals and found what I was looking for and, in the process, a description of the Diocese of Georgia when few if any here saw us as a community or family. In 1968, the 146th Annual Convention met at St. Paul’s Church in Albany, Georgia. That meeting received a report from a 2-year long study of the Diocese of Georgia, which stated:

        “We are operating on the principle of a loose (very loose, much of the time) confederation of some 23                  separate, independent ‘parish’ congregations, plus 39 separate ‘mission’ congregations, dependent on the          Bishop. There is little or no sense of ‘kinship,’ of belonging to one another, much less to a wider                            fellowship. Cooperation between parishes, or between parishes and missions, even in the population                  centers, is almost nonexistent.”

I was astounded by this statement. I know that many who attend our churches are unfamiliar with the details of the Diocese in which they are grafted into The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. Yet, I do see how all of our deacons and priests and our most involved lay leaders experience a sense of community with mutual respect that I find to be a real strength for us.

I look back to the convention in 2018 and see such a profound difference in our diocese 50 years after that report. At that 2018 meeting, we considered how best to deal with the debt owed on non-secured bonds issued in 2011 to restructure $1.25 million of debt associated with the operation of Honey Creek. We were just short of unanimous and had a very strong consensus that we would all take on an additional 2% of assessment for not more than three years to clear that debt that had predated Bishop Benhase. Despite being in pandemic, we passed the halfway point of that plan at the end of the second quarter this year and we in fact had half of the funds in hand, just as planned. We are on track to eliminate that long-standing debt, because we worked together as a Diocese rather than as disconnected congregations. 

Some present will have missed those earlier debates, so I will provide context. The unsecured debt was not a debt of Honey Creek alone but a debt owed by the Diocese because our Retreat Center is not a separate entity. That debt, however we looked at it, was against the operations of the Diocese. And in issuing bonds to restructure that debt, our responsibility to honor that commitment was absolute.

A note of caution is in order. The first half of our bond debt was a little easier to raise, as we had generous givers who were in a position to forgive their bonds, and we had built up some reserves toward the debt. Yet the end is in sight for this plan. 

​​This week, Canon Katie Easterlin and our Assistant Administrator, Daniel Garrick, sent checks to every bondholder paying off the bonds in full. To do this, the Finance Committee approved a short-term loan that will be paid off as the additional 2% assessment continues to come in through the end of 2022. If every congregation could pay their assessment in full, the plan we approved in 2018 would work. But some of our churches are struggling and have appeals on their assessments that are approved by Diocesan Council. This is why, starting with my first day as Bishop, I worked with the Finance Committee and Diocesan Council to adjust the diocesan budget so that the Diocese as a whole also contributes 2% of its budget to the debt. This has us closer to our goal. If we all stay the course, we can and will fully eliminate all debt on our Retreat Center by the end of next year. But no matter what, the special 2% assessment will end after the coming budget year, and we will go back to 10% as the full assessment. If some small debt remains, we will pay it off through the diocesan budget, thanks to your faithfulness.

Faithfulness is the key. This evening, in my sermon for the Holy Eucharist on the grounds at Honey Creek, I will pick up this thought and speak to how I see God is leading us in our next step of faithfulness.

For now, I want to offer a refrain that I often used in private responses to someone as Canon to the Ordinary for the previous decade. In being thanked for something I had done or the Diocese had done, I would say truthfully, “I am just glad to be on the team.” Now as your bishop, I am so very grateful for a Diocese where I have seen so many ways you are using the considerable gifts you have been given to serve the needs of your congregations and communities, and in this call, while I am your chief priest and pastor, I find myself still just glad to be on this team.

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue
Bishop of Georgia

Evening Prayer Sermon for the 200th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

A Sermon by the Very Rev. Tom Purdy of Christ Church Frederica on St. Simons Island for the Evening Prayer service of the 200th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia on
Thursday, November 4, 2021

The Feast Day of Richard Hooker, Transferred
November 4, 2021
The Episcopal Diocese of Georgia Convention Evening Prayer
St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Brunswick, GA
The Very Rev. Tom Purdy

 
So, I’m sitting at the coffee shop working on my sermon for tonight, and the guy next to me says, “What are you working on?”

I said, “I’m writing a sermon about Hooker.”

He gave me a funny look, furrowing his brow, before he said, “Oh! TJ Hooker – I used to like that show – 80’s, right?  William Shatner is a great guy!” 

I laughed and said “Agreed – Shatner is great, but no, not that Hooker.”

“Oh, Ok,” he said, cutting me off, “I guess I remember that story in the Bible of Jesus and not casting stones at the woman.”

“I think that was a story about adultery,” I admitted. “Different kind of Hooker.  This one is the Protestant.”

He said, “I don’t care what you call it, that’s a strange thing to preach about.  What kind of church is this, anyway?”

I said, “I’m an Episcopalian, but I think you misunderstand me I’m talking about Richard Hooker.” 

He thought for a moment and said, “Richer, huh?  Well, I always knew you Episcopalians were top shelf.” 

I said, “Let me try to explain again, I’m not expressing myself well.”  

And he said, “No, no need to buy me an espresso – I’ve already had my coffee.” 

And that was the end of it. It was like we were speaking a different language…or maybe he just didn’t hear me very well.

But you all know who Richard Hooker is, right? He’s inspired countless philosophers and theologians; he inspired ZZ Top to grow their famous beards.  Ok, not really, and he doesn’t look anything like William Shatner, but the guy did have style.  He’s one of the Anglican theologians that most Episcopalians know about, even if they think he’s a furniture maker because when we learned about him, we learned about his three-legged stool.  We’ll come back to that.

When they gave me the option to choose the readings for tonight as preacher, as I thought about transferring the feast of Richard Hooker, I realized he is perfect for this occasion.  I mean, how can you not celebrate Richard Hooker at a convention in which we are taking up a major revision to our constitution and canons?  Polity is his thing. I actually looked to see if there were any Richard Hooker bobble heads as patron saint gifts for our Constitution and Canons Committee, but shockingly, I couldn’t find any. 

I think we need Richard Hooker right now.  We need a Richard Hooker moment in the Church, and a Richard Hooker moment in this nation.  Some of you are probably thinking, “What does an old, white, English dude from the 16th Century possibly have to offer us here in Georgia in the 21st Century?”  Well, think of it this way; in Hooker’s day his country was being torn asunder by politics, a back and forth that very much pulled churchgoers and clergy into the fray for generations.  He was born under the Catholic rule of Mary the First, five years after the first Book of Common Prayer was published, but grew up under Elizabeth the First, who championed moderate Protestantism. 

Today, if someone comes to me and demands that I use a particular liturgy or prayer book, I’m tempted to ask, “You and what army?”  In Hooker’s England, that might not have been the question to ask!  The army could be just outside the door, ready to enforce use of the prayer book.  Politics and religion were incredibly intertwined so that it became hard to separate what was political from what was theological and what was both.  Were they going to be Catholic or Protestant?  Papal or independent authority?

The shores of institutional trust were shifting sand.  That sand was eroded by waves of infighting and controversy, polarization, and extremism, which were tearing things apart from within. This is the world in which Hooker trained as a priest and theologian. 

Richard Hooker is credited with being able to step back and get the big picture to sift through how institutions could faithfully serve God and God’s people again.  His seminal work was the eight volumes of The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, although the last three volumes were published after his death and may or may not have been completely his.  Regardless, while he was a defender of the authority of the monarchy, his mastery came in articulating how to live in the center of the extremes between the papacy and puritanism. 

He was concerned about civil and spiritual structures.  His writing articulated the elements we know today in shorthand as scripture, tradition, and reason, which make up the legs on that stool we talked about earlier. The proverbial stool the Anglican Church sits on to chart its course using the bible, the traditions of the Church before us, and the brains God gave us.  Richard Hooker never really built the stool we credit him with, not in so many words.  But he left the parts lying around the theological woodshop.   Those who came after him pulled it all together into the teaching we have today.

Like the Caroline Divines in the next century, who took his work and were able to articulate the Via Media – the Middle Way between Catholicism and Protestantism – not as a compromise born out of weakness, but as an intentional and admittedly uncomfortable place from which to bear witness to the breadth of God’s revelation through the Church – even though the Church is so fragile and fallible.  He knew institutions would be good or bad, strong or weak, depending on the season, but the faith and piety – the hearts of the people who made them up mattered most.  If the people are oriented properly towards God, institutions would reflect that reality.

Hooker also knew how hard this work was during times of change and upheaval.  He took what became the original classical Anglican stance of treasuring the medieval Church’s witness and practices while also recognizing a need to embrace change coming out of the Reformation.  It is the grounding in the foundations of the past, he would say, that allows change and newness to be possible without the whole thing collapsing. 

The Church can do a new thing without everything being new.

Friends, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in a period of upheaval and stress; some say it goes in roughly 500-year cycles[i], and you and I are fortunate to be living through one now(!).  Our institutions have been decimated in so many ways, including the Church.  We face an increasing pandemic of political polarization, and we haven’t done a good job of flattening the curve yet.  The physical pandemic has accelerated many of these challenges, as I am reminded by looking out at a congregation wearing masks.  We can’t pretend that the Church lives in one world and politics in another much longer.  I’m not saying we should all become politically active, or that the Church should take political sides.  On the contrary.  We need to figure out how the Church – the Body of Christ – can regain its voice in a way that effectively shapes the world around us – shapes it in ways it so desperately needs as we bring the kingdom to bear on earth as it is in heaven.

