Meditation for E/T Committee by The Rt. Rev. Donald P. Hart, Chaplain

April 18, 2012

I do not often have the chance, any more, to take many special parts in the “big” services: on Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, and such. My role usually is more of a helping one for the rector, who rightly so is in charge and front-and- center. I am happy to have it this way, because keeping track of everything going on in a major service, I admit, has become a greater challenge with each passing season.

But, this Easter Mark Jenkins, at St. James, planned to include the renewal of Baptismal Vows at the main service. He wanted (maybe even needed) me to help out with communions later on, but asked me if I wanted to do anything else. That’s a dangerous question to let loose on a retired bishop!

I jumped at the chance to lead the Baptismal Covenant! The baptism and confirmation services are what bishops do – over and over again, every Sunday, on every visitation. People used to ask: Didn’t I grow tired of those services? And I had to answer that, for me, (and also for Elizabeth who traveled with me,) that they just grew more and more powerful, and meaningful. Some of that was the excitement of the youngsters and their families, and even of the older ones being baptized and confirmed – and, of course, a full, enthusiastic church helped greatly. But, it also had a lot to do with those powerful words, and what we were doing in the lives of people, in the name of God. I included myself, as well, in that spiritual strengthening, week after week.

Well, on Easter Day, because I wasn’t doing much, I was seated up by the altar, between two acolytes, in what serves at St. James for a bishop’s chair - and I could let my thoughts wander, while Mark did the heavy lifting in the rector’s stall and the pulpit.

I started to think about the word “Episcopal”, from its Greek roots. It is a combination of two words: the preposition, epi, and the verb skopos, meaning to look over, or to look ahead, to see what’s coming and bridge the distance from here to there. It is what a shepherd does for his flock in order to keep them safe from danger, or to lead them to good pastures. It is what a driver of a team of horses (like mine) must do to be ready for dogs or deer, or anything that can set them off in uncontrolled flight. It is what parents do for their children, because they know the consequences of actions and behaviors that lead in dangerous directions.

And so a bishop, and a church anchored in that leadership, has that kind of vision, that kind of caring. It does not mean danger is always avoided, or that risks are not taken. It means difficulties are spotted, and the community is prepared and strengthened. It is a ministry of making bridges and being willing to include what is new and different up ahead, to find what is holy, in order to journey onward.

That form of leadership developed in days, long ago, when bishops were the church’s chief evangelists and missionaries – not, as they are so often expected to do in our day, to be the managers of an organization and keepers of proper order.

They traveled constantly, going from place to place, raising up new converts, calling forth the faith, strengthening churches by raising up their own local leadership. And then the bishop left. Their job was not to manage and maintain order. Others did that. They called forth faith.

And then, a year later, maybe two or three years later, the bishop would return. What he needed to know was whether the church still held to the faith of the Apostles, or had they wandered off into different forms and practices, that were abundant in the Greek and Roman world. The bishop’s questions became the Baptismal Covenant: “Do you believe in God the Father? … Do you believe in Jesus Christ? … Do you believe in God the Holy Spirit” … and they responded in the words of the Apostles’ Creed.

The other, following questions, called forth from the congregation, who shared this belief, what their life of faith looked like, how they lived their faith, day by day. And the prayers asked God to strengthen them in living just such a life.

To recite this ancient formula is still powerful. In a world like ours, with its diversity and instant communications, we are constantly sorting through ways to believe and live our lives. The options are endless. Now and then, to be called back to the core of who we are, to the essential truths of a baptismal life, is a profound gift – not that everything else is wrong, or not helpful at times, but to center us in our relationship with God. It is a way to see down the road, to look at what is up ahead, to know there is a bridge from here to there, and a path to follow.

That’s the bishop’s role – the essence of the bishop’s visit. It is at the heart of our being an Episcopal church. It is exactly what this Election and Transition Committee has been doing since it began a year and a couple of days ago.

In twelve days Penny Bridges, Rob Hirschfeld, and Bill Rich come to the Diocese – and in many ways they fall into our hands to welcome and move around and make sure they meet as many people as possible. We become their shepherds, to lead them to green pastures, beside still waters – to give them the best chance possible for them to be safe and free to share their faith, their values, their lives.

Episcopal ministry is not easy. Of course we are anxious, perhaps a bit nervous. The risk of hospitality is equally as powerful as their risk of coming here to share who they are. We look ahead. We are their bridge. We embrace and make holy what lies ahead, in order for them tobe at their best, in order for God to be known and shared in this place.

In this Easter Season, we are rising to a remarkable, significant, holy event as we shepherd three people, their family members … AND the diocese, as it assembles. We have looked from here to there – epi skopos – “Episcopal” – and now God’s Holy Spirit will guide everyone of us, as we move into the next turns and challenges, in this sacred journey.