The Celebration of a New Ministry

Two days ago, on Saturday August 18, I was instituted as the 25th Rector of Christ Church in Mexico City.  It was a beautiful, inspiring, and deeply moving occasion. 

The Bishop of the Diocese of Mexico, the Most Rev. Carlos Touché Porter, who is also the Primate of the Anglican Church of Mexico, was the presider. 

The Rev. Tamara Newell, left, the first woman ordained in the Anglican Church in Mexico was the preacher.  She did a splendid job, using the story of Moses and the seventy elders to talk about the work of God's Spirit in the community.  To her left is my good friend and colleague, The Rev. Guillermo Salinas, who is Priest Associate at Christ Church and is also a medical doctor. 

There were a number of other clergy present from the Anglican Church of Mexico.  Also in attendance were ecumenical clergy, including the proto-presbyter of the Greek Orthodox Cathedral in Mexico City, seen here at the far left, and clergy of the Lutheran Church (also representing the Latin American Council of Churches), the Salvation Army, and the Mormon Church. 

The heart of the service, however, is the presentation of the symbols of office to the new rector.  Here, two of my colleagues, the Rev. Andrés Solis of the Cathedral of San José de Gracia and The Rev. Xavier Ocampo, Vicar of Santa Cruz, present me with the Canons of the Anglican Church of Mexico.  

I was also officially presented with the keys to the Church by the Wardens.

Presentations of the bread and wine, the Bible, the Prayerbook, and oil for anointing also took place.  Since part of the congregation is Spanish-speaking, and part is English-speaking, representatives of each group participated in their own native language. 

At the end of the presentations, also called the Service of Induction, the Bishop invites the congregation to "Greet your New Rector."  Susan was also introduced at this time.



Afterwards, there was a lavish reception, with, naturally a sheet cake. 



Another Country

I vow to thee, my country—all earthly things above—
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

And there’s another country, I’ve heard of long ago—
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.

The lyrics to the hymn above were written by Cecil Spring-Rice, born in England. who served in his country's foreign service in Russia, Persia, Sweden, and the US.  He died in Canada in 1918.  The lyrics are set to the tune Thaxted, a lovely but rather difficult to sing melody from Gustav Holst.  Nonetheless, this hymn contains what is is probably the best and most theologically accurate description of the nature of Christian patriotism: our wholehearted love of our own country is superceded by our love for and loyalty to another country, the heavenly country where we hold our eternal citizenship.

We sang the above hymn this morning in church, and I found myself profoundly as I looked around at the congregation, and thought about the nature of  'country' and what it means to the members of this parish, who gather together from the US, the UK, Canada, Nigeria, Germany, the Netherlands and, of course, Mexico.  As challenging as the melody is to sing, the members of Christ Church lifted their voices with gusto -- I think they understand deeply and intrisically, perhaps better than any group of people I've ever known, the complex nature of patriotism.  Many either have grown up in one country but live now in another, are bi- or tri- lingual, or are members of the expatriate community and identify strongly with both Mexico and another nation. They know better than others what it means to be a citizen of an earthly country and a citizen of a heavenly country.

Today is a national day here -- it is election day in Mexico -- some members came to church with their thumbs colored by the indelible ink that is used to identify those who have voted (this, evidently, is meant to prevent electoral fraud.)  It is also Canada Day, and, of course, Independence Day weekend in the country of my birth and citizenship, the US.  At the close of the service, then, after vowing our love to our home country and our heavenly country, we sang the Star-Spangled Banner -- led by our choir which is comprised almost entirely of Mexican citizens -- and then O Canada. 

God, grant that I might be a good citizen. 

Hail and Farewell at St. Andrew's

St. Andrew's, or San Andres,  is located in the southern part of Mexico City.  On the one campus is located St. Andrew's Seminary for the Anglican Church of Mexico, the Offices of the Diocese of Mexico, the Offices of the Anglican Church of Mexico, a retreat and conference center, and the residence of the Bishop. 

The Seminary chapel is a modern building, a church-in-the-round of the style that was popular about 30 or so years ago when it was built. 

