Showing posts with label Bishop Knisely. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bishop Knisely. Show all posts

Friday, January 24

Bishop Knisely: Providence is not the least biblically minded city in the United States

[1.24.2014] A Statement from The Right Reverend Nicholas Knisely, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Rhode Island, in response to this week's TIME Magazine article "the Most God-less Cities in America" which ranks Providence at #1

A recent survey by the American Bible Society has determined that, according to their criteria, Providence and New Bedford are the least biblically minded cities in the United States. I disagree strongly with the criteria they used to make that assessment. Being a biblically minded person isn't a matter of memorization, or of reading the Bible on your own once a week. A biblically minded person is someone who deeply understands and lives the values of the Gospel, not someone who merely reads it often.

The gospel calls us to love others, be kind, be generous, speak out for the poor and excluded, and to welcome the stranger in our midst. I have seen that behavior daily in Rhode Island since I was consecrated Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Rhode Island last year.

That said, I'm certainly in favor of people engaging in a regular way with Holy Scripture. Another recent study pointed out that while Episcopalians are not as likely to read their Bibles individually during the week, they are the people who read the Bible the most, together in Sunday and daily worship. Our lectionary takes us through the entire Bible together every three years. We read the Bible, we just read it differently. That's true of all the liturgical churches, which are the largest expression of Christianity here in Rhode Island.

+Bishop Knisely

[1.29.14] Update: Check out Time Magazine's new article "Actually, These are the Most Godless Cities in America" in response to Bishop Knisely's statement and the ensuing debate.

Thursday, January 23

Bishop Knisely's "Lent is not Rocket Science" Book of Meditations on Science & Religion Now for Sale


40 Days of Lent
W. Nicholas Knisely

The season of Lent prompts us to ask questions, big and small, about the nature of our being, and about our role in the world. Astronomer, physicist and Episcopal Bishop W. Nicholas Knisely explores the intersection of faith and science, creation and the cosmos in Lent is Not Rocket Science: An Exploration of God, Creation and the Cosmosjointly published by Forward Movement and Morehouse.

Bishop Knisely reflects on every level of creation from the largest (cosmos) to the smallest (quantum) in these daily Lenten meditations. He explains these significant and sometimes complex scientific concepts in a clear, succinct way through the lens of faith.

“Paying attention to the world around us—to the intricate structures of nature, to the mind-bending reality of the cosmic and microscopic realms—will invite us to recognize that the God we worship, and with whom we have an ongoing relationship, is present in the raging storm, the fiery whirlwind of the surface of a star, and the deep silence of intergalactic space,” Knisely explains.

Each day's devotion begins with a meditative scripture passage, followed by a reflection. Questions at the end of each reflection invite you to think even more deeply as you seek God in every molecule, atom, and quantum particle of Creation.With his devotions as a guide this Lent, you'll come to the conclusion that you don't have to be a rocket scientist to see God's hand in all of creation, from the unimaginable expanse of galaxies to the inexplicable nature of atoms, in the fire that turns palm fronds into ashes and in the rainbows formed on oil-slicked puddles.

To order Lent Is Not Rocket Science: An Exploration of God, Creation and the Cosmosvisit www.forwardmovement.org. For a review copy or to receive a digital copy of Lent is Not Rocket Science to reprint up to three meditations, please contact Miriam McKenney.

The Rt. Rev. W. Nicholas Knisely was consecrated in 2012 as the 13th Bishop of the Diocese of Rhode Island. Prior to his election as bishop, he served as a priest in Delaware, Western and Eastern Pennsylvania and as dean of Trinity Cathedral in Phoenix, Arizona. Bishop Knisely earned an undergraduate degree in physics and astronomy and did graduate work in cosmology and solid state physics before entering seminary. He taught physics and astronomy for seven years at Lehigh University and is part of the Episcopal Network for Science, Technology & Faith.

Forward Movement works to nurture discipleship and encourage evangelism by providing print and digital resources to all who wish to deepen their spiritual engagement. Based in Cincinnati, OH since its inception in 1935, Forward Movement is widely known for Forward Day by Day. Forward Movement is a ministry of The Episcopal Church.



Thursday, November 7

Watch Bishop Knisely's 2013 Convention Address

Missed our 2013 Diocesan Convention? Watch the Bishop's Address to catch up on what has happened in our diocese in the last year, and hear where we are headed in the next. This slideshow movie is made from the Keynote presentation Bishop Knisely gave for this year's Bishop's Address.

You can watch the whole movie for the full effect of the presentation,  or dial in to an update on a particular topic at these timestamps:

  • Bishop's vision for the Diocese 1:03 
  • Presentation of our new diocesan logo 8:26 
  • The Cathedral of St. John 11:00 
  • Same sex blessings 14:19 
  • Changes to the Organization of the Bishop's Office 16:32 
  • Episcopal Conference Center 18:32 
  • San Jorge's requests Mission status 20:05 
  • St. John's on the Point restarts as a Mission 21:19 
  • Young Adult Ministry 22:14 
  • Ministry to those with Autism 23:28 
  • Expanding Hispanic Ministry 24:46 
  • Presentation of the 2013 Anchor of Hope Award 25:53

Friday, September 20

On the Deacons Blog: An interview with Bishop Knisely


It has been a year since Rhode Island elected its current bishop, Nicholas Knisely...Deacon Barbara Mays Stock caught up with him recently, to ask him some questions regarding his thoughts on the diaconate...

BMS: Bishop Knisely, can you tell me a little bit about your experience with the Diaconate in your years as a priest?

Bishop Knisely: I've been particularly blessed to work with 6 extraordinary deacons during the time I served as a parochial priest. In fact, every parish I served as the Rector eventually either had a deacon assigned, or lifted up someone to that ministry...

Read the full interview on the EpiscopalRI Deacons blog

Tuesday, May 21

Bishop Knisely Calls for Prayer for Oklahoma Tornado Victims

Dear Ones,

All of our hearts are breaking at the news we are hearing from Oklahoma and the midwest after Monday's outbreak of Tornadoes and severe weather. Yet even in the midst of the ruin and destruction we see the lights of acts of courage and kindness; teachers using their bodies to protect their students, neighbors rushing out into the storm to rescue others, first responders leaving behind their own tragic losses to save the lives of others. In the midst of the fury of the storm, let us pray that God will grant us grace to keep our hearts fixed on the light so that by its inspiration and reflection we can be beacons of hope to many who need us now.

I ask your prayers for all in the region who are suffering, who have lost homes or businesses, whose hearts are broken by the loss of a loved one. I ask you to consider how we can work together to help restore what we can and comfort those whose losses we can not. Below is an email from the canon to the Ordinary of the Diocese of Oklahoma with some details, should your parish decide to aid in the recovery, or you can do so through Episcopal Relief and Development

