Thursday, February 16, 2012

Dear People of Christ Church,

This Sunday is the last Sunday of Epiphany Season, the Feast of the Transfiguration, the story of Jesus taking his friends up to the mountain top and being greeted by Elijah and Moses (needless to say, those friends were pretty alarmed). It has become a custom here at Christ Church (whether by the convenience of the liturgical calendar or intentional theology) that we have had baptisms every Transfiguration Sunday for as long as I've been here, I think. This Sunday, we baptize Lila Nolte, little sister to Griffin (almost 5) and Henry (2) whom we baptized when they were babies.

We hear the story of Jesus' baptism on the first Sunday after Epiphany, the kickoff for this season of illumination and healing. For Jesus, though, his baptism immediately preceded his time in the wilderness; for forty days, he struggled and was tempted, always to be sustained by his beloved Abba God and kept safe. It's a gift for us to celebrate for Lila and remember our own baptism right before our own Lenten season, our version of Jesus' forty days in the wilderness.

It's a gift because our baptism is so easy to forget. That we were made for more than what we just see with our eyes, but that there is so much power and promise and healing in the life we share with Christ. Jesus went into the wilderness with the fact of God's love for him firmly planted in his heart; at his baptism, God thundered, "This is my Son, the beloved." You, too, are God's beloved; the sustenance that Jesus felt, hungering after stones, is granted you as well.

Our Lenten class, "The Lenten Journey," is based around themes from the Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann. He talks about Lent as a "bright sadness;" he says the purpose of Lent is to "soften our hearts" to open them to the Spirit. In Lent, we are called to be quiet: "it is as if we were reaching a place to which the noises and the fuss of life, of the street, of all that which usually fills our days and even nights, have no access-a place where they have no power" (32).

The water of baptism soaks down to that quiet place-Schmemann wrote in 1969, and how much noisier life is now! (not that I was alive in 1969, but I'm guessing...) Life is full of such wonderful, good gifts-rich food and wine and leisure and joy-but sometimes it's good to put those down, to take some time apart. But we aren't sent off without a party-Sunday, of course, but also Tuesday, when we celebrate our Shrove Tuesday pancake supper. The tradition for eating pancakes on that day is that it's a time to use up all the indulgent stuff in the cabinet-eggs and sugar and cream-before the leaner days of Lent. The word "shrove" is a relative of "to be shriven," to receive penance and absolution. RSVP to office@christchurchwaltham.org or to the office (781 891 6012).

As you begin to pray your Lent, ask yourself what will bring you to Christ; what can soften you to reach that silent place within? Is it something to take on, something to give up? How will you bask in the deep love of your Creator, in coming near to God in the wilderness?

Blessings,

Sara+

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Dear People of Christ Church,

Next Monday, I hope you'll join me in welcoming the Rev. George Walters-Sleyon, founder and director of the Center for Church and Prison. He is a mentee of our friend Norm Faramelli, and Sue Burkart became acquainted with him through her work with the organization Children of Incarcerated Parents. He will be speaking particularly on the "Three Strikes" law currently making its way through the legislature. It's in committee now, with members of the House and Senate ironing out differences between their versions before going to both for the final vote. The law came about in response to the murder of Woburn police officer John Maguire in 2010 in a shootout in the middle of a robbery. He was shot by Dominic Cinelli, paroled after serving 22 years of three concurrent life sentences. Cinelli had had a history of violent crime but was released on parole (though had the DA been notified as they should have been, his parole likely would not have gone through). Cinelli also died that day

So how does a Christian respond? It's hard to say on any issue that there is one Christian response. I oppose it, and Walters-Sleyon will speak about his opposition as well. But it's an issue in a wider context. This is not just a simple question of one law, or putting people in prison for longer. This issue is a knot of social issues; racism, poverty, and economics all come together in a particularly American stew. Prisons are big moneymakers, particularly those operated by private firms, a practice that is more and more common. The more we build the more prisoners are incarcerated, curiously despite the fact the crime is actually decreasing (no, it's not because all the criminals are in jail). The Corrections Corporation of America, a builder of private prisons, chillingly cautioned investors in their 2005 annual report that profits would go down if drug or immigration laws were changed. Naturally, their lobbyists are busy making sure that doesn't happen.

There are six million people under "correctional control," either in prison or on parole or probation, which would make it the second largest city in the country. Particularly in black communities, a conversation is taking place that we need to use the term "abolition." More than half of all black men without a high school diploma find themselves in prison at some point. Despite relatively equal rates of drug use, black people in the US are significantly more likely to be incarcerated for drug crimes. Blacks are now incarcerated seven times as often as whites. In her book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Era of Colorblindness, Michelle Alexander points out that there are more blacks in the US prison system than there were in slavery in 1850. Dominic Cinelli was white, but the bill that seeks to respond to his crime will disproportionately impact black people.

Sociologists and law enforcement are the experts; I don't know how best to allocate punishment to crime, though I intuit there is a lot wrong with how we do it now. As Christians, our job is to try to reconcile the state of our world with the judgment of Matthew 25:

Then they also will answer, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?" Then he will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me." And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.' (v.44-46)

To look at social issues with the eyes of Christ: that is, to look not at "social issues" at all. It is our job to look at human beings. The family that is left behind, the son or daughter whose mother is addicted, the felon who can't even get a job at McDonald's with a record. What does it do to a person to separate them from society and permanently disenfranchise him? However much prison time a convicted felon has served, s/he still loses the right to vote, permanently. What does it say about us as a society that our system deems certain persons beyond salvation? What does it say about our values that we spend $10,000 a year for a school aged child's education but allocate $47,000 for one inmate? How do we respond to those who have lost hope? Worse, when desperation is a logical response to an impossible situation?

As always, I end with more questions than answers. But I look forward to Monday evening to hear what I can do. RSVP and share the event on facebook.

Blessings,

Sara+