Episcopal Church of the Redeemer

Worshiping God, living in community, reaching out to the world.

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  • The Rev. Charlie Holt election challenged

    The Rev. Charlie Holt election challenged

    There are concerns about the election of the Rev. Charlie Holt as bishop coadjutor of the Diocese of Florida. These concerns range from procedural matters to fitness for office. Following is an article from the Episcopal News Service and a resolution adopted by the Vestry of the Church of the Redeemer at its May 24, 2022, meeting.

    Florida bishop coadjutor election challenged with formal objection, effort to deny consent

    [Episcopal News Service] The Diocese of Florida announced May 25 that a formal objection to the May 14, 2022, election of the Rev. Charlie Holt as bishop coadjutor has been filed with the diocese.

    The objection, signed by 37 clergy and lay deputies to the diocese’s special election convention, claims that last-minute changes to the voting process violated diocesan canons and that technical problems disrupted the vote, rendering the election invalid.

    In an email to members of the diocese acknowledging receipt of the objection, its Standing Committee and chancellor responded to the points of contention and denied any procedural errors or misconduct. No objections were raised during the election itself, they said, and the election was observed and confirmed by independent auditors.

    “We want to assure you – with the highest degree of confidence – that we believe in the election’s validity from every perspective,” the committee members and chancellor wrote. “We value the input and consciences of our few friends who have objected, and we will do everything we can to follow the proper channels so that their questions and concerns may be answered.”

    The Standing Committee and chancellor did not include the text of the objection itself along with their response, and diocesan staff would not provide a copy to Episcopal News Service, citing a desire to follow the canonical process and inform the presiding bishop’s office first. ENS obtained a copy of the six-page objection letter and verified with one of the signers that it is the document that was filed with the diocese.

    The May 14 election was held to choose a successor to the diocese’s current bishop, the Rt. Rev. Samuel Johnson Howard, who intends to retire in late 2023. Upon Howard’s retirement, the bishop coadjutor would become the ninth diocesan bishop. Holt, currently associate rector of teaching and formation at The Church of St. John the Divine in Houston, Texas, was one of five candidates.

    Disputed election practices

    In their objection letter, dated May 23, 2024, the 37 delegates claimed that the required clergy quorum for the election was not met, the agenda was not followed and there were “procedural and technical flaws” that interfered with remote voting.

    According to the objection, the diocese in April invited delegates to register for an in-person election at St. John’s Cathedral in Jacksonville, writing: “…the integrity of the election at this Special Convention will require that we pay very close attention to who is present. Therefore, if you do not register by the deadline, you will not be allowed to attend. There will be no exceptions.” However, the objection says, only 89 clergy delegates had registered by the May 9 deadline, below the two-thirds quorum of canonically resident clergy required by diocesan canons. The objection says the required clergy quorum was 116, “as stated by the election officials,” being two-thirds of 174 canonically resident clergy in the diocese.

    On May 12 (two days before the election), the diocese said there were not enough clergy registrants for a quorum and announced that clergy who had not yet registered could register to participate by Zoom, but that lay delegates could still only vote in person. Standing Committee President the Rev. Joe Gibbes told ENS that this change “permitted clergy impeded by factors such as COVID-19 risk, travel and emergencies to attend and vote digitally. This option was not offered to laity because unlike clergy delegates, lay delegates have alternates who can attend and act in their stead – where we had strong participation and there was never a question of reaching a quorum [among the laity].”

    The objection says that the diocese’s governing documents do not allow for remote voting. Gibbes told ENS that the Diocesan Council and chancellor “ensured that our bylaws permit online attendance and voting, according to Florida law.” He added that an “independent, non-Episcopal audit team” – the Forde Firm of Jacksonville (CPAs) – “was present on the Zoom [election] to ensure voting procedure was in accordance with all relevant laws.”

     

    The objection then says that on the morning of the election, the Diocesan Council changed the rules of order, which the delegates approved during the election. The objecting delegates’ letter says this violated The Episcopal Church’s Canon III.11.1(a), which requires the “adoption of rules and procedure for [such an] election … at a regular or special Diocesan Convention with sufficient time preceding the election … .”

    At the beginning of the livestreamed election, the credentials chairman said that 89 clergy delegates were present in person and 29 were attending remotely for a total of 118, “which is more than the two-thirds requirement for a quorum,” but he did not specify the exact number necessary to satisfy the quorum requirement.

    There were 138 lay delegates present out of 145, he said.

    After the third ballot, Howard announced that Holt received 64 votes from clergy and 80 from the laity. Howard then asked the auditors to confirm the results; one rose to the podium and said the election “had no irregularities in any of the votes or counts.”

    The number of voters in the final ballot was 125 clergy and 141 lay, according to the numbers provided by the diocese to ENS. The total number of voters in the final ballot cited in the objection is off by one; it counts one additional lay voter.

    According to the objecting delegates, the Zoom voting process did not go smoothly.

    “For clergy who were attempting to be present on remote voting, there was no orientation of how to vote, no testing of communications systems, no ‘trial vote’ to test whether all could vote, and in fact, at least two clergy could not see or hear the proceedings,” the objection letter reads. “When voting was taken, in at least one instance, the votes were not registered. Also, in-person delegates could not see nor could they hear the Zoom clergy.”