+Nicholas
The Rt. Rev. W. Nicholas Knisely, DD. S.O.Sc.
Bishop of Rhode Island

Crux Mihi Ancora
~~~~

From: José McLoughlin
Sent: Tuesday, May 21, 2013 10:37 AM
To: Transition Ministers-Diocesan
Subject: Tornados in OklahomaDear Colleagues,

Thank you so much to all of you who have contacted me and offered prayers and assistance.

As you have seen, the devastation is immense. We are in the process of assessing the situation with our clergy and congregations in order to most effectively respond. We have parishioners, church employees and their families that have been impacted  Clergy are continuing to account for parishioners and relay information to us as events develop.

Rescue efforts continue and are expected to carry on for the days ahead. We have been asked to not encourage people to show up at the scene, but rather let emergency personnel do the work they need to do. We have also been asked not to collect clothing or household items. Right now, financial contributions are the best and most effective option. This will allow us to get funds to those who need temporary lodging, groceries, food, etc.

Contributions can be sent to us at:

The Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma
924 N. Robinson
OKC, OK 73102

Notation on the checks should state “Tornado relief.”

We are coordinating with ERD and will continue to communicate any additional needs as the situation develops.

Thank you again for your email and prayers.

Blessings,
The Rev. Canon José A. McLoughlin
Canon to the Ordinary & Chief-of-Staff
Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma
924 N. Robinson
Oklahoma City, OK 73102


Wednesday, May 1

Last Weekend: Climate Revival in Copley Square with the Presiding Bishop

Photo: Bishop Knisely and the Presiding Bishop
By Heidi Shott, Diocese of ME
Boston's Copley Square is back open to the public, post-marathon bombings, and on Saturday April 27th Bishop Knisely and Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori gathered with many local & national religious leaders to liven the spirit of the place up, creating a new positive stir with an ecumenical "Climate Revival".

The Climate Revival began at Old South Church (UCC) on Boylston street where there was worship, prayer, and preaching. Afterwards the whole party processed up the street through the busy sidewalks of Copley Square, to Trinity Church for more worship, prayers and a sermon by Presiding Bishop Katharine (see sermon below).

At Trinity Church, the day's events culminated in a round table where religious leaders signed a climate change statement titled “Lazarus, come out: A shared statement of hope in the face of climate change." For more pictures from the day visit the Diocese of Maine's flickr album.

Climate Revival Sermon 

by The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori
Presiding Bishop and Primate, The Episcopal Church

Alleluia! We’re here today to breathe new life into a dying body – the body of God’s creation.  It’s going to take the breath we have in us, and the breath of many, many others.  Breathe in the breath of God, of life, and give it back – now, breathe!  We’re going to need all the confidence we have that the act of breathing in and breathing out will continue – and we’re going to have to use as much hot air and vehemence as we can muster.  Are you ready?

Jesus’ raising of Lazarus begins with several kinds of breathing – the calls for Jesus’ attention, then the sighs and sobs of the grieving, and hot words of reprimand:  ‘if you’d only been here and paid attention…’!  And then many more words trying to understand, more tears, and the charge to take away the stone.

The stone blocks the tomb, it keeps the dead dead and separate from the living.  Never the twain shall meet, if the stone is doing its death-defying job.  It’s not the stone’s fault, but it’s in the wrong place if we want to raise the dead.  And there are far too many stones in the way.

There are stones in our shoes that cripple those who would run to heal.  There is stone in the hearts of those who won’t hear the cries of fellow creatures, or see the growing chaos of a warming earth, or learn that stony hearts are killing the whole living system.  There are little stones in our tear ducts that keep us from weeping, and specks in our eyes, and misplaced otoliths in our ears that block our hearing.  Take away all the stones, O Lord, and give us hearts of flesh and organs of compassion, for your creation is suffering.

Let’s give thanks that the stones are beginning to be removed.  That is still a work for divine breath – as Jesus acknowledges at the tomb, “thank you, God, for listening!”  We know that God is always listening and breathing a response over the chaos around us.  Resurrection and creative innovation are continually engaging the stuff of earth, bringing forth new life in spite of the tombs within us and around us.  This city knows something about that, as so many hearts opened to strangers in recent days – may we all learn to listen and see and hope for healing and new liveliness in human communities and other parts of God’s creation.  God is always delivering the dead from the tomb.

The body in the tomb is still called Lazarus.  It means “God has helped.”  God has always helped.  We grieve the illness of the body of God’s creation, yet if we look at the long history of this body, we can see healing of the body in ages past, long before human beings were more than a dim glimmer in the DNA of creatures without backbones.  The great extinction events caused by asteroids, shifts in planetary oxygen levels, or vast quantities of atmospheric dust give evidence of enormous and wide-ranging death, yet each time God’s creativity eventually brought forth new life.  It was not immediate or sudden, but in God’s good time, the earth again knew riotous and flourishing diversity.  The difference today is that we’re causing massive death through our own greed.

Creative breath has been displaced by a giant sucking sound, the vacuuming maw of our own emptiness.  We seek to feed that desperate, gasping and grasping hunger with SUVs and more coal-fired power plants, and the latest imports of gadgets and gewgaws (and the 500 year history of that word is a reminder that this craving is not new).  We feed ourselves out of season foods from far away, forgetting the delightful surprise of the first asparagus of spring or the first corn of summer.  We crave houses so large they shut out the neighbors – with stones that block the sun from back yard gardens.  The protection and prediction we insist on and strive for in all that accumulating frenzy ends in friendlessness, for we have no time to spend cultivating the earthy companionship for which we were created.  That dying body is further burdened by our useless treatment of our own bodies – not just excessive food intake, but vain attempts to mold and remake the clay in others’ images, and remove every microbe from every surface and crevice.  We are made in the image of God, uniquely gifted, beautiful, beloved, and profoundly social.  What we think is human in ourselves is only a tenth of the cells in this communal organism – and the microscopic life within us feeds and nourishes and regulates our lives, until we meddle with its healthy balance.  And then, quite literally, all hell breaks loose as one part of the whole exceeds its place and we find our guts revolting against us.  That sick body, community that it is meant to be, is an apt reflection of the larger body of creation today.

If the stone is removed, and the way of life unblocked, what sort of Lazarus will emerge?  Given what has already been done to that body, it will not be the same one that went in.  Like gut microbes subjected to unrelenting courses of antibiotics, this will be a different community and system.  The organ may still function, but it will do so in different ways.

The dead Lazarus may emerge, yet there will still be work to do in unbinding and turning the body loose to function creatively once more.  The set points and equilibria have already moved, and it will take God’s time and divine creativity to establish new ones.  Species have disappeared; others will emerge, over millennia, to take their places in the society of creation.  The atmosphere has absorbed vast quantities of carbon dioxide and other heat-trapping molecules.  Some will be removed to ocean waters and plant tissues, but the whole system will be warmer than before, probably for geological lengths of time.  The ocean creatures that live with carbonate shells and supports – like corals and some kinds of plankton – are already struggling to lay down those structures.  They, too, may disappear into the fossil record, and the bigger creatures that feed on them – fish, shrimp, whales, birds – may not survive either.  Something will undoubtedly evolve to replace them, but it will take more than the three or four days of Lazarus’ entombment.  It will take something on the time scale of the days of the first Genesis creation story.  God’s time is not our time, nor God’s ways our ways.

The gaping maw of our greed is already making life harder for our human sisters and brothers, as weather patterns shift and food crops repeatedly fail in traditional growing places.  Deserts are expanding, water is evaporating, and there is less health and healing power in parts of this body.  Disease organisms that have been in reasonable equilibrium will emerge with new virulence, as will pests afflicting our food crops.  The results will cause suffering, want, anxiety insecurity.  We know what will almost inevitably follow:  conflict, violence, and war.

The stones are being moved away, the body is emerging, and it is time to unbind the body, and set it loose.  For we have met that body and it is us.  We, too, are Lazarus.  The medieval word was lazar, and it referred to the figure in Luke 16:20, the poor man covered with sores, the leper on the sidewalk outside the rich man’s house.  Samuel Johnson’s definition of a lazar is apt:  “one deformed and nauseous with filthy and pestilential diseases.”[1]  The disease which afflicts lazars, the rich house-holder, and the body of this earth all has a common source – the stones that block awareness, compassion, sharing, mutuality, and love of neighbor – all our neighbors.  The old word for those stones is skandaloi, stumbling blocks.

The mess we’re making of the body of creation is indeed a scandal, born of the temptation to put our individual selves in the place that belongs to the one who is beyond all of us.  The good news is that we know something about the cure.
We are made in the image of God, creative and social beings meant for community.  We routinely stumble over two kinds of scandalous stones – we forget that we were not created to be solitary individuals and we get stuck in understandings of community that are always too small.  Jesus’ presence among us is incarnate evidence of our never-aloneness, and his ministry and death are about serving the whole of humanity and all creation.  That’s why he feeds multitudes, and eats with anybody, even with germy hands, and that’s why he heals outcastes – including lepers and lazars!
