Presiding bishop celebrates small church's ministries, helps sea turtle go home

                                         "This says so much about our whole ministry of healing."

Christmas 2010

Christmas 2010


A message from the presiding bishop



By Katharine Jefferts Schori



The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. —Isaiah 9:2



That's how the first lesson of Christmas Eve opens. It's familiar and comforting, as the familiar words go on to say that light has shined on those who live in deep darkness, that God has brought joy to people living under oppression, for a child has been borne to us. The name of that child is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace — and God is bringing an endless peace through an heir to the throne of David (vv 3, 4, 6, 7).



This year we're going to hear a bit we haven't heard in Episcopal churches before, in that missing verse 5. It's pretty shocking, but it helps explain why the hunger for light is so intense, and the joy so great when it comes: "For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire." The coming of this prince of peace will mean the end of all signs of war and violence. An occupied people will finally live in peace, without anxiety about who or what will confront them the next time they go out their front doors.



People in many parts of this world still live with the echo of tramping boots and the memory of bloody clothing. Many Episcopalians are living with that anxiety right now, particularly in Haiti and Sudan. Americans know it through the ongoing anxiety after September 11 and in the wounded soldiers returning to their families and communities, grievously changed by their experience of war. Remember the terror of war when you hear those words about light on Christmas Eve. Remember the hunger for peace and light when you hear the shocking promise that a poor child born in a stable will lead us all into a world without war. Remember the power of light when you go out into the darkness after hearing those words — and pray that you and those around you may become instruments of peace.



Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors! —Luke 2:14



The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori is presiding bishop and primate of the Episcopal Church.

Advent Message

Quote

"The Episcopal Church has been waiting for decades for people to come through our beautiful red doors and then we'll turn them into Episcopalians,....This (mission-based ministry) is about the reverse. It's about leaving those red doors and going out into the community to meet people.....Congregations that focus primarily on Sunday morning ministry are missing a whole lot of people who are looking for community or are looking for the opportunity to worship and study and have fellowship together, but they can't do it on Sunday morning, or they won't do it on Sunday morning."

Presiding bishop discusses courage, challenge and uncertainty of leadership at California women's empowerment conference

"Sometimes the rejection is overt," she added. She described the way she responded when Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams said she could not wear her miter while preaching at Southwark Cathedral in England because women bishops were not yet allowed in the Church of England.

"I was informed before I arrived that I would not be permitted to wear my miter, my hat. I thought, this is pretty ridiculous; I thought I'm not going to offend the dean [of the cathedral], but I'm going to take my miter, I'm not going to let go of this symbol of my office. So I carried it," she said as the gathering cheered and applauded.
More here.

New Book Released

"Happiness means using the blessings of the world for the benefit of all. None of us can be truly happy unless all are happy. In the reign of God, when God rules, when all are in right relationships, we will find the greatest happiness."

KJS and the Dalai Lama amongst others at forum on happiness. Interfaith forum at Emory

KJS, Michelle Obama among speakers at Women's Conference

Story here

Bishop Katharine  is among the large list of business, entertainment, political, jourmalism and religious leaders set to appear at Maria Shriver's conference to empower women.

Great KJS Photo Gallery

This site  has some of the best KJS shots I've seen to date. Her many expressions are caught on film, courtesy of the Diocese of Arizona.

Vigil at the US/Mexico border

Another shares a memory of KJS

I grew up in Corvallis, good friends with Kate Schori (Harris) , daughter of Katharine and to escape the condemnation of my own family I found peace joy at the Schori's home. I continue to battle the stigma of mental illness and other contreversial subjects, but when things get real tough I remember back to when Kate's Mom would wear her gay... friendly button and I receive a brief reprieve. I am writing now to thank The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, for showing me that God is in the detail, sometimes even a button =)

Children's Procession "Marching in the Light of God"

A Conversation with the Presiding Bishop

Interview for NC local news station

http://www.wral.com/news/local/noteworthy/video/7827044/

KJS speaks about "Mitregate", Haiti, the Gulf oil leak,  amongst other topics.

Visit to NZ

"The freedom we have is to choose for those on the margins, to be in solidarity with the friendless and forgotten, the despised and the demonized. Exercising that freedom is almost always challenging – it annoys people who don’t see any need to change the status quo, it offends those in power, it challenges the ways of the world that say, 'me first.'" Visit to NZ story here.

Pastoral Message

The serious and the not so serious KJS

I just felt like putting these 2 photos together! Both great shots, courtesy of the Photos section of the "You Might Be An Episcopalian" Facebook page!

Interview with Bishop Curry

"I was not to wear a mitre at Southwark Cathedral"

Dubbed "Mitregate", reaction abounds after KJS is asked by Lambeth and Rowan Williams not to wear her mitre. Full article here. Some reactions here.

Mitre or no mitre, she still a presiding bishop. I  like this picture. The only kind of smoking that I like.

"Love has saved you – be at peace."

Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori preached June 13 during a service of Holy Eucharist at Southwark Cathedral in London, as part of a five-day visit to the U.K.
You can listen to it here.



The full text of the sermon follows.

I come from a notorious place. Gambling and prostitution are legal in Nevada. Ministry there means that many congregations host 12-step programs not just for alcoholics and drug addicts, but for those addicted to gambling. There are a few groups for sex addicts, too. A story quietly circulated when I was there, about a priest who encouraged the local madams and their employees to visit the churches he served. One congregation made a warm enough welcome that the women of the night returned frequently. Other congregations acted more like Jesus' fellow dinner guests – "who let her in here?" The women didn't return to those dinner tables.




I don't know what it's like in the Church of England, but in some circles the Episcopal Church has the reputation for being a place where you have to dress correctly, and know how to act – i.e., you really should know all the responses by heart, and how to find your way around the several books we use in worship – or you shouldn't even bother walking in the front door. Yes, I'll admit that there are a few places like that, where the local pew-sitters are more afraid than their potential guests, but there are lots more communities where all comers are not just invited, but welcomed with open arms.



