New Blog

There are so few readers left here because I post so rarely, but if there's anyone out there, I wanted to let you know that I'll be posting about my Oxford trip over at the new blog on the Hickory Neck Church website: http://hickoryneck.org/blog/. I'm not going to try to duplicate the posts here, but if you're interested in my thoughts about the trip, stop by over there.

No longer 40!

Birthdays seem a good time to renew interest in a blog. Today I'm 41. I know it's only a number, just as 40 was only a number. But 41 is a very different number. For me, 40 was laden with the knowledge of all the dreams I've had to leave behind. In the past year I've done a lot of grieving. It's also been a year in which I've experienced a lot of death: Kathy Backlund, Robin Bennett, my beloved cat Zoya, a couple of parishioners who I knew well, and a number of other friends have been diagnosed with serious or terminal illnesses. It's been a year of sadness.

In June, though, I seemed to turn a corner. I spent a week in CA, returning to the Hoffman Institute for a Q2 graduate weekend, and then hanging out at Stinson Beach and Point Reyes and Muir Woods. Hoffman worked the same miracle it did before, and now, instead of grieving lost dreams, I feel ready to face forward into new dreams. On Monday I leave for a study program in England with my bishop. The first week of September will see me on vacation with my family in the mountains and at Camp Mikell. And so many possibilities for my life and my ministry lie open before me.

So I bid a fond farewell to 40 and a grateful howdy to 41. Maybe it's just the transition years that are so difficult for me. I am filled with hope, now, that my decade of forties will be the best yet and that I will seize the opportunities open to me. Love and light, everyone!

ECW Sermon

This is my sermon for the Diocese of Southern Virginia ECW spring meeting. One person said I was very brave to preach this, but it didn't feel so brave to me. Just trying to interpret the text as faithfully as possible. It was a privilege to be able to preach for this group.

“The Better Part”
The Rev. Lauren McDonald
Hickory Neck Episcopal Church – Toano, VA
DIOSVA ECW Spring Meeting – May 1, 2010
Ruth 1:7-18, 1 Corinthians 12:1-12, Luke 10:38-42


So before I get started, I need to do a little survey here. How many Marthas are here today? (ad lib) What about Marys? Do we have any Marys here? Okay. Thank you. I just needed to know who I was talking to.

I think it’s easy for those of us who identify with Martha to start feeling a little defensive whenever we hear this story. After all, Martha was the responsible one. She made sure everyone was fed and cared for. She was working hard to provide hospitality to guests in her home. Without her, no one would have eaten. Martha had the spiritual gift of doing. She knew how to take care of business, how to get things done. If you wanted an event planned, I’m guessing it was a good idea to call on Martha. And really, in the hierarchy of spiritual gifts, isn’t doing more important than being? Surely it must be preferable to be productive than to just sit around.

No offense to the Marys in the room, but what was Mary doing? Sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening? Well, la-di-da. First of all, that wasn’t even a place where a woman should be. And then, she was leaving all the work for her sister to do. No wonder Martha felt resentful. Maybe she would have liked to have sat and listened, too. But that’s something you can do after all the work is done. Once you’ve straightened the house and cooked and served everyone and cleaned up, then maybe there’s time to sit at the feet of Jesus. If Mary had helped Martha, then the work would have gone faster and maybe both of them could have sat and listened. If Martha had done what Mary did, then no one would have had dinner. How well do you think that would have gone over? It’s not like Martha could just order pizza from Domino’s or pick up a tray of Chick-fil-a nuggets.

So why does Jesus criticize Martha and praise Mary? Does he like being hungry? Can’t he appreciate all the work Martha had done on his behalf? We know that Jesus is a fan of serving others. This story of Mary and Martha comes right after the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke. In that story Jesus seems to indicate that the good neighbor is the Samaritan who stops and looks after the wounded man. Not the priest or Levite who passed by on the other side. If the Samaritan had been lost in contemplation, he certainly wouldn’t have stopped to help. It was the action he took that made him the good neighbor. Jesus tells us to go and do likewise. So which is it? Are we supposed to be responsible and take care of others or are we supposed to sit and listen?