    Objection process

    The objection invokes a canonical process that has only been used twice before: in the 2018 bishop coadjutor election in the Diocese of Haiti and in the 2021 diocesan bishop election in the Diocese of Ecuador Central. Under Title III.11.8 in the Canons of The Episcopal Church, an objection may be filed within 10 days of a bishop election by a group of at least 10% of the voting delegates. The objection must be filed with the secretary of the diocesan convention, “setting forth in detail all alleged irregularities.” The canons do not specify what constitutes an “irregularity.”

    The objection is then forwarded to the presiding bishop, “who shall request the Court of Review of the Province in which the Diocese is located to investigate the complaint,” according to the current canons. However, General Convention amended the canons in 2018 to replace provincial courts of review (which had primarily handled appeals in clergy disciplinary cases) with a single churchwide Court of Review. That 2018 resolution changed all canonical references to courts of review in Title IV, but not in Title III. The Rt. Rev. Todd Ousley, bishop for the churchwide Office of Pastoral Development, told ENS that the remaining reference to a provincial court of review was an oversight and that objections would be referred to the churchwide Court of Review. A resolution to correct the error has been proposed for this summer’s General Convention. The Court of Review has 30 days to investigate and release a report of its findings.

    In an interview with ENS on May 25, Ousley said he had not received the letter of objection from the Diocese of Florida. The diocese’s secretary of convention must submit the letter to Presiding Bishop Michael Curry’s office within 10 days of receiving it.

    “When the presiding bishop receives notification of an objection to an episcopal election, it is a top priority of his and his staff to review and make arrangements to transmit to the Court of Review,” Ousley said.

    The Court of Review’s mandate is not necessarily to issue rulings on the canonical validity of election procedures, Ousley explained, but to write a report that is then sent to all diocesan standing committees and bishops with jurisdiction. A majority of each group must consent before a bishop-elect can be consecrated.

    Update, May 27, 2022. Read Statement from Bishop Todd Ousley on Diocese of Florida bishop election.

    Comments on race and sexuality

    In almost all cases, the consent process is a formality, but besides the objection filed by the 37 convention delegates, Holt’s election is facing additional challenges. Some Episcopalians have voiced objections to Holt’s election on social media, citing Holt’s views on same-sex marriage and statements that they view as intolerant or insulting to LGBTQ+ people and Black people. Some have said they are writing to their bishops and standing committees to encourage them not to consent to the election.

    In interviews and Q&A sessions with bishop candidates before the election, Holt has said he holds the view of marriage expressed in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer – that marriage is between a man and a woman. Since 2018, as a result of General Convention Resolution B012, same-sex marriage liturgies must be made available to all Episcopalians in countries where same-sex marriage is legal. The compromise resolution also allows bishops who disagree with same-sex marriage to delegate any required oversight of such marriages to another bishop. In a letter to the diocese after the election, Holt said B012 “will be followed and upheld to pastorally support both our progressive and conservative parishes.”

    “I will seek a harmonious relationship with the diocese, granting authority for marriages to parish rectors in keeping with the letter and spirit of Resolution B012-2018 and the canons of General Convention,” Holt told ENS in a May 24 email. Holt declined to comment on the alleged voting irregularities, adding, “I do not have anything to offer to that part of the story as I was a candidate and not responsible for the election.”

    In the days after the election, Episcopalians from the Diocese of Florida and beyond took to Twitter and posted statements Holt made during the Q&A sessions. An anonymous YouTube account uploaded edited clips of two of Holt’s answers during those sessions, as well as a compilation of his other answers. The description of the account, “Episcopal Bishop Election Info,” reads: “Information for Standing Committees and Bishops to review as they consider whether to give consent to Episcopal elections throughout the church.”

    In an answer to one of multiple questions about how he would lead a diocese with diverse views on sexuality, Holt noted a heightened focus on LGBTQ+ issues in America and in The Episcopal church, “and by singularly focusing on one thing, we actually are a little off. And so it’s not to say that those are not important, or those people that are represented by the letters are not important. They are super important. They are children of God who need to be welcomed into the life of our church. We have something to give to them and they have things and gifts to give to us. Don’t hear me wrong. But if that is the only thing that we ever talk about all the time – which, sometimes it feels like it is – then we’re a little sick. Because you can’t talk about sex all the time. That’s not healthy. It’s not healthy for the LGBTQIA people for us to focus on them all the time.”

    Holt then appeared to indirectly draw a comparison with his own life and suggested that LGBTQ+ people might “give up” something to follow Jesus, as he did.

    “It’s not a commitment that says, ‘I can come in the doors and you have to receive me and accept me just the way I am. And I’m never going to change,’” he said. “I had to give up a lot of things when I became a Christian. I was a frat boy at the University of Florida. And I was not living a godly lifestyle. … Over time, God dealt with the various things in my life that needed to be changed.”

    In response to a question about diversity, Holt told a story about when he had previously served in the diocese and was the only white minister at a rally in Sanford, Florida, protesting the 2012 killing of Trayvon Martin. He said he was initially reluctant to speak and that he did not want to be seen in front of signs saying “Trayvon Martin: A modern-day lynching.” After encouragement from a Black pastor, Holt recalled, he did speak, even though the signs “didn’t quite represent my perspective.”

    Campaign to withhold consent

    Episcopalians including author Diana Butler Bass objected to Holt’s Q&A responses on Twitter and suggested that they were grounds for withholding consent to his election.

    https://twitter.com/dianabutlerbass/status/1526948003042443267

    One Connecticut priest – the Rev. Melissa Rohrbach – has created an online petition for other clergy in her diocese to urge their standing committee to withhold consent. A clergy Facebook group is keeping a running tally of standing committees they have contacted in a Google Doc.

