Still Fruity

2009-11-14T05:26:00.001-06:00

Just so everyone knows, I am now blogging here. I still have my private blog, and I'll update Rowan's blog from time to time. But, mainly I'm here. Thanks for reading.

Outta Here...

2009-10-14T19:17:00.002-05:00

It's time to let everyone know that my plans to get out of Texas have been finalized. Most of you know that I have been working towards this for about two years, deciding what to do, and where to go.

As it turns out there is a good opportunity for me in Wuxi, China. Very flat and verdant, much like the Texas Gulf Coast. I think it's a pretty town, and an exciting place to be. I'll be working at the Wuxi South Ocean College in the School of International Cooperation. We serve about 400 students who are preparing to continue their studies in English-speaking countries and we have relationships with schools in the US, Australia, Canada, and the UK.

Of course you are naturally more concerned for little Rowan than you are for me, and that is totally understandable. He will stay right where he is, at his Mama Rita's house. He has a dog door which exits onto a large back yard. He digs holes, runs, and barks more than the neighbors would like. But, I'll tell you what, there are no squirrels in Rowan's area. I have been acclimating Rowan to his new home for over a year now and I have every confidence that he will be happy and continue to receive the level of care that you know I demand for him. This was never something I was willing to compromise on, and I assure you that if I hadn't been able to make adequate arrangements for Rowan, I wouldn't be leaving.

I am probably leaving someone off this email, I'm sorry for that. I will, however post to the blog and you may feel free to share this information should you find anyone who is interested.

Here's some photos of Wuxi I snagged off Google Images.

You can see that there's lots of water. Wuxi is on Lake Tai Hu which is gigantic. Lots to see there.
Buddha seems fairly popular. A temple on every corner...

The city is crossed by ancient canals, still in use. Very cool, I think.

You can see that it's a city of contrasts: New and old, Modern and traditional, a small village of five million!

I leave on Saturday. Wish me luck.

Not yet...

2009-10-11T11:29:00.002-05:00

So, I went to the salon yesterday to get myself made even more beautiful. I know, I know, it's hard to imagine. Anyway, my manicurist was watching some sporting event on television. It was the one where men run across a field with an oblong shaped ball and pretty girls dance at half-time. And, for no other reason than to be nice, I asked whether or not her team was winning. "Not yet," she said. And I thought that was a wonderfully optimistic way to look at it. So, from now on, instead of viewing things in terms of winning and loosing, one way or the other, maybe we could look at in terms of not having happened yet. Has justice rolled down like water? Not yet. Do we have a church with no outcasts? Not yet. Is the game over? Not yet...

2009-09-20T22:23:00.004-05:00

I know that most of you have been wondering what you can do to help make sure that the Ryan White CARE Act is re-authorized. God love you, all of you.

The best thing you can do is let your elected representatives know that this is something that you care about. A handwritten note, a very short note, is best. But, you know what? If you don't have time for that, just call them up. Here's all you need to know...

Here's the address and phone number for your president:

President Barak Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500

The telephone number for the comment line is 202 456 1111. If you know who you want to talk to, and do not use this line to try to talk to the president, but if you need someone specific, call the switchboard at 202 456 1414. Either memorize these numbers or put them in your speed dial.

Or, you can even just use this special form, right here on the computer, couldn't be easier.

To find the DC address of your congressional representative go to this list. But, here's a little tip for you. Let's say you're not in the mood for all that clicking around on the internets. What you can do is just write the name of your congressperson on a nice envelope, on the next line write HOB, on the next line write Washington DC 20515. It is very likely to get there. Do the same thing for your senators except you use the letters SOB, and the zip is 20510. That's just for if you are too busy to actually look it up. And no snickering about the SOB thing. It stands for Senate Office Building. Why? What did you think it stood for?

Now, supposing you are feeling very industrious, you can earn extra points by writing to your senators and congressional representatives at their district offices. Oh yeah, the district office is where the local yokels work and they'll give your letter the buzz it deserves. This is mainly because most district offices don't get that many letters and about all they do is boring case work. So, make some district manager's day and send him a letter. The addresses are at the site above.

If you don't feel like writing. You can call. You don't even have to know the phone number. The only number you need is 202 224 3121. Again, you should memorize this or, at the very least, put it in your speed dial. All you have to do is ask for your congress member and you'll get right through.

When someone in your representative or senators office answers the phone, ask to speak to the LA for ...whatever. Well, don't actually say, "whatever." In this case you want to speak to "the LA for health care," or you might ask for "the LA who would answer questions about the Ryan White CARE Act." That way the LAs who are loitering in the lobby can jockey to see which of them wants to jump on it or dodge it, depending. LA stands for Legislative Assistant. It's a title given to recent college graduates who are the children of high-dollar donors and, occasionally, people who actually know something of the subject area they are responsible for. It is likely that the LA you speak to will be most earnest but will not answer your question. That's OK. Just kindly offer to call back again in about a week, and then shock them by actually doing it. Extra points if you remember their name!

You need to know a couple things about the Ryan White CARE Act before you call, though LAs sometimes like to help educate you and some of them are good at this so let them tell all they know.

A good overview of the act is available here. Also, here. Don't be confused by all the acronyms. It's plain enough. Just read the first couple of paragraphs of the second one.

One of the things I like to do is tell people exactly how much money we are talking about. Here in Texas, in 2007, we got $147,840,421. That's a lot of dough. Texas is one of only twelve states in the highest funding category. So, no matter what you think about HIV/AIDS funding, why would anyone turn down that kind of money?

In the same year, Fran's state, New York, got $333,968,334. That's more than any other state! Surly her senators don't want to loose that kind of money.

In Diane's state, Minnesota, the amount was significantly less at only $12,808,247. But, still.

When you give your senators a specific monetary amount it does two things: One, it helps them think of the measure as something that benefits all their constituents, not just the ones with HIV/AIDS; and it also lets them know that you care enough about it to have done some homework. People who know the issues also vote.

If you want to know how much Ryan White CARE Act money went to your state, go here. Click on your state to get the exact amount.

You can also let them know exactly how many of their constituents are living with AIDS. In Texas it's nearly 35,000. In NY 75,253 people live with AIDS. In MN it's 2,439. To find out about your state go here. Just roll the mouse over your state to get the number.

And, finally, if you find yourself dealing with hard-core Republicans you can always quote George W. Bush:

"Because HIV/AIDS brings suffering and fear into so many lives, I ask you to reauthorize the Ryan White Act to encourage prevention, and provide care and treatment to the victims of that disease. And as we update this important law, we must focus our efforts on fellow citizens with the highest rates of new cases, African-American men and women."
-President George W. Bush, State of the Union Address, February 2, 2005

Almost no one is opposed to Ryan White. It's a funding source of last resort. But, and this has happened before, it's about to sunset (that means expire) and nobody has thought to re-authorize it. It can get temporary funding through a CR (that means continuing resolution) but it still has to be re-authorized. Try to use the word re-authorize.

Good on you, all of you, for your great concern on this. And thanks for standing with me, glowstick in hand, (see previous post) as we continue on.

People With Glowsticks

2009-09-17T16:03:00.003-05:00

I'm the kind of gal who just loves a glow stick. It's true. I once even lifted my shirt to get one. It was one of those big ones, the size of a baton, well worth it. Not that the girls were at all exposed, always strapped in as they are. But, still, these days I'd probably just buy one. You can get them anywhere. But, I was happy to get one at the Ryan White CARE Act demonstration in Houston last week. They were small and red, nobody had to show anything to get one. But, they glowed. I love that.

You've probably heard me say that in 2007 Texas received $147,840,421 of Ryan White CARE Act funding, one of only 12 states in the top funding category. This is important for all Texans whether HIV+ or not. This matters to us.

You may even have heard me quote George W. Bush on the subject:

"Because HIV/AIDS brings suffering and fear into so many lives, I ask you to reauthorize the Ryan White Act to encourage prevention, and provide care and treatment to the victims of that disease. And as we update this important law, we must focus our efforts on fellow citizens with the highest rates of new cases, African-American men and women." -President George W. Bush, State of the Union Address, February 2, 2005

So, it won't surprise you to know that I invited nearly 40 people from my small town to accompany me to Houston for a small demonstration on behalf of reauthorizing Ryan White CARE Act funding. Forty. What will surprise you is that not one of them came with me. Not one.

I emailed with one just days before the event and asked if he was coming. "I don't really care about AIDS," he said. "And," he tried to reason with me, "you don't go to Texan's games so I'm not going to this."

Well, he wasn't going so I should have left it at that. But, I couldn't resist reminding him that no one would die because of my absence at the Texan games. As you already know, that had no effect on him.

As for me, I rustled up a buddy in Houston and we had a lovely time. For a pre-demonstration dinner we went to one of Houston/'s lovely restaurants and we both got those little pupusas with some vegetable medley. I had spinach and something in my pupusa. All very nice. And we went to the demonstration. I had long-since moved on from it until this afternoon.

I was standing in the que down at the local supermarket, you see, when I ran into one of last week's invitees. We chatted for a few minutes about something meaningless, at least to me. And then I said, "Hey, you should have come out to the thing last week, we had a good time." And, thinking she'd missed something, she wanted to know who all went and where we ate. Those are the two big questions in small towns. So, I had to tell her that it was just me and a friend from Houston, and that we'd had pupusa's which she'd never heard of. She was relieved that she hadn't missed out on a trip to Spaghetti Warehouse. Don't want to miss out on that!

I helpfully added that the rain had let up for the demonstration and that there were about 60 people there. Of course, I told her about the glow sticks too. "Oh," she said. "Well, 60 people isn't enough to make a difference. You have to have thousands of people before anyone pays any attention." Hum... Well, you all know how mild-manned I am, or am I just beaten down, it's hard to tell. Anyway, I just said, "Well, you may be right." And then we talked about the new take-out menu at the deli. No more hot items after 2 pm.

There would be no blog post, I wouldn't have given it another thought, except for this. As she turned to go she said, in that all-knowing way that small town women sometimes have, "I don't know why you go to those demonstration things. They don't do no good. ...I'm glad I didn't go. It was a waste of time." And then she kind of swished away. And, truly, this is not a woman who should be swishing anywhere.

So, I stood there and I thought about that. In some ways she is right. People don't care. It didn't get so much attention. And, in the old days that is why we did things like lay down across Pennsylvania Avenue. For the attention. That's what ACTUP was about. Attention. There was a time when I thought getting attention for HIV/AIDS was so important that I risked arrest, sometimes was arrested, spent endless evenings planning, organizing, and smoking pot with those gals from the Methodist thing. All for the attention. Because my friends were dying and, as my supermarket friend said, people didn't care.

But, you know what? People know now. If they don't care, that's their thing. But, they know. So, why keep demonstrating? Because, it's not for the attention. That's not the reason.

There are only two reasons that I came up with, there at the supermarket, and they are both good ones:

We go because it's the right thing to do. Because it's one way we have of showing solidarity with those who are affected by HIV. And, while that doesn't really help them, it's a powerful kinesthetic reminder to us! We keep going to remind ourselves that this is the kind of people we are, this is what we stand for, glow stick in hand.

And we go because others are watching. The woman I took to the demonstration with me wouldn't have gone otherwise. The pupusas and my charming personality got her there. But she has now had the experience of wearing a red ribbon, holding a glow stick, and standing up for something she is trying to believe is important. I think she wants to be a little bit radical, but she doesn't know how.

And, there are the others. Some who finally took a stand, however tentative, towards saying that they will actually work for justice. Maybe they'll call a congressman, or write a letter, or just talk to someone. Even if they only do one thing, they aren't doing it alone because we all stood there together with our glow sticks.

So, what if we didn't get any attention, if nobody noticed? That's not why we do these things. We have our reasons, all of us. We have our grand reasons, like it being the right thing to do. And we have our individual reasons, the ones we can name: Amy, John, Stephen, Kevin, Brian, Tao... do you really want to get me started? Because I can go on, Dale, Michael, Bruce Juan, Peter, Ken, Dave, Bill... I can't forget the other Michael. It seems unfair not to name them all. Part of me goes to remember, sure. I go for them. But, mainly, I go because there is still AIDS and because the work is not finished, and I need reminding.

If you think that's a waste of time, well then maybe your time would be better spent contemplating the deli menu.

A Jewel In The City

2009-09-10T19:37:00.002-05:00

My friend, Billy.

I learned as much about the streets from one month of talking to Billy as I learned in the previous decade. This is a man who knows his way around. But, look carefully. Because Billy knows something else. Something that still baffles me. He knows how to have hope, even in hopelessness.

Billy has no family, no friends that he trusts, only one leg, and extremely poor vision. His hands are calloused and unstable. He gets health care from the VA when he can get there. He experiences hunger and thirst every single day. He told me that. Billy has no skills, though he used to be able to read and write back when he could see. He can't get up without help. He relies on the goodness of strangers for that.

It makes you want to bury your face on the table and weep, doesn't it?

Well, don't be so quick to weep because Billy does have a few things. He has hope, for one thing. I'm not talking about hope of a nice home, or even a nice meal. Billy has hope of the resurrection. He told me this in one of our first meetings and totally without prodding. Really. This man on the streets is hoping in the resurrection. He didn't see it but I just about burst in to tears when he said that. Don't know why, really. But, I felt this statement of his somewhere deep, in the core.

And there's something else. Billy has a calling. He doesn't call it that, I do. But that's what it is. Billy gives a blessing to almost everyone he encounters. "God bless you, and God bless your kin," he says. "God bless you, and God help you do good." Billy told me he offers people a blessing because it's the only thing he can do. I told him it was the most important thing I could think of, and Billy pointed down Pearl Street, toward Wall Street and said, "What about all that?" "I think you might be richer than all that," I said. Billy laughed. He knows.... Billy knows.

I am wondering how I can ever be as convinced of my own worth as Billy is convinced of his. I am wondering how, in my affluence, I can find a little hope. How does hope happen? Because I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. I am wondering if I can ever be as rich as Billy.

It's raining here in Texas. And, all I can think to hope for my friend is that he is warm, or cool, and dry, and safe, that he has eaten. But, most of all, I hope he is still giving blessings and offering hope to a world baffled by his riches.

There a beggar goes! Heaven and Earth he's wearing for his summer clothes!

Wray, William. Sayings and Tales of Zen Buddhism, Reflections for Every Day. 1. Edison, NJ: Chartwell Books, 2006. Print.

"Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh,"

2009-09-08T23:15:00.004-05:00

I believe I told you about Andrew Ramer. Well, here he is again with a post that left me speechless. This is gorgeous.

From our cool friends at Jewcy:

Twice a Heretic
from Tales from Andalusia

by Andrew Ramer, September 8, 2009

"Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh," we say to You in prayer, three times over. "Holy, Holy, Holy." And now I find myself before You, at thrice the age of a boy who has had his bar mitzvah. I cannot count the times over all these years that I have awakened and called out to You, still in my bed, I stand before You, God. I have thanked You for the purity of my soul, for the wonders of my body. I have praised and exalted You, over and over again, in words of my own, in synagogue, joined with my people in common prayer, Sabbath after Sabbath, festival after festival, fast day after fast day. I've read psalms and even written them to You, as all of my friends have, calling out to You, O God of Israel.

When I was twice the age of a bar mitzvah boy I remember asking the rabbi of my youth this question: "After all of these years of calling out to God, why hasn't He called back?" The rabbi's answer was simple. "To the prophet Elijah He spoke, we are told, in a still small voice." I knew nothing of still small voices. Our household was always filled with people, and our prayer halls are always jammed and noisy from men's prayers. Curious about how I would ever hear that still small voice, I asked my Christian friend Rolando about silence, for I had heard that Christian monks spend long periods of time alone, silent, in prayer. He told me what he knew, gave me a book of his to read, which invoked the same passages about the still small voice. So I found places to still myself, in the attic, the cellar, in the synagogue at times when no one else was there. Once, feeling very brave, I asked Rolando if I could go to church with him, and he took me, at a time when mass was not being offered. He led me to a tiny chapel, where candles flickered before an image of a saint. I was nervous and yet curious. He knelt and I stood in silence. But I did not hear Your voice, God, although we remained there a long time, and I have tried, in the middle of the night, when I wake, to feel my way to You in the silence, to open myself up to You, in the silence. But You never spoke back to me, God, not one single time in all of those years.

Once when we were boys, and he had just come back from mass, I remember Rolando telling me about the mystery of Jesus, how he was God Himself, come to earth, come into a human body. That he was born, suffered, and died for our sins. It did not make sense to me, why the Creator of all that is would have to do that. But it makes sense to me now.

The first time I saw him, God, come into a room, I felt as if a comet had shot its way down from the heavens, down across the sky, sending its fiery tail out behind it, illuminating the night. I felt as if that comet had flared its way across the sky and then careening downward, had slammed into my chest with the force of a gigantic cannon ball, crumbling my defenses, smashing through all of my protective walls, setting me on fire. Each time that I saw him, God, walking in the city, in the market, in the bathhouse, I burned. And if I saw him with any other men, such rage flamed up in me that I feared for my actions. And I ran from him, turned my back and fled each time I saw him. I am not a boy, God, as you know, and this foolish youthful passion is unseemly.

So why did You do this to me? Why didn't You just speak, as You spoke to the prophets, directly, or spoke to the rabbis of old, in a lesser voice, which we call the daughter of a voice? God, I would fall to my knees before You if you spoke to me in the great great granddaughter of a voice, in a voice so tiny that it would make a whisper sound like waves crashing on the shore, or the crack of lightning shattering the sky, or the thunder of horses across a plain, pulling iron chariots. Instead, you have come to me this way, turning me into a Christian. For now I understand what Rolando was telling me all of those years ago. You do enter the world. You can be born. But this time it is me who suffers, me who is dying, me who yearns to sin and live for my sins. What madness, to be twice a heretic, for now I believe like a Christian and not a Jew. But I cannot join their church for I do not believe that Yesu was Your only begotten Son, but Abdul.

Abdul ibn Rachman, the son of a minister to the king. Abdul ibn Rachman, even his name sends shivers through me. I ran from him. You know that I did. I turned and ran, double heretic that I am, falling in love with a Muslim. And now yesterday, in a voice so loud that I could not deny it, You called out to me through him, and I ran to You. A cart out of control, thundering down the Street of the Tailors, just as I was passing. I heard it before I saw it, and I threw myself up against a wall as it passed. But there ahead, there was a crowd. They too did the same, all of them, press themselves flat against a wall. But the horse was wild, and the cart was rocking from side to side, and a single man with his back to me was struck as the cart shuddered by. I saw it rip into his shoulder, and I heard his scream. Being a physician I ran toward him, as he fell into the street, holding his shoulder, in agony. A woman beside him began to scream for help, as I fell to the ground beside the fallen man. "I'm a doctor," I said to him, as I lay a gentle hand upon his back. "You're going to be all right." I did not know that. It's something that we always say. You know that. So I said it, as I slipped a hand down his back and slowly lowered him to the street.

You did this to me, God. This is the way that you have answered all of my years of prayer. For when I turned him from his side to his back, it was those same dark eyes looking up at me, now in terror. I pulled my shawl off, rolled it up and quickly put it beneath his head. He smiled at me weakly, upside down. I told him I had seen what had happened, and asked him how his shoulder was. He winced as he tried to move his left arm toward his right, to feel from the outside what I knew from his grimace must be very painful. Was his shoulder dislocated, broken, torn? Blood was seeping through his clothing. I was about to say something else when two servants came running through the crowd which had gathered. They were servants of his father's. But You know that. You know how they gently lifted him and carried him back to his father's house, and how I followed them. And You know how all the way there he clenched my hand and would not let go, and how each time the servants slipped or loosened their grip on him, he would shudder, wince, cry out in pain. Later, when I had examined him and found out that nothing was broken but skin, nothing dislocated but our hearts, he told me that he was ashamed that he'd cried out. And I said to him, "Every cry is a prayer." And he said, "This is the first cry of mine that has ever been answered." Surely this is a sign from You, that two men find each other who have been looking for You without success, who find You in each other. And so I say, thank you.

Dog Friends

2009-09-08T22:32:00.004-05:00

This is Rowan's friend. Her name is Samantha. She's old but when Rowan is around she gets a burst of energy, she clicks her little paws on the hard floor, sometimes she even runs back and forth for no apparent reason. She only does this when Rowan is around.

I have a couple friends too. I know, I know, I've been a grouchy gal since coming back to Texas. But, a few people are still willing to be my friends.

And I've noticed that, like little Samantha, my friends influence me. Some make me laugh, others help me think. Some are just good for hanging out. A few can cook. But, in their eyes I see a little of myself. I see myself the way they see me. And, you know what, they do not all have the same image I do.

I don't think I have anything to say about that. But, isn't it interesting? And, isn't Samantha a cute little dog?

For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. -- I Cor. 13:12

All Our Opinions

2009-09-05T18:36:00.007-05:00

We all have an opinion these days, don't we? I mean, I do. Go ahead, ask me anything! I've probably got something to say about it. And, it's likely that what I have to say is something you need to hear. I mean, that's how it is, isn't it? We all have something new and fresh to say about everything, all the time, and we are always right... Yeah, that sounds about right to me.

So, on that subject, here's a little something for all of us to think about:

Nan-in, a Japanese master received a university professor, full of learning and talk, who came to inquire about Zen, Nan-in served tea. He filled the visitor's cup and then kept pouring, The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself.

"It's over-full, No more will go in."

"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?

I do have thoughts about this, and speculations. But, maybe I should let my quick analysis go and see if something else shows up in my cup...

Wray, William. Sayings and Tales of Zen Buddhism, Reflections for Every Day. 1. Edison, NJ: Chartwell Books, 2006. Print.

A Little Parable About Getting Along

2009-09-02T17:54:00.006-05:00

The Episcopal church asks each diocese to contribute 21% of its income to the budget of General Convention. That money goes for a wide variety of things, including GC itself. There's the Church Center and its staff, committee meetings, and many, many, mission initiatives -- foreign and domestic -- which are funded through this budget. It's really a thing of beauty, the budget of General Convention.

So, anyway, most of the diocese give about that amount. Newark gives 25%, I think. Some give less. It seems like pretty much a voluntary thing. And nobody wants to see harsh enforcement. TEC is more of a communal enterprise. When one can't pay as much, the others take up the slack. No big deal.