Yesterday the Clericus, which is the monthly meeting of Anglican clergy of the diocese, met there 

for our regularly scheduled gathering.  It was no ordinary gathering, but the farewell to a beloved colleague, the Rector of the other English-speaking parish in the Diocese, whose church is about 4 hours from Mexico City in the town of San Miguel de Allende.  Since it was the first time I had met him, it was a 'hail and farewell' as they say.  Although there are a number of English-speaking parishes scattered throughout Mexico, with his departure and the retirement of teh rector of St. Michael's in Cuernavaca, I remain the only Rector of an English-speaking parish remaining in this part of the country.  Fortunately, I am not the only English speaking Anglican priest -- a number of my colleagues speak fair to excellent English, and one has even studied in the UK. 

I loved worshipping in this modern building -- the altar is in the very center of the round building, set up on a dais, so that when communion is served, the whole congregation gathers in a circle around the altar to receive the sacrament.  It felt like being a part of the family at the family table.  Since the building is constructed of stone and tile, the acoustics are marvelous, and even though we were only about 25 in number, the building resounded when we sang.  Although the interior is relatively plain, it did not have the feeling of being cold or severe that so many modern church buildings have. 

We gathered for Eucharist to begin the day.

At the conclusion of the service, those celebrating anniversaries of ordination were called to the front of the chapel for a prayer, and a gift was presented to the parting priest.

I often have to pause to remember the still rather startling reality that I am now a priest of the Anglican Church of Mexico, rather than of the Episcopal Church in the US.  Inspiring events like this one at St. Andrew's remind me of that reality, and the more important reality that I am not alone in this work, but joined by a cohort of devoted and talented clergy. 

MORE Diamond Jubilee

As as said, the celebration goes on ... or rather, went on. 

Saturday of the Jubilee weekend, I was invited to the celebration of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee hsoted by the British Society of Mexico City, which was held at the Club Industrial -- a private club for the business elite of the Federal District.  There were about 150 people present. 

The guest of honor was H.E. Judith MacGregor, the British Ambassador to Mexico.  Here she is being escorted into the dining room by a bagpiper of St. Patrick's Battalion.  Beside here is her husband (wearing clan MacGregor tartan, or course.)

Of course the Rector of the Anglican Parish gave the grace (that would be me), first saying the official jubilee prayer.  The Ambassador led the assembled group in two toasts -- one for the queen and the other for Mexico.  Somehow I found it very moving that folks recognized both their native land and their adopted homeland, joining in saying Viva Mexico!

I felt very proud that Christ Church's choir concluded the event with a presentation that included two of Handel's Coronation Anthems, plus traditional and folk music of all of the British Isles.  Selections included The Londonderry Air (popularly known as O Danny Boy) and Rule Brittania!   I was moved to tears when they sang A Celtic Blessing.

Lunch was -- of all things -- quail!  I guess the menu was chosen to be suggestive of hunting game out on the moors or something. 

Truly, I am grateful for so many opportunities to meet so many fascinating people.  It is a gift. 

Diamond Jubilee

In my nearly 25 years as a priest of the Church, I have done many different tasks, worshipped in a variety of ways, and joined in singing many different types of music.  But Sunday was a real first for me.  First time I prayed for the Queen of England.  First time I sang God Save the Queen.  First time I read a reminder for Sunday services that bore the instructions: "Ladies, please don your hats."  They did.  And I did.  (not don a hat, but I sang God Save the Queen and prayed for Her Majesty.  In this international and multi-cultural setting, particularly with a (relatively) large number of British worshipping with us, it made sense to acknowledge the extraordinary 60 years of the world's longest reigning monarch.  Especially since she is an Anglican lay woman who has been involved in the appointment of bishops, and been present to inaugurate  innumerable church-affiliated schools and hospitals over the years. 

Since it was a special Sunday, we had not only our usual cadre of acolytes, one of the faithful took the role of verger to lead the processeion in front of the crucifer.  He looked very dapper, and, for some reason, I thought, very British.  The choir sang the Coronation Anthem  from Handel's Oratorio Zadok the Priest. And they led the singing of the National Anthem of the United Kingdom (God Save the Queen). 

After church at coffee hour there was sparkling wine and cake filled with marzipan and frosted with (what else?) royal icing.  It was a very festive day, and not only our own members from the UK and the commonwealth were present, but also a few special guests from the diplomatic community, including the Jamaican Ambassador, and representatives from the British and the Australian embassies. 

