Bird by bird

Again, I have been remiss in my posting. But no longer (I swear)! Today's post title refers to an Anne Lamott book on writing, and not only am I going to go back and re-read that book, but I'm taking some of her advice and disciplining myself to write every day. So, this blog will hopefully really start getting some good posts. Fear not, dear subscribers, I will not be necessarily writing on this blog quite that often, but splitting my words between here and my blog at Everyday Citizen, to whom I promised lots of entries with my loads of summer free time...and who have also been neglected. I also have tentative plans to begin a second blog focused solely on my art adventures as those develop. Stay tuned for more on that as it comes to fruition!

Now, due to the discipline of writing daily, my posts may sometimes (often?) be shorter and less substantial. But they will be something, anyway, and I hope with time they will just get better and better, and lead us all to deeper reflection on faith, social justice, and life's crazy moments!

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Step by Step

Little by little, I take steps that will eventually lead to my becoming a pastor. Some are important to the official process: putting together my profile, taking psychological exams, writing my ordination paper (none of which are done yet). Others are smaller, but no less significant.

Yesterday, I ordered this robe. I plan on putting my name on the New Hampshire pulpit supply list, and felt that wearing a robe will help both me and the congregations recognize my authority as a seminary graduate and planning- to- be- but- not-yet-Rev.

It felt like a big step. And I'm sure the first time I wear it will feel quite significant. This coming Sunday, I will be leading worship at the Community Church of Hudson, the church in which I grew up. It will mark the first time most of the congregants will have heard me preach. It would be great if my robe arrives in time to wear it for that service, although I preached at Broadway UCC in New York without one, and it didn't seem to bother anyone one bit--I got a lot of compliments on my sermon!

Step by step, though, is how it needs to be done. I've realized that I will not just wake up one day and be (and feel like) a pastor. But if I take it step by step, I will become. It will also feel a whole heck of a lot less intimidating!

We have become an instant-response culture. We want dinner in less than 30 min, super-high-speed internet access, 'round the clock news access and updates, firming creams that take away wrinkles overnight, etc. The natural world, however--of which we often forget we are a part--seldom works that way.

I planted a garden about two weeks ago. Peppers, tomatoes, beans, squash, watermelon, basil, rosemary. With the exception of the beans, everything was planted as a seedling. I've noticed my impatience with the growth. I just started getting flowers on one of the larger tomato plants. A couple days ago, my beans started breaking through the soil. While it's certainly progress, I've had to train myself to remember they won't grow overnight. It's not an instantaneous process. At first, I was checking the plants like I check my e-mail: several times a day!

Now, although I often look over at them from the deck, look for evidence of leaves being munched on, and check for weeds, I realize that each plant grows at its own pace, and takes the time it needs to complete its "steps" for successful growth. Even before they were planted, the ground had to be prepared, and nutrients were added with compost that had been over a year in the making. Then each one needs to send out strong roots into that soil before it can spend energy going up. When it does start going up, it needs to make sure it has strong stems and leaves to give structure and get nutrients from the sun. Then (in most cases), the flowers come out and often need the help of bees to pollinate. Only then can the plant begin sending its energy into producing fruit. Each step builds upon the previous one--and they don't all happen at once.

This is something I need to remind myself. Build my steps one by one so that they can be built upon each other. If I attempt to produce fruit without having allowed my roots to take hold, I won't get any nutrients. If I get some fruit grown without a good support structure, I'll just fall over. One thing at a time. Bird by bird, as author Anne Lamott says.

That's my mantra for the summer, I think. Bird by bird. Bird by bird. Bird by bird. Or maybe, bean by bean...

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Back in NH

Bad, bad blogger. It's been quite a while since I've written, and I apologize, because I'm not coming back with anything really pithy. Just a hi, hello, and update on why it's been so long!

Since my last post, I wrote two final papers, graduated with my M.Div, won a preaching award, wrote and preached my first Sunday sermon, packed up a ridiculous amount of crap, moved from NYC to New Hampshire (taking out the passenger-side mirror of the U-Haul in the process), and given my sister a baby shower (with the help of The Moms). Oh, and worked on a home-improvement project which has delayed me actually unpacking. Sigh...

So now that I'm in summer mode and unemployed, I will hopefully have lots of time to blog here and at http://www.everydaycitizen.com/, in between more home improvement, gardening, looking for a job, and just generally vegging out. Fun!

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Feminist Pastor Top Ten

The following is a sermon/ search committee piece I wrote as a final project for my feminist/womanist preaching class. I don't know that I'd actually be brave enough to preach it before being hired...but I wanted to share!

Not too long ago, I was describing part of my thesis project to a colleague
after a conversation about the search and call process. “It’s a prayer shawl,” I
told him, “with the names and images of the women I consider to be my saints,
the cloud of witnesses that surround me.”

“Whoa,” he replied.
“You’re going to have to tone down that crazy feminist stuff when you meet with
search committees.”

Now, truth be told, I don’t consider myself a
“crazy” feminist. I am a feminist, yes, in that I feel that men and women are
equal and deserve to be treated as such. Perhaps I am a strong feminist, in that
I believe that men are not the “default” humans, with women being an
afterthought. I believe influential women should be celebrated in the same way
influential men have been for millennia. I also believe that women have the same
access to God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit that men do, and the same ability to
share that with a parish community. If that makes me a “crazy feminist,” then I
will proudly claim that title.