Well, friends – friends of Jesus and of one another – we like to profess that we are his hands in this world.  There is abundant healing work to do.  It begins in discovering that our neighbors are far more numerous and diverse than we have heretofore imagined.  From the microbes on our skin and in our guts to the yet-undescribed insects of tropical forests to the denizens of undersea thermal vents and the bacteria of Antarctic subglacial lakes, we are one body of creation.  The health of the human part of God’s body of creation depends on all the members – we are created as a society, and we are created for productive and creative relationship with one another.  We are meant to be friends.  Unbinding Lazarus, and setting all the lazars free, is about restoring each to community and the possibility of redeeming friendship.
All of that takes some vulnerability – and a willingness to understand ourselves as less than omnipotent or omnicompetent.  If we are social creatures, then it is only in community that we will be truly capable of breathing new life into dead and dying bodies.  This body of humanity called the church has often been compared to a ship.  Most ships have a compartment called alazarette.  The word probably comes from the ships that brought lepers to Italian hospitals in the middle ages, but in nautical terms a lazarette is a storage locker near the steering gear.  That part of the ship is always vulnerable, close to the water, in a well near where the rudder or steering gear pierces the outer surface of the ship.  A lazarette is where the emergency gear is stored – sort of a first aid kit for healing, repairing, and saving the ship and the people on it.  In a very real sense, our task of unbinding is to be exposed, to be vulnerable to the force of the storm, and to be equipped and ready to heal and repair.


Friends – lazars!  All hands to the lazarette!  The storm is upon us, and the body may be threatened, yet we know there is also abundant possibility of new life.  Let the wind of life blow in us, remove every stone, and call forth the dead and dying body.  Open us to God breathing new life in us and every part of creation.  Now!  Breathe!  Blow, bellow for Lazarus, bless and unbind that body, that it may be set free to renew the face of the earth.

Thursday, April 25

Bishop Knisely Thanks RI Senate for Passing Marriage Equality Bill


I applaud the Rhode Island Senate for a courageous vote yesterday evening to pass the bill legalizing same-sex marriage, giving all Rhode Islanders equal right to the civil benefits of Marriage.  
I thank the Senate for passing a well balanced bill that I believe will protect the religious freedom of differing faiths with vastly different theological understandings of marriage. The constitution itself provides churches the right to decide who they will and will not marry within their denomination's conscience. 
Here in the Episcopal Church, a majority have come to believe that same-sex couples can live covenanted, faithful lives together in service to God, just as people in traditional marriages do.  Not all Episcopalians agree, but I thank the Senate for passing a bill that provides clergy who wish it the opportunity to minister in this way to the families and people in their congregations.

Thursday, April 18

Friday 4/19 Evening Prayer with Bishop Knisely, for Boston Marathon Tragedy

The tragedy and heroism at the Boston Marathon on Monday held up to the people of New England the fragility of our common life, but also commended our spirit of resilience.

In the wake of this event, The Right Rev. W. Nicholas Knisely, Bishop of Rhode Island will be officiating Evening Prayer using the Book of Common Prayer's "An Order of Worship for the Evening" tomorrow, Friday April 19th at 7:00pm at St. Michael's Church in Bristol Rhode Island.

We welcome all to join us as we address the feelings, emotions, and thoughts that have been brought home at this time, and explore our response to the needs of the people of Boston.

We chose this service to allow prayer and reflection to be the centerpiece of that response, so that the Holy Spirit had room to guide us.

Come reflect, remember, mourn, and process the way to understanding, as well as our actions as the people of God.

Tuesday, February 12

Journey to Easter with Bishop Knisely and the Bible: Why & How

Each day throughout Lent Bishop Knisely will post a meditation here on our blog, which will lead us through reading all of Luke and Acts in preparation for Easter. Download the Reading Schedule and follow along day by day.

From Bishop Knisely's RISEN Magazine Article:

Recently a study was published that listed the top ten most "un-biblical" cities in the United States. Providence was number one. The study claimed that our region was the least likely place for people to take the Bible seriously, to change the way they live their lives because of biblical teaching, or to simply read the Bible outside of Sunday worship.

While there’s a part of me that wants to argue with the study’s findings, there’s another part of me that recognizes a grain of truth. I don’t think Providence is America’s least "biblically minded" city because there are no people of faith in the area. I think it stems from a discomfort with the way the Bible is often used as a bludgeon in social arguments.

So far in my experience, Rhode Islanders are an extraordinarily tolerant people. When they see intolerance buttressed by biblical proof texts toward their neighbors, what I think happens is that the biblical witness becomes suspect because of the willingness to live and let live that makes life here what it is.

But as admirable as that is for our common life, the Bible is a foundation of our common faith. When we reject the misuse of the Bible in debate, we must be very intentional about not also rejecting the Bible’s rightful role in our lives. And for us to use the Bible rightly in our common life, we must first know what the Bible is, and how powerful a witness to God its words can be.
 
I think the Episcopal Church in Rhode Island can be a leader in returning the Bible to its rightful central place in our faith. We can do that by committing ourselves to read and study the lessons it has for us, and then by working together to apply those lessons to our personal and common lives. And the step to doing that is to open our bibles and read.
 
Reading the Bible can be a daunting exercise. The word Bible means library, not book. The Bible isn’t a novel or a text book or even a single coherent story. It is a collection of stories and different forms of literature written over about three thousand years. Parts of the Bible are as different from each other as Beowulf is different from an article in the ProJo (And that’s only a time lapse of 1500 years.) You won’t pick up a Bible and find an easy read from Genesis to Revelations. It’s much better to create a plan of study that will introduce you to the major literature forms, the context in which they were written and how they have been understood differently over the intervening thousands and thousands of years.
 
This Lent I encourage you to start this process. I invite you to read with me over the next forty days, through the Gospel of Luke and its second half, The Book of the Acts of the Apostles. Or just come and listen to the Gospel of Mark read aloud in one sitting at St. St. Martin's, Providence on Friday March 8th at 7pm. Either way, it will start us on a journey of discovering what the Bible is all about and how we can receive its teaching today. It’s the most exciting journey I’ve ever undertaken, and though the end is not yet in sight for me, I invite you to join me wherever you’d like on the way.

Friday, January 18

Bishop Knisely's Statement on Marriage Equality in RI

A statement by Bishop Knisely, sent this morning to all active Episcopal clergy in Rhode Island, with a cover letter that reiterates
"As your Bishop I respect and honor your right to disagree with me. A key part of what it means to be a member of the Episcopal Church is that, as long as we all agree that we believe Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior, we can hold varied and diverse opinions on most other issues and still meet each other in Christ at God's altar."

Statement on Marriage Equality Legislation in Rhode Island
 
As the Episcopal Bishop of Rhode Island, I support the bill before the General Assembly that would allow same-sex couples to marry in our state, not in spite of my Christian faith, but because of it.
 
Episcopalians are not unanimous in our views, but in the Episcopal Church we find our unity in common prayer, not in common opinion. Even so, through many years of prayerful discussion, the majority of Christians in the Episcopal Church have come to believe that it is possible, and even common, for two people of the same-sex to live covenanted, faithful lives together in service to God, just as people in traditional marriages do. We have also learned that it is possible to protect the consciences of those who disagree within our church and still live together in community.
 
Part of what informs my opinion is that before I became a priest and then a bishop, I was a scientist. So I know the importance of trusting evidence that we see with our own eyes. I have seen what St. Paul describes as the fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23) in the married lives of two men and of two women. I have seen relationships that are loving, mutual, and monogamous and that have lasted a lifetime. Jesus tells us that we must test each tree by looking at the goodness of its fruit (Luke 6:43-45). Across our congregations and communities, I can see the goodness of gay and lesbian couples and their families.
 
The Episcopal Church has been blessed for many years by the life and ministry of gay and lesbian couples, both lay and ordained. I have seen how they contribute to the common good of a congregation and a community by creating stable, loving homes. As a new citizen of Rhode Island, I am eager to see our state legislature join many others across the country in passing legislation to ensure civil marriage equality. I believe it is time for the State of Rhode Island to extend marriage equality to all of its citizens. I urge the legislature to pass House Bill 5015.
 
The Rt. Rev. W. Nicholas Knisely
Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Rhode Island

Thursday, December 27

Bishop Knisely's Christmas Sermon

First posted on Bishop Knisely's blog 