Here is a member of the parish with Justin MacKenzie, a representative of the British Ambassador. 

And here is another parishioner with H.E. Delrose Montague, Ambassador from Jamaica. 

As it seems to be in England, the celebration goes on and on...The British Community here in Mexico City will be having several events to mark this momentous occasion.  There are at least two more this week.  Vivat Regina!

Memorial Day in Mexico City

Over the years I've been invited to participate in a number of Memorial Day observances -- to say the invocation in the park or the benediction at the cemetery.  But in all the years I've been a priest i have never (I'm ashamed to say) willingly chosen to attend a Memorial Day Observance.  Being here in Mexico City, far from the traditions of home, family, and culture, I feel differently.  When I received an email from a local charity with the reminder of the Memorial Day observance at the American Military Cemetery, something strange happened to me.  I wanted to go.  Something about a slice of home, nostalgia, whatever... I just had to take time to attend.  I couldn't let Memorial Day be just another ordinary workday.  Plus I felt the need to acknowledge my connection with the American expatriate community, especially since I knew I would be making a special connection with the British expatriate community over the weekend of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.

The Cemetery is in a rather obscure commercial neighborhood not so far outside of the center of the city.  I say it's obscure, because when I caught a taxi from the Metro station nearest to the cemetery, the driver told me there was no American Cemetery nearby.  (Mexican cab drivers are NOT like cab drivers in NYC who know the city.  In fact, some of them are downright clueless -- they would have to be for ME to be giving them directions!)  Anyway, I arrived at the ceremony about 20 minutes late, in a foul mood, which immediately lifted when I looked around to see the gorgeously beautiful setting.  It was like a small but lush tropical garden.

ABMC -- "Ameican Battle Monuments Commission" -- refers to some kind of US Federal or Military Agency that administers this property.  I think this cemetery might have actually been founded as a place to bury the war dead from the Mexican-American War of 1848 (still a bit of a sore point here -- after all Mexico lost about one-third of its territoy to the US in that conflict). 

There were approximately 200 people at the Memorial Day Ceremony -- this included representatives from the British Foreign Legion and the Mexican Veterans Association as well -- a point which I actually found very moving.  I want to find out more about how the Mexican
Air Force assisted the US war effort during World War II, as some of the elderly Mexican veterans present were involved in that. 

Although the ceremony was a very typical Memorial day observance with all of the usual ritual -- of course at the same time it was UNtypical, because of the location. 

The address was given by the US Embassador to Mexico, H.E. Earl Anthony Wayne, who focused on the role that cooperation between nations plays in securing a free and democratic world.  It was quite well done, and hearing it made me even more glad I had made the effort to attend. 

I was also glad that I ran into some members of Christ Church -- some embassy people, some not -- who were present for the day's event. 

Sunday in the Park...with Frank

Sunday after Church I was tired...but decided that since it was a gorgeous summer day I couldn't stay inside and nap.  So I decided to explore a part of the city I had never seen before.  Condesa,  which is Spanish for "Countess" is a neighborhood between Lomas de Chapultepec where I live and the historic center downtown. 

The older section of the neighborhood is centered around a four- or five- block long oval shaped park that began its life as a horse racing track.  The exterior of the track was preserved and is currently a city Avenue, the interior of the track is a charming tropical park. 

The park was what I think of as a typical urban park -- full of families with small children, skateboarders, bicyclists, vendors selling food, clothing, jewelry, balloons, and toys.  There were also stands where children could paint and decorate ceramic or wooden plaques in the shape of popular cartoon characters.   And there were SO MANY dogs -- most were small like chihuahuas and pekinese, and not all were on leashes.  And of course there were musicians, too, and street preachers. 

Since the neighborhood was developed  mostly in the 1920's, most of the buildings were designed in the architectural style popular at the time -- art deco.  Eventually the area fell into disuse and disrepair, and so it was neglected and never redeveloped.  The happy result, of this is that many of the original buildings and monuments have remained.  Now that Condesa is once again becoming a fashionable and desirable neighborhood, the art deco style is being preserved.  Mexicans, it seems to me, have a real appreciation for art and architecture. 

This clock tower is a particularly good example of art deco design.  Here is a view of one of the neighborhood streets, with more art deco design.