So, in honor of that, here are my
top ten reasons I won’t tone down my “crazy feminism:”

10. Because I grew up going to Sunday school and learning about the men in the Bible, but not the women. The women are there and are important, and I want to be sure that children being raised in the church today know about them. They should not only know Moses, Abraham, Paul, Samuel, Jonah, Peter, and Noah, but Deborah, Miriam, Phoebe, Martha, Hagar, Ruth and Rebekah. Most kids in Sunday school know about David and Goliath, or Daniel in the lion’s den, but do they know about Esther saving her people, or Rachel and the idols? These women are in our sacred texts—shouldn’t our children know about them? Shouldn’t we?

9. Because I want the young women and the young men growing up in the body of Christ to know that they are all equally part of that body—with equal benefit and responsibility. It does a disservice to both genders when the Church says otherwise. Let us look at the Bible, particularly at the first chapter of Acts, where it lists the names of the Apostles who went to the room upstairs in
Jerusalem, and says, “all these were constantly gathered in prayer, together
with certain women.” It certainly seems to me like women were an important and
included part of that very early Church. And like then, today we need all the
ministers—in all areas of ministry—that we can get. So why should we discount
half the population?

8. Because I don’t believe my “crazy feminist”
message is just for young radicals, but for my mother’s and grandmother’s generations as well. When I make sure women’s stories are more often present in Scripture readings, sermons, and Bible studies, I do it not just so the next generation can grow up knowing differently than I did, but also to affirm the older women as well. Maybe they’ll just think, “Well, then, she’s just saying
what I knew all along.” But perhaps there will be some who will think, “Wow, I
never thought about it things that way before, and it speaks to me.” Hopefully
there will be some older men who feel that way too!

7. Because male pastors aren’t expected to suppress their gender identities.

6. Because we are living in a post-women’s movement society, and our churches are steadily declining in membership. What do those things have to do with each other? Many of the people who aren’t coming to church feel like their
progressive beliefs—like feminism—don’t fit with Christianity. I want to
evangelize that you can be a feminist and a Christian! In order to do that,
however, I need to not only be able to tell the feminists in society that I go
to church, but tell the church I’m a feminist. Both of those are risky, and I
fully acknowledge that. I also believe that being a Christian and following
Jesus’ teachings means taking risks.

5. Because too many women before me have struggled too hard for me to stand aside quietly. In 1853, Antoinette Brown became the first woman ordained in the United States, in a Congregational church, one of the root traditions of our own UCC. She couldn’t vote or own property, but the church acknowledged her calling to preach. However, women still make up less than 40% of ordained clergy in our
denomination, and in my conversations with female clergy, it is still a struggle
to be a woman in this profession. For them, for the women who came before me,
and for the women who come after me, I speak my truth.

4. Because
when you Google “feminist pastor,” most of what comes up is highly anti-feminist Christian rhetoric. Websites and pastors that claim feminism is evil, of the Devil, and the main problem for all of societies current ills—and I am in no
way exaggerating—all fall under the guise of providing the true Christian
message. Women who do not stay at home to care for the children and obey their
husbands are defying God. They want authority over men, which is just like
Lucifer wanting authority over God! I really wish I were making this up, but I’m
not. By claiming the term feminist, I am not claiming to be anti-male, or
wanting to be somehow “above” men, switching our society from patriarchy (where
men have the authority) to matriarchy (where women have the authority). I simply
want equality—and not a “separate but equal women and men have complementary
God-ordained roles” equality. And here’s one big reason why:

3. Because putting women in a box puts men in a box too. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve spoken to male friends who were putting off marriage simply because they didn’t yet have a job that paid well enough to support anyone else. They were taught that men are the providers, and if they couldn’t live into that yet,
then they would wait. I think this is where some of the fear comes in about
feminism, and that includes in the Christian world. If women are strong, acting
as leaders, providing for themselves, not needing to be taken care of, where
does that leave the men? In working with others to expand our language for God
(more on that in a minute), I often hear that in order to include women, we
should name the “feminine” qualities of God—“broods like a mother hen,” nurtures
us as a mother, etc. If we keep God the Father as disciplinarian and not
nurturing, we are telling men to be the same way. By embracing my feminism and
asking that women not be put into a box of being the nurturing ones whose core
strength is in how she cares for others, I’m also asking that men be allowed to
step out of the box of always having to be strong, un-emotional providers. This
should not be an either/or situation for either gender. Men and women can be
BOTH strong AND nurturing.

2. Because God is not a boy’s name. This is a sticky one for many people. The Bible uses the term Father for God—Jesus himself calls God Abba, “Daddy.” All the pronouns associated with God in the Bible are male. People may say that using female language is heresy. That being said, I believe it is heresy to claim that our limited human language could possibly every fully describe God. Think about how hard it is to describe the things and people that surround us just using language. Why do you think so many people talk with their hands? Now think about the awesome and immeasurable quality of the Divine. I think it’s a little presumptuous to say that just a few of our words—God, Lord, Father—can describe all that. So in my crazy feminism, I say that yes, we should attempt to expand our concept and language of God, but this is not simply by throwing in some “Mother’s” and “she’s.” We should really expand our language and think of the Triune God as Fire, Flame, and Light. God as the Holy Painter of Sunsets. Christ as Rescuer in Times of Trouble. Holy
Spirit as Laughing Wind of the Divine. You get the idea.