There are, however, some who abuse this system. Texas, one of the richest diocese around, like top one or two in income, usually pledges about 8 or 9%. Really paltry. It's miserly of them because if they changed their priorities from fancy diocesan conference centers to being part of the Christian family they could easily give 21%. I mean, Newark could probably have a nice new diocesan conference center if it only gave 8%. Lots of dioceses, dioceses which give sacrificially, could have better wages, nicer facilities, and big fancy miters for their bishops. But, they have different priorities. Their value is on belonging, contributing, being a part of something bigger.

I think this is really tacky of Texas. Besides that, I think it's spiritually dicey. And I am totally serious about that. But it's been going on for a long time and I don't give it much thought. But, I'll tell you something, I was caught up short when I read this in the diocesan newspaper:

Assessment payments have been the subject of a good deal of discussion at recent Executive Board meetings. In an effort to clarify their position and better understand the situation, the Executive Board has asked that those congregations who are more than 120 days in arrears with their assessment payments as of August 31, 2009, send their Head of Congregation and Wardens to attend the Executive Board's meeting on September 15 at Camp Allen. The leadership will be asked to explain the financial and stewardship issues that the congregation is facing.

August 19, first item, August 12, first item, August 5, first item , July 29, third item down

Now, it sounds like they are going to have some kind of a "Listening Process" regarding the payments which are in arrears. But, don't bet on it. If history holds, there'll be strong-arming and humiliation. I would like to think that maybe I am wrong on that but, you know, history...

So, the richest and stingiest diocese is now putting the heat on those from whom they wish to collect. Makes you go humm, doesn't it?

There's a story recorded in the Bible which you may remember. It's about a king, a high level bureaucrat, and one of the bureaucrat's peers. Let's call them The King, Lord Lucky, and Screwed Guy.

Lord Lucky was high up in the scheme of things, responsible for all that money and everything. (You can sometimes guess at the status of people in parables by the amount of money connected with them.) But, being powerful and everything wasn't enough for our man. Lord Lucky had aspirations to the throne and he made a bid to overthrow the king by refusing to pay up on his share of the takings. The king threatened to sell Lord Lucky and his family into the worst kind of slavery, which is what kings sometimes did when they took a mind to. But, Lord Lucky showed the proper remorse and pledged to pay up, proving that he did in fact have the money all along. It was an admission of fraud and a plea for mercy. Wisely, the king not only forgives the power play but the debt as well. He has bought increased loyalty from a well-placed retainer who now owes him his life.

But, that's not the end of the story. News travels fast in court, don't you know. Lord Lucky, having been chastened and having escaped within an inch of his life is also humiliated. He must reassert himself. So he immediately pounces on one of his peers, another retainer, probably not as highly placed. His name was Screwed Guy. So, anyway, he pounces on this poor guy for, I don't know, like 100 denari. And Screwed Guy can't pay. He's screwed.

Now, at this point you might think that Lord Lucky would have mercy on his peer, a guy who might even have been his friend. I mean, I would think that. But, I know the story. It continues on like this: Lord Lucky was enraged because, you see, he was unable to reassert his preeminence among his peers, it was sort of emasculating for him, another humiliation. So he threw his fellow bureaucrat in jail until he could pay the debt. Of course, he couldn't earn money while he was in jail so it became a way to extort money from the poor guy's family. Very nasty business, I tell you. Oh, and there was torture too.

And, I'll tell you what else happened. The other retainers, Lord Lucky's peers, turned on him. After all, they reasoned, if Lord Lucky could do this to Screwed Guy, he might do it to them too. The bureaucrats let slip to the king what had happened.

The king might have turned a blind eye. After all, it was Lord Lucky's job to help keep the coffers full and Lord Lucky did have a track record of success. That's why he had the big-time job to start with. The king might even have been amused since a little bickering among the literrati distracted them from their hobby of open graft. But, surprisingly the king was mad about it.

The thing is, it was never about the money. It was never even about loyalty. It was about the community, the kingdom.

Lots of kings in those days suffered from a little messianic ideation. There was a collective myth that the king was a good and humble man raised to the heights of power by acclamation of the common folk. Totally not true, of course. But, people liked believing this sort of thing. I think it made them feel that they had something to say about who ruled over them with an iron fist. It wasn't much. But, it was more than reality afforded. So, to perpetuate this kind of thinking, real kings sometimes forgave huge debts which benefited the whole community. These were true messianic acts, and the amount, hugely enormous, could only be forgiven by a true savior. That is, a truly benevolent king.

But, Lord Lucky didn't understand that.

See, there's no such thing as a personal relationship with the king. The king's only relationship is to the kingdom. So, by assuming that he'd been granted a personal beneficence, that there were no ramifications for the rest of the community, Lord Lucky missed the point entirely. And, of course, Lord Lucky is the one who winds up in a prison of his own making. And he will stay there forever too because the amount of his debt, unlike Screwed Guy's, is unpayable.

So, I tell you all this mainly because I enjoy telling a good story. But, also because there is a way of thinking that assumes that we are not all connected, it presumes the asking of General Convention to be somehow different from the asking a diocese makes to its parishes.

I am telling you that THE King, who has forgiven all, really does intend for that to trickle down to the whole kingdom.

As we deduced from the Matthean parable, it's not about the money. It's not even about loyalty and belonging. What it's about is the kingdom, the community. And if TEC has overlooked Texas' arrogance and stinginess, then Texas should overlook it in it's parishes.

=====

Those of you who are regular readers of this blog know that it is not a very well researched enterprise. Generally, I just sit down and start typing. If you want real news there are sites for that. Other sites. But, I do try to get it right for you. So, if I have presented as fact anything that is not true I would welcome your correction. And that goes for anything, anywhere, not just this piece. I am writing only from memory, I am only offering my opinions. You'll see that I often use words like "about," and "I think." That's because I think I am right but realize that my information may be dated. Or, possibly I am just wrong. If you think I need to amend anything, please let me know. Thanks.

2009-08-23T23:14:00.002-05:00

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

2009-08-23T19:19:00.001-05:00

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

2009-07-24T21:32:00.003-05:00

If you haven't heard of Andrew Ramer, you will. Here's a little something to get you started.

From our cool friends at Jewcy:

Queer Midrash
This is what I want to hear...

Don't tell me about the Shekhinah.
How God's female aspect
is a sacred part of our tradition.
The word "aspect" gives it all away.

Your Shekhinah is God's sidekick
chum
Purim drag costume.
She's His sad dark girlfriend
evicted from her Jerusalem apartment
by the Romans
and wandering ever since.

I don't want an Aspect in my prayers
not even that upgrade to First Class
Yah Shekhinah.
Yah is a masculine form
not the Tah Shekhinah that would
make it truly female.

This is what I want
and nothing less
if we really mean
that God isn't Male.
I want prayers to Her
that don't frighten us into thinking
"This is paganism. Heresy.
Something we've avoided for
two thousand years!"
I want Her presence to be felt
Her names to be called
Her blessings to be known
Just as His are.

I want:
May She who makes peace
in Her high heavens.
I want:
And on the seventh day She rested.
I want:
Holy Holy Holy
is the Lady of Hosts
the whole earth is full of Her glory.

I want new liturgy to Her
or I want us to throw out
everything stale and male and old.
I want generations of Jewish girls
and boys
to grow up hearing us pray to Her.
Creator
Sustainer
Mother of all.

I want us to bask in Her magnificence.
Her glory.
I want us to midrash Miriam
in the cleft of lightning-struck tree
as She flashes by
shining.
I want the cosmos to be Her challah
shaped and molded.
The universe her handiwork.
Her offspring
birthed from her Sacred Self
and never separate from It.

Is this too much to ask
of a tradition that has reinvented itself
over and over again
for three thousand years?
Not contracted fear
but expansion and open embrace.
Reverence.
Recognition.
That we see in Her
what we find in ourselves
and see mirrored in ourselves
what we find in Her:
One
Eternal
Ever-present
Creator of the Universe
Source of Life.
Our Mother
Our Comfort
Our God.

A Little Secret

2009-07-19T07:01:00.002-05:00

You want to know what I hear a lot? I hear people saying that the only way to change people's hearts and minds is to let them get to know you. Once they know a real live lesbian, the reasoning goes, they will magically become all queer-friendly and pleasant. It's the incarnational reality of the homo at home that'll win the day. That's what they say.

Unfortunately, it's bullshit.

I've spent a good deal of time and energy "being present" to homophobes, exposing myself to their careful scrutiny, trying to make the grade on behalf of all of us. But, here's what happens. They wind up liking me quite a lot. You, not so much.

Even hardened homophobes have learned to like me. I wear lipstick and act like a girl, after all. I'm not at all like the rest of you. And, I'm not making this up. That's pretty much what they say:

"We like YOU, Lindy. But..."

But, not those girley-men,

not those transexuals,

not those women in leather,

not Louie Crew and his feather boa,

or Susan Russell and her manish haircut.

No, we don't like them.
But, you, Lindy... you're a good homo. We like you.

That's what they say.

And often I counter that statement with a little statement of my own. I call it the I AM statement.

"I AM those people," I say.

I AM the flamingist queen,

I AM the butechest dyke.

I AM the most strident, the girliest, the queerest, gayest one of all.

I AM the one who frightens you. Yes, me.

I AM your worst nightmare. And, look, I'm not so bad."

I wish you could see the looks on their faces. They are utterly dunfounded. Why, after all, having been graced with their good favour, would I now identify myuself with that kind of person?

For all the crap I've put up with, no hearts have been moved, no minds changed. Sure, people like me. But, they won't fight for me, or for you whom they still do not like.

It's a loosing game, this business of winning people over with our gay charms. The fact of the matter is that while we may be tolerated, or even accepted, on an individual basis. They still won't have anything to do with us as a matter of justice, still don't see our cause rooted in the gospel, and only play along to amuse us when we dare to bring it up.

For me, I am no longer in the business of gaining acceptance from homophobes. I quit.
I AM who I AM.

2009-07-19T06:09:00.004-05:00

The Episcopal bishop of Texas has written to the diocese. I guess nobody told him that he's making an ass of himself and that he will eventually expend a great deal of energy back-peddling out of his neolithic Windsor musings. I am certainly not going to tell him because I don't care about his fat ass. But, here are just a few little gems from his post for those of you who still care:

These are from Bishop Doyle's blog post entitled "From Bp. Andy Doyle on Day 8." Clever title, eh?

...I believe the House of Bishops has in its power to make decisions and take actions through pastoral letters to the church without the House of Deputies.

...I shared with them my very clear commitment to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Windsor Process, and the Covenant Process.

Both resolutions (DO25 and CO56) will, I am most certain, place strain on the Anglican Communion. Reactions I've received support this belief. However, we need to give the communion time to respond, and we need to listen to our Archbishop as he speaks to us about his thoughts and reflections on the events of General Convention.
I am committed to the Windsor Report recommendations and process which include a moratoria on blessings and elections of partnered gay clergy to the office of bishop.

I am committed to the Covenant and a process.

... And, that you will know of my very clear intention to continue on the Windsor Path.

OK. There's so much wrong with this that I'm not even going to go into it. Most of the people who read my blog are smart enough to figure it out without my blatherings.

But, remember what I said several months ago about how whatever goes on at GC won't really matter because all the bishops will go back home and do whatever they want anyway? 'Member that? Because it does appear that I was spot on. And you thought I was just being a negative nellie...

Look, read the whole thing. That's why I gave you the link to it. And read Andy Baby's other musings. Don't just take my word for it. There's plenty of assyness there to be discovered by you too.

Behold the Princes of the Church!

2009-07-15T02:32:00.002-05:00

Some of you may have been wondering why I am less than enthusiastic about the goings on at General Convention. Well, take a look. These are the two clowns who run things in the Diocese of Texas. There's also Cowgirl Dena who, to the best of my knowledge, is not wearing headgear at this convention. Dena's a bag of dicks but she dresses well.

Bishop Doyle, that's the fat one, was once rumored to be a change-maker. "He's young," people said hopefully, as if that would also make him less of an asshole. It has not, by the way.

People were once hopeful about Bishop Wimberley too, remember? But, within months of Wimberley's election the kindest thing people were saying was "...disappointing." In the ensuing years he proved himself to be ham-handed and authoritian. Nobody really likes him except maybe a few bishop-ass kissers. But, even they have to know that Don Wimberley's has been a failed episcopate.

Now I am neither a prophet, nor am I the son of a prophet, but I predict that Andy Doyle is headed for the same kind of episcopate that Don Wimberley had. What makes me think that? Well, several things.

He was born in this diocese
He attended Episcopal schools in this diocese
He was called and ordained in this diocese
He has never served in any other diocese
He was canon to Don Wimberley
He has identified himself as a "Windsor Bishop"

On what planet would a guy like that be considered a change maker? It's more of the same.

You have heard me lament that at the end of General Convention the princes of the church go back to their little fiefdoms and do whatever they damn well please, regardless of any resolutions that are passed. And that is exactly what Cowboy Andy is doing.

Here's what he had to say about D025:

Bishop High, Bishop Harrison and I each voted against the resolution as we have been and continue to be concerned regarding the repercussions throughout the Anglican Communion. And we were concerned with the idea that DO25 repeals BO33 from the 2006 General Convention....

Which, of course, are the same bogus arguments that have been floating around out there since 2003. They weren't real arguments then and they aren't now. These are not-so clever excuses, and unlike in 2003, it is now clear that they are totally false. Our place in the communion is secure, and B033 remains invalid since it violates out canons.

Regarding B033, Andy says

The Diocese of Texas honors the moratorium not because of DO25 or BO33, but because of our belief that the teachings of the church on sexuality have not changed, that the Windsor Report asks the American church to refrain from election and ordination of a bishop who is living in a partnered relationship, from the development of rites for same sex blessings, and our own resolutions and canons currently have reaffirmed our views on the topic.

Do you want me to go over it for you?

1. By definition moratorium has a set ending point. Thus, until such time as a set end point is established, there is no moratorium. Maybe we should call it what it is, a bone-headed refusal to change.

2. One would not honor such a moratorium, if such existed, because of D025. One would do so in spite of it. Because of and in spite of are really two quite different things. I do hope someone will explain this to Bishop Doyle.

3. "The teachings of the church on sexuality have not changed..." What? Ever? I mean, I don't think you can get any dumber than that. But, there it is. From one of your princes.

4. The Windsor Report!!! Egads! The Windsor Report is not a canon, it's has no authority. Even those who worked on it have said that they did not understand our polity and have urged us to move forward. But Andy Doyle, like Don Wimberley before him, has has made it a part of his own identity. They are Windsor Bishops. And soon they will either have to back-pedal out of that identity or resign themselves to a place on the wrong side of history.

5. "...our OWN resolutions and canons..." In other words, we'll do whatever we want, Regardless.

So, there's all the hoop-la in Anaheim, moving past B033 and all that jazz, But, what do you think will really change here in the Diocese of Texas for gay and lesbian Christians? Do you think the trans community will feel the impact of the General Convention welcome here in Texas? What's your guess, would the standing committee of EDoT consent to a gay or lesbian bishop? You know the answers.

So, forgive me if I'm not caught up in the euphoria of the moment. I'm of the opinion that until ALL of us are welcome, none of us are truly welcome. Even you,,,

Another Bird Picture

2009-07-11T11:23:00.000-05:00

Because we love the little birds...

Another Dog Picture

2009-06-27T03:07:00.000-05:00

Another Bird Picture

2009-06-26T01:08:00.003-05:00

I've Got a Crush on Maimonides

2009-05-18T10:15:00.006-05:00

If you've been paying attention you know that I'm falling in love with Maimonides. So, when I saw a little biography at Half-Price Books I snapped it up.

Maimonides, or The Rambam, is one of the truly larger than life figures on the stage of world history. Between Moses and Moses there was none like Moses, goes the saying. The Jews have long accepted the near equality of Moshe ben Amram and Moshe ben Maimon, and for good reason. Just consider:

Both lived during a time of persecution,
Both lived in Egypt,
Both did miracles,
Both had siblings who were significant in their lives/survival,
Both had powerful ememies,
Both were close to the king,
Both were leaders of their people.

Thus, it's hard to understand why Sherwin B. Nuland focused almost exclusively on Maimoides' life as a physician.

I mean, it was interesting. I still recommend it. But, it seems like we can't really call it a biography, maybe a partial biography, or a refraction of a certain light. But, not a true biography.

One of the things I do like about the way Sherwin B. Nuland put the book together is that he spent as much time telling us about the things that influenced Maimonides as he did about what Maimonides himself said and did. And, while I knew a lot of what he told me, it was helpful to have it gathered up in this way and made part of one single story. I feel like I understand the times and the culture of Maimonides much better than I did before.

For example, there's this from the section on how ancient medicine merged with religion, and how the Hippocratic practitioners, along with the Jews, rejected such merging:

...but some of the leading practitioners of Hippocratic medicine saw the study of their art as a way of understanding the divine, just as the Jews did. And they went even further, Galen of Pergamon, the most imfluential physician who has ever lived, believed that the proper way to worship the Divinity is not with prayer and sacrifice but with experiment and observation. Late in the second century C.E., he described his greatest anatomical work, De Usa Partium, as "the sacred discourse which I am composing as a true hymn of praise to our Cereator." To him, learning about the body was the sure way to learn about the godhead. He wrote:
And I consider that I am really showing him reverence, not when I offer him unnumbered hecatombs of bulls and burn incense of cassia worth the thousand talents, but when I myself first learn to know his wisdom, power and goodness and then make them known to others. - 1

And this big discussion of Galen and his beliefs helped me understand how Maimonides thought about both science and religion. A few other little gems on that subject:

To them [Hypocratic practitioners] and to Maimonides, the physician's skills may have been God-given, but they were to be applied independently of any direct divine intervention. It is not a prayer that one should rely on when sick, he argued, but medical aid; the means of curing disease are provided by God, but "He has given wise and skillful men the knowledge of how to prepare and how to apply them." It is to these wise and skillful physicians that one should turn when disease strikes. - 2

And in his Discourse on Fits, written for Al Afdal (Fatimid vizier in Cairo) Maimonides said,

"Religion prescribes all that is useful and forbids all that is harmful in the next world; while the doctor indicates what is useful and warns against what is harmful in this world." - 3

Some have argued that this statement speaks to Maimonieds' life-long quest to integrate religion and science. But, when you stop to realize that such a dichotomy didn't really exist until later, and when you take into account the various other influences on Maiomonides, especially Galen and the Greek physicians, it starts to seem more and more like Maimonides was simply placating his patient, not trying to justify science to religion or vice versa.

I am glad to have gained a better understanding of this, and Maimonides' formation in this area for three reasons.

One - I just love him and want to know everything about him. Like a little girl, I have a crush on Maimonides. I admit it. And,

Two - It makes me think about worship and how silly it is to spend hours chanting, and praying, and staring at candles and then to go do something else. Because, it's not something else. If Bishop Rowan has taught us anything it's that every thing we do is worship. I think Maimonides got that, and it feels refreshing, and validating to me to hear him say it.

Three - Same thing in reverse. It makes me think about work in a different way. Maimonides helps me to see that we don't worship on the mountain or in the temple. We worship at work, at play, at home, with friends, in the car, all the time. Look, I will still light a candle this evening, and I'll kiss my icon, and I'll say my prayers. I did it just this morning too and prayed for many of you. We still do that, all of us. But, there's no big line marking off "holy" time from... let's call it "ordinary" time since that's coming up. These "times" to the extent that they exist at all are pretty much the same I think. And, it seems like Maimonides thought that too.

Despite the death of his brother, which left Maimonides depressed and in his bed for nearly a year, and the resulting financial crises in his family, Maimonides steadfastly refused to take money for his work as a rabbi.

Being committed to a principle that the talmudic sage Rabbi Zadok articulated with the words (later reiterated by Maimonides), "Make not of the Torah a crown wherewith to aggrandize thyself, nor a spade wherewith to dig") and also stated by the great Hillel, who said, "Whosoever derives a profit for himself form the words of the Torah is helping in his own destruction"), the scholars of that period and afterward rejected payment for their religious services and sought secular employment. - 4

Surprisingly, I am not going to go on one of my usual rants about the clergy. Instead, I want to talk about the many ways that even an imbecile like me can make a spade out of the Torah. In fact, I'd like to see some kind of multi-session study group on this because I think it would be very interesting. I am not going to give you all the answers. I don't have them anyway. But, I'll tell you what questions I'd like to explore:

What's the point of Torah study anyway?

What -- besides money/benefits -- can we acquire from Torah study? (knowledge, understanding, prestige, self-importance...)

How do those things (above) help/hinder us in knowing God?

See, lately I've seen quite a lot of people who are real impressed with all they know. And, they may actually know quite a lot. I don't know. But, what I do know it that the point of Torah study is not to be able to puff yourself up like some kind of puffy thing and be all big about it. That's not it. Jesus, you'll recall, was more of a humble guy. And he told us that if we want to know God, we should try to be like him. "Just look at me," he says. And you hardly ever see Jesus strutting around like a peacock.

Moses Maimonides could very easily have made a comfortable living from his Torah knowledge, his writing, and his judgments, the vast work he did on behalf of the Jewish people. But, he was absolutely committed to this idea that to benefit from Torah was its own destruction.

I don't have to worry about making a living from Torah, or the Bible. You all don't even want me in church, remember? But, like all of you, I want to be very careful that I don't accrue any little foxes of profit. Maimonides is a reminder to us that all we know came from God and belongs to the whole community. It is not our private information to dole out to those on whom we smile and to withhold from those whom we deem unworthy.

My rabbi once said that if you know something, and you refuse to teach it to others, you are steeling. I think he was right. In fact, that's the main reason I started my blog, lo these several years ago. I wanted a place to share the things I learned. I know, I know, it often turns into post after post about what I think about various things. But, once in awhile, I share something worth knowing too.

Regarding Torah itself, the Rambam was very clear that it's not to be taken literally.