Hooker noted that in the fight for reformation and change people and their institutions were drifting farther and farther apart, which leads to “strife, jealousy, discord, and bad blood.”[ii]  Sound familiar?  He agreed with St. Augustine and so many others[iii], who caution us against forming our institutions around what we’re against, and not what we’re for.  He saw it on display in what he would call the excesses of the reform movement that, in places, staked out its position around opposition to what was before.    

We need, as the theologians might say, a common object of love, not hatred, not fear – love.  But listen and hear: our common life is being defined by fear and hatred, some would say contempt for one another[iv].  We’re often afraid of a changing world, or of people who are different than we are, and we lash out by diminishing one another and failing to honor the dignity of every human being.  We’re being pulled apart at a time we so desperately need to be coming together.  Political polarization is driving so completely through our society, it’s even taking up residence in our churches. 

A recent article in The Atlantic describes the effect of politics on the Evangelical church, highlighting what happens when this unity around opposition takes root inside the Christian faith – when the faith is shaped by fear and contempt instead of metabolizing and transforming it with the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  One pastor admitted how common it is for congregants to leave their church because of their politics but has never heard of someone changing their politics because it didn’t match their church’s teaching[v].  I’m with him on that one. 

And we know how that happens, right?  The article describes the tough spot pastors are in to be faithful but not offend; a tightrope walk many of us in this room and many of my ecumenical colleagues know well.  It’s not that every church is suddenly becoming more partisan as we preach the gospel.  It’s no coincidence that Episcopal Churches, often seen as progressive, are seeing the exact same trends as Evangelical churches, which are often seen as conservative.  Our society has become hyper partisan, which makes the Gospel seem to be political or even partisan, whether we intend it to be or not, whether we’re progressive or conservative, protestant, catholic, evangelical, or any other kind label we use. 

We don’t get to control that narrative, unfortunately.   One of the best lines from The Atlantic article explains, “Sermons are short.  Only some churchgoers attend adult-education classes, and even fewer attend bible study and small groups.  Cable news, however, is always on.”[vi]  Sermons are short (this one may not be), but there’s cable news 24/7, and I would add social media to that description, with its magnifying algorithms.

Y’all, we don’t need algorithms.  What we need are rhythms of prayer and repentance, word and sacrament. This was Hooker’s strategy.  Focus on the hearts of the people, the piety of those who make up the institutions.  We don’t need Hooker’s monarch though; we have one.  And we need to look to him instead of all the usurpers who clamor and shout about their earthly plans for salvation.  We have the plan – we have The Way, we just need to follow it.  And him. The political intrusion into the Church is an onslaught that seeks to confine and intimidate us about how we proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and we need to push back by living out the politics of love and preaching that Gospel in word and deed.

If this were a Eucharistic service, we’d be hearing the preface for baptism tonight, in which the presider prays for God to make us all citizens of God’s kingdom.  Again, we hear that civic cross-over.  We know about being citizens of this world and what it entails; we engage with that citizenship easily and all too frequently.  What about the citizenship of God’s kingdom?  What about living into those baptismal vows many of us will recite on this All Saints Sunday? We need to heed Paul’s warning to the Corinthians about “the wisdom and rulers of this age” and instead set ourselves firmly on God’s wisdom.  

Those who came before us, who have labored in God’s workshop have worked the lathe, cut, and measured, and assembled much of our theological furniture.  They may not have built precisely what we need for these days in this century, but they have left us the parts to work with, and Hooker is a good place to start; after all he taught us how to assemble and build with such things.  As he would say, we can meet these days without fear because we have a tradition to rest on and build up from. 

We must be careful not to be so afraid of change, so afraid that we’ll abandon who we are, that we give in to the pathological fear that hastens our demise[vii], even as we pride ourselves on being a top-shelf tradition for the faithful few – those smart enough to “get it”.  The Church can do a new thing without everything being new. We can keep continuity with the past and embrace the future.  We must.  We must pull from the breadth of tradition and scripture – there is no end to the tools we have at our disposal to shape ourselves and the world around us and to assemble the Kingdom we’re called to inherit. 

We need not be a people of fear, or hatred, or contempt.  We have the luxury of an abundance of love, a love which drives out all the rest of it[viii].  We must reclaim the via media, the middle way between the various polarizing and competing forces that seek to divide and destroy.  This middle way is not a hiding place, nor is it an easy place, and it won’t make everyone happy.  In fact, it’s more like to make people quite unhappy because they won’t find cover for the wisdom of this age to grow in their hearts unchallenged. But you know what?  This was never supposed to be easy.

The Episcopal Via Media is our place of strength from which to unleash the power of God’s love.  We don’t have a Richard Hooker.  We don’t really need him.  Because we actually have thousands of them, including the hundreds gathered here tonight.  The world now, or 500 years from now, may not understand these Episcopalians who gathered in 2021 speaking some foreign language, this language of love, but I hope no matter what they say about us, they won’t be able to say they didn’t hear us.

 

[ix] Final Notes from the Preacher

[i] The Rt. Rev. Mark Dyer is the original source of this, although Phillis Tickle popularized it.

[ii] The Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity in Modern English, Davenant Press 2019, p.5.

[iii] This is articulated by Brad Littlejohn at the Davenant Institute in his article, “In Defense of Discrimination: Why Richard Hooker Still Matters, posted March 22, 2019. It is also articulated in Arthur Brooks’ book, Love Your Enemies: How Decent People Can Save America From The Culture of Contempt, Broadside Books, 2019.

[iv] One of Arthur Brooks’ theses in Love Your Enemies is about the culture of contempt.  He also shares the common theme around the Church’s need to be based on love, something we also hear a lot about from our Presiding Bishop.

[v] “The Evangelical Church is Breaking Apart”, Peter Wehner, The Atlantic, October 2021.

[vi]“ The Evangelical Church is Breaking Apart”.

[vii] Again, brought out by “In Defense of Discrimination.”

[viii] 1 John 4:18

[ix] Mr. Littlejohn’s and Mr. Brooks’ thoughts helped me to shape the arc of this sermon overall, in putting this moment in perspective and helping me see how Richard Hooker fits into it. 

A letter from Bishop Logue ahead of jury selection in State of Georgia v. Travis McMichael, Greg McMichael, and William R. Bryan

To the Diocese of Georgia Community,

I write to ask your prayers for the people of Brunswick and Glynn County as the murder trial in the case of the slaying of Ahmaud Arbery will start October 18. Following video evidence coming to light, clergy representing all six Episcopal congregations in Glynn County,  were part of a joint statement issued by a 29-member group of clergy in the area asking for action. “We join together with one voice to demand that justice be done, justice that is impartial and swift.”

Watching the video was unspeakably hard. I lament that persons of color remain at greater risk than I will ever know. I cannot imagine being a parent, relative, or friend having to see Ahmaud’s death. But without the video, we would not have arrived at this trial where the evidence will have its days in court. 

I have made prayers for Ahmaud Arbery’s family and prayers for the accused killers and their families part of my daily prayers. I ask you to join me in prayer as the case comes to trial, for wisdom for the judge and jury charged with the sacred task of weighing out earthly justice. I offer this prayer for the trial:

Almighty God, whose justice alone is eternal, be present with the judge and jurors charged with bringing earthly justice in the death of Ahmaud Arbery. Give them the insight, understanding, and wisdom that come from you alone as they discern the truth and impartially administer the law. Be with the Arbery family, with the accused and their families, and all in the Brunswick and Glynn County Community. Give them your peace as they watch, listen, wait, and hope for a decision that reflects your judgment and your justice. And give us all the grace to hunger and thirst for your righteousness that we may work together to become the Beloved Community where all may know a world without suspicion, in which the only fear is fear of You, in whose image and likeness all humanity is made. This we ask for the sake of your Son our Savior, Jesus Christ, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns now and forever. Amen.

A verdict in this trial cannot bring about the Beloved Community where divisions have ceased and dignity and abundant life are enjoyed by all people who see themselves and others as beloved children of God. I am grateful to the clergy of Glynn County, Christian and Jewish alike, of many denominations, who used this tragedy to begin anew on working together toward justice. As we join them in prayer, may we join them in a witness against the sin of racism. No matter the outcome of the trial, the work of repentance and amendment of life also means doing the work to continue to grow as reconcilers, justice-makers, and healers in the name of Christ.

In Christ,
+Frank

Grace for all the feral cats

Bishop Frank Logue preached this sermon at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Thomasville, Georgia on June 26, 2021.

Grace for all the feral cats
A sermon for the ordination of Susan Gage to the Sacred Order of Deacons
Acts 6:2-7

“In the name of Jesus Christ, you are to serve all people, particularly the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely.”

I will say these words to Susan during The Examination in just a few minutes. The words I want to stay instead are, “In the name of Jesus Christ, you are to serve all people, particularly the feral cats that need to find their true home.”

I use this term advisedly and knowingly as I am one who has been tamed by an actual feral cat who found her way into my home. That was real. No metaphor yet. And then I spoke to Susan about how she found her way to this day. Susan affectionately told me of how the Rev. Lee Shafer referred to her as the feral cat that came into the church.

