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Newsletter of the
Anglican Province of
Christ the King
March, 2024
The Most Rev. Blair Schultz
The Right Rev. D. M. Ashman, Editor
The Rev. Gordon Hines, Publisher
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All Saints’
Bolingbrook, Illinois
Christmas: Then
(2002) and Now (2023)
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Well Done Thou
Good
and Faithful
Servant
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On December 15, 2023, Archbishop
Schultz, assisted by Bishop William Wiygul,
Bishop Benton Jones, Father Shannon Clark and other Diocese of the
Atlantic States clergy, presided over the funeral mass of the Reverend
Canon Michael Church at the Church of Holy Comforter in Montevallo,
Alabama.
Canon Church was buried at
Alabama National Cemetery in Montevallo. Officials wouldn't let people
get near the grave-site for the burial for safety reasons until after the
burial.
The Archbishop pronounced the
committal at a shelter away from the grave which is customary in military
cemeteries. There was also a military ceremony.
In a touching moment, the flag
was presented to Sarah Church by Lt. General Jeffery Buchanan. General
Buchanan served under Canon Church when General Buchanan was Lt.
Buchanan.
There
were a couple of other generals that had either served under Canon Church
or under whom Canon Church had served.
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Canon Edward
Jones Organizing
a Mission in
Dallas, Texas
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Canon Edward Jones is shown here
receiving a bouquet of flowers from a group of Nigerian Anglicans who
hope to revive old Saint Mary’s Parish which used to be in Plano, just
north of Dallas, TX.
Canon Jones used to serve at
Saint Mary’s before he was called to Saint Nicholas Church in Scottsdale,
AZ.
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A Homily for
Epiphany III
From January 21,
2024
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A man and his dog were walking along a
beach. As they walked along, they met another man coming toward them. The
other man showed an interest in his dog, so after talking for a few
minutes, he had the dog show off for the stranger. He had him sit, speak,
and shake. And then he said, “Watch this!” Then he tossed a piece of
driftwood far out in the ocean. He told his dog to fetch. The dog ran on
top of the water to fetch the piece of wood! His paws were the only part
of him getting wet. After reaching the stick the dog came running back. Again he was running on top of the water! He dropped
the stick at his master’s feet. The stranger was shaking his head in
disbelief. He just stood there speechless. But the owner of the dog
couldn’t take it anymore. He asked, “Well, aren’t you going to say
something? What do think of him?” Finally the
man responded, “I notice your dog can’t swim!”
Of course it seems crazy to think
that someone could miss seeing something so impressive and focus on
something far less impressive. Does that ever happen to us? Perhaps when
it comes to Jesus’ miracles we are like that man. The Bible puts
something amazing and supernatural right in front of us and we miss it.
Or because we have heard about them many times and read about them many times
we discount the miracles as not being all that important. We acknowledge
that Jesus did them. But we miss their meaning.
In the Gospel Lesson for this Sunday, we
heard about the first miracle that Jesus performed. We are at a wedding
in Cana of Galilee that Jesus, along with his mother and the disciples,
is attending. At this wedding, however, the couple runs out of wine to
serve their guests. Running out of wine for one’s guests was a serious
embarrassment. It was a great cause of shame for the couple because this
lack of wine implied that they did not have enough money to serve the
people they had invited. In other words, this was an impending disaster
for the whole family.
By the way, notice that our reading begins
with the statement that this was “on the 3rd day”. That would make it
Tuesday, based on the Hebrew week which began on Sunday. The “3rd day”
was chosen as the wedding day in ancient Judaism because it was only on the
3rd day of creation that God said “It was good” twice (in Genesis 1
verses 10 and 12). The day was considered by the Hebrew people to be
twice blessed. Also, practically speaking, Tuesday was a perfect day for
their weddings which gave the guests time to get there after the Sabbath
and remain for the several days of the wedding feast.
When the wedding couple ran out of wine,
Mary was the first to notice. So she turned to
the one person she knew could help: that would be her son, Jesus. When
Mary turned to Jesus and told him the couple had run out of wine, Jesus
responded: “O woman, what have you to do with me? My hour has not yet
come.” Have you ever wondered why he said that? To our modern
English-speaking ears it may sound a little
harsh, like he’s rebuking his mother. But based on Mary’s response, we
know this is not the case. She received his response in a positive light,
telling the waiters nearby: “Do whatever he tells you.” Jesus immediately
fulfilled her request, and He did so with great abundance! So that leaves
us with the question, what is the meaning of these seemingly harsh words?