"Literal interpretation, Maimonides believed, is only an adornment to attract those who are incapable of conprehending the comples truths that lie beneath. "Employ your reason," the Rambam exhorted those capable of doing so, "and you will be able to discern what is said allegorically, figuratively, and hyperbolicallym, and what is meant literally."" - 5

I don't know to what extent the Jews of today have this problem of literalists in their midst but it is a big problem in Christendom. I really do believe that we've got to stop being so very accommodating of these "differences" in thought and just call it what it is: childish nonsense.

Of course we have stories. How else can we speak of the ineffable? How else to communicate God's goodness and love to children? The stories help us see the unified whole of religion. They are very, very, good. But, they are not the literal truth of God once delivered to anybody.

Maimonides was concerned with preserving the faith of his people. And, given that it was under attack from many corners, that was a reasonable approach. But, he also understood that religion moves and changes. The temple sacrifices had been abandoned, he argued, because the people had grown up, matured, and the sacrifices were no longer needed. Maimonides understood Rabbinic Judaism to be a new paradigm, and that there would be others as well.

Like a primitive people, we too may have been attracted to stories and myths of our religion. We use them to teach children and the simple minded, we think about them because they contain the seeds of truth. But, they are not the truth itself.

Maimonides often used charms or rituals in his healing. He knew the value of the placebo effect well. And to be healed by placebo is no less healing than to be healed by medicine. But, the doctor knows that the medicine, the stuff of health, is in the application, not in the charm. So it is with the actual words in Torah. If we apply the truth well, we can enjoy the stories without placing ourselves in the position of being anti-science. Maimonides, and his times, show us that science and religion are compatible. Rightly understood, they don't ever contradict. They just don't. But, I suppose this will remain perplexing for the literal minded. ;)

I want to read more from Maimonides. Not sure I am ready to tackle the Mishna Torah. But, maybe. I don't know. I am taking recommendations from the audience. What's your favorite Maimonides book? What should I read next?

______________________________________

1 - Sherwin B. Nuland, Maimonides (New York: Shocken Books, a division of Random House, 2005), p. 7, 8.

2 - Ibid, p. 177

3 - Ibid, p. 210

4 - Ibid, p. 12

5 - Ibid, P. 134

2009-05-13T13:03:00.011-05:00

Now that Rowan has posted about his day at the beach, let me tell you what it was like from my perspective.

As soon as the Sun was up Rowan was ready to go. He must have brought me his leash a dozen times before I even got out of bed. Thus, I didn't take time for my own breakfast and, frankly, I was barely dressed when we got out the door.

Rowan woofed down his Flint River Ranch. He did not chew each bite fifty times, I'll tell you that. He went back and forth between his new bandanna and his gay pride bandanna, finally settling on the former.

By the time we got to the beach I was starving. Rowan was wiggling. Despite his joyful anticipation I made a stop at the Jetty Shack, a Surfside bar and grill, more bar than grill, near the jetty.

I ordered a sandwich and much needed Soda. Took a bowl of water to the dog who looked at me ruefully and unappreciatively. Honestly, what does he want? Human food?

After a nice meal -- really, you can't beat the Jetty Shack -- and a visit with the waitresses who report that it's getting too expensive to live in Surfside, I used the facility. As you can see it was...

well supplied

And, oh so tastefully appointed.

The Jetty Shack anticipates it's customer's every need... fancy, eh?

I scoff but the truth is, I love the place. Just like I love Surfside, and the beach, and really all the swampy mess of southern Brazoria County.

I am proud to say that the little bishop had very good behavior. He did roll on some stinky stuff, and I guess I just have to live with that. But, otherwise, he was a dreamy little dog.

I was lucky to find a cocoanut on the beach. It wasn't good for eating, which I figured when I saw it. But, that didn't stop me from picking it up and taking it home. It was very stinky inside, just so you know.

We also drove by my brother's place to see if anyone was home. They weren't. The place looks good, though, doesn't it. New HardiPlank, and all.

All Surfside has been sprucing up since the hurricane. Surfside is not like New Orleans. Surfside is rebuilding. Better. Without FEMA.

After running and playing for awhile we came home and took a nap. You can see why I don't deny this little dog anything. He is really a living vision of true love and unbounded joy. His attention is steadfast, his loyalty sure. There's nothing like this dog, that's for sure.

2009-05-12T21:44:00.005-05:00

Carrie Prejean is The Devil. There. I said it. And, lemme tell you, it needed saying. You want me to tell you why? Because you know I'm going to.

First Carrie Prejean, who is The Devil, said that she did not win the Ms. America contest because she is not in favor of marriage equality. Well, that's just not true. If her second-place status is due in any part to her answer on marriage equality, it was not because she failed to give the answer Perez Hilton would have liked. It's because her answer was wrong.

Here are her exact words:

"Well, I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one or another. Um, we live in a land that you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage. And, you know what? In my country and in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there, but that's how I was raised and that's how I think that it should be—between a man and a woman. Thank you!"

Let's just break that down into smaller pieces. First there's this: "Well, I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one or another. Um, we live in a land that you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage..." No kidding. That's what she said. American's have a choice. Americans can choose same-sex marriage, or "opposite marriage." Hummm. That's news to me because we don't have marriage equality in my state, nor do we have marriage equality in any adjacent state, nor in any of the states adjacent to them. In fact the nearest place I could marry the woman I love is Iowa which is four states and about 850 miles away. Maybe it's just me, and I surly do not want to be one of those difficult lesbians, but that doesn't seem like much of a choice to me.

And, I'll tell you something else. You knew I would. Even if I went all the way to Iowa, and if I somehow found a woman who would agree to marry me, and if we actually got married, even then, there are over ELEVEN HUNDRED federal rights and benefits from which I'd still be excluded. So, really, not only does that not seem like much of a choice, it makes Carrie Prejean, who is The Devil, wrong... just plain wrong.

But, of course, the good news is that Ms. Prejean didn't mean to offend anyone. She actually said that. Here it is:

No offense to anybody out there,..."

Nice touch, don't you think? I have three things to say about that:

1. Bigotry is offensive. It doesn't really matter much if you want it to be or not. It just is. Nice people agree on this.

2. Saying that she doesn't intend to be offensive did not magically make the answer correct. It's still wrong. There is no choice.

3. It is disingenuous to claim that you don't want to be offensive and then continue to be offensive. Based on more recent statements, I don't think Carrie Prejean cared one wit about whether or not she offended anyone.

That seems like a flat-out lie to me. And we all know who the Father of Lies is. That's right, The Devil.

After the Ms. America Pageant, Carrie Prejean went on the James Dobson Tee Vee Show and claimed that she had been tempted by The Devil. Who else?

If you don't believe me, and I totally understand if you don't, here's a link to it. She actually said that The Devil tempted her to give a namby-pamby answer. But then, " God was in my head and in my heart saying, "Do not compromise this. You need to stand up for me..."

When I read that, I heard God in my head... Oh, wait... never mind. It was just one of the voices.

But, seriously, you know what? I'm OK with that. People have their own relationship with God and I don't want to get into that. It's for everybody to work out for themselves. I am not even going to get into it, and you all (mainly) are smart enough that you don't need me to parse it out for you.

The telling thing, though, is that she doesn't really seem to care whether or not she was offending anyone. It sounds to me like once she decided on the man/woman answer she no longer really cared about anything else. I think she knew that her answer was offensive and just didn't care. I wish she would just tell the truth about that.

After she went on James Dobson and displayed her nutty and dualistic theology in front of all the world, Carrie Prejean wrapped herself in the flag claiming that she had been punished for exercising her right to free speech. "This should not happen in America," she opined. There were almost tears in her eyes. But, guess what? It didn't happen in America. If she's been punished for exercising her undisputed right to free speech then I am Ms. America. It just didn't happen. She wasn't punished. Didn't happen.

The reason Carrie Prejean didn't win the Ms. America is because her answer was wrong.

The other reason Carrie Prejean didn't win is because she made people, lots of people, boo. That's never happened during a pageant before. Ms. America is supposed to be Ms. America for all Americans, not just the bigots. It seems like if people are booing, that's a good sign that you aren't Ms. America material. Just me.

After the pageant, Carrie Prejean crafted her image to appeal to a certain brand of Christians, Republicans, anti-choicers, marriage bigots, misogynists, and patriots. You've got to hand it to her, that somehow includes just about everyone. The future looks bright... and lucrative. But, I tell you, this woman is The Devil. Write down the date so you can remember when you first heard it, Carrie Prejean is The Devil.

Sweeny Pride Day

2009-05-02T20:27:00.006-05:00

This is the day we observe the most sacred feast of Sweeny Pride Day. I can't tell you when Sweeny Pride Day started, and I most certainly can't give you any reason for its existence. I have my doubts as to whether or not this information is even available. In any event, like the trinity, the nature of Christ, and the smoky undertones of PokeE Joe's BBQ sauce, I am unable to explain it.

What I do know is that on the first weekend in May, come rain or come shine, the good citizens of Sweeny have a festival. Most years there is a little carnival too. And, in the old days, when I was a kid, there was a circus. I wish we still had the circus. I liked the circus.

You know it's a special day because the shops had sales. They are mainly re-sale shops. I sometimes wonder why anyone in Sweeny ever buys anything new. It seems like with all the re-sale shops in town we should be able to just trade for whatever we need or want. I have some lights in my study, for example, that Mrs. Narin gave me. It was a good trade. Only I didn't give her anything back. But, if she ever wanted anything of mine. Shoot, I'd probably give it to her.

Last night I posted some photos of the little carnival. The carnival isn't getting much business. I think the $4 per ride price tag is keeping people away. We are not an affluent community, after all. In any event, I doubt that people are staying away in protest of the giving of live animals as prizes. There's no PETA chapter here. Not many protests either.

Some of you may never have seen a real live small town, least ways not one way down here south of the Mason Dixon Line. This place has slave blood in its soil, and the complexities of white guilt and black pride that come with it. On my way to Houston, I pass by at least three former plantations. And, by plantation, I mean a place that had slaves on it. I am not dealing in abstractions. There's the Levi Jorden just up the road, the Mims Plantation a little further up, and the Abner Jackson Plantation over in Lake Jackson.

Several years ago, when I was a student at the illustrious Sweeny High School, I thought it was enough to simply not be a racist. I have learned a lot about race, being an outsider, and bigotry since then. I've read a little more of the Bible and spent some time on The Mount, as in Sermon On The Mount. I know better. You know, now. I wish I had been a better advocate for my black friends in High School. In my defense, I was only a kid. I truly didn't know. And, during the teenage years, a little ignorance can be forgiven.

I don't think it's so easily dismissed when we are older though. Shouldn't we be putting away childish excuses? Yet, let me tell you what I noticed this afternoon when I downloaded my photos. First there was a cluster of white people, then eight or ten shots or black people, then more white people, then a cluster of black people. So, despite the fact that I've created a slideshow which reflects the diversity I'd like to show. The reality is that as I walk

ed through the festival I was essentially walking through a segregated park. It was a stark reminder to me that in Sweeny we still have a long way to go.

Some of what you may believe about small

town America is true.

We have the Second Amendment, for example. And, as you can see, we are proudly passing it on to future generations. Even I own a gun. Yeah, I do. I didn't take it to Pride Day, though.

Sweeny is not a center of academia, nor do we do innovative liturgy, and there are no theological controversies to discuss. The theological spectrum is so narrow that it seems like all the Christians should just form one big church. They all believe pretty much the same things: God is angry about sin, Jesus will save you with his magic blood, atonement is a mere theory... there's about four of them there spiritual laws. I get lost around about number two.

The people you'll be seeing aren't the movers and shakers of the world. They are the workers and the doers. They teach school, refine petroleum, and shop at Wal-Mart. This is where life meets the road. And look at them... they are shining. Look at their faces, so full of life.

We are somewhat removed from the cutting edge down here. The hair is from the eighties, and some of the thinking is too. I saw a Pallin/Jindel/2012 bumper sticker yesterday. Seriously. Oh well, I heard on The History Channel that the world was going to end in 2012 anyway.

Despite everything, though, I think these people are beautiful. So full of energy. There's divinity in each eye.

Maybe just getting together to remind ourselves how beautiful we all are is reason enough for this day. Happy Pride everyone. Make a feast all you beautiful people. Happy Sweeny Pride Day!

There are a couple shots of the little bishop at the end.

I added some photos after the initial posting.

And I found one typo that was SO blood awful that I HAD to correct it

and so i published yet again... Sorry for so many updates.

If I'd update my blog more often maybe I'd get the hang of it.

Sweeny Pride Day Carnival

2009-04-30T21:44:00.002-05:00

Here are a couple of snaps I took this evening at the Sweeny Pride Day carnival. The festivities are in Chick Anderson Park, at the end of Main Street, in sparkling downtown Sweeny. See you there.

Traducianism - The Word For The Day

2009-04-22T22:59:00.002-05:00

The Theological Word For The Day is one I'd never heard before. And I am still not sure how to pronounce it. Read the definition, though, and you'll see why I am not likely actually say the word out loud anyway.

Traducianism
Lat. tradux, “a shoot” or “sprout”

The theological position in anthropology which argues that God creates the soul indirectly through the parents as he does the body. Trudicianists believe that their is a distinction between the material (body) and immaterial (soul/spirit), but they do not believe that they are created through two separate acts of creation. They believe that the immaterial is created in and with the material. Therefore, for the traducianist, there is never a time when the body is without a soul. Traducianist argue against “anthropological creationism”which asserts that God creates the immaterial (soul/spirit) directly and then places it in the material body at or sometime after conception. Traducianists believe that God ceased from ex nihilo (”out of nothing”) creation on the sixth day and since then all creation is done indirectly. Traducianists also argue that a belief in “anthropological creationism” evidences gnostic or dualistic leanings, implying that the body is a lesser entity than the soul.

Read about how this subject relates to abortion

Of course you all won't have to click on the link to see how it relates to abortion. That sort of thing is for people who need to have things explained to them a step at a time. It's evident already to the rest of us.

You know, this view is not exactly in the Bible. It's certainly not the Hebrew view of things. Sometimes I just wonder who makes this stuff up.

Furthermore, it seems like this should have shown up in the Anthropological Word Of The Day box and not the Theological Word Of The Day. Not to be picky. Just saying. OCICBW.

Anyway, it's a word I didn't know. Maybe you don't know it either. I think the best thing about it is that you can use it to scare fundamentalists. They hate big words.

The Squirrels

2009-04-22T16:06:00.005-05:00

I knew you'd want proof of this. The squirrel is now hanging upside down and eating from the bird feeder.

I have given up on any kind of alternative for the squirrels. They want to eat from the bird feeder.

Occasionally another squirrel will approach and then there's a lot of squirrel noise and one of the other of them runs off. I can't tell which. They all look alike to me.

Once in awhile an actual bird shows up.

2009-03-30T23:32:00.003-05:00

I have often said that you can tell a lot about a person by spending time with their dog. I really do believe that.

I know a man who does foster care for German Shepherd rescues. He's brilliant at it, and loves doing it too. He keeps dogs which have special needs; either they were abused, or they have some other issue requiring great care. Over the time I've known him, he has cared for three dogs. Each took on a nearly identical character. They played and ran with abandon, loved to cuddled, and were almost insatiably curious. Of course, these are traits that you expect from all German Shepherds. But, his have these traits uniformly.

I know of another family which has a German Shepherd. It never plays. It's always on guard and frequently growls, even at me. The owners are defensive and suspicious by nature. They are closed. Once the wife deigned to show me some of her art collection and I remember thinking that it was the first real conversation we'd had. Ever. Come to think of it, she sometimes emits a low-level growl too.

I know a woman who is guardian to a beautiful Standard Poodle. She is bright, stubborn, and oppositional. Am I talking about the dog or the woman? Both. Truly.

One interesting question is whether we choose pets which reflect our own character traits or whether our pets naturally pick them up?

A better question, better for me anyway, is what does my own dog's behavior say about me? He is a self-important little man, isn't he? Always running around the backyard doing important duties. Oh, he's most impressed with himself, he is.

But, he was a stray, you know. And, I often see in his eyes a little insecurity. Am I really lovable? he wants to know. My dog, so beautiful, so smart, such a great dog, can't get past his past. He's had hours, hours totaling days, of me petting him and telling him that he is good and wanted. But, it's hard for him.

Earlier this evening someone asked me to tell them what I did today. It was such a boring list of little tasks. Going through this spreadsheet. Writing a Big Memo. Phone calls. Ick! Am I just running around in the backyard of my own self-importance doing my duties?

I have quit this soul-killng work so many times I can't count them. But, I always come back because... cha-ching! Because I can't face my past without the venere of self-importance than money gives me. That's the naked truth of it.

I am a dog.

So, anyway, if I haven't put you totally off the idea, pay attention to what your dog might be saying about you.

2009-03-30T21:03:00.002-05:00

Corinth Baptist Church in Magee, Mississippi was destroyed by a tornado last Thursday. If you're real interested, you can read about it here. Maybe it's because I'm not much of a Christian, but I was not all that interested. I did have one thought: There was probably a gay in there. It's always the gays you know. It's hard to believe that God, who directly controls these things, would destroy a perfectly good building if there weren't a gay or two in there. I wish I felt a little more compassion for the congregation. I was raised by Baptists, you know. But, I don't.

And, of all the beauty and good in this world, why am I posting this? Because Iam feeling fed up with stupidity in the name of God. I am tired of being blamed for decling church attendance and all manner of natural disasters. Tell the truth, I am tired of being gay.

Or, maybe I'm just tired...

2009-03-26T13:00:00.002-05:00

And, it's another bird picture. This little fellow visits me regularly. There are several others too, male and female. Plus, some little birds too. They are just outside my window and I hear them whenever I am reading or working. I sometimes wonder what the chirps mean. Maybe they are calling to one another, "Hey, food over here...." But, probably not. A little anthropomorphic license please.

These little birds are everywhere. There's a river just, I don't know, maybe a hundred yards from here. Very wild. Yet, for their ubiquity, not even one of these little birds falls down but that God doesn't know about it. And, one presumes that if God knows God also cares.

I am thinking that if God is concerned for them, I should be too.

If God cares so much for little wild feathery things, shouldn't I take more care with the big-brained mammalian things in my own life? The birds make me want to be more gentle with others, and to walk a little lighter on the planet.

2009-03-19T18:38:00.002-05:00

As long as I am in bird-posting mode I think I'll show you this one I took at Surfside last week. I had a little old bread I took out and gave to the gulls.

Bread is not very good for them so I stopped at a bait stand and bought some bait shrimp too. Gulls love 'em. I knew I would enjoy getting a closer look at the birds. None were willing to take food from my hand so I had to throw it to them. Good little catchers.

I thought about the haigographical image of birds bringing food to humans. God always provides...

I am very into nature these days. Maybe because of Spring. Maybe the recent drought was resonate. I don't know. But, I've been noticing things lately.

2009-03-19T00:59:00.002-05:00

I saw this hawk last week and thought it was so spectacular that I just had to take a picture.

This is just a few miles inland from Sargent Beach. Sargent is primarily a fishing community but there are lots of beach walkers too.

I watched the hawk for a long time. He even flew a lap around the field I was in. Hunting probably. He seemed so alert, aware of even the thinnest scent in the air.

Truly, a marvel.

2009-03-09T22:50:00.004-05:00

You know, I was over on the You Tube and I was looking for a very funny Purim video for you all. In the course of that... and there are no funny Purim videos, btw... I found this:

And, because there was no one around to share this profound thought with I thought to myself, Why in the Hell aren't we doing this in church?

I mean, really? Why not?

I had a Sunday School class do it once as part of a series I taught on the Roger Ferlo book, Opening The Bible. I was illustrating the different contexts in which we read the Bible and making some points about something or another along the way. Thing is, people loved it. They had never experienced reading the Bible together in that way. It was great.

What about if we did ALL the mitzvot of Purim? None of them are anti-Christian or anything.

By isolating Christian practice from the Hebrew culture that spawned it we essentially gut it of meaning, and we've removed most of the fun too. Where's the fun in religion, that's what I want to know. What? Only the Jews are allowed to have fun?

Without going too deeply into my theology of drag, just let me say that I'd like to dress up like a princess or a king once in awhile and drink until I can't tell my enemies from my friends. And I think that might be a good idea for some of the rest of you too.

Imagine gathering all your friends and enemies, throw in some annoying and stupid people too, and everybody hear The Megillah together with a grager in one hand and a beer in the other. Then dance to klezmer music until you all fall down from exhaustion. Drink until you love one another, however long that takes. Tomorrow we can get back to our disagreements but tonight -- even if we have to get drunk to do it -- let's be friends and dance.

There is so much to say about Purim that I am not even going to try. You all can work out your own salvation on it. But, for the love of Esther, have yourself some fun!

הבה נגילה

And, because I love you, you know I do... and I say this as a person who has been dringing ever since I realized it was Purim... I do love you... I am also giving you this likttle gem.

Love and peace...
an L'Chaim! and lobe.

Blog News

2009-03-09T19:39:00.002-05:00

I have updated the sidebar with a new Special Feature and a new quiz.

The Special Feature is a daily joke. We all need some humor just now and, to be totally honest, I was getting a little carried with the snow ball game.

The quiz will tell you something about your theology. Initially I chose a quiz that told you which theologian you were most like but I scored Paul Tillich and quickly decided on something that would put me in a more favorable light.

I thought about taking down the Theological Word For The Day because sometimes I don't think the definitions are very good. I remember being especially disappointed in the definition for Anglican. But, sometimes I learn something I didn't know before. And you all are smart enough to know what's what on that.

Fran reminds us that it's Purim so get out your gragers. Lent can wait!

2009-03-09T17:52:00.003-05:00

Last week, in the comments section of this blog, someone said that they weren't feeling particularly loved by God. And, you know what? Sometimes we just don't feel the love, do we? Me too sometimes.

But, do you want to know what I tell the kids about saying The Shema? You know we say or sing the first line clear and strong: Sh'm Yis'ra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad... But, when we get to the next line, it's almost a whisper... Sssssssssh. Real quiet now: Barukh shem k'vod malkuto l'olam va'ed. And the kids will sometimes cup their hands over thier mouth to show that they are saying it real quietly. It's so cute. But, anyway, reason we do that kind of silly thing is to remind us that sometimes we feel that HaShem is near, as near as our voice! And sometimes we feel that HaShem is so far away we can hardly hear Her at all. But, God is still the same either way... still one God, still the king of a glorious realm, and still longing for all our love.