And, the
number one reason I won’t back down from my crazy feminism:

Because I believe in living authentically. I mean to ask that from
my parishioners, and I would hope you would want nothing less from me. If I come in here pretending to be something I’m not, what sort of example am I setting? Not only that, how are we supposed to clearly discern whether I am being called to this community if I am not expressing my true self? Part of that true self is
feminist, and I hope I would not have to “tone that down” to live out God’s
calling for my life.


Now that I’ve completely terrified most of you, I want to simply state that my saying all this does not mean that I plan on entering any church community and force beliefs or changes on anyone. I’m not going to go through everything and state that you may never again use the word “Father” for God. I’m not going to look down on you if you disagree with me. I will, however, ask that you join me on a journey to deepen our
relationships with God, and to wrestle with what it means to be Christians. I
will ask that you explore this and other uncomfortable places with me, and maybe
open up some doors that have been shut tight. If you can only be comfortable
cracking it open and taking a peek before slamming it shut again, that’s ok. If
you’re ready to walk out flinging the doors wide open, that’s fine too. And
balancing those two perspectives is part of how we live –and love—together in
Christian community.

May God bless all of us with discernment on our journeys in Christ.

[Note: This list was apparently part of the reason that at gradutation, I was awarded the Karen Ziegler Feminist Preaching Prize. Whoo hoo!]

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This is the Day That the Lord Has Made!

And I am certainly rejoicing! I'm singing praise and making joyful noise and all that! Why? It's early April in NYC and 70 degrees with cloudless blue skies. I was accepted In Care to my local UCC Association, which means I can proceed with ordination/call steps. And, above all...

It's my birthday!! So happy birthday to me, and thanks to God (and my parents) for my life and all the joy and blessings with which it is filled. My cup certainly runneth over!

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Named or Un-named, We Remember

I can't seem to stop thinking about her, this woman whose name I don't know.

On Friday, while leaving a friend's apartment, I was stopped in my tracks by an unmistakeable sound: that of someone being hit.

A man yelled in Spanish, each phrase punctuated by that horrible sound. I heard her voice yell back once. His reply was that sound. As I came to myself enough to move away down the stairs, not wanting to be discovered just standing there listening, I heard him yell some more, "Que te dijo? Que te dijo?!" What did I tell you, what did I tell you.

I didn't know what to do. I felt conflicted. It was not my building, not my neighbor, not my business. And yet, I'm a Christian, and a woman. That woman being hit was my neighbor, my sister. I thought about what would happen if I called the police. What would I tell them? Someone was being hit, in some apartment in this building? When I told my friend what I'd heard, he replied, "Welcome to the neighborhood."

And so we fulfill the stereotype of a poor urban neighborhood made up of people of color. Of course, women who live in these places are not the only ones abused by their partners and family members, not by a long shot. But I think about how easily I heard it. Where I grew up, there's at least a little space between houses. While I'm sure my neighbors caught an earful when arguments between my father and me spilled outside, if there had been abuse going on inside, they probably wouldn't have heard. What must it be like to be the neighbors of that woman and others, of the children who are beaten, to hear that?

My contact lasted less than a minute, but reached my soul. What is it like to be exposed to violence--especially intimate violence--as a bystander, over and over? Does one just get used to it, not hear it anymore? Or does it create a dark place in the soul?

Over the last couple days I've held this woman in my thoughts and prayers, and I've come to a realization. In a womanist/feminist preaching class I'm taking this semester, we talk a lot about the many un-named women in the Bible. We remember their stories, but we'll never know their names. One woman invites her children to give the women names when they read about them.

I will remember this woman, though I will never know her name. And like most of the un-named women of the Bible, I don't really know who she is--just one tiny captured moment of her life is all I've got. But I won't forget. In my mind, her name is Luz--Light. I pray for her, for those who love her, for he that hits her, and for all those who are victims of intimate violence--through first-hand experience or second-hand awareness. I pray.

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I'm back! ( and with stole pictures!)

Wowza has it been a long time since I posted. This is what happens when one has to make 7 stoles and write an accompanying paper in less than two months. But it's done and so I'm back to real life, which includes blogging (and, unfortunately, regular homework).

I know that some of you have been anxious to see the finished product of my senior thesis project. For those who are unaware of what I did, the official title was "Woman of the Cloth: Quilting a Calendar of Stoles," and I designed and made 6 stoles and a prayer shawl based on the Christian liturgical calendar. It was an amazing experience, and I showed them last night and got a fantastic response. We also performed a ritual of blessing (which I wrote), which was more powerful and moving than I even expected.

So below is my artist's statement and pictures of the stoles, as displayed during the show apologies to those with slower connections; this one's gonna take a while, alongside the blessing bestowed upon them, which were read by 7 different people (bold indicates response by all gathered). Apologies to those with slower connections that this will take a while; also apologies that the pictures may not be super-clear since I made them smaller for posting.

There were moments while I was doing this project when I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. “I’m not a quilt artist, or even a Quilter!” I’d tell myself. I would look at pictures of other stoles and condemn myself for not being nearly as creative or artistic or professional as their creators. And yet I persevered, and ended up with six stoles and a prayer shawl that I am proud of. I took risks as an artist, reaching into the unknown and allowing myself to say, “let’s just see what happens”—and figuring out how to deal with mistakes. While many times I felt that if I had more time, I might have done something more elaborate, or added something, or changed a design, I also appreciate that the time constraints forced me to make decisions and stick with them, seeing them through. I couldn’t continually second guess myself. I had to say, at some moments, “it’s good enough.” This goes against my perfectionist tendencies, which I think many times get in way of my creative abilities, and so I consider it a blessing.

