It's Personal

“Oh, you’re Episcopalian! Well I guess we could have had wine with dinner tonight!”

I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or to just accept the comment at face value. It’s true, most Episcopalians do enjoy a glass of wine…or two. And what’s wrong with that?
To most of us, absolutely nothing.

Here in Tanzania, generally speaking, Christians don’t drink. If you drink than you’re a drunk and if you’re a drunk, well then you must not be a Christian.
Or that’s my interpretation of it anyway.
Fair enough.
I respect that.

And many Christians of other denominations (whether from Tanzania or not) don't see Episcopalians as particularly “religious.” Our services are pretty much the same every week.
Quite predictable.
And for me, that is what draws me to church each week.
It’s like coming home.

But others may see it as boring...Just as we don’t have a very dynamic language about our feelings on God from week to week. We don’t often say things like, “It is God’s will that I have met you today,” or “I felt God calling me to work with the poor” (unless you're in seminary of course—in which case God is so active in your life you almost get bored of it! haha...inside joke).
We generally don’t lay hands on the sick during a service or pray for those who have not yet been Saved.
But some do.

Some people don’t think it’s church unless there is an organ playing old, familiar hymns. Others prefer a guitar and more upbeat tunes. Some of us feel it’s absolute chaos if the congregation doesn’t stand for the Gospel, or if there is grape juice instead of wine, or if someone just sits instead of kneeling for the Confession.

What I love about the Episcopal Church is that you’re free to be yourself. We don’t say “All are welcome.”
We announce: “The Episcopal Church welcomes You.”
Just as you are.

Maybe you think the hymns are the worst part of the service, (no matter how hard David Hurd tried to convince you otherwise), maybe you hate lots of liturgy, blah blah blah, I’ve know this by heart since I was seven, or maybe you doubt God’s existence, or perhaps you just want some free coffee and cake after the service…whatever you are and wherever you are in your life there is a place for you in the Episcopal Church.
But I'm just preaching to the choir...that's what I get for spending the better part of my life living in a seminary...

And so here we are in Tanzania. It is the holy month of Ramadhan. Growing up I must admit I hardly even knew what Ramadhan was. Living here, it feels that it is somehow a part of all our lives. Students at school are tired and hungry and can't participate in P.E.
Suddenly around town there are 4 times as many women covered completely from head to toe.
Each day, but mostly Fridays, there are huge crowds of people everywhere in the street, leaving the mosque or on their way: old people, small people, medium sized people, tan, olive or black, dressed in white, brown, black, red...

From sun up to sun down all healthy Muslims are fasting. No water, no food; some might even spit out their saliva.
And it is getting hotter here every day.

“Christians don’t fast,” one of my students said the other day in class.
I replied, “Some do.”
“Yeah, but they drink water when they fast.”

Do we fast? Why?
Why not?
Sure we give up coffee or chocolate or peanut butter for Lent—but does that really draw us closer to God in the end? For some it might.

Are people who celebrate only Christmas (and perhaps Easter) really Christians?
What about Christians who pray each day and read Scripture each day, but hate homosexuals? How can that be?
For me it is a hard issue to deal with.

I have met so, so, so many here in Tanzania who are very kind, caring and God-loving people. I sing with them and pray with them. I feel close to them and can talk openly with them about God and about my personal life.
And yet when the issue of homosexuality comes up I have to leave the room. They think it is not right—what the Episcopal Church is doing—or rather, what it has done. It is very puzzling for me to feel so close to these people and yet feel so far away. The only way I know how to cope is to remember that each of us is an individual.

We each have our own personal relationship with God.

We all interpret Scripture, or a song, or a prayer in our own way.
And that’s alright. right?

In every denomination and every religion there is something that is appealing to me. Pardon me for picking out the small things here:
I like that Muslims remove their shoes and wash their hands and feet before entering the mosque.
I like that Hindus and Sikhs often have dancing as part of their worship, and that they wear outward signs of their religion each day.
I like how Buddhists just sit. silently. gently. still.
I like how Baptists, (yes, Southern Baptists!) will tell you all about how God has been working in their hearts and in their lives during the week. It can be quite encouraging.
I like how Roman Catholics recognize Saints for certain blessings and protections.
I like how Jews maintain strong traditions and abide by certain laws no matter where they are living.
And I like the Episcopal Church because you can do any and all of these things and still be accepted and loved for who you are.