The Opportunity of Sabbatical (Part 2 of 3)

Last week, I wrote about how sabbath/sabbatical is both a time of rest & restoration and also a check against the idolatry of believing in our own indispensability. This sabbatical time is also a time of opportunity. An opportunity for reflection, an opportunity for discernment, an opportunity to experience something new.

First, reflection.

We have spent seven years together, and we have undergone tremendous changes and tackled tremendous challenges.

We have had honest conversations about the role of alcohol and addictive family systems in our life as a Cathedral and a diocese.

We have wrestled with both stewarding the wealth of the Pope Bequest and the challenge of maintaining aging buildings with rising fixed costs.

We have welcomed many new faces and said goodbye to many others.

We welcomed Lafayette Preparatory Academy into our buildings and established ourselves as a force for the common good downtown.

We have dived into the middle of the great divides of race & class in our city – particularly after the killing of Michael Brown in Ferguson – and in so doing have become both a source of inspiration and a lightning rod for conflict within our own Cathedral, in the city of St. Louis and even across the Episcopal Church and nation.

Relationships have been strengthened and strained. Begun and broken. It has not been easy and it has not been dull.

It is good for all of us now to reflect back on these seven years. Where have we felt Jesus moving in our midst? For what are we grateful, and what do we regret? What joys do we have to proclaim and what sins do we have to confess?

The Christian life is an examined life – and we have been through much to examine.

As Antonio says in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, “What’s past is prologue.” And while I’m not suggesting the murder of a king (or a dean!), there is wisdom here.

God is always operating on at least two tracks. One is about what is happening now. The other is about what unseen in the future it is preparing us for.

What’s past is prologue. And we all have some discernment to do. What of the past seven years do we want to continue and what do we want to leave aside.?

I have tried to lead us in very clear ways in embracing the movement for Black lives and breaking down the us/them structures governing relationships across class lines. This has been hard, controversial work – and this is a good time for you as the Cathedral to discern whether God is calling us to continue that work.

I have tried to lead us in very clear ways embracing a destiny of the Cathedral as a catalyst for mission downtown and in St. Louis and talked about Jesus calling us not to be unconcerned with survival but never to sacrifice faithfulness for survival. Is that a path we want to continue down? What is this past a prologue to for us?

And for me, I need to consider where God might be calling me as I enter my third decade of ordained ministry. To not just give thanks for what has been but to imagine what this might be prologue to for me as well.

And that leads us to the third opportunity – the opportunity to experience something new.

As we have discussed throughout this year, 2017 is likely to look very different at CCC. We have a $212,000 budget deficit this year and next year we will not have any cushion to allow much, if any, deficit at all. We have many different efforts happening right now to address the survival and sustainability of Christ Church Cathedral and these will continue full steam ahead during my sabbatical.

It is at least a distinct possibility that the 2017 budget will include salary for only one priest at Christ Church Cathedral. That means this sabbatical time is an opportunity for us to experience life with one clergy. That means there will be opportunities both for the baptized to step up and take new roles and responsibilities and also to discern what things might need to be laid down.

It is NOT a time to burn out the priest that you will have. It is important not just for Amy’s health but for the health of the congregation that she not over-function during this time – so that everyone can get a clear picture of what sustainable ministry is like with one full-time priest on staff.

Next week, in my final installment of this series, I’ll talk about the plans Chapter and I have made for structure, function and governance during the sabbatical.

Some of what I have written here may cause you to be anxious. I want to tell you that none of it makes me anxious. I believe God’s hand is firmly on this Cathedral community and if we engage in honest reflection, discernment and embracing this new experience we will, with God’s help, chart a course for a tremendous future for Christ Church Cathedral.

I am grateful for the opportunity for this sabbatical for us all … and for the work that we will be doing throughout.

God is about to show up and do something extraordinary.