We all sometimes feel the love more, and sometimes feel it less. Personally, I wish it were more. But, either way, each one of us is loved by Love itself. And the love alone is enough.

Just Watch...

2009-03-09T13:15:00.001-05:00

Big hat tip to Ann at What the Tide Brings In and Green Lent.

Thought For The Day

2009-03-05T10:51:00.000-06:00

"Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful."

~~Buddha

Gotta love that Buddha man. H/t to Jan at Yearning For God.

What I Saw Today

2009-03-04T23:13:00.004-06:00

I used to actually have a blog called that: What I Saw Today. You can still see it on the internets. It helped me be more aware of the things I saw, look more closely, find beauty in the ordinary. I sometimes feel like doing that blog again.

Anyway, I saw a Roseate Spoonbill the other day and I wanted to tell you all about it. I've heard that they are pretty common around here but I always think it's special when I see one. So unexpected.

Actually, until I started looking for an image, I called them Pink Spoonbills. Roseate is the proper terminology. You know, according to the computer.

So, I wanted you all to see this because I think they are pretty.

Of course, nature is full of surprises and I suppose we shouldn't favor one beautiful miracle over another. But there is something magnificent about them, isn't there?

2009-03-04T17:00:00.003-06:00

Lent is not going well. Not well at all.

Maybe it was the lack of pancakes, or the absence of any real ashes in my life. Or it could be my hard heart. Which do you think? Pancakes, ashes, hard heart... Not too hard to figure out, is it?

I tell you my hatred of the church grows with every holiday that I am left outside. And I do mean to say that I hate it. True hate, not hate relative to, oh, I don't know.... say, broccoli. I hate it. I hate it mainly because I love it. And if any of you can figure that one out then you're one up on me.

Of course I could go into any church I wanted and there is an almost 100 percent chance that I wouldn't be escorted out. Even an Episcopal church. But, could I do it without my heart breaking? That's the question.

I have been very disquieted lately. It's beyond annoyance, more than an irritation. And, I can't even say what it's about. I am just deeply unsettled. Something is wrong.

I am also angry. Really mad. I mean, if you think the young woman who threw her body across Pennsylvania Avenue to protest the administration's AIDS policies was mad... honey, you should see me now. Just add on to that anger and grief twenty years of being a good homo, twenty years of being polite, twenty years of pretending that evil is just another policy position. I've had twenty or more years of being good. I am really not sure how much longer I can do it.

I thought that as I got older I'd see more shades of gray, that I'd be more tolerant of dissent, even a little bit jolly about it. But, it is not turning out like that. I have less and less tolerance for homophobia, racism, and stupidity in general. I just about punched an old man the other day for telling me a racist joke. Me! I don't even kill mosquitoes and I was thinking that I ought to belt that guy. An old man.

See, something is wrong.

I had hoped that if I sat down and started writing that I would come up with a decent blog post but it is now apparent that it's not happening. I did promise a post on honoring your parents a few weeks back so maybe I'll do that later. I have found that if church doesn't want me, at least the blog world does. I need to blog to feel connected. I think I also promised a post about some saint. I believe he was being persecuted by his sister-in-law or something like that. Hummm, wonder why THAT resonates?

Apparently I am going to have a busy evening of interruptions. I am having a big garage sale tomorrow and there is quite a lot more involved than I realized when I lightly made the suggestion. The experience of preparing for the garage sale is a very good incentive for me not to acquire so much stuff in the future.

And, there it is again... time for me to go put out signs. Who knew you had to do that?

An Irritation

2009-02-22T09:16:00.000-06:00

I want to talk to you about the oft misused phrase "first and foremost..." Indeed, some things can be both first and foremost. I suspect, though, that most are either first or they are foremost.

If you are not an offender then you can stop reading and go on and do something interesting. But, if you are, then here are some guidelines to help you sort through it all:

First is the first of several things. So, if you are talking about the first thing on the list, that thing is first. You call that first.

Foremost is the most important of several things. So, if you are going to make your big point, then that is the foremost thing regardless of whether you say it first, last, or somewhere in the middle. You call that foremost.

If you only have one point to make, it is neither first nor is it foremost. So, don't use that phrase, OK?

Obviously, you may wish to make your foremost point first. Then, and only then, is it first and foremost.

I know I am being hugely weird about that. But, it bugs me. I do appreciate your indulgence.

"I permit no woman to teach..."

2009-02-18T11:27:00.003-06:00

OK. Is it just me? Because I've noticed that almost no one has anything to say about yesterday's readings. Usually I run across at least one post a day that addresses the readings for that day. Often it's just in passing. But, yesterday? Silencio.

Just to refresh your memory let's hit some of the high points:

From I Timothy 1:18-2:8

9... the women should dress themselves modestly and decently in suitable clothing, not with their hair braided, or with gold, pearls, or expensive clothes, 10. but with good works, as is proper for women who profess reverence for God. 11. Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. 12. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent. 13. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; 14. and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. 15. Yet she will be saved through childbearing, provided they continue in faith and love and holiness, with modesty.

These, of course, are the verses that get our goats. And these are the verses that the fundagelicals love to exploit in justification of their mysogynist ways. And to be fair to the fundies, that IS what it says. The words.

There are lots of ways to approach the words in the Bible. You can read about all that in books. Three are lots of ways on that and lots of books about it. But, I find there are two main ways of approaching the Bible itself.

Some people treat it like a book, and, of course, they read it in one of the many ways that people do.

Or, it's more of an icon, a presence. It reveals different things at different times, different things to different people. It has multiple meanings, some of which even seem contradictory.

The basic difference in these approaches is that in the first instance the Bible is a mere book, something to study, and it is dead. In the second, it's alive. You don't have to guess which one I am for.

So, I think we have to look past the words on the page and ask the Bible what it is actually saying to us. Moreover, we want to know what it is saying today, and how it applies to our own lives. And the very first thing I want to know about these verses is what in the H-E-double toothpicks was the writer thinking?

I'll tell you what I think. I think it was starting to look like Jesus was going to tarry awhile longer than initially expected. There was no more communal property, no more looking into the sky each day. Jesus was taking his time about returning. Some believers had even died. A few had even died on account of their faith. Yes, persecution was a'brewing. I don't think our letter writer was thinking about theology at all. I think he was thinking about survival.

So, the writer steps back from the precepts of kingdom living: Gone are the days of no more male and female, slave or free, all that. Now we begin talking in the language of Roman virtues. Prudence (moderation) and restraint. And we start to see more concern that we should all fit into the accepted social order. Wives obey. Women don't be quite so loud. We obey our leaders, our Lords. The patri/heirarchy is back.

But, what is all that saying?

Well, again, I am going to tell you what I think. I think that the Bible is telloing us that culture really does influence the church and that sometimes it's a good idea. I think that it's giving us permission to be real about our circumstances and to adapt.

I am not saying that we should all become slaves of cultural fashion. You all know me better than that. But, what I am saying is that I can see an example, right here in the Bible, of culture influencing the church and, hey, the sky didn't fall.

The prevailing culture has done it many times since: Clerical celibacy, divorce, re-marriage, women, even hats... it all goes back and forth. I think the writer of I Timothy is just being real about the culture he's in and doing his best to protect his fledgling flock.

What I want to know is why we seem so unable or unwilling to do the same. I am not going to prattle on any more about it. I just want to say that this business about culture wars is bogus. It just keeps the bigots and religious know-it-alls in business and it's time for it to stop.

The Real Truth About Gay Marriage

2009-02-17T21:46:00.001-06:00

Because I want you all to be informed...

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Mass. Hysteria

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Funny Political News
Joke of the Day

2009-02-04T00:26:00.003-06:00

Look. My Amaryllis is about to bloom. It won't be long now. It has been eager to grow. The directions said I should plant in February. But, a couple weeks ago, it sprouted so I figured I'd better get it in some dirt. Now here it is, grown all straight and tall, about to burst forth.

My dogs and my plants all seem to know what to do. My pig did too. Even the occasional cow, wandered over from the neighbors, seemed to do just what I wanted. -- There was this one incident but it's not relevant.

Overall, it seems like nature knows what to do. Dogs bark, pigs oink, flowers grow. There's something in their DNA that tells them what to do. Even cows stomping through the garden are only doing what comes naturally to them.

For me, it's not so easy. Even if I had magic DNA that directed my every move, there's still the constant thinking about it. What to do next, where to live, how to spend my time. Does my own life, this little thing called me, even have any meaning? And, if it does, how do I know? Can I be sure that it's not all, well, a mere puff?

So self-important. I am so longing to matter. I am afraid that when I die no one will know that I have been here. And, yet, isn't that kind of the point? We know that this world was never meant to be more than a Ferris Wheel ride. But, we want to matter. I mean, I do.

Thy will be done, we plead in the Our Father. For we know that the will of God is to save, the plan is that none of us should perish. But, we are perishing, and weak, and dumb. And, really, what are our little lives for? So, we plead, Thy will be done, don't let it be for nothing that I am here working and trying, failing and trying again. Don't let it be for nothing, don't let me live in vain. Do your will and save me.

Blessedly, the last word of this famous prayer is Amen. We tend not to think about that word too much. Laziness, I imagine. But, we don't have to do all the thinking ourselves. I like what the Heidelberg Catechism says about it. Amen, it says, has more to do with the assurance that God will respond, even though our praying has been inadequate.

Well, if I weren't such a lazy blogger, I'd look it up for you.

Here you go:

It's Question 129. What doth the word "Amen" signify?:

"Amen" signifies, it shall truly and certainly be: for my prayer is more assuredly heard of God, than I feel in my heart that I desire these things of him.

It's never really about the praying. It's in knowing that we have been heard, that we are in relationship, that we do have a place and it is right here because this is the place where God listens.

It's really astounding when you think about it. God listens to... other gods?...angels? ...saints? ...Abraham? No. God listens to us. When I think on this, I sometimes think that Amen, all by itself, is a pretty near perfect prayer.

It's reaching out, without prescribing answers.

It says that I know your will has been done, that it is being done now, that that it shall forever be done in increasing perfection. It is implied that because I am here, that is God's will. Otherwise, I wouldn't be.

The Reformers may think I am taking liberties. And I am. Be sure of that, I am taking liberties. But, the Reformers are not here and you knew what to expect when you clicked over.

Amen takes all the insecurities, doubts, unconfessed sin, and general blabbedy-ness that I come to God with and says, "Even in in all this inadequacy, I know, I know for sure, even without evidence, that I belong. That my life, though small and hard and short, is not in vain. I know for sure, because You listened."

Amen.

An actually good article about "Amen."

The Friend Award

2009-01-29T06:06:00.002-06:00

A few weeks ago, like two or something, I got the friend award. Thanks for giving me that. Being a good friend, even a blog friend, is something I value.

So, I've been thinking about who to pass the award on to. I am giving it to a whole class of people, and you pretty much have to judge for yourself whether or not you are in it.

For one thing it only goes to straight people. No homos need apply. And it goes to those straight people who have taken it upon themselves to really understand the gay experience. There are a couple of you lurking around here.

If I were a straight woman. Alright now, stop giggling... If I were, I don't know if I would have done the work to figure out any alternative sexualities, I doubt seriously that I would have made it a cause.

It is all to easy to say, Well that's not really my issue. I would very likely have been too involved with whatever had my attention at the moment to give much thought to it. And that is why I think it's so extraordinary that straight people join the struggle and do the work.

I like to imagine that I would have been like some of you: concerned about justice, reading the gospels through the eyes of the marginalized, passionate about bringing all God's children to the table. But, I don't know... I think I am passionate about those things because they impact my own issues so closely. But, I see you out there. I see you, and I am learning from you.

So, this award goes to my straight friends, the ones who brook no compromise and take on all injustice as if it were their own cause. I am thankful for your passion, and I am thankful that I know you.

2009-01-29T05:54:00.003-06:00

I am not sure if I am supposed to put this on FaceBook or email it to people or what... So, I am jut putting it here.

I got tagged for the 25 things about you meme. So, here they are, in no particular order:

1. It is 365 days until my next birthday,
2. Like many of you, I drink too much Diet Coke.
3. I generally prefer to be alone.
4. I am not a morning person.
5. I am easily and quickly bored.
6. I might be overly fastidious in my personal hygiene.
7. I have poor self esteem.
8. I once met Janet Jackson. It did not go well.
9. I have lived on both coasts.
10. I let my dog sleep on the bed.
11. I collect miniature metal buildings.
12. I don’t like shopping. Shopping is not a hobby.
13. I have all kinds of friends,
14. I like chamber music, especially if there’s a harpsichord.
15. My new favorite wine is Yellow Tail. I change favorites every couple of months.
16. I am as devoted as I can be to the Blessed Mother Mary.
17. I have a fairly decent collection of original art, several Texas artists.
18. I save bicentennial quarters, Not sure why.
19. My favorite TV shows are Ugly Betty and Boston Legal.
20. I have a brother.
21. I get sea sick.
22. I have secrets that no one knows.
23. I like hymn singing.
24. I am in physical pain more often than anyone would guess. Hard living, you know.
25. I do not believe that I am all that interesting.

If you want to play, you're tagged. If you don't want to play, no problem.

2009-01-28T13:19:00.003-06:00

I've got a couple of things to blog on, and I want to get around to it. I do. But, I am very into Psalm 119 with special attention to a certain word, and that has got most of my attention. Plus, I am occasionally looking in on the rest of you. And, I am trying to learn a new song on the piano. I have some thank you notes to get out. And, of course, little Bishop Rowan would like some play time.

I would like you to say a prayer, if you are so inclined, for my friend Linda -- that's right, same name as me. She's having what should be a minor operation today but she's feeling scared about it.

Even if I don't write to you, know that many of you remain in my prayers and close to my thoughts too. Your concerns and uncertainties are never far from God's heart. It's true. You are each a beautiful, and precious, gem in God's eyes. Mine too, actually.

Peace.

2009-01-20T09:20:00.003-06:00

I'm a lover not a fighter. Ask anyone, I just am. I'd pretty much rather throw myself under a train than engage in conflict. Yet, in almost every single job I've had, I was the one who got the dirty work, the war zones, the conflict. I was "The Dirtmeister" when I worked in politics. I investigated the serious incidents for my company. I was the one who facilitated communication between warring factions. I can't even count the number of people I've just walked in and fired. You get sent to do a job, and you do it. You might hate it, but you do it.

The good news is that after al.l that I don't mind being hated, and threats on my life don't really bug me anymore. But, the conflict, I still avoid.

It's pretty easy for me to decide to just let something go. This is sometimes a manifestation of genuine humility. Sometimes being the operative word. Often it is just me wanting to believe that I am exercising humility, which I am generally quite proud about. Or, less frequently, it is me allowing myself the delusion of psychic martyrdom.

It's so thin, almost imperceptible, the line between virtue and sin.

I was just on the verge of letting something -- something fairly minor at that -- letting it go the other day. Then I read this from our friend Brother Thomas Merton:

Laziness and cowardice are two of the greatest enemies of the spiritual life. And they are most dangerous of all when they mask as "discretion."

And then this zinger:

Laziness and cowardice put our own present comfort before the love of God. They fear the uncertainty of the future because they place no trust in God.

...Laziness flies from all risk. Discretion flies from useless risk: But, urges us on to take the risks that faith and the grace of God demand of us....

And so I had to think very, very hard about what faith and grace demand of me. And I had to figure out whether I was exercising discretion, cowardice, or laziness. It turns out to have been pretty much a combination of the latter two. I knew it as soon as I read Merton's first sentence. Knew it immediately.

It's hard to know when I'm being truly good and when I just want to feel that I am being good. The virtue of humility sometimes collides with duty. And, no matter which path you choose, there are traps. Pride and self-satisfaction are lurking like thieves along the path. I don't know if you can ever be sure you've taken the right fork in the road on that. And obsessing about it after the fact is probably as bad as making the lesser choice in the first place. See how you can hardly win in the spiritual life.

I am thinking that I should close with something profound about how it's not about winning. Blah, blah, blah. I am pretty sure I could make you all feel good about that too. But, here's the thing: The kinds of risks God asks of us, the illogic of Jesus' Gospel demands, the risks required may well have us looking foolish, loosing face, loosing friends, loosing the things that this world tells us to value. And, to be honest, that sucks.

It's hard, it's confusing, and it sucks. And yet we continue.
Sometimes there's nothing comforting or profound. We just continue on towards Jerusalem.

====

The Merton quotes are from Thoughts In Solitude, Thomas Merton, Shambhala Pocket Classics, Chapter 5.

There's poetry here!

2009-01-19T20:56:00.001-06:00

Everyone else has been posting pictures of their favorite Andrew Wyeth painting. You all know what a lemming I am. So...
My own favorite, of course, is one of the dog paintings. Andrew Wyeth has a couple of good dog paintings. This one, though, looks to me like the dog is waiting for it's guardian. The eyes are open and although it is laying down, there's alertness.

I was living in DC in 1986 when the discovery of the Helga Collection was made known. The next year it was one of the hottest tickets at The National Gallery. It's rare that you actually need a ticket, but interest in the Helga Collection was so great that they limited the number of people that could visit each day. When I saw the paintings, I knew I had encountered greatness.

2009-01-15T23:30:00.003-06:00

SPECIAL LINK FOR TOM FITZHIGH.

2009-01-12T11:44:00.003-06:00

This year I am reading my Psalms out of Eugene Peterson's The Message. I question the wisdom of this decision but I think I have to read through them several times before I can say one way or the other if it's a good decision for me. I so miss the familiar words of the good old BCP Psalter. But, Brother Eugene does have a way of turning a phrase that sometimes gives me pause.

Especially on my mind this week has been a line he wrote in Psalm 18:

"Every God-direction is road tested.

Everyone who runs toward him makes it."

How about that! Everyone who runs toward God makes it.

That shouldn't slow us down. Keep on going full-steam ahead. But, if you are like me, and some of you are, you've made some mistakes along the spiritual path.

I was thinking the other day about the mis-steps I've made in my spiritual life. Mainly, I make mistakes in innocence. I've been at this for awhile. It's pretty much a foregone conclusion that I am on the path to stay. But, mainly from just not knowing what God was up to, and not knowing how to respond, mainly just from being incredibly ignorant of the ways of God, I've made some mistakes. Usually I don't notice them until I am pretty far gone in the wrong direction.

There's a place in the Psalms where the writer speaks of being a beast in the presence of God, mainly from his own woundedness and I imagine ignorance. I've been like that. Just beastly, going before the throne of all love with my fear and anger.

And sometimes -- often, really -- I wonder if my spiritual life is "going" anywhere at all or whether I might not be just sort of dog paddling pathetically along in the kiddie pool.

But, here comes this psalmist saying that everyone who runs toward God makes it. To hear me talk about it, you'd think only the first fifty were going to make it. Oh, see me run. Run Lindy, run. But, no. It's everyone. Even the slightest little jog in the direction of God is enough. And, of course, you know why as well as I do. Because "making it" isn't about us at all. Never has been.

So, let's all keep on running, and running as best we can. But, know this, you will make it. If you are not fast, you will make it. If you stumble, you will make it. Even if you fall down, even if you need help to get back up, even if you finish the race limping and bleeding, carried along by the rest of us YOU WILL MAKE IT.

EVERYONE WHO RUNS TOWARD HIM MAKES IT!

Glory.

Lindy's Epiphany Thought

2009-01-06T09:15:00.004-06:00

To be a bearer of love in the world carries as much risk as anything I can think of. It's so likely that it won't turn out like we want, possible that we will look like a failure even. But, if the love has been there, the intention good. Well, that's the thing I think. The love.

More on Redemption

2009-01-05T12:39:00.006-06:00

I'll bet a weeks pay that some of you never had me pegged as a Sports Illustrated reader. Well, that's probably because I'm not. But, I did happen to see the issue that had this story.

It's related very closely to my last post about Hannukah, or Hanukkah, or even Chanukah. As long as you have eight letters, some of which are roughly equivalent to C/het, Nun, Vav, Kaf, and Hey, you're OK. It's mainly the C/het and the Hey that are problamatic. But, that's not what this post is about.

Once again we have a story of redemption. Proof that even the most hopeless cases can be turned around!

If you don't have time to read the whole story let me just give you the highlights: Once upon a time there was a man who did the very bad thing of making his dogs fight with one another. The dogs were so mean that even the People For The Ethical Treatment Of Animals thought that the "ethical" thing to do was to kill the dogs. That's right, PETA wanted to put them down. If you are a dog, and PETA wants to put you down... Well, talk about your hopeless situations. But, there were some other humans who came up with the apparently unethical idea of showing the dogs some love, taking care of them, and treating them gently. You all know how the dogs responded. They became gentle and loving themselves.

There is nothing, nothing, nothing, beyond the reach of love. And who is love? That's right... I don't have to connect the dots for you all.

I've often said that I can tell you a lot about a person by spending some time with their dog. It's absoultely true. Dogs that are excited and yappy often have fidigity and chatty guardians. Dogs that are calm and relaxed have guardians who are consistent and loving. There are varriations, of course, for breed and breeding. But, by and large, it holds true.

I once adopted a little corgi mix who had been so badly abused that my friend -- she was the original rescurer -- said she didn't know if he would ever be a good dog. And, it was true. The dog was broken. If I rustled the newspaper he would whimper, if I got up too fast he would run and hide. He didn't know how to play, and cried the first few times I tried to pet him.

Most annoying of all, he would leak a little urine whenever he was scared... which was pretty often. I am not one of those people who can put up with a smelly house and all that sort of thing. That's for the barn, not my house. So, I thought and I thought about what to do about the dog. Finally I realized that he lacked confidence, didn't have a sense of himself as a dog. So, I started bragging on him. Every time he'd leak a little I'd say "Gooooood Dog, you're a gooooood dog. I am so proud of you! You're a goooood dog." Every time. No matter what he did, I told him he was a good dog. In about three weeks he stopped leaking.

It took a long time with that dog. He always had trust issues. But, he did have a good life, learned to play, and he had a few friends whom he knew and trusted. I felt real proud of him because in the end he was a gooooood dog.

