Gee, Mail

As part of our moving-to-Massachusetts deal with Ben we agreed to get him an e-mail address to keep in touch with his friends in Briarcliff. Do I really think a ten-year-old needs a Gmail account? No. But a promise is a promise so I set it up for him yesterday.

What took the most time was coming up with an address. He wanted “Yankees” in it, which made me cringe, but fortunately anything he came up with was already taken. That’s not entirely true — he could have had Yankees123456@gmail.com. That was available but fortunately even Ben realized it was a bit unwieldy. After trying countless combinations, I suggested incorporating “Schenck” into his address. Amazingly enough this isn’t the most popular word to use in an e-mail account. So he now has a functioning e-mail address. Ben is ready to roll on the information superhighway. Or at least e-mail his mother (which he’s already done three times).

If you think this is poor parenting, I must also confess I set up an account for Zack. What’s good for the goose, you know. I doubt there’s a whole lot of 8-year-old e-mail going back and forth around town. “Let’s meet at the playground at noon — ask your mom.” “Okay, sounds good. Go ask your mom.” But at least he can send messages to his brother

Ben’s now asking for an iPhone. But that’s where I draw the line. No BlackBerry or iPhone until you’re at least 11!

Iconography

ICON

If an icon is a window into the divine, it’s helpful to know the difference between the various types. The word “icon” (from the Greek eikon meaning holy image) has lost much of its meaning over the years. The Rev. Al  was quoted yesterday as saying, “Icon was only a fraction of what he [Michael Jackson] was.” I guess the same could be said of Jesus. Though, presumably, a much larger fraction.

CULTURAL ICON

COMPUTER ICON

On Air

I admit I like listening to sports talk radio. This feels like a confession because it’s pretty mindless stuff. It’s not as if I listen to it all day long — just in the car on short jaunts around town. And it’s also not as if I ever call in; I’m a “lurker” in internet parlance. But since sports is a passion of mine, why wouldn’t I enjoy listening to people talk about it? It sure beats political talk radio.

I’ve come to realize that I could never host a sports radio talk show because, well, I’m simply not opinionated enough. At least about sports. I mean, I love to follow my teams (Orioles, Ravens) and I care about what’s going on in the “wide world of sports.” I just don’t hold controversial, provocative, or ranting opinions about this stuff. Which is precisely what talk radio is all about (see Rush Limbaugh).

Actually now that I think about it, I did call a sports show once. When I was in sixth grade I called “Stan the Fan” in Baltimore to talk O’s baseball. I can’t remember what I said but I do recall being incredibly nervous as I got through (!) and waited on hold. But that was it; my radio debut was a one shot deal. I didn’t become a regular known as “Tim from Homeland.” But I’m sure my voice-cracking insights were profound.

I don’t think I’ll be starting an Episcopal Talk Radio show. Though there are plenty of controversial topics and ranting Episcopalians to go around. I’ll stick to listening to sports talk radio. After all, I’m always on the lookout for things to give up for Lent.

Enemy Territory

After we shared the news with Ben and Zack that we were moving to Hingham, Massachusetts this summer, they both promptly burst into tears and ran upstairs. When they came back down a few minutes later we shared some pictures of our new church and community. Then they had two urgent questions: “Is there little league baseball in Massachusetts?” and “Will we be the only Yankee fans in Hingham?”

The answer to the first question was a resounding “yes.” I’m mean, come on, it’s not like we were hauling them off to France. This was a great relief to them both. The next question was trickier because they may well be the only Yankee fans in Hingham, located in the heart of Red Sox Nation. If they plan on wearing Yankee shirts to school they may need to pack a little heat in their backpacks. But they seem undeterred. They’ve even announced that they want their  their new rooms painted with Yankee pinstripes. As an Oriole-loving Yankee hater myself, this is anathema. I hope they don’t expect me to be their personal Picasso.

Once the initial shock wore off, I’ve been very proud of how well the boys have taken the news. Yes, they will miss their friends but they’re also excited about our new adventure. It helps that the rectory is a mere 20-minute walk to the beach. But I think it also helps that Bryna and I have acknowledged their mixed emotions rather than stifling them. We have them too, after all. It’s difficult to say goodbye to so many people who have been such an important part of our lives over the past seven years.

I admit I’m worried that this move will cement their Yankee fandom forever. You might think being surrounded by rabid Red Sox fans would have the opposite effect but I know better. Moving from Baltimore to New York in 1982 made my loyalty to the Orioles even stronger. And one of the sweetest moments of my life was gloating to my Yankee-fan friends after the Orioles won the 1983 World Series. Of course this was the last time they appeared in a World Series (a long 26 years ago). So I’m afraid the boys’ love of the Yankees will become even more entrenched. Which, in my mind, puts me in the “lousy parent” category.

