Wandering Christian

Celebrant: The Lord be with you.
People: And also with you.
Celebrant: Lift up your hearts.
People: We lift them up to the Lord.

How many times have you heard those sentences, either said or chanted? I bet many! This short dialogue, which is at the beginning of (most) eucharistic prayers, is also known by its Latin name: sursum corda (which means literally “lift up the hearts”).

But why this concern with hearts? Conventionally, they have always been linked with emotions: fear, love, anger, sadness, joy and so many other feelings that literally make the heart ache, beat faster, or enlarge. Recently, scientists have learned that those emotions actually are much more related to the nervous system than to the heart per se. However, to the common folk (including myself), the heart is still directly linked to feelings.

We cannot ignore, though, that the heart plays a big role in our own state of health. It is regarded as one of the most critical organs in human bodies. Its main function is to pump oxygenated blood throughout the whole body, with a special emphasis on the brain. It is so important to the preservation of life, that after a cardiac arrest, death can occur within a very short period of time. The heart, therefore, is central to human health, and one would logically conclude that lifting it up to the Lord should mean more than emotional and spiritual fitness; it should also include one’s physical fitness as well, as we are presenting our entire selves to God in the Eucharistic offering.

Given that fact, how do we promote the physical wellness of people in our churches? Certainly there has been an emphasis on campaigns which focus on certain epidemic diseases, as well as and relief and development campaigns during times of disaster. But, how much has the Church contributed to the preservation of health for the average pew-sitter? What is the Church doing to promote the best physical state, with a decent quality of life, so that they are able to fully contribute to the building of God's kingdom?

In our case, some has been done, but not enough. As time passes by, we get saddened to see an increased number of brothers and sisters with severe diseases – many of which could have been prevented. Such conditions are often the results of modern life and could affect any of us. As life passes by, and sursum cordae are recited, what have we done to lift up everybody's hearts and provide quality of life to all?

Surely you all have been heard that depression is the “21st Century's disease”. But between well-organized liturgies, with vested choirs and stiff acolytes, how much time has been dedicated to hearing the plea of lonely people who look for someone with whom to share their pain? Budget problems, and the pressure of a fast-paced life have led parishes into an extreme concern with management tactics, often reflected in commissions, reports, meetings, and other activities that resemble a corporation much more than a Church. Such time-consuming events often reduce time for pastoral care to a minimum. Confessions, counseling and simple informal conversations between clergy and parishioners are more and more rare. And, as they become that rare, the possibilities of helping lives in need, sometimes even recommending the help of a professional, become impossible.

Our concern with what we eat has somehow changed over the course of the last decades, and signs of change can be seen in parishes. Many now offer gluten-free wafers, for example, for those who have all sorts of allergies to it. It is startling to see, though, that in many cases the parish lunch that follows it does not conform to the same consideration. It is not rare to find that the only eating option is still hyper-caloric, high-cholesterol, sugar-enhanced, non-vegetarian, heart-defeating food. For those who have eating disorders, or even for the ones who have strict diets, taking part of such events is a dreadful temptation, and often an opportunity for “breaking the diet” and getting back to dangerous eating habits.

And what about alcohol? Many of us can be eager to make fun of other Christians whose traditions totally forbid the consumption of alcoholic beverages. However, such a line of thought commonly holds hands with a tacit acceptance of some behaviors that can be – and are – very destructive. As we grow aware of the dangers alcoholism can bring to individuals, families and communities, I wonder how many times we have witnessed the excesses of alcohol consumption, even at church-related parties, and how silent we have been, not willing to accept that many of our brothers and sisters (including clergy) already have all sorts of “drinking problems”, which can dramatically explode in the future, leading to very sad results.

The same can be applied to smoking. While I do not think it is a mortal sin, as some Christians would say, it is for sure extremely dangerous for one's health. My father, who was a chain smoker for more than twenty years, still suffered the effects of it (and eventually died as a result of permanent damage in his lungs) years after having completely left cigarrettes behind. However, how many times have we been blind to the ones around us with similar problems, often regarding them as a natural consequence of life?