For each season or special day, I bathed myself in the sensations that surround it. I read the Lectionary texts and paid attention to what stood out to me. For those seasons I’ve experienced since starting the project, I took notice of the sounds and symbols and words used. I reflected on what I felt mattered in each season. I also prayed about my designs, asking for the Spirit’s help in discerning what to include.

Overall, I am so grateful for having done this project. So many times while working on it, I felt as if I should be doing something “productive” instead, because schoolwork couldn’t be so enjoyable! I also have begun to consider other stoles I might make in the future: a stole made out of jeans to wear during Ordinary Time, an Earth Day stole with recycled items, and an autumn stole full of falling leaves. I have come to the end of this project, perhaps, but like the commencement ceremonies at the end of the school year, I feel that this is not an ending for me, but a beginning.

Advent marks the beginning of a new church year, and a time of journeys. We begin again the journey with our sister Mary to Bethlehem, in expectation and preparation for the birth of Jesus, and we continue the journey to the time when Christ comes again. Let this stole be worn with hope of illumination on the journey. As journeying people, we bless this stole.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill to all people.” In the middle of the night, angels appeared to shepherds and proclaimed the birth of the Anointed one with great joy. Meanwhile, the newborn bringing God’s light into the world slept in very humble accommodations. This is Christmas, a time to proclaim God-with-us in noisy celebration and quiet wonder. Let this stole be worn with both joy and awe at the miracle of God incarnate. As proclaiming people, we bless this stole.

During Lent we take another journey, filled with sorrow. It is dark and somber and painful. Yet in the midst of all this grief, God is always present, a comfort in our most troubling times. Let this stole be worn in the knowledge of the darkness of the world and God’s enduring comfort. As hurting people, we bless this stole.

As dawn breaks on Easter morning, we are reminded again that from the darkness of death springs new life. Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! The cross has been transformed from a mark of humiliation to a symbol of triumph over death. Let this stole be worn with elation at the power of the light of Christ to break through the darkness and sin of the world. As transformed and transforming people, we bless this stole.

As a group gathered on Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended upon them like tongues of flames. We remember this event and celebrate the beginning of the church and the many gifts that have been bestowed upon us. We open ourselves up to the movement and power of the Spirit in our lives. Let this stole be worn in recognition of the power of the Spirit and the special gifts of each person and each community.
As gathered, gifted people, we bless this stole.

Water is a central part of our existence. We begin our lives cushioned by water in our mother’s womb. Much of the earth is made up by water, as are our bodies. We clean, bathe, cook, and play in water. Water plays an important part in many of our tradition’s stories. Unfortunately, not all have access to water as they should, so water also calls us to action against in injustice. For many of us, water recalls our baptisms, and the grace of God. Let this stole be worn in celebration of the life-giving, life-sustaining, and life-renewing energy of water. As refreshed people, we bless this stole.

On All Saints’ Day we remember and celebrate the lives of those who have gone before us. We particularly lift up those women, so often un-recognized and forgotten, in the company of Saints. They have born witness to oppression, injustice, and inequality. We remember those women—those in our church tradition, those in written history, and those in our personal lives—who surround us in a cloud of witnesses and aid us in our own struggles for justice. Let this shawl be worn as a tangible reminder of the communion of holy women, named and unnamed, known and unknown. As witness- bearers, we bless this shawl.

Beth: Let us pray. Spirit of Life, thank you for those gathered in this community tonight, and for the blessings they have laid upon these holy garments. Bless all of us who are gathered in this place, and those who could not be with us. In your holy, loving, sustaining name we pray. Amen.

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The Balm of a Psalm

I have stress in my life. School deadlines loom, coming up, as always, much more quickly than anticipated. Procrastination once agains doles out its consequences. Too many responsibilties leave me wishing for a (healthy) day off from everything.



But today I feel ok, and part of it has to do with Psalm 143, the Psalm for the week in my devotional book:

1 Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness;
answer me in your righteousness.
2 Do not enter into judgment with your
servant, for no one living is righteous before you.
3 For the enemy has
pursued me, crushing my life to the ground, making me sit in darkness like
those
long dead.
4 Therefore my spirit faints within me; my heart within
me is
appalled.
5 I remember the days of old, I think about all your
deeds, I
meditate on the works of your hands.
6 I stretch out my hands
to you; my
soul thirsts for you like a parched land. Selah
7 Answer me
quickly, O Lord;
my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me, or I shall
be like those who go
down to the Pit.
8 Let me hear of your steadfast
love in the morning, for in
you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should
go, for to you I lift up my soul.
9 Save me, O Lord, from my enemies; I have
fled to you for refuge.
10 Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. Let
your good spirit lead me on a
level path.
11 For your name’s sake, O
Lord, preserve my life. In your
righteousness bring me out of trouble.
12 In your steadfast love cut off my
enemies, and destroy all my
adversaries, for I am your servant. (NRSV)

Now, usually I'm not a big fan of this type of Psalm. All the "smiting of enemies" and "destruction of adversaries" doesn't mesh well with my peace-loving and peace-making personality. Today, however, having spent yesterday just trying to breathe deeply to abate my stress and anxiety,
it occured to me who my enemies were. They are not people, they're feelings.