This is not to say that Susan was a stranger to church. Not by a long shot. She was baptized at Christ Episcopal Church in Exeter, New Hampshire about two months after her birth. She stood up for her place in the church at an early age too when the Rector did not understand her wanting to be a shepherd instead of an angel as boys were shepherds and girls were angels. But she was a budding thespian and Susan knew Shepherds get to play fear, which is a way better role. She did prevail and soon after began to acolyte and in a few years was confirmed.

Yet the 18 months that followed Susan’s confirmation were a very difficult time with the tragic deaths of two friends and an aunt and her discovering her sexuality in a time and place where it was not okay. Susan continued to attend church in college and afterward moved to Tallahassee, where she was attracted to St. John’s Episcopal Church and loved a lot about it, but no one spoke to her, invited her to coffee hour, or tried to find out who she was. She did not keep attending. During those years, her work for Florida Public Radio took a turn when she served as a media witness to an execution and she covered capital punishment for years after. And in those years that followed St. John’s Church rejected the LGBTQ community in a quite public way with the clergy walking out of the church during a major principal service. The church of her childhood had come to offer her judgment, not love.

By the time years later, Susan made her way back to St. John’s, much had changed in the church and in Susan. The Rev. Lee Shafer, who served at St. John’s at that time, tells the story this way saying that she,

“was asked to visit the husband of a parishioner who was in a nursing facility with a debilitating and terminal illness. He could barely speak and his body was contorted in an awkward position but he was cognizant and able to communicate, mostly through his family members. The parishioner had told [Lee] of her daughter who had left the church angrily several years before.”

Then one day she walked into the parishioner’s room and found the angry daughter, Susan, and her partner, Isabelle, with him. Lee said,

“I drew in a deep breath expecting to be met with challenge and hostility, but was determined to be open and to not allow myself to become flustered no matter what. The daughter was pleasant but cool and I did my best to be open and welcoming, hoping to be a good representative of the church she so mistrusted.”

That meeting was good. What followed was a surprise to Mama Lee as things progressed more quickly than one might expect. This so often happens as w do not see how the Holy Spirit is already working in someone’s life. Lee told me,

“Several weeks later I saw the daughter in Church. I tried to remain cool, not to have too many expectations.” Lee likened this to building trust with a feral cat, which she had done successfully two times in the past- slowly, quietly, “let her take the lead, let her make the first move, then encourage, affirm, assure.”

She did not know that in the meantime, Susan felt herself not gently nudged to go to St. John’s Episcopal, but all but shoved by what felt like a booming voice in her head saying, “Show up!”

Susan listened to God telling her to go to church. She showed up only to find as she would later say, “I hard every single prayer, reading, and hymn, and the entire package was an unmistakable message: “You are loved. You always have been loved. And I will always love you.”

Here was the clarion call of the God who made her and who loved her just as she was and wanted better for her. “You are loved. You always have been loved. And I will always love you.” A call she has since extended to many others letting persons who not known this before in on the not so secret that God has always loved them.

This fits so well with the prayer for the consecration of a deacon which says in part, “Make her, O Lord, modest and humble, strong and constant, to observe the discipline of Christ. Let her life and teaching so reflect your commandments, that through her many may come to know you and love you. As your Son came not to be served but to serve, may this deacon share in Christ’s service…”

There are so many others who have been wounded by the church and yet wonder about Jesus. They have heard that God loves them, that God is love, and even that as our Presiding Bishop has put it, “If it is not about love, then it’s not about God.” And yet all they have experienced from the Body of Christ that is the church is judgment and shame.

Mother Lee remembers what follows as Susan sending her daily emails (or so it seems in her memory) and these were filled with questions that were running through Susan’s head rapid-fire. She added, “I know she thinks that was burdensome but it was actually one of the most pleasant times in my ministry. It was so nice to spend time talking with someone who was seriously thinking about their faith and questioning aspects of the Church that had not really taken up a lot of space in her life for a while… Susan moved from being a feral cat that I wanted to coax back to the church to a becoming much trusted friend. I know she will be a gift to the Church and will sometimes challenge us to stretch ourselves to become the folks Jesus wants us to be.”

The truth is it would not all be so smooth. Susan’s renewed and unwavering faith in Jesus has puzzled some of her friends as Susan now goes into places that are very wary of Christians.

As Susan told me as we talked about today, she sees the needs of those who are lost and left out as so large, so immense, which is why she selected our reading from Acts today. This passage comes in the midst of a fight in the early days of the Jesus Movement. Some of the Greek speaking members of the church were upset at those who had grown up Jewish. The Acts of the Apostles puts it like this:

“Now during those days, when the disciples were increasing in number, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of food.”

Everyone agreed that the church needed to tend to this thorny problem, which was choking the growth of the early Christian community. The Sacred Order of Deacons, then, was created to tend to an issue in the church so that the apostles could focus on their particular ministry of sharing the Good News of God’s love in preaching and teaching. This bore tremendous fruit for the Gospel.

The apostles found a solution in which seven members of that early Christian community were put forward for the laying on of hands to become the first deacons. The Acts of the Apostles records, “The word of God continued to spread, the number of disciples increased greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many priests became obedient to the faith.” The apostles tended to the problems in the church prayerfully and appropriately. Growth followed. The early Christians discovered the need for people whose focus is taking care of those in need.

Deacons are not to do all the work of servant ministry. Deacons are to serve as icons of servant ministry, examples to others. Where deacons thrive, we find the fruit of that ministry is that many parishioners in that congregation are called to more fully living into their own baptismal vows in caring for others as deacons both tend to the lost and the left out and call others into that ministry as well.

Susan is what we sometimes call a transitional deacon as she will likely serve barely more than six months in this order of ministry. This ordination is a challenge to Susan to find ways during this transitional period to fully live into being a deacon in word and deed and not in title only. This fits well with Susan’s own call as she has experienced the Holy Spirit not nudging her, but all but shoving her to “just go and be with the people who are in pain and in need.”

As we come to know Jesus in the Gospels, he is much more interested in those wounded by religious leaders than in those who are all holier than thou. Jesus clearly wanted to connect with those who were hurt and yet still longed to know God and to be known by God. The man living among the tombs plagued by a legion of demons, the Samaritan woman who went to the well in the middle of the day and so many others who knew too well the judgment of religion, but had yet to experience love and grace, these were the ones Jesus ministered to the most. Like feral cats who want to find a home, but fear what they have seen of humans, those injured by the church long for Jesus, but fear what they may face from his followers and those who lead them.

And this is where we should be delighted to discover the joy of sharing God’s love is not something reserved for deacons, priests, and bishops. No, the Body of Christ as a whole, all of us, are supposed to share that same love with others, loving everyone and letting God sort out the rest.

We are not ordaining Susan to share the love of God so we don’t have to do so. We are ordaining her for a role in the church that will have her serving those most in need and calling the rest of us to join her in the effort.

We all know the love of Jesus, the Good Shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go after the one that is lost. In our own families, in our workplaces, and among our friends, you and I are already deployed where God needs us to be there for people we already know to play the role that Mother Lee Shafer played in Susan’s life of being the sounding board for that feral cat stage of trying to trust God and God’s church. And in this effort, the real work is that of the Holy Spirit. I see this in how the Spirit was acting in Susan’s life to draw her back in to the Body of Christ. I have experienced this in my own life. And I have seen it in others who God has put in my path, where the Holy Spirit is already with them. We just have to be a part of affirming that message is real: You are loved. You always have been loved. And God will always love you.

It is the Good News that so many people need to hear. So let us not delay any longer, but affirm our faith together and then pray for God to make Susan a deacon, knowing that the Spirit will use her and us to reach those who need that grace, mercy, and love.

Amen.

Moving to Phase 2

May 19, 2021

Dear Clergy and Senior Wardens of the Diocese of Georgia,

As promised in my letter to you all last Friday, I am following up further on the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) stating last week that, “fully vaccinated people no longer need to wear a mask or physically distance in any setting” and then adding some caveats. After months of following CDC recommendations, I know it looked as if I was suddenly ignoring them. The difference was that, unlike when they announced previous changes, the CDC failed to update their page with considerations for Communities of Faith last week and have yet to do so. That particular web page, together with significant input from top level experts made available to us through the Episcopal Church’s House of Bishops, had been guiding our actions. I am now offering an option for Clergy and Vestries who discern that conditions in their area and in their congregation allow them to move to Phase Two Guidance. You may remain in Phase 1 indefinitely given the discernment of your vestry.

As you will see, the Phase Two option takes into account the varying contexts of our congregations. A parish with 18 people on a Sunday who all know each other well can take their congregation into account and find a way forward that may differ from that of a larger parish. Rectors or Priests-in-Charge, their wardens, and vestries will make their decision together based on the diocesan guidance, their own congregation, and its context. Once these decisions have been made, the Diocese must be informed of the congregation’s plans, using the attached Phase 2 Certification Form. Vestry votes may be collected in person or via electronic means. All of this is in keeping with the way we moved back to in-person worship last summer.

Please note that some communities in the diocese may still have mask mandates in effect and congregations in those areas must follow the law in those instances. As the context changes, more congregations can decide to move to the new guidance. The changes can be made as soon as is best for your congregation.

With these changes, we are moving toward those who are vaccinated being encouraged, but not required, to practice masking and distancing. I remain concerned that by requiring only the unvaccinated to wear masks, we single them out for decisions over which they may not have control, or we inadvertently encourage them to ‘fit in’ by not wearing a mask even though they remain unvaccinated, thereby increasing risk for everyone. I am also concerned about teens and children who are not yet fully vaccinated or can’t be, as well as for newcomers who visit our churches.