Do not get me wrong. I am not advocating any kind of abstinence theology, or the imposition of a strict diet, as some churches do. However, I think that in many situations, we – as a Church – have been silent while people – our own people – suffer from the awful physical and emotional results of diseases and addictions. We can always lend our parish halls to AA or NA meetings, but in many cases, that is not enough. It is necessary for the Church to be a real safe space for those who come to it with all sorts of conditions, and sometimes it is our duty to make sacrifices in order to accomodate them. Such “sacrifices” can cover a wide range of simple practices which can be implemented, in many cases, in a seamless way. Why not consider the possibility of having all parish meals fat and sugar free? Why not start offering gluten, lactose free and vegetarian options as well? Why not offering community based classes on healthy-cooking and nutrition? Why not cease having alcoholic beverages in Church parties whenever recovering alcoholics are present? Why not promoting seminars to youth and adults on the dangerous effects of addictions, and providing space for church people to have anonymous counseling, which in most cases cannot happen with the group that meets at the parish hall? Why not sponsoring walks, sports competitions and even gym activities in our churches? Those are only some examples, and I am sure that you know of much more.

Surely, in many religious communities around the country (and the world) some signs of change are already visible. However, health care is never too much, and much still needs to be done. As the Body of Christ, it is utterly necessary that we work towards keeping as healthy as possible our individual bodies, which will work more efficiently for the building of His Kingdom. This involves caring for ourselves, so that we are able to care for others, and lifting up our hearts, once for all, to a better living standard.

This article was published on the Episcopal Café. If you want to leave a comment, please consider posting it there too in order to help sponsor this wonderful initiative of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington DC.

“So, you want to be an artist?” - he asked. “Yes, sir.” - I responded. “So, you don't want to study theology anymore?” - he asked. “No, sir, I still want to study it.”

The man who asked me those questions was a parishioner at the church I served as an intern the whole year of 2007, back in the Anglican Diocese of Rio de Janeiro. Like many, he could not see the manifold interrelations between art and theology. I thoroughly explained to him how the Church has always used art as a means of retelling stories about the People of Israel and also about Our Lord Jesus and all the saints. And then I told him about my earlier attempts to start art school and how I felt called to incorporate art and ministry together. Still, he was puzzled. And then, only God knows why, I eventually told him: “I want to pursue this vocation because I firmly believe that God is the source of all beauty, and as part of his creation, we enjoy being able to create beautiful works to praise Him.” He finally settled, albeit a little disturbed with how obvious and still how unnoticed those words were to him.

More recently, I found myself giving a similar explanation to a completely different audience: art students. While having a meeting with a professor here at SCAD-Atlanta, we were invited to show some of our art and explain why we had chosen that field. Most of us in that room were visual artists, or at least visual artists-wannabes. We showed our art to our peers and also to the professor. When my turn came, and I finally got to show some of my pieces, a student noticed how commonly religious themes were present in my artwork and asked why. I told him – to the awe of some of my peers – that since I believed we were made in the image and likeness of God, not only were we gifted with creativity, but we also could use our creative abilities to praise him trough the resources he has given us.

I wonder how, or when, art and faith got disconnected from each other – at least to the wider public. In art circles, this is often true. It is still impressive to me to notice how many artists and art students, who in many cases are people of faith, do not perceive how precious the artistic creativeprocess is and how blessed we are to have the opportunity of doing it. Even churchgoers fail to see how natural God's praise through art is. When I finally communicated my intention to come to Atlanta to pursue a BFA in Painting at SCAD, and therefore to combine it with long-distance theology studies at one of the Brazilian Anglican seminaries, some people in the Church found that complicated arrangement to be a very difficult one. After all, to them, either you are an artist, or you are a priest.

I refuse to accept this exclusive definition of ministry, and many of you already know why. In your communities of faith, you probably have had the joyful opportunity of feeling God's presence through the beauty of lovely choirs, through the glooming light that crosses stained glass windows, through various art exhibits, and even through well chanted liturgies. All of these have something in common: they are the fruit of the human creative process, with the sole purpose of worshipping the One to whom all glory and honor should be given.

As children of God, we are part of his beautiful creation. God has also entrusted this creation to us, and has made it available for us to enjoy and use in order to generate beauty in the midst of this broken world. It is true that stains of sin sometimes cover our beauty. However, through Christ our Redeemer we are always able to recover our inner radiance. As Christians, we are called to spread the redeeming message in many forms; and art is one of them.