Not all feelings, of course, but those destructive feelings that leave me (and many of us) frozen and feeling awful and vulnerable to illness: Stress, Anxiety, and Helplessness.

So as I read it, every time I saw the word "enemy" or "adversary" I thought "stress." I found myself more and more relaxed and comforted as I went through the verses. Save me from my stress, God. Adonai, rescue me from my anxiety. It just about brought me to tears.

May this Psalm also be a blessing and comfort to you in your times of stress, trouble, and anxiety.

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Look at me--a "real" blogger!

Ok, so the other day I mentioned very quickly being a "founding blogger" at a group site. Well, here's the rest of the info.

The site is Everyday Citizen, and is basically what it sounds like--a site where everyday people blog, mostly about current events, politics, culture, stuff like that.

Today I wrote my very first post for them (gotta love avoiding writing a sermon), and you can find it on my Everyday Citizen "home" page here.

Enjoy! (Oh, and pray for inspiration from the Spirit as I try to move this sermon along. Don't worry, it's not for Sunday!)

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Remember "Polly?"

Ok, this is simply a plug to try to get something I want. When I was a kid, Sunday night, once a month or so, Disney would show these great made-for-TV movies. Michael Eisner was always the host, walking around Disney Land and running into Mickey. My dad was great and taped them for us, and some of them became true favorites, like 1989's "Polly."

Not to be confused with the later theater release featuring a parrot, this was an adaptation of "Pollyanna," featuring an almost exclusively African American cast including Keisha Knight Pulliam as little Polly, and Phylicia Rishad as Aunt Polly. They made it a musical, and it was a huge hit--for Disney and for our family.

However, they've never released it on video or DVD00at least not here in the US (apparently they released it on VHS in the UK--why they felt a story of African Americans set in the South in the 1950s would sell better over there than here, I don't know). And although I've now discovered that I can watch some of my favorite musical scenes on YouTube, it's just not the same.

So here's where you come in: Disney has a site where requests can be made for movies to be released on DVD/video. Here's the one for "Polly." Go and request it, and tell all your friends, neighbors and co-workers to do the same. Post it on Facebook and MySpace. Even if you haven't seen the movie, join the campaign. It's that good, and you won't regret it, I promise.

This movie was far too great a success for them to have waited this long to release it (Keisha is a day older than I am--meaning she was 10 when the movie was premiered). Tell Disney you want "Polly"--and "shine a little light!"

Update: They did make DVDs of both Polly and Polly Comin' Home, available exclusively to Disney Movie Club members. I joined just for these movies, which I have since given as gifts to my two sisters but have yet to purchase for myself. Go figure.

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Just a quick check in

I am a bad, bad blogger. It's been almost a month since my last post...and this one won't be really of any significance. I apologize. It is my last semester of seminary, I just got a new second job, have a final 15-20 page paper due in about 2 weeks that I haven't even chosen a topic for, nevermind starting, and my senior project is due April 1. Yikes. But I'm trying to breathe deeply and take everything one step at a time.

So I just wanted to check in, and hopefully soon I will post something deep and meaningful. I will tell you about the new group site where I'm a "founding blogger" (although they haven't gotten a post from me yet either). And I will talk a little about my Lenten journey.

Until then, blessed be!

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50 Books in 2008

Ok, so I'm a little late getting to New Year's resolutions. I don't like making them, because I don't like setting myself up to fail. Most times, I get ideas in my head, but don't write them down or get them clear, and just try to slowly weave them into my life as I would at any other time of year.

One of my "ideas" this year was to become more a part of my church community. So far, so good. I came back from my trip feeling much more at home there.

Then I have the usual "work out and eat better" thoughts, although I'm trying to extend those to reducing the number of processed foods I eat. At the moment, that's on the back burner until the kitchen on our floor is finished being remodeled.

I didn't really have anything else in mind, until this past week. My brother-in-law had resolved to read a certain number of books this year, having almost met last years' goal. I thought that was a pretty good resolution. Me being practically born with a book in my hand, I'm always glad when someone else tries to increase their contact with the written word, but didn't think a resolution like that was really necessary for me.

But then I read a novel (The Other Boleyn Girl, if you're curious). Though I was slow starting it, once I got into it, I couldn't put it down. I was reading a page here, a page there, at every moment I could steal. It's not that I don't read much--hello, I'm in seminary for goodness' sake. But I don't often make time to read for pleasure, to read just for the simple joy of being caught up in a well-crafted story.

Then this week I was on Facebook, catching up on the myriad of groups to which I belong, when I popped in to look at the discussion board for the group "Reading is Sexy." A fabulous group for the nerdy, bibliophile types like me (whose membership is over 44,000). The discussion title "50 Book Challenge" caught my eye. The original posts were from April of last year, but the idea is that from the day you start, you have 365 days to read 50 books.

The combination of a good challenge (which is difficult for me to pass up) plus my newly rekindled passion for reading led to me posting and taking the challenge. I decided that I would just use 2008, though we're already part way into it, and count the 2 books I finished before I took the challenge. I also gave myself the concession that I can count homework and "professional development" books as well--something that may help me get through the 29 books related to ministry I've checked out from the library because they looked interesting.