Pax et bonum,

+Frank

The Rt. Rev. Frank Logue | Bishop of Georgia
Episcopal Diocese of Georgia

Phase 2 documents: 
May 19, 2021 Guidance for Phase 2
Vestry Certification for Phase 2

1Book1Diocese for Eastertide

The Diocese will read together Love is the Way by Presiding Bishop Michael Curry as the 2021 1Book1Diocese pick. 

Each week is mapped out with a discussion guide that you can find here:

Love is the Way Discussion Guide

You can do this with your congregation, a small group, or on your own. The book can be found at any bookseller or be downloaded via Audible.

Bishop Curry will be joining us at the end of Eastertide to do a live Q&A about his book through Zoom. Look for more information in future editions of From the Field.

Daily Lenten Devotions

This year the Diocese will be offering daily reflections during Lent, written by both clergy and laity throughout the Diocese. Monday through Friday will be reflections on the Daily Office Readings. Saturday reflections will be focused on a spiritual practice that you may be able to incorporate into your personal routine. On Sundays the reflections will be based on different pieces and experiences of music. These reflections may be used as a resource for your congregation or as a personal guide through Lent.
 
The reflections start with on Ash Wednesday and carry through to Easter Sunday. These reflections continue with the theme for this past November’s Diocesan Convention: “Thriving in the Vine.” Jesus gave this image of himself as the vine and us as the branches to his followers on the night before he died, as he knew they would face tremendous hardships and he wanted them to see how life-giving connection to him is for each of us.
 
The Diocese of Georgia’s social media pages (Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter) will post a piece of each day’s reflection, along with a link to the PDF with the full reflection. 
 
To view and download the reflections, click here.

An Advent Message

Lighting a candle in the darkness is a powerful symbol of hope. The strength of even a single candle to dispel darkness is something I learned memorably as a Boy Scout. I went caving with my troop on a handful of trips. Gathered in a room in a cave with our headlamps combining to bounce lights off the stalactites hanging from the ceiling and stalagmites slowly rising up from the cave floor, we would turn off all our lights at once and sit in silence in the darkness that seemed denser in a cavern under the earth. Not the tiniest glimmer could leak in.

The first time we did this when I twelve, I found the feeling of an abyss frightening. Surrounded by friends, I felt so completely alone. Then a leader struck a match to light a candle. That was enough. Our eyes could adjust to see so much by that one point of light.

This week, more than a billion Christians will mark the First Sunday of Advent. From the Latin word Adventus, meaning “coming,” advent is marked in the four weeks leading to Christmas. It is a time to remember that Jesus promised to come again. We look toward that Second Coming even as we prepare to celebrate his first advent in Bethlehem. Lighting a candle in an advent wreath is a way some churches mark this season, with an additional candle lit each week. A brief advent wreath service in the home is a way individuals and families can also keep this season. The hope held out by even a single flame is so needed in this year of pandemic.

Some years ago, my wife, Victoria, and I experienced worshipping in the midst of a storm in a way that revealed something important to me about the hope of this season. A storm blackened the sky as we drove to church for Sunday evening worship. As the service progressed, rain loudly pelted the metal roof of the old church. At one point, thunder boomed and the power went out. Candles already lit, worship continued without pause.

As we approached the breaking of the bread in Communion, the bulletin noted “Worshippers are invited to hold hands during the Lord’s Prayer.” To my left, I reached for Victoria’s hand as I have done for more than three decades. At the altar and in the emergency room, and in a great variety of situations, we have held one another’s hands. Then I reached back and a woman I could not see readily took my hand as I reached back. Jesus’ words recited in prayer, the woman behind me squeezed my hand and then let it go. It was the smallest of touches, but her squeeze felt meaningful, important. The touch we shared as the storm beat against the church made communion all the more real.

Quite coincidentally, the next day we watched the movie Toy Story 3. In the animated film there is a scene where the toys we have come to love in the previous two films face what appears to be certain destruction. They are traveling down a conveyor belt toward a furnace. Despite bold attempts at saving themselves, no further options remain.

Facing this moment of certain annihilation with no hope of rescue no words are exchanged, however, a look a “what now” passes across the faces of the toys. Then one reaches to hold another’s hand. One by one they reach out to hold another’s hand. In that moment of holding one another’s hands in the face of uncertainty, relief comes in. Not that rescue seems more likely, but the toys know that whatever they face, they will face it together. Hope is restored like a light shining in the darkness.

When the toys reached out to hold hands, showing their love for one another in a time of great uncertainty, I remembered powerfully the feeling of holding hands in church the evening before. I knew then what the creators of Toy Story 3 showed so clearly in animating the facial expressions of the toys, when the moment of “now what” comes, the hope is in not having to face the unknown alone. Togetherness changes nothing in the problem before us and yet in bearing one another’s burdens everything is different.

We all share a longing, a need for hope. We need the word we find in John’s Gospel, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). As we journey toward Christmas, lighting candles to mark the season, the hope we see in that light dispelling darkness is that whatever we face, we do not face it alone. This is true as the God who made us and loves us is with us. And as we light candles to mark the season, we can also make calls to check in on those who are cut off because of the pandemic, to offer a hand and to share that hope. Even as we light candles, we can be that glimmer of hope for others.

Thriving in the Vine: Convention 2020 Eucharist Sermon

The Rt. Rev. Frank Logue’s sermon for the Holy Eucharist of the 199th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia from the St. Anna Alexander Chapel on Saturday, November 7, 2020.

Thriving in the Vine

John 15:1-11

“I am the vine, you are the branches.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit,
because apart from me you can do nothing.”

Jesus describes the life of faith in this evocative image of the vine from which we get our convention theme of thriving in the vine. And yet, we know in this pandemic, that the fruit we are bearing is different than in past years and we are not all thriving. And that hurts. A lot. It feels like we really “can do nothing.”

So I want to open up Jesus’ image to hear it anew by sharing a story from when my wife, Victoria, and I hiked the Appalachian Trail in a single trek.

The offer at a hostel run by Roman Catholic monks in Hot Springs, North Carolina, was that hikers could stay for free in exchange for doing some work on the grounds. That evening a Jesuit taught us about perseverance and patience, lessons I was not expecting to be taught by a monk along the Appalachian Trail

Since we were working for our room and board, he handed us gloves and loppers and asked that we spend a while working on cutting and stacking enormous interlacing arches of photosynthesis-fueled razor wire.

This is what the monk said. “Don’t try to make to a difference.” Come again? “Don’t try to make to a difference.” “Everyone is always trying to make a difference. It just wears them out and doesn’t help,” he added.

I am sure the monk saw that workaholic gleam in my eye and recognized my sin. He knew in that glance what I felt deep in my bones—we would be the ones to work so hard that I could make a noticeable dent in the mountain of thorny vines. “It couldn’t be more than a half-acre or so, an acre at the most,” I was thinking, “I can punch a noticeable hole in that.”

“Some work requires patience,” he told us. “There is no quick solution. Working steadily without looking for immediate change can accomplish so much more. Just keep at it,” he said, then added, “Just cut for a while, stack the dead branches in the burn pile and walk away. It’s not your job to finish it.”

This was a lesson we needed to hear. We had picked a lot bigger goal than knocking back a massive patch of weeds. Victoria and I were just 270 miles into a 2,150-mile long hike along the backbone of the East Coast, a journey not just measured in miles but in patience and steadfastness.

The monk then launched into a story that we needed to hear.

He said, “During World War II, a pilot with the Flying Tigers had engine problems and parachuted out just ahead of his P-40 splashing down hard in a forgotten stretch of a Burmese river. “The Army Air Force eventually got a crew up the river to try to wrest the fighter from its muddy grave.

Try as they might, the men could not budge the plane, despite the use of cranes and other 20th century equipment. The whole time they worked, they were watched by the people of a nearby village. As the Airmen were packing to leave, they were approached by a village elder.

Speaking through an interpreter, the elder asked if the people raised the machine, would the Americans buy it back from them. The translator relayed that a deal would definitely be struck. The Flying Tigers were so in need of planes, the ground crew was perpetually patching one together with spare parts to get another fighter flying. “Get the plane up and you will be well compensated.”

The Jesuit paused for effect, he was a natural preacher and a congregation of two was just fine with him. The shadows deepened in the briar patch, he forged ahead, “With the Americans and the mechanical muscle gone, the plan was simple.

Every time a villager swam in the river, those who could, would dive down to the plane and work a short length of bamboo up into the fuselage. Everyday, little by little, bamboo was worked into the cockpit.

Once that area was packed with bamboo, they used vines to get bamboo under any part exposed above the mud. Slowly the plane lifted and more bamboo was added. In time, the P-40 was off the bottom and word was sent downriver that the Americans could fetch their fighter.”

The story was over. The lesson was ended. The Jesuit did not force the point home. He simply repeated, “Don’t try to make a difference. Just cut for a while. Put the vines in the burn pile and walk away.” We worked hard, hacking at the briars, which tore at our arms as we cut. Time passed. The sky turned dark. A very satisfying mound of vines was ready to burn. But when I looked back at the briar patch, you couldn’t really tell that any were missing. We walked away to clean up and get some dinner. 