I really don't think anything is irredeemable. Sometimes it doesn't seem that way, I'll tell you that. But, the evidence for reedmability is there. It's in Hanukkah, in Michael Vick's dogs, and even in me, probably you too.

It takes work, it leaves a scar. Love is hard, but it does seem to work.

The waters closed in over me; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped around my head...yet you brought my life up from the Pit, O Lord my God.

-- The Bible, Jonah 2:5,6

2008-12-20T23:55:00.004-06:00

This Hannukah eve seems like as good a time as any to talk about my rather unusual email address: hannukahLinda... I mean, it's unusual for an Anglican. Hannukah is not, after all, on the liturgical calendar.

It started out as a fun nick-name that some of the students in Hebrew School called me. We sang Ladino a song entitled Ocho kandelikas and the very first line is Hannukah Linda esta aqui..., and so for a few weeks I became Hannukah Linda. Then an adult friend started joking around with it. And, I even called myself that a few times.

It was later, along about Tu B'Shevat I'd say, that I thought about the significance of Hannukh and saw it's realavance to me.

You all know the Hannukah story of Roman oppression, the resistance, desecration, and returning. If you don't, Google it. It's a grand story and I couldn't do it justice here on the blog.

But there's another story that only I can tell: my own. It's tale of oppression, resistance and failure, desecration and redemption. Like the real story of Hannukah there are some battles, and there's some blood, and some times when it looked as if all was lost.

Seriously.

And what does God give me? A tiny little dab of Hannukah oil.

See, here's the thing, it's hard to celebrate Sukkas in a foreign land. The Hebrews were having a hard time of it. You can't shake the lulav in a state of oppression, after all. They'd been in exile, treated like animals. Sukkot -- the days of our joy -- was not a present reality. But, the Hebrews remembered, and they longed for the sweetness of the etrog, the rustle of the palm and myrtle.

And what did God give them? A dab of oil.

For re-dedicating the temple, cleansing it and making it ready, God gave them one little dab of oil. Hardly enough.

But there was something in the Hebrews who re-took the temple, something in me too, and I am guessing in all of us. It's a little voice that says, "Light it anyway... see what happens."

For me, I've had some things to reclaim, some cleansing to do in my own life. But, every time I light the oil I have, no matter how small, it's enough. Dayenu!

The oil that God had tucked away in the temple burned for eight days, same number as Sukkot. Dayenu!.

Hannukah is not one of the major festivals. It's not all that spiritual. But, for me, it means that God has given me everything I need to cleanse the temple, to get myself ready for a new regime. Hannukah means that the days of my oppression are over and that Sukkot -- the days of my joy -- have been restored!

Hannukah makes new, and ready. In some ways, it's the perfect way to observe Advent. Hannukah is proof that even my own desecrated life can be restored.

The first words of the Hanerot Halalu, said while lighting the Hannukah candles are:

We light these lights
For the miracles and the wonders,
For the redemption and the battles...

So for my own battles, the miracles and the wonders I've seen, for the redemption and cleansing I've experienced, all I can say is Nes Gadol Hayah Sham, a great miracle happened here.

So, now that you know why I love Hannukah:

“Spin your dreidels, eat some latkes, and have some Hanukkah Gelt,
a Hannukkah Gelt Martini that is”.

Hanukkah Gelt Martini

2 parts chilled potato vodka
1 part Goldschlager

Combine in a shaker with ice, mix gently and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Serve with Hanukkah Gelt - what else?

L’Chaim!

Hat tip to Drink Of The Week.

And, while you're throwing that back, enjoy a little cool Hannukah Swing from our man Kenny Ellis:

Yes,Virginia, there's Swinging Dreidel too!

And, oh yes... there's Oh Hannukah too!

* This is the portion from Maccabees that refers to the the sukkot-hannukah connection: And they celebrated the eight days [ of Hannukah] in joy as chag ha-sukkot in their remembrance of their troubles before some time on chag ha-sukkot in the mountains and caves as beasts of the field. Therefore, with branches of myrtle and branches of beauty and date palm branches in their hands, they gave thanks to He who permitted them to succeed in purifying His Temple. And with a consensus they established for the entire Jewish nation to celebrate each year these days.-- Maccabees II 10:6-8

2008-12-19T09:39:00.003-06:00

I've only got about a nano-second to post this so just let me rant because, as previously stated, I am mad. I am mad about AIDS, I am mad about the church, I am mad about the very existence of Rick Warren whom I find profoundly irritating. I am mad. I don't know why people don't get that. Is it because of that placid demeanor, the way I speak softly, urging calm? What? Why can't you all understand that I am damn fucking mad. Do I need to wave my arms around like a goose, raise my voice? Would you believe me if I got a little red in the face? What does it take for you all to see that I am mad? Please stop thinking of me as one of those good gays, one of the ones you can really talk to because I am sick of talking to you. Sick, sick, sick of it. You can't love me and hate the trannie down the street. You can't think I am reasonable but that a gay bishop is just too much. You can't think that I'm OK not like those other gays. For the love of Jesus Christ people. I AM those other gays. And I am really, really mad at you for assuming othersise. -- OK. That was mainly to my IRL friends. But, hopefully, we now all know that I am in fact mad.

Here's what Barak Obama said about the stupid and hateful decision to ask Rick Warren to pray at his inaguration:

Obama replied, "let me start by talking about my own views. I think that it is no secret that I am a fierce advocate for equality for gay and lesbian Americans. It is something that I have been consistent on, and something that I contend -- intend to continue to be consistent on during my presidency.
OK. What he was consistent on is that he is not for equality at all. He did not support No on 8, he said that he is not in favor of marriage for all. What's fierce about that? Get real Barak baby. You are for us as long as it's convenient. DOes barak Obama think we are stupid?

What I've also said is that it is important for America to come together, even though we may have disagreements on certain social issues. And I would note that a couple of years ago, I was invited to Rick Warren's church to speak, despite his awareness that I held views that were entirely contrary to his when it came to gay and lesbian rights, when it came to issues like abortion. Nevertheless, I had an opportunity to speak. And that dialogue, I think, is part of what my campaign's been all about; that we're not going to agree on every single issue, but what we have to do is to be able to create an atmosphere when we -- where we can disagree without being disagreeable and then focus on those things that we hold in common as Americans. Now see, I don't think of myself as an issue. I think of myself as a human being. And when you disagree with someone about gay rights, those are MY rights, and I am a human being not an issue. It is not OK to have different views about my human rights. That is not OK. A few years ago, when I was younger and dumber, it was OK. It's not OK now. Be clear, Barak, it is totally disagreeable to discuss my human rights as if they were up for debate. That IS disagreeable. So don't act like we can just sit around sipping tea and talk about "the issue" of my full inclusion in American life like it's OK because we're all being nice. Because if you think that's OK then maybe later on we can have a nice chat about slavery. All without being disagreeable, of course.

"So Rick Warren has been invited to speak. Dr. Joseph Lowery, who has deeply contrasting views to Rick Warren on a whole host of issues, is also speaking. During the course of the entire inaugural festivities, there are going to be a wide range of viewpoints that are presented. And that's how it should be, because that's what America's about. That's part of the magic of this country, is that we are diverse and noisy and opinionated. And so, you know, that's the spirit in which, you know, we have put together what I think will be a terrific inauguration. And that's, hopefully, going to be a spirit that carries over into my administration." Well, that almost appeals to my Anglican sensibilities of inclusion. But, you know what, and maybe this is just me, but oppression is not magic. It's just not. And, I don't think I have to say anymore about that. I'm all for a big tent. But, let's not pretend, not even for one minute, not even a nano-second, that there is anything magical about oppression. It's too closely tied witht he myth of the magic black man which Barak should be all too aware of since he is now a victim of it himself. We are not magical people and oppression is not magical and my full -- and I do mean FULL -- humanity is not up for discussion.

My name is Linda Diane McMillan and I approve this message.

Gaudete!

2008-12-14T10:14:00.003-06:00

Rejoice, rejoice! Well we Anglicans certainly get that part. We tend to like the rejoicing part quite a bit. But, I saw something else in the readings that caught my eye this morning. It both comforts and annoys me because, while it does explain some things, it is not the news I really wanted.

Way down in the reading, almost hidden is this little gem:

"Then will God's own peace, which goes beyond all comprehension, stand guard over your hearts and minds, in Christ Jesus, our Lord."

And to get this peace you really don't have to do all that much. Be nice, so nice that people actually notice it. Keep anxiety out of your minds, and the use of helpful drugs for this is not prohibited. Tell God what you need, and be thankful about it. And, you will get the peace. It's in the Bible.

So, since I am in kind of a grumpy place, I said to the Lord, "Well, where is my peace? and why is my mind so chatty, and my spirit unurestful, and why is it hard to pray, and where is my peace?" and, as is His practice, the Lord said nothing. Nothing at all.

So I re-read the pericope and noticed the "beyond all comprehension..." part. Here's the thing, what I really wanted, and what I was expecting, was a kind of peace that I could understand. You know, I wanted it to feel good. In fact, I am not sure that a peace which I can't even conmprehend is of any use to me. But, not understanding, I can't be sure.

So, the good news is that we may have more peace than we realize, our hearts and minds might be better guarded than we think, and God is quite possibly still working and refining us even when it seems like He has abandoned the project.

The bad news is that whatever He is doing is beyond comprehension. So, once again, we are left in the fog at the end of the pier.

Gaudete!

2008-12-08T11:57:00.003-06:00

There's a story I want to tell you. It's a pretty good story too. But, while I work on getting around to that, our friend Diane has posted a stunning sermon over at Faith in Community. If I were going to say anything really important, I hope I'd say something like what she said. Hei thee hence, I'm giving this my highest recommendation.

Diane's Sermon

And, remember that her excellent dog, Scout, has a blog too. Scout's Food For Thought hasn't been updated in awhile but it's worth clicking over for the photos. You've just gotta love this dog.

+++

And, as an added bonus, I would like for all the strighties out there to read this. And, since they don't require any further enlightenment on this subject, Diane and Ann are exempt. The rest of you really should do your best to read the whole thing. Hat tip to Barbi over at Feathers and Faith for the link.

2008-12-04T13:26:00.002-06:00

Towards the end of his letter, the writer of 2 Peter said something like this:

"Our good buddy Paul wrote to you about the things he knew. He does that in all his letters. Of course, some of what Paul says is hard to understand. Ignorant and unstable people do try real hard to understand, but they wind up twisting it all around and getting it wrong in the process. They do that to all the hard-to-understand parts of scripture. I am warning you, keep clear of those guys. But, for you, don't worry so much about always having the right answer or being able to understand the deep mysteries of God. Just concentrate on growing in grace, knowledge and understanding will come when you need them."

I like these verses (2Peter 3:14-17) because I think they are a pretty good vindication of our ambiguous Anglican ways. We are not, after all, people with answers.

I am not reading a lot of condemnation over the quest for understanding, or even that maddening desire some of us have to know everything. The writer is just saying that these people are unstable. We sometimes read "unstable" as "mentally unstable." But, that's just because we live in a world where it is socially acceptable to make fun of those unstable ones. those mentally ill ones. Those -- over there -- who are not like us.

Whatever. I don't think that's it.

I am thinking that the writer is talking about a different kind of instability. Maybe he is saying that the impetus to comprehend what is clearly ineffable comes from not being steady in some other ways.

And, actually, I think a lot of us are a little bit unsteady. We don't really believe that allowing ourselves to be loved is enough. It's hard to believe that we don't have any say in grace, or God, or our acceptability. It's easier to believe that if we wrestle with it enough we will, at long last, understand all the things of God and that will make us acceptable, lovable, and worthy.

We want to think that we have something to do with it.

But, we don't. Not really.

I think that one of the messages here is, "Look, of course there are lots of things you don't understand, and there are lots of things you can't know for sure. But, hey, just relax and enjoy the questions; sit back and let grace grow."

A relaxing day to you all; all you lovable, worthy, accepted ones!

Things Done and Left Undone

2008-12-04T12:54:00.003-06:00

I nicked this from Ann's very excellent blog. It's all about what we've done and what we haven't done.

I actually have a list of things I want to do. I am wondering if the rest of you keep a list, either a real one or something in your head, of things you'd like to do before it's, you know, too late. Do you?

Here's my Done/Undone list:
What I've done is in bold, undone is not in bold. As you might expect, I've included some helpful commentary.

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars - In a hammock.
3. Played in a band -- chamber music ensemble
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower - at my farm
6. Given more than I can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world --been to both
8. Climbed a mountain -- Mt. Washington is the highest I've climbed
9. Held a praying mantis -- and other critters
10. Sung a solo -- only to Rowan
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched lightning at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty -- only up to the crown. The arm was closed.
18. Grown my own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb -- I've held chickens and some other barnyard creatures. Not a lamb. I have eaten lamb though. That should count for something.
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset --both - many times.
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language -- taught myself!?!?!? Uh... no.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke ---and hope I never do!!
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt -- Would like to visit Ann and see this in person.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie --I produced a movie in college and feel that it should count.
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business -- dumb idea, btw
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving - did ride in a stunt plane
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp - did see the holocaust museum in Houston.
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job -- not smart enough to quit first!
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican -- on my list
82. Bought a brand new car -- another bad idea but I've done it.
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper -- my dog too!
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating -- Hey, I'm not Sarah Palin.
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury -- cleverly wiggle out of it.
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake -- I've seen it but I thought it was too icky to swim in it.
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Ridden an elephant -- but riding a camel is on the list. I've ridden other things, horses and even a donkey.

Take Heed of the Ants

2008-11-24T10:42:00.005-06:00

I'd like to give a big shout out to my good friends the Forelius ants which reside in the forests of Brazil. The reason I am such a fan of the Forelius is that they truly know what it means to give one's life for their friends. Each night, when all the Forelius' have snuggled down into their ant beds, a few of the worker Forelius ants remain outside the camp. They seal the enterance to the beds thus ensuring that their friends are safe for the night. The downside of this act of heroism is that the workers are doomed to certian death themselves. This is the first known case of "pre-emptive self-sactifice" among insects.*

See, God really is everywhere. If all we had was nature I think we could figure out how God wants us to live. I wasn't there, of course, when God put the stars on their courses or made the little flowers. But, I'm guessing those things aren't just by chance, nor are they just some divine hobby. Everything is important. Everything matters.

So let science and religion kiss one another. We all have so much to learn.

*Smithsonian Magazine, December 2008

Saying A Good Prayer

2008-11-15T07:06:00.003-06:00

Shabbat Shalom blog friends.

I don't know about you but sometimes I wonder if my prayers are getting through. And, if they are, why would God who knows everything anyway -- including what I am going to say next -- even listen? God must be up in Heaven rubbing his ancient chin and saying, "Yeah, I knew you were going to say that..." How boring for him.

But, let me tell you a little story I heard about that:

One Shabbat eve Congregation Shalom Beit was having services, everyone was going along chanting the ancient prayers in preparation for a joyous Shabbos.

But Aaron, a boy about eight years old, was simply shouting out letters of the aleph-bet. "Aleph, Bet, Gimmel, Dallet, Lammed, Mem, Nun, Tet, Hey..." Aaron didn't know all the letters and he didn't seem to have them in any order. Some of the people around him tried to shush him because he was not actually praying.

Finally the rabbi came down off the bema and said, "Aaron, my son, what are you doing?"

"Well," said Aaron, I don't know the prayers, and I am not too sure about the aleph-bet. But, I thought I would just shout up the letters and let HaShem put them in the order He wants."

And, as beautiful and soothing to me as the old prayers are, I think Aaron had the most authentic prayer. I think that wanting to pray is the key. If we can get there, and not be too concerned about anything beyond offering ourselves, God will take care of the rest.

Have a blessed Shabbos, remember your oneg, and don't worry too much if you don't quite meet the expectations of others.

Being Lifted Up

2008-11-09T08:51:00.002-06:00

I know that most of you read the Psalms every month. For me, it's about every month and a half. I get behind, I stop to think about them, I forget, I get busy... you know the list of reasons.

But, yesterday I finished for the month -- that's last month -- and I stopped to see what stood out for me in the Psalms this month and it seems like something worth thinking about for awhile.

Of course, this has always been there. But, what I've been thinking about is the number of times the writers of the Psalms tell us that God lifts up those who are fallen. And, often a better translation is those who are doubled over.

Sometimes it does say how it is that people happen to be down, or doubled over. Sometimes they get knocked over by enemies, often they are trapped or fall into a pit. But, it seems like more often they are just down. The writer is not specific about how they got there and that makes me think that maybe it doesn't matter much.

I like to think that God will lift me up because I am on the side of justice and truth, like Captain America. Or, that since I've endured humiliation with such grace God will surly want to lift me up. You know, I feel that I deserve to be lifted up. By the grace of God, of course.

But, maybe it's not like that. Maybe it's just the nature of God to lift up those who are down. I am starting to think that it doesn't even matter how they got there. It is even possible that God would lift up some people who don't particularly deserve it. And that is very good news for me, and probably for you too.

So, if you're down, don't worry;
You're sure to be lifted up.

If your enemies came along and knocked you over,
Or, worse, if it was a friend,
Don't worry. You're sure to be lifted up.

If you're bent over with worries or wracked with pain,
if circumstances conspire to keep you down,
Don't worry. You're sure to be lifted up.

If you've been exiled and rejected,
and even if your friends turn on you,
Don't worry. You're sure to be lifted up.

If you're fat and ugly, and people don't like you,
Get a dog and don't worry. You too are sure to be lifted up.

I'm Mad At My Brother

2008-11-05T21:57:00.001-06:00

My brother called me a fat lesbian on Sunday night. And, since it's true, I am not sure I should be all that offended. But, it was unexpected and it hurt me. Hurt my feelings. I didn't let him see me cry though. He shouldn't say stuff like that to me. Probably someone else could have gotten away with it. I might even have laughed if someone else had said it. But, sometimes I think that's all my brother knows about me. There is more to me than that, isn't there? I don't know... maybe that's all I am, just a big fat dopy lesbian. That's how I'm feeling.

I might read over my resume later. That always cheers me up. I may be an underachiever in my personal life, but get me to the office and see me shine.

I have an old prescription of Paxil which I stopped taking because of the fatigue. But, now I'm just giving myself a half dose to see if it will cheer me up a little and not tire me out so. I hate being tired. On the plus side, my insomnia is cured.

I feel badly about the Prop 8 thing. But, it doesn't really affect me. I feel badly for others, for their effort, and for how it must feel for them. We are all diminished by something like that. But, for me, it's all the same here in Texas. We don't have to worry about setbacks since there's never been any forward movement.

It's the thing with my brother that has me in such a funk. I think that most people around here... that's all they know about me. Oh, to be sure, they like me anyway. Love the sinner and all that. I am not feeling very good about things tonight.

Not good at all.

California Votes Yes on Hate... A Pictorial Tour

2008-11-05T21:01:00.006-06:00

I thought you all might enjoy a little pictorial tour of HateLand. If our pal Fran were posting this it would be tagged "Jesus I'm sick of these people." I'm just blowing off steam with this one. I love my straight friends. I do. But, just to be honest, some of them I just want to walk up to and say, "What the fuck are you thinking about?" Not any of you guys. But, see below... you'll see what I mean.

This pretty heterosexual couple is feeling relieved and happy now that their marriage is secure.

These big strong straight men have succeeded in protecting their godly christian families from the clear and present danger of homosexuals.

This happy heterosexual couple dances for joy. Now that the homosexuals have been defeated they can look forward to many years of feeling superior to their lesbian neighbors.

Finally, these heterosexual couples are able to embrace one another in the sure knowledge that they really are superior to homosexuals, witches, and other evil doers.

These happy heterosexuals are saying a prayer to jesus to thank him for their heterosexuality and to give him thanks and praise that they are not like their nasty queer neighbors.

This dear lady is especially thankful. "Oh, thank you dear sweet lard geasus, thank you for my va-j-j and thank you for making me a woman of god." Because, as everyone knows, lesbians are not real women, and certainly not women of God. The other woman is wearing a cross pendant to show that she really does love jesus quite a lot.

Here ends the tour. All photos are nicked from the Orange County Register. They have a slidshow and everything. You'll be able to see that I took liberties with the photos. Some of these people are NO supporters, and Obama-types. But, they served a higher purpose here.

Eclectic...

2008-10-12T19:29:00.002-05:00

My computer is so screwy that I can't even post a comment on my own blog. Oy g'veigh! What's an eclectic gal to do? So, nu, I'm just making a blog post because my comment was getting long-ish anyway.

The blog is eclectic, I really am not. In fact, I'm pretty much a one note nellie. Even my unpublished (forgot) Rosh Hashanah post! It's all about love of God. Living in it more, expanding awareness of it, expressing it better, being able to find language for it, learning new ways to think about it... it's really all from the same motivation. Whether it's the Hebrew, or reading through the Tao, Kabbalah, meditating on the lives of the saints... it's all because I can't get over this God!

I don't even allow myself to actually dwell on it too much because it takes all my time and it blows me too far away! I can't even say any more about it.

+++++

I wanted to do more of a post on Beth Moore. But, why? I mean, I'm preaching to the choir. Even if I thought any of the Moore-ites would be open to hearing my brilliant and much-needed insight, what good would it do?

Look, it's true that the "Bible Studies" don't acknowledge the massive glory of the book we call the Bible. (They call it "The Word.") Beth Moore skips across centuries, she dances through cultures and language as if they weren't there, she's impervious to any consideration of literatry form, she's a nimble proof-texter, and she's got these women believing that if they look up an english word in a greek lexicon that they have done a greek word study on it, you know, in "the" greek. Really, you all don't want to get me going on that.

But, I thought about it a little bit this afternoon. What good would it do for me to tell them these things? Maybe one person would start to think a little bit. Probably not. More likely they would just feel sorry for me and call me an intellectual. The standard for that is pretty low I think.

And I don't think it's doing any harm to just let them go on with what they are doing. I mean, they really believe they are doing serious Bible Study and if they keep believing that... well, maybe one day they will! I don't want to be the one to derail whatever path they are on. I've had people try to do that to me and I didn't like it too much.

The thing is, I am feeling more tenderly towards the Beth Moore-ites. I can't help it.