Having just returned to the Northeast from the Southwest, it’s not the change in temperature or weather that has been the most striking. It’s the change in the length of and the darkness of the night. In the Southwest, we lived significantly closer to the equator, and being in Arizona, we didn’t “do” daylight savings time. That meant that the days and nights tended to be more the same length all throughout the year. There were no long, long summer nights and there were no short, short winter days. But having arrived in Rhode Island this fall, I’ve noticed that the sun sets much much earlier than I’m used to, and if the day is overcast – which it frequently is – what passes for daylight at this time of year is more like an extended twilight. There have a been a few days this December that I’ve found myself doubting that the sun rose at all – perhaps it’s just spent the day sliding along the southern sky, dropping back below the horizon at some point in the mid-afternoon.

But we didn’t just live in Arizona, we lived in downtown Phoenix – which is, by it’s own accounting – the fourth largest city in the United States. Even after the sunset the sky hardly ever got dark. The desert night was lit with the orange glow of the city lights – and stayed lit through out the year. You could see the moon, but few, if any stars on a typical night.

That’s not at all what I’ve experienced here along the coast in Rhode Island. Sure you can see the lights of Providence to the North, but looking to the South, the sky is as dark as any I’ve seen in a very long time. It’s both glorious and somewhat disconcerting to me.

We are just now past the darkest part of the year. It’s possible, if you pay very close attention to such things, to see that the days are now growing very slightly longer. The sun (when you can see it) is rising a moment or two earlier and setting a few moments later. But only people who know to look for such things can tell that the light is returning – having spent the season of summer and fall fading from the sky. And I suppose, as we stand at the gateway to winter, it can be hard to imagine the long midsummer nights that we expect to return – even as they are.
There’s an old chestnut – it’s always darkest before the dawn. I’m not sure that the saying is literally true, but in terms of our feelings and emotions, I certainly have found it to be exactly so.

As I meditate about darkness and the long dark nights of New England, and I see a sort of parallel in what we all are experiencing in our common life together. This has not been an easy time for our community. We’ve endured a nor’easter and a “super-storm” within weeks of each other, we watched our state unemployment rate refuse to drop while other states begin to finally fall, we learned that we are near last in terms of many measures of what makes a region desirable – and we’re one of only two states in the country to lose population recently.

It’s been a tough time for our common life as citizens of these United States as well – we’ve been through a divisive election that doesn’t seem to have settled anything in particular – we’re still waiting for the national economic recovery we’ve been promised, and we’ve been shocked by mass shootings that seem to be happening at random month by month across this land. It seems we’re just finished mourning one group of victims when the news comes of another, even more horrific set of killings in another part of the country.
And that’s just what I see in the larger picture here in the state and the nation. The world-wide picture isn’t much better. And I’m guessing that most of you here tonight have had to endure any number of shocks and blows these past few years. It’s been a hard time. A time when the darkness seems deep and often impenetrable. A time when it can get harder and harder to believe in the miracle of the birth of God in our midst, or that the light has come into the world, and will come again. In times like these, for many in the diocese, perhaps for many of you in this congregation tonight, believing in the promise that “all manner of things will be well” is more an act of spiritual discipline than a joyful response to what we are witnessing unfolding before our eyes.

When faith becomes a discipline, a thing to be stubbornly lived out rather than a gracious and overwhelming gift, it’s hard to find joy. It’s hard to remember that we are people, who above all others, have reason to HOPE.

But this is not the first time the gathered people of God have found themselves in such a moment in our history. Nor, sadly, do I think it will be the last. In the dark times of Israel under Roman occupation, the tribes scattered around the Mediterranean basin lost hope that God would act decisively on their behalf. In the final days leading up to the miraculous and longed for coming of the world’s Messiah which we remember this night, there was just a faithful remnant who still believed, who still longed and who still were keeping watch in the night. It was just as Isaiah prophesied in the 10th and 11th chapters of that great collection of prophecies, and yet I doubt that the people of the time of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem imagined that they themselves were the people of those prophecies, or that they were the ones who were going to be witnesses to the fulfillment of the plan of salvation. And yet they were, and they did. God broke into their lives, into the life of the World that night and nothing has ever been the same for them, for us and for the World ever since.

Those faithful people, surprised by the events of that moment, were, most significantly in a spiritual sense, standing in long tradition of people who kept faith with God – that God had promised and that God’s promises were sure and trustworthy. They happened to be the ones who witnessed the fulfillment, but more fundamentally, they were part of the great host of people who had gone before and who have since come after, who have had the audacity to trust and believe against all reason that what God had done once in history, God would do again.
These faithful people, Zechariah and Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph, Simeon, and Anna the daughter of Phanuel – and those unnamed in St. Luke’s telling of the tale – like Ezra and Nehemiah, and Judas Maccabeaus, and those who come afterwards: St. Benedict, St. Francis, St. Julian of Norwich, Fr. Pusey and more, and all those we each remember with gratitude in our own hearts; were people that trusted, who had faith, that the light would dawn again. The are, and were, the people who believing in the light, became lights of their own to their day and their time. They became the lights of the world that shone forth in the darkness and gave Hope to those who’s hope had failed.

I think of their unbroken march of faith, of their witness to their own peoples, of the way their lives serve as ornaments to the tree of family of God when I see a Christmas tree dressed in finery and beautiful decorations in every Christmastide. The many faceted glass decorations, the tinsel that sparkles as it catches the light, the lights themselves that illumine and call forth the inner beauty of the tree have all become, for me, pointers, signs and signals to the more glorious, and wild beauty, of march of the faithful sainted remnant of God’s people.

One of the great gifts of Anglican spirituality – of the Episcopal Church in our case – to this moment – is our peculiar focus on the Incarnation of God in Creation and the implications that event and process has on our spirituality. We have a grand tradition of delighting in finding deeper meaning in things, whether it is in the symbolism of furnishings of the altar, the physical gestures we make in our prayers or the common homely traditions of our holidays. And I believe I stand entirely within this earthy, homely tradition of spirituality based in the Incarnation as I invite you to see our seasonal observances through such a lens.
But the ornaments of the tree, of the season are more than just pointers to people who believed in the promise. They are also heralds to us, and to those who have eyes to see, of the fulfillment of that promise as it happened on a particular night so long ago. It’s their pointing to what has happened and what is yet to come that makes them so profoundly moving to me when I see them again each year – and seeing them as signs and symbols of the life of the faithful people of God arranged on our family tree – reminds me that I must never lose my hope in them, in our time, or in our God.

And going one step further, I remind myself of my, our own, particular calling to take our place among them. Because that is why we gather tonight. To join that merry throng – that witnessed once and again and again that Mary and Joseph are come to Bethlehem – and in the darkness of that night, of this night, the Child that we have longed for was born to us and to the world.

You and I are called to be signs of the promise ourselves – to be little lights to the world that in the long darkness of these nights struggles to continue to believe in the dawn. We must take our place in that long train of witness because, without such witness, there comes despair.

How important is it for us to be signs? More than we often recognize. Because in taking up our task, we can be the light that breaks into the deepest darkness of human experience. Do you remember the story of the Christmas Truce?
When women’s groups and the fifteenth Pope Benedict asked the French, British and German governments to observe a day of truce on Christmas in 1914, the leaders of the war effort refused. But the matter didn’t end there. While similar events apparently took place up and down the western lines that Christmas Eve in 1914, the first truce broke out in the lines near Ypres. German troops began to decorate their trenches as darkness fell that night. They lit candles along their trenches and on their make-shift Christmas trees. Inspired by the decorations they had placed, they began to sing Christmas carols. British troops, in the trenches on the other side of no-man’s land, began to sing English carols in response. Eventually, as the darkness deepened that night, a few soldiers ventured up out of the trenches and made their way toward their enemies. The combatants met in the middle, framed by the lights of Christmas with carols sounding in the night. They exchanged presents and it’s said even the odd soccer game was begun as dawn began to break.
Though the generals looked on with great alarm, throughout the rest of Christmas day the enemies remembered that they were in fact cousins, with many shared customs and beliefs. And when eventually ordered, at gunpoint by their own officers, back into their respective trenches to return to the deadly work of the battle of attrition, those men remembered that time-out-of-time that they had shared with their foes.