I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress. (Isaiah 65:17-19)

More often than not, the lectionary gives us wisdom and inspiration right when we need it. That happened -- at least for me -- this morning as the Eucharistic lectionary for Monday in the fourth week of Lent gave us this from Isaiah.

It's from the third part of Isaiah. The people of Israel have returned from exile but even though they are home, all is not well. When they were in exile, they dreamed of the wonders of return, and -- don't get them wrong, it's much better than being in exile -- life is still really, really, really hard. There is still deep brokenness in relationship between God and the people and among the people themselves.

All is not well. All is not as it should be.

And then God says this:

I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.

We Episcopalians don't like to talk about eschatology -- the end times. We don't like to talk about it because that conversation has been so associated with fundamentalism, fire & brimstone and the Left Behind series that we fear being tainted by association.

But we avoid (or even reject) our eschatology at our own great peril and sadness. Because our eschatology is our hope, that sure and certain hope that no matter what things seem like now, that God is always about to do show up and do something extraordinary. That sure and certain hope that even the worst conditions are redeemable and transformable.

That sure and certain hope that is expressed in the protest chant: "I know that we will win."

I spent a little time this morning having a "conversation" on Twitter with a downtown resident who is frustrated about homelessness downtown and thinks I and Christ Church Cathedral aren't doing enough about it.

I share his frustration. I want all of us to be doing more. I want us to be learning each other's names across class and race lines. Listening deeply to each other's stories. Pooling our resources to ensure that every person lives in a way that befits the dignity that should be accorded an image of God. Dismantling systems that oppress by helping some have much and others have not nearly enough.

I wish there was an easy answer. A switch to flip that makes it all better. A way to get us all on the same page and swimming in the same direction.

And I'm tired - and we all are.

We are tired that poverty abides and even grows -- though I am not nearly as tired as those images of God among us who truly live in poverty.

We are tired of the complexities and messiness of coming together across boundaries of race and class -- though I am not nearly as tired as those images of God among us who are parts of targeted races and classes.

We are tired of having the same meetings and same conversations and hearing the same tired program proposals that have never been fully funded or implemented because we can't muster the political will.

We are tired of family members and friends being diagnosed with cancer or incapacitated by strokes.

We are tired of the intractability of broken systems of education, policing and municipal government.

We are tired of giving money to really wonderful nonprofits and then feeling like things are still getting worse.

We are tired of friends who betray us and leaders who govern by fear & fiat instead of faith & vision.

And if we are tired in this nation that has the most privilege, power and highest standard of living of any nation in history ... imagine how tired the rest of the world must be.

And yet, in the midst of this, God sings out:

I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress.

As followers of Jesus, we are called to be fools in the eyes of the world. We are called to believe after a human history of struggle that God is about to show up and do something extraordinary. And even more, we are called to trust that God will do that extraordinary work of re-creation, redemption and transformation through us. That our hands are God's hands. That our ears are God's ears. That our lips -- lips that speak, lips that sing, lips that kiss this world deeply and passionately -- are God's lips.

We are at that part of Lent where the time in the desert feels like it will never end. And our Lents are much longer than 40 days.

Together, let us try not to fear.

Together, let us try not to lose hope.

Together, let us strain to hear and trust that God is about to show up and do something extraordinary.

Together, let us trust that God is about to create a new heaven, a new earth, a new Christ Church Cathedral, a new St. Louis.

Together, let us offer ourselves anew to be part of that new creation, foolish as the world may tell us we are for believing in it.

Together, let us join God in proclaiming in joyful song that God looks at God's people -- each and all of us -- who are destined for that new creation -- and God does not despair but instead rejoices and delights.

Together, let us shelter each other when we need rest, and wipe away each other's tears.

And together, let us claim our belief that the day is coming when the sounds of weeping and cries of distress indeed will be no more.

That God is about to show up and do something extraordinary. And that we get to be a part of it.

