The 213th Annual Council - Diocese of Virginia
The 213th Annual Council - Diocese of Virginia
The 213th Annual Council - Diocese of Virginia
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Proceedings<br />
remaining. I have met with several <strong>of</strong> the regional councils, and will be scheduling the<br />
rest. I have toured and have been generously hosted in place after place after place. I<br />
have seen and taken part in inspiring, and even improbable, ministries <strong>of</strong> outreach and<br />
witness—from the Shenandoah to the peninsulas, from Northern <strong>Virginia</strong> to the bluffs <strong>of</strong><br />
the James. I have been awed by congregations that began in the 1600s, I have been blown<br />
away by new church-starts and I have been incomparably inspired by our continuing<br />
congregations in the aftermath <strong>of</strong> December 2006. I have heard my own sermon be given<br />
in Korean (every native Alabamian should be so blessed). I think I did a creditable job <strong>of</strong><br />
keeping up with Shrine Mont staff on the Frisbee-football field, but then put myself into<br />
serious question with a perhaps-all-too-accurate impersonation <strong>of</strong> Bob Dylan on-stage<br />
with Hoss at the Bishop’s Bluegrass Festival. I have been immersed in a diocese that<br />
is committed, clear and vibrant in the vision and work <strong>of</strong> the Gospel, even as dissent,<br />
distress and anxiety remain very real—and understandably so. In all people and places,<br />
I have moved among a diocesan family that is just that—a family, including all realities<br />
that such a defining word allows. In eight months, week after week, I have held strands<br />
<strong>of</strong> God’s abundant love and have seen these strands become interwoven and show as a<br />
single thing—a complex, detailed and colorful beauty—the ecclesial version <strong>of</strong> a priceless<br />
Oriental rug.<br />
In all <strong>of</strong> that I have seen God’s abundance indeed. Not out <strong>of</strong> largest or oldest or “bestest”<br />
or “most-est,” but because <strong>of</strong> the very palpability <strong>of</strong> God’s love—love given to you,<br />
love you give to one another and love you give to a hurting and wanting world (and, I<br />
should add, love given to Ellen and me so very graciously). <strong>The</strong> abundance in the <strong>Diocese</strong><br />
<strong>of</strong> <strong>Virginia</strong> is to us, with us and from us. May it always be so!<br />
That abundance is surely unquestionable, present in so many ways—spiritually,<br />
monetarily, in mission at home and far abroad, as vision, energy, commitment, generosity.<br />
Even so, it is this very abundance across our <strong>Diocese</strong> that, ironically, shows me that<br />
all too <strong>of</strong>ten our places are thinking and playing “small.” Now hear me about this:<br />
the well known columnist William Raspberry, who’s retired now, is from Okolona,<br />
Mississippi, only 20 miles from where I was in Tupelo. He addressed our <strong>Annual</strong> <strong>Council</strong><br />
in Mississippi and he used this image <strong>of</strong> the church playing “small” basketball in the<br />
ACC. He says that the church—by its nature and by what is given to it—is like a power<br />
forward, but that all to <strong>of</strong>ten the churches want to be the pretty point guard. It wants to<br />
take the pretty jump shots when instead we should be using who we are, doing what<br />
we do best by being where the power forward is, making a difference on the inside and<br />
being able to clear the space to do that. And not doing that is what he means by saying<br />
we’re playing small.<br />
So, by this, I do not refer to anything having to do with simple numbers. From my own<br />
experience as a priest with a very small congregation, I know full well that the small<br />
places can, in fact, do some <strong>of</strong> the biggest things—that is, the work that truly makes a<br />
difference. I’ve seen this in truly remarkable examples here in <strong>Virginia</strong>. Other than this,<br />
remember that even our smallest places that seem unable to mount much effort on their<br />
own are an integral part <strong>of</strong> one <strong>of</strong> the very largest dioceses in the Episcopal Church, and<br />
are therefore connected to what our Church is doing everywhere. All it takes is to hold<br />
that reality close to heart—and then do something about it. And I know first-hand from<br />
our larger congregations that they stand willing and able to include you in that. But all <strong>of</strong><br />
this is just as true for the larger congregations—even the very largest.<br />
You have already heard Bishop Lee speak about the tremendous challenge we face as a<br />
diocese with respect to the very small average-percentage giving rate from our churches<br />
80<br />
<strong>The</strong> <strong>Diocese</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Virginia</strong> t Journal <strong>of</strong> the the 213 th <strong>Annual</strong> <strong>Council</strong>