We’re heading up to Hingham on Sunday afternoon to show the boys around town, camp out at the rectory, and get them familiar with their new surroundings before our big move. They’re excited to see everything and I think it will help ease the transition for all of us. You can count on the fact that they’ll be wearing their Yankee shirts for the ride up.

School’s Out

Below is a column I wrote on summer church that appears in the current issue of The Living Church. I’m not positive but I would wager that Alice C0oper has never before been quoted in the publication’s 131 years. Enjoy (or not). But here it is:

GUEST COLUMN

JUNE 14, 2009 • The Living Church 23

Summer Lovin’

In 1972, punk-rocker Alice Cooper released his single, “School’s Out,” with the chorus “School’s out for the summer; school’s out for ever.” And for a generation, it was the last-day anthem of school kids everywhere. I certainly remember singing it with my middle-school friends as we raced triumphantly out of our final class with pencils and notebooks flying everywhere.

And then we all looked forward to a lazy summer with, as Alice puts it in his inimitable style, “no more pencils, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks, out for summer, out ’til fall, we might not go back at all.” That was back when the “lazy, hazy days of summer” still meant something. Before we started over-programming our children down to the precise moment each morning when we lather them up with sunscreen.

Unfortunately, some of us keep this “school’s out” mentality toward church. The “last day” often coincides with the parish picnic or Pentecost or some other year-end event. And we live into the old adage that says “Episcopalians are the only ones God trusts enough to take the summer off.” Which is, of course, absurd; a caricature of another era. A time when everyone who was anyone was an Episcopalian. And the moneyed classes left to summer (yes, it’s a verb in this case) on the Cape or the Vineyard or Bar Harbor.

Clergy often unwittingly feed into this mindset. And it’s because we could use a break! But canceling all programs during the summer, offering flat and uninspiring liturgies, and recycled sermons sends the wrong message. It puts the church on auto pilot, which is hardly an engaging way to proclaim the message of Jesus Christ. And it merely affirms people’s decision not to attend church during the summer.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. The summer months offer a wonderful opportunity to try out new things: Introduce some supplemental liturgical texts; hold a “Mass on the Grass” in the courtyard; let licensed lay preachers have a turn in the pulpit. And at the heart of this is the unstated declaration that the incarnational presence of the divine never ceases; that Jesus is with us everywhere and at all times. The summer is a wonderful chance to model this to the world.

That’s not to say there isn’t something nice about slipping into amore relaxed way of doing church once the vaunted “program year” ends. The ceiling fans are cranked up, leading to that low-level hum that pervades the silences; perhaps only two lessons instead of three are read; there’s lemonade available at coffee hour in a big, crystal punch bowl that someone’s grandmother donated decades ago; choir members confuse us by sitting in the pews rather than in the choir loft; when the rector genuflects, you occasionally catch a glimpse of bare leg which shocks you until you realize he’s wearing shorts under all those vestments. There’s a nice, gentle rhythm to summer worship. It’s just that gentle need not translate into uninspired.

The last few summers I’ve put up a bulletin board in the parish hall and encouraged parishioners to post church bulletins from far-flung locales. The purpose is twofold: to encourage folks to go to church when they’re away and to see literally how we spent our respective summer vacations. It’s proved pretty popular as we try to outdo one another with exotic destinations. The only requirement is that you actually attend the service. Sneaking into an empty church and snagging a bulletin from the previous Sunday decidedly does not count.

Enjoy church this summer at home and wherever your travels may take you. And remember that even though school may be “out for the summer,” church is not.

Our guest columnist is the Rev. Tim Schenck, rector of All Saints’ Church, Briarcliff Manor, N. Y., and the author of What Size are God’s Shoes: Kids, Chaos & the Spiritual Life.

No Ordinary Time

“There is No Ordinary Time” — this was the working title for my first (and as of yet only) book. It didn’t make it to publication, but I still love the title. It just works on multiple levels, especially for the liturgical church crowd. I thought of this since we’re now officially in Ordinary Time, that season after Pentecost that lasts until Advent. We’ll be seeing green for a looooooong time.

Of course it’s really a misnomer since there is no ordinary time — it’s all blessed by God and thus it’s all extraordinary time. In the introduction to “God’s Shoes” I wrote:

“I once saw a bumper sticker that read, “There is no secular world.” I’m not big on bumper sticker theology—“Honk if you love Jesus” and the like—but this proclamation said it all. There is no secular world. It is all sacred because God pervades everything. The divine presence weaves its way throughout our daily lives. God can be found in the miraculous and the mundane; in a family room fish tank, through a child’s probing questions, or at the town pool… I never did catch a glimpse of the driver with that bumper sticker. He or she turned off before I could peek into the window. But it doesn’t matter. We often see snippets of the truth on the highways and byways of life, just as we do in the midst of domestic chaos. We simply need to open our eyes to the possibilities.”