Sabbatical – What is it? (Part 1 of 3)

And on the seventh day God finished the work that God had done, and God rested on the seventh day from all the work that God had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that God had done in creation. (Genesis 2:2-3)

Sabbath is rest. It is not only a primary human need it is one of the most ancient commandments of our faith (#4 of the Big Ten if you’re counting) – so important that we see God modeling it for us in the stories of creation.

The punishment for breaking the Sabbath commandment was death (Exodus 31:14)… which, frankly, always seemed a little extreme to me, until I really thought about it.

First off, if we don’t take Sabbath … if we don’t rest … we die. Without rest, our bodies deteriorate, we are more susceptible to life-shortening illnesses and events and our lifespans shrink. Medical science has proven that Sabbath – rest – literally is a matter of life and death.

But even more important (seriously … even more important than life and death) is that ignoring Sabbath leads to spiritual death.

The first commandment is “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of bondage in Egypt, you shall have no other gods before me.” When we ignore Sabbath, when we don’t take time to rest and to let the world go on without us, we are saying with our lives that we are indispensable. We are committing the original sin of Adam and Eve in putting ourselves in the place of God … only worse because even God rested on the seventh day!

When we ignore Sabbath, we are committing idolatry and violating this commandment. We are saying with our lives that God and the world can’t possibly do without us even for a day. It is the first, great step to squeezing out God altogether and constructing a world that is all about – and completely dependent on – us.

Through our time together at Christ Church Cathedral, I have not been good at Sabbath. And it has been an idolatry that has ill-served this Cathedral, my family and myself. From the very beginning, I let my own need to prove myself and my love for this community and the work we share lead me to taking on too much, working through my days off and sleeping fewer and fewer hours a night.

And, predictably, this has taken tolls on those same two levels that Exodus presages.

The first is my health. After seven years, I am exhausted. My blood pressure is creeping up. My capacity for creative thought is waning. I am in deep need of rest and restoration.

The second is an aspect of the spiritual health of this congregation. As I prepare for my sabbatical, I hear voices of anxiety being raised. Voices that question how we will face the considerable challenges before us with me gone for five-plus months. Voices that make me realize I have not done nearly a good enough job of teaching us by my actions that the future and fate of Christ Church Cathedral does not rest in the hands of your Dean, but of God and of one another.

And so, as was announced at the annual meeting Eucharist, starting the day after Easter, I am going on Sabbatical through the day after Labor Day. And I am doing this both as an act of self-care (one that is provided for me in my letter of agreement … though Chapter has, I am grateful to say, recognized that what I am owed contractually is not enough for the restorative task and has expanded it) and an opportunity to do the work of establishing healthier patterns of living for the years to come, but also an act of spiritual leadership as your Dean – to practice what I have been preaching these last seven years and that is faithfulness to and trust in Jesus as the only barometer of our success that matters.

This will be a true sabbatical for me. I will have no major travel or big writing project. When people ask me what I will be doing, I say the primary things will be sleeping and reading. I will be doing some writing not with an end product in mind but as a way of journaling and processing the past seven years we have traveled together. My prayer is that during these five months you all will find time to do the same. To realize that some things that I do will need to be taken up by others but that others will fall by the wayside – and that will be OK.

Over the next two weeks, I will be writing more about sabbatical. Next week, I will write about the opportunity I believe this sabbatical presents not just for me but for all of us. The week after that, I will lay out the plan – worked out with Vicar Amy Cortright, our wardens and Chapter – about how things will run and lines of authority and process while I am gone.

I look forward to this month together as we journey toward Calvary and the empty tomb. And I welcome the chance to talk about these and many other things as much as you like.

In Christ’s love,

I listen to you and then I believe you.

“I listen to you and then I believe you.”

KB Frazier drums and leads chants as part of the
protest at St. Louis City Police Headquarters
last night.

Last night, I and a couple other CCC members stood in the middle of Olive Street in front of the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters with around 70 other people protesting an incident that happened the night before.