Jesus responded by addressing his mother as
“woman.” Men, try that with your mother or your wife! Try saying:
“Woman! When will dinner be ready?” Or: “How was your day, woman?” Not a
good idea. In the Bible, there is no mention of a son addressing his
mother as “woman.” Jesus calls other people “woman,” like the woman at
the well and Mary Magdalene, but this is the first time we’ve seen it
attributed to a mother. Jesus must have had a woman in mind - perhaps a
woman like Eve. In Genesis 3:15, there is the very first prophecy of
the Messiah, when God is speaking to the devil after the fall. God said:
“I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and
her seed; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”
So when Jesus called Mary
“woman,” it was a title of great honor, recognizing Mary as the new Eve;
the woman that will bear the Messiah into the world. This, by the way, is
also why Mary is often depicted with a snake under her foot, to reflect
this prophecy.
After this response to Mary, Jesus said, “My
hour has not yet come.” This theme of the “hour” is meant to reflect the
hour of Christ’s Passion: his suffering and death. We can see this in
John 12:27, when Jesus spoke about his death after entering Jerusalem. He
said: “Now My soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save Me
from this hour’? But for this purpose I came to
this hour. Father, glorify Your name.” But the most important key to
understanding this response is found in the very middle of these two
phrases.
Jesus asked Mary the question, “What is this
to you and to me?” In Greek, it is “ti emoi kai soi.” The
Greek very closely and accurately reflects the Aramaic idiom Jesus used -
meaning, “What do we have in common if I do this?” This phrase describes
two people looking at the same thing, but with different perspectives. So when Mary came to Jesus saying, “They have no
wine!” Jesus explained to Mary, that the need for more wine meant one
thing to her, but to Jesus, it meant something else.
I think the Passion Translation of the Bible
gets is right, and makes this all very clear. It reads as follows: Mary
asked, “They have no wine. Can’t you do something about it?” Jesus
replied, “My dear one, don’t you understand that if I do this, it won’t
change anything for you, but it will change everything for me! My hour of
unveiling my power has not yet come.”
Mary viewed providing more wine as a
compassionate act of love towards the couple. But it would change her
very little. Jesus, on the other hand, knew that if he provided more
wine, this would be the first miracle he had ever performed. This would
be the beginning of his public ministry, and it would be the beginning of
His road to the cross.
Mary knew for thirty years what would come
once Jesus started his ministry. In the temple, when Jesus was just a
baby, the prophet Simeon told her that once Jesus’ ministry started, he’d
be hated, misunderstood, and killed. Even more, she knew for thirty years
that her heart would be pierced with a sword as he suffers the agony of
his Passion.
This is recorded in Chapter 2 of Luke’s
Gospel: Simeon took Him up in his arms and blessed God and said: “Lord,
now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, According to Your word;
For my eyes have seen Your salvation which You have prepared before the
face of all peoples, a light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, And the
glory of Your people Israel.”
And Joseph and Jesus’ mother marveled at
those things which were spoken of Him. Then Simeon blessed them, and said
to Mary, “Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and rising of many
in Israel, and for a sign which will be spoken against (yes, a sword will
pierce through your own soul also), that the thoughts of many hearts may
be revealed.”
And then, even with this full knowledge of
what this miracle would mean for Jesus and for her, Mary still said
“Yes!” She continued without hesitation, turning to the waiters, saying:
“Do whatever he tells you.” Mary launched Jesus into his ministry,
knowing that at that moment she was letting go of her son. What
would you have done in this situation? Would you have been able to say
“yes” just as Mary did, not even thinking about what it may cost you?
Let’s pray that we can better imitate Mary’s
response every day, saying “yes” to whatever the Lord asks of us, even if
it leads to our own cross.
by Father David St. John
St. George’s Parish, Las Vegas NV
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Passion Sunday,
St. Patrick's Day
March 17th
Journal Entry
by Christine
Sunderland
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Happy St. Paddy’s Day! And
Passion Sunday. And the Fifth Sunday in Lent. We journey together within
the Passion of Christ, to Palm Sunday, Holy Week, and Easter,
Resurrection Day. My bishop of blessed memory often said
that passion is the union of love and suffering. At the age of 76, I
think I am beginning to know what he meant.