    In his letter to the diocese responding to the concerns over his comments on race and sexuality, Holt said his “commitment is to be a faithful pastor to all. I am committed to embracing the diversity that the people of the Diocese of Florida represent.”

    Reiterating his commitment to uphold Resolution B012, Holt wrote, “I highly respect those who hold a different view than my own. I have always learned the most from dialogue with those who disagree with me. This is why my first mission as bishop-elect will be to listen, from one end of the Diocese of Florida, geographically and theologically, to the other. I am respectful of the lives, experiences, and opinions of all others, and I hope for the same from others.”

    Referring to Trayvon Martin’s killing, Holt wrote, “God used that moment to work change in my life which has served my ministry of reconciliation to this day,” adding that he and a Black pastor started an interracial group called Sanford Pastors Connecting dedicated to racial reconciliation after Trayvon Martin’s killing. One of their ministries was to be “pastoral observers” at the trial of George Zimmerman, who killed Trayvon Martin.

    “It will be my priority as Bishop to lead our diocese in the work of racial reconciliation. This begins with honoring our historic Black congregations,” Holt wrote. “I will encourage all of our congregations to build strong Christian ties with their nearest Black congregation neighbors in other Christian denominations. This is at the heart of what it means to be the Beloved Community.”

    On May 25, the leadership of the LGBTQ+ Caucus in the House of Deputies sent a memo to its members and the General Convention Office expressing “grave concern” about Holt’s election. Linking to the YouTube videos of Holt’s Q&A responses – including one in which he described learning about racial injustice in a conversation with a Black pastor that included both Trayvon Martin’s killing and the unsolved killings of other Black men – the caucus leaders wrote, “We decry Fr. Holt’s comments regarding race and racism, which were deeply offensive and objectionable.”

    The deputies also wrote that Holt’s promise to uphold B012 “does nothing to ensure even a base level of acceptable treatment for most LGBTQ+ Episcopalians and our allies. Would a Bishop Holt stymie the clergy of his diocese who were in favor of officiating same-sex weddings? Would he prohibit congregations from hiring an LGBTQ+ clergy or layperson?”

    “We urge every bishop with jurisdiction and every Standing Committee to sincerely consider these concerns and if necessary request further clarification from Fr. Holt and the Diocese of Florida before discerning whether to offer consent to his election,” the memo concluded.

    Once the presiding bishop receives the objection to Holt’s election, it will alter the timeline of the consent process, according to Ousley. It is up to the presiding bishop to determine when to refer the objection to the Court of Review, starting their 30-day investigative period. The normal 120-day period for bishops and standing committees to decide whether they will consent to the election does not start until the objection process has been completed and the Court of Review has submitted its report.

    According to the diocese, Holt is scheduled to be consecrated bishop coadjutor in October.

    “I welcome the opportunity to speak with any bishop and members of any standing committee if they have questions about my views,” Holt told ENS. “My goal is to bring unity and love to this wonderful Diocese and its people.”

    – Egan Millard is an assistant editor and reporter for Episcopal News Service. He can be reached at emillard@episcopalchurch.org.

    Response by the bishop-elect

    The Rev. Charlie Holt, whose election as bishop coadjutor in the Diocese of Florida has been challenged on procedural and ideological grounds, responded to concerns raised by some Episcopalians about his positions on race, sexuality and church polity in a June 16 video message to members of the diocese and The Episcopal Church. Holt apologized for what he described as poor word choices and defended his record on engaging across cultures as a priest in the video, which comes after General Convention deputies filed a proposed resolution expressing concern about his election. Read the response by the Rev. Charlie Holt.

    The resolution approved by the Vestry at Church of the Redeemer

    At its meeting on May 24, 2022, the Vestry of the Church of the Redeemer passed this resolution:

    Resolved, that the Vestry of the Church of the Redeemer wishes to convey to the Standing Committee of the Diocese of Olympia our grave reservation about the fitness of the Rev. Charles Holt, the bishop-elect of the Diocese of Florida, to carry out the ministry to which he has been elected based on his stances in regards both race and LGBTQIA+ equality and equity in the church, in contravention to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Episcopal Church, and of the teachings of Jesus Christ.

    In this minute clip, Fr. Holt says that he wouldn’t invite an unknown Black pastor to speak in his church. He had been given this privilege when visiting in primarily Black churches. “Who knows what he would say, right?”

     

    You may watch the entire video of 3 minutes. It includes where Fr. Holt said he was afraid to speak in front of signs saying “Trevon Martin, modern day lynching.”

    In this 40 second clip, Fr. Holt says that LBGTQIA+ persons should expect to change as he changed from being a college frat boy. This was in answering a question about leading a diocese of diverse opinions in regard to ordination and marriage of people in the LBGTQIA+ community.

     

    You may watch the entire 4:45 minute video.

    Black lives are sacred at Church of the Redeemer

    Church of the Redeemer

    Welcome to Church of the Redeemer: Worshiping God, living in community, and reaching out to the world. We are an Episcopal Church serving north King County and south Snohomish County, Washington. As you travel your road, go with friends walking the way of Jesus at Redeemer.

    Church of the Redeemer is at 6220 Northeast 181st Street in Kenmore, Washington. We are a short distance north of Bothell Way, near the Burke-Gilman Trail. The entrance looks like a gravel driveway. The campus is larger on the inside than it is on the outside. And we managed to hide a large building on the side of a hill that is not easily seen from the street.