How extraordinary that events of that night, now remembered in movies, songs and countless books, began by starting to light candles against the dark. Those Christmas lights, those decorations, recalled warring peoples to their senses and for the brief time they were allowed, they honored humanities better angels.
A dear bishop of mine once charged me, as one of his priests, to remember that, in a day such as ours, it is enough for the Church to recall that we are to sing Christmas Carols in the darkness of a culture and community that seems to prefer to war with itself rather than to strive for the common good. I’ve never forgotten that charge. And on nights like this, in days such as these, I recognize the wisdom of this words.
And so, this Christmas Eve in 2012, as I stand here among you as your new bishop, I ask everyone of you here, whether you are a member of this church, a friend, or a seeker after truth, to go out from this place proclaiming Christmas with all your might. The light HAS come into the world. The world now, and forever will, shines with the glow of the Christ child, the angels who announced his birth, and the joy of his family.
Keep Christmas well these next twelve days. Proclaim the angel chorus as best you can with whatever voice and instrument God has given into your care.
Light your candles, trim your trees, lift your voices in song. Help this world remember what has happened, and what is yet to come. Help the children of Abraham to remember whose they are and their high and glorious calling. Help the world to see, in our joy, a promise of what might be.

We are called to be light for the world. We are called to be a sign of the light that has come and will come again. We are sent out into the world as heralds of the Hope that the Prince of Peace gives as the gift to celebrate his coming.
Do you remember earlier when I mentioned the days are growing brighter, but it’s very hard to notice unless you’re looking? That most people just know that the darkness has come and are not aware that the light is once again winning its yearly battle?
We are the people who have noticed the light coming back into the word. We gather in the darkness of this night to bear witness to the light. We are sent out to be the heralds of the dawn.
May God give you the will and the means to be angels bringing hope to all who seek the light in the darkness.
Amen.

Friday, December 14

Letter from Bishop Knisely: The Tragedy in Newtown, CT

From a letter sent this afternoon:

Dear clergy and people of Rhode Island;

We are all struggling to make sense of what is, at its heart, a senseless act of violence. I invite those who wish, to add the following collect to your prayers in the Episcopal churches of Rhode Island this Sunday. It is based on the collect for the observance of the deaths of the Holy Innocents (Dec. 28)

We remember this day, O God, the slaughter of the innocent victims of violence in Newtown Connecticut. Receive, we pray, into the arms of your mercy all innocent victims; and by your great might frustrate the designs of the doers of evil and establish your rule of justice, love and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you in unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. AMEN.

You are in my prayers as you work with your congregations in light of this tragic news. May God give you wisdom to proclaim hope in the darkness as you enter the pulpit this Sunday.

+Nicholas

Thursday, December 13

Convention 2012: Bishop's Address


As I stand here and address this 222nd Diocesan Convention I’m aware of the great march of history that these meetings have represented, and how little of that history I share with all of you. Just two weeks ago I was in an upper room at St. George’s school sitting with a host of bishops nervously waiting for call to start the procession into the main room. Walking into that space was an experience that I’m still processing, and one that I expect I’ll be reflecting on for a long time.  It was the culmination of over a year’s discernment on both of our parts and the beginning of what I pray will be a long and happy shared ministry together.

I’ve been here in the state for three months as of this morning. For most of that time I have been learning about you, about the history and traditions of the diocese and about the amazing resources that you share and that you are. I wish I had the ability to tell you how extraordinary you all are, how inspiring your passion for God is and how much affection people have for all of you across the Episcopal Church. But I’ve gotten to know you all well enough in this short time to know that you’re already wondering who I’m talking about when I say this, and just what it is that I’d be going on about.

While this year of search, discernment and transition is growing to a close, I don’t think that the processes that brought us all to this moment have ended, and I don’t imagine that they will any time soon. There’s much we need to learn about each other, and more importantly, there’s much we need to learn about the world that is changing at an ever increasing pace all around us. I hope you’ll agree to keep walking with me on this journey, keep struggling to hear that still small voice of the creator that fills all of creation, and continue to have enough faith to believe in an exciting future in spite of the so many very real fears that confront us.

I do have one special request. I’ve been a bishop now for just under two weeks. As you listen to what I say this morning, and as you seek to tease out any hidden meanings, I’d ask that you keep in mind that short two week period. There are things that are still very new to me. Like being called “bishop”… I keep looking around to see who’s come into the room when people say that. I know that I will make mistakes in the first year, and that I will do things that will be interpreted to mean something that I didn’t intend them to be. And I expect you might do the same with me. That you will say things and do things that I will misunderstand. We both bring a lifetime’s worth of experiences with the church and with other bishops, to this new relationship or ours. Perhaps if we can both keep in mind that we’re all new at this, we can try hard to see what is happening and not read into a word or a moment more than is really present. This is a spiritual discipline I mean for both myself and all of you; and it’s something that I’ve learned is an excellent for all groups of people entering into new relationships with each other - both in parochial ministry and in everyday life.
At any rate, I’ll try and I hope you will too.

I have so many thank you’s to share that if I tried to just mention every one by name, we wouldn’t be out of here until next week. It’s been an amazing year and it’s been filled to the bursting with amazing people. My first contact with the Diocese of Rhode Island came when Lora MacFall contacted me to say that my name had been nominated as part of the bishop search and that if I was willing, she had some questions she’s like me to answer. Little did I expect where that would lead. And little did I expect how much respect, gratitude and even awe I now hold in my heart toward her. I suspect that the entire search and transition committee would join me in all of that. But Lora would be very quick to point out that she was not alone in the task that you all undertook, and so I want to say thank you both personally and on behalf of this entire convention to everyone who was a part of the search and transition process - as a member of the committees, as someone who helped out in a specific way or was willing to enter into the discernment process as a fellow participant. Thank you for all the late nights, the difficult decisions, the faithful actions and willingness to open yourselves up to God’s action in our community.

I want to say thank you as well to all the people who participated in the ordination service two weeks ago. I have heard again and again from people that it was a moving, beautiful and deeply prayerful experience. I know as a liturgist that such things don’t just happen. There were months of planning that went into the event, there were thousands of volunteers and tens of thousands of hours of work that made it possible for everything to seem to happen so effortlessly.
Thank you!

You should know that the Presiding Bishop remarked repeatedly on how well organized the whole event was and how thoughtfully prepared the liturgy and participants were. Thank you to the many people who traveled from across the country to be a part of the day, and who made the event a memory that I shall cherish the rest of my life. Thank you to my new colleagues in the house of bishops who made it here on that holiday travel week. And thank you to many musicians, acolytes and clergy who participated by offering their special gifts in service to our diocese.

The Presiding Bishop, in addition to praising the work of the Transition committee, was also clear that we all owe a debt of thanks to Bishop Wolf and her staff for the work they did to make this entire transition go as smoothly as it did. As one who was intimately involved in this process, I can testify that the 12th bishop was determined that the 13th bishop would have full access to whatever he needed to get started in this new ministry as quickly and as effectively as possible. Likewise the diocesan staff has been wonderfully helpful in making this transition work. From little things like making sure I knew how to find my way around the state to big things like helping to figure out how to get Linda Grenz on the staff as quickly as possible.

Just as I owe thanks to the diocesan staff, I owe thanks to the entire diocese. You all have welcomed me and my family warmly into yours. I have been stunned by the warmth and generosity of your welcome. You have made it very hard for me to believe in the myth of the taciturn yankees of Southern New England. The people I have met have been hospitable, generous, kind, and funny. I’m grateful that I am going to get to spend a very long time in your company.

I want to take a moment to thank the people of Arizona too. So many of you have asked me how the transition of moving from Arizona to Rhode Island was going, worried that I was going to be surprised by the cold and the rain. The people of Arizona know that it was actually the other way around. Moving there six years ago, I had to learn to manage with the heat, the dust and a much spicier menu than my PA dutch palate was used to eating. But they welcomed me into their community and put up with my very eastern ways. (Apparently most people don’t wear blue oxfords and dock-siders in the desert…) When I told them that I had been elected to serve as the 13th bishop of Rhode Island, they were as generous in saying good bye as they had been in saying hello. The cross I wear around my neck is a present from that congregation and some of the vestments that I was presented with at my ordination were purchased for our use by their donations.

