Author Archives: Neil Alan Willard

“Don’t you all believe in foot-washing?” Yes!

By the Jewish reckoning of days, beginning with sunset rather than sunrise, tonight’s liturgy in which Christians recall the institution of the Lord’s Supper marks the beginning of the Paschal Triduum: The Great Three Days, which culminate in the Sunday of the Resurrection (i.e., The Paschal Feast or Easter Day). This evening is when Jesus gathered with his friends, not only sharing with them bread and wine but also washing their feet as an example of servanthood.

Washing feet on this night in the church brings with it memories of my paternal grandfather. Granddaddy, as he was known, was a deacon in the Primitive Baptist Church (a.k.a. Old School, Hard Shell, or Foot-Washing Baptists). There’s a humorous reference to that tradition in the novel To Kill a Mockingbird:

“You know old Mr. Radley was a foot-washing Baptist—”
“That’s what you are, ain’t it?”
“My shell’s not that hard, child. I’m just a Baptist.”
“Don’t you all believe in foot-washing?”
“We do. At home in the bathtub.”

Oddly, I had to become an Episcopal priest to experience that ritual in a church service. Now I think of it and of the use of “real” wine for Holy Communion as two direct connections to Granddaddy’s experience of the Christian faith. So if I’m ever asked about foot-washing, I’ll say that I definitely believe in it without reference to a bathtub. I believe in it for the same reason that Granddaddy did – a reason that’s beautifully described in the 13th chapter of the Fourth Gospel:

. . . during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord — and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.

Martyrs Topic: The Witness of Dietrich Bonhoeffer

As most of you have now heard, the 20th-century pastor and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer failed to get past the 19th-century saint and queen Emma of Hawaii  to face Mary Magdalene, Apostle to the Apostles, in today’s championship round to win the Golden Halo of Lent Madness. My prediction is that Mary Magdalene will most likely win this final round. Then she’ll be famous with her Golden Halo, and, next thing you know, preachers around the world will be talking about her in their sermons on Saturday night and Sunday morning. Mark my words . . .

That doesn’t mean, however, that the St. Stephen’s Martyrs – a men’s group – can’t continue to honor Pastor Bonhoeffer on this day. His life and witness, and especially his struggles in relation to his faith and Nazi Germany, will provide the framework for our conversation at tonight’s meeting. What would we have done if we faced the same life and death situations and decisions that he faced?

You can read a short biography of Bonhoeffer, a few quotes from him, and a reflection about him on the Lent Madness website. I’m linking to that website so you can read the comments there. You’ll be able to see the different ways that people struggle with Bonhoeffer just as he struggled with the difficult issues of his own time. Those wide-ranging reactions to him are something that make Bonhoeffer even more interesting to me than he already is on his own.

Learn more about the St. Stephen’s Martyrs and how to find them here.

Lent Madness: Bonhoeffer’s in the Faithful Four!

Today in Lent Madness, the 20th-century martyr and pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer goes against the 19th-century saint and queen Emma of Hawaii in the last match of the Faithful Four. Whoever wins this vote will face the Apostle to the Apostles, Mary Magdalene, in the final round on Wednesday for this year’s Golden Halo.

This is what I wrote for the Lent Madness website on behalf of Bonhoeffer for the semi-final round (and you can vote for him by clicking on the link at the end):

Easter Monday will mark the sixty-seventh anniversary of the execution of Dietrich Bonhoeffer at the Flossenbürg concentration camp in Nazi Germany and of his last words: “This is the end – for me the beginning of life.” Those words, it seems to me, testify to the Easter faith that will be proclaimed this weekend throughout the world. In proximity to human suffering on a scale that is unimaginable to most of us, Bonhoeffer was able to declare that the ultimate word, a word of life, belongs to God.

The St. Stephen’s Martyrs – a group of men at my church – gather weekly for an hour or so of theology and a pint or so of beer. About a year ago we talked about the Holocaust. While having that discussion, there were related artifacts, Nazi and otherwise, in the middle of the table. It’s one thing to see those objects in old black and white news reels and quite another to see them in living color as we wrestled with suffering, revenge, justice, doubt, and – yes – faith, too. I can’t imagine how much harder it must have been for Bonhoeffer and others as they together wrestled not with relics but with realities. These were imperfect people, including Bonhoeffer, making imperfect decisions that they would have to live with for the rest of their lives.

Would we have returned home to Germany rather than stay in the United States? Would we have supported an underground seminary for the Confessing Church? Would we have chosen to jam the wheel of injustice by helping the conspiracy to assassinate the Nazi Führer Adolf Hitler?

Bonhoeffer made a decision, as a result of his faith in Christ, to stand with his own people and with the innocent in the midst of their experience of Good Friday. That, I think, was his most important and courageous decision.

