Communications from the Bishop

A Letter from Bishop Hollingsworth: 10th Anniversary of 9/11

September 6, 2011

September 5, 2011

It has been observed repeatedly and accurately that September 11, 2001, changed America and Americans forever. Whether it has changed us for the better or for the worse is a good question. No doubt, over the last decade it has done both, and it continues to do so. While our openness to other cultures and others’ perception of us and our actions as a nation has surely increased, likewise has our suspicion of others and the isolation that comes with self-protection. Some people of faith have been challenged to learn more about the religious beliefs and practices of others, while others have used their own to qualify and judge those who believe differently.

At the same time, of course, God’s spirit of holiness continues to change us, challenging our capacity to be reconciled to such acts of violence and terror and our ability to make room in our hearts and lives for those whose differences most threaten us. In that ongoing spiritual maturation, it is important that we understand that forgiving is not the same thing as condoning, and reconciliation does not mean the abandonment of accountability. Reconciliation and forgiveness require both accountability and acceptance, and, for people of faith, the spiritual discipline of putting God’s perspective above our own.

One of the most useful vehicles we are given to aid us in that endeavor is prayer. To that end, I share with you the attached litany for your daily personal prayer or congregational worship next Sunday, September 11, adapted by the Rev. Paul Gaston for Christ Church, Hudson, from the World Council of Churches’ “prayer for the people of Norway and for all victims of violence and terror.” (A link to the original source is listed at the end of the document.)

As we mark the 10^th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on New York’s World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the White House, I give thanks for all that you do, day in and day out, “to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.”

Gratefully,

Bishop of Ohio

Message from Bishop Hollingsworth - April 2011

April 18, 2011

An Easter Message from Bishop Hollingsworth

April 18, 2011

Last week the willow trees across the diocese reached what I consider to be their most beautiful color, the light green that comes when their leaves are just beginning to emerge. It only lasts for a few days, at most. When they foliate more fully, the color darkens, but for just a short time they radiate a gentle green that is unique to them. It is my favorite color in nature, and I delight every year when it briefly makes its appearance and signals the new life that will soon spring up in daffodils and forsythia, pussy willows and crocuses. At this latitude of the northern hemisphere, the weeping willow and the cycle of nature in general support our anticipation of the Easter event; they make it easy to think of newness and resurrection, they provide a comforting and comfortable image of life after death. In some ways it seems as if the seasonal cycle of the natural world obliges us with an Eastertide spiritual aid in “sense-surround.” It provides for us a relatively uncomplicated connection to the Resurrection, the way Easter eggs and baby chicks do.

But what about Sendai Province and Haiti—where are the signs of new life there? What about Afghanistan and Gaza—how do we understand resurrection in such war zones? In countless public school classrooms across a state facing an eight billion dollar deficit, and in foreclosed neighborhoods and shuttered factories from Youngstown to Toledo, what does the empty tomb of Jesus mean in these places? What weight does Mary Magdalene’s claim “I have seen the Lord” carry in these situations? Is there something beyond the willow’s verdant hue and the altar’s lilies that speaks out of the harsher realities of life, and speaks to the harder experiences of living?

Of course there is. God’s loving response to the painful suffering of life and the difficult losses we face is as faithful as the returning blossoms of spring. It is you. When you speak truth to power, you are the risen Christ. When you attend to the injured and the ailing, you are the risen Christ. When you advocate for and sacrifice on behalf of the one who has less, you are the risen Christ. When you place your cloak around the shoulders of the one in need, you are the risen Christ. When you offer God’s love in the places where it is yearned for but not easily recognized, you are the risen Christ.

You are the willow’s green and the forsythia’s bloom, the lily’s splendor and the empty tomb. You are the light of Christ. Thanks be to God.

Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.

The Rt. Rev. Mark Hollingsworth, Jr.
Bishop of Ohio