So, 27 days into it, I've read 4 books. Not a bad start, I'd say. My first considerations for a Lenten practice may help me along as well, but I'll get to that in a later post. And hey, I have a little advantage taking this challenge in 2008: it's a leap year, so I have an extra day to read!

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Life in the Light of the Gospel

I recently received my "Weekly Seeds" Bible study resource from the UCC, and in the middle of the commentary, the question is posed: What would happen if we approached every decision in our lives by shining the light of the gospel on it?

Though I just skimmed through the rest of the commentary at the time, that question stuck with me. And I even took it a step further: what would happen if I approached every aspect of my life by doing the same? Now, let me just say that this is not simply a "What Would Jesus Do" thing. This is a chance to read through the Gospels, look at not only what Jesus said and did, but what those around him said and did, and then think about how my life reflects that.

I don't claim to know the Gospels so well that I can easily quote any part of them, but I would think that if I were intentional about it, I could look at my life through the light of the gospel from the moment I woke up until the moment I fell back to sleep that evening.

The commentary probes whether we fit our faith to suit our lives rather than making our lives fit our faith committment, and also addresses whether we should feel "comfortable" when following God/Jesus. Unfortunately, I can tick off a few ways I bend to comfort, rather than gospel, in just my first hour of consciousness in the morning.

In realizing that, I realize that this task of shining the light of the gospel on all aspects of my life could get overwhelming and tedious. So over the next few days or weeks that I reflect on this question, I'll do so in small doses. I'll take just that first hour to shine a light on my coffee, my shower, the clothing I put on. Then maybe I'll shine a light on my decision to start my day with prayer or not, to exercise or not, to eat breakfast or not (and if so, what am I eating?). And so on.

I have no illusions that I'll get to a day lived perfectly in the gospel. But awareness is a powerful thing. The best I can hope from my experiment is that I am more aware of the choice between following God/Jesus and an ordinary, comfortable existence, and a reminder that this choice is often not as big as dropping the nets and leaving our lives behind (although, take it from someone who knows, sometimes they are, and we'd best be prepared for those too!). I think I'll also probably discover that one can live quite happily and in comfort while following the gospel, with a little change of perspective.

I'll keep you updated on my progess, and if you decide to conduct a similar experiment in your own life--or segment of your life--or have already done so, please share!

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I'm Back! First Reflections on NOLA

Phew! It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks. First, I took an intensive 1-week course at another seminary. The day after it ended, I left for New Orleans on a mission trip. I'm starting to catch up on e-mail and get back into my normal routine, but I am still deep in reflection about my experience in NOLA.

I would say that the strongest impression I have about the city of New Orleans is that it is a study in contrasts: black and white, destruction and rebuilding, culture and tackiness, hope and despair.

Many in my group were suprised at how many places in New Orleans are still destroyed and deserted. In any given neighborhood that suffered severe flooding in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in 2004--for the storm itself caused little damage-- there may be as many as half the houses still with crumbling walls, spray-painted X's on the front, and tattered blue tarps on the roof. Large strip malls in those neighborhoods were still empty. On the other hand, it is clear that New Orleans is slowly but surely renewing itself. Piles of debris on the sidewalk meant someone was returning home to clean-up, repair, or rebuild. Stores had "we're back!" signs in the window.

There is still much work to do, however. One of the most striking moments for me was driving to our work site through a higher-end neighborhood with some truly gorgeous (and huge) houses. One house, which could almost qualify as a mansion, looked just fine, until I took a second look and realized it was still empty. The stone fountain in the backyard was tilted in the ground, and the curtains looked ragged. I wondered about the home's owners. Why had they not come back? Financial reasons? Had their insurance company not given them the money they needed to repair the damage? Were they afraid of another storm, or of the high crime rate? I don't know.

In the days and weeks following the flooding, as the death toll rose, the SuperDome emptied, and the waters subsided, I heard various comments about God's role in the disaster, including comments that equated the damage with God's wrath for the sinfulness of the Big Easy. Theologically, I don't believe in that type of thing--particularly because I believe that God is on the side of the poor, and they were the most affected by the events of Katrina. I do, however, believe that God's presence in New Orleans is now quite evident. From the resolve of natives to make things right, to the young people in AmeriCorps working to rebuild, to the multitude of groups from all over the country who continue to make trips to help out in whatever way they can, I saw God working to restore the city.

The group I traveled with ranged in age from 25-68, some with high skill level in construction and some who'd never even picked up a hammer, and yet we all were disappointed when we couldn't work as much as we wanted to. I fell in love not only with the city of New Orleans (I'm already trying to figure out when I can return), but with the people in our group. I'm sure I'll reflect more on this experience in the weeks to come, but for now, I am simply grateful to have worked with such an amazing group of people in such an amazing place.

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6 Things I'm Thanking God For

So many times we wait for really big things to ask or thank God for (and yes, grammar-freaks, I know that's grammatically incorrect, it's a dangling participle or something ridiculous, but "for which to ask or thank God" sounds snotty. So sue me.). So today I've compiled a short list of small things for which I'm thankful (there, happy?):

1. Coffee

There's really not much else to say about this. Although I am truly a morning person, I love and desperately need my daily cup of coffee to really function clearly.

2. Rain boots

One of my best purchases ever, my galoshes are not only fashionable and cheery on ugly gray days (such as today), but highly practical when walking New York City streets and sidewalks. Especially at the corners, where there tend to be ginormous puddles. With my rain boots, I can just prance right through, instead of trying to figure out a graceful way to jump over them, which inevitably ends up in wet feet when I miss by a few inches.