Our hills are Irish green, the
sunlight drenching them in color. By May they will be summer brown and we
will hear the weedwhackers shaving the hills, cutting the grass down, for
now the grass is weeds.
St. Patrick (372-466) did the
opposite, he turned the dry weeds of Ireland into the green grass of
faith, much as Our Lord does with each one of us. Before belief we are
dry and parched. After belief we are green and growing. As one of my characters
says, "My life is now divided in two - before belief and after
belief." And once tasting the joy of believing, there is no turning
back.
I am at times overcome with
gratitude to God that I have been blessed with belief. Why, I don't know.
Why others don't follow the same path to joy, I can't fathom. But then, I
tell myself, it's not my business - it's God's business and theirs, and
all I can do is witness with my life and my words. Each one of us must
decide the path they want to take. It's called Love; it's called free
will.
St. Patrick was not born in
Ireland, but in Britain. He was enslaved as a boy by a trading ship and
taken to Ireland. Wikipedia says,
"According to Patrick's
autobiographical Confessio, when he
was about sixteen, he was captured by Irish pirates from his home in
Britain and taken as a slave to Ireland. He writes that he lived there
for six years as an animal herder before escaping and returning to his
family. After becoming a cleric, he returned to spread Christianity in
northern and western Ireland. In later life, he served as a
bishop, but little is known about where he worked. By the seventh
century, he had already come to be revered as the patron saint of
Ireland." (Italics mine)
Remarkable, that he returns to
the land of his enslavement and preaches the Gospel. In doing so, he
forges the link between Classical Civilization and what becomes Western
Civilization.
Today, all this is severely
threatened, as we head down the road to extinction. Even so, there are
quiet links doing their linking, preserving what needs preserving, saying
what needs saying, writing what needs writing. There is one here and one
there and another one farther afield. Why, there is a network forming
underground that none of us can see, but, then again, it is you and it is
me.
I often wonder who is pulling
the strings, whispering hints, pointing in directions, if anyone, from
above. Angels? I play what-if... What if when we enter Heaven we are
given one last chance to visit a loved one? Then we journey further to
the gates of the city, over the brilliant green hills to the bright light
of the walls of gemstones. What if some have a love that is great enough
to influence us on earth a little longer? Perhaps the saints who listen
to our prayers. Perhaps a mother willing to forgo instant heavenly
delight to help a child maneuver further in life? What if love is the
medium shows us the goings on on Earth? How
much love is in our hearts? Love that we are willing to give away, to
suffer for another?
I've enjoyed writing a bit
about Heaven in my current novel, as I did in Angel Mountain, using
theological texts as well as Near Death Experiences. I don't make things
up from whole cloth, but journey into the what-ifs that are presented by
other witnesses.
Maybe it's the Irish in me
dancing this jig, telling this tale. While most of my ancestors are
either Norwegian or British, I have some Irish (5%) on my paternal
grandmother's side. It appears her grandparents came from Ireland mid 19th Century (potato famine would be a good
guess) to Ontario, Canada and settled just above Lake Michigan. They had
many children, and several adult grandchildren eventually crossed into
the U.S. Somehow my grandmother met my grandfather in a town farther
south, Escanaba, where she lived, and he took her to Arkansas where my
father was born.
I never knew my paternal
grandmother. She died before I was born. I did, however, inherit her
first name as my middle, Gertrude.
One way or another, I'm glad
St. Patrick returned to Ireland. It made all the difference in our world.
St. Patrick is said to have
authored Hymn #268, "I bind unto myself to-day/ The strong Name of
the Trinity/ By invocation of the same/ The Three in One, and One in
Three. It covers the Faith in five verses that ride a powerful melody of
serious commitment, a binding, an oath taking. Then the tune shifts to a
light dance calling on Christ to be "with me, within me, behind me,
before me, beside me, to win me, to comfort and restore me, beneath me,
above me, in quiet, in danger, in hearts of all that love me, in mouth of
friend and stranger." It's a hymn, an oath, to the Trinity, one of
the doctrines developed by the Early Church and debated. It clearly is a
teaching hymn as most were and are, full of theology, images, words, all
helping us understand who we are and who we are meant to be.