Traditionally this story has been interpreted to mean that we need both the contemplative and the active in our lives. Teresa of Avila writes, “Believe me, Martha and Mary must join together in order to show hospitality to the Lord and have Him always present and not host Him badly by failing to give Him something to eat. How would Mary, always seated at His feet, provide Him with food if her sister did not help her?” She also says, “let us desire and be occupied in prayer not for the sake of our enjoyment but so as to have this strength to serve.”

Martha and Mary must join together. We need to participate in both the life of the spirit and the life of service. Each must inform the other. If all we do is contemplate God, then our neighbor will lie in the street, hungry and beaten, and we will not have fulfilled Jesus’ commandments. If we fill our life with activity, salving our guilt at our privilege with ever increasing service, or if we exhaust ourselves by attempting to satisfy all the need we encounter by our own efforts, then we also are not doing what Jesus commanded.

Loving our neighbor in our hearts without the action of our hands doesn’t do much to put food in the bellies of our neighbors or clothes on their backs. On the other hand, without spending time listening to Jesus, like Mary, our activity can become relentless and draining, ungrounded in our spiritual lives. We may become exhausted and resentful, giving of ourselves until we drop, but angry and frustrated by our work. I think it is this resentfulness, the worry and distraction, that Jesus is actually pointing out as problematic, not Martha’s willingness to serve others.

As part of my seminary training I did a unit of CPE, Clinical Pastoral Education, in which we learned about how to be chaplains. Each morning we interns led a short worship service and once a week each of us had to give a short homily. One day I used this story of Mary and Martha as my text. I made similar points as those I’m making here, and I basically concluded that this story is about finding a balance in our spiritual lives. I felt pretty confident of what I had said and even proud of the fact that no less a saint than Teresa of Avila agreed with my conclusions.
My supervisor turned to me in our reflection group afterwards and said, “Well, yes, that is a classic interpretation of the text. But why do you think Jesus said that Mary has chosen the better part?”

I was stunned. I have been thinking about his question ever since. I still think that Mary and Martha must be joined together. I still think that the life of prayer must feed the life of service and vice versa. And I definitely want Jesus to praise me for all my frantic activity, even when it causes me to be worried and distracted, instead of serving with a spirit of joy. I want Martha to get the pat on the back that she deserves. But like my CPE supervisor pointed out, I am missing the point.

It is by stopping and listening to the Word of God that we learn what service we are called to do. Mary took her place at the feet of Jesus and listened. She claimed a place that a woman shouldn’t have had. She had the courage to remain there even when her own sister threw it up in her face that she wasn’t being productive enough, wasn’t helping her sister as she should have been. We don’t know from the story what fruit was born from Mary’s listening. Maybe she felt called into some sort of service that gave her joy. Maybe she learned from Jesus how she might spread the gospel. Maybe she didn’t DO anything but instead BECAME something new.

As women in the church (no offence to the Bishop and Michael), we are at the heart of this story. At this time in history we are no longer denied a place at the table or a spot at Jesus’ feet. Women can even be Presiding Bishops now. For a long time, women and ECWs have been known for having the energy for service like that of Martha.
ECWs have furnished churches, built kitchens, fed the hungry, raised money for the poor, provided scholarships, created community, and on and on and on. There has been no end to the doing, and the church as we know it would not exist without these efforts.

What I’m wondering though, is if it’s time for the women of the church to claim our place as Mary, sitting with Jesus, listening to the Word of God, being quiet enough to hear where we are being called next. Who is Jesus calling us to be? If we are still for a time we might just find out. Then we too will know what it is like to choose the better part. It will not be taken from us.