This morning a paper they gave me fell out of my Bible. It was a list of some Hebrew names for God. I think there were ten, maybe twelve, of them. Bless their hearts. They are just like me: Looking for more ways to think about God, more ways to know this unknowable entity, they too want to talk about God and express their love for God. And, somehow they've come up with these ten or twelve names and written them down and shared them with me. Isn't that precious? I just about cried for the sweetness of it.

As a little experiment I listed the ones I could come up off the top of my head this afternoon. I was embarassed that I only had 27. But, I was more embarassed that I rarely ever meditate on more than a handful of them. I hardly ever think of Tesemach Adonai (branch of the Lord), I wouldn't even have thought about it except that it was in my reading a few days ago. And I especially never think of Avi or Avi-ad (father). And I double especially don't enjoy too much thinking about Shofet (Judge), unless it's in relation to my enemies. I am more of an Mascheck or Ma'on (shelter) kind of thinker. I am also fond of El'or, God of Light... stuff like that. So, I am not convinced that having so many is a real assett, unless you just want to show off. We don't want to be like that, do we? Sometimes we do. But, we overcome it.

The names are important. They let us know of God's gender (El is a boy, El Shaddai is a girl), they tell about God's number (Yashar is just one, Elokem is plural), and they each allow us another peak at this unending mystery in which we live. Having more names is better than fewer, I would say. But, what is more important is what you do with the ones you've got. If all you have is ten names for God, well, dayenu! That is enough.

And if Beth Moore is the Bible Study teacher you've got, dayenu! And, if you enjoy looking things up in a greek lexicon, what's the harm? God can use anything.

So, that's where I am with the Beth Moore-ites. I want more for them but realize they are happy where they are and as a Star Trekkie I know that the prime directive is not to interfere. They have God, and that is always enough.

Dayenu!

2008-10-11T09:57:00.004-05:00

Connecticut says YES!

Now all that's left is for the Christians to grouse and grumble, probably come up with a ballot initiative, stir up a lot of hetro-hate and homo-fear, and eventually go down in flames like they are about to in California.

When will you fundamentalits learn this one fundamental lesson: The arc of history -- God's own history -- is in the direction of justice. No amount of proof-texting, fear mongering, or wringing of hands can change that.

Every page of that Bible you worship tells of a God moving people out of slavery and bondage, into freedom; out of exile, and into the mainstream. Every little thing is a step closer to the Kingdom, and it's comming babies... it's coming!

Go Connecticut!

Tao Te Ching, Seventy Six

2008-10-10T08:38:00.005-05:00

From this morning's readings...

A man is born gentle and weak
At his death he is hard and stiff.
Green plants are tender and filled with sap.
At their death they are withered and dry.

Therefore the stiff and unbending is the disciple of death.
The gentle and yielding is the disciple of life.

Thus an army without flexibility never wins a battle.
A tree that is unbending is easily broken.

The hard and strong will fall.
The soft and weak will overcome.

-- Tao Te Ching, Seventy-Six

+++++

On an unrelated note... totally unrelated... Saint Regina was not a recently remembered saint. Turns out I was reading in the wrong month on that.

I did go to Beth Moore Bible Study last night. Maybe I'll write something about that later. For now I'll just say that there's more diversity in the body of Christ than we ever imagined, and I think I'm it.

Have a good day everyone, and don't do anything I wouldn't ;)

Saint Regina

2008-10-08T15:31:00.003-05:00

Yesterday was the day we remembered Saint Regina on the calendar of Saints. Nobody knows much about Regina. Her mother died in childbirth. Her father was a prosperous pagan. Poor motherless Regina was handed off to a nurse who took it upon herself to baptize Regina. When Regina's father heard that his daughter had been baptized, he immediately disowned her. My hagiography says he flew into a rage over it! The nurse took Regina in. They were poor and Regina helped out by herding sheep. Eventually a man whom I'll not dignify by naming proposed marriage to her. She refused and he put her in prison for it. Eventually he tortured her to death for her refusal to deny her faith, marry him, and sacrifice to idols. It was a brutal death to be sure.

I admire the martyrs, possibly more than I should. But, with all respect to Regina, what touched me about this story wasn't her faithfullness in the face of torture. It's that it was her baptism that set it all off. Really, it defined the rest of her life.

Apparently, even a pagan can recognize the indelible mark of baptism. Having been raised by baptists that seems pretty remarkable to me. My own credobaptism wasn't that way. The baptists call what I had "believer's baptism." And I guess that was OK. But, it had more to do with something that I did, I believed, than it did with anything God had done.

I am wondering why we don't take baptism so seriously anymore. What would it mean if we did? And I guess the underlying question is to ask what baptism actually is. I'm not talking about the catechetical answer. I know that one. I need something better. I am thinking about that.

And Now A Word From Beth Moore

2008-09-30T21:01:00.003-05:00

Often we hear the noble expression "color blind" to describe people without racial prejudice. We're not at all sure "color blindness" is what God is looking for. We believe He wants us to appreciate and delight in our different colors and be "color-blessed" instead!

-- Beth Moore

You know, my life would be a lot easier if things were more, you know, black and white.

I would really like to just dismiss Beth Moore as another crack-pot isogetical freak but now she's gone and said this... pretty much exactly what I said just a few days ago.

It just goes to show you, we can all learn from one another. Everybody has something important to contribute. I am not saying you should invite her to your parish. You shouldn't. But, we can't just wave her off either. Like it or not... and, to be totally honest, I do not... Beth is one of us.

I am going to go back to the Beth Moore Bible Study, published by the hate-mongers at LifeWay, and see what I can learn from my enemies. This is required if we're ever going to get anywhere with the whole Kingdom of God thing... know what I mean?

On Beth Moore

2008-09-29T13:24:00.004-05:00

I recently stated my own personal opinion as if it were an actual fact with regard to Crusillo and EFM. I can tell you that my personal opinions have not changed much since then either. But, I did realize that I spoke from a limited vantage point, and that my opinions had been formed by looking at an extreemly small piece of the pie.

And what is even more important to me than the possibility of being wrong, which I am pretty much used to by now, is the possibility that I hurt someone's feelings. So I felt badly about that and I apologized. That's about all you can do. And then I realized that I'd done it AGAIN... this time with Beth Moore.

Oy me... Have I become so self-important? Well, of course I have. If it's not one sin, it's another. And, after this, it'll be another still. Bear with me as I seem to have a real bad habit of sinning over and over again.

I really don't know enough about Beth Moore to be making such bold statements. It is only my personal opinion that she's a nut, and that's based on the slenderest of evidence. I've only been in the thing for three weeks, and one of those was hurricane evacuation week.

Here's what I DO know:

Beth Moore is an engaging, and entertaining, speaker. I'd go somewhere to listen to her. Shoot, I'd love to have a lovely port with her. She's very interesting. But, I don't think she's much on the porto.

She is NOT an Anglican and will do nothing to promote Anglican values or ethos in your congregation. And, I am sure she would agree with that and possibly be proud of it.

She is unfairly critical of the Jesus Seminar. Mocks it. And she gets laughs for it too.

Her workbook is published by LifeWay, an openly, practicing, and avowedly homophobic publishing house. And, that's not her only homophobic friend either. She's a Baptist. Need I say more? (There's that fun pun again.)

The workbook requires homework for which there are "correct" and "incorrect" answers. We took a little "True" and "False" quiz at the start of last week's lesson. I am not to happy with that. Just me.

Beth Moore treats the Bible as if it's all one book, written by the same person, to the same people. That seems real disrespectful to Holy Scripture to me.

Beth Moore cherry picks verses from all over to make a single point and I don't think that that's always what the verses she chooses mean. I brought this up once and gave an example. It was not well-received.

In the second session Beth Moore wanted us to see that God is big, really big. (Like a giant man, Dr. Barth?) So, anyway, I agree with that, God is big. Beth Moore says that every time we try to define God, that limits our understanding and creates a little idol. That's kind of right, too. More likely it creates a little heresy, probably one that's been around for awhile. But, I am not going to argue with Beth Moore over something that little. Heresy, idols... neither one is that good. But, here's the point, and most of you have already guessed where I'm going, Beth Moore's God is limited to the "God of the word." You know, The Bible. What nobody at the Beth Moore Bible Study will say is that this is in itself a defining of God, and it's limiting, and it turns the Bible into a little idol.

I've gone on perhaps a little more than I should have on Beth Moore. Obviously we have a lot of differences.

I have found the experience enlightening in other ways though. For example, I used to think that there wasn't that much difference between Anglicans and ordinary protestants. Woah... think again. Dear Anglican friends, we are a different breed.

I actually attended the Methodist church one Sunday morning, that's where we have the Beth Moore meetings. That pretty well disabused me of the notion that Methodists and Anglicans would ever again be reunited. And I used to think that. Until just a couple weeks ago, I thought that.

And I have the experience of listening to and observing Baptists and Methodists in their natural habitat, the Fellowship Hall.

I will update you after the next meeting. The meetings are on Thursdays and I haven't decided whether I am going to Beth Moore or the veep debate.

Just personally, I have a feeling Beth Moore is a great ol'e gal. But, she's not one of us. I don't think it's apporpriate to have her as part of an Anglican parish's offerings because she is so blatently anti-intellectual, she's interested in the "correct" answers, and she is a member of an unhealthy and hateful organization. She is disrespectful to Holy Scripture and she does not look to history or tradition for guidance. She seems fairly reasonable, but fairly unAnglican.

Of course, I could be wrong.

(Previously I spelled Ms. Moore's name "More." I was wrong and have corrected the error.

2008-09-29T10:36:00.002-05:00

Not every quiet man is humble, but every humble man is quiet.

Isaac The Syrian

Is it just me? It seems like everywhere I go these days there are people chatting away. I never fail to open a door but what there isn't someone behind it wanting words to come out of my mouth.

It's not that I am particularly humble either. It's just that I crave some quiet, a place free of words and their competing vibrations. Others seem impervious to the effects of so many vibrations. Me, I get kind of sea sick from it.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the chatters in my life. I find them almost infinately amusing. Last week I got so tickled at my sister-in-law that I started laughing out loud. She's so independent that she doesn't even need another person in order to have a conversation!

And, in all their chattering, they are quick to tell me things about myself that I would never have noticed on my own. Linda doesn't need to buy anything because she's a hermit... Linda always pays retail... I'm surprised Linda eats meat because she cried when we saw that dead dear, 'member... Seeing myself through their eyes... well, I've taken it all under consideration.

People in this town often ask me if I am Ms. McMillan's daughter. Well, in one sense I am. But I also AM Ms. McMillan. Whatever. Some people think they know me because they know my mother. They do not. My mother is the nice one, the community organizer, the philanthropist, the talented one, woman of the year even... twice!

I am the quiet one.

Thanks to The Blue-Eyed Gnostic

2008-09-26T10:59:00.004-05:00

Hear me, you that hear and listen to my words, you who know me. I am the hearing that can be acquired everywhere, and I am the speech that cannot be grasped. I am the name of the sound and the sound of the name. For what is inside of you is what is outside of you, and the one who fashioned you on the outside is the one who shaped the inside of you. And what you see outside of you, you see inside of you; it is visible and it is your garment.
-- The Thunder: Perfect Mind, NHL, p.302
From the Gnostic Book of Hours, p. 44.

Shamelessly nicked from Eileen, who has a pretty picture to go along with it over at her place.

The Thunder: Perfect Mind is one of the Sethian writings. That means it's thought to be associated with Seth. Yes, that Seth. From Adam and Eve. There're lots of other Gnostic and Gnostic-type wroitings spanning centuries and encompassing other heresies. "Gnosticism" has just become a blanket term for all of them.

A'course, you and I know that Gnosticism is a heresy. I don't recall it being condemned by any of the great eccumenical councils... speak up if you do. But I do know that Gonsticism, in all it's varieties, was condemned by that great heresy hunter Tertullian. He is practically defined by his anti-gnosticism. Before Tertulian, there was Iraenaus who, in his "Adversus Haereses" wrote about the Gonsticism in his region (France). And some people even say that the writer of The First Epistle to Timothy had Gonsticism in mind, referring to it as a "profane novelty."

But, I don't really want to write to you about Gnosticism. I want to talk about hereises for a minute. It is too easy to say, "Oh that's a heresy..." and dismiss it out of hand. Whenever something is that apparent, it deserves a second look because it's probably not right.

I don't think that the promoters of heresy, the heretics, set about to undermine the faith. I can't know that for sure but I have a feeling I'm right. I think that they were really seeking God. I do. And I think they found a little truth somewhere in there just like we all do. The thing that makes them heretics is that the truth they found was exalted above other truths and often made the only true thing. And that is a heresy.

Thank God for scholars who identified heresies and wrote about them. Tertulian and Ireaneas are only two of a pantheon of great heresy fighters. What they did is help us know who we are, who Christians are, by showing us what we are not. Gnostics... nope, not that. Marcionites... nope, not that either. Valentinians..., not that either. Just the list of Gnostic heresies might easily fill the page but the answer is still the same: Nope, not that either.

But, there is still truth in them thare heresies. It may be small compared to the whole but that doesn't make it any less true. So, instead of throwing out the Gnostic poetry along with the Gnostic heresy, let's embrace its beauty, see that it's true and may just as well feed our soul as the poetry of the Psalms.

If we are honest, and most of us are not... But, if we are, we know that we are constantly vascillating among this or that heresy. This is especially true regarding big things like the trinity, or the nature of God, anything ineffable. We want to understand and we can't do that without words, so we enter into one of the hereises for the language. But, we have to back out because it's not adequate, not the whole truth. We can see that this other thing, for which we also have words, is true too. And, suddenly we're in another heresy. So, we back out of that and into another, and into another, and into another. Maybe, if it's a real nice heresy, we even stop for awhile to enjoy it. It's OK.

It's not bad or wrong to do that. I mean, we can't go around in a transcendental state all day. So, the heresies give us a way to speak and think about God. But, if we've dismissed all the hereises then we are left without much to go on. I think I would feel just awful if I didn't have the company of Macian and Valentinius, Aruis, Apollanarius, Nestorius, and the others. They let me know that I am not alone is wanting to understand, and that I am not alone in constantly being wrong.

Heretically yours,

Lindy

A Little More On Race

2008-09-22T22:45:00.003-05:00

We can't even begin to know ourselves until we learn to distinguish between who we are and who others are. That requires us to see otherness and acknowledge it. It may begin with Brother Buber's famous I and Thou but it extends to all others and is the thing that allows us to know them and, through them, ourselves. For example:

* I know that I do not have blond hair because I have met people who do.
* I know I am a woman because I have met people who are not.
* I know that I am white because I have met people who are brown and black and yellow...

You get the idea.

Christianity itself is mainly defined in terms of what it is not. Thank God for the heresies. As soon as one pops up we have a pope or theologian or ecumenical council saying, "Nope, that's not what we are..." And it has been in knowing what we are not that we have been able to define what we are.

So, when it comes to race, don't brag to me that you are color blind.

If you can't look at someone and see that they are in some way colored, then how do you know what color you are?

When I hear someone say that they are colorblind I know I am talking to someone who doesn't even know what color they are. After all, they are color blind.

White people like to feign color blindness because we don't want to be confronted with our racism. It's so much easier to pretend that everyone is white.

Isn't it funny that you never hear black people claiming to be color blind?

I'll tell you what I think. I think that black people know that color matters, that it's defining. For a long time it defined where they could eat, or which drinking fountain they could use, where they could sit on the bus, what job they could have, where they could go to school. Oh yeah... race, color, has been defining for black people.

Should race be the thing that defines a person? No, I don't think it should be. But, as long as those of us who are white continue to use it to ensure our own privileged position in society, it will be.

White people promote racism because it benefits us. That's just the reality.
If you can't see that, then you're a racist.

Want to end racism? Open your eyes and see the black, see all the colors.

Serious about ending it? Move across the tracks. Become black. Then racism will end.

+++++

And now a word from Beth Moore:

Often we hear the noble expression "color blind" to describe people without racial prejudice. We're not at all sure "color blindness" is what God is looking for. We believe He wants us to appreciate and delight in our different colors and be "color-blessed" instead!

A Few Questions on Race

2008-09-21T20:31:00.007-05:00

I don't usually post political stuff on this blog. Lots of other people do, Fran is one of the best and most passionate. We all love Fran. There are others. Hat tip to all who've previously posted this. I nicked it from Fran but it's other places too.

I am going to post the following questions because they are important, because we are ignorant and lazy for failing to confront the latent racism in our society, all of us are lazy and guilty... except, of course, for the very few of you who aren't. And I am posting this because I am becoming increasingly aware of the very nice people in my neighborhood who are unaware -- blissfully and righteously unaware -- of their own racism, misogyny and homophobia. Yeah, they all go together.

Here are the questions:

What if John McCain were a former president of the Harvard Law Review?
What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating class?
What if McCain were still married to the first woman he said "I do" to?
What if Obama were the candidate who left his first wife after she no longer measured up to his standards?
What if Michelle Obama were a wife who not only became addicted to pain killers, but acquired them illegally through her charitable organization?
What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard?
What if Obama were a member of the "Keating 5"?
What if McCain was a charismatic, eloquent speaker?
If these questions reflected reality, do you really believe the election numbers would be as close as they are?
This is what racism does.

It covers up, rationalizes and minimizes positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative qualities in another when there is a color difference.

We've got to stop pretending that all is well.

We are living in, and most of us benefit from, a racist, misogynist, and homophobic society. Awareness is a good first step. Of course, awareness will be difficult for white, straight, men and the women who benefit from their association with them.

I don't have a lot of answers for you. I'm an Anglican remember. My job is the questions. My responsibility extends only to myself. So, here are the questions I am going to ask myself this week:

1. How would my day have been different if my skin were a different color? If I didn't speak English? If I were not a citizen? If I had been hungry?

2. Who did I encounter today who was significantly different? Was I aware of their difference or did I try to pretend that they were like me?

3. In what ways did my race privilege me today? Am I willing to give that up?

4. How can I share privilege?

5. Am I willing to BE the other, or do I just like talking about it?

I think the examination of these questions, and our motives, is very dicey. We can't know our own hearts, they are so slippery and deceitful. Nor can we say what would have been. We just do the best we can. I hope that will be enough.

2008-09-18T22:28:00.003-05:00

"Aspire to God with short but frequent outpourings of the heart."

St. Francis of Sales

I want to thank those of you who prayed for me while I was away. And, as a report to you, let me say that your prayers were sustaining and effectual.

It is embarrassing, really, to say how pleasant the whole evacuation was. I left home early in the morning with my dog and a few belongings. It was a cool morning and I had the top down on the car. There was traffic, lots more than usual. But, at 4/5 AM... it was nothing. I arrived in Austin around 11 and had lunch with my favorite person at my favorite cafe. Then I headed out to Spicewood where more friends greeted me. There I had a lovely suite overlooking beautiful Lake Travis. I ate the best food, we had wonderful wine, my dog waded in the swimming pool and chased deer. We talked politics, shared thoughts on sustainable living, and watched the news reports of hurricane Ike. All this while others were in shelters and giving thanks for MREs. You see how well I had it!

When I got home there was electricity, water, and minimal wind damage. I spent a pleasant day or so picking up branches with my neighbors. Others had it much worse.

It might be easy for me to start believing that God had specially protected me, that because of your prayers I was somehow specially surrounded by guardian angels and protected not just from harm but inconvenience too. And we can probably all name people who would leap to just that very conclusion. We know better, though. Like the Holy Spirit the winds blow where they will and it could just as easily have been my home with a big tree in it. Or worse.

So, while I don't think my case is in any way "special," I do believe more than ever in the power of prayer and specifically the effectiveness of many short prayers. It was clear to me that my way was clear. The evacuation, so difficult for others, was a breeze for me. So, something was going on and I can only attribute it to prayer.

If you are like me, and some of you are, then your prayers may not have amounted to much. It's OK. I do it too. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of times I've bowed my head at the computer and said a short prayer for someone. Sometimes I'll remember them later at, you know, "prayer time." But, more often, it's short. That's sometimes called an ejaculatory prayer, just so you know. Sometimes I say a prayer I know, sometimes one I make up myself, sometimes not much more than a sigh. I used to think that was kind of slothful praying. But, I've changed my mind.

I think it was Francios de Sales who said, You will be sustainedby many short prayers." It sounds like somethng he would have said. I used to think that he meant that I should say many short prayers. And I am often saying The Jesus Prayer or some slight varriant. I believe in the merits of that. That's what Jonah did in the belly of the fish, you know. Many short prayers, all of them from the Psalms. Jonah knew the prayers of his people, knew them well. And, when he needed them, those prayers from the Psalms came readily to his heart and lips. And, that happens for us too.

But now I see another aspect of that. What I see is that not only do my short prayers sustain me but yours do too! Honestly, I didn't pray much during the evacuation. I just didn't. Don't know why. But, you did! Your short prayers sustained me. Francois, if indeed I have the attribution correct on that, is still right. I am sustained by many short prayers. Just not my own.

Sometimes when I am up late at night, very early morning actually, I wonder why. Surly these pittiful little prayers do more to make me feel better than they do for anyone else. Does God even hear such vague pleas? "Be strength for the oppressed, become healing to the broken. Oh God, receive tenderly the souls of the dying. Convert the hearts of the violent..." On and on with my little prayers. I hardly even know what I am doing at that hour and, since I got my new memory foam mattress, I prefer to keep my knees in the bed and off the floor. But, what if Francios was right and my short prayers joined with yours? That seems like something worth getting out of bed for.

I don't know how prayer works, or why we do it. I've told you all that before. But, if once in awhile I can see that there's some reason, that it might even be effectual... well, that might be enough to sustaiun me in continuing.

I can't find the exact quote I am looking for but let me leave you with these few lines:

"As those who are influenced by human and natural love have their minds and hearts constantly fixed on the objects of their affections; as they speak often in their praise, and when absent lose no opportunity of expressing by letters this affection for them and can not even pass a tree without inscribing on the bark the name of their beloved; so those,who are possessed of divine love have their minds and hearts constantly turned toward the divine object of their love; they are ever thinking of Him, they long after Him; they aspire to Him, and frequently, speak of Him; and were it possible, would engrave in the hearts of all mankind the name of their beloved Jesus." St. Francis of Sales

It is an old Custom with the servants of God always to have some little prayers ready and to be darting them up to heaven frequently during the day, lifting their minds to God out of the filth of this world. He who adopts this plan will get great fruit with little pains." St. Philip Neri

Peace and love to all!