Happy Ordinary Time. Wake me up in December.

Ben’s 10

There’s a popular cartoon character named “Ben 10.” His name is Ben and he’s 10-years-old; hence the name. The reason kids like him is that Ben came to possess a watch-like device that allows him to transform into various alien life forms with different and amazing powers. Which he uses to fight crime and assorted bad guys. Though he’s been known to use it for mischief now and again.

I mention this because we’re celebrating our Ben’s 10th birthday this weekend. I was all set for him to have a “Ben 10″ birthday party — it would be the perfect theme! And the plates, cups, and tablecloths would all tie in beautifully. The problem is that Ben liked the show when he was 7 and 8. So he is “way over” Ben 10. Bummer.

OK, Ben, so what’s the theme going to be? “I want a Ravens party.” He didn’t mean Edgar Allen Poe; he was talking about one of his great passions in life: the Baltimore Ravens football team. Not a problem — purple and black balloons and a sheet cake with the Ravens logo scanned on top.

But it didn’t stop there. We offered Ben the option of having his friends donate to a cause rather than bringing presents he didn’t really need. And I was really proud that he embraced the idea. We let him choose the charity and he decided to go with the Ed Reed Foundation in Baltimore. Who’s Ed Reed? Only one of his very favorite football players, the All-Pro safety for the Baltimore Ravens. The foundation helps fund children’s programs in both Baltimore and Louisiana, Reed’s home state.

Needless to say I’m impressed with Ben’s decision and hope his selfless act will inspire other kids (and their parents) to go and do likewise. And don’t worry, Bryna and I still got him that first baseman’s mitt he’s been pining for.

Holy Tweet!

Interesting article on churches and social media posted on msnbc.com today. And not just because I’m quoted all over it. It’s amazing to read about clergy and parishioners who tweet duringthe service. There’s a reason it’s called a “sanctuary,” folks. Time apart from cell phones, Twitter, and Facebook (even for just an hour) is like a mini-retreat in today’s world. I may just have to carry out my threat to purchase that cell phone jammer for my church.

Click here to read the article titled “Holy Twitter! They’re Tweeting from the Pews” by Diane Mapes.

“Father Oprah”

“Father Oprah” has been getting a lot of press recently. And with a moniker like that how could it be any other way? It’s not everyday that a fellow clergyman ends up in the tabloids. Well, besides Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggert, and their ilk. Though I’d lump them more into the category of entertaining charismatic charlatans than clergy.

You probably know the ”Father Oprah” story by now. The Rev. Alberto Cutie, a popular Roman Catholic priest, was photographed canoodling (never thought I’d use that word in a blog post) with his girlfriend on a Miami beach. He since announced that he would join the Episcopal Church and was welcomed with open arms by the bishop of  Southeast Florida. He was officially received into the Church on Pentecost, though it will take a year before he is able to function as an Episcopal priest. He first needs his “Anglican dip” as we like to call it.

Part of me thinks, “Here we go again: the Episcopal Church is becoming a freak show.” Ex-New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevy announces that “I am a gay American” in one breath and then claims he wants to be an Episcopal priest in the next. It wasn’t the issue of his sexuality that bothered me — it was the lack of understanding about the ordination process. You can’t just “decide” that you want to be a priest; you must enter into a discernment process of several years. It was the notion of ‘If no one else will take me surely the Episcopal Church will.” Is that the reputation we really want?

But another part of me is delighted by this. Not because we’re stealing Roman Catholic clergy but because of the Episcopal Church’s emphasis on inclusion rather than exclusion. That isa reputation to be proud of. And on a personal note, I’ve seen a similar situation with one of my closest friends from seminary. A Roman Catholic priest for nearly a decade, Bill fell in love, left the Church, and got married. It was pretty scandalous for the Midwestern town where he served since his wife was the former youth director at his parish. 

He’s now serving a large church in Minnesota, thriving in ministry, and loves being both a husband and the adoptive father of an adorable little girl from Columbia. Bryna and I just happen to be her godparents which is a true delight. But the point is that if Father Cutie is truly called to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church, he may encounter similar fulfilment and affirmation of the decision. Time will tell.

And if “Father Oprah” does end up getting married perhaps he’ll need to change his nickname. How does “Father Family Guy” sound?