    The Episcopal Church welcomes you.

  • Executive Council opening remarks, October 2021

    Executive Council opening remarks, October 2021

    The following are the opening remarks of the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church Michael Curry and the President of the House of Deputies Gay Clark Jennings at the Executive Council of The Episcopal Church. They are meeting virtually from October 25, 2021, through October 28.

    Presiding Bishop Michael Curry portrait

    Presiding Bishop Michael Curry’s opening remarks

    The following is a transcript of the opening remarks of Presiding Bishop Michael Curry. These remarks have been lightly edited for clarity.

    It’s just good to be back. Even in what Mark Goodman earlier reminded us, these are in-between times. This is in-between. Which for Christians whose Lord promised, “I’ll be back,” probably is not a surprise, but it is a surprise.

    Just to give context to some opening remarks, I thought I would refer back to a passage in the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. This is after the crucifixion and the resurrection, and moments before Jesus ascends or returned to the fullness of the Godhead before the Ascension. And Jesus is speaking to people who are going to have to live in in-between times, and who aren’t anxious for the in-between times to enter. And for us to know when it ends and something new begins.

    And so this may well be a text for our time, for this moment when not only our meetings are hybrid, but life is hybrid. So when they had come together, they asked Jesus, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or the seasons that the Father has fixed by His own authority, but this you will know. You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in Judea, in Samaria, to the ends of the earth.”

    It is not for you to know all the ins and outs of life. That’s just the way it is. Some things you can know, and some things you don’t. Like my grandma used to sing, we’ll understand it better by and by. But this much you can count on. You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and Judea, in Samaria, in first-century Palestine, and in the 21st century world of a global pandemic. Of a world struggling with itself profoundly, and maybe of a world where something is trying to be born. Who knows, but you’ll be my witnesses. And maybe that’s enough.

    I want to suggest that Jesus has given us some wisdom to be his witnesses, to witness to his way of life, his way of love. To witness to a way of, to borrow from Mally [Lloyd] again, this morning, I’m telling you, Ted Lasso is my hero. I love this dude. But to witness the things like kindness and forgiveness and giving and loving, that they matter. And that in the end, those are the things that do matter. You will be my witnesses. Whatever mistakes you make, church, whatever ways you err, however you fumble the ball, you will be my witnesses, and that’s enough.

    You are not God, you’re witnesses. You are not perfect, you’re witnesses. You don’t have all the answers, you’re witnesses. You will be my witnesses. Since our last meeting, things that none of us could have foreseen have happened. Our last two meetings before the pandemic may well have been prophetic, proleptic, anticipatory. In October of 2019, we went to Montgomery, Alabama, the [Equal Justice Initiative].

    And we were blessed and privileged to spend time with Bryan Stevenson there. And blessed in great agony and pain to face into lynching in this country, to face into part of our history, in spite of what the critics of critical racial theory would have you believe. To dare to look into our history. And I say our history, we’re all in it. I’m a descendant of slaves. Some are descendants of slave owners, but be that as it may, we’re all in this now. It’s our history. To face into that history, to learn from it, and hopefully to learn and then turn and work to build a new future. We did that. We started that. The group in this council who worked on that envisioned that as a continuing work of anti-racism, continuing work of truth-telling, continuing work to lead us eventually to the healing that leads the beloved community.

    And then in February, just a few weeks before we discovered we were in pandemic, we met in Salt Lake City, and there we heard a similar story. There it was Native Americans, Indigenous peoples, the First Nations of this land, forcibly removed, and in many cases slaughtered in a genocidal massacre against humanity. Again, trails of tears and weeping and moaning. And again, this is part of our history. And I say our history. Whether any of us were there or not, it is part of our history, and we faced it.

    And then a virus became known to us. And then suddenly there was suffering throughout the land, not just this land, around the globe. People got sick. Hospitals were overrun, healthcare folk and first responders and the folk who packed the groceries in our stores were overwhelmed. And people died alone and people were alone. And much of the world lived through a horrible pandemic of a virus, and it was a nightmare lived out. That still continues. These are in-between times. We need a witness.

    But as if the biologic wasn’t enough, the sociologic, the spiritual, may well have been equally as bad, if not worse. Demons of our past came out to haunt us again, and they were legion. In the face of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor—Ahmaud Arbery had been right before the pandemic—in their faces and in their lives, and you can go back to the Trayvon Martins and the Eric Garners, you can go back in time—all of a sudden those charged to protect and serve, many of them no longer protected or served—many, not all, please hear me. Many of them in a culture of violence and hatred, literally killed people before our eyes. This happened here.

    These are in-between times. We need a witness. And I could go on. I don’t mean to depress you. I just say January the 6th, I don’t need to say any more. I don’t mean to depress you. I could say something about the discovery, no, the recognition of Indigenous children who were taken from their homes forcefully over 100 years ago to boarding schools. Whatever the intentions, the reality was a kind of cultural genocide that was a perpetuation of the physical genocide that had been going on before. And some of the children died at those boarding schools and were buried.

    And some of us thought those Indigenous boarding schools were only in Canada. North America is North America, and the bodies are on this land as well. And we began to realize that a society of democratic values forgot human decency and kindness. This is part of our history, and I underscore our. I was rereading some writings of King back in June, and realized that one of his greatest moments of despair was the realization that the church that he loved as a Christian and as a pastor was often silently complicit. And in some cases, loudly and explicitly participant in ways of white supremacy, in ways of domination and putting down any human child of God, and daring sometimes to do it in the name of God. That was his greatest despair.