That evening’s work in Hot Springs became important to our thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail. We could never plan out the hike all the way to Katahdin in the Maine wilderness. We could only look to what came next. There was no real way to hike all the way from Georgia to Maine, at least not at the practical day-by-day level. We could merely hike the next miles in front of us, as far as we could on any given day.

Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.” Abiding, remaining, staying, resting in God. It is out of that life that we bear fruit. We are to be faithful to following Jesus over the long haul. But the effort we take on day by day is in staying close to Jesus, the fruit we bear is a result of that faithfulness.

Perhaps you can’t see the dent you are making in the lives around you, but it’s there.  Don’t let the Enemy blind you to the difference you are making.

Every phone call each of you have made to keep in contact with your parishioners while sheltering in place was just like a section of bamboo going into the plane’s fuselage. The Treasurer filing the Paycheck Protection Program paperwork while the Junior Warden tending to an empty building are part of the faithfulness of this year. The family offering Evening Prayer from their living room. The parishioners gathering masked and distanced to keep the food pantry open. Then there is the ongoing day by day, long month by long month faithfulness of the deacons and priests of this diocese to stay connected in varied ways has been heroic, yet on any given day it was another daily office from home, meeting online with the vestry and even offering Last Rites on Zoom.

None of these acts in and of themselves seems like enough. The online worship, however faithfully offered, seems too meager. The in-person options feel strange.

“I am the vine, you are the branches.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit,
because apart from me you can do nothing.”

Faithfulness is knowing that what we are to do as Christians is to stay connected to Jesus and to one another. This year has made that so much more difficult, but God did not bring us this far to leave us.

Thriving in the Vine is the theme for this convention and yet I know that many of you feel that you are wilting on the vine, not thriving.

But thriving in the vine is a prescription not just for this pandemic, but for all the ways that our souls have been pierced by thorns that want to rent and tear, when what we are really looking for is healing and wholeness.

 If we are faithful to being the Body of Christ, through our personal prayers and reading scripture and corporate worship in the ways we can, Jesus is faithful. In fact, Jesus is working toward the reconciliation of all creation with or without us. The Holy Spirit has been with you through every moment of each of these difficult days. The Holy Trinity is much more reliable, much more faithful than you and me and our feelings about how we are doing.

This is why I was reminded of the wisdom of the Jesuit monk, that evening in Hot Springs as I prayed through the scripture.

“Don’t try to make to a difference.
Everyone is always trying to make a difference.
It just wears them out and doesn’t help.”

Not trying to make a difference isn’t a fatalism about nothing changing for the better. Rather, this is the reality that if we try rely on our own abilities rather than on the God who made us and loves us our efforts will fall flat.

The Prophet Zechariah recorded the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel:
“Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.”

You and I can’t make a difference in the sense that we can’t by force of our own will, change people’s lives much less grow your church’s budget or attendance. Instead of measuring results and comparing ourselves to other churches, we just need to remain faithful, faithful to who God is calling you and me to be.

“I am the vine, you are the branches.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit…”

Faithfulness is abiding in the vine and through that we will bear much fruit, even if not always in ways we hope or expect. If you and I can keep Jesus at the center and focus less on whether we feel like what we are doing is enough and more on taking the next faithful step, God will show up. Not because of our might or power, but because the Spirit of the living God is with us doing the real heavy lifting.

We are not just going to survive, but thrive. Amen.

Thriving in the Vine: Convention 2020

The Rt. Rev. Frank Logue addressed the 199th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Georgia from the Diocesan House on Friday, November 6, 2020.

Beloved in Christ,

We gather online this evening in a convention unlike any of the 198 meetings which precede us. Yet we are here to further the work of the Gospel in our corner of the vineyard just as in every single meeting of the Diocese.

My charge by the canons of our church is to share the state of the diocese with you in this address, including how I have spent my time in the months since my ordination. I will also chart the future for the months ahead before a vaccine or broad immunity permits a return to the new normal.

On March 13, Governor Brian Kemp, himself a faithful Episcopalian, said it was appropriate for faith-based organizations and other groups to consider canceling public events as he worked through the steps to declare Georgia’s first ever public health emergency. Bishop Benhase suspended gathering for worship for the next 14 days in the congregations of the diocese.

With a smartphone, a cell signal and a prayer, 8 in 10 of our congregations went online in some form within the weeks that followed. But all of our contexts are different: in some cases the immediate work was setting up phone trees to check on parishioners.  In others, it was determining which faithful lay people would be willing to learn about Zoom and Facebook Live before making a move online. One priest began offering a written meditation delivered on paper under a rock by the church door, and another set up a weekly telephone conference call to help the congregation pray and worship together.

All across Central and South Georgia, you worked faithfully to stay in contact with parishioners week by week. In many places creative work kept food pantries and other critical ministries operating so that Christ’s love could continue to be felt in your communities. Two weeks of sheltering in place extended and my ordination as your bishop that seemed well in the future in mid-March came and went. We didn’t even get to give Bishop Scott and Kelly Benhase the big, loving send-off we hoped to offer for their faithful care for this diocese in more than a decade of service.

And yet, I personally found the ordination with 11 people in the nave of the church so very meaningful. With more than 100 people taking part in the online worship through processing a banner or singing and more, the liturgy came together in a way that gave me a real sense that the Holy Spirit remained as active in our midst as ever. Our God is living and real, present and powerful.

On my first full day as Bishop of Georgia, I learned from clergy of a planned protest in Savannah following George Floyd’s death. The mayor wrote to clergy, saying, “I am asking you to join me, City Council, [Police] Chief Minter and other clergy in being present in the moment and peacefully show support to communities across the country and the human family that are hurting and in pain. We can make it through this – together.” Episcopal deacons and priests and I attended training in deescalating violence that morning and then we assisted in ensuring a peaceful protest. As I will talk about later this evening, the work Bishop Benhase began in racial healing continues in the same call Bishop Stuart offered in the 1960s, as he helped this diocese navigate ending segregation. I am grateful for the group leading our racial healing ministries and I support them as we focus on Becoming Beloved Community as part of how we are the Body of Christ in our unique settings.

While the pandemic has prevented my making formal visitations, Victoria and I have been enjoying our travels across the Diocese. Thanks to a generous gift from Steve Roberts, parishioner at St. Peter’s, and his dealership Savannah Toyota, I have a new Camry Hybrid that already has 7,900 miles logged in order to lead worship from Albany, Hawkinsville, Honey Creek, Thomasville, Augusta, Swainsboro, Darien, Moultrie, Douglas, Dublin, Sandersville, Fitzgerald, Rincon, Louisville, Valdosta, St. Simons Island, Kingsland, Pennick, and Savannah. Since my ordination at the end of May, I have led worship and preached every week, but the one Sunday when I was on vacation.

And while I officiate and preach on Facebook and YouTube for the congregations that have no priest in charge, these trips have also given Victoria and me the chance to be with clergy and lay leaders around the diocese on their property, seeing and hearing first-hand about their joys and sorrows in the midst of this most unusual summer and fall. My report on the state of the Diocese of Georgia is based then not on the view from here in my office, but from being in the field. 

I am blessed with an amazing team on our diocesan staff, and we all know that a diocese only matters to the degree that it keeps Jesus at the center of our common life while supporting the local church. Our congregations are where our ministry happens and lives are transformed by the Good News of Jesus. The diocese exists to support that ministry. The health of this diocese is the health of its congregations and their people.

Bishop Rob Wright and I worked closely on guidance for in person worship for Episcopalians in the whole state of Georgia that went into effect on July 1. Following that guidance first meant that a vestry needed to assess the outbreak in their region and could state they “feel a return to in-person worship following the Phase 1 guidelines is safe in our context.” By September 1, slightly more than a quarter of our churches were worshipping in person. Now more than half of congregations are doing so in some form.

The Phase 1 Guidance is going through a modest revision now. As with the initial guidance, we have drafted the document and are getting feedback from leaders and will go back to the experts to see how to balance a desire to worship in ways that feel more normal with the need to mitigate risk of transmitting the virus. I anticipate we will publish this coming Wednesday. 

The slight changes are based on the science as we learn more about the SARS-COV-2 virus that causes COVID-19. We will describe how masks and a little more distance will allow a congregation to sing outdoors and how with testing, masks, and greater distance a soloist may sing indoors.

Having served on the bishop’s staff for a decade before becoming bishop, I am privileged to know the 69 parishes and aided parishes of the Diocese of Georgia. Wherever you worship, I am deeply concerned for your individual congregation. My call is to serve all 14,250 of our parishioners as I look toward guidance that mitigates risk for our worship.

Canon Loren Lasch and I have both heard your longings for a return to normalcy and we have spent time with the subject matter experts, physicians who not only know the latest studies on the virus, but who have also spent months treating COVID patients. Even if it is not making headlines, behaviors like singing inside a church correlate to higher cases of the virus. Tragically, church leaders and pastors have been hospitalized, put on life support, and even died.

A given congregation might not experience sickness and even death if significantly less cautious guidelines were to be put into place. But since July 1 we have experienced cases where we later learned someone worshipping with one of our churches did have COVID-19 while in worship. We have clergy and lay leaders who have done contact tracing resulting in attendees going into quarantine while waiting for test results. To date, none of these instances has resulted in a spread of the virus in the congregation as best we can know. Our carefully crafted plans cannot completely prevent the spread of the virus, but our hope is to mitigate risk as much as possible.