The family of one of our black activist leaders, KB Frazier (also a worship leader and board member at Central Reform Congregation as well as an awesome drummer) was pulled over by the police without evident cause and their car was approached by two officers with guns drawn. Among those in the car was two year old Ethan, who stood up in the back seat, began to cry out of terror and was told to “sit down and shut up” by one of the officers.

I joined KB and others in the street last night because I took baptismal vows to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving my neighbor as myself and to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being – and the actions of those officers and the system of policing that supports them is neither just, dignified nor honoring of the image of God that is on every human being.

I joined KB and others in the street last night because Jesus calls me to stand with those most on the margins, because that’s where Jesus is.

I joined KB and others in the street last night because the behavior of those officers is not only dangerous, traumatizing and potentially deadly, it is not worthy of this City of St. Louis that I love.

Throughout today, I have been asked repeatedly:

“But how do you know that it actually happened?”

“Where is the evidence?”

“You know you can’t really prove it, right?”

And that leads me to the last reason I joined KB and others in the street last night.

Because I listened to KB, and I believed him.

When Bishop Gene Robinson was here at Christ Church Cathedral last spring, he told a story of a conversation he had with a student at Colby College in Maine about “what white guys can do to ‘get it’ about the experience of black people in America.” (if you click on the link, the story comes at about the 1:35:00 mark).

“Here’s what he told me was the first thing I can do,” Gene said.

“I listen to you and then I believe you.”

“We listen to someone who is different from us, and then we believe it’s their truth. It may not be my truth or anything out of my experience but it’s true for you. And then we have a chance to talk.”

Gene went on to say: “There are a lot of white people in America with not a clue as to why Ferguson happened they way it did. That’s just not their experience. OK, fine. Can you listen to someone for whom that is their experience and believe that it is their experienced truth?”

“And then we can start to talk.”

I’m not saying my belief in KB by itself should have the power of judge and jury. No one person’s should. Our legal system is rightly based on rules of evidence. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. I’m not asking for officers to be convicted purely because KB or I say they should.

I am talking about listening and believing to a truth that is different from my own … and maybe different from your own as well.

We are talking about the lived experience of policing of people who have grown up black and brown in this country. And it is very different from my own. And in the face of that difference, my job -- particularly but certainly not exclusively when the speaker is someone I have come to know as a person of deep integrity and courage – is clear.

I listen to him and I believe him.

And one more thing.

I stand with him.

I stand with KB because we can’t start to talk, we can’t start to have the conversations that will lead to true reconciliation, that will lead to change, that will lead to us becoming the Beloved Community until we as a community truly listen to the voices that are coming off the streets. Until we listen to them and believe them … believe that they are telling their truth. And that it is a truth that needs to be honored and respected and believed.

I am grateful for the young black women, men and gender nonconforming persons in our community who refuse to “sit down and shut up” – even when guns are pointed at them. Who amplify Ethan’s cries and demand they be heard, that his name be known and that the trauma be believed.

I am grateful because I am so aware of how many times I have failed and still continue to fail to listen and believe.

I am grateful because I know the only way we will ever become the city God dreams for us to be is if their voices keep shouting.

If other voices like mine join and amplify them.

If all of us learn to listen and believe.

Men of the Church: It's time to call out misogyny. It's time for women to lead.

For the past 19 months, I have watched women’s leadership change this community and change this nation. Women like Brittany Packnett, Traci Blackmon, Brittany Ferrell, Susan Talve, Ashley Yates, Johnetta Elzie, Karen Anderson, Elle Dowd, Felicia Pulliam, Deb Krause, Amy Hunter, Rebecca Ragland, Momma Cat, (and gender nonconforming people like Alexis Templeton.). They have brought their whole selves to the struggle for black lives and human rights. They have been my leaders and my inspiration, and I am honored and grateful to be led by them.

And every step of the way, they have fought men trying to control them.

Minimize them.

Dismiss them.

Erase them.

