Editorial Philosophy?

I was listening recently to Bishop Steven Charleston, the Ethnic and Multicultural Minister for the Diocese of San Francisco and the new provost at Grace Cathedral, who was appearing for the first time on that church's excellent "weekly program of conversations and issues that matter" called The Forum (sound familiar?). I was really inspired by Bishop Charleston's Feb. 1 comments, and I wanted to share a short excerpt here because I thought they expressed a great vision for the vocation of the Episcopal Church (we get asked about that a lot) and perhaps also a useful editorial philosophy for this blog. I encourage you to check out the podcast, which is currently available at the above link and will probably soon move to the archives here. (Incidentally, Bishop Charleston is a hell of a preacher as well, and you can also catch his sermon from that day.) These comments came around the twenty minute mark:

Why is there an Episcopal Church? What's the point? Why are we here? Listen, I've thought about this and I'll tell you something. I believe that the Episcopal Church, the Anglican Communion, is here not by accident. We didn't just happen; we're here for a reason and for a purpose. We follow a God of history, do we not? We follow a God that we say is a God who intervenes and acts within time and space in the lives of real human beings to effect change, to make something happen. And that all of us play a part in it.

What's the part the Episcopal Church is playing? Why are we here? I believe it is because the Episcopal Church, the Anglican Communion as I said, represents common ground where men and women can actually come and believe that it is possible for them to hold very different opinions, and live very different lifestyles, and still have a common ground where they can live in reconciliation and peace with one another and share for the common good.

I believe the Episcopal Church was created for this purpose and for this moment in time and history. Pardon me if I wax a little metaphysical on you, but as a Bishop of this church I've staked me life on it. And I'm here to say to you, in all honesty, I believe we were made for this moment. I believe we're the church made for crisis. We're the church that is prepared for conflict. We're the church that understands what it means to live in a moment like this, when people are anxious and afraid because things around them seem to be falling apart.

I'm always a little wary of blog posts where the quotation is longer than the accompanying analysis, but I'm afraid there's not much else I can add to that. Except maybe to say thanks to Bishop Charleston for articulating the intermingled hopes and anxieties that I think many of us around here are feeling. And to encourage you to check out the whole podcast.

Introducing St. Francis Forum

We're launching this little blog during what seems like an appropriate liturgical season. In Epiphany, we're encouraged to reflect on the ways Jesus calls us to be his disciples. That discernment is a constant theme in our life at St. Francis House, and probably all campus ministries. After all, most of us students are trying to figure out--often with frustrating degrees of success--what it is we're supposed to do with our lives.

A few weeks ago, we heard one such story: the calling of Nathanael. There's a lot to admire, I think, in this short exchange between Philip and Nathanael in the first chapter of the final gospel:

Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth." Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see." (John 1:45-46, NRSV)

Philip's greeting certainly reveals a joyous enthusiasm, but given the gravity of his claim and the recentness of his conversion, I'm not sure whether to be impressed with or skeptical of it. Nathanael seems to choose the latter approach. But now Philip's response to him is measured and humble, seemingly grounded in a spiritual maturity that we might not have expected in light of his first (hasty?) outburst: "Come and see." And so Nathanael does, and we soon learn that he's destined to see "greater things than these."

I dig this wide range of responses to the Good News: exuberance, skepticism, and--ultimately--a pointing beyond one's self. This story paints a picture of discipleship that's true to my experience of the life of faith at a campus ministry and in the Episcopal Church. We don't always agree about the meaning and nature of the law and the prophets, but (on our best days) our disagreements and skepticism and brokenness don't prevent us from coming together in Christ and seeing the new and often amazing things that God is doing in the world every day.

We hope this blog (and St. Francis House in general) can be a place to process these moments of both joy and frustration, discernment and confusion. So whether you're having a Philip day or a Nathanael day, we hope this forum will be useful to you. If you're interested in contributing to St. Francis Forum, drop us an email at blog@stfrancisuw.org.