I have an old friend, a quirky priest who's been a college chaplain for decades, who tells about the summer he traveled across the United States visiting different churches. He was camping, and didn't get a bath every day, but he talked about what a different reception he'd get when he wore his collar, even when he was grubby. The Bishop of Rhode Island spent part of her last sabbatical learning what it's like to live on the street. She tells about sleeping in homeless shelters in some of her own churches, and then going upstairs to church on Sunday morning. She was never recognized, but she learned a great deal about the welcome and unwelcome of different congregations.



It's hard work to get to the point where you're able and willing to see the Lord of love in the odorous street person next to you in the pew. It can be just as hard to find him in the unwelcoming host.



What makes us so afraid of the other? There's something in our ancient genetic memory that ratchets up our state of arousal when we meet a stranger – it's a survival mechanism that has kept our species alive for millennia by being wary about strangers. But there's also a piece of our makeup that we talk about in more theological terms – the part that leaps to judgment about that person's sins. It's connected to knowing our own sinfulness, and our tendency toward competition – well, she must be a worse sinner than I am – thank God!



That woman who wanders into Simon's house comes with her hair uncovered – "oh, scandal! She's clearly a woman of the street!" And she starts to act in profoundly embarrassing ways, crying all over Jesus' feet and cleaning up the tears with her hair. And, "oh Lord, now she's covering him with perfume! We can't have this in a proper house – what will people think? And I guess now we know just what sort of person this fellow is!"



The scorn that some are willing to heap on others because we think they've loved excessively or inappropriately is still pretty well known. Yet it is this woman's loving response to Jesus that brings her pardon, and Jesus' celebration of her right relationship with God. She doesn't even have to ask. Jesus seems to say that evidence of her pardon has already been given – full measure, pressed down, and overflowing – just like her tears and hair and cask of nard.



It's the same message Jesus offers over and over: "perfect love casts out fear" (1Jn 4:18). It's actually our fear of the wretchedness within our own souls that pushes us away from our sisters and brothers. Fear is the only thing that keeps us from knowing God's love – and we most often discover it in the people around us. Jesus wasn't afraid to eat with sinners, either Simon or the other dinner guests, and he wasn't afraid of what the woman of the city was going to do to his reputation.



The forgiven woman of the city is sister to the prodigal son. They are both our siblings. We can join that family if we're willing to let go of that fearful veneer of righteousness. It covers our yearning to be fully known, because we don't quite think we're lovable. That veneer is the only thing between us and a whole-hearted "welcome home." It's risky to let that veneer be peeled away, but all we risk is love.



That's what Paul is talking about in his letter to the Galatians. He knows that all his work at observing the fine points of the law is like piling up the layers in a piece of plywood. Those layers of veneer may make plywood strong, but in human beings they have to be peeled away, or maybe traded for transparent ones. The layers won't right our relationship with God. Love will. Paul says, "if I build up again the very things that I once tore down, then I demonstrate that I am a sinner." The veneered self simply can't be vulnerable enough to receive the love that's being offered. Can we see the human heart yearning for love in that person over there? Can we recall our own yearning, and find the connection? That's what compassion is – opening ourselves to love.



Practicing compassion rather than judgment is one way the layers start to fly off. Think about all those dinner guests. The party's going to be far more interesting if we can find something to love about the curmudgeonly host and his buddies. Rejecting them is going to shut down any real possibility of compassion. It's risky, yes, but the only thing we risk is our own hearts, and the possibility they'll overflow as readily as that woman's tears. It's a big risk to let the layers go, but the only thing we risk is discovering a brother or sister under the skin.



Jesus invites us all to his moveable feast. He leaves that dinner party with Simon and goes off to visit other places in need of prodigal love and prodigious forgiveness. His companions, literally his fellow tablemates, are the 12 and "some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities." Hmmm. Strong, healthy women, and three of them are actually named here: Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna. Together with many others they supported and fed the community – they became hosts of the banquet.



Those who know the deep acceptance and love that come with healing and forgiveness can lose the defensive veneer that wants to shut out other sinners. They discover that covering their hair or hiding their tears or hoarding their rich perfume isn't the way that the beloved act, even if it makes others nervous. Eventually it may even cure the anxious of their own fear by drawing them toward a seat at that heavenly banquet. There's room for us all at this table, there are tears of welcome and a kiss for the wanderer, and the sweet smell of home.



Want to join the feast? You are welcome here. Love has saved you – go in peace. Lean over and say the same to three strangers: you are welcome here. Love has saved you – be at peace.









--------------------------------------------------------------------------------







I come from a notorious place. Gambling and prostitution are legal in Nevada. Ministry there means that many congregations host 12-step programs not just for alcoholics and drug addicts, but for those addicted to gambling. There are a few groups for sex addicts, too. A story quietly circulated when I was there, about a priest who encouraged the local madams and their employees to visit the churches he served. One congregation made a warm enough welcome that the women of the night returned frequently. Other congregations acted more like Jesus' fellow dinner guests – "who let her in here?" The women didn't return to those dinner tables.



I don't know what it's like in the Church of England, but in some circles the Episcopal Church has the reputation for being a place where you have to dress correctly, and know how to act – i.e., you really should know all the responses by heart, and how to find your way around the several books we use in worship – or you shouldn't even bother walking in the front door. Yes, I'll admit that there are a few places like that, where the local pew-sitters are more afraid than their potential guests, but there are lots more communities where all comers are not just invited, but welcomed with open arms.



I have an old friend, a quirky priest who's been a college chaplain for decades, who tells about the summer he traveled across the United States visiting different churches. He was camping, and didn't get a bath every day, but he talked about what a different reception he'd get when he wore his collar, even when he was grubby. The Bishop of Rhode Island spent part of her last sabbatical learning what it's like to live on the street. She tells about sleeping in homeless shelters in some of her own churches, and then going upstairs to church on Sunday morning. She was never recognized, but she learned a great deal about the welcome and unwelcome of different congregations.