    And those who follow Jesus had forgotten who Jesus was and is, and what the Gospel is. But let me not leave you in despair. The good news is only good news when you face the bad news. Our Lutheran friends teach us, you’ve got to deal with law before you get to Gospel. And there’s some good news. That in the midst of this—while we are not perfect in this church—in the midst of this I have seen this church do what I never thought it would do or could do. Not everybody, I understand that, but I’ve seen goodness rise up, in spite of the fact that we were a little confused by what was going on around us.

    I’ve seen people try to figure out how do we care for each other when we can’t touch each other. I’ve seen people reach out and call their neighbor. At one point, I said, look, if you’re high tech, text. If you’re low tech, email. If you’re no tech, just pick up the phone and call, but stay in contact with each other. And the people in this church did that. I mean, they really have done that. I’ve seen it. All is not gloom and doom.

    But I’ve seen it in this church.

    Let me tell you something. I’m going to get in trouble, what I’m about to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. I was on TREC [Task Force for Reimagining the Episcopal Church], which recommended massive changes, which may or may not happen, but maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Things have to happen in their own time and season.

    If we had had a commission, another kind of TREC that would have said to the church, Episcopal Church, you must move your worship from in the buildings that you love and put it online, I guarantee you the same thing that happened to the TREC report, would happen to that report. But I’m here to tell you that I saw this church rise up and figure out—not quite sure how to do it—we are going to worship God come what may, and The Episcopal Church got online and did it. It wasn’t always pretty, but God bless us, we did it, and kept doing it. And then realized, wait a minute, have we stumbled into people who might never darken the doors of our church? Have we actually reached somebody … Let no child of God be left behind when we go back into those churches. We figured out and we’re doing it. God bless this church. Something good, something’s emerging.

    I’ve seen people in study groups around racism, that is Sacred Ground. I mean, massive numbers of Episcopalians studying. I’ve seen Episcopalians throughout this country joining with young people in the streets, calling on this nation to claim the high calling of justice, equality, dignity for every child of God.

    The first trip that I took was last May to go to Virginia seminary for their commencement. And the reason I went was to address the graduating class and to say thank you to them, because that was the class and they were the seminarians who were there at St. John’s church, Lafayette Square. They had been there passing out water and things to support, to be a pastoral presence for the protestors. And they were there the night, the then-president of the United States did what he did. And I just wanted on your behalf, on behalf of this church, to say thank you.

    And to say to them, don’t let the days that are ahead of you, the ministry that is before you, take out the zeal that you had that led you to Lafayette Square. Continue that ministry following in the footsteps of Jesus. Oh, my friends, something is trying to be born. I’m smart enough not to predict. I don’t know exactly what it is, but something is trying to be born.

    I shared something with some friends, and then later I’ve shared it around the church. All it is—please hear me—it’s not an official statement. It’s not a papal bull, though somebody says it’s PB bull. It’s not a papal bull, it’s not an official statement, but please hear me when I say, it’s coming out of this experience of a nightmare and of something trying to be born. I just want to read part of it to you.

    It’s more a dream, more a hope, maybe a prayer, maybe a poem still in the forming, for this church that has raised me, this church that taught me about Jesus and his way of love, that when others see us, they might see him. It says, come and see. Come and see. We are becoming—we’re not finished yet—but God help us we are becoming a new and re-formed church, Episcopal branch of the Jesus movement.

    Individuals, small gatherings and communities and congregations, whose way of life is striving to be the way of Jesus and his way of love. No longer centered on empire, no longer centered on establishment, no longer fixated on preserving institutions, no longer shoring up white supremacy or anything that hurts or harms any child of God or God’s creation. By God’s grace we are becoming a church that looks and acts, and maybe better yet, that loves like Jesus. A church that is his witness to his love and not to ourselves.

    When I was a new priest, actually I was still a deacon—I was the deacon in charge of St. Stephens in Winston-Salem. And this is 1978. I had never had an office before, and I was so excited to actually have an office and a typewriter. It was an IBM electric typewriter. Remember those? I was just so happy and proud of myself.

    Anyway, so I was sitting in the church office, and there was a hallway with some classrooms. And then there was another section where we had a daycare center with 3- and 4-year-olds, basically, preschool. The children, generally as a rule, in order to either go to the bathroom or to go out to the playground, had to come by my office. It was that small. I’d see them every time they passed by.

    So anyway, so I was sitting in the office—I hadn’t yet been introduced to the children; it was probably my first day, I suspect. And this little boy came by. He looked in the office, and I was sitting there. I said, “Hello.” And he said, “Hello.” And I was wondering, OK, where does the conversation go from here? He said, “Are you God?”

    Well, I had just taken GOE, the General Ordination Exams, and had passed successfully, so I had an answer readily available. I said, “No, I’m not God, but I work for him.” Which I thought was not a bad answer. I thought it was pretty good. And he seemed satisfied. So he went on, went to the bathroom and went back with the other kids. Well, another child came down and looked at me and asked the same question. I said, did my little evangelist go back and share the good news?

    I still didn’t make too much of it, until later the kids came out to go to the playground. And again, they had to walk past my office to get there. They came by the office and all these kids are going, “Hi, God. Good morning, God. Hello, God.” At that point, I really, you’ve never seen a Black person turn red, but I was red at that point, because I knew the teachers were thinking, what’s this guy been telling these kids? But then I started thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, I said, you know something? Well, maybe those kids ought to look at me and see the God that Jesus was teaching us about.