Lindy

Believe the Best

2008-09-16T11:29:00.003-05:00

One of my friends in Sweeny called me a couple of times to let me know what was going on with the hurricane, etc... Another neighbor called too, and there is another friend that I was thinking of when I stepped into my favorite bakery early yesterday morning. (It's Weikel's, just north of LaGrange on the 71. Much better than the more popular Huskera's up the road.) Anyway, I bought a loaf of bread for all of us. As I made my first delivery the friend's husband opened the door. I explained my mission and handed him the loaf of bread and he said, "Huh... I never figured you'z the type." I said, "What do you mean?" And he admitted that he didn't really know. We smiled and I left. But, I knew what he'd meant. Based on never having met me for more than a minute or two, on never having had a converstion with me, based on nothing at all really, he'd assumed that I just wasn't the type to think of anyone but myself. I have lived in the city after all. I am an, a-hem, les-be-un. And everyone knows I don't go to church anymore... lost my faith, I guess. Anyway, I was wondering what it would be like if instead of trying to get a bead on one another's motives we just believed thebest about them. I mean, what would that be like?

I am going to practice believing the best about people today.

2008-09-04T22:17:00.004-05:00

Environment is more important than will

-- Paramanhansa Yogananda

I have a desk. It's a great desk with all kinds of exotic carvings. There are peacocks and boats, pagodas and more peacocks. It's beautiful. Totally impractical, but beautiful. I read and journal there, and I keep some things in the little drawers inside. It's my favorite environment.

To be honest, I am a little overly attached to the desk. I actually love it. I keep it properly dusted and polished, and I love the polishing because that's when I get to trace all it's intricacies and "waste" time wondering what it all means, who carved it and why. It's sort of mysterious, this desk of mine. My environment. It's an outward and visible sign of things I'll never know. My environment allows for mystery. It's a place where it's OK not to know, just to be.

The desk is made of some unknown dark wood. My bookcase is also of some unknown dark wood, old and of some historical note I've been told. So, last week when I went off shopping for another bookcase I thought I'd get something dark. I watch HGTV, after all, and I know how to do design. You know, from Tee Vee.

Before my shopping really got under way I stopped at a friend's furniture store in a near by town. The furniture they stock is way out of my price range, really beautiful stuff. I wasn't even there to shop. In retrospect I can't remember why I was there. But, I digress... So, I was taking with my friend and she said, "Well, I've got a bookcase..." and she walked me back to this gorgeous honey colored bookcase. It was solid and wide. Except for the color, it was just what I was looking for.

My friend claimed the bookcase had some water damage. It had been marked down and didn't sell, they didn't need it, long story short, I could have it. I thought I'd probably have to put a stain on it so that it would fit in with the other furniture. But, no big deal. Small price to pay, just a little elbow grease, for a great bookcase.

As if my life is not rich and blessed enough, eh? Now I'm getting free bookcases.

You might reasonably think that the new honey colored bookcase wouldn't fit in with my old dark furniture. And it doesn't. But, I am not going to change the new bookcase. Want to know why? It's because the new bookcase changed my dark furniture. In the desk, and the other bookcase, there were hues of gold and red that I'd never seen before. Even my wood floor has red streaks! I kid you not, I was so stunned at the transformation that I sat down and just stared at the other furniture. The loved desk seemed unknown and more mysterious. And the old lawyers bookcase -- I am not exaggerating -- had streaks of fire in it.

Environment.

Environment is more important than will. That's probably one of the reasons Sri Yogananda started spiritual communities for his devotees. It's why Jesus kept the disciples together, it's the rationale behind cloistered life. It's why sports teams travel together, and armies go off by themselves before battle. Environment.

What is near us changes us, brings out the true colors and makes us better (or at least different) than we are by ourselves. But, it's not the sameness that brings out our hidden beauty. It's the different one, the other, the single odd piece.

I am in an odd place, surrounded by odd people. Discouraging as I find that, I have hope that maybe some streaks of fire, a hidden hue, might emerge. You never know.

"...just as the natural environment depends on biodiversity, so the human environment depends on cultural diversity, because no one creed has a monopoly on spiritual truth; no one civilization encompasses all the spiritual, ethical and artistic expressions of mankind.”

-- Sir Jonathan Sachs
(nicked from Elizabeth Kaeton)

2008-08-21T18:29:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking quite a lot about the end of the world. It all started with this show I saw on the History channel. According to the show, it's almost a sure bet that the world is going to end on December 21, 2012. I've been thinking about that.

So, is that true? Well, the show did offer some scientific stuff to make its point. And it was on Tee Vee, after all.

I think the better question is, if it is true, then how does that change the way I live today? Obviously I don't want to get 40 or 50 years down the line and say, "Oh, dern, I should've planned for my old age." But, neither do I want to live every moment for some future time that may never come.

I am not so sure that it's true what Jesus said, that no man knows the day or the hour. I think maybe the Mayans, and those old Chinese guys, did figure something out. I think the point Jesus was making is that it's better -- far, far, better -- to live as much in the present moment as possible. That, after all, is where he is.

2008-08-18T15:41:00.002-05:00

So what do you suppose will be so noteworthy that I break my long blog silence to comment on it?

An award, of course.

Thank you beautiful Eileen for stroking my ego and giving me something to blog about.

The award is basically meaningless, of course. There's no accompanying cash prize or anything. I can't even hold it in my hands and admire my reflection in it's shiny gold finish. But, I love it just the same. Something about being known and recognized delights the heart. It's palpable. Can't be ignored.

The blog world mystifies and fascinates me. I've never met any of you. Well, maybe a few. Yet I cry when your kitties die, I think of you when you are traveling, pray over you. I am in love with some of your dogs. And in these weeks when my own life has been discombublated and my internet access sketchy I've tried to convince myself that it didn't really matter. I got all my "real" work done, after all. At the end of the day, though, I'd wonder about you. And I missed you. Because you are real.

So, thanks Eileen for the Kick Ass Award. I've kicked more s*** than I care to recall and somehow, I'm still here. Thanks be to God, and a couple others.

I am granting the award to JohnieB because I loved his post about war and because I have a feeling he's a great soul.

I am also giving it to Doxy for her searing post on AIDS. This made me love you Doxy.

And I am giving it to Grendel who has posted some of the best dog writing on the whole internets. And I am also giving Grendel some virtual gravy. Check out "I Can Haz Psalms." It's beautiful.

I think I'll also give it to Kristen because she's been kicking cancer's ass.

And I'll give it to Elizabeth Kaeton just because. Just because I often find myself hoping she's posted on a subject because I want to know what she thinks about it. She's a sharpie, that Kaeton woman.

And I want to give it to one more person too. My fellow Texan and pal Barbi Click. Because she deserves an award.

You ALL kick ass.

So, here's the rules... you know there's got to be rules else chaos would reign. And we can't have that.

Choose 5 bloggers that you feel are "Kick Ass Bloggers"
Let 'em know in your post or via email, twitter or blog comments that they've received an award
Share the love and link back to both the person who awarded you and back to www.mammadawg.com
Hop on back to the Kick Ass Blogger Club HQ to sign Mr. Linky then pass it on!

I copied and pasted these rules directly from the official Kickin' Ass site so you know they are the real thing. That said, play if you want and use the rules as best suits you.

Love to all,

Lindy

Out Of Pocket Again

2008-08-03T11:29:00.002-05:00

Dear Blog Friends,

I'll be out of pocket for another week or so. South Texas, then Mexico, then another town in Texas and finally home for awhile.

Please pray for me that I may have safe and uneventful travels, that I may always find myself where I am supposed to be, and that I will see the face of Christ in all I meet. And know that I remember you in my prayers as well.

Peace,

Lindy

Just Catching Up

2008-07-27T10:12:00.005-05:00

I got moved last week. All my stuff is here and everything is in its place. I've gotten rid of a lot of things and feel good about that. Less is more, you know. For someone who claims that this Earth is not my home, I often collect worldly goods as if I planned to live here forever.

My little dog has settled in nicely and is enjoying the new found independence of having a doggie door. There are a lot of squirrels here which need his attention.

My car is in it's other home right now... that is, the repair shop. This has not been such a big deal.

I have lost my regualr schedule. Temporarily, of course. But, it seems like a long time since I've seen my books and sat at my desk just to see what thoughts are there, waiting for me to be still long enough to think them. A whole week of discombublation is too much for me. It's boring, I know. But I am a person of habit.

I went to a cook-out at my brother's last night. There is a wedding shower for him today. I guess because he needs things? Believe me when I tell you that he needs no worldly goods. But there is a shower anyway. I can't help but wonder why he isn't having people give money to the MGDs or something. The accumulation is just appalling. But, I am here among my bio-family and that's what they do. Accumulate. More. Better. Latest. Different color.

And then there's me. My family think of me as the poor one. Poor Linda. So given to moderation. So different.

Well, pitty me not dear blog friends. I am happy, even if a little bit out of my element.

I nicked this cool map of the US from our fellow tribe member Ann. You can make your own by clicking on the link. It shows all the places I've been, and where all I have left to go.

visited 37 states (74%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or determine the next president

Have a fun weekend.

Your pal,

Lindy

Yes...This Is What I Intended To Say

2008-07-16T12:48:00.003-05:00

In my overly-wordy July 8 post what I intended to say is this:

"O Allah! If I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell, and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise.But if I worship You for Your Own sake,grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.”

Rabia al Basri

h/t to AKHF, which I just realized are the exact same initials of someone else who was quoted on my blog today. Curious...

2008-07-16T10:57:00.004-05:00

I seem to have run all out of deep thoughts lately. Not to worry. It is time for me to concentrate on some other things. I am moving this week and that takes all my time. I started a new medication which just knocked me out. And, of course, when I am busiest is when everyone wants my attention.

Today I am feeling alive again which is good since I have lots to do. I mean, seriously. LOTS.

Most of my books are packed away but I do have Streams of Mercy* by our own tribe member, Ann. I am going to share my very favorite meditation from that with you today. It's for Week Five of Epiphany, Monday. And the text is Hebrews 13:1-16.

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.

And here 's what Ann says about it:

Sharing a table at Starbucks
Strangers chatting
on our separate ways
Later the barista sweeps
upthe feathers along with the
crumpled napkins.

I love this because it speaks directly to my own blindness. Even at a place as common as Starbucks I might encounter the holy. But, do I see? Or do I grab my steamer and go? How often I get so busy yacking away that I forget that it's the handiwork of God sitting across from me, behind the counter, spilling a little mocha, leaving trash on the table. Yes, all of those.

This makes me want to slow down, look through the trash to see who is there, what beauty I missed.

I'll be off-line for a week or so. While I am gone, look for beauty in unexpected places!

You can get Ann's book from AuthorHouse or at Amazon. You can read more from the book at both sites.

*Fontaine, Ann Kristin Haldors. Streams of Mercy. AuthorHouse, 2005.

PS - I'll have a new email address, as well as a new physical address. If you feel you need that information, just leave a comment or email me at the old address in the next couple of days... well, today or tomorrow! and I'll get it right to you. I am not inclined to post it for all the world to see but I won't deny the rest of you.

Heaven Would Be A Nice Bonus

2008-07-08T02:49:00.003-05:00

I've been working with some people I just met. They know me better than I know them and one of the things they know is that I am religious. Probably they think I am some kind of protestant.

So one of them has been hanging around quite lot proclaiming to any who will listen that Jesus came and died so that we can all go to Heaven some day. He is just trying (in vain) to get my attention. I have been listening though.

Jesus came to Earth, he lived and died, so we can go to Heaven. That's what I am hearing. I've heard it a lot so I'm not confused. There's a quid pro quo: Jesus died = we go to Heaven. At least those of us who "accept Jesus" go to heaven. The others... well, good luck to them, eh? In any event I have not been overly amused.

I thought about it while I was out driving around this afternoon. My back in the driveway thought is that until you are willing to spend an eternity in Hell for love of your Lord, you haven't experienced Salvation at all.

Salvation.... I want to talk about that. Because it's not just salvation from Hell, not even salvation from karma. If I am not saved, healed from, and delivered out of the whole violent system then I want out. Salvation makes me indifferent to whether I am in Heaven or Hell as long as my Lord is pleased.

Remember the story I told you about Radha? She laughed at the other women who were worried that she would go to Hell. "How silly of you," she said. "If I am able to bring even a moments comfort to my Lord I would gladly spend eternity in Hell."

John Chrysostome did sort of go to Hell. He was roasted alive. And he wasn't the only one either. Lots of our brothers and sisters were burned, roasted, boiled, and worse for the sake of their faith.

There is a burning away of sin and self that happens to each of us too, if we can stand it. I don't know that it's Hell, per se. But, it's not Heaven either. Are we willing to bear it though for shear obedience, for nothing but love?

I sometimes wish it were so easy as accepting a free ticket to Disney-Heaven where I'll live forever in a kind of amusement park of eternal delights, you know, because I bought the right ticket. It's not like that though.

I am not sure I have a take-away on all that. I just hope that later, when I head back to my study and I sit quietly, waiting, that it will be for love, for sharing presence, for being. If I get to Heaven, well, that'll be a nice bonus.

Why I Love My Country

2008-07-04T20:52:00.002-05:00

Of course, there are lots of reasons not to love America these days. You don’t need me to review it for you. It’s not pretty. That’s all I’ll say.

But, I do love this country. My love is less to do with what America is today, or even the ideals of liberty on which it was founded. I love my country simply because it is my home.

My antecedents came here in the hope of a new and better life, unlimited by scarcity of land and diminishing opportunity. Oh, and one was running from a murder rap, and one was escaping the draft. But, despite their selfish motivations it was America that held hope for them, and it was in America that they were able to build new lives.

Only here, in my home, can I walk the pasture lands that grazed my great-grandfather’s sheep. It’s only here that I can put my own hands on the stones he laid for his family’s home, corral. Both still standing and still in use.

I can drive past the place where my grandfather first saw my grandmother. “She was the prettiest thing I ever did see,“ he once told me. And I thought I saw a tiny little tear in his eye but it could have been the sun. The house where he grew up is still standing. Barely.

I can still talk to people who went to elementary school with my grandparents and tell me stories of their childhood antics. I’ve learned, for example, that Aunt Toadie (actually Thelma) got her nickname because of my grandfather throwing frogs on her. She used to run around the house screaming, “Oh Albert… stoooooop.” And my granddaddy would switch directions and wait just around the corner from her and then throw another frog on her. They both grew up to be unbelievably respectable, community leaders and all. But, I have this one precious story to remind me that they were fully human too.

I can’t do any of those things anywhere else. Even the coolest, greenest, best educated countries can’t give me what I find right here at home, my own history.

What I need, what I’ve searched for all my life, is a sense of belonging and being connected to something. As a young woman I ran away from Texas just as fast as I could, certain that there was nothing here that was good for me. And at the time it was a good decision so no recriminations on that. It would’ve been bad if I’d stayed. But, I have been surprised to find that the demons I came back here to bury have led me to sources of the very thing I’ve been looking for all along. The silver lining is growing even as the thunder clouds recede. I am connected to the dusty hills of West Texas and the old families who dared to make it their home. I am not just floating, without ties to anything. There is a place where I belong. My home. The good and the bad. America.

An explanation and apology

2008-06-30T19:50:00.004-05:00

Dear Blog Friends,

I am sorry that I've not been in touch with you. Several weeks ago I thought I was starting a project that would take a week to ten days. I didn't think you'd even notice I was gone.

Turns out that this is more demanding than I'd realized and taking longer too. I wish I'd written to you sooner to let you know that I would be out of pocket. The time has slipped up on me though. A month has passed already.

I am still here, still fruity, and hale and hearty. Rowan is well too.

Please forgive me for ignoring you. As I've continued to pray for you and think about you this last month I realize that you really are more than "virtual" friends to me. You're real, after all. And my affection for you is real too. I know that some of you have been concerned for me, and I am sorry for causing you to worry.

I really find my lack of consideration in this matter pretty appalling. But, as you already know if you're a blog friend, I am prone to sin and screw-ups like the rest.

I am back in place for a few days. Planning trips to the bank, post office, stylist, and doctor. Just taking care of the things that have lapsed this month. I may not be back to regular blogging for another month or so. But, I will not neglect you in my prayers and I'll be back in the blog world soon.

Love,

Lindy

On an unrelated note...

2008-06-10T00:48:00.002-05:00

This is my new favorite picture of Rowan, my little dog. He knows he's supposed to place the ball at my feet but he loves playing tug-o-war with it.

In this picture he's "talking" to me, making the most unusual dog sounds you've ever heard.

Rowan has just posted some new photos on his own blog. It'd make him feel real good if you went right on over and gave them a look-see.

Here's the link.

Things Seen And Unseen

2008-06-07T18:46:00.001-05:00

Last night the moon was at less than ten percent, just the thinnest sliver. And black clouds were afoot in the black night and, as if from nowhere, they marched across the face of the moon sometimes making it go away entirely.

Because we are sophisticated and scientifically enlightened people living here in the 21st century, we know that clouds can't make the moon "go away." We further know that the moon was not only ten percent there last night. It's just that we could only see ten percent of it. the whole thing was still there... in darkness.

It's about what you can see... and what you can't.

When we sing or say the Shema we say the first verse at a normal volume, clear and strong:

Sh'ma Yis'ra'eil Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.

And the second verse:

Barukh sheim k'vod malkhuto l'olam va'ed.

is almost a whisper. Very, very, quietly...

The reason we do this is to remind us that sometimes we can hear God and sometimes we can't. God is there just the same, speaking just the same. Sometimes we hear, sometimes we don't.

It's about what we can hear... and what we can't.

In the same way, sometimes light shines on the cactus in a way that reveals the thorns...

And sometimes in a way that reveals the flowers.

But, look closely...Both are present...

The flower and the thorn grow from the same plant, receive their nourishment from the same source, come forth from the same ground.

It's about where the light shines... and where it doesn't.

I've been thinking about how much there is that I don't know, things I don't see at all, even though in a different light, come the morning, or on another day they may be clear.

I once knew a boy, nine or ten I'd say. And he took to meeting me in the courtyard outside my office in the morning times. I told him about the various plants and taught him how to identify several birds by the sound of their call. We talked about the seasons, his family, what he was studying in school. Originally I thought of him as an intrusion. Later, as a friend.

On the second to last day of school he came to the courtyard and we talked about his summer plans and mine. Then he said ten words that pierced my heart, "Thank you for teaching me how to pray this year."

Obviously if I had known that that's what we were doing, if the sun had shown in a different direction or if the clouds had moved and I'd realized that that's what we were doing... learning to pray! Obviously, I would have run screaming from the whole thing. But, it was the second to the last day of school. Too late to run.

I remember rattling off some things that both he and I have forgotten. I told him that prayer takes many forms, that his praying would change over the years and I hoped to Hell that he would be better at it than I am, that he would be more faithful, more honest, braver, truer. And after he left I prayed all that for him knowing what a poor and weak teacher he'd had. ...Also hoping that his agnostic parents didn't find out.

I think that more often than we realize, we are not at all doing what it is we think we are doing. My young friend was kind enough to tell me what I'd done. It wasn't what I'd thought. I thought I was just being kind to a boy who didn't have many adults in his life. I thought I was being a patient administrator. I thought a thousand things... but not that.

I want to have a greater awareness of these hidden things. I don't know how to do it. I am not sure I have that level of sensitivity, if I can be that aware. Sometimes God does have to be awfully blunt with me.

But, I am going to be looking. I am going to listen more closely. I am going to think outside the box to see what might be there. Because I don't want my life to be what it seems, and no more. I want to believe that in all the mundane, boring, insanely stupid things I do all day long there is at least a little bit of God and that He is doing something. Please, God, don't let it all be for nothing.

How Do You See Things?

&amp;lt;a href="http://www.mystudiyo.com/lid42830/mini/go/optical_illusions_challenge"&amp;gt;Optical Illusions Challenge&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

2008-06-06T20:20:00.000-05:00

Living No Longer For Ourselves

2008-06-05T02:16:00.002-05:00

Last week when we talked about Gloria Copeland's sermon on giving we somehow got off on this:

"He died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them."

Diane adds: Living no longer for ourselves. what would THAT look like?

There is a story I want to tell you about that. It's such a good story that I didn't want to just tell it and I had to go through some books to find a version of it that I really liked. This is from The Divine Romance, it's a collection of talks given by the master Paramahansa Yogananda. This is directly from the book:

"Krishna had many women disciples, but one favorite, Radah. Each disciple said to herself, "Krishna loves me more than anyone else." Still, because Krishna often talked of Radha, the others were envious of her. Noticing their jealousy, he wanted to teach them a lesson. So one day Krishna feigned a terrible headache. The anxious disciples expressed their great concern over the Master's distress. At last Krishna said, "The headache will go away if one of you will stand on my head and massage it with your feet." The horrified devotees exclaimed, "We cannot do this, You are God, the Lord of the Universe. It would be highest sacrilege to desecrate your form by touching your sacred head with our feet!"

The Master was pretending an increase of his pain when Radha came on the scene. She ran to her Lord, saying, "What can I do for you?" Krishna made the same request of her that he had made of the other devotees. Radha immediately stood on his head; the Master's "pain" disappeared, and he fell asleep. The other disciples angrily dragged Radha away from the sleeping form.

"We will kill you," they threatened.

"But why?"

"You dare to step on the head of the Master?"

"What of it?" Radha protested, "Did it not free him from his pain?"

"For such a sacrilege you will go to the lowest stratum of Hades."

"Oh, is that what you are worrying about?" Radha smiled. "I would gladly live there forever if it would make him happy for a second.":

Then the all bowed down to Radha, They understood why Krishna favored her; for Radha alone had no thought for herself, but only for her Lord's comfort."

Obviously, there's a lot to think about there.