It's hard work to get to the point where you're able and willing to see the Lord of love in the odorous street person next to you in the pew. It can be just as hard to find him in the unwelcoming host.



What makes us so afraid of the other? There's something in our ancient genetic memory that ratchets up our state of arousal when we meet a stranger – it's a survival mechanism that has kept our species alive for millennia by being wary about strangers. But there's also a piece of our makeup that we talk about in more theological terms – the part that leaps to judgment about that person's sins. It's connected to knowing our own sinfulness, and our tendency toward competition – well, she must be a worse sinner than I am – thank God!



That woman who wanders into Simon's house comes with her hair uncovered – "oh, scandal! She's clearly a woman of the street!" And she starts to act in profoundly embarrassing ways, crying all over Jesus' feet and cleaning up the tears with her hair. And, "oh Lord, now she's covering him with perfume! We can't have this in a proper house – what will people think? And I guess now we know just what sort of person this fellow is!"



The scorn that some are willing to heap on others because we think they've loved excessively or inappropriately is still pretty well known. Yet it is this woman's loving response to Jesus that brings her pardon, and Jesus' celebration of her right relationship with God. She doesn't even have to ask. Jesus seems to say that evidence of her pardon has already been given – full measure, pressed down, and overflowing – just like her tears and hair and cask of nard.



It's the same message Jesus offers over and over: "perfect love casts out fear" (1Jn 4:18). It's actually our fear of the wretchedness within our own souls that pushes us away from our sisters and brothers. Fear is the only thing that keeps us from knowing God's love – and we most often discover it in the people around us. Jesus wasn't afraid to eat with sinners, either Simon or the other dinner guests, and he wasn't afraid of what the woman of the city was going to do to his reputation.



The forgiven woman of the city is sister to the prodigal son. They are both our siblings. We can join that family if we're willing to let go of that fearful veneer of righteousness. It covers our yearning to be fully known, because we don't quite think we're lovable. That veneer is the only thing between us and a whole-hearted "welcome home." It's risky to let that veneer be peeled away, but all we risk is love.



That's what Paul is talking about in his letter to the Galatians. He knows that all his work at observing the fine points of the law is like piling up the layers in a piece of plywood. Those layers of veneer may make plywood strong, but in human beings they have to be peeled away, or maybe traded for transparent ones. The layers won't right our relationship with God. Love will. Paul says, "if I build up again the very things that I once tore down, then I demonstrate that I am a sinner." The veneered self simply can't be vulnerable enough to receive the love that's being offered. Can we see the human heart yearning for love in that person over there? Can we recall our own yearning, and find the connection? That's what compassion is – opening ourselves to love.



Practicing compassion rather than judgment is one way the layers start to fly off. Think about all those dinner guests. The party's going to be far more interesting if we can find something to love about the curmudgeonly host and his buddies. Rejecting them is going to shut down any real possibility of compassion. It's risky, yes, but the only thing we risk is our own hearts, and the possibility they'll overflow as readily as that woman's tears. It's a big risk to let the layers go, but the only thing we risk is discovering a brother or sister under the skin.



Jesus invites us all to his moveable feast. He leaves that dinner party with Simon and goes off to visit other places in need of prodigal love and prodigious forgiveness. His companions, literally his fellow tablemates, are the 12 and "some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities." Hmmm. Strong, healthy women, and three of them are actually named here: Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna. Together with many others they supported and fed the community – they became hosts of the banquet.



Those who know the deep acceptance and love that come with healing and forgiveness can lose the defensive veneer that wants to shut out other sinners. They discover that covering their hair or hiding their tears or hoarding their rich perfume isn't the way that the beloved act, even if it makes others nervous. Eventually it may even cure the anxious of their own fear by drawing them toward a seat at that heavenly banquet. There's room for us all at this table, there are tears of welcome and a kiss for the wanderer, and the sweet smell of home.



Want to join the feast? You are welcome here. Love has saved you – go in peace. Lean over and say the same to three strangers: you are welcome here. I come from a notorious place. Gambling and prostitution are legal in Nevada. Ministry there means that many congregations host 12-step programs not just for alcoholics and drug addicts, but for those addicted to gambling. There are a few groups for sex addicts, too. A story quietly circulated when I was there, about a priest who encouraged the local madams and their employees to visit the churches he served. One congregation made a warm enough welcome that the women of the night returned frequently. Other congregations acted more like Jesus' fellow dinner guests – "who let her in here?" The women didn't return to those dinner tables.




I don't know what it's like in the Church of England, but in some circles the Episcopal Church has the reputation for being a place where you have to dress correctly, and know how to act – i.e., you really should know all the responses by heart, and how to find your way around the several books we use in worship – or you shouldn't even bother walking in the front door. Yes, I'll admit that there are a few places like that, where the local pew-sitters are more afraid than their potential guests, but there are lots more communities where all comers are not just invited, but welcomed with open arms.



I have an old friend, a quirky priest who's been a college chaplain for decades, who tells about the summer he traveled across the United States visiting different churches. He was camping, and didn't get a bath every day, but he talked about what a different reception he'd get when he wore his collar, even when he was grubby. The Bishop of Rhode Island spent part of her last sabbatical learning what it's like to live on the street. She tells about sleeping in homeless shelters in some of her own churches, and then going upstairs to church on Sunday morning. She was never recognized, but she learned a great deal about the welcome and unwelcome of different congregations.



It's hard work to get to the point where you're able and willing to see the Lord of love in the odorous street person next to you in the pew. It can be just as hard to find him in the unwelcoming host.



What makes us so afraid of the other? There's something in our ancient genetic memory that ratchets up our state of arousal when we meet a stranger – it's a survival mechanism that has kept our species alive for millennia by being wary about strangers. But there's also a piece of our makeup that we talk about in more theological terms – the part that leaps to judgment about that person's sins. It's connected to knowing our own sinfulness, and our tendency toward competition – well, she must be a worse sinner than I am – thank God!