    I don’t mean that they ought to see us and actually think we’re God. Maybe they ought to look at the way I live my life, and see the love of God so vividly manifested in me. That when they see me, they actually see God. Maybe the world ought to look at this church and actually see, when they see us, people who are willing to face hard truths, willing to do the hard work, and willing to hang in there come what may. And when they see us, they don’t glorify us, but glorify our Father who is in heaven. Maybe when they look for Jesus and look for Christianity, someone will look at this wonderful Episcopal church and look at us and say, “That’s what a Christian looks like.”

    You won’t have all the answers. You won’t have it all figured out, but this much I know, you will receive power, and the Holy Ghost has come upon you, and we will be his witnesses in Jerusalem, in Judea, in Samaria, in the first century and in the 21st.

    God love you.

    And it sure is good to see you.

    Amen.

    —The Most Rev. Michael Curry

    The Rev. Gay Clark Jennings

    President of the House of Deputies Gay Clark Jennings opening remarks

    The following are the opening remarks of President of the House of Deputies Gay Clark Jennings.

    Good morning. It is wonderful to see you again. I pray that our time together this week will be energetic and productive and holy and safe. Please take good care while we are here and observe all of the risk mitigation measures that were outlined in our meeting materials. I know that we are all ready to be done with this pandemic, but unfortunately, it is not ready to be done with us.

    In fact, in the last few days, I have been reflecting on the ways in which the effects of the pandemic will be with us for a long time to come, particularly through the troubling disparities that it has exacerbated. In the United States, the wealth gap before COVID was already enormous. Now it is much worse, after months in which white collar workers stayed home, kept their jobs, and collected their stock market gains, while front line workers—many of whom are people of color—lost wages and jobs and, in far too many cases, lost their lives. And women, especially women of color, suffered disproportionate job loss and caregiving burdens during COVID.

    In short, if you started the pandemic with a lot of privilege, there’s a good chance that you have more of it now. And if you didn’t, things might well be worse for you and those you love than they were in March of 2020.

    A couple of weeks ago, we learned that COVID hasn’t just widened disparities among individuals. It has also widened the gap that separates our congregations. Thanks to the good work of the House of Deputies State of the Church Committee, which crafted new narrative questions for the 2020 parochial report; and to Elena G. van Stee, a doctoral student at the University of Pennsylvania who analyzed the data; and to the General Convention Office, which coordinated the work, we now have extensive qualitative data about how our congregations have weathered the pandemic.

    The report is called “The Church Is Not a Building: Observations and Insights from Narrative Responses to the 2020 Parochial Report.” You might not have heard about this new element of the parochial report results, and I commend it to you. I want to read a few sentences from it now in the hope that it will pique your interest and help guide our work this week:

    • Considered as a whole, the narrative responses paint a portrait of a year characterized by loss and grief as well as innovation and growth. Churches experienced unprecedented challenges and opportunities that varied greatly across the denomination and cannot be reduced to a simple narrative of denominational growth or decline. On the one hand, the pandemic exacerbated and exposed fault lines of inequality, particularly with regards to human and financial resources. On the other hand, the circumstances of the pandemic inspired innovative new initiatives, fostered intra- and inter-personal growth, and provided new opportunities for the church to be the hands and feet of Christ in the world. Recognizing the truth in both narratives will be essential for understanding the complexity of the The Episcopal Church’s past, critically evaluating the present, and pursuing new ways of loving God and neighbor in the future.

    I find this report especially helpful right now, as we are all struggling to make sense of what we have experienced in the last 19 months. If you are a person with privilege, or if you come from a congregation with privilege, you might be seeing the entire church through the lens of your pandemic experience. You might be thinking—the economy is strong, people have lots of disposable cash, the outlook for our congregation and diocese is good, and so that must be true of the entire Episcopal Church. You might not be seeing the congregations that closed during the pandemic, the lay leaders who are struggling to hold things together in congregations without clergy or paid staff, the dioceses whose revenue forecasts are grim. But at the same time, it might be hard for all of us to recognize the ways in which the pandemic did inspire new opportunities and foster growth and connection. And so I hope this report will help us understand better the needs of all of the people and all of the congregations we are here to serve.

    As we try to understand where God is calling The Episcopal Church in this late pandemic world, I am especially grateful for the guidance of previous General Convention resolutions that can guide us through these difficult times. In particular, I want to highlight for you two issues—one on which the church is speaking now, and one on which I hope we will find our voice:

    • In August, the Presiding Bishop and I became two of the lead signers on a faith leaders amicus brief submitted to the Supreme Court of the United States in the matter of the New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen. This case, which is scheduled for oral arguments on November 3, will determine whether New York State’s law setting sensible restrictions on the concealed carry of firearms in public is constitutional. It could also have significant implications for a broad range of common-sense gun laws. We were proud to be joined by more than 20 participants in the Bishops United Against Gun Violence Network and many Episcopal clergy from across the church.The amicus brief cites General Convention resolutions from both 1976 and 2015 and urges the court to consider the burdens on religious institutions that would be imposed by the unrestricted ability to carry concealed weapons in public, including the heightened risk of gun violence in houses of worship. This is a critical issue for our congregations, but even more so for faith communities that are too often the target of hate crimes. I am proud that General Convention has put us on record in favor of sensible gun restrictions and that we are able to make a witness in this critical case.
    • The second issue is one that many of you will have heard about in the last few days. According to news reports, the House of Bishops of the Anglican Church in Ghana has endorsed a draconian anti-LGBTQ law now awaiting a vote in the Ghanaian parliament. This is upsetting and particularly regrettable in light of the 2005 commitment of the primates of the Anglican Communion to stand against the “victimisation or diminishmentof LGBTQI people.For our part, in 2015, General Convention passed Resolution A051, which commits us to stand with our LGBTQI Anglican siblings in Africa, and that our churchwide offices, including the Office of the Presiding Bishop, “be directed to work in partnership with African Anglicans who publicly oppose laws that criminalize homosexuality and incite violence against Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Intersex people.”