The Church has a long history of controlling, minimizing, dismissing, and erasing women. In fact, throughout history, you’d be hard pressed to find a greater offender. That’s why it is particularly important for men in the church to speak out now.

For our entire nation’s history, if you are a woman you have to work at least twice as hard to get half as far (and again, for women of color – multiply that out by a whole bunch.).

The church – despite believing that “in the image of God they were created, male and female God created them.” – instead of transforming the culture, has mirrored it – and even worse. As of last summer, only 6.4% of Episcopal bishops were women. Women are a superminority of rectors of large congregations.

Our male supremacist nation continues to equate tokenism and individual women breaking barriers with real change. In America the gender pay gap remains at 21 percent – and considerably worse for women of color. And that doesn't talk about how women are treated and judged differently in the workplace. How women are subject to harassment at exponentially greater rates than men. How women have their health care options limited by the same men who scream about how "Obamacare will make you lose the choice of your doctor."

And while this has happened, what are we saying?

For decades and even centuries, men have told women to be patient, work within the system, and change will happen.

So let’s look at that.

A woman does that. A woman works the system incredibly well. She uses every opportunity and "despoils every Egyptian" (it's in Exodus -- look it up) so that she can have the same chance as a man to use her leadership gifts.

She does this so well that she becomes a U.S. Senator, the Secretary of State and on the cusp of her party’s nomination for president.

And what happens?

I mean, in addition to her being called “ambitious” where a man would be called “visionary” and being called “manipulative” where a man would be called “clever.”

I mean, in addition to her wardrobe being evaluated in ways that Marco Rubio’s tie choice never warrants.

I mean, in addition to her being singled out and vigorously labeled "dishonest" and "untrustworthy" to a degree that even a president who lied to get us into a war didn't come close to having to face.

I mean, in addition to all the criticisms that would be seen as strengths if she were a man – but instead make her “less likable” because we men are both threatened by strong women and in general don’t like women who fit into our own self-centering definition of what gender-specific behavior should be?

She gets called “Too establishment”

She gets called “Part of the problem.”

She gets called a bitch -- though not on TV, because that would be politically incorrect. On TV she just gets called "pushy."

Vote for Bernie. Vote for Hillary. Vote for who shares your values. Vote for whose vision for this country sets your heart on fire. Vote for the person who can get the job done. Vote for whomever you like. Criticize whomever you like – for surely there are legitimate criticisms of every candidate.

But recognize what is going on here. And recognize it not just in this election but in our church.

We men tell women that it really is a level playing field (which it’s not), and that women just have to work hard, play by the rules and work the system.

That generally means -- just act like men.

And then when women do, we men penalize them for it because they don’t fit men’s image of what a woman should be.

And still, even when women do act like men and work the system (and definitely if they don’t), we men call them "pushy" and "dishonest." We talk about being “uncomfortable” with women’s leadership or “not ready” for women’s leadership.  And that is seen as being perfectly acceptable and rational.

For the past 19 months, I have watched women’s leadership change this community and change this nation.

For the past 20 years, I have had amazing Episcopal clergy colleagues like Amy Cortright, Christine McSpadden, Jennifer Baskerville-Burrows, Paige Blair, Kate Moorehead, Suzanne Willie, Winnie Varghese, Becca Stevens, Stephanie Spellers, Dahn Gandell, Sherilyn Pearce, Penny Bridges, Gail Greenwell, Yejide Peters, Elizabeth Easton, Beth Scriven, Hope Welles Jernagan, Debbie Shew, Amy McCreath, Pamela Dolan, Emily Mellott, Emily Wachner, Amber Stancliffe Evans - I could go on and on and on and on and on (and apologies to the legions I’m leaving out) – change this church and teach ME what being a priest is all about.

I have seen them have to work at least twice as hard to get at least half as far.

I have seen them get judged on scales I never have to worry about.

I have seen them struggle with incredible grace and power against the misogyny of our church, our St. Louis community and this country.