This pandemic is calling on each of us to think not only of our own longings for worship, but also of the needs of others. We have had dear friends, family members, fellow parishioners die from the virus. Many congregations have so far been spared that particular grief, but none of us has been left untouched. This has been demanding. Everything is more difficult.

In some cases, this difficulty extends to parish finances. 3 in 10 churches report that giving is down significantly, and when any of our congregations suffer, we all suffer, as we bear one another’s burdens and share one another’s joys. Diocesan Council considered and granted waivers in some cases to the diocesan assessment for those congregations that are most severely impacted. However, we are glad that in many cases, our parishes are faring well financially. 70% of our congregations report that their income is better, about the same, or only slightly less than in previous years. 

As I look to the future, it seems very likely that the current guidance will remain in effect, with slight changes the science and experience make possible, into next year. That is why we are working now to imagine how we can offer Christmas worship with some singing. Yet as we look toward more months of some in person worship with many rightly concerned for their health and not returning to the church grounds, we need to follow Jesus in our daily lives.

I want to focus on sharing the Gospel to people outside our red doors, but a challenge we all need to work on is that a quarter to a third or more of our parishioners have not engaged with their church since mid-March. This is what has been keeping me up at night, knowing that not all of our people have been able to find ways to connect, not all of our people have been thriving during this difficult season. The life of faith in pandemic does not mean getting better at online worship or abandoning it for in person options alone. The challenge is to care for those who are hurting, and to deepen discipleship. The call is to follow Jesus through daily prayer, scripture reading, and other spiritual practices that provide solace and nurture us. I have been blessed to see the creative ways you have helped people do this in your congregations and communities over the last eight months. My prayer is that together we can provide opportunities for even more people to be nurtured by their faith in the midst of these most challenging of times.

My call as a bishop is first and foremost to stay connected to Jesus, for apart from him, I can do nothing. Everything else I do as chief pastor to support our deacons, priests, and lay leaders in every congregation flows from that. The same is true for each Christian.  

The months ahead will not be easy, but we are not alone. We have each other and we have our gracious, life-giving God, who is working out the reconciliation of all creation with or without us. The grace is that we get to take part in that reconciliation. I remain hopeful, not out of some false optimism, but out of the deep conviction that God is faithful and trustworthy and will never leave us or forsake us. 

When we gather at this time next year, I have no doubt that we will be able to look back and see that God has done more than we could ask for or even imagine. I am deeply grateful to be on this difficult journey with you.

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue
Bishop of Georgia

Simply Following Jesus

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue, Bishop of Georgia, gave this sermon for an online worship service from St. Francis of the Islands Episcopal Church on Wilmington Island, Georgia, on October 4, 2020.

Simply following Jesus
Matthew 11:25–30

Simply following Jesus. This is what transformed the life of Francis of Assisi. Simply following Jesus. And once the Holy Spirit got a hold of Francis, he went out and changed the world.

I want to share how you and I can find a more peace in the week and months ahead and in this, we have the able guide of Francis. Today is the church’s Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi and through his life, we find the way to the peace Jesus offers in today’s Gospel reading, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” First, I want to share something of the life of Francis who rose to Kardashian-level fame in his own lifetime. Okay, maybe Mother Teresa levels of respect.

Francis had been born to a life of privilege in a new Italian middle class that was coming into its own. This was a new upward mobility unknown to previous generations. Italy in the 1200s, like much of the world at that time, was divided into the nobility and the rest. The nobles were the majors, mayores, in Italian and everyone else was minores, minor. Francis’ father, Pietro de Bernadone, was a wealthy textile merchant who had moved his family from the minors to the majors. He wanted his son to take his place among the best and brightest of Assisi.

As a boy Francis had dreamed of earning glory in battle. He enlisted, along with the other young men of Assisi to fight in a feud against Perugia, a neighboring town in the Umbrian hills. In his first battle, Francis was captured and made prisoner of war. He became gravely ill while he waited for his eventual release. Defeat in battle and illness in prison caused Francis to turn away from his visions of glory.

Francis would go through a series of experiences that led to a deeper and deeper conversion of life. Rejecting the paths before him in battle and in commerce, Francis was led to simply follow Jesus. The way he set the course for the movement he would start is kind of funny from today’s perspective. Francis went into Church of Saint Nicholas in Assisi with his friend Bernard and the two opened a Gospel book three times, trusting that when the opened the pages and Francis put his finger on a random text, that the text under his finger would be a sign from God of how they should live.

This trust in God is why we read in our Gospel for today, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.”

Francis and Bernard had a child-like faith as they entered St. Nicholas Church. The Holy Spirit guided them to Matthew 19:21, which told them to “sell all that you have and give to the poor”; then to Luke 9:3, which said to “take nothing on the journey”; and then finally to Matthew 16:24, which said, “Follow me.”

Those three passages led to a life of simplicity focused on the poor. And the example of first Francis and Bernard and then others dropping out of the up and coming set to simply follow Jesus was compelling. More and more young men joined the movement. In time, Francis founded a religious order and he gave it the name the Order of Friars Minor. Intentionally rejecting the mayores, the majors, Francis identified with the commoner, the lost and the left out, and he wanted for himself and those around him, a minor life, grounded in humility and trusting God.

With all this in mind, I want to turn back to Jesus words in our Gospel reading, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

2020 is a weary year. Every load is heavier. Everything is more difficult.

Past those comforting words, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” we read, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart.”

In preaching on this passage, the great Christian bishop and writer Augustine of Hippo said, “You are not learning from me how to refashion the fabric of the world, nor to create all things visible and invisible, nor to work miracles and raise the dead. Rather, you are simply learning of me: ‘that I am meek and lowly in heart.’”

Augustine would go on to give the example of building a great building begins with the foundation. He said, “The taller the building is to be, the deeper you will dig the foundation.” Augustine was pointing to those words, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart.”

A yoke is how one puts two animals together to pull a wagon or plow. Wise animal husbandry has long shown that yoking the experienced ox with a younger one will teach the young ox how to plow while the older one bears most of the weight. Jesus offers to be right beside you, shouldering your burdens so you don’t bear them alone. The way this happens is humility. Humility is not a lack of self-esteem or beating yourself up. Humility is a right view of yourself.

Being humble means acknowledging that God is God and you are not. As Augustine put it, “I am not in charged with refashioning the fabric of the world.” This connection between humility and finding peace is not a connection made just in this one verse of scripture.

For example, in the First Letter of Peter we read, “All of you must clothe yourselves with humility in your dealings with one another, for ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’ Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, so that he may exalt you in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him, for he cares for you.”

First clothe yourselves in humility and then cast your anxiety on Jesus, for he cares for you. This is how you let Jesus shoulder your burdens. Here is what it looks like in the week ahead for all who are weary:

Humble yourself enough to admit that you don’t have all the answers. You are not a beauty pageant contestant longing for world peace. You can’t control world events or make any of the biggest concerns go away by stewing over them. Why spend the night tossing, turning, and worrying? God is going to be awake anyway. Offer your weariness, your burdens, your anxieties, your fears to God in prayer. Pray for God’s will rather than your will. And then go to sleep. If you can do this an amazing thing will happen.

At a practical level, neuroscience reveals what God knew all along, that when you get weary and anxious, you move from thinking clearly to working out of the lowest level of your brain where fight or flight are the only options. There is nothing wrong with that response in the right circumstances. After we finished building the church building at King of Peace, when I was starting that congregation, I was pulling up the erosion control fence alongside the building. In reaching around the back side of the fencing to grab a stake, I exposed a cottonmouth moccasin who coiled back when its own primitive brain kicked in. This is one of those occasions when my body decided for flight rather than fight. It didn’t take me long to look at that snake. I jumped back, practically levitating, with my heart racing. The snake slithered away. The adrenaline that flooded my system kept me anxious after the threat had long passed. But that was just my God-given alert system keeping me ready in case of a renewed threat.

That anxious response is a gift in the right circumstances. But as a day to day way of living, being on high alert is not healthy. And when all of us go around bumping into one another as we navigate the pandemic, that sort of anxious way of dealing with life is bringing more hurt than healing. The deep wisdom already in scripture is what happens when you opt for humility. God is God and you and I are not. Thanks be to God!

Francis dug a deep foundation of humility and God did something marvelous with it.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” If you need that rest this week, just know that Jesus is already yoked with you, ready to pull the load, but you have got to let go of solving the world’s problems and even the difficulties you face at home and school and work. Turn off the TV. Stop doom scrolling the news on your computer. Stay away from Social Media. Let God be God. You get that at this point, I am preaching to myself, right? But I suspect we all need to hear this.

The point is simply that a right view of yourself helps you put our trust in God rather than in your own power or intellect. Like Francis of Assisi and all those who have simply followed Jesus, you need to know that the maker of heaven and earth knows you, loves you, and wants you to stop feeding your anxiety. If you can do this, you will find that God is faithful and will lighten your burdens and give you rest.

Amen.

A Pastoral Letter

October 4, 2020 – The Feast of St. Francis Assisi

 “You do well if you really fulfil the royal law according to the scripture,
‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
– James 2:8

Dear Followers of Jesus,

In less than a month, we will have all cast our votes for the next President of the United States. I write to call upon you to pray, to vote, and to show your love of God as found in Jesus Christ, through your words and actions, as you love your neighbor as yourselves. In these ways, we demonstrate our essential trust in the Holy Spirit as we take part in the political process.