What would happen to our ideas about what is sacrilege if we were like Radha?
What "sacrileges" would Jesus just as soon us give up?
When I insist that others conform to religious expectations am I really just envious?
Am I willing to risk going to "hell" to bring a moments comfort to Jesus?

YIKES! But, that is a pretty good example of what it means to live entirely for someone else. I'm not saying I do it. I am not sure I'm even trying very hard. But, there it is.

Summer Meme From Presbyterian Gal

2008-06-03T00:40:00.004-05:00

I got tagged by PresbyterianGal for this fun Summertime meme. Here you go...

1 - What first tells you Summer is here?
Suddenly there are more kids in need of supervision or a hobby and they all want to be where I am.

2 - Name five of your favorite distinctively Summer habits or customs.
I'm a little like the Almighty on that. I never change. I guess I move some of my outdoor activities to the morning. That's about it.

3 - What is your favorite smell of Summer?
I guess I just don't smell of that much stuff.

4 - What is your favorite taste of Summer?
I do like a cold watermelon. Even better with cold vodka injected into it.
Pear tomatoes
Figs

5 - Favorite Summer Memory?
I really like Spring and fall. Summer is a time of misery. I am not sure I have any really fabulous memories of Summer per se. The first day of Fall... Now, that I could maybe come up with some memories for.

6- Extreme hear or extreme cold? Which would you choose and why?
We don't have to choose. I am glad for that. But, again, I like the moderate temperatures. I like sweaters, not coats. I like short sleeves, not bikinis.

7 - What books do you plan to read for the season?
Well it doesn't have anything to do with the "season," such as it is, but I plan to do some re-reading. Judith Antionelli's Feminist Commentary On The Torah is one that I want to re-read. Maybe a few others that I feel I rushed through.

8 - How does Summer affect your faith? Is it a hindrance or an ally?
It does not affect me at all. Maybe it's harder to get away for a retreat but that's so hard anyway I don't see that Summer makes much difference.

Summer annoys me. I think all those children should be in school or detention camps... I don't really care which. I think most of their parents should be there too. It's hot. Too hot. I have to leave my dog home most of the time because he can't stay in the car by himself for even a few minutes. In only a few weeks it will be too hot to do sports outside unless it's very early in the morning. Really, it's not a good idea. A lot of people seem to think that the whole Summer season is a time for them to take a vacation from common courtesy and, between you and me, they didn't behave all that well to begin with. I'm just waiting for winter, that's the only other season we get.

Joyce Meyer Redux

2008-06-01T07:52:00.004-05:00

A few weeks ago Joyce Meyer gave us quite a lot to think about with the statement:

If God is in control you don't need to know why..

Hat tip to Ann who helped us question how much control God has. Being crucified, after all, is not really the first thing you think of when you think of a divine being in control of the universe and everything. I let myself off the hook on that by just saying, Oh what an interesting idea... Leave it to our Ann.

But, later, after all of you had moved on to other things, Doxy came along and asked me for a legitimate opinion on that.

I'll admit that one of the things I like best about being an Anglican is that there's never really too much pressure to come up with answer. But, if I am honest, it is also sometimes an excuse to just leave things hanging and not articulate any position at all.

So, I thought about it. And then thought some more. Here is what I wrote to Doxy:

I've been thinking about this for a couple of days Doxy.

I believe that God is in control. I even believe that God, in Jesus, was in control on the cross. It was in not using the control he had -- and, in fact, giving it to others -- that Jesus' death became redemptive for the rest of us.

In writing about resisting evil Swami Vivekananda says this: "The one who from weakness does not resist, commits a sin, and therefore cannot receive any benefit from his nonresistance; while the other would commit a sin by offering resistance." Swami Prabhavanda explains that by saying that we must gather the power to resist; having gained it, we must renounce it.

I think that God has it. I think that Jesus had it. So does the Holy Spirit. It's a god-quality to have all power and knowledge and to also have control. But, the quality that runs parallel to that is the will to relinquish such power.

Now what that means to me in real life is that there are times when I -- not God -- have been granted control which is not really my own. The authority that Jesus gives us is not for us to use for ourselves, it's more of a trust. It obligates more than it empowers.

There is a temptation to take a fatalist approach and say "Oh, God is in control so I have no responsibility." But, the other temptation,the one which says we are in control, implies that we also set the agenda.

I think that it's in exercising control that has been given to us, and on behalf of an agenda that is not our own, that we find the right balance.

Thanks for getting me to think that through.

Lindy

And, in fairness to me, that IS an answer. It just seems real off-the-cuff to me. It's not something I've thought about very deeply and I would sure take some more grist for my mill if you guys have anything new to add.

Some of you may know that I was raised and educated by Baptists. The Baptists do believe that God is in control of everything all the time. That's pretty deep in me. Yet, it rings hollow in light of my own experience with God and what God asks of me. And then there's that nagging image of God hanging on a tree.

So, I am still in process on that. I am not sure what it means if God is not in control. I'm not too worried about it because, deep down, I believe that He IS! And that just makes it more difficult for me to think it through.

Oh God, forgive me when I accept the questions too easily and fail to wrestle with the gift of their difficulty. There's so much I don't know. But, I thank you... thank you, thank you, thank you, that it's never been about what I know, how much I understand. Lead me into what I need to know, and help me release the rest.

My High Hopes

2008-05-29T08:29:00.006-05:00

The Gospel reading for yesterday -- at least for the Greek Orthodox -- was the story of the feeding of the five thousand. You all know the story so I am not going to recap it for you here.

What has been rattling around in my head on it is the part where everybody has eaten their fill and the disciples are picking up the left overs. Do you remember exactly what it says about that? Here it is:

And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, "Gather up the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost."


It's the "...that nothing may be lost" part that's got me thinking.

I have heard people say that nothing is ever wasted, that God finds a way to use everything.

I want to believe that. I do. But, there are some things about me that seem pretty unredeemable. And it seems like maybe they should be wasted. You know, you've got to know when to cut your losses. There are some things... I just don't see it.

I hate to be so faithless.

If God is going to gather up the scraps of my life that means He will see them I suppose. My inclination is to ignore them. "Oh, those little scraps... well, Lord, let's just leave those." I want to move on without God seeing some things. There are some things that it would be easier to loose, rather than have them exposed to the light of redemption. Ouch! Couldn't we just leave a few scraps?

"...that nothing may be lost."

I believe in miracles. I've seen God turn heart anguish into bliss. He's done it for me! Yet there is a piercing, there is pain in such transformation and for some reason I continually avoid it.

I hope it's true. I hope that God can make something of the useless and irredeemable pieces of me.

I hope I am not too much in His way.

Such high hopes early this morning.

A Question From The Devil

2008-05-26T11:37:00.007-05:00

I’ve been watching TV again. This time I’ve clicked past the glitz of the sparkly clad Joyce Meyer and opted for the folksy down-home preaching of Gloria Copeland. You may know Gloria. She’s the prosperous wife of the prosperous Kenneth Copeland. They’re prosperous.

I’ve got nothing against prosperity, by the way. I wish I had a little more of it to be honest. But I was not all together comfortable with Gloria’s sermon about it.

Gloria says that God wants us to prosper. And, I think that She probably does. I’m just not sure that God and I are on the same page about what prosperity really is. And, I’m not too sure about Gloria either.

Gloria told us that we should tithe, and I agree with that too. She says that if you can’t afford to tithe then, “Man, you need to tithe quick!” She says that if you truly don’t have any money, then you can just go around your house and find some stuff to give away. Don’t send that crap to me though. Give it to Good Will, OK?

Of course, Gloria quoted some scripture for us. She’s a Bible Believer, don’t you know. She seems especially fond of Luke 6:38:

Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.

And, you know what, that IS in there. And I believe it’s more or less true, just like everything else in there.

I have a question about that though. And, I’ll tell you where I got my question. I got it from the devil. And before you call Gloria to schedule an exorcism for me let me tell you my question. The question I have this morning is, Why does that matter… all that pressed down, running over business? I mean, is that why we give? Are we motivated only by what’s in it for us? That doesn’t seem quite right to me.

You may not know Gloria Copeland but I’ll bet you do know the devil… especially you Lutherans.

The story is that the devil had just come in from a tour of the world and he went to see God. God asks the devil what he’s been up to and the devil tells God all about his experiences of walking up and down on the earth. So, God asked the devil if he happen to see a fella’ called Job. “He’s upright and blameless,” says God proudly. Unimpressed, the devil responds with our question for today,

“Does Job fear God for nothing? Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has? "

"Shoot,” says the devil, “anyone would be faithful to you if you took care of them the way you care for Job.” OK, maybe a little interpretative license there. But, you know what I mean.

If I were speculating, and I am, I’d guess that the devil HAD noticed Job. How else would he have known about the fence? The fence is “…on every side,” the devil reports.

Well, except for a few assorted heathen types, you all are Bible readers. You know what happens next. But, this is not really about Job. We are way off track if you think this is about Job. That would be too easy. This is about us. Why are we faithful?

I suspect that there are as many ways to be faithful as there are lovers of God, and I would also say that there are probably as many reasons. Sometimes I do get something out of it. Maybe a peaceful easy feeling, or a feeling that I am a little bit holy. I love that. I do. Sometimes I even feel that all my praying does something. We're silly creatures, aren't we?

But, again just speculating, I suspect that it is when we get nothing and yet remain faithful that we are truly blessed. It’s a way of believing without seeing. It’s steadfast.

I know, I know… before you say it… I know that it’s hard. And I’m not telling you that you should be faithful. I don’t know why any of us remain faithful. It’s a big mystery to me, people and their responses to God. I can’t even explain my own small faithfulness. But, to be totally honest, I don’t think any of us have fences around us the way Job did. And so I wonder what does motivate us. I think that’s a good question even if it did come from the devil.

I want to make sure that my own answer is more along the lines of loving God, and not so much about the stuff that God might give me.

Just something to think about…

A happy Memorial Day to all. Rowan and I are going out to the lake to see some friends and hang out. Nothing too fancy but a good time will be had by all. Rowan has some new balls and a new shirt which is real sporty. You know how the dog loves to dress up!

I love you all.

Teach Me To Fear Nothing But The Loss of You

2008-05-22T04:55:00.007-05:00

My computer is usually still sleeping at this time of day but for some reason -- maybe for THIS reason -- I sat down here this morning for a quick look at the internets. Nicked from Susan Russell's Inch At A Time blog, this spoke to me this morning.

Most Loving God, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you, and to cast all our care on you who care for us: Preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, that no clouds from this mortal life may hide from us the light of that love which is immortal, and which you have manifested to us in your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

I started crying at the end of the second line.

I have been so discouraged lately. It really has been two steps forward, three steps backward, or something like that. I'm not that good at the math. But, it does seem like things are not moving forward for me. And -- I mean, it just seems cosmically bad.

Realistically, I have a lot to be thankful for. I am in the habit of counting my blessings more than my sorrows. Somehow God has kept me both alive and out of either prison or the nut farm all these years and if that sounds mildly amusing to you... well, you just don't know where I came from.

I am lucky that I know how to be happy when the Sun shines, or if a flower blooms, or an ant crawls. There's hardly anything I won't send up a little prayer of thanksgiving and wonder for. I know what a blessing that is, just to be aware. And I am thankful for that too.

But I also know that I don't have the personal resources that some people have. That is not usually the first thing I think about in the morning but... some days... after sleepless nights. Sometimes my deficits just seem more apparent. I won't bore you with that.

Sometimes my worldly anxieties do cloud my vision. I often totally loose sight of any spiritual reality and fret over all kinds of things. And my troubles seem big to me when they're up close like that.

I wonder if my heart can know God at all or if it's too hard and dumb.

It is time to toddle on back to my study.

Please God, hear me, and teach me to fear nothing but the loss of you.
Abandon not the work of your own hands. Not now... don't give up now.

And then Susan gives us the reading from Isaiah too and I'll paste that in here for you because that's just the kind of blogger I am.

Thus says our God: “At the time of my favor I will answer you, on the day of salvation I will help you. I will keep you, and appoint you to be a covenant people. I will restore the land and assign you the properties that have lain waste. I will say to the prisoners, ‘Come out!’ and to those who are in darkness, ‘Show yourselves!’ ...

My Favorite Book

2008-05-20T02:00:00.009-05:00

You may remember that back when I had my old blog, Diane tagged me to reveal to you the one single book which I absolutely could not live without. Just for good measure I couldn't name the Bible, which I might not have named anyway. And, I suppose that for those liturgical types our prayer books are excluded too.

I was sorely tempted to do some kind of sneaky compromise which allowed me to name one dozen books, or all the books on one book shelf, instead of just one single book. But, for once in my life I am actually following the rules and I will now reveal to you the one book I wouldn't want to give up:

Tao Te Ching
by Lao Tsu
translated by Gia-Fu and Jane English

Sometimes when I need perspective, I turn here. It helps me remember that this life is short, that I may not know so much as I think, and that softness, a supple spirit, will survive almost anything while hardness will break.

Lao Tsu's basic teaching is that the Tao that can be told is not the real, or eternal, Tao. Interestingly, and unlike so many in other traditions, Lao Tsu doesn't presume to tell us what the eternal Tao is. He just reminds us that if we think we know what it is, we don't.

The legend is that, heartsick at the state of the world, Lao Tsu was on his way out to the desert to die. As he passed the gate going out of northwestern China the gatekeeper persuaded him to write down his teachings for posterity.

As a blogger I sometimes think about that and I wonder what I would write if it were the last thing I would ever post. What is my own basic teaching? Fortunately, I have the rest of my life to get that worked out.

Here's a chapter of Lao Tsu's teaching which I like a lot:

Yield and overcome;
Bend and be straight;
Empty and be full;
Wear out and be new;
Have little and gain;
Have much and be confused.

Therefore wise men embrace the one
And set an example to all.
Not putting on a display,
They shine forth.
Not justifying themselves,
They are distinguished.
Not boasting,
They receive recognition.
Not bragging,
They never falter.
They do not quarrel,
So no one quarrels with them.
Therefore the ancients say, "Yield and overcome."
Is that an empty saying?
Be really whole,
And all things will come to you.

Thanks for this cool Meme Diane. I enjoyed spending some extra time going through my books and thinking about which I really like most. I am tagging Grendel because I want to know what dogs really read, Alcibiades because he's so interesting, Barbi because she's so cool, my favorite cousin Sherry, and Ann because I just want to hear her answer. Ann's book is another one I reach for pretty often. Unfortunately, I've given away my copy of Streams Of Mercy AGAIN so I'll be ordering another one.

Love to everybody.

You can read Barbi's answer here.
You can read Alcibiades's answer here.

Doubt and Discipleship

2008-05-18T08:10:00.005-05:00

The Gospel reading for this week was Matthew 28:16-20. It's short so I'll cut and paste it for you:

"The eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

I had not noticed that the whole passage, to the end of the chapter, is about the disciples. And, when they saw Jesus, they worshiped him and some of them doubted too. The disciples! Doubters. This doesn't seem to bother either Jesus or the author of Matthew. The writer takes sort of a wheat and tares approach to it, letting everything go on as it is knowing that it will all get sorted out in the end. Here, as in most of our churches and, if we are honest in our own hearts, doubt and discipleship go together. And, it's not such a big deal.

A blessed Feast of the Resurrection and a happy Trinity Sunday to you.

What I Learned From Joyce Meyer Today

2008-05-15T07:26:00.005-05:00

"If God is in control then you don't need to know why."

I don't usually watch the Joyce Meyer TV show. I don't like the clothes she wears, I don't like her theology, and I don't like the way she talks. The whole thing makes me feel like I'm at a washateria. But I am curious enough about Joyce that if I happen to run across one of her TV sermons I'll stop and listen for a few minutes. This is what she said on my TV yesterday.

If God is in control then you don't need to know why.

If I were guessing, I'd say that fully half of the angst in my life is over the question of why. I won't give you a litany of all my big WHY questions. You probably have enough of your own without hearing mine.

Why... all those things. Why indeed. And I've spent a good deal of time thinking, praying and bitching about my own why questions. But all of them boil down to WHY. Why.

I am a Christian, have been for a long time. I know that God is in control. I do. I know it. Yet I feel almost as if I have a right to know why certain things are the way they are. Not that I question God but sometimes it does seem like He may not have all the facts. If only I knew what God was thinking, maybe I could be of some assistance, helpful soul that I am.

In her own special way, Joyce Meyer finally gave me the perspective I've been missing on that. Probably the rest of you were reluctant to say it to me. But, it's just none of my business. What God does, why God does it... It's none of my business. I don't need to know.

I find it easier to trust God when God is doing things that I understand, especially if they are kind of in the direction I was trying to lead Him anyway... Know what I mean? But, if I really have any confidence in God, if I have any faith at all, then maybe I will get out of the business of monitoring God's activities and allow myself to be the subject of them, maybe I will stop passing judgment on God's reasoning and accept the fact that it is too high up there for me, maybe -- just maybe -- I can stop being God and let God do it for awhile.

Our Joyce

Pausing for Pentecost

2008-05-13T12:12:00.003-05:00

Christ may be born a thousand times in Bethlehem, but if he be not born anew within your own heart, you remain eternally forlorn. -- Angelus Silisius

I guess this is kind of how I’ve been feeling about Pentecost this year. Pentecost and Shavou’ot being twin celebrations for me, you understand… Hang on and I’ll show you why I can’t possibly be a Christian without also being a Jew.

Shavou’ot is not until June 10 (6 Sivan on the Hebrew calendar) but it is still linked to Pentecost and by more than just its name. On Shavou’ot we remember the time we were given Torah. It was at Mount Sinai and all us Jews were there, not just Moshe and Aharon. I was there, Fran was there, Diane, Paul, Mike, Kristen, Ann, Mimi, everyone. Women separate from the men for the first time in 400 years. What a grand gathering that must have been -- Me and my sisters singing and dancing while we wait for Moshe to return. (You know, after the golden calf business.) And then Torah was given. How I wish I could remember that day!

There is great anticipation leading up to Shavou’ot/Pentecost/Hag Matan Torateinu. (You can call it a lot of things. Still, it’s the same thing.) It’s so eagerly awaited that we count the days, 50 of them, between Peasach/Passover and Shavou’ot/Pentecost/Weeks. This is called “Counting The Omer” and it’s a mitzvot to do it, highly spiritualized by some Kabbalists.

At Pesach we are physically brought out of slavery. Fifty days later, on Shavou’ot, we are brought out of Spiritual bondage through the gift of the Torah, the written word of God. That’s the connection, thus we count a golden number of days from one to the other in celebration of freedom, new life.

Then along comes Jesus. The word incarnate. And by his coming we have new life, we are freed from the law of the written Torah and given a new commandment -- love. Just as it was hard for the Israelites to learn how to live as free people and they needed Torah to guide them, so do we find ourselves in new territory with this new commandment and we too need a guide. And just at the moment of greatest disorientation, when it feels like we may never be able to live within the new law, the Holy Spirit is given.

I hope I can celebrate Pentecost in Italy someday because I heard that in some churches they throw rose petals off the balcony onto the worshipers and I would like to see that. I’d like to look up and see fiery rose petals coming toward me, feel them land on me.

For fifty days now we’ve been in this incomprehensible place where Jesus dies, then he lives; we see him, then we don’t, then we do. And all the while he is reminding us of his hardest teachings. It IS dizzying. Then, when we are good and confused, Jesus leaves. Oy g’veigh! We need help. And here she comes, just in the nick of time too as hope was dwindling.

There are things that we don’t know, trials we would run from, devils lying in wait for us. And God’s response to that is not a book, or a bush, or even a prophet, all of which would be easier to deal with. God responds with a presence. The onus is no longer on something external -- the priest or an angelic messenger -- from now on we are responsible for hearing and delivering God’s living word. We are free from the tyranny of hierarchical rulers and bound to a tyranny of love and all its demands, free from the rule of the tribe, and the rule of the law, and bound to the rule of love.

So, you can have Torah, the Bible, and all the priest, rules, dogmas, and doctrines you want. If there’s not something of love, something real in the heart, then, as Angelus Silisius says, you [we] remain eternally forlorn.

Let there be love.

Our Ultimate Standard

2008-05-11T22:31:00.008-05:00

Peter Jasper Akinola (left) the Archbishop and Primate of Nigeria and Several American Parishes and General Anglican Big-Shot, has issued a statement on polygamy. Try to be serious now…

As usual, I am having difficulty following Peter's logic. Also as usual, it's his Bible teaching I am having a hard time with.

From the article:

He [Big Pete] also said that any attempt to trivialise the Bible’s teaching on monogamy as the ultimate standard for the Christian family “will make a mockery of whatever else we stand for.

I am not so sure about this Bible teaching concerning polygamy. “Ultimate standard” and everything….

I am trying to figure out why Peter would say such a thing. I guess it's because of Jesus being monogamous. And, we do all want to be like Jesus don’t we?

Oh, wait. Humm..... As best as I can tell Jesus was celibate. And even if he weren’t, I'm pretty sure he wasn’t married. Wink-wink.

Well, I guess it’s because Jesus talked about it so much then.

But, hold on... That doesn’t make much sense either does it?

So, what gives on the “ultimate standard?” About all Jesus said is that we are supposed to try and be like Him. And, on marriage, he said it doesn’t matter too much because we won’t have that in the Kingdom Of God anyway.

Nowhere is polygamy prohibited. Nowhere is monogamy exalted as any kind of standard, certainly not the ultimate one.

I understand that sometimes polygamy is a brutal way of life for women and that there might be some reasons to look at it askance. I also understand that there were times when all marriage was brutal. We have been willing to let monogamous marriage develop into something new, why not polygamous marriage too? I’ve got nothing against it. Apparently Jesus didn't either. But, neither is the “ultimate standard” I don't think.

Want to know what the real “ultimate standard” is? Because I can tell you.

Ready?

You think I don’t know, but I do. Honest.

I’ll bet my protestant friends have already said it under their breath.

It’s Jesus.

That’s it. The one true and ultimate standard of our faith is Jesus .

It may seem hard to relate to a standard like that... Jesus being the Son of God and all. But, when you are talking quietly with Jesus, remember that he is your brother. You can ask him for right desires. After that, see what is in your heart. You just may find that you have a desire to marry one or more people. You may have a desire for more quite talking, or silence, or if you are lucky celibacy. