A C'ville Winter

Photos from C'ville in the Winter.  Looking towards University Avenue and the Corner, Medical Center in the Background. 

Well the weather outside was frightful

Well, it was.  Early Wednesday afternoon, the snow started coming down in what seemed like scheduled intervals, then steadily picked up into the mid-late afternoon.  Travel conditions got a bit treacherous, leaving Canterbury to figure out what we were going to do for that evening since our bible-study leader couldn't make it.  Luckily, Greg made it over and cooked us all a delicious batch of Gumbo (meat and veggie friendly options)!  After a bit of brainstorming, we decided to forgo studying the Bible and instead watch an hilarious Monty Python film: Life of Brian.

I'd never seen it, but HIGHLY recommend it to everyone.  It's a parody/satire on the life of Jesus and was apparently banned in many English cities and towns for years because it was deemed blasphemous.  You can find the IMDB summary-info here.  Check it out!  It made for the perfect snowy evening over at Canterbury House :).  Hopefully this next week won't bring snow again and we'll be able to get back into the swing of things; although, it was a lovely evening of fellowship, which everyone needs from time to time.  Nice change of pace from the usually fast-paced lives we live.  At least for me, that's one benefit of snow storms.  It's the one form of weather that, unless it's out of control, allows us to just slow down and actually live in the present, rather than always trying to outrun time.

And I almost forgot...

A view of the Sunrise over Charlottesville from my room in Canterbury House, first day of classes, 2011

Baack in Action

Canterbury is officially back in action for the Spring 2011 term.  Last week, we gathered together to share a Eucharist led by our chaplain, Nik.  Really wonderful little service and great food that followed.

The leaders also met this past Sunday (01/23) to discuss plans for the semester.  Updates forthcoming on the Google Calendar!

Happy start of term everyone!!!!!!

For those of you who haven't been with us before, our fellowship meets Wednesday from 5.30pm until, weekly at 120 Chancellor Street, just one block up from Starbucks on the Corner and directly behind Bank of America.  We'd LOVE LOVE LOVE to see you all there.  This week we gather for a bible study and delicious food made by Greg.

Stay warm everyone :).

Diocesan Funding for Campus Ministry-Diocese of Virginia

After reading Rector Jim's blog post this morning concerning the bolstering of diocesan support for campus ministry, I thought I would join in the conversation.  Many of you may know that I am a student here at the University of Virginia, but you may not know that I'm going into my fourth year.  Something more - the Canterbury Episcopal Fellowship at U.Va., supported by St. Paul's Memorial Church, has been an integral part, not only of my university experience, but also of my education.

Four years ago, I came to Charlottesville, never having seen the campus or the city to begin my undergraduate career.  A student advisor in my first year residence house encouraged me to visit the Student Activities Fair and find something to get involved with that would suit my interests.  People always told me that college was the time for re-inventing yourself; for figuring things out; for being who, what, or whatever you wanted to be, without the stigmas surrounding your identity in high-school: so I wasn't quite sure that I wanted to continue my identity as "Sean: the kid who's heavily involved with church stuff."  Like most adolescents my age, I was experiencing the world in an entirely new way.  And that meant thinking for  myself, which, to use the words of comedian Lewis Black - "I would love to have faith that the world was created in seven days, but I have thoughts; and thoughts can really f%#! up the whole faith thing.  Just ask any Catholic priest."

So, upon arriving in Charlottesville and spending a week in the sweltering August heat at camp for the Cavalier Marching Band, I had thoughts and they (you guessed it) did mess up the whole faith thing.  And, since only one other person from my small, rural high school attended the University, I was blessed with complete freedom to re-invent myself, to be anything I wanted to be.  I even briefly considered being a golden-lion tamarin, just because I could.  Then, at the activities fair, I stumbled across the Canterbury table where the Episcopal Shield welcomed me.  I thought, sure, why not give it a chance.  After all, they did give me water and home-baked goods, not the big box-store treats that have been so over processed, they endanger the individual identity.  That following Wednesday, I walked across the Grounds towards the only landmark familiar to me.  The Corner.  And there it was, Chancellor Street.  Home to sororities, St. Paul's, and the Canterbury House.

At our first meeting, we celebrated an ancient Eucharist out-doors, in the backyard of Canterbury House.  For some reason, I thought that was very unique and interesting and so unlike anything I had experienced back home in the Diocese of Southern Virginia.  Something kept me coming back.  I'm not quite sure if it was the people or the fact that there was a group of religious people who didn't ask me to check my brain at the door; and, furthermore, a group who didn't mind the fact that I had questions, doubts, and concerns about my faith.  That was it!  They encouraged me to think!  For someone who grew up in one of the most conservative dioceses in America and who came from such a small town that I was forced to attend youth events with the fundamentalist churches, to be able to freely think about and question my beliefs was a novel concept.

During the latter years of middle-school and all throughout high school, my rector encouraged me to attend diocesan youth events and worked very hard to fund these trips (sometimes out of his own pocket).  At the time, there was one event that almost every youth in our diocese attended.  Happening, a Christian Experience.  It was a weekend long retreat held at the diocesan conference center, Camp Chanco on the James.  The event changed my life, opening my eyes to the idea of God as Love: which, to me, seemed more comforting than a paternal figure-head existing somewhere in another dimension that people only reached after death.  Rather than viewing my religion as an exercise to ensure my admittance into heaven, this event allowed me to see God as a feeling, an emotion that exists in our daily lives.  Not as an end-goal.

