November 11, 2011 marks 14,208 days since I became a prisoner of war in North Vietnam.  At 1313 Greenwich Mean Time on 18 December 1972, in the skies over Hanoi, my B-52 was hit by a Soviet-built SA-2 missile.  Some say that the number 13 is an unlucky number. In fact, this is almost a worldwide belief. You will rarely see a room numbered 13, or any hotels or motels with a 13th floor.  Perhaps 1313 was not a good number for me, and it certainly was not a good number for my three crewmembers killed that night.  But I was fortunate – I lived, survived, and continue to live.

But, look at the back of a one-dollar bill and think about  this:

• 13 original colonies
• 13 signers of the Declaration of Independence
• 13 stripes on our flag
• 13 steps on the Pyramid
• 13 letters in the Latin above (annuit coeptis): “God has favored our undertaking.”
• 13 letters in “E PLURIBUS UNUM”
• 13 stars above the Eagle
• 13 plumes of feathers on each span of the Eagle’s wing
• 13 bars on that shield
• 13 leaves on the olive branch (we are a people of peace)
• 13 fruits, and if you look closely
• 13 arrows (we must sometimes fight to win the peace)
• And for minorities: the 13th Amendment.

Why don’t we know this? Your children don’t know this and their history teachers don’t know this.  Too many veterans have given up too much to ever let the meaning fade. Many veterans have endured extreme torture and deprivation at the hands of America’s enemies. Many veterans remember coming home to an America that didn’t care. Too many veterans never came home at all. But all of them – the returning soldier, airman, marine, sailor – the Prisoner of war and those whose fate is known to God alone fought to defend the Constitution of the United States against foreign enemies.

Whenever you look at a one-dollar bill again, think of the veteran who fought to win and sustain our freedom, who gave a part of his life for the freedom of our allies, who placed himself between his beloved home and war’s desolation. Tell everyone what is on the back of the one-dollar bill and what it stands for, because nobody else will.

God bless the veteran; God bless you; and God bless America.

In the past decade, men and women of faith have had very troubled hearts as we have witnessed the
terror, warfare and economic upheaval that beset so much of the world. Our troubled hearts come from events in our personal lives, in our health or our family’s health, in the economy or in the headlines. In times of trouble and
distress we often turn to God for a sign to show us the way, to show us what we should do. What is our purpose as God’s people, other than simply to offer time for worship on a weekly basis? What more should we be doing? How do we follow God’s way? How do we do the Lord’s work in this place?

We don’t have to go far in metropolitan Atlanta to find massive pockets of poverty — not just physical poverty, but spiritual poverty. Men and women of faith are called as a people of God, to exhibit his love in needy places, just as we do in our homes, our neighborhoods and our parish.

There are so many things that we can do to care for each other within the family of the household of God, and to care for our extended family, friends and neighbors. Beyond that, we are to care for the strangers in our midst, the sojourners who come for a while to work or to seek rest.

It is an imperative of the Church to care for the young people and children who are just now coming to know the Lord, making sure that behind us there will be never-ending generations of the faithful to tell of the love of Christ. We are to raise the youth, the children, the teenagers, and the young adults in our community to know the Lord who has meant so much to us in our lives. We are to nurture the adults who are searching to find more in their lives than whatever it is we have known and done so far — searching to fill the God-shaped hole in our hearts that can be filled only by the Holy Spirit.

In other words, we are called to be who we already are, a holy people, a royal priesthood, members of the household of faith. It is you and I that do God’s work to proclaim his love in this world in which we live.

During the 1970s, as the Episcopal Church was struggling with the revision of the Book of Common Prayer, some of the many changes occurred in the Baptismal liturgy. For the past forty years the Church has had the marvelous gems of this particular liturgy to teach us something about reconciliation. Unfortunately, in those same forty years, the Church has suffered division, discord, and fractures. I believe we as descendants of the Elizabethan Settlement have missed some very important lessons. I also believe we can “repent and return to the Lord” as we seek to know God’s reconciling love in our lives and in the life of the Episcopal Church, including its estranged sisters and brothers.