That woman who wanders into Simon's house comes with her hair uncovered – "oh, scandal! She's clearly a woman of the street!" And she starts to act in profoundly embarrassing ways, crying all over Jesus' feet and cleaning up the tears with her hair. And, "oh Lord, now she's covering him with perfume! We can't have this in a proper house – what will people think? And I guess now we know just what sort of person this fellow is!"



The scorn that some are willing to heap on others because we think they've loved excessively or inappropriately is still pretty well known. Yet it is this woman's loving response to Jesus that brings her pardon, and Jesus' celebration of her right relationship with God. She doesn't even have to ask. Jesus seems to say that evidence of her pardon has already been given – full measure, pressed down, and overflowing – just like her tears and hair and cask of nard.



It's the same message Jesus offers over and over: "perfect love casts out fear" (1Jn 4:18). It's actually our fear of the wretchedness within our own souls that pushes us away from our sisters and brothers. Fear is the only thing that keeps us from knowing God's love – and we most often discover it in the people around us. Jesus wasn't afraid to eat with sinners, either Simon or the other dinner guests, and he wasn't afraid of what the woman of the city was going to do to his reputation.



The forgiven woman of the city is sister to the prodigal son. They are both our siblings. We can join that family if we're willing to let go of that fearful veneer of righteousness. It covers our yearning to be fully known, because we don't quite think we're lovable. That veneer is the only thing between us and a whole-hearted "welcome home." It's risky to let that veneer be peeled away, but all we risk is love.



That's what Paul is talking about in his letter to the Galatians. He knows that all his work at observing the fine points of the law is like piling up the layers in a piece of plywood. Those layers of veneer may make plywood strong, but in human beings they have to be peeled away, or maybe traded for transparent ones. The layers won't right our relationship with God. Love will. Paul says, "if I build up again the very things that I once tore down, then I demonstrate that I am a sinner." The veneered self simply can't be vulnerable enough to receive the love that's being offered. Can we see the human heart yearning for love in that person over there? Can we recall our own yearning, and find the connection? That's what compassion is – opening ourselves to love.



Practicing compassion rather than judgment is one way the layers start to fly off. Think about all those dinner guests. The party's going to be far more interesting if we can find something to love about the curmudgeonly host and his buddies. Rejecting them is going to shut down any real possibility of compassion. It's risky, yes, but the only thing we risk is our own hearts, and the possibility they'll overflow as readily as that woman's tears. It's a big risk to let the layers go, but the only thing we risk is discovering a brother or sister under the skin.



Jesus invites us all to his moveable feast. He leaves that dinner party with Simon and goes off to visit other places in need of prodigal love and prodigious forgiveness. His companions, literally his fellow tablemates, are the 12 and "some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities." Hmmm. Strong, healthy women, and three of them are actually named here: Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Susanna. Together with many others they supported and fed the community – they became hosts of the banquet.



Those who know the deep acceptance and love that come with healing and forgiveness can lose the defensive veneer that wants to shut out other sinners. They discover that covering their hair or hiding their tears or hoarding their rich perfume isn't the way that the beloved act, even if it makes others nervous. Eventually it may even cure the anxious of their own fear by drawing them toward a seat at that heavenly banquet. There's room for us all at this table, there are tears of welcome and a kiss for the wanderer, and the sweet smell of home.



Want to join the feast? You are welcome here. Love has saved you – go in peace. Lean over and say the same to three strangers: you are welcome here. Love has saved you – be at peace.

KJS vs. ABC

Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori has described the decision by Lambeth Palace to remove Episcopalians serving on international ecumenical dialogues as "unfortunate ... It misrepresents who the Anglican Communion is." Story here:

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79425_122744_ENG_HTM.htm

KJS on the Oil Spill in the Gulf

Thoughts on the environment and the interconnectiveness of man and nature and the warnings of abusing the earth, as an oceangrapher and faith leader:
Huffington Post article

The same article here at Episcopal Life.

History being made: 1 female presiding bishop consecrating 2 female bishops!

Diane Bruce, Mary Glasspool consecrated bishops in joyous celebration in Los Angeles diocese. Glasspool is the first openly lesbian to be consecrated a bishop.

"We put her up on a little hill so she can look down at all the plants and protect them and nurture them."

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/81803_122063_ENG_HTM.htm
LOS ANGELES: How does our garden grow? With a blessing from the presiding bishop


Episcopal school spreads hope through community service project

By Pat McCaughan, May 05, 2010



[Episcopal News Service] Each weekday 10-year-old Elena Forbath eagerly looks up to Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori — or at least an image of her — while checking the organic garden at the Gooden School in Sierra Madre, California, in the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles.

"I like to see what's growing big. The squash and tomatoes and Swiss chard are growing like crazy. We already pulled the beets," said Elena during a May 4 telephone interview.



The organic garden project, dubbed the Garden of Hope, afforded Elena and other fifth graders at the K-8 Episcopal-affiliated school lessons in science and the environment, community service and the Millennium Development Goals, and a little bit about the Episcopal Church thrown in for good measure.



That's because the presiding bishop gave them permission to use her image for the garden scarecrow.



"I know she's the head bishop of the Episcopal Church. She's the head bishop over all the other bishops," Elena said. "It's really nice to see her every day."



Marianne Ryan, the assistant head of school, said the idea for the garden grew out of her doctoral thesis project at the Virginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria, Virginia.



"Last summer when I was imagining this project, I thought of Katharine Jefferts Schori," she said during a May 4 telephone interview. "I admire her and thought, being a biologist, she's interested in the environment.



"So we had the fifth graders research her on the Internet. They were excited to learn about her. They thought it was wonderful she was a pilot," Ryan recalled.



"Each student wrote a letter and told her a little bit about themselves and our project and wondered if we could use her likeness as the scarecrow. We sent her pictures of the project. She wrote back a very lovely letter and agreed to be our scarecrow," Ryan said.