3. Clinton's win in NH

Yes, I know yesterday I blogged that I'd have voted for Obama, and right now he's still the candidate I'd support, but Clinton's win makes the race interesting. I hate when things are one-sided. Oh, and if you are also still undecided, want an unbiased look at candidate's experience and positions on issues, and don't have much time, try Project Vote Smart.

4. An old, beat up sweatshirt

I have this lovely sweatshirt I've had since high school. It's really big on me and seen better days, but on mornings such as this, when it is fairly warm outside (50s F), it is just a little chilly inside my room (heat doesn't come on when it's that warm and the windows let the cold in). So I'm appreciative of the sweatshirt I could throw on when I got out of my warm bed!

5. Jeans

This past semester I attempted to change my wardrobe choices a bit and wear things other than jeans most days. It didn't work. I'm a jeans girl at heart. Today I'm wearing one of my favorite outfits: jeans and a white button-down shirt. Classic.

6. Did I mention coffee?

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If I Were In NH...

Today's the big day, and as a New Hampshire native, it's one I'm quite used to hearing about every four years: the first-in-the-nation New Hampshire primary. When I was visiting my parents over the holidays, the phone rang at least every hour, sometimes even more often. We knew, from the unfamiliar 603-area code numbers, that they were political calls, and we didn't answer them. Only once did a campaign leave a message. I felt grateful that I am registered to vote in New York, because I honestly had no idea who I'd vote for come January 8.

Now January 8 is here, and I have to say that if I were living and voting in NH, (despite, very truthfully, having done little research and paid no attention to the debates), my vote would be going to Obama.

Now, the strong feminist inside of me would love to say a female president. I'd love to see Hillary working on policy while Bill chooses the china and linens and makes public his favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe.

The problem is, I, like many others of my generation and younger, have become completely disillusioned by this country's government. A few months ago I was listening to Peter, Paul, Mary's version of Bob Dylan's classic "The Times They Are A-Changin'." I wanted to write the lyrics out and send it to each one of our representatives and ask, "what happened?" What happened to the ideals of this generation, who hated establishment and corruption, who loved Bobby, Martin, and John? Why is there still so much injustice and inequality happening at the hands of the United States Government?

Now, all of the candidates are promoting the "change" that they will bring to the government (and smart they are to do that, too, since Bush's approval rating is dismal across the board). But I think that no one has the vision and hope for real change that Barack Obama does. He's been compared to the visionary voices of Robert Kennedy, JFK, and Martin Luther King, Jr. From the little research I have done, I think it's a fair comparison. He's not advocating trying to change some things by following the status quo. He wants to shake things up. And though his lack of political experience has been used as criticism, I think it might actually be beneficial, because he's not so ingrained to "way things are done."

Now, am I naive enough to think that he'll accomplish all he wants to should he be elected? No. There are lots of other factors involved in politics. But then again, look at all the young people, Generations X and Y, who voted--many for the first time--in Iowa. What if Obama is the force that gets them involved in politics and social action? We already know that unlike the "slackers" of Gen. X, Generation Y (or the "Millenials") is much more engaged in civic action and social responsibilty. They volunteer, even beyond school-mandated community service requirements. They use their highly fought-for consumer dollars on environmentally-conscious products.

I think Obama has a chance to reach them, and gives hope that another way of doing things is possible, a hope that for many who've watched the events of the last 7 years with horror (and who cried when Bush was re-elected) was almost snuffed out.

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Ding, dong! God calling...

Well, I hate to admit it, but maybe my friend was right. See, she's a Deaconess in the United Methodist Church--it's a lifetime commissioning/commitment to be in ministries of love, justice, and service--and she swears up and down that if I won't leave the UCC for the UMC to become a Deaconess, at the very least I will do something similar. She keeps asking me pointed questions about overseas mission, and talking about programs like AmeriCorps. When I demure, she tells me she knows it when she sees it, and she sees it in me.

I didn't think about it too much, until this weekend. For my Gospel of Luke class, I wrote a contemporization of Luke's Passion narrative--from the last supper until Jesus is laid in the tomb--which was surprisingly a powerful experience for me (and if you'd like to read it, just ask and I'll send you a copy). I based my modern-day Jesus character on Shane Claiborne, the founder of a group called The Simple Way, people who are trying to follow Jesus' commands to love God and love one another, especially through living in community and working to end poverty.

As part of my intended research for my paper, I borrowed Shane's book, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical from the library. After realizing I didn't really need it to write my paper, I made myself wait to read any of it until I was done with my studies. I finished the paper Sunday morning (two days before it was due, thankyouverymuch), and started the book Sunday afternoon. I've been reading it in bits and pieces, and haven't finished it yet. But I'm feeling a tug on my heart, and a knotty feeling in my gut, which in my experience usually means that God's calling me to something. I feel the same way when I read anything about kids in foster care and orphanages, and I felt the same way when I started looking at seminaries.

So as I continue reading Shane's stories, I'm taking a lot of deep breaths, and just keeping myself open--to the guidance of the Spirit, to new possibilities for my life...and to the distinct chance that maybe my Deaconess friend was right after all.

(photo of simple way mural by pro-adventure)

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Nothing big

I apologize, poppets (I've always wanted to use that word), as this post will have no great revelations, not call to action, no brilliant insights into the workings of the world/church/deli down the street. I just realized it's been a few days since I posted, and I didn't want anyone to think I fell off the face of the world.