Finally, in this long list of thank you’s I want to thank my family, my daughter Kenney and my wife Karen. It’s no small thing to have to uproot your life because someone you love has been called by God to serve in new place and in a new way. But that has happened six times including the initial trip to seminary. Karen and Kenney have handled each of the transitions in a way that gives witness to their deep faith in God and their willingness to answer God’s call to them.

I’m sure by now a number of you have wondered about my vision for the Diocese of Rhode Island. It’s a question that I expected to be explicitly asked by the search and nomination committee and one that I recall coming up as part of the walk-about interviews last spring. My answer now is the same as it was then. I’m not convinced that it is proper, much less effective, for the two week old bishop of a diocese to tell the diocese where they are to aim themselves. I just don’t believe it is effective at the diocesan level because I’ve not found it to be completely effective at the parish level as I’ve participated in early stages of transition.

Rather I believe it is important for the leadership of a community to learn to listen to the diverse voices within a community and then to reflect back to them what is being heard. Once the community recognizes their own voice - as their leader expresses their hopes and dreams as a people - they are ready to do the work of planning how to achieve what they are describing.
I do have some areas that I believe we must focus on within our diocesan life. As you’ve probably already noticed, I hold leadership development among the young people of the diocese to be a high priority. I also believe we need to be even more effective in communicating to the people of this state than we already are. But those are my personal goals and things that I will work to support during my time as your bishop.

But the vision of the diocese is yours to determine.

So in the coming year or so, I hope you will see me doing a lot of listening. I probably won’t be doing all that much talking. That can be unsettling if you’re not used to it. I’ve seen communities become concerned that there’s a hidden agenda since they don’t see one being revealed as quickly as they’d like. But I think it’s important to remember that you and I have time. God willing I’ll be your bishop something like the next 15 years, perhaps more. We don’t have to do everything overnight. We’re blessed to be in a place where we are, for the most part, not being dictated to by a series of urgent crises demanding a response. We are in a place where we can be strategic in our decision making, and I think it’s important for us to appreciate what this means.

So how will I listen? You have my email address: nick@episcopalri.org - or Nicholas or bishop or whatever else you can find on the web. They all work, and they all come directly to me. I do want to hear from you - particularly those of you in this room today. You are the elected and ordained leadership of the diocese and in my servant ministry among you, I need to hear your voices.
But it’s not just email. I’ll be trying to show up in your parishes over the next few years. Sometimes just to spend time with you. Sometimes as part of a formal visitation. Sometimes because you’ve invited me and I want to make that a priority. And I’ll try to hang out with you at coffee hour, and before and after the service. Talking directly with the people we serve is one of the best parts of being a member of clergy, and I don’t intend to miss out on the good stuff.

A number of you have contacted me on Facebook and on twitter. I’ve already gotten a reputation as being the “digital bishop” or the bishop of social media. (Remind me to say a special thanks to Bishop Kirk Smith for that… heh.) I do all that to be accessible to you. But I do it just as much because I want to hear your voices as much as I can. And I want to hear the voices of the other people in the state - the people who are not part of the Episcopal Church but who are searching to hear the Good News that God loves us and that God has been faithful to us even when we didn’t always reciprocate.
And then in the next couple of years, I’m going to start reflecting back to you what I’m hearing. And asking you to tell me if it seems genuine. And then together we are going to figure out what we need to do to get to where we believe God is calling us to be.

I admit that there’s one common thing I’ve been hearing already - and which I’m already ready to reflect back to you. And that is your concern about the future of St. John’s Cathedral church in Providence. From the moment it was announced that I had been nominated, I’ve been asked what was going to be done about the Cathedral. When the services at St. John’s were suspended last spring, the number of questions increased. And after I was elected, it’s been hard to have a conversation, an interview, or even just walk along Benefit Street in Providence, without having someone ask me about the Cathedral. As I’ve started to spend Sunday mornings with you, or meet clergy and leaders at deanery events, the same question is raised.
So, I get it. This is a big concern for all of you.

And the most common concern I hear raised is that people don’t feel that they were given a chance to participate in the decision making process. For some the news that the Cathedral was going to have its services suspended came as a complete surprise. For others it was a disappointing but not surprising announcement even if it the timing was unanticipated. And for some, who did participate in the decision making process, there’s surprise that any of this was a surprise.

The upshot from where I stand, is that the process by which this particular decision was made did not have much buy-in from the community. And that is why the community (both of the Cathedral itself but also of the diocese and the neighborhood around St. John’s) is struggling to understand what happened.
The good news is that the way the decision was made has left us an opportunity to revisit it - though to be honest the challenges facing the Cathedral are in some ways greater now that it has stood vacant and unused for the past six months.

But we can revisit the decision, and hopefully construct a different kind of process that will allow us to have a greater participation and buy-in once it comes to a conclusion.

So, all that said, with your consent, I am calling for the creation of a special ad-hoc task force to look at the ministry and property of St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral in Providence with the goal of reporting back to the 223rd Diocesan Convention a set of options for that convention to consider. I would hope that the committee to be made up of clergy and lay leaders of the diocese, of the former members of the Cathedral community and of the wider community of Providence would describe each option and list as much as possible what resources would be needed to act on any one of them. I envision a task force of something like a dozen people who would report regularly on their progress and process to Diocesan Council during the next year. I would like to present a list of names for the Task Force to the Diocesan Council for their consent at their January meeting.

At the presentation of their report, the task force will be disbanded. This is a different group than the existing Chapter of the Cathedral - which was appointed to a two year term this past July by Bishop Wolf, but which to my knowledge has not subsequently met. It is different than the Cathedral Corporation, who held the endowments of the Cathedral prior to returning them to the Chapter. But I expect that the task force will include members of the Chapter going forward.

A relatively well know  Chicago politician has been known to remark that it is a shame to ever waste a moment such as we have arrived at with the Cathedral. It seems to me that we are given the gift of an opportunity to learn a new way to make decisions as a community going forward. And that opportunity is too precious a thing to not be taken seriously.

I hope that you will not object to this proposal, and that in about a year’s time you will be ready to make some hard decisions about how we are going to use the assets that have been given to us in our moment of leadership to continue to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus as we move forward into the three hundredth year of ministry at the corner of Church Street and North Main.

There was another common question that I was repeatedly asked during the walk-abouts at St. Andrew’s last May. That was what I would do about allowing for a generous pastoral response to people in same-sex relationships who are active in the Episcopal Church, and who ask for the Episcopal Church’s blessing on their intention to live into a covenant of lifelong, monogamous, mutual loving relationships. I said then that I intended to vote for such legislation at General Convention this past summer, and given that it would be hypocritical for me, should I be elected bishop to block such blessings going forward.

I was indeed elected, and I did intend to vote in favor. But the vote came to the House of Deputies days after I resigned my seat in that body and had been seated as bishop-elect in the House of Bishops. But both houses of General Convention did vote in the affirmative by significant majorities to approve the provisional use of blessing liturgies for, in case of Rhode Island, same-sex couples entering into civil partnerships here in Rhode Island or a marriage in one of our neighboring states. I am going to give permission, indeed I have already done so in one case for a couple desiring a ceremony later this month.
But my giving of this permission represents a significant change in policy for the Diocese of Rhode Island. While Bishop Wolf did vote in favor of the blessing liturgies at General Convention, she did not allow such services to take place. That means that we don’t have the infrastructure that I believe we need to have moving forward. Because of that, I am going to create a small task force to work with me in December and January to quickly create guidelines for use by congregations in the diocese who wish to offer this pastoral office to their members.

There are a few questions that need to be decided. How do we make the decision that a parish would like to offer this ministry? I would strongly urge, in fact I have already required, that the vestry or bishop’s committee pass a resolution expressing their support of the offering of blessings to be communicated, along with a letter from the rector or priest in charge, before the first blessing takes place. No priest is required to perform a blessing service, and the legislation enacted at General Convention was very clear that there must be no penalty for a member of the clergy who’s conscience will not allow them to do so. Similarly, because the blessings take place in the context of a worshiping community, it seems important to me to know that the community in who’s presence these blessings are going to occur is committed to supporting the couple.