"She looks very real," added Ryan.



She said that assembling the scarecrow became a community effort. A local artist, Steve O'Loughlin, created the presiding bishop's face while others pitched in to build a stand, sew the vestments, and even replicate a crozier and mitre.



Bishop J. Jon Bruno of Los Angeles was on hand April 29 to officially bless the garden, with a few sprigs of parsley (from the garden) and holy water. "It worked very well, we were able to get the holy water all the way to the garden," said Ryan.



"The Presiding Bishop had told us her favorite color was blue, so we made her vestments blue, the ribbons around the garden were blue and every 5th grader took part in cutting the ribbon," Ryan recalled.



The presiding bishop good-naturedly agreed to the project, saying in a statement, "I am delighted that Gooden School is encouraging their students to learn more about our interconnectedness with all of God's creation!"



To that end, the garden is already whopping success, said Ted Forbath, Elena's father.



"The kids were so engaged in nurturing their part of the earth and they were so excited about watching the growing process," he said. "Each day when Elena is dropped off at school, she takes us to the garden to see the progress."



He added that the students "are very proud to be helping it to grow. For them, it wasn't about eating the produce, it was about the loving and nurturing and eventual sharing."



And they had an opportunity to do just that, when they loaded their first harvest -- Swiss chard, tomatoes and beets — into cars for a recent field trip to the Ecumenical Council of Pasadena Area Churches (ECPAC).



ECPAC offers a food pantry through its Friends in Deed program, said the Rev. Pat O'Reilly, director.



"We gave them a tour and explained to them how we distribute food, how much we get, why we need the food from the garden," O'Reilly, an Episcopal priest, said during a May 5 telephone interview from her Pasadena office. "We told them that people are just scraping by, that we're trying to prevent people from going hungry and that fresh fruits and vegetables are a treat for them."



O'Reilly said that the food pantry is feeding nearly twice the number of people it did two years ago. In 2008, the agency, a consortium of churches in the Pasadena area, fed 1,300 people a month. "Last month we fed 2,500," she said.



The economic slump has created a ripple effect: "We're finding that grocery stores are ordering less, so they have less surplus to donate," which has affected the agency's ability to serve those in need.



"They told us that because of the garden, people could have fresh vegetables and herbs," said Elena Forbath about her trip to ECPAC. "It's important for them to have healthy food instead of just canned goods. I just hope the garden gets bigger and bigger."



O'Reilly said there's an important lesson for adults, as well as children.



"We all focus on our own little communities most of the time. We think the whole world looks like our community. Often we don't know there are others who live very differently from us and don't have all their needs met.



She said the Gooden School's Garden of Hope is "a model for other schools, other programs and other individuals, to start gardens and to donate their produce. It's an opportunity to do what you love and to help someone else.



"It's important to open the eyes of children at that age because they are full of compassion. It's important to let them know they can make a difference in the daily life of others. That life is about giving and loving and serving and not just acquiring for yourself."



Borrowing the presiding bishop's image for the garden's scarecrow demonstrates the church's support, which is crucial, O'Reilly added.



"After all, this is about fulfilling one of the Millennium Development Goals, to eradicate poverty. It's important that the church backs us up and says we're behind you, that what we need to do as Christians is to love and serve in every way we can, to help each other through this difficult time. I think she's great."



For Elena Forbath, the presiding bishop is more than great. "She's really cool. She has squash and tomatoes and eggplants on her clothes and on her hat is a little jeweled cross.



"We put her up on a little hill so she can look down at all the plants and protect them and nurture them."



-- The Rev. Pat McCaughan is a national correspondent for the Episcopal News Service. She is based in Los Angeles.

Feed My Sheep

WASHINGTON: Presiding bishop visits Welcome Table ministry

By Teresa Hobgood, April 26, 2010
Church of the Epiphany] "Each and every one of you is a shepherd," Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefforts Schori told nearly 150 parishioners, the Welcome Table choir, and homeless men and women gathered to participate the Welcome Table service April 25 at the Church of the Epiphany in Washington, D.C.


Epiphany was one of the presiding bishop's stops during her April 23-25 visit to the Diocese of Washington. She also visited St. John's Episcopal Church in Lafayette Square and St. George's Episcopal Church in St. Mary's County, Maryland.



Though skies were overcast and rain fell gently, the pews inside Epiphany were filled with warmth and light. Focusing much of her sermon on sheep and shepherds, Jefferts Schori said, "Shepherds in the ancient world and even today do hard, dirty work. For Jesus to call himself a good shepherd is sort of an insult. Shepherds weren't people that good Jews came out with in the first century. They did dirty work, and they didn't observe the law. They weren't welcome in the temple."



Noting that people still herd sheep today, the presiding bishop said she comes from Nevada where, at one time, lots of the shepherds were Basque.



"One hundred years ago, they came here from Europe to watch sheep, and they lived out there in the dirt in the desert for months and months on end," she said. "Today, those shepherds come from Peru and places south of us. They are still out there doing that kind of hard work -- making sure the sheep are not eaten by coyotes; that the mother sheep get help with their lambs; that they find pasture and clean water."



Jefferts Schori shared a story in Spanish about a Peruvian shepherd who spent a lot of time on the trail; who had "lot of guts, but no cash." Jesus, the Good Shepherd, she said, "is out there on the trail, doing the dirty work, inviting people to the table, to the feast, calling each one of us by name."



"We need more good shepherds who are willing to go out there and invite everybody to the feast. We need more good shepherds in Congress. We need more good shepherds in schools. We need more good shepherds in the choir. We need more good shepherds on the streets. Each and every one of us is both a sheep and a shepherd," she said.



Toward the end of her homily, Jefferts Schori spoke of the scripture passage in which a voice from heaven describes Jesus as "beloved."



"When Jesus calls us, we are supposed to be able to hear him calling," she said. "Do you hear him when he calls you beloved? Each and every one of us, Beloved? Well, that is what Jesus heard when he was baptized... 'in you I am well pleased.' Beloved, Beloved. Come follow. Gather up your brothers and sisters. Come to the table. Come to the table…Welcome."



Before Epiphany's 8:00 a.m. service, Jefferts Schori spent time with the parish's Bible study class and she engaged a lively group of homeless men and women and other participants in Epiphany's Gospel Art! program, where she accepted drawings from the participants. She also spent time in the kitchen, serving butter-laden grits to nearly 100 homeless men and women and parishioners. She also talked with a group of homeless men in the parish hall, answering their questions about her family and how she became a bishop.



Young people from the Chapel of the Cross, an Episcopal parish in Chapel Hill, North Carolina were also visiting Epiphany during the 8:00 am service and lent their hands with breakfast, Gospel Art! and the Welcome Table choir. More information about the Welcome Table ministry is available here.



-- Teresa Hobgood is a member of the Church of the Epiphany and serves on the Welcome Table Ministry Team.

What do KJS and Barbie have in common?

A woman Episcopal priest (who happens to have dressmaking skills) gave another woman Episcopal priest a homemade gift. The gift was (what else?) an Episcopal Priest Barbie.
The doll has a complete set of vestments for every Church season and function. She has thousands of fans on Facebook. Her church is St. Barbara's-by-the-Sea in Malibu. I find it funny that Rev. Barbie "went" to the Church Divinity School of the Pacific- the same seminary as KJS went to. Boy, that school turns out some fine priests!
While many are having fun with this story, some are working it into Church matters and criticism. KJS gets tied into the Barbie story here.
You can  see more of Rev. Barbie's wardrobe here.
As far as I know, Rev. Barbie and  fellow alumnus KJS haven't met yet. Maybe at the next General Convention?

Maybe she'll show up looking like this?

Easter Vigil Sermon

Easter Vigil


Christ Church, Binghamton, New York

Episcopal Diocese of Central New York

April 3, 2010



The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori

Presiding Bishop and Primate

The Episcopal Church



What are you most afraid of? What wakes you up in the middle of the night? For some here tonight it's probably about where the next paycheck will come from. I have one friend who's just been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and another whose son is in jail for statutory rape. For almost all of us, there is some primordial fear linked to thoughts about our freedom and our own mortality.



Fear can keep us from life and hope, and any possibility of new creation. I've known people who died a lot younger than they probably should have, because they just weren't able to acknowledge that their symptoms were signs of something serious. It was somehow easier to ignore that intuitive knowledge than it was to face the possibility and get more information, like going to the doctor.



We've been haunted this week by the story of an Irish immigrant girl in South Hadley who committed suicide because her classmates taunted her so unmercifully. She saw no hope.



Fear could paralyze the people of Haiti, but they go on, with the help of their friends, working yet one more time to build a society of abundance for all.



Fear could have stopped Martin Luther King that night after his house was bombed. But that experience of violence led him deeper into his conviction that God had something else in mind. He went forward in hope, even though it led to his death 42 years ago in Memphis.



Your own American Civic Association is going forward, even more deeply committed to helping new generations of immigrants and refugees. The deaths here a year ago could have been the end of that work of building community, but the fear engendered in the shootings did not prevail.



We're here tonight looking for hope.



We're here tonight to hear the old, old story of God bringing life out of death, and finding a new way through the fear that so often paralyzes us.



The ancient prophets have two responses to that kind of terror: "fear not, for God is with you," and "learn wisdom." We just heard each of those comfortable words twice. Moses says to his traumatized band, "don't be afraid, stand firm, God will deliver you." Zephaniah says to a much later band of depressed and terrified people, that the day will come when they will hear that “God has turned away your enemies, there’s no need to fear disaster any more. Don’t be afraid, God is with you.”



Isaiah and Baruch both talk about Wisdom -- and it's important to know that Wisdom is a personification of God. If God is the architect of creation, then Wisdom is its builder or crafter, and she's often spoken of as hosting a feast, which is what we hear in Isaiah, "turn in here and get what you need -- wine, milk, bread. Come and feast and return to God." Baruch speaks of befriending wisdom in order to find peace -- or in other words, the absence of fear.



In a few minutes we'll hear the oldest gospel account we have of the Resurrection (Mark). It tells about Mary Magdalene, another Mary, and Salome, coming to the tomb at dawn and finding it empty. The angel tells them, "fear not, he's not here, go find him in Galilee. He's waiting for you there." "Fear not, for God is with you." But they flee the tomb and run away, terrified.



Yet somehow those women at the tomb found the strength and courage to tell their story. They turned in at wisdom's door and discovered peace. We only know the good news of Easter because they told of their frightful encounter. Wisdom's invitation keeps on going out: "turn in here, join the feast, find blessing, life, light, and peace."



We still struggle to find the courage to tell frightening news. My friend who's just gotten the cancer diagnosis announced it in an email blast like this, "It is against my religion to share extremely personal information or to ask anyone for help, but the Universe has sent me a lesson here and it’s time for me to start learning it." I find it intriguing that she'd start that way -- and it's a reminder that religion doesn't always tell good news. I think she means that she wants to be self-sufficient, and not dependent on others. But she goes on to tie it to a sense of being connected to all that is. It's an echo of that ancient teaching, "the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." That "fear of the Lord" is an unfortunate translation in the old King James, because it actually means something more like a "deep awareness of God's otherness" or "being in awe of the Creator's majestic work." Yet it is that sense of awe and connection to all that is that encourages any of us to turn in at Wisdom's door and join the feast.



That's what Jesus did over and over again. He insisted that God's intent is for a feast for all people, not just the rulers of the Roman empire. He healed and fed and welcomed people who had been put out of the feast by religious rules or their own suffering. At the end of his ministry, he turned his face toward Jerusalem and the feast that waited for him there -- a feast he celebrated with his disciples in an upper room, and continued through the ages in the banquet we're going to share here -- but also the feast of his own life, made holy in its offering. He went to Jerusalem to challenge the un-wise, who insist that power, rules of exclusion, and violence rule this world. Jesus offered an alternative kingdom, where all are welcome to the feast, none is excluded, and no one lives in fear or want.