So, the next time you find yourself appreciating a work of art, do not forget it is also a prayer: a plea from the human spirit to its Divine Creator, and also an opportunity to engage the original beauty of God's creation.

This article was published on Saints Alive (Summer 2008) – a newsletter of All Saints' Episcopal Church (Atlanta/GA). Also available on the Episcopal Café. If you want to leave a comment, please consider posting it there too in order to help sponsor this wonderful initiative of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington DC.

Fifty years ago, in most of Brazil, it was still common to see people watch the sunset sitting on a comfortable rocking chair on the porch of their houses. Families and neighbors were usually invited over, and food and refreshments were widely available. In more urban scenarios, people would bring tables and chairs to the sidewalks, and chat before dinner. After the Second World War, these moments had an important effect: they helped build communities, often composed of people from different backgrounds and ethnicities, and offered hope for a better future.

On colder days, if the weather allowed it, hot coffee or black tea, accompanied by a few slices of carrot, orange or corn cake, was just enough to bring families around the outdoor table, and soon neighbors and friends would join them. They would eventually bring more snacks, and conversation would go on until it was time to go inside and have dinner. On hot summer days, hot coffee was replaced by cold juices and mate, a special Brazilian tea cherished by many in its cold and sweet form. Sometimes, this happy encounter would be followed by a garden dinner, which could go on for hours and hours.

As a Southerner “by adoption”, I soon learned that some traditions are ubiquitous everywhere, especially when it comes to “Pan-American late afternoon environments”. Some of the foods were probably slightly different, and mate was surely replaced by intese doses of freshly brewed sweet tea on the rocks. However, the feelings and bonds of affection were the same, and long nights of laughs and conversations helped foster the sense of community here and there, especially at a time when the future seemed to be uncertain.

In churches, similar events also happened. From “dinners on the grounds” to Shrove Tuesday pancake suppers, food, community and conversations have always been part of our Church life. The rich noise of children running around the parish hall and vivid conversations between parishioners of different sorts still can be heard in many of our Churches across the world. In many places, however, this community life centered around food and conversation is dying, often substituted by an innovative “consumer Gospel”, which produces short term growth, but in the long run has increasingly contributed to empty houses of worship.

Sadly, I do not belong to the slow sweet tea generation. Raised in a middle class apartment, I did not have the possibility of playing with neighbors on the street and hearing my mother's call to come inside for dinner. To be true, I barely knew my neighbors' names. Only in the Summer, when I would spend some free time at my grandparents' cottage, did I have the opportunity to enjoy the slow life of the good old times”: playing with their pet (a dog named Perigoso - “Dangerous” in English – who was anything but dangerous), helping my grandfather harvest fresh vegetables, playing with the neighbors' kids, jumping in trees and getting dirty. And, at the end of the afternoon, we would always drink refreshments and chat for a while in front of their house. The neighbors were always invited to join the conversation, after all, everybody was part of a “big family”.

That's how Churches are supposed to be: a big family. However, the “community” aspect of church life is emphasized in our “modern” world less and less. Many search committees now expect priests to be much more like business administrators who are able to celebrate a quick liturgy rather than spiritual leaders called by God to announce the Good News of Jesus Christ. Furthermore, with a schedule filled with committee meetings, there is little time for visiting the sick, talking on the phone with parishioners or even enjoying a cup of coffee or a glass of sweet tea at the end of the afternoon.

Parishioners also have less and less time for Church affairs. Sunday school is rarely heard of in some places. Coffee and refreshments, usually served after the main service of the day, are taken “to go” as people run to their cars, ready to drive to the nearest restaurant. There is little time for weekday activities, including longtime parish programs and traditions, which risk being extinguished within a couple of generations.

It is necessary to reclaim the “spirituality of sweet tea” in our world: the long talks, the hugs, the common meals and warm conversations. Yes, the world has changed, and the Church inevitably has to adapt to a fast-paced society. However, the essence of Christian community life cannot change. Some regard it as early Christians' most impressible aspect and wherever it still persists, the Church is strong and active.