Today, we have a winter storm warning in effect for NYC--a lovely combination of snow, sleet, and freezing rain is headed our way. I'm ok with this on one level: living in NYC means I'm not having to try and drive in the stuff. However, since I agreed to babysit on my usual off-day (couldn't refuse a chance to make some money), I will have to walk a good distance in the nastiness. Fun.

This is disagreeable also because this is the type of weather that makes me want to spend the day huddled inside with tea and hot chocolate, quilting or reading or some other cozy pasttime. And what I really should be doing is writing my contemporization of Luke's Passion narrative that is due early next week.

Sigh...the semester is almost over...

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Season of Light

Tonight, many of my neighbors in New York City are celebrating the fourth night of Chanukah (or Hanukkah), the Festival of Light. We Christians are in our own time of light, moving through this first week of Advent. I don't think it's a coincidence that two major world religions both focus on light in darkness as the days get shorter and shorter (at least in the northern half of the world).

I find myself focusing more and more on this light. What does it mean for the light to shine in the darkness? A Jewish friend of mine asked me the other day what Advent is. "A time of preparation," I told her. "Of expectation, and anticipation."

I have to admit, this is my favorite time of year. For Christians, technically, Easter and Lent are more more important holidays. I don't think it's just because I love Christmas carols, lights, the smell of pine, and eggnog. It's certianly not the commercialism and consumerism. Ick. So what is it about Advent, and the expectation of Christmas, that I love so much?

I think it comes down to the hope. There is possibility at Advent. The chance for miracles--and not just on 34th Street or in a small Middle Eastern town 2,000 years ago, but next door, across the country, around the world. The air is filled with the hope that the light will break through the darkness, that good will overcome evil, that peace and goodwill will be among all.

My wish this season for all of you is that you find light in the darkness, and that you never lose hope.

Peace be with you.

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We Need to Do Better

Where were you in 1991? I'll show my age by saying that in 1991 I was, well, 12. Just shy of the highly coveted title of teenager.

Why the focus on 1991 ? Because that's when the birth rate in a teen age group, 15-19, mostly high-schoolers or freshmen in college, started dropping. It fell all through my years in high school, and college. My younger sister, who was 6 at the time of the first decline in the teen pregnancy rate, almost made it through college herself with a continual decline. Almost. However, as reported here in the Washington Post, for the first time in 14 years, the national teen birth rate went up between 2005 and 2006.

Think about it. 14 years. Which means that when the decline started, the teens in that age group were toddlers and pre-schoolers. And it means that when Bush was elected, they were in middle school, or just beginning high school. I don't know about all of you, but my sex education classes started in 6th grade. I got a refresher my first year of high school.

And where did the Bush administration put their money? Into abstinence-only programs. Coincidence? Well, it's a little too early to really say for sure. We need to wait until next year to find out if the teen birth rate increase was the start of a trend or just a one-year hiccup. However, we've already been told by many studies that abstinence-only sex education does nothing to change teens' behavior, so I'm forcasting that we'll see another increase next year.

Despite this, there are those who believe it's the other way around:

"This shows that the contraceptive message that kids are getting is failing,"
said Leslee Unruh of the Abstinence Clearinghouse. "The contraceptive-only
message is treating the symptom, not the cause. You need to teach about
relationships. If you look at what kids have to digest on a daily basis, you
have adults teaching kids about the pleasures of sex but not about the
responsibilities that go with it."

I actually have to agree with most of the last part of her statement. We do need to teach about relationships. Kids do digest a lot of sex-themed stuff on a daily basis; if we look at the media and advertising industries, it's very obvious that we as a country are sex-obsessed. However, what's ironic to me is that she's talking about the responsibilities that go along with sex...while promoting abstinence. Abstinence is not responsible sex. Abstinence is not having sex at all.

Here's the thing: I'm not anti-abstinence. I absolutely think teens (and everyone else) should wait to have sex until they're ready. Most teens aren't really ready, or mature enough. But telling them just not to do it, and giving them no information about how to do it responsibly when they inevitably do it anyway is a disservice to them--and it puts them at mortal risk.

Teens (and younger, even) need to know what the risks are, and how to avoid them. They need to know that abstinence--not just of intercourse, but of all bodily-fluid interactions (ok, besides kissing)--is the only safe option, but there are ways of making sexual behavior safer. This is not just about avoiding pregnancy, but avoiding contracting sexually transmitted infections (STIs, also known as STDs).

Recently I watched a DVD of a film produced in 1989, on some stories behind the panels of the AIDS quilt. It went through a timeline, of when the disease first appeared, the long delay before it first appeared in the media, and how many thousands of Americans had died before the president actually spoke the word. The Surgeon General at the time, C. Everett Coop, was shown speaking out about...abstinence only sex education in the schools. He said something like, "This should be about saving lives, not saving souls."

The rate of chlamydia has gone up. The teen birth rate has gone up. And guess what. According to the Center for Disease Control, the rate of HIV infection in that age group in the U.S. (and many above it) has increased as well. Remember, there is still no cure for AIDS.

So those teen girls who are having babies, and those (presumably) teen boys who are fathering them, are all at risk for HIV and a host of other infections.

This isn't about saving souls. This is about saving lives. And we need to do better.

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