Retreat Time

I have not yet learned to schedule my life as a priest. When I was in school, there were built in vacations around the holidays and there were summers. Even when I worked in the summers, there was usually some time off at the beginning and end. In theatre my life was a series of sprints. Work 60-80 hours a week for 6-8 weeks and then be unemployed for a few weeks. The unemployment part was hard on the bank account, but I could always push myself very hard because eventually rest would come.

But priesthood is like a never ending marathon. I push and push, but I never get to the rest time. Like theatre, I only have one day off a week. I do have some vacation time, but this year I have it scheduled for later in the year. What I've learned is that I can't go 4 months with no break. I'm going to get better at this scheduling thing, but last week I squeezed out 3 days in which I could get away to the mountains to a little bed and breakfast in Crozet. The first day I slept all day, but the second day I was able to spend some time on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then I met my college roommate, Kristi, for an afternoon chat. We haven't seen each other in over 5 years, so it was a real treat. Picture below.

Spring at Greenwich Mews

I've been digging in the dirt, practicing a little soil therapy and expanding the plantings in my yard. Here are a few pictures of Casa McDonald.

Easter Sermon

Here is my Easter sermon. SPOILER ALERT: If you believe in the Easter bunny, do not read!

“The Cost of Easter”
The Rev. Lauren McDonald
Hickory Neck Episcopal Church – Toano, VA
Easter Day – April 4, 2010
John 20:1-18

“Easter costs less at Wal-Mart.” This is a line from a commercial that has been plaguing me for weeks. I’ve heard it on the radio and seen it on television. “Easter costs less at Wal-Mart.” The radio ad goes on to describe how shopping at Wal-Mart is so much more desirable than shopping at drug stores. You can get so much more stuff for the Easter baskets at Wal-Mart because it costs less. If you shop at Wal-Mart, then your baskets will have the most stuff.

The first time I heard this commercial, I laughed out loud. In disbelief. Easter costs less at Wal-Mart? I bet it does.

Now before I illuminate the problems I have with Wal-Mart’s marketing campaign, let me just say that I realize Wal-Mart is speaking of secular Easter, the spring holiday with the bunny and the chocolate and jelly beans, the baby chicks and pretty flowers and peeps, the feel-good, celebrate good weather, eat-lots-of-junk-cause-it-tastes-good holiday. Secular Easter is yummy! Y’all know how much I love chocolate. And in a way Wal-Mart is offering the good news of secular Easter. In the current economy, families who may be having trouble paying bills or making ends meet, but who still want to provide a moment of joy for their children on Easter morning, will find Wal-Mart’s message to be one of good news. Save money. Live better. Easter costs less at Wal-Mart. Alleluia.

Of course the problem I have with Wal-Mart’s proclamation is that it has nothing to do with real Easter. The secular spring holiday is about filling baskets. Easter is about an empty tomb. Wal-Mart’s secular holiday is about cutting costs. Easter doesn’t come without a cost. And that’s what appalled me most when I first heard the ad. “Easter costs less…” No. Easter costs everything.

We can’t get to Easter, to resurrection, to the singing and Alleluias and joy without first passing through Good Friday with the torture of death by crucifixion. Jesus could not be raised from the dead until he had died. The disciples couldn’t know the joy of being reunited with their risen friend and teacher until they had known the grief of losing him.

Can you imagine what it must have been like for Mary? In John’s gospel we don’t hear mention of Mary Magdalene until she is named as one of the three Marys who stand at the foot of the cross and witness the crucifixion, but we can surmise that she was one of Jesus’ disciples. We can imagine that she had followed him and listened to his teaching, that she had been inspired by who he was and the things that he said, that she loved him as her friend and teacher. Then she had to watch while he died a horribly cruel death, this man who had never done anything wrong, who had taught about love and forgiveness, who had healed the sick and raised the dead, who had lived his life as a servant to others. What kind of helplessness and grief must she have felt as she gazed up at the broken and bleeding body of Jesus? It must have felt like hope had died.