Maybe it is time, then, to use community life as a tool for church growth and evangelism. Younger generations, often so technologically savvy, lack the “people” aspect of daily life. If the Church will provide a warm and welcoming environment, where all are known and cherished by their brothers and sisters in Christ, it surely will be able to reach the unchurched. Our Episcopal/Anglican identity provides a solid and traditional liturgy, complemented with a comprehensive and inclusive theology. When allied with intentional Christian community, which naturally flows from our liturgy centered around the Eucharist, Christ is made truly present among us and a conduit is created that enables people to find wholeness in God in Christ.

Originally published on the Episcopal Café. If you want to leave a comment, please consider posting it there too in order to help sponsor this wonderful initiative of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington DC.

A few months ago, after Evensong, I decided to do one of my “favorite” Sunday night activities – grocery shopping. There I was in one of Midtown Atlanta’s supermarkets strolling my buggy, drinking my latte and trying to get everything I needed as fast as I could. Until, at a certain moment, my eyes were attracted to a cute little girl, with a big smile and curly hair, who was fascinated with a basket full of multicolored tie-dye balls in front of her.

As I contemplated in awe the beauty of innocence, a horrifying thought suddenly came to my mind: “where are this girl's parents?” I was not the only one to wonder where they were; within seconds the little child also realized that she was alone in the midst of strangers. Immediately her smile was erased from her face, and my heart started aching in pain as I heard her begin to yell desperately, “Mommy, Mommy!”

Thankfully, within seconds a young woman came from behind a pile of products and hugged the frightened girl. Everything was alright; Mommy was there. My heart settled in peace as that same wide smile that had first caught my attention came back to the child's face as she was embraced by the one who has loved her for her whole life. Since that Sunday night, I have not been able to erase that scene from my mind; and, the reason, I believe, is because through it God has been speaking to me.

That scene speaks a prophetic message to me and to all of us ‘adults’ that even when we pretend to believe we are strong and self-sufficient, we know deep down that we are as lonely, frightened, and vulnerable as that little lost girl. There are moments when we walk away from God and think we can live our lives apart from God; yet, even in those moments when we think we are capable of controlling our own lives, our hearts are crying and we too are yelling, “Mommy, Mommy, where are you?”

It happened to me; I can still remember it vividly. I was serving in the Brazilian Army and was on a flight from Manaus, in the Amazon, to Brasília, in order to take part in a “War Games” symposium. I boarded the plane, confident in the power of humankind, knowing that it would arrive to its destination safely, since it was a safe aircraft and the weather was wonderful. That's not what happened, though. As the plane flew through the Amazon forest, it found itself being sucked by an unpredictable low-pressure zone, and went deeply into free fall.

Passengers screamed; dishes, bags and even a baby were flying around us. A woman on my right side held my arm so tightly that it hurt. I knew that there was no way of surviving. Even if we landed in the forest, it would still be in the middle of nowhere and our chances of surviving in the wild were nearly impossible. At that moment, I knew that nothing that human beings had ever developed or created would be able to save me. All of the things in which I had placed my trust were powerless to help me. I was defenseless and scared.

And then I decided to pray. It was nothing more than a simple sentence: “God, into your hands I commend my life.” It was my first prayer in years, as I had given up on “church” and walked away from God. But, I can say those words were probably the deepest and truest ones my mouth had ever said. Only God knows why, but the plane shook hard, and found its track back on course. Everybody was safe again. Even the baby who was flying over our heads was rescued and restored to his mother. My life (and probably the other passengers' lives too) would never be the same, though.

I think most of us have been through similar situations. An accident, a disease, the death of a loved one – each of these moments, and other tragic moments like them, remind us that we are nothing but children running around carelessly, until we find ourselves apparently lost, and begin to scream for our parents. The pain of human impotence and the realization that we human beings are powerless towards such situations bring us the scariest, deepest fears. Even our Lord Jesus in the fulness of his human nature, felt the fear and pain of his abandonment and loneliness on the cross and he too screamed to God in agony...

