Author Archives: Rodger Patience

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About Rodger Patience

I am an Episcopal priest, and I am a person in recovery. My aim is to build hope in everything I do.

The Word who is trustworthy

[A bishop] must have a firm grasp of the word that is trustworthy in accordance with the teaching, so that he may be able both to preach with sound doctrine and to refute those who contradict it. (Titus 1:9)

The Episcopal Diocese of Fond du Lac, where I serve as a deacon, is preparing to elect a new bishop. Our bishop, Russ Jacobus, has announced his retirement, and the Standing Committee is working on a diocesan profile so share with those who are eventually nominated. The election will take place in October.

Already this year, we have had several survey days for members of the diocese to discuss what is required (and desired) in a bishop, and what is required of each of us as members of Christ’s Body, the Church.

“Having a firm grasp of the word that is trustworthy …” is an awfully good place to start.

One of the particular treasures of the Daily Office is that it soaks you in Scripture. You can’t help it — as you follow the Daily Office lectionary, you read all 150 Psalms every seven weeks, the New Testament in the course of a year, and the Old Testament over the course of two years.

But even more than that, in the Daily Office you read Scripture in the context of worship, in the context of prayer, in the context of a living relationship with Jesus, the Word who himself is trustworthy.

“I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God,” says John the Baptist in tonight’s Gospel reading (John 1:34).

It’s not just bishops who need to be able to “preach with sound doctrine.” All of us bear witness to the love we have known in Jesus, the love revealed on every page of the Scriptures and in every canticle and collect of the Daily Office.

I have seen and have testified to the Word who is trustworthy. You can trust him, too.

God hates nothing God has made

Pinned Insects

Collect for Ash Wednesday

Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (BCP 217)

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Since late last year, following a serious lack of judgment at a company event, I have been on a disciplinary plan at work and have been seeing a counselor through our Employee Assistance Program.

Having my failings made visible is really uncomfortable — the first image that comes to my mind is an insect pinned to a board — but the process of dealing with the issues openly and with help from other people has led to some long-overdue changes in my life.

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews speaks of discipline in the reading appointed for today.

Endure trials for the sake of discipline … [God] disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share his holiness. Now, discipline always seems unpleasant at the time, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it (Hebrews 12:7, 10-11).

On Ash Wednesday, we rehearse the heart of the Christian message about sin and forgiveness.

God hates nothing God has made, even though we fall short of the mark again and again.

When we confess our sins and get them out in the open, when we allow others to help us deal with our failings, we open ourselves up to receive from “the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness.”

Having received forgiveness, having been trained by discipline (not just once, but as often as it takes!), we in turn extend that forgiveness to those around us.

Yes, we are mortal — ashes to ashes, dust to dust — but we are God’s. “He himself has made us, and we are his” (Jubilate, BCP 83).

God hates nothing God has made, and God forgives the sins of all who are penitent.

Unworthy as I am, you will save me,
in accordance with your great mercy,
and I will praise you without ceasing all the days of my life.
For all the powers of heaven sing your praises,
and yours is the glory to ages of ages. Amen.
(Canticle 14, BCP 91)

 

Children of promise and purpose

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He promised to show mercy to our fathers
and to remember his holy covenant.
This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham,
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
Free to worship him without fear,
holy and righteous in his sight
all the days of our life.
(Canticle 16, BCP 92)

In the passage from Paul’s letter to the Galatians appointed for this morning, the apostle quotes the same passage we read today from the Book of Isaiah.

The prophet uses the image of a childless woman being blessed with children to symbolize Israel’s restoration to God’s favor. Paul extends the metaphor, widening the circle to include “children of the promise,” that is, the Gentiles (Gal. 4:23).

Like Isaac, who was born as a sign of God’s promise to Abraham, the Gentiles are also heirs of that promise. Paul’s extended argument is to remind the Galatians that their hope rests on God’s promise, not on observance of the law. Or, as he puts it elsewhere, “since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:23-24).

In the Collect for Grace, usually read on Wednesday mornings, we not only thank God for bringing us “in safety to this new day” but also go on to ask that he “direct us to the fulfilling of [his] purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord” (BCP 100).