When Mary crept in the dark of the predawn morning to the tomb where Jesus had been laid, I wonder what she was expecting. Certainly not for the stone to have been rolled away. Certainly not for Jesus’ body to be gone. No wonder she couldn’t stop weeping. It hadn’t been enough that they had crucified him; now she didn’t even know where his body was resting. It didn’t matter that Jesus had told the disciples what would happen to him. When Mary saw that empty tomb, her grief overcame her. Not even the appearance of angels could comfort her.

Only Jesus himself, her risen Lord, calling her name, “Mary,” could stop her tears. Only Jesus could bring her to see what the empty tomb really meant – not that his dead body had been stolen but that no tomb could hold the risen Christ. Mary must have immediately tried to embrace Jesus in her joy, but he resisted, “Do not hold on to me.”

It’s such a human response, though, isn’t it? To try to hold on. But Jesus could not be held. Not by Mary. Not by the tomb. Not by death. No matter how much we may want to hold onto him, we can’t. As Presbyterian pastor Craig Barnes writes, “Following Jesus is a never-ending process of losing him the moment we have him captured, only to discover him anew in an even more unmanageable form. Every expectation of Jesus is only another futile effort to get him back in the tomb. But Jesus just won’t stay there.”

And neither can we. Once we have encountered the risen Christ, things must change.
Just as they did for Mary and the disciples. The time of weeping was over. Jesus immediately sent Mary back to proclaim to the other disciples that she had seen him and that he would be ascending. Their work was only beginning. It was time to move forward to the next thing. Jesus would ascend to God and the disciples would carry on his work, proclaiming the good news of resurrection to the ends of the earth. They gave their all to share that message.

We have the same work to do. We have been sent with the same message. Our Easter message is the good news of Christ crucified, buried, and risen. Our Easter message is the good news that we have been redeemed, that death no longer has dominion over us.
Our Easter message is the good news that God forgives us and loves us.

The world today needs to hear that message every bit as much as first century Palestine. We don’t need baskets full of empty calories; we need the empty tomb, filled with the light of resurrection. We don’t need to fill our emptiness with more stuff; we need to fill our emptiness with a relationship with God and with other people. We don’t need an Easter that costs less; we need an Easter that is simultaneously free of charge and of the greatest cost. It’s free of charge because Jesus took the cost on himself. But if we become his followers it will cost us everything we have. You see, at Wal-Mart, we may give less money and get more candy, but with Jesus, when we give our lives for him, we gain eternal life. I don’t know about you, but I’ll take eternal life over a cheaper Cadbury egg any day!

Holy Week

Last week was Holy Week. I had planned not to plan anything. Besides the Holy Week services and writing sermons. I had planned to have large chunks of time in which to read and think about Holy Week, to meditate on Jesus' journey to the cross, to listen to music and sit and be. I had planned not to schedule very many things.

In truth, I didn't make many plans. Staff meeting. A couple of pastoral visits. A planning meeting for the women's group that just wouldn't fit at any other time. Chrism mass in Richmond. Somehow, though I did not intend it, and though there were not lots of scheduled events, somehow the time disappeared. It was Thursday before I had time to sit and think and be, and then I needed to write two sermons. I couldn't help but lament the lost time. I couldn't help beating myself up for overscheduling AGAIN.

And then, while I was reading in preparation to write my Good Friday sermon, I read a line from Kenneth Leech's "We Preach Christ Crucified." It talked about how preaching about suffering should not be detached from prayer and pastoral care. And then I realized that I was spending Holy Week exactly as I should - with the people of my community. Would it have been nice to spend the whole week in prayer and mediation? Sure. But we are Christians in community. We do not walk the journey with Christ by ourselves. I was right where I needed to be, in the midst of the people whom I serve. Isn't that what Jesus did? Isn't that what he calls us to do? I kept Holy Week holy, in worship, in prayer, and in community. We walked the journey together.

Happy Easter. Alleluia!