I have heard that the soul of our nation is at stake in this presidential election. I have heard that sentiment from across the entire political spectrum, from liberals to conservatives and everyone in between. I do believe that this election is momentous because the tensions that have accrued in this unusual year may tempt us to lose sight of the mark set by Jesus to love God and love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Everything, as Jesus clearly told us, hangs on these two commandments.

This month I ask you join me in praying, voting, and loving:

Pray
Daily prayer always matters as we offer those needs in our hearts and minds. The Apostle Paul writes in Romans that even when we do not know how to pray, the “Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” Forward Movement will offer a Novena, an ancient practice of nine successive days of prayer, in the week before through the day after the election. You can sign up for A Season of Prayer: For an Election online here. Whether you opt for praying the prayers offered by this Episcopal Church ministry of discipleship and evangelism or not, I hope you will join me in praying daily as we approach the election and in the days following.

Vote
As we pray faithfully for God’s will, we are also called to act. We have a duty to our country to cast our ballots as our faith and prayers lead us to vote.

Love
I so value that each of our congregations have people who disagree strongly on politics yet enjoy gathering together to worship and serve God. Even though we can’t kneel alongside others at the altar rail right now, I know that those same connections remain strong. Following Jesus isn’t easy. Even as we hold strong convictions, we must do so without demonizing those who disagree with us. Our words and actions toward those whose political choices are opposed to ours, reveals our love of God and neighbor and is our witness to the world.

Holding an election in a pandemic means we will also need to have patience as we await the results, continuing to pray as we wait. 

No matter which candidate is elected, we must not lose sight of love, even if we were to gain the whole world, we could lose our own souls. Each of the candidates is a flawed human being who will fall short of the glory of God, as do we all. Neither candidate will bring about the Kingdom of God on earth. But if we respond to the neighbor whom we know with anger or hatred for their differing political views – or for any reason – we are unfaithful to Jesus’ call to love even our enemies. And it is that steadfast love that bears witness to Jesus and carries on Christ’s work of reconciliation in the world – the responsibility of every Christian.

No matter who is elected, scripture calls us to pray faithfully for that person once in office. Knowing the weight of responsibility a President of the United States bears, everyone who serves in that role needs our steady prayers. And no election ends our call to remain active citizens, writing to those who represent us to advocate on behalf of causes our faith enlivens us to support. For no matter what happens, we know that long after we have voted, we will still need to pray and to love and so follow the way of Jesus.

Pax et Bonum,

+Frank

The Rt. Rev. Frank S. Logue
Bishop of Georgia

Click the link below for a PDF file of this letter:
A Pastoral Letter – The Election

Forgiving From Your Heart

Bishop Frank Logue preached this sermon for a virtual visitation to
St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Tifton, Georgia on September 13, 2020. 

 

Matthew 18:21-35

Forgiving others can be so difficult and yet the only thing harder than forgiving someone is continuing to nurture the injury in your heart so the unforgiveness remains. I want to share with you how to begin a journey of forgiveness, but to do so I need to tell a story from my family history that shows the stark difference between forgiving and not being able to let go. That story will begin with a mule kicking a cow and by the time the story is done, eight people will be dead.

But I need to fill you in on what came before. Some years before our story, my great grandfather, Joe Frank Logue, was stabbed three times and shot. In the trial that followed his death, my great grandmother Annie Logue testified that her husband was a big man and the man who killed him was only defending himself. No good could come, she said, from punishing his killer and so depriving another family of their father. That was one story. Now the mule and the cow.

In September of 1940, Davis Timmerman’s mule got into his neighbor Wallace Logue’s yard in Edgefield County, South Carolina. It was not the first time and Wallace had warned Davis. The mule was given to kicking. The milk cow was a necessity. On this day, my grandfather’s Uncle Wallace came home to find the mule had kicked the cow in the head and the cow had to be put down. He was mad. Davis Timmerman offered Wallace $20 for the cow. Wallace stewed and then went to Timmerman’s Store to get more money. Davis Timmerman was slight while Wallace was 6’3”. Wallace demanded $40 for the cow and then took out an axe handle from a sales rack when Davis refused. He got in a good hit before Davis pulled a gun hidden behind the counter. He shot twice. Wallace fell to the floor and bled out. Timmerman drove to the Sheriff’s Office and turned himself in.

In the trial that followed, the jury ruled the killing had been in self-defense Davis Timmerman went free. Wallace’s wife Sue and his brother George couldn’t sit still with forgiving Davis. They were all faithful members of Little Stevens Creek Baptist Church, but this lesson had not gotten through uniformly.

Sue and George gave $500 to their nephew, also named Joe Frank Logue, to get him to hire a gunman to kill Davis Timmerman. Joe Frank, an officer with the Spartanburg Police Department, hired an out-of-work plasterer named Clarence Bagwell to take vengeance for them. A year after Davis Timmerman killed Wallace Logue, Joe Frank hid in the floorboard of a car while Bagwell went into Timmerman’s Store and shot five times in rapid succession with .38 caliber pistol. The two then went and threw the pistol in a lake. The matter was done.

Bagwell later talked when drunk and the woman he told notified the police. They picked up Joe Frank Logue at work, but news reached the Logues that newly elected Sheriff Wad Allen and Deputy ‘Doc’ Clark were on the way to arrest Sue and George. My grandparents and my dad were in the house. They left. Fred Dorn, a sharecropper on Sue Logue’s land showed up and he and George and Sue prepared to make a stand.

In short order Sheriff Allen was shot in the head and killed, and Deputy Clark was severely wounded in the stomach and arm. Although wounded, Clark managed to shoot both Dorn and George Logue. Clark then left the house and staggered to Hwy. 378 where a passing motorist picked him up.

Law officers surrounded the house, but they also asked the local circuit court judge to appeal to the Logues and Dorn to turn themselves in. Judge Strom Thurmond (who later became Governor and Senator Thurmond) walked unarmed into the home and came out with the Logues. Dorn died the next day, and Deputy Clark the day after that.

Four months later George Logue, Sue Logue, and Clarence Bagwell sat through the three-day trial. In two hours, the jury came back with the death penalty for all three. A later trial for Joe Frank Logue reached the same verdict.

Sue, George, and Clarence went to the electric chair on January 15, 1943 all within an hour of one another. Joe Frank Logue, who had hired Bagwell for the Timmerman killing, was sentenced to die on January 23, 1944. After eating his final meal, he was prepped for the electric chair. Governor Olin D. Johnston arrived at the prison shortly after midnight to visit Joe Frank, and soon commuted his sentence to life.

In all eight people died as a result of a mule kicking a cow: Wallace Logue, Davis Timmerman, Sheriff Wad Allen, Deputy W. L. Clark, Fred Dorn, Sue Logue, George Logue, and Clarence Bagwell.

In the first story, my great grandmother spoke up for forgiveness and understanding when her husband was killed. In the second, her brother and sister in law and nephew couldn’t let it go. Joe Frank was, by the way, transformed and eventually went free. I recall fondly going hunting with my great uncle and his sons when I was growing up.

I know this story is a little extreme. But the body count for not forgiving is very high. Resentment and anger lead to heart issues, cancer, and basically increased risk for whatever might ail you if your immune system is low. If the cost of forgiving someone seems high, you haven’t totaled the cost of not forgiving.

If unhealed emotional wounds could be seen, the way a fresh deep cut can be seen, then our stores, churches and ball fields would look more like the site of a plane crash. The walking wounded stumbling around in shock, not realizing how life-threatening the wounds truly are.

Don’t deal with your Dad’s alcoholism. Never bring it up to him or anyone else. Instead, just ignore your Dad. Cut him out of your life. Then take every opportunity to make your Mom suffer for allowing that man into your childhood home. Never mention why you act like you do. Just get your revenge slowly by slowly. And when the old pain from the times he hit you or the words he said in drunken anger resurface, just stop by the liquor store on the way home. You’ll be fine.

If you act like nothing happened. Or if you heal just the surface, you will leave the hard work of healing undone. Not forgiving is like drinking poison every day hoping that it will kill the person you don’t want to forgive.

So how do we get to real healing? It takes true, lasting forgiveness. Forgiveness of big hurts takes a process in which you come to see what needs to be forgiven, you come to see the person who hurt you as God sees them, you give up on revenge and you let go of the hurt. What you don’t do is ignore the problem.

Please know that forgiving someone does not mean forgetting, or staying in a place where the person can continue to hurt you. You can forgive someone of abuse even as you move away from him or her.

In forgiving someone who has mistreated you, it is best to start by remembering that person is as human as you are. To take but one example, imagine that your father treated you roughly when you were growing up. You can start by recalling that while he tough on you, he treated you as badly as he himself was treated by his own father. By forgiving your father for the wrongs he did to you, you may break the cycle that began generations earlier.

This forgiveness you offer is an act of the will first. The name that first came to mind may be a person that you have trouble imagining how you can forgive. Try it anyway.

The short prayer I found to assist with this is Bless ____, Change Me. Pray for God to bless the person who hurt you. Pray for God to change you. Saying the words has power. For in the end, it is not through your own force of will that the healing power of forgiveness comes. That healing comes from God’s love, which you can begin to release more fully by saying those words. If you can only say the words and not really believe them, don’t fret. Try it again later. Keep coming back to those words of forgiveness. There is power in releasing the other person from that debt they owe you for the suffering he or she caused.