We all hunger for that feast. We search for a link with something or someone beyond our limited or painful or excluded experience. We have a deep yearning to transcend the nothingness of death, to bring meaning into what we most fear.



Fear not, for God is with us. Christ is risen, trampling down death, entering into hell to search for those who can find no way out, going ahead to wait for his disciples. Fear not, and join the feast created before the beginning of the world.

Sermon to the Lexington Diocese, Feb 26, 2010 "Dream the Dream"

Katharine Jefferts-Schori Friday Lexington Diocesan Convention Sermon from Chris Kelley on Vimeo.

More pics- KJS and Church Youth

Someone's encounter with KJS

I met her in Australia, years ago, when she was the Bishop of Nevada - basically, my bishop was making a very public statement to the whole of the Anglican Church in Australia, in his support of women bishops, so invited her out to speak at our diocese's Clergy conference, but being a parishioner of the Cathedral, I was able to hear her preach there too - which was wonderful.

She was wonderful then, and to be honest, my science mad then 5 year old daughter was most impressed with her oceanography background...and in the midst of clergy everywhere after the service, she ignored them to sit and talk science with my daughter.

Well, this is an awkward pairing!

I don't have any info on this poster or who made it up- wish I did!

Surrounded by icons

The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori poses for her portrait after being elected in 2006 as presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church and the first female primate of the Anglican Communion.

Prayer

From 2007- Praying in Zanzibar with Anglican Primates.

Baptism

Nice pic of KJS baptizing a baby. This is from the Vergers' Guild brochure.

Lenten Message 2010

Visit to Haiti after the earthquake

KJS visited the Diocese of Haiti after the devastating earthquake, which leveled many of it's buildings and killed many people. Story below, and link is here.

Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori paid a poignant visit to Port-au-Prince Feb. 8 to survey with Episcopal Diocese of Haiti Bishop Jean Zaché Duracin the devastation wrought by the Jan. 12 magnitude 7.0 earthquake.

After climbing over the ruins of the diocese's Cathédrale Sainte Trinité (Holy Trinity Cathedral), the presiding bishop turned to Duracin and said "You should skip Lent this year; you have already had your Good Friday."
"Yes, we can all sing Alleluias together," Duracin replied, according to the Rev. Lauren Stanley, who accompanied Jefferts Schori on her five-hour visit.
Pointing to some of the cathedral's 13 bells that were visible among the ruins and that appeared to be salvageable, Jefferts Schori said "they will ring again" and that the cathedral "will rise again," according to Stanley.
While at the cathedral, Jefferts Schori and Duracin said prayers at what the Haitian bishop is calling the diocese's "open-air cathedral," which consists of some plastic sheeting stretched over a frame of two-by-fours that shelters some pews rescued from the cathedral ruins.
The two bishops each prayed aloud with those who happened to be at the site. Some of the older women members of the cathedral were combing the ruins for pieces of the building's world-famous murals depicting biblical stories in Haitian motifs. The gathered congregation also sang "How Great Thou Art" in French, Stanley said.
During the visit, Stanley said, Duracin asked her to "tell the world that physically the church is broken, but the church is still there in faith. Our faith is still strong."
She said the bishop asked for the support of Episcopalians everywhere to help Haitians rebuild the structures of the church because that work "will have a positive impact on our faith. It will bring us courage, confidence and a good future."
"We are approaching Lent," Stanley quoted Duracin as saying. "I ask people to be with us in the desert so that on Easter, all of us in Haiti and all the Episcopal Church may sing together in joy: 'Alleluia, Alleluia, the Lord is risen indeed.'"
The trip was also meant for Jefferts Schori and Duracin to talk about the immediate and future directions of the diocese. The presiding bishop assured Duracin that the entire Episcopal Church stood with his diocese in prayer and support, and would continue to do so, according to Stanley.
Stanley is one of four Episcopal Church missionaries assigned to Haiti and the only one who was not in-country at the time of the Jan. 12 quake. Duracin has asked Stanley to help the diocese coordinate offers of relief and recovery made by others in the Episcopal Church, and to tell the diocese's story.
Stanley said part of the discussion in Port-au-Prince centered on how she can continue to assist Duracin and the diocese by splitting her time between Haiti and the U.S. As part of that work, she will continue to help coordinate the work of Episcopalians elsewhere in the church who have interests in or connections with specific places and ministries in Haiti, she said.
Stanley said she was gratified to hear Duracin's confidence in her ability to help the diocese connect more strongly with "our partners who are working together to help God's beloved children in Haiti."
Stanley, who spoke with ENS by phone from Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, after the visit, said that Duracin wanted the presiding bishop to see the extent of the devastation the diocese suffered. While the full extent of damage is still being assessed, it is clear that most of the diocese's churches and schools were destroyed or heavily damaged. The convent of the Sisters of St. Margaret, adjacent to the cathedral, was also destroyed.The lost schools include the Holy Trinity complex of primary, music and trade schools next to the demolished diocesan cathedral, the university and the seminary. A portion of the St. Vincent School for Handicapped Children, also in the Haitian capital, collapsed. Students and possibly staff were killed at some of the schools.
Stanley said that Duracin, Jefferts Schori and she visited the Holy Trinity school complex, the Episcopal University and the survivors' camp on a rocky field at College Ste. Pierre, a diocesan school destroyed by the quake. (The diocese, known locally as L'Eglise Episcopale d'Haiti, is caring for about 25,000 Haitians in roughly 20 makeshift camps around the country. Since the quake, many people have left the capital for the countryside.)
The three also surveyed Duracin's home which collapsed in the quake, trapping and severely injuring his wife, Marie-Edithe. Duracin has told ENS that he is been spending his night sleeping in a tent outside another home that he was having built for his family.
The Rev. Kesner Ajax, head of the diocese's Bishop Tharp Institute of Business and Technology (BTI) in Les Cayes, drove the three around the city. Everywhere they went they saw evidence of destruction and death, Stanley said.
The Holy Trinity music school once housed the country's only concert hall, but now "you can see where it came smashing straight down and there are still bodies of our students in there as well," Stanley said.
Duracin told them that "this is why we cannot just use a bulldozer" to clear the wreckage.
There is a common grave just outside of the Episcopal University and Stanley said they stopped to pray at that grave. One of the lower level classrooms that was destroyed usually had more than 100 students in it, she said, but only nine bodies have been found. People are going through the rubble by hand searching for the dead.
Meanwhile, just outside the university, authorities from a nearby police station have set up an outdoor holding cell for prisoners, Stanley said.
At the diocesan trade school, only the façade is still standing, Stanley said.
"There nothing left except bodies," she said. "We could actually see one body at the ruins."
Stanley said: "It was heart-wrenching to see the city that I love -- to see the things that this church has done for so many years that makes me so proud to be an Episcopalian in Haiti -- totally gone," Stanley said. "It is beyond heart-breaking. I don't have adequate words to describe the devastation."
Jefferts Schori flew to Santo Domingo on Feb. 7 from Havana, Cuba, after being a co-consecrator at the Rev. Griselda Delgado Del Carpio's consecration and ordination as bishop coadjutor of the Episcopal Church of Cuba. The service ended the Cuban church's synod meeting during which a large number of parishes donated money for Haitian Episcopalians, according to Archdeacon Paul Feheley, principal secretary to Canadian primate Fred Hiltz who chairs the Cuba Metropolitan Council. Jeffets Schori and Stanley, who met her in the Dominican Republic capital, flew into Port-au-Prince the next day for the visit.
They brought with them a number of gifts and supplies for Duracin and the diocese, including six episcopal clergy shirts for the bishop that were a gift from the Church Pension Group, three liturgical stoles and 3,000 communion wafers from the presiding bishop, and pants and socks for Duracin and a bottle of Taylor tawny port communion wine from Stanley.
She also gave the bishop an alb and cincture that was purchased by Rhonda Busch, an administrator at Church of the Good Shepherd in Burke, Virginia. The church, where Stanley was priested and which still supports her missionary work, offered a requiem mass Feb. 4 for the victims of the earthquake who were members of the Church of St. James the Just in Pétionville, Haiti. Stanley serves the English-speaking congregation there. "In our culture it is very important that the leader look like a leader," Stanley said. "In the church in Haiti, it's very important that the bishop look like the bishop because when he is properly dressed and properly vested then we know that he can take care of us and we know that we have not been forgotten."
Duracin told Stanley that the bread and wine will be used Feb. 12 during the Episcopal Church's part of the nationwide prayer services planned to mark the one month anniversary of the earthquake.
Stanley also brought with her a nearly 150-year-old brass cross that had once been part of a processional cross used by missionaries. She was given the cross by the Goodson family of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, whose members attend St. Paul's Episcopal Church there. While looking through the rubble at College Ste. Pierre, Stanley said, the presiding bishop found a staff that might have been a short processional cross or a verger's wand and which the three discovered fit the cross perfectly.