And it is time for this to be over. It is time for this to be over for our church. It is time for this to be over for our nation.

The first step in any healing is recognizing that we have a problem.

The second step is doing something about it.

Jesus gave women the most important leadership ministry in the history of history – proclaiming the resurrection.

Paul bids us to “have the same mind in us that is in Christ Jesus” and empty ourselves, giving up power and privilege.

Whomever you vote for, it is time for we men to ask what we are doing to dismantle the systems of patriarchy that are binding our church and our nation. That are preventing us from fully realizing and benefitting from the gifts of more than 50% of our population.

We need to look in the mirror and examine our “uncomfortability” and instead of giving into it, lean the other way.

We need to look in the mirror and be honest with ourselves – and not immediately get all fragile and defensive -- about how we have unconscious bias about both race and gender ... and that this is to all of our poverty.

We need actively to promote women for leadership positions. For the past several years, when people have asked me for names for rector or bishop positions I have only given women’s names. And still so few of them have been chosen. What if everyone did this?

We men need to stand up for women, knowing that even in 2016 women still have to work twice as hard to get half as far.

This is not a political post. This is a theological one.

I am a follower of Jesus Christ. And Jesus bids me to see Christ in all people, to value their gifts – including their leadership – and to bring people from the margins to the center until such time as there are no margins left.

Women are still on the margins. And as the Church, we have been one of the worst offenders in keeping women there.

As followers of Jesus, now we must be among the loudest voices demanding change. Not just with our lips but with our lives.

Women’s leadership will change our communities, our nation, our church and our world. Men ... we need to get out of the way.

Who's with me?

Smelling with the mind of Christ.

"A church without beggars is a museum." - Becca Stevens

This morning, I sat in the back of Christ Church Cathedral to listen to one of our seminarians, Andrew Suitter, preach. We are a wonderfully diverse community at CCC, but we still internally self-segregate. Come in on a Sunday morning and you will find that those of us who had a warm bed and a shower last night will sit in the front and in the middle, and those of us who slept in shelters or on the streets last night gravitate toward the back and the sides.

So this morning, I sat in the back, and as I listened to Andrew unpack the reading from Corinthians, the fragrances of those sitting around me wafted into my nostrils. And they made me think.

What makes a smell good? What makes a smell bad?

What makes one smell of beauty and another of ugliness?

It's our minds, isn't it? Smell is just our brain interpreting nerve impulses. We have learned over time to interpret some of those positively and others negatively. We have evolved over time to privilege some odors over others. Why else would we not only pay huge sums of money for certain perfumes and Febreze and other "odor eliminators" a multimillion dollar industry?

It's our minds, isn't it? It's all in our minds.

In the letter to the Philippians, Paul and Timothy urge us to "have the same mind in you that was in Christ Jesus" -- then goes on to talk about giving up privilege and emptying ourselves for the life of the world.

And so I wonder -- how does the mind of Christ smell? How are those nerve impulses that travel up the olfactory nerve interpreted in the mind of Christ?

I breathed in deeply through my nose.  Fragrances of well-worn bodies, remnants of cigarettes and traces of urine filled me. Strong fragrances.

But who is to say they are good or bad?

What would they smell like in the mind of Christ?

I took another deep breath. I tried to imagine these smells as perfume. When I looked around and saw that some of the people they came from I could name ... and I knew ... and I love ... it became a lot easier.

This is not to glorify poverty. This is not to say that all of us shouldn't have a good bed and a hot shower and a place to go to the bathroom. Part of how we have evolved to interpret some smells as bad and others as good is because there are real health ramifications connected with them.

This is not to glorify poverty -- but it is to say that neither do those of us who are not bound by it need to fear it. None of us should hold our noses but breathe it in deeply, realizing that these are the fragrances of the beautiful people of God.