We seek to be “holy and righteous in God’s sight” because of our gratitude at being children of the promise. We then go on to use the gifts God has given us as children of purpose, whose mission is to bring ever more people within the reach of Christ’s saving embrace.

Until Christ is formed in you

At last night’s awards dinner for our sales team, our newly-hired VP introduced himself and invited us to connect what we do with people. When we keep in mind the people we ultimately serve, he said, we will do our work with passion.

My company sells software to hospitals that helps eliminate wasted time and motion and ultimately ensures that people who need a bed can get into it sooner. Whenever we hear the siren of an ambulance — as we did, coincidentally, in the middle of our VP’s address to us — we can call to mind our purpose.

My little children, for whom I am again in the pain of childbirth until Christ is formed in you, I wish I were present with you now and could change my tone, for I am perplexed about you. (Galatians 4:19-20)

One of the reasons Paul’s letters are still such a powerful inspiration some 2,000 years later is the very human voice that shines through. Paul may be boastful, but he is completely dedicated to the task of nurturing his children in faith.

His letter to the Galatians is a window into the mind of a man perplexed that the Galatians seem to be forgetting the freedom he preached in Christ. They are turning back to their old ways, and he cannot rest “until Christ is formed in them.”

What purpose keeps you from resting until the people you serve receive what they need?

If the Son makes you free

Lord, you now have set your servant free
to go in peace as you have promised;
For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior,
whom you have prepared for all the world to see:
A Light to enlighten the nations,
and the glory of your people Israel.
(Nunc dimittis, BCP 120)

The Scripture readings appointed for Morning Prayer on this Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Temple (that’s a mouthful!) all point to the freedom represented by the infant son of Mary and Joseph.

The Psalmist takes us back to the perennial complaint: “Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul, and why are you so disquieted within me?” (Ps. 42:1).

Both Hannah’s song (1 Samuel 2) and Zechariah’s song (Canticle 16, BCP 92) point to a child as the symbol of God’s saving action in the world.

In Hannah’s song, sung in her joy after she has become pregnant, God is the one who “makes poor and makes rich, he brings low, he also exalts. He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts up the needy from the ash-heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor” (1 Sam. 2:7-8).

Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, sings a song to God and to his infant son: “You, my child, shall be called a prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way, to give his people knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of their sins” (BCP 92).

And the one presented in the Temple this day?

As an adult, Jesus invites the Jews who had believed in him to understand that the truth will set them free. The Son, the true Son of God, has come to set all people free from their slavery to sin. Our souls no longer need be heavy. We will know salvation by the forgiveness of our sins.

“So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).

That’s a promise worth singing about!

To listen as those who are taught

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, *
nor your ways my ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, *
    so are my ways higher than your ways,
    and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Canticle 10, BCP 86)

I’m something of a professional know-it-all.

My job is to be the “expert,” helping the sales executives of my company by articulating a vision of patient flow in hospitals and demonstrating how our solutions have helped our clients achieve impressive outcomes.

I’m very good at what I do, and I have been doing it for nearly ten years with this company, both as a client and as a member of the sales team.

In that ten years, though, the company has added many new capabilities, acquired new technologies, and recruited lots of new people who bring their expertise into the mix. Frankly, it’s fun to have so many cool things to present on and talk about.

However, it’s often hard for us “know-it-alls” to become students again. It’s very easy to become so invested in the way you articulate your vision that you can’t hear new ideas. I struggle especially to really listen to how new leaders in the company articulate their vision of what we do.

Copyright Mark Anderson www.andertoons.com

Isaiah the prophet describes this conundrum beautifully:

The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens — wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward. (Isaiah 50:4-5)

For me, this lesson has immediate import. I will be spending all of next week in meetings of our national sales team, where we will be learning about new product offerings and how they integrate (or will integrate) with our current solutions. We’ll even spend a day visiting a client hospital to hear how they use our solutions every day.

I’ll need to “listen as those who are taught” and resist the impulse to “turn backward” into the familiar content I know so well. Many of the people that I hear from next week that will not follow my usual script.

If I can listen carefully, then my new presentations will bear new fruit and my new demonstrations will “accomplish that which I purpose” (to continue Isaiah’s thought in Canticle 10).

