Let us now praise caustic persons,
the champions of justice in all generations,
through whom God has restored the flow of mercy.

Some have nailed theses to the church door
with prophetic power.
Some have started new universities to
challenge the prevailing notions.
Some have overturned tables at the temple,
demanding alms for the poor, the sick,
and the destitute before we buy organs
and stained glass.
Some have worn dresses to be priested for gender justice.
Some have yanked off masks to proclaim their loving gay unions.
Some have demanded of the white authorities, “Let My People Go!”
Some have marched through tear gas and police dogs,
defying orders from prelates and judges.
Some have destroyed draft files
and burned plans for nuclear destruction.
Some have organized unions and cooperatives.
Some have fought to redistribute God’s bounty justly.

All these won notoriety in their own generation
and were the scandal of their times.
Many have sat in jails rather than to recant
or to say that the earth as we know it
is at the center of the universe.
Others have died.
Many there are who have left behind them no name,
but a legacy of hope restored, conflict resolved,
injustice rectified, lives redeemed.
Their victories are the inheritance of future generations.
Their line will endure for all times.

– Louie Crew

In keeping with my sometime habit of posting icons on feast days, here are a few saints from the British Isles and Ireland.

From here.

We’re singing eight verses of “For all the saints” in procession this morning at Christ Church as the altar party wends its way through the congregation sprinkling everyone with lustral water. We’ll make a station at our oratory, which is where the names of those buried in our memorial garden are listed. I love this day, and part of the reason is that we get to sing this excellent tune with its stirring poetry. I couldn’t find a good youtube video of this hymn being sung, which is just as well; it’s great fun to hear Joyce Jones on the Crystal Cathedral organ in this setting.

This is courtesy of Meredith Gould, supplier of all things brilliant, humorous, and holy.

Paul Manz was the Cantor (leader of song, the same title J. S. Bach used in his music ministry) at Mount Olivet Lutheran Church in Minneapolis. More than that, he led hundreds or maybe thousands of hymn festivals across the country. He’d dazzle congregations with his improvisions, especially his hymn introductions. And none of this was to make himself look good. He was too pious for that. No, his entire life could be summarized in the three Latin words that Bach inscribed on many of his manuscipts: Soli Deo gloria. To God alone be the glory.

Manz got congregations to sing better. He made people want to sing at the top of their voices. He made organists want to do a better job of leading God’s people in song. Through his many published compositions, he taught a couple of generations of organists how one can transform lives through song, if the organist knows what she or he is doing.

Episcopalians can get snotty about their music. As a matter of fact, I can be that way at times. But my body and soul will never forget the years I spent in the upper midwest at Luther College studying organ. I never studied with Paul Manz, but I played dozens of his pieces. My instructor and my fellow students all sought to lead God’s people in song, often inspired by the methods, the joy, and the holiness of Manz’s works. If you’ve never sung with Lutherans, you’re missing something. For a small sample of Manz’s work, and a thoughtful interview, listen to this episode of Pipedreams.

Paul Manz, rest in peace. If there are pipe organs in heaven, I think the angels and archangels will soon be singing with just a bit more gusto.

Note: My attention was drawn to Manz’s death thanks to Facebook friend Bob Chapman.

Most of the secessionists here are too congregationalist to accept the order and discipline of Rome. More to the point, there are lots (and I mean LOTS) of bishops in the formerly Anglican alphabet soup who won’t want to trade in their newly purchased purple shirts for street clothes while they prepare for ordination as (gasp!) priests. You see, to take this offer, you have to admit that not only are your own Holy Orders invalid, but every sacrament you’ve ever ministered is null and void. Ouch.

Of course, in England, the situation might be different. The Church of England is filled to the brim with all sorts and conditions of unhappy folk, who have not had a viable option until now. The Roman Catholic option, with its unapologetic homophobia and unfettered sexism must look like the Promised Land to a few people. Why am I so cynical?

Let me tell you a story. When I was at the Lambeth Conference, I was sitting in a bar one evening with some friends. Over at the next table, a few of the leading Forward in Faith types were sharing a table with an American bishop — one of our excellent female bishops. When she got up and left, one of the men said, “Well, if more of our bishops could look like THAT, maybe I’d change my mind on women bishops!” Hearty guffaws were shared all around. I was a bit sickened by the comment and its response. Not exactly what you’d call model spiritual leadership. And that was not a very theological way to view the situation, I think you’ll agree.

