‘Tis the (other) season

Last year I riffed on Mel Gibson’s The Passion.
This time I’m letting Financial Times take on cinema and religion.

Mary Magdalene and Jesus in Rebel Without a Cause.

Imitations of Christ

By Nigel Andrews

Published: March 15 2008 01:33

What is the connection between a bunch of penguins in the Antarctic and a wardrobe leading into a wonderland? Or between a modern-day murder in the Louvre and a 2,000-year-old story of a man crucified for teaching messages of love and forgiveness?

It’s a weird time in Christendom, and for no one more than this doubting film critic, once educated by Anglicans. I meet religion every day on the screen, be it self-declared or subtly disguised. I challenge its myths and mysticisms in my mind with rational humanism. Yet what westerner born in the 20th century – to the emergent din of new audiovisual support systems for the scripture stories (movie epics, TV, rock operas) – can ever quite escape the Good Book or its echoes? Even when those echoes take, as they do today, a more elusive, changeable form.

Read more by clicking here.

Maidens, Guard Your Virtue!

The Minefield of Caddishness,

or

Why It is Advisable to Save Your Virtue for a Keen Member of the Church of England

Who is this Harry Enfield, and where has he been all my life?

I’m in lurv.

The First Moon Walk (and more)

One thing I love about being an Episcopalian is our many Feast Days.

Methodists don’t pay attention to this stuff. But I love reading Lesser Feasts and Fasts and seeing the many great people and events that are remembered in prayer and celebration by Episcopalians. Some are the same as those recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, but others are uniquely ours.

Which brings me to today.

Today is a very tres cool anniversary.

But I’m not just talking about, “The Eagle has landed.”

And I’m not just talking about the moon walk.

I’m talking about this:

“Houston, this is Eagle. This is the LM pilot speaking. I would like to request a few moments of silence. I would like to invite each person listening in, whoever or wherever he may be, to contemplate for a moment the events of the last few hours, and to give thanks in his own individual way.

“In the radio blackout, I opened the little plastic packages which contained the bread and the wine. I poured the wine into the chalice our church had given me. In the one-sixth gravity of the moon, the wine slowly curled and gracefully came up the side of the cup. Then I read the Scripture, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches. Whosoever abides in me will bring forth much fruit.’ I had intended to read my communion passage back to earth, but at the last minute Deke Slayton had requested that I not do this. NASA was already embroiled in a legal battle with Madelyn Murray O’Hare, the celebrated opponent of religion, over the Apollo 8 crew reading from Genesis while orbiting the moon at Christmas. I agreed reluctantly…

“Eagle’s metal body creaked. I ate the tiny Host and swallowed the wine. I gave thanks for the intelligence and spirit that had brought two young pilots to the Sea of Tranquility. It was interesting for me to think: the very first liquid ever poured on the moon, and the very first food eaten there, were the communion elements.”

Buzz Aldrin — Astronaut, Author, Episcopalian
July 20, 1969.

And the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven were there.

There has been a movement in the ECUSA to add the Moon Eucharist as a Lesser Feast and I think eventually that will happen. (I actually started writing this entry because I thought it already had. Ooops.)

But — July 20 is already taken, and quite admirably.

Which is another reason I love the ECUSA. Because social justice and history are honored here, and as so many have said before me, “You don’t have to check your brain at the door” to be an Episcopalian.

We still believe in science. (Go ahead. Read it.)

Postscript: You might notice that on this day of all days, there seems to be an absence of anything Harry Potter in my blog. Well, yes. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to attend the midnight madness tonight, but I’m pretty sure I won’t start reading the book until my copy from the UK arrives which means many, many, many people will have finished before I even hold mine in my hands. I am going to attempt to remain unspoiled, which I fear will be very difficult. This means I won’t watch any media for several days and will be very cautious where I surf the ‘nets.

Right now, I’m listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince again on audio, which is taking longer than I anticipated as my iPod died and I can only listen when I’m in the room with the computer or can abscond with borrow the Resident Storm Chaser’s iPod. But at least this will keep me occupied as I await the owl from the Royal Mail….

The Episcopal Church Welcomes You

The following block advertisement appeared on the NYTimes op-ed page on 5/12/07:

The Episcopal Church
Marking a Milestone, Moving Forward

Somewhere near you, there’s a blue-and-white sign bearing the familiar slogan: The Episcopal Church Welcomes You.

It represents some 7,400 congregations that trace their beginnings in North America to a small but hopeful group of English Christians who arrived May 14, 1607 at a place they called Jamestown – the first permanent English settlement in the New World.

You may know us as Washington’s monumental National Cathedral, site of historic services and ceremonies, or the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York, still unfinished, but already the largest cathedral in the world.

But the Episcopal Church is also Boston’s Old North Church, founded in 1723 and made famous by serving as the beacon for Paul Revere’s revolution-spurring “midnight ride.”

And Philadelphia’s Christ Church, home parish of 15 signers of the Declaration of Independence, host to the first General Convention of the Episcopal Church in 1785.

It’s Trinity Parish on Wall Street in New York, formed in 1698, and St. Paul’s Chapel just down the street, frequented by George Washington and the spiritual healing center of Ground Zero since September 11, 2001.

It’s also Epiphany Church in Los Angeles, where Cesar Chavez rallied the United Farm workers.

And Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Cumberland, Maryland, whose basement was a major stop on the Underground Railroad to freedom for enslaved African-Americans.

And St. John’s Church in Greenwich Village, a meeting place for gay and lesbian action following the 1969 Stonewall uprising.

It’s a parish in Iowa.

A campus ministry in Georgia.

A mission in Dinetah – the Navajo Reservation.

A cathedral in Utah.

Even a house church in Vermont.

Wherever you find us, you’ll find the Book of Common Prayer and a Christian faith that honors and engages the Bible, the tradition of the Church, and God-given human reason.

Joined in prayer, you’ll find people with many points of view – Christians who are progressive, moderate, and conservative – yet who value the diversity of their faith community.

That’s a heritage drawn from our deep roots in nearly 2,000 years of English Christianity, and shared by a worldwide Anglican Communion that unites nearly 80 million people in 164 countries through prayer and ministries committed to caring for “the least of these,” as Jesus commanded, by reducing poverty, disease, and oppression.

Episcopalians struggle with the same issues that trouble all people of faith: how to interpret an ancient faith for today … how to maintain the integrity of tradition while reaching out to a hurting world … how to disagree and yet love and respect one another.

Occasionally those struggles make the news.

People find they can no longer walk with us on their journey, and may be called to a different spiritual home.

Some later make their way back, and find they are welcomed with open arms.

Despite the headlines, the Episcopal Church keeps moving forward in mission – in all 50 U.S. states and the District of Columbia, as well as congregations in Belgium, Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Ecuador, France, Germany, Guam, Haiti, Honduras, Italy, Micronesia, Puerto Rico, Switzerland, Taiwan, Venezuela, and the Virgin Islands.

We’re committed to a transformed world, as Jesus taught: a world of justice, peace, wholeness, and holy living.

We’ve grown a lot in 400 years, since that 1607 worship service from the Book of Common Prayer was held in Jamestown–inside and out.

Come see for yourself. Come and visit. .. come and explore … come and grow.