Thank you
St. Patrick, for your life and your love and your gift of Christ
to Ireland. You made a difference, a huge difference in our world.
And Grandma Gertrude Lilian
Foster Thomas, I love you.
CHRISTINE SUNDERLAND is a
well-known novelist from the San Francisco Bay Area. Her stories, set in
Europe, Hawaii, and California, draw from the past but take place in the
present, dealing with themes of love, suffering, faith, family, and
freedom. She is a member of the Anglican Province of Christ the King.
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Well Done Thou
Good
and Faithful
Servant!
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On February 19th, friends,
parishioners and family of Mr. Paul Lambach
gathered at Saint Matthew’s Anglican Catholic Church in Newport Beach, CA
to attend the requiem mass for one of the pioneers of our movement. Paul
and his wife Marilyn were members of old Holy Apostles Episcopal Church
in Glendale, CA and helped lead the vote to secede from the Episcopal
Diocese of Los Angeles in 1977 helping to begin our Continuing Church
Movement. The Lambachs later became members of
Church of Our Saviour and the Holy Apostles in
Glendale and Los Angeles. Paul served on many vestries and was many times
both Junior and Senior Warden. Paul served in the navy during the Vietnam
War and saw much combat in patrol boats along the rivers of Vietnam. Paul
leaves his wife Marilyn, his daughter Susan and her husband Lloyd; and
son Randall and his wife Kathy; four grandchildren (Carl, Katie, Kara and
Anika) and two great grandsons (Luke Isaac and Jeremiah Paul).
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Arizona Regional
Clericus
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Saint Albans
Church,
Peoria, Arizona
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Today is Passion Sunday, the beginning of
the final two weeks of Lent. The cross is veiled as the church
descends into a solemn sadness. We cover our holy images as though
to hasten the sacrifice and death of the Incarnate God, the Messiah, Jesus
Christ. We try to capture this cosmic event in history with the
beautiful English word Passion.
Over my bed is a crucifix. I like to
meditate on its revealed mystery of God, its
more than perfect self-giving love. Passion is the union of the
words, love and suffering. Contemporary man avoids both, for love
which involves suffering, loss, and closeness. Today the essence of
the word passion is replaced today by its opposite, cool, to be detached
indifferent, apart. Passion cannot be sustained in life apart from
God. Nor can love.
Behold the Lamb of God, the Christian
Passover. The meaning of the word Passover is the death of the
Messiah on Good Friday.
In the Canon of the Mass, at the moment of
Consecration the words are repeated, “Do this in remembrance of me.”44 Words
change meaning over time with usage. The word remembrance is best
expressed today as a re-calling into the present, into the now. In
every Mass we offer we re-present the sacrifice and death of Christ, His
Passion.
In every Eucharist we enter into eternity,
and for a moment we are inspired to love. This is why we go to Mass,
for in each Liturgy in which we participate we enter the Passion of
Christ. In our Communion we are made one with Him.
St. Francis said that we should not be
afraid of death for it is our way to God. The Christian Faith sees
beyond the tragedy of the Cross to the glory of God revealed in the empty
tomb of the living Christ, the affirmation of life. We who bear our
crosses, endure suffering and death, are no longer alone for Christ
shares them with us. This is part of the Atonement and the essence
of our receiving Holy Communion that “he may dwell in us, and we in
him”45 In the silence of Easter dawn, long before the birds
celebrate its new light, we share the hope for Heaven and in Christ the
vision of God.
Reflecting on this mystery of Passiontide I
am reminded of the French Carmelite nun, Teresa of Lisieux, who died on
September 30, 1897, in a cloistered convent in Normandy at the age of
twenty-four. She lived a life of complete surrender to God. She
suffered from tuberculosis, and at the end was caught in the silence of
doubt and pain. Yet over her tomb god mosaics proclaim her last
words, “My God, I love Thee.” Nothing had touched her love for God.
This is the point of Passiontide, that life
will end in resurrection.
This Homily was given by the
late Archbishop Robert Morse in 2006 at St. Thomas Anglican Church in San
Francisco, CA
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Anglican
Province of Christ the King
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