I am going to try to breathe deeply and smell differently from now on. When my first reaction is to hold my nose and pull away, I'm going to breathe in the perfumes of God's beloved.  I'm going to try to remember that I have odors that others might want to pull away from, too -- and that I hope others will approach my odors the same way!

I'm going to try to smell with the mind of Christ. And hope that will be one small step in me giving myself for the world in Christ's name as well.

Sabbatical

At Sunday’s Annual Meeting Eucharist, Senior Warden Lorraine Kee announced that Chapter has approved a sabbatical for me during 2016. Combined with vacation time, this means that I will be away from the Cathedral from March 28 (the day after Easter) until Sept. 6 (the day after Labor Day).

Sabbatical is based on the Biblical notion of rest (or Sabbath) being an essential part of the rhythm of life, as modeled by God resting on the seventh day of creation (Genesis 2:2). Because it is a part of dedicating our life to God and also a guard against the idolatry of believing in our own centrality and indispensability, the punishment the law assigned to violating the Sabbath was death (Exodus 31:14). Clearly, this is important stuff!

I am not just taking this sabbatical because I am owed it (it is a part of every clergy letter of agreement), because Chapter has granted it and because scripture demands it. I am taking it because both I and this Cathedral community need it.

During our seven years together, one of my highest priorities has been us growing healthier as the Body of Christ. Together we have established more honest and healthier patterns of communication, talked openly about the role of alcohol and addiction in our family systems, opened our doors to the neighborhood and city in new ways and also been unafraid to bring the conflicts and divisions of race and class of our city into our own community.

Your chapter has transitioned from a model of more autocratic, clergy-driven leadership to a model of shared leadership where difficult issues are wrestled with openly and the real conversations happen around the table not in the parking lot.

Systems do not get healthier than their leaders … and I am recognizing the ways I need to get healthier -- both for my sake and for yours. I work too many hours and spread myself to thinly. I too easily fall victim to the idolatry of believing that I have to do it if it is to happen and not trust enough in God and the gathered community.

That has taken a toll on me. I have not been operating at full capacity for several months, and my Bishop, Vicar, wardens, therapist, doctor and wife all agree I need a time of unplugging, recharging and reconnecting with family and God apart from the work of ministry.

There has been a toll on the Cathedral as well. As much as we have worked together to build structures of shared leadership, my overfunctioning runs the risk of turning the Cathedral into a system not centered on the Holy Spirit working through the Body of Christ but on the person and personality of her dean.

That’s why this sabbatical is for all of us. We are a far healthier body today than seven years ago – ready to face the challenges ahead of us. And part of that readiness means I can step away for a season, and we all can trust God’s grace and the people of this Cathedral will be up to the task.

Given how we have talked about what a critical year this is for Christ Church Cathedral – facing a $200K+ budget deficit -- this might seem like a strange time for a sabbatical, but Chapter agreed it is actually the perfect time.

Because of the transition we have made into shared leadership your Chapter is absolutely equipped to lead during this time – and in fact it is the healthiest thing.

During my sabbatical, Chapter will be constructing options for a balanced budget for 2017. Some options will likely involve staff restructuring (it is hard to imagine making up a $200K+ deficit without it) and that means all staff jobs – including my own – will be on the table. Your Chapter – and indeed the larger congregation -- is well equipped to have those conversations without me … and in fact it is important we all trust one another to do that.

In addition, the financial realities we are facing for 2017 mean it is a real possibility we will only be able to be a one-clergy congregation going forward. Though we are lining up clergy to help out Amy during my absence, this will be an important exercise in seeing what that reality would be like.

During the next two and a half months, we will have opportunities to talk about what all this means – and certainly I am happy to meet with anyone about any excitements, questions or concerns.

As we approach our time apart, I ask that you consider what this might mean for you stepping up in new ways in our community … and also how you might specifically support the work of and care for your Chapter and especially your Vicar, Amy Cortright, who will be under added strain during this time.

I look forward to our next two and half months together, to our time apart, and to sharing what we have learned when we come together again.