Who might you need to listen to this week, setting aside your own ideas so that you can take in a new word? What will keep you from doing this?

Do not fear

But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” (Mark 5)

Mark is an exceptionally skilled storyteller, weaving two stories together here in a cinematic way.

In the press of the crowds, in front of everyone, a proud religious leader suddenly throws himself onto the dusty ground, begging Jesus to help him, heedless of the stares. His daughter is near death, and he will do anything for her sake.

Jesus helps him to stand, and with a gesture says, “Lead the way.”

Unnoticed in the crowd, just as she is paid no mind by anyone, a woman furtively follows Jesus, taking advantage of the distraction. “If I can just touch his robe,” she says, “I will finally get better.”

And then everything stops. Freeze frame. The religious leader’s hands cover his face; the woman’s fingers reach toward Jesus.

JairusHe feels her. “Who touched me?” She panics and falls to the ground. He lifts her up and reassures her, “Your faith has made you well.”

In the same moment, word comes to the religious leader. “Your daughter is dead. Stop crying now, don’t trouble the teacher.”

Jesus stands with him, meeting his slack, tear-stained gaze. “Do not fear.”

Do not fear.

Do not worry what other people think.

Do not hesitate to reach out to Jesus.

He will reassure you.

He will stand with you.

Do not fear.

Coda: In all of the images I looked through I could not find a single one where Jairus was actually kneeling before Jesus, with the exception of one cartoon. Apparently, pictures (by their silence) tell a thousand words. Men’s shame at appearing weak or in need persists.

Do not fear.

No armor needed on the Way of the Cross

Armor_Small

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
(Isaiah 53:7)

It took less than 50 years after the crucifixion of Jesus — the Prince of Peace, the sacrificial Lamb foretold by Isaiah — for the martial language to creep back into the church’s vocabulary.

By the time of the letter to the Ephesians, written somewhere between 62-95 AD, we have this exhortation to believers to “put on the whole armor of God.” Now granted, this is spiritual armor we’re talking about — the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6:14-17). As a metaphor, the image works beautifully to depict discipline and confidence in the spiritual life.

But do you hear the difference?

Jesus went to his death unprotesting, silent before the slaughter. His followers in Ephesus, less than 50 years later, are being urged into an aggressive posture, armed to wage war “not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12).

How much longer, though, until this spiritual aggression is turned against “enemies of blood and flesh”?

Church history tells the story; just 300 more years. In 385, Priscillian, the bishop of Avila, became the first Christian to be executed for heresy by the (Christian) Roman authorities — the church finally had the power of the state behind it to enforce its will.

By a perversion of justice he was taken away.
Who could have imagined his future?
For he was cut off from the land of the living,
stricken for the transgression of my people.
(Isaiah 53:8)

I hear such anger in our religious discourse today that it worries me.

Religious leaders and believers alike denounce other Christians with such violence, and are so heated in their demands that society conform to their desires, that I wonder if our lust for the heat and noise of battle has made us lose our taste for “that peace which the world cannot give” (BCP 123).

I wonder if we have become totally deaf to the silent voice of the crucified Christ urging us to follow him in the way of the cross, which is “none other than the way of life and peace” (BCP 99).

 

I want to know Christ

Who can tell how often he offends?
cleanse me from my secret faults.
Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not get dominion over me;
then shall I be whole and sound, and innocent of a great offense.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight,
O LORD, my strength and my redeemer.
(Psalm 19:12-14)

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul writes “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings” (Phil. 3:11).

Paul is in many ways the model for us modern Christians who “want to know Christ.”

Like him, we rely on the testimony of others rather than having met the living Jesus in person.

Like him, we may have an experience of conversion (though perhaps not as dramatic as his Damascus Road experience), and we may have to spend time figuring out what it means and how we should live in response.

In the daily email “Brother, Give Us a Word” from the SSJE community, Br. David Vryhof writes: “Paul lived for God. His new life was born out of a deep desire to love and serve the God who had claimed him as his own.”

How has God claimed you? What do you desire in your relationship with God? What part of your life might need to be made new?

I have come to know Christ better as I spend time in prayer and the reading of Scripture, particularly as I practice the Daily Office. How do you know Christ in your life? Where do you feel his power and share his sufferings?