If a parish and priest decide to take up this ministry of blessing, what expectations should we as a diocese place upon those coming seeking the blessing? What requirements should there be for pre-blessing counseling? What requirements are most helpful in the case of a prior divorce? What resources shall we provide if there are children who will be living with their parents in a civil partnership? What extra legal resources must we be careful to discuss with the couple, given the present difference between civil partnerships and marriage here in Rhode Island, and in Federal law?

Many of the questions have been anticipated, and resources are provided in the official materials approved at General Convention. In addition, the Diocese of Rhode Island is part of Province One of the Episcopal Church and many of our sibling dioceses have had long experience with answering these questions and have shared that experience with us already. So the time to create the guidelines shouldn’t be longer than a month or two I would imagine. And again, in keeping with the recognition that Diocesan Council is the Diocesan Convention meeting in recess, I would like to bring the guidelines that are created to Council for their approval. Having received that approval, I will authorize them to be used by any parish or mission that formally requests to do so.

For those who have waited so long, I apologize that you must wait just a little while longer. But I believe it is important that in a matter like this that we have a chance to have a broad a consultation as possible (albeit quickly). I’ve only been your bishop for two weeks now, and as I mentioned, this represents a significant change in policy for our diocese. But if there is a pastoral necessity that arises here or there in the next two months, I will be happy to talk directly with the responsible clergy directly. As I mentioned, I have already done so.

On the topic of clergy… I have begun a conversation with the members of the Commission on MInistry. There are, as you might expect by this point in my address, going to be some changes in the process we use to discern ordained ministry and in the way it is expressed in the Diocese of Rhode Island. The first and most immediate is that I will be talking with them about guidelines for the recruitment of more deacons to serve in our parishes and ministries around our state. We will be talking about what the ministry of deacon might look like here in Rhode Island and what it is we as a people need to be able lift up women and men to serve as exemplars and living icons of servant ministry in our midst.

We (the COM and I) have already committed ourselves to a conversation about the ministry of the priesthood in the 21st century as well. While the classic vision of parochial ministry will still be with us, and still be an important part of our common life, there is a need for new forms and new sorts of preparation for priestly ministry in Rhode Island. And as we begin to share consensus on what that will be, we will need to begin to recruit new leaders who we believe have been uniquely gifted by God for that new sort of role.

I expect we will be issuing new guidelines about the schedule and structure of the process of discernment for ordained ministry as well. I believe the most effective discernment of ministry takes place in the person’s local community with their local clergy and fellow parishioners. I believe we will move toward a strengthening of that role going forward.

You should expect to hear news from my office in the next months about the ministry of the existing deacons of the diocese. I believe the Episcopal Church, particularly in Rhode Island, is poised to enter a period of growth and expansion. Indeed I am already hearing from a number of you about new people expressing interest in your communities, in growing children’s formation programs and in crowded worship spaces. Hallelujah! We will need workers to go into the vineyard as quickly as we can find them. But it would be shame to miss opportunities because we didn’t believe we had the resources we needed. I am hoping that the deacons and I will come to a common mind on how to respond to this need in the short term.
Like I said, stay tuned.

And finally, a common question I was asked prior and immediately following my consecration was “What do you want us to call you?” My response has been that I don’t have a particular title in mind, but that I’m fascinated to discover what the community will bestow upon me. Well that question seems to have been quickly answered. Bishop Smith called me the “Digital Bishop” in his sermon at my ordination, and local news and radio reporters have picked up on that theme. I was titled the “tweeting bishop” by Channel 12 in their promo the other evening of a TV interview I did with them on my use of social media.

Digital Bishop and Tweeting bishop were not exactly the titles I had expected, but he who opens his mouth… must abide by the decisions of the community.
So if that’s how I’m to be known for the moment, then I intend to embrace the implications. I do think we as a people must learn to be able to share the gospel with people around us in a way that shows them the same dazzling richness of God’s love that brought each one of us to this particular place. As a few people have quipped, “your tweet today might be the only gospel someone will hear.” Or your Facebook status, or blog post, or newspaper article or…

This is true for the clergy of the diocese in an obvious way simply by virtue of their having been set apart for the service of the Gospel. But it is just as, if not more true for the laity of the diocese because their voices have a unique power to speak to their neighbors without the overlay of stuff that often drowns out the voice of the clergy. I know for me it was the witness of my close friends that brought me back into the church when I was a student in Delaware all those years ago.

I’m hoping that in the coming years we will all build on the excellent foundation that has already been laid here in the Diocese of Rhode Island and continue to find new and compelling ways to share the Gospel with our neighbors. It’s not all social media you know. I’ve seen people use yard signs, use church socials, use beach cleanup events, use softball leagues, and even use coffee and donuts to effectively share the good news.

We are all called to be evangelists, and we all have exactly what we need to do what God asks of us. It’s going to be different for each one of us, but if we are faithful, we will be doing God’s will. We will share the vision of God’s dream for ourselves and our neighbors. We will take our place as missionaries and emissary’s a new and glorious way of living - and we will be doing this at a particular moment in history that I believe needs our voices as much as any we have experienced in our state’s history.

Thank you for calling me to labor beside you in this work. Thank you for gifting me and this community with all we will need to do what the tasks that God has set us to doing. Thank you for being courageous enough to live lives that witness to the hope that is in all of us.

Wednesday, December 5

Bishop Nicholas Knisely to appear as St. Nick

This Sunday Bishop Nicholas Knisely, the 13th Bishop of RI, will make a special appearance as the original Santa Claus, jolly old St. Nicholas, Bishop of Myra.  The event is the 32nd Annual Pawtuxet Village Ecumenical Christmas service, check out the flyer below for details. If you need more of an incentive to come than seeing our newly ordained Bishop dressed up as everyone's favorite Saint, come for the chocolate gold coins. Learn more about St. Nicholas here.

Tuesday, December 4

13th Bishop of RI Ordination: Video Online

If you weren't able to join with the 2,000 Episcopalians who attended the November 17th Ordination of The Right Reverend W. Nicholas Knisely, 13th Bishop of RI, you can now watch the entire service online here. Enjoy.


Tuesday, November 20

Video: "Digital Bishop" Sermon from Bishop Knisely's Ordination

Sermon given by The Bishop Kirk Smith of the Episcopal Diocese of Arizona on Saturday November 17th, 2012 at the Ordination of Bishop Knisely, the 13th Bishop of Rhode Island. Bishop Smith was Bishop Knisely's former employer as he comes to RI from a position as Dean of the Cathedral in Phoenix, AZ.



Digital Bishop
By The Rt. Rev. Kirk smith, Bishop of the Diocese of Arizona
Originally posted at http://arizonabishop.blogspot.com/

We have all been at meetings where the first thing the speaker does is to ask the audience to turn off their cell phones. This afternoon I am going to do just the opposite—I am going to ask you to take them out and to turn them on! Why? because you, my brothers and sisters, have a got yourselves a bishop for the 21st Century, a digital bishop, one who is going to help you communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ in a whole new and exciting way. So get those smart phones ready, because beginning today you are about to tweet, facebook, and social media your way into the minds and hearts of a new generation--those who may text dozens of messages everyday, but have never heard the Message, who belong to virtual communities but not to a community of faith, who may be Linked-In, but are not yet raised up. Who follow their friends on Facebook but who are not yet followers of Christ.

If you think that I am putting you on, that is because as Episcopalians we are seriously out of touch with a world where the average teenager sends over 3000 text messages a month, where the number one goal of nearly all Fortune 500 companies is to increase their social media presence, and where Facebook has over a billion users, making it the equivalent of the third largest country in the world. In the past, the church used the revolution caused by the printing press to share the Gospel with the world. It has pretty much dropped the ball ever since, missing out on the opportunities given to it by film, radio and television. Is it too late? Here are some are two scary facts—80% of people looking for a church to attend for the first time, go to the internet, and yet only 20% of Episcopal churches have an active and up-to-date website. Here is another one. There are 110 active bishops in this country, only six are on Twitter, and yet at our General Convention this summer, when we were discussing the blessings of same sex unions, over 10 million people worldwide were following us on Twitter! File this under #majorfail.