Here’s a final endorsement from a higher authority in the Anglican Communion. Soon after the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, announced that he would be resigning his position at the end of this year, he was interviewed about his various roles and secularism and faith by a parish priest in the Church of England. Archbishop Williams was asked, as the final question, with whom he would like to have dinner if he could sit down with anyone who has lived over the last hundred years. He answered,

“Dietrich Bonhoeffer.”

The Archbishop of Canterbury has cast his vote. Now it’s your turn.

Palm Sunday: Hosanna! Ride On, King Jesus!

Anne Lamott: Young Kids, Cherry Pie, and Jesus

Earlier this week my wife Carrie had the opportunity to listen to Anne Lamott, author of Traveling Mercies and other books, at Barnes & Noble in Edina. Carrie recorded a short video of that conversation, which included this wonderful story:

From the flea market . . . I could hear this music wafting out of this ramshackled church with this one cruddy, “Waiting for Godot,” tree in front of it. And, you know, there’s an acronym for God that it’s the gift of desperation. And because I had no more good ideas, I hear this music, and it was like in the cartoons when the wife . . . bakes a cherry pie and puts it on the sill, and then [the] . . . aromatic cherry pie smell comes around, walking, walking, walking, and it taps [the husband] on the chest, right? And then he wakes up, and he follows it, and then he eats it, and then he gets in trouble, very comical, the angry wife, right? So that was how Jesus brought me. It was like a smell, an aroma of something baking that I could smell. And I got up and kind of walked, walked over. And I sat down in this church . . .

And then I started going. And then, as I wrote about in Traveling Mercies, I just felt like Jesus – I just felt like he was going to get me . . .

I got sober, and then I got baptized . . .

So that’s my church and that’s my Jesus.

The most exciting part of that day, however, came in the morning, when Anne Lamott was interviewed by Minnesota Public Radio’s Kerri Miller and Carrie called to ask a question about Sam, Lamott’s son, and Jax, Lamott’s grandson. You can read that exchange below or listen to it here (beginning at 22:33):

[Kerri Miller:] To the phones, to Carrie in St. Louis Park. . . .

[Carrie Willard:] Thank you, thank you. I’m a huge fan, and I loved Traveling Mercies, and I loved Operating Instructions. And one of my favorite, favorite parts of your books is when you’re talking about taking Sam to church, I think in Traveling Mercies. And I especially appreciate that now. I have two young kids, and my husband’s an Episcopal priest. And so I’m wrestling with these kids in the pews all by myself every Sunday morning, and I think about you all the time. And I’m wondering how that relationship changed as Sam grew up and how you plan to introduce Jax to your faith community, if you do.

[Anne Lamott:] That’s a good question. Thank you. I made Sam come to church till he turned 15, which was longer than the children of most priests and ministers – Episcopal priests and ministers – made their kids go. I felt that – in this world of video games and 24/7 information overload – that there were worse things you could do as a parent than to ask your kid . . . to come and sit with the revered tribal elders and to practice being quiet and to practice being polite and to practice getting out of yourself to become a person for others and to learn that there is something bigger and lovelier that you can hook into when you come to a community. . . . I bring Jax to church with me every single Sunday. . . . Jax has three little colleagues. I call them the colleagues. They’re all three years old – Cooper, Isaiah, and Zeke – and Jax loves it.

Earl Scruggs: Rest in Peace, and Rise in Glory

Yesterday I had the pleasure of hearing my colleague from St. Stephen’s Church, the Rev. Nancy Brantingham, offer a mid-day reflection on vocation to students and a few faculty at the University of St. Thomas School of Law in downtown Minneapolis. She reminded them that all of us, not just members of the clergy, have a vocation  – a calling – and that it’s the work that we can’t not do.

Nancy happened to give her talk on the same day that Earl Scruggs, the most famous banjo player in the world, died at the age of 88. He was raised on a farm in North Carolina during the Great Depression. When he was only 4 years old, his father died, and Earl started playing the banjo. At the age of 10, he figured out the three-finger style of picking that had already existed in North Carolina.

It was Earl, however, who perfected and popularized that “new” technique that would come to be known as “Scruggs-Style Picking.” The banjo had been reborn.

This man knew his vocation, his calling, as did the world.

Lent Madness: Thomas Cranmer Goes Negative

As soon as I walked away from the Lent Madness campaign for Thomas Cranmer, architect of the English Reformation, to devote myself wholeheartedly to the cause of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, pastor and martyr in Nazi Germany, the political action committees sprang into action with their negative ads.

On Friday, March 30, Thomas Cranmer will face Emma of Hawaii in the so-called “Elate Eight” round of Lent Madness. Be forewarned that the current round has a focus on saintly kitsch, so keep a sense of humor and remember that there have already been serious biographies and quotes from each saint in earlier rounds.

That’s the background for these “political” ads. However, I do have to admit that, regardless of my own personal feelings about the influence of political action committees, the third one is pretty good. It does make me think about the goodly heritage that some of us enjoy as Anglican/Episcopalian Christians.