In every baptismal service for four decades – after the candidate has renounced cosmic, institutional and personal evil and promised to accept, trust, and follow Jesus Christ – we have promised to do all in our power to support the newly baptized in his or her life in Christ. It is hard to see how we have kept that promise when we have also taken to calling each other names, impugning each other’s devotion, breaking fellowship with one another, and arguing with each other in civil court.

After making that auspicious promise, we have then recommitted ourselves to the baptismal covenant as the soon-to-be-baptized makes that commitment for the first time. Among other things, we have promised to seek and serve Christ in all persons … even those who differ with us politically and theologically. We have promised to love our neighbor as ourselves … even those who irritate us with their piety, their practices, and their opinions. We have promised to respect the dignity of every human being … even ultra liberals and ultra conservatives and everyone in between. And to top it all off, we have welcomed the newly baptized and invited them to share with us in Christ’s eternal priesthood, even when we fail to understand how that priesthood takes shape in individual lives.

St. Paul, who apparently had to address much of the same divisiveness in first-century Corinth, reminds us that difference is vital for wholesome unity. In I Corinthians 12, particularly verses 12-26, he speaks of the tissues, organs, and systems in a human body as an analogy for the way in which the Church is to find unity – it takes all of them in their various specializations to make up a full and healthy body. If any organ is ill, the whole body is ill, so it is in the best interest of all to make sure that each is sound.

It is my fondest hope that I will live to see the Church I love and have served for nearly six decades be an example to all Christians everywhere of the promise of reconciliation. We’ve had our fight. Now it is time to brush off our cassocks, to respect our differences and to do all in our power to support and uphold each other in our life in Christ.

This childhood taunt may be correct on one level, but is completely wrong on another. Young children discover quickly the stinging nature of harmful words, whether from their peers or from adults. Words like “You’ll never amount to anything” can not only hurt for a moment, but can form a child’s lifelong self-image. Bruises may not be seen, bones may not be broken, blood may not be drawn, but harm is nevertheless done. Parents and teachers should be careful about the words used with children and teens; maturing young adults must learn to be careful with one another; all citizens would do well to “walk a mile” before criticizing other citizens. Years ago I learned that it takes fourteen compliments to undo one criticism, especially with younger people. And since no one can take back words once spoken, all of us would be wise to use only those words that build up.

In recent decades, various members of the Episcopal Church have stooped to the childish ways of name-calling. Conservatives refer to liberals as heretics, liberals refer to conservatives as antagonists, and the list goes on. I hardly think that such name-calling is of the Spirit; and I do know that it has done significant harm to the Church. St. Paul admonishes Christians to live in unity even in the midst of our differences of opinions and points of view. He reminds us that it takes all kinds to make up the Body of Christ (I Corinthians 12), and that dismissing one another, because we have different functions and purposes, is foolish.

In families and in the Church we all have a responsibility to hold each other accountable for our beliefs, words and actions; and we all have a responsibility to set examples for others to follow. When we hold another accountable, we do not have to resort to name calling, but rather speak the truth in love. When we are held accountable, we do not have to walk away, tossing verbal hand grenades over our shoulder, but rather strive to hear the hard truth calling for repentance, change and reconciliation. Too often, people who think they are setting good examples are understood to be doing or saying the exact opposite. When that happens, we need to change what we do or say in order that our intended example may be received.

As Christians we are called to be a people of the Great Commandments and the Great Commission. While I am sometimes discouraged that we are not living either of them very well, I am convinced that we must try. When we fail, we are to let the Lord pick us up and dust us off so that we can continue on the journey of reconciliation.

Lent 2011 begins on Ash Wednesday, March 9. Each year, the Prayer Book invites us “to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.” As Jesus puts it, we are to deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow him.