    I expect that it has not yet been possible to understand exactly what has transpired in the church in Ghana, and what kind of risk our LGBTQI friends and allies there are now facing, but we must commit ourselves to standing with them in whatever ways we can. I hope that it will be possible for us to discuss this matter at this meeting with the goal of hearing a full report and taking action in keeping with Resolution 2015-A051 at our January meeting. Mission Beyond, I believe that this would be in your portfolio.

    Yesterday, as you know, the gospel reading appointed for the day was the story of Jesus restoring sight to Bartimaeus. When Jesus and his disciples were leaving Jericho, Mark tells us, Bartimaeus called out to Jesus from the side of the road, begging him for mercy. And when Jesus called him over and asked what Bartimaeus wanted him to do, Bartimaeus said, “Teacher, let me see again.”

    As we begin this meeting—together, at last—let that also be our prayer. Let us ask Jesus to let us see again so that we might better understand the needs of the people God calls us to serve and the church we have been elected to lead.

    —The Rev. Gay Clark Jennings

    Public Affairs Office of The Episcopal Church

    Executive Council of the Episcopal Church

    The Executive Council of the Episcopal Church is the national body that administers the program and policies adopted by the General Convention. It was called the National Council from 1919-1964.

    It is currently composed of the following:

    • Twenty members elected by General Convention
    • Eighteen members elected by the Provincial Synods

    The following are ex officio members:

    • The presiding bishop
    • The president of the House of Deputies
    • The vice president, secretary, and treasurer of the Executive Council

    Members are elected to six-year terms with half the membership elected each triennium. The body must have specified numbers of bishops, presbyters, and lay persons. The council meets at least three times each year.

    Church of the Redeemer

    Church of the Redeemer: Worshiping God, living in community, and reaching out to the world around us. We are an Episcopal Church serving north King County and south Snohomish County, Washington. As you travel your road, go with friends walking the way of Jesus at Redeemer.

    Church of the Redeemer is at 6220 Northeast 181st Street in Kenmore, Washington. We are a short distance north of Bothell Way, near the Burke-Gilman Trail. The entrance looks like a gravel driveway. The campus is larger on the inside than it is on the outside. And we managed to hide a large building on the side of a hill that is not easily seen from the street.

    The Episcopal Church welcomes you.

  • ‘My Name Is Pauli Murray’ brings trailblazing Episcopal saint’s story to a wider audience

    ‘My Name Is Pauli Murray’ brings trailblazing Episcopal saint’s story to a wider audience

    [Episcopal News Service] In the new documentary “My Name Is Pauli Murray,” filmmakers Betsy West and Julie Cohen paint a picture of an unsung trailblazer who remains relatively unknown despite her lasting influence on American society. Episcopalians know her as the first African American woman to be ordained a priest and as a pioneer in the struggles for racial and gender equality. But many may not know about other important aspects of her life, such as her struggle to come to terms with her gender identity in an era long before transgender people were accepted in mainstream society.

    When West and Cohen came across Murray’s story while working on their previous film (“RBG,” the Ruth Bader Ginsburg biopic), they wondered why such a pivotal figure wasn’t a household name.

    “‘Why didn’t we know this person?’ was the first question everybody asked,” West told Episcopal News Service, “and could we do something about it?”

    Murray is celebrated on July 1 in The Episcopal Church’s “Holy Women, Holy Men” calendar of saints, and an increasing number Episcopal leaders – especially Black and LGBTQ+ people – cite her as an influence. Trinity Church Wall Street and the Diocese of North Carolina are supporting partners of the Pauli Murray Center for History and Social Justice at Murray’s childhood home in Durham, North Carolina.

    The result, “My Name Is Pauli Murray,” premiered online in January 2021 at the Sundance Film Festival and is now playing in select theaters. Washington National Cathedral will screen the documentary for an in-person audience on September 30. It will stream on Amazon Prime beginning October 1. It will also be shown online the same day through the Church of the Heavenly Rest in New York, followed by a discussion with West and Presiding Bishop Michael Curry. The film, which incorporates excerpts from Murray’s diaries and memoirs, shows how she laid the groundwork for future achievements for racial and gender equality.

    Murray was undaunted by the fact that she was often the first and/or only Black woman in the positions she held. Fifteen years before Rosa Parks was arrested for refusing to move out of a whites-only section on a bus, Murray and a friend did the same in Virginia, though their case did not gain momentum the way Parks’ did. In her legal career, she was among the first to argue the unconstitutionality of “separate but equal” laws, an argument cited 10 years later in Brown v. Board of Education by Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, who called her book on segregation laws “the bible of the civil rights movement.” Ginsburg used Murray’s arguments in a brief she wrote – listing her as a co-author – while arguing Reed v. Reed, the 1971 Supreme Court case that banned gender discrimination based on the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause.