The good news, however, is that it does not end there. We are not left in our despair, and neither was Our Lord Jesus. As we go through Eastertide, let us not forget that the greatest rescue took place in Jesus Christ's Resurrection. God did not forsake the forsaken One on the cross; God heard the cries of agony, and raised Jesus Christ on the third day. Christ is risen indeed, and the power of sin and death is no longer upon us. We, who were lost, are now found; as the mother was at there in the supermarket to rescue her child, so God is always present to rescue us to new life.

After that moment in the airplane, I knew there was someone who really cared about me. Soon, I began to view all of those Christian beliefs and Biblical stories that I had been taught in my youth and had cast aside as a set of irrational children's tales in a new light. I began to realize that they meant something; and I rediscovered truths that I will never forget.

Throughout my life, I have seen the Risen Christ with his message of hope even in the midst of despair. He has been there through the prayers of friends, through the tears in the eyes of my family, through the intercession of his Blessed Mother, though hymns, icons and scripture verses... and in my heart, always giving me a reason to live and have hope that in the end, all will be well. I can not say my life is perfect, but I know, now, that I have a “mother in Heaven” who will always come to me with a healing embrace when I cry out in moments of despair.

Our highest Father, God Almighty, who is ‘Being’, has always known us and loved us: because of this knowledge, through his marvellous and deep charity and with the unanimous consent of the Blessed Trinity, He wanted the Second Person to become our Mother, our Brother, our Saviour.
It is thus logical that God, being our Father, be also our Mother. Our Father desires, our Mother operates and our good Lord the Holy Ghost confirms; we are thus well advised to love our God through whom we have our being, to thank him reverently and to praise him for having created us and to pray fervently to our Mother, so as to obtain mercy and compassion, and to pray to our Lord, the Holy Ghost, to obtain help and grace.
I then saw with complete certainty that God, before creating us, loved us, and His love never lessened and never will. In this love he accomplished all his works, and in this love he oriented all things to our good and in this love our life is eternal.
With creation we started but the love with which he created us was in Him from the very beginning and in this love is our beginning. And all this we shall see it in God eternally.

Bl. Julian of Norwich

Originally published on the Episcopal Café. If you want to leave a comment, please consider posting it there too in order to help sponsor this wonderful initiative of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington DC.

This is the tradition of the Lord that I received and that in my turn I have handed on to you; the Lord Jesus, on the night that he was delivered up, took bread and, after giving thanks, broke it, saying, “This is my body which is broken for you; do this in memory of me.” In the same manner, taking the cup after the supper, he said, “This cup is the new Covenant in my blood. Whenever you drink it, do it in memory of me.” So, then, whenever you eat of this bread and drink from this cup, you are proclaiming the death of the Lord until he comes.
Therefore, if anyone eats of the bread or drinks from the cup of the Lord unworthily, he sins against the body and blood of the Lord.
Let each one, then, examine himself before eating of the bread and drinking from the cup. Otherwise, he eats and drinks his own condemnation in not recognizing the Body.
This is the reason why so many among you are sick and weak and several have died. If we examined and corrected ourselves, the Lord would not have to exercise judgment against us. 32 The Lord’s strokes are to correct us, so that we may not be condemned with this world.

It was before the feast of the Passover. Jesus realized that his hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, and as he had loved those who were his own in the world, he would love them with perfect love.
They were at supper and the devil had already put into the mind of Judas, son of Simon Is­cariot, to betray. Je­sus knew that the Father had entrusted all things to him, and as he had come from God, he was go­ing to God. So he got up from table, removed his garment and taking a towel, wrapped it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel he was wearing.
When he came to Simon Peter, Simon said to him, “Why, Lord, you want to wash my feet!” Jesus said, “What I am doing you cannot under­stand now, but afterwards you will understand it.” Peter replied, “You shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you can have no part with me.” Then Simon Peter said, “Lord, wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head!”
Jesus replied, “Whoever has taken a bath does not need to wash (except the feet), for he is clean all over. You are clean, though not all of you.” Jesus knew who was to betray him; be­cause of this he said, “Not all of you are clean.”
When Jesus had finished washing their feet, he put on his garment again, went back to the table and said to them, “Do you understand what I have done to you? You call me Master and Lord, and you are right, for so I am. If I, then, your Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you also must wash one ano­ther’s feet. I have just given you an example that as I have done, you also may do.
Truly, I say to you, the servant is not greater than his master, nor is the messenger greater than he who sent him. Understand this, and blessed are you if you put it into practice.
Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified and God is glorified in him. God will glorify him, and he will glorify him very soon.
My children, I am with you for only a little while; you will look for me, but, as I already told the Jews, so now I tell you: where I am going you cannot come. Now I give you a new commandment: love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