Here is one last truth about forgiveness. The hardest person to forgive is not the one who caused you the greatest hurt. The hardest person to forgive is your self. Seeing others as God sees them, means also seeing yourself as God sees you.

I promise that I have not said all that needs to be said. What you need is to talk to a priest or therapist. You need to lay the hurts out to someone who can help you sort out how you can begin the process of forgiveness. Then you need to take the steps to let go of the hurts.

Here’s how you’ll know you have succeeded in forgiving others from the heart as Jesus teaches in our Gospel reading. If you truly forgive someone, when the old wound resurfaces, you won’t have the anger, the resentment, the negative energy rise up like it does now. You will remember the pain. You will see how you have grown from finding the lasting healing for yourself. Then you will know you have truly forgiven and you are free.

Amen.

Injustice and Faithfulness

The Rt. Rev. Frank Logue preached this sermon on June 3, 2020 for a livestream Evening Prayer liturgy from the Diocese of Georgia.

I want to speak this evening from my heart about matters I would rather not disclose in my first week as Bishop of Georgia. But with protests are raging around the country this week following the killings of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, we all could use to let some of our own stuff surface and let God work on it. I want to be vulnerable with you for a few minutes and share something of my story. 

I grew up saying that my family never owned slaves, so racial unrest is not my problem. I have come to see this quite differently over time. But the truth is whether you think issues of racism is your problem or not, our house is on fire and we are all going to have to work together. I share not to make anyone feel bad, but because this is the best way I know to name how Jesus can bring the reconciliation we all need.

I was born in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1963. It was a divided city in a fractured time and while I did not understand, that context is the one in which I came to learn about race, without even knowing I was being taught. I am old enough to recall seeing water fountains and bathrooms marked “colored” and I never wondered about why that was so. Just as I never wondered why I started school at a Methodist Church when my grandmother ran the school lunchroom at a nearby public school. 

I was taught to use the word colored and never heard my parents saying racial epithets, though that was all around. But my dad did buy and play for us Reb Rebel Records, a racist record label that is best not looked up by those who haven’t heard of it. They were the sort of thing one would find at a Klan Rally and other white supremacist gatherings. I think my father thought they were funny. I don’t know. They were horrifying. They were part of my childhood. I never asked him about the records or why he played them for us. I just know that embedded in my childhood were messages of not sharing pools with colored children and I learned that there was a taint, a stain that I was to avoid. And it would take many years before I ever examined the implicit messages I received. 

I came to see that the theological truth that every human is a child of God and that our differences are a gift, and no one is cursed. But by the time I considered and rejected the underlying premise that different ethnicities make some people inherently better than others, I had a lot of words, phrases, jokes, and songs implanted in my mind. The ideas of race that had been hard-wired into me were in the way if I wanted to love my neighbor as myself. They were separating me from God. And that my friends is sin. Racism was an important founding sin for this nation as we built great cities on the backs of enslaved workers and to do enslave people, the enslaver needed the enslaved to be inferior. Otherwise, how could we treat equals so cruelly?

In our reading from the Habakkuk, the Prophet cries out, ““Alas for you who build a town by bloodshed, and found a city on iniquity!” That strikes home in Savannah, which was built on the rising price of and market for cotton. It is well documented that I was consecrated Bishop of Georgia in a church paid for at least in large part by money made from the slave trade and from cotton. The seal of the Diocese on my ring was the personal seal of our first bishop, whose wealth came from generations of enslaved workers. We have a constant reminder in our midst of how painfully wrong people of good will can be when they benefit from getting the Gospel wrong. We can also work to get it right. The actual ring was worn by Bishop Stuart as he championed integration in the 1950s and received death threats for it.

Habakkuk is one of those books of the Bible you didn’t get as a child in Sunday Schol. He is what you get when you cross a more traditional prophet like Amos or Isaiah with the not-afraid-to-complain-about-God-to-God’s-face character of Job. Like Amos or Isaiah, Habakkuk is righteously indignant about the moral decay of the world in which he lives. Habakkuk looks at the utter unfairness and sometimes downright evilness he sees all around him and he cries out to God with words that sound like they come from one of David’s Psalms of lament. The prophet says, 

“O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you “Violence!” and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. So the law becomes slack and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous—therefore judgment comes forth perverted.”

Habakkuk’s cry seems so very like cries rising in our own nation this week. We were reeling from the COVID-19 crisis and in the midst of that rising unrest at restrictions three more killings added new names to the list of black and brown people who have been killed while doing things that would not put my life in danger. We should not be surprised when injustice repeats in predictable ways that cries of How long? can take some past to the breaking point.

If you were to read further in Habakkuk, you would learn of a greater vision of justice still coming. We have to wait for the true justice. In the meantime, the righteous are to live by faith. But the translation faith is not completely right. If you look it up in a New International Version or New Revised Standard Version of the Bible you’ll see a text note suggesting faithfulness as another translation. Faith is agreement to a belief. Faithfulness is the practice of being faithful. More than just head knowledge, faithfulness comes with action. God tells Habakkuk that while we await God’s justice, we are to put love of God into action against the injustice we see. We certainly can do this with outward action, but I have to tell you that I have learned to begin with the injustice I find in my own heart.

There is an image I have of the work I need to do and it is one close to home for me, as it is a vine in my own backyard. My wife, Victoria, and I bought a lovely 1925 bungalow in 2014. Everything inside was perfect. The yard was another story. The family and then couple that lived there for the forty years took less and less care of the yard as they aged.

Trees grew close to the house and garage and vines grew everywhere. The thick thorny vines were the worst. The roots had likely grown stronger over the years as the trees and vines put more energy into root systems as the plants got cut off above ground.

In my struggle, I soon found that one can’t just cut the vine. That seems to make the plant happy, or at least no angrier than the grass when it gets cut. You have to dig up the roots. For a single vine, I usually have to dig six inches deep in an area two to four feet out. Underground I find interconnected sweet potato like tubers. When I dig up the roots, if I don’t get all of it, the root will grow back. Like a sweet potato coming back from a smaller piece potato planted in the garden, so the vines can regenerate from a part of its root system left in the fertile soil. I spent the first several years-worth of Mondays off from work, dirty, covered with sweat, and with what looks like a bushel of sweet potatoes out by the road for the City to pick up. 

When I look at those vines, I realize that stopping sinful actions without addressing the roots of the sin, won’t bring healing. For the soil within me is fertile for sin. If I just cut off the vine, without working to remove the roots, the sin remains, growing and biding its time.

If you were to ask me if I am a racist, I would swear that I don’t have a racist fiber in my being and I want to mean it. I think I have rooted this out of my being and then through my reaction to some event, I recognize my response as arising out of those messages planted deep inside. How is that still part of who I am? Once conscious of my response, I look to root out more of the messages I took in. This isn’t just about issues of race. 

We see something like this in 12 Step Programs that begin with someone admitting that he or she is powerless against their addiction and then turning over the problem to a Higher Power. We know the truth of this and that the Higher Power is Jesus. Even with the Holy Trinity on our side, the struggle is one that is fought day by day, even hour by hour. The roots of the addiction grow so deep and get so entangled in our very core, that this is no easy fight.

I have been on a years long project to rewire my thinking. Reading books has opened my eyes to seeing the world through others. I make sure that at least half of the books I read are by persons of color, women, and people living in very different cultures. When not in a pandemic that has made it hard to concentrate, I average a book a week. That steady diet of seeing the world through the eyes of writers like the theologian Kelly Brown Douglas or the searing words of Ta-Nehisi Coates have helped me see the world anew. Mostly, they have given me new ears through which to hear scripture and new eyes to see injustice around me. 

There is so much more that could and should be said about the specific issues in the three killings that caused anger to boil over anew. We must dismantle the system that offers unequal safety and fails too often to render justice. But before I was ready to read Kelly Brown Douglas’ book Stand Your Ground and hear her reflecting on being a black mother in a world far more dangerous for her children than for my girl, I needed to start with the roots of what was implanted in me. 

I don’t know what the struggle is for you. But I know each of us has roots within us that we have left below the surface. We have worked on the outer facade, yet inside the sin remains. In Christ we have a way forward, for Jesus is the Good Gardener. This means that our connection to God can give us the safe space to do that inner work, to weed out the nasty within that we try to keep hidden. Don’t worry about what may be revealed as we look within for God already knows the content of your heart and loves you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to work on some more weeding.

God gave Habakkuk the answer, the righteous are to live by faithfulness. And so day by day I read the Bible and pray. Since Ahmaud Arbery’s killing, I have prayed not just for his family, but also for the father and son who killed him as well as for the man who recorded the video and his family. And Praying for them all daily has become significant to me. Prayer is what I can do. Praying for all involved is what faithfulness looks like for me as I genuinely want Jesus to take the evil done and weave together for the good. 

Somehow, despite the fact that I will always need to root out sin from within, God still gives me the gift of his presence and the power in that work. Grace abounds as the work within me is the work of the Holy Spirit, not something I have to do by force of my own will. For God is both active in the world and present in our hearts. This doesn’t mean we don’t have a role to play in bringing more of the reconciliation for which all creation longs. God’s ongoing action means that the work is not ours alone, and this is Good News in a troubled and troubling week. Amen.