    Part of what makes Murray significant today was her commitment to intersectionality: the idea that social justice movements for different groups should support each other rather than work alone. As a Black woman experiencing discrimination based on both her race and her gender – a situation she described as “Jane Crow” – Murray supported the civil rights and feminist movements. But intersectionality was not as common then as it is today, and Murray’s penchant for crossing boundaries is one reason she didn’t achieve wider renown, West said.

    “The civil rights movement was not as open to acknowledging the contributions of women as it should have been, and the women’s movement was pretty dense at times about recognizing the needs and the contributions of African American women,” West told ENS. “The concept of Jane Crow really is intersectionalism. It’s a brilliant way to express the double bind that African American women find themselves in, and it was certainly true for Pauli.”

    Another factor was Murray’s sexuality and gender identity. In her diaries, Murray described having relationships with women but feeling that she was not a lesbian but a man living in a female body. This experience would today be classified as gender dysphoria and might have led Murray to live as a transgender man or a nonbinary person, the film suggests. The film also considers what pronouns should be used to describe Murray, who used she/her pronouns to describe herself, though some today speculate that Murray would have preferred they/them or he/him. In any case, Murray did not have those options in the mid-20th century.

    “The difficulty of living a somewhat secret life – the problem of feeling so strongly of having a male identity in what everybody says is a female body and not being able to express that – plus having what would be considered lesbian relationships at a time when that was not accepted as well – may have caused Pauli to be a little bit less up front in taking leadership roles,” West speculates. “It didn’t stop Pauli, certainly, from speaking out, having contact with lots of very powerful, important people, but Pauli didn’t stick around to take the credit for a lot of the ideas.”

    The Episcopal Church is one place, West said, where Murray received due recognition.

    “A lot of people say, ‘Why didn’t I know about Pauli Murray?’ There are a lot of Episcopalians who know about Pauli Murray,” West told ENS. “The church has been one place that has lifted up Pauli’s name.”

    —Egan Millard is an assistant editor and reporter for Episcopal News Service.
    He can be reached at emillard@episcopalchurch.org.

    Source of this article.

    The poster for “My Name Is Pauli Murray.”

    Church of the Redeemer

    Welcome to Church of the Redeemer: Worshiping God, living in community, and reaching out to the world. We are an Episcopal Church serving north King County and south Snohomish County, Washington. As you travel your road, go with friends walking the way of Jesus at Redeemer.

    Church of the Redeemer is at 6220 Northeast 181st Street in Kenmore, Washington. We are a short distance north of Bothell Way, near the Burke-Gilman Trail. The entrance looks like a gravel driveway. The campus is larger on the inside than it is on the outside. And we managed to hide a large building on the side of a hill that is not easily seen from the street.

    The Episcopal Church welcomes you.

     

  • Who we are

    Who we are

    The article appeared on my newsfeed on Saturday, as I was scrolling through Facebook. “Debates about LGBTQ acceptance roil Seattle-area nonprofits, churches.” The Seattle Times headline caught my eye. I started to read it, but only made it so far before I had to stop. “But in Christian circles at least,” it read “the risks [of being LGBTQ] are enormous, with jobs, funding and congregation membership in the balance.” Ten minutes later I was three hundred words in to a rebuttal letter reminding the Times that Episcopalians are indeed Christians, and decrying the article in general as lazy writing, when I paused. For all my frustration, all my angst, and the truth that the article was indeed pretty poorly researched and written without a real depth of understanding of the issue—all points that a colleague had already deftly articulated to the Times, a small voice kept asking, why doesn’t the author know about the Episcopal experience? It’s because of us.

    “Don’t worry,” we want to say, “we aren’t those sort of Christians.” This runs dangerously close, though, to saying “not all Christians,” just as some are quick to say “Not all white people…” “Not all rich people…” If the best we can do in talking about the marvelous power and presence of God in our lives is to say, “we don’t agree with those people,” then we should not be surprised that articles like the one in the Times get published. We cannot expect to define ourselves in opposition and be taken seriously.

    We must define ourselves by what we do believe. We believe in a God who is known in love. We believe in a God who sent Jesus to witness to that love and to become a sign of God’s faithful love for all people. We believe in God who abides with the world, who enervates all living things to lead the whole of creation into love that flows from the heart of God. We will not speak of God perfectly, but that’s not what is asked of us. It is not what we promised in baptism to do. Each of us must speak about what we believe in our lives, the good news of God in Christ that give us hope, and instructs us to love as God loves. It’s either that, or let someone else tell our story, poorly.

    —Fr. Jed Fox, Rector
    rector@redeemer-kenmore.org

    Fr. Jed Fox with a cup of coffee.

    Church of the Redeemer

    Welcome to Church of the Redeemer: Worshiping God, living in community, and reaching out to the world. We are an Episcopal Church serving north King County and south Snohomish County, Washington. As you travel your road, go with friends walking the way of Jesus at Redeemer.

    Church of the Redeemer is at 6220 Northeast 181st Street in Kenmore, Washington. The campus is a short distance north of Bothell Way, near the Burke-Gilman Trail. The entrance looks like a gravel driveway. The campus is larger on the inside than it is on the outside. And we managed to hide a large building on the side of a hill that is not easily seen from the street.

    The Episcopal Church welcomes you.

Participants in the pageant on Sunday, January 4, 2025, should be present by 9:30 am. 

2nd Sunday after the Epiphany (Year A), January 18, 2026. One service only at 9:30 am. Visitation by the Rt. Rev. Philip LaBelle, Bishop of Olympia.

Episcopal Church of the Redeemer
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