1 Corinthians 11:23-32 and John 13:1-17, 31b-35 (Maundy Thursday)
The Bible (Pastoral Community Version)

“Whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner...” This Bible passage has always been one of the most striking to me in my whole life. I recall not receiving communion several times, when I felt not able (or willing) to allow God to free myself from a certain sin, whether it was a personal one or even a collective one. And I know this might be a very countercultural behavior, especially at a time sin has been apparently forgotten by many, and confession has become a more and more rare event in peoples' lives.

However, it is my firm belief that there is no other way of behaving with respect to the magnificent care expressed by Jesus on that night right before he was betrayed, than with utmost respect and awe for his unconditional love towards us.

Acts of love are usually enhanced by unpredictable circumstances under which they happen, and the events that happened on that Thursday night were no different from that. The first of them was the washing of the feet. I imagine how shocked the disciples were to see their master, the Messiah, humbly washing their feet. Yes, the one who had taught them so much, was acting as if he were a simple servant. What they did not know, however, was that Jesus, on that night, was teaching them the most important lesson of all... a new commandment that resumed and consolidated his message so far.

“Love one another as I love you.” The strength of such a commandment goes far beyond our typical understanding of love. Jesus' love is so deep that it reaches even the one who would betray him hours later. His humility is so impressive that he does not care to wash tired and dirty feet, probably full of wounds and scars. Are we really following Jesus' new commandment and this new vision of love? It is easy for us to say that we love our neighbor, and in fact, many of us repeat those verses every Sunday. It is easy to strike our chests and claim we have given a certain amount of our money to the local shelter, a hospice in Guatemala or even for the Millenium Development Goals, but would we be willing to leave the ease of modern life and share all we have with the miserable? Would we live a simple life and truly be brothers and sisters of those who have no more than rice and beans to eat? Would we go to the slums and proclaim the Gospel to those for whom life has become a source of constant pain? Would we reach those who we should hate (and who hate us), whomever they are, and yet tell them we love them as Jesus loves all of us?

No, we would not. During Lent, we were theoretically called to fast, and give up on simple things that are important to us. However, how many times have we caught ourselves complaining about how hard it is to do that. How many times have we almost failed? It is difficult, it is very difficult to leave our comfort zone and realize that, for many people around the globe, our lenten fast is much fancier than what they will have in their whole lives. Do we really care? Do we really manifest this love Jesus has commanded us to show?

The apex of this love is expressed in the simple meal Jesus shared with his disciples shortly after he washed their feet. More than a memorial supper of bread and wine, more than a simple act of thanksgiving, the institution of the Holy Eucharist became a way through which Jesus' disciples could recapitulate his final act of self giving love for humankind. By giving his body and blood, he offered himself in sacrifice for us, and made us part of his own body. He shared our pain, and even in spite of all the suffering that was about to come, he was still able to love unconditionally.

The Eucharist should mean more to us than a weekly ceremony. It is the spiritual food that nourishes us and prepares us truly to be Jesus' disciples. When we take part of Jesus' body and blood, we commit ourselves to follow him with all our heart, live according to his commandment and flood this world with Christ's love. The same meal he instituted that night is a continuous reminder that, even not being perfect, we ought to struggle to be worthy of such unconditional love.

Maundy Thursday, more than a simple ceremony or a light meal, is a calling. As we remember Jesus' last moments with his disciples before his arrest, we are called to be worthy of such a wondrous love. We are called to truly love all humankind, sacrificing our own selfish desires for the common good. We are called to go to the slums and proclaim Jesus' message to the outcasts of society. We are called to embrace our enemies and to love them with all our heart. We are called to love the sick, the hungry and the needy. We are called to make a difference, and show to the world what Christ's love is about.

Originally published on the Episcopal Café. If you want to leave a comment, please consider posting it there too in order to help sponsor this wonderful initiative of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington DC.