Shortly after graduation, I learned that the diocese, which had for years underfunded their youth programs, had decided to put this event on hiatus until they could get their finances back in order.  That was 2007.  It's now 2011 and youth events such as Happening (and it's middle school equivalent, New Beginnings) are still inactive.  A very good friend of mine and former EYC (Episcopal Youth Community) President for DioSoVa, who worked tirelessly to ensure that exactly what happened wouldn't happen, moved to New York to study screen-play writing at the Pratt Institute will have nothing to do with any of these programs, mostly because of the Diocese's disregard for the importance of the youth.  I can very vividly remember her standing up at Annual Council my senior year of high school and very pointedly telling the clergy and bureaucrats that they were, essentially, signing their own death certificates if they did not take more seriously the importance of youth ministry.  Where, 4 years ago, alumni of the Happening retreat would return bi-annually to the closing ceremonies of each retreat to welcome a new class of Happeners into Love, almost none of us return now, because the event has ceased to be.

I would ask the Annual Council to seriously consider expanding their funding for campus ministries, and youth ministries, at large.  We have something to offer the community.  Arguing that we're young and naive, thus rendering our opinions banal only serves to further alienate an entire generation from the Church.

Halloween Spectaculathon!

Last week Canterbury had a visit from parishioner and professor, Ben Ray, of the religious studies department.  He talked to us about a passion of his, the Salem Witch Trials, and shed some crucial light on the event that many people don't know - like how the Crucible isn't an accurate account of the trials and how they were more or less politically motivated after a conflict between the village minister and the townspeople.

You can find all sorts of fascinating information, all in once place, on this website.

Transcript of Speech From ACCEPT Vigil

Hey all!  I've been meaning to post this to the Canterblog for a while now, but finally have gotten around to making edits.  As most of you know, Canterbury attended the ACCEPT Vigil a couple of weeks ago, which was an event organized in response to the deaths of LGBTQ youth across our country for being outed as gay.  I was asked to speak at the event and so I'd like to provide you with a transcript of that speech.

Over the past week I have watched online videos from the “It Gets Better Project” in an attempt to find some sort of answer to the tragedies we’ve heard about in the news.  I’ve heard uplifting words from celebrities, such as Tim Gunn, as well as heart wrenching ones from Ellen Degeneres.  A complete stranger even e-mailed me his video when he heard of the attack I suffered in the middle of September.  But my words aren’t meant to be about me or what I’ve been through.  Suffice it to say, however, that in light of my own victimization and learning of the deaths of these young LGBT teens, I have lost my faith in humanity and am struggling to regain it.  I don’t care who you are or what you believe, nor does it matter what your or my own personal convictions are.  There is nothing in this world, there is nothing in this life, more precious and sacred than a human life.  I won’t lie to you, because I can’t lie to you.  I am angry, furious, and livid that our society would allow such terrible things to happen.  I simply cannot fathom the crimes that have been committed against such wonderful, promising, gifted, and innocent persons.

            As a poet and as someone who studies poetry, there is nothing more beautiful in the world to me than the testimony, than the sound of an other’s voice telling their story; and because of intolerance, because of someone else’s ignorance, we will never hear the voices of these elegant and graceful souls.  Their voices have been silenced unjustly.  This silencing sickens me to my very core.  We are here tonight to give these youths the justice they deserve. 

What happened is not removed from us by any degree, however minute.  We, as members of this society, of this country, bear full responsibility for their unfortunate deaths. We must work to rectify this, because they truly are crimes against humanity, for which we must atone and ensure never happen again.

I see tonight as a gathering of people who wish to give voices to those who have had theirs prematurely taken away from them.  Tonight is about – to borrow the words of a personal idol, American poet Walt Whitman – we came here this evening to “…sound [our] barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” 

The following are the voices of those named below, whose lives were senselessly ended merely because they dared to be true to their selves, because they were bold enough to embrace their identities.

            This is the voice of Tyler Clementi: [silence]

            This is the voice of Asher Brown: [silence]

            This is the voice of Seth Walsh: [silence]

            This is the voice of Billy Lucas: [silence]

            This is the voice of Zach Harrington: [silence]

            This is the voice of Aiyisha Hassan: [silence]

And these are the voices of those for whom we have no names, but whose voices have nevertheless been stilled: [silence]. 

They will never know the joy of having their name called out at a commencement ceremony, nor know love’s first kiss, nor the pleasure of another autumn.  They will never know any of the daily joys of which you and I take pleasure, which we take for granted.

You may be wondering why I turned to Whitman’s words and why I will shortly turn to another poet’s words.  Well, I do so because someone once told me: “When language fails you, turn to poetry;”and language has failed me, insofar as its ability to express the deep distress I feel for these youths and their families.  So I quote from another American poet, Allen Ginsberg: “America when will we end the human war?.../…America when will you be angelic?.../…America the plum blossoms are falling.”                                                                  

Ask yourselves those very questions as I leave you with one final image and a poem.  America, when will we end the human war?  Before I leave you with this poem by Adam Zagajewski, I would like you to envision a monument, erected at Dachau, Germany.  Inscribed on stone in five languages are the words “Never Again.”  Let those two words be our promise to these young people and let us resolve to ourselves:  Nie Mehr!

Try To Praise The Mutilated World

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Adam Zagajewski

Trans from the Polish by Clare Cavanaugh

The Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, Bishop of New Hampshire says "It Gets Better"

Here is a wonderful video made by the Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, openly gay Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire in response to the unwarranted suicides of many LGBTQI teens over the past months.

Please watch it and let his words lead you into thought about your role as a person in our society.