As you ponder what you will “deny yourself” this Lent, or what “cross” you will take up, don’t make it just another rehash of your already broken New Year’s resolutions. I would love to deny myself about 20-30 pounds – and might even consider it a “cross” to take up the diet and exercise program that would make that happen. Alas, such an exercise would be all about ME, and not about discipleship. Several other options ran through my mind, but all with the same conclusion … a good Lenten discipline really needs to be about Christian discipleship, not about self-improvement.

So, I then thought about putting my self-denial and cross-bearing in the context of the Baptismal promises, the Great Commandments and the Great Commission, and lo and behold, came up with some possibilities that might actually make this Lent holy:

• Deny myself the pleasure that comes from reading great novels, biographies, and histories … and take up the cross of reading an equally great spiritual and/or theological book
• Deny myself the uncommon comfort of a regular time of prayer and reflection … and take up the cross of going on the clergy pre-Lenten retreat
• Deny myself the “pleasure” of thinking about the splinter in someone else’s eye … and take up the cross of a rigorous self-examination
• Deny myself some grudge or grievance … and take up the cross of reconciliation
• Deny myself a few private hours during the season … and take up the cross of spending time with someone who is lonely or lost
• Deny myself the comfort of believing that a neighbor or social friend is free to stay home on Sunday morning if they want … and take up the cross of inviting that person to know Christ and his Church

I will also spend some days fasting, not so much to lose weight, but to make myself more aware of the millions in our world who hunger physically as well as spiritually. I will also send some money to Christian causes, but not because I am uncomfortable with my own tithe, but because there is so much need in the world and I have been blessed with so much that simply begs to be shared.

So what will it be for you this Lent? Will you give up chocolate, movies, or refined sugar? Or will you give up those things that really do keep you from answering the Lord’s call to discipleship? As we read in the Prayer Book, open your hearts to God’s grace and truth that you may be filled with his holy and life-giving Spirit. Then make good choices about self-denial and cross-bearing in your Lenten discipline that you may follow the One who has called you to new life.

One of my favorite stories about the way in which Satan deters Christians from working for the Kingdom of God on Earth is this:

Satan, frustrated with the continued devotion of Christians, called this three chief devils to offer suggestions about how to undermine the Church and to stop the forward movement of Christ’s work.

The first devil said, “I’ll tell them there is no Heaven. That will lead them to despair.” But Satan responded, “I’m afraid that will not work. Whenever parents see a newborn baby, or whenever anyone sees the Milky Way on a dark night, they will know that there must be a Heaven.”

The second devil said, “Then I will tell them there is no Hell. That will take away their reason to seek the lost.” Again Satan responded, “That won’t work, either. Whenever they experience war, floods, or any other overwhelming disaster, they will be convinced of the existence of Hell.”

The third devil timidly offered, “How about if I tell them there is no hurry?” “Ah,” beamed Satan, “That will work!”

The idea that there is no hurry is one of the greatest stumbling blocks we face in the church. We fall over it in so many ways … in retiring loans, making safety improvements to church property, hiring needed staff, making positive changes. We also operate under this assumption when it comes to inviting others to join our fellowship, share our worship, build our membership, or improve our community. And when it comes to being reconciled with one another, to making amends for wrongs we have done, to repairing the damages we have inflicted – then we seem to actually embrace the “no hurry” lie as though it was the Gospel truth.

We would all do well to adopt a strong sense of urgency about the Kingdom of God on Earth. We really do need a sense of urgency to put our financial house in order, to open our doors to any and all who are seeking to know Christ, to care for the injured and infirm in our parish, to make our community a more Christ-like place to live, to reconcile all who are torn or broken by strife. As we work to establish the Kingdom in our lives we can contain the works of darkness with the Light of Christ.

Perhaps, if we adopt the daily use of the prayer of St. Francis (BCP, p. 833), we will see multiple opportunities for urgency: “Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there in doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.” Even a casual observation of modern society reveals plenty of work to do – important work that begs to be done NOW.

The Kingdom of God is not “out there somewhere awaiting the Second Coming of Christ”. It is here, now, in your heart and mine, awaiting only our sense of urgency to reveal it.