Of course your new bishop is one of those high tech bishops. In fact, he might be said, like Al Gore, to have invented the internet, at least for Episcopalians. You will probably hear from him the story of how as a graduate student back in the 1980’s he realized that the then clunky computers he was using would have tremendous potential, and he set out to learn all about them and especially about how the church could use the Web. By now you all know that Nick is a smart guy, how many bishops have an advanced degree in physics? What you may not know is how much he knows about technology. He taught our Arizona clergy how to blog, and as the cathedral Dean in Phoenix, so much of his time was spent consulting about IT, that I considered getting him a tee-shirt which read, “NO, I will not fix your computer.”

Your new bishop’s desire to embrace technology is motivated by far more than a desire to be cool, hip, or wired. It comes instead from a longing to connect, especially with those in our society who are often on the margins of the churches’ attention, especially young people.

Bishop Thomas Marsh Clark, fifth Bishop of Rhode Island told his convention in 1898: “Innovation is not always improvement, but there can be no improvement without innovations. That which is more familiar to us was a novelty once, and that which is new to us will become familiar in the process of time." Your new bishop embodies that tradition of Yankee innovation.

Those of you who were at the electing convention will remember that when Nick’s election was announced, you all sang his favorite hymn, “They cast their nets in Galilee.” We sang it again just now. This was more appropriate than you may know. Years ago, I served in a parish in Old Lyme Connecticut, not too far from here, and so my family would often come over Rhode Island to take the ferry to Block Island. That ferry leaves from—Galilee, Rhode Island! (As I recall there used to be a pretty good seafood restaurant there). Galilee, Rhode Island is named of course after the place where Jesus did most of his ministry, and from whence he called his disciples. Why did Jesus base his ministry in Galilee? It was not his hometown. He had to make quite a trip to get there. The answer I think is that Galilee was the cultural crossroads of Jesus’ day. It was home to many different ethnic groups, and hosted many different religious traditions. Even though it was rural, it was a melting pot, a kind of first century Times Square.

It is to that mix of culture and beliefs that Jesus preaches his message. His audience is not the good, temple-going, establishment type Jew of Jerusalem. But the marginalized and the forgotten. Remember all the dismissive comments from the Jewish establishment about Jesus “the Galilean”. Hence someone for them not to be taken seriously.

A digital bishop cannot but be concerned about one group found in our own modern Galilee of high tech pop culture, and that is youth. Its is to youth that the church must “cast its INTERnet.” Internet communication is not a toy for young people—it is a way of life. It is the language they speak, and if the church is going to grow, it will have to realize this. This fact is especially hard for Episcopalians, a greying denomination where the average age is 62, and where the average number of youth involved in an Episcopal parish is 8. We all say we want to attract young people and children and families, and yet most church budgets allocate more for coffee hour than they do for children and youth.

One of the few dioceses in this country that is growing in numbers has done so because of a concerted effort a decade ago to put a youth minister in every parish. Your new bishop will also make the needs of youth a priority. He talks to them, not down to them. And he speaks their language both online and offline. I have seen him do that at our Arizona diocesan camp and at the cathedral in Phoenix, which thanks to his efforts now does have a full time youth director. Nick knows that those fishermen in Galilee who followed Jesus were not the bearded figures we tend to imagine, but were all probably about 18-20 years old. When they followed the Savior, they left their old man, their father Zebedee in the boat. Hmm, I wonder what that might mean?

But there is no use in effectively communicating if we don’t have something to communicate. And your new bishop is clear as to what that is—the Good News of Jesus Christ. This might seem like a no-brainer, but sadly that is sometimes not the case in our church. I remember very well the meeting I had with the Arizona Cathedral Chapter just before they called Nick as their new Dean seven years ago. They were down to two candidates, and I was with them to help break the deadlock, I asked each member of the cathedral chapter to tell me what they liked most about the two finalists. One woman, said, “I really like that Nick Knisely, there is only one problem, in his interview he talked about Jesus an awful lot.” Another member of the chapter quickly chimed in. “Oh, don’t worry about that, he said, “It’s just a fad, they are all doing it these days!”

Happily we have come a long way since then. The cathedral in Phoenix has seen a nearly threefold increase in attendance since six years ago, due mainly to Nick’s instance that the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is to be proclaimed in that place with power, clarity and conviction. Nationally too, we have learned the hard way that merely resting on our laurels as genteel post-Victorian protestants is not going to bring new people in. We need to be absolutely focused on our mission and unapologetic about our church: Episcopalian and proud of it!

We need to be clear in our theology: No more Unitarians in vestments. We must be compelling in our worship—(no more mumbling our way through the prayer book and droning hymns by 19th Century dead white guys.) We have to be demanding in our formation as disciples—no more confirmation classes in which a few weeks of instruction to bored eighth graders is the standard for joining the church.

Bishop Andy Doyle of Texas (another digital bishop) has a new book called Unabashedly Episcopalian in which he rightly challenges us to fall in love once again with our Episcopal church. It’s not enough just to aspire to follow Jesus, we must live out our discipleship in a unique church community with a particularly rich theology and tradition which we can be proud of. In his words: “I am not challenging you to come up with your own really cool understanding of our church, but rather to choose to form people of every age in the way of the Episcopal Church...to be unabashedly Episcopalian.” Nick, we are all called to be unabashedly Episcopalian, and today, we call you to be our bishop unabashedly! And so I would ask you to now stand.

You stand facing the altar, but you also stand with with 200 years of history and ministry of the Diocese of Rhode Island, standing behind you. You stand on the shoulders of its previous twelve bishops, most importantly those of Gerry Wolf, and the clergy and lay leadership who elected you. They have chosen to consecrate you on the feast day of two great bishops of the medieval English Church, Hugh of Lincoln and Robert Grosseteste. Hugh, because he was known for his great personal piety, and his gentle pastoring of his clergy and people. Legend has it that as he traveled around his diocese he was so humble that he chose to walk rather than ride his horse. Although this might in fact be possible given the compact nature of your diocese, I do understand they have provided you with a Toyota. Robert Grosseteste on the other hand was noted for his intellect. He was chancellor of Oxford University before he was elected bishop of Lincoln, where he wrote on physics and astronomy and pioneered the scientific method--sound familiar? His great learning earned him his surname of Grosseteste which means literally “swelled head,” or “egg head,” as we might say today--so be careful! It is these two qualities of pastor and teacher that this diocese was looking for, and it is these two gifts that you will bring them. Indeed, you have already began to care for them when you contacted every congregation after Hurricane Sandy, and you have already begun to teach them on your online blog. As you continue this Episcopal ministry, always be mindful the changing nature of the church you serve. Be to them a true digital bishop, using technology to strengthen relationships, to reach the unchurched, and to proclaim the Good News.

And Karen and Kenney, I would ask you to stand. For you have an important job too. Your task is to remind Nick that his ministry begins at home, and that his care for you is to be above all others. I once heard a wise old priest say that in ministry, the clergy person is required to keep many different balls in the air--some of them are made of rubber and some are made of glass. The rubber ones represent work, the glass ones, family. If you should happen to drop one of the rubber balls, it will bounce, but the glass ones will shatter. So Karen and Kenny, remind your husband and father that he may be the chief pastor of the Diocese, but you are his most important flock.

And the rest of you, members of this great Diocese, would you all please stand. You have probably all noticed that you are not standing in church building today, but on an athletic playing field. I hope this symbolism in not lost on you, for you are all called upon to be part of a team. Nick may be your new captain, but he can’t play the game without all of you, from those who are the starting players, to those who spend most of their time on the bench, or carrying water. The team called the Diocese of Rhode Island needs all of you. And it needs you to both treat your captain with respect and with care. No intentional fouls, no elbowing on the court, no playing out of bounds, and make sure you all call for plenty of time-outs. Talk to your captain and not about him. Make sure he takes his day off, and remember you are all wearing the same uniform--you know, the one which has written on it, “the cross is my anchor.”

Now sit down and get out your phones. To paraphrase Jesus in our Gospel for today, “Be dressed for action and with your phones turned on!” Before you leave here today I want you to text, twitter, or post an important message. Your message is going to reach more people than has ever happened before in the Diocese of Rhode Island. Here is the math--the average smartphone user has about 100 friends or followers. There are about 2000 people here today. So that means nearly a quarter of million people are going to receive this proclamation:

“The Episcopal Church in Rhode Island is a church for the 21st Century.

You invited to join us in the name of Jesus.

For we have a great new bishop--thanks be to God!