Collection of Quotes

Thing She Just Said

Good collection of KJS quotes PDF file

Worth repeating

A lengthy interview for Idaho Public TV, November 27, 2008

Dialogue

KJS on health and wellness

http://www.cpg.org/productsservices/healthplans.cfm

She's an inspiration to eat right, get fit, respect your "temple" so you can be physically and spiritually healthy.

KJS sermon at prayer service for Haiti

Homily at prayer service for Haiti, at Washington National Cathedral here.

"God does not cause suffering or punish people with it, but God is present and known more intimately in the midst of suffering. Above all, we become more human through our broken hearts."

Bishop Katharine and Episcopal Relief and Development react to the Haiti earthquake tragedy

Have "A Wing and a Prayer" for Lent!

A priest and author named the Rev. Lisa Belcher Hamilton  has written reflections and spiritual excercises for Lent by using the book "A Wing and A Prayer." It is a great companion to the book. Although this "study guide" was written a  couple of years ago now, it is timeless and  I plan on using it for Lent this year. There happens to be 40 essays in "Wing"- one for each day of Lent. The idea is to read an essay a day and use the Rev. Hamilton's guide to reflect on the essay and  on your own faith. You can access the page here.

Someone sharing their encounter with KJS:

 I met Bishop Schori in December 08...it was a very profound and proud moment...she is such a soft-spoken yet strong presence in the Episcopal Church.....by the way...she had NO entourage when I met her, she was walking alone from her hotel to the convention center in Riverside, Ca...she stopped to speak to a lady in a wheelchair, ..I waited until she was finished, then I approached, asked if I might speak to her, she said "absolutely, I'd love to speak with you"...I had a private one on one conversation with her that lasted just minutes, but will forever live with me and I treasure our photo taken together. When I addressed her as "Bishop Schori", she said..."Katharine, please, just Katharine". What a woman,what an inspiration, what a gift!! Keep us strong and move us on, Katharine!! God Bless you!

Dynamic Duo: KJS with husband Richard

More pics...just because...

Presiding Bishop receives honorary doctorate in Liberia

Another Degree for KJS!

My Two Bishops

I didn't realize until recently that my bishop (Rodney Michel, Acting Bishop of the Diocese of PA) is in this photo from when KJS was installed in 2006. He's the one near the top right corner, bald with glasses. I am blessed to have met both these great bishops!
LIFE Magazine has some stunning photos from that day in this gallery too: http://www.life.com/search/?type=images&q0=katharine+jefferts+schori&page=1

Presiding Bishop urges Liberian Anglicans to 'help each child in this nation'

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79901_118109_ENG_HTM.htm

You Tube series where KJS answers questions from clergy- very good!