Anyway, I was inspired by Bishop Eugene Sutton of Maryland. He’s reminded folks that the door swings both ways. Sure, the Pope can reach out to Anglicans. And we might reach out to Roman Catholics. So here’s my plan:

I am thinking that I could invite the priest from the local RC parish to send some people over and chat with people after mass at Christ Church one Sunday. Maybe some folks from Christ Church would like to swim the Tiber. If so, I’d send them with our blessing.

And then, one Sunday, we’d send some folks down to the RC parish to tell them about the Episcopal Church. We’d tell them about our Catholic liturgy and tradition. We’d tell them about our welcome, which in its expansive shape includes women, those with theological questions and even doubts, those who have experienced broken marriages, and those of all sexual orientations. We’d show them our budget and our bylaws, with complete transparency. We’d tell them about our unapologetic desire to be disciples of Jesus Christ.

I think the Tiber would get pretty crowded. You see, I think the Pope has started something he might regret. When we start telling people about everything that Anglicanism offers, we’ll need lots and lots of towels to dry off incoming Roman Catholics who want to worship Jesus Christ in a church that is not defined by exclusion and secrecy.

This fantastic bit of satire is making the Facebook rounds, but a flap of the early bird’s wings goes to Scott Russell.

Thanks to the Creedal Christian.

From Slowpoke Comics. Tip of the hat to Don Compier, via Facebook.

It turns out that the database for  7WD was full, mostly of stats related to web visits. No new posts, comments, pages, and several other things could be be created. So all of your comments since Sunday afternoon have vanished into the ether (or aether, if you are reading this in the UK).

If you remember what you said, please resubmit your comment. I do apologize for the inconvenience. I’ve taken steps to ensure that this will not happen again.

Why do you go to church? What do you say when asked? Frankly, our collective failure to be able to answer this question in a compelling way is the reason why the Episcopal Church as an institution is circling the drain. What would be a good answer?

Here’s my personal favorite: “My salvation depends upon it.” Yes, Jesus Christ is the source of our salvation in that he is our Redeemer and our Savior. I’m speaking of the broader view of salvation (sozo) that also encompasses health, wholeness, and redemption. In other words, when St. Paul talked about working out our own salvation, does the Church have anything to do with that?

My healing and wholeness depends on being part of the Body of Christ made real each Sunday. I need to sing God’s praises, to give thanks for all the blessings of this life, to seek forgiveness, to hear God’s Word, and to taste the Incarnate One in bread and wine. That’s my answer, today anyway.

What is yours, dear reader? What would you tell the kids about why they should go to church?

(Irony alert!) Tip of the surgical cap to Ann Fontaine, via Facebook.

In addition to my vocation as a priest, I’m a bit of a musician. In fact, I studied church music as an undergrad. I love this video for several reasons. Thomas Murray is a terrific organist and a kind person, so it’s nice to hear his take on things. But I really found his description of the “call” of organists to be true. By the way, if you are near New Haven, it’s worth a trip to hear the organ in Woolsey Hall.

Spin of the double helix at Bryan Owen over at the Creedal Christian.

Faced with crisis, these two girls did what millions of kids do every day. They updated their Facebook statuses. I’m not making that up. There’s no reason to believe something prevented them from calling an emergency operator — which would have gotten a quicker response. Imagine if, say, 37 people had clicked “Like” below their clever status instead of calling the rescue squad. Or what if someone had thought it was a joke? Or what if Facebook was having one of its outages? Sometimes it’s best to do things the traditional way.

Look, I’m as wired as the next person. I’ve been known to text and Facebook and tweet during meetings and while standing in line and…in places I probably shouldn’t fess up to here. (To be clear: I do not carry my iPhone when I am vested for divine worship!) But I know the wisdom of the ancients. To everything there is a season. A time to tweet, and time to email. A time to update your status, and a time to CALL THE EMERGENCY SERVICES.

If you ever face an emergency, dear reader, please do not post a comment here on 7WD or update your Facebook status or upload a Youtube video. Sometimes the best course is to do it the old fashioned way: use your voice and make a telephone call. Add that to the list of things to teach your kids.

P.S. I think the minimum age for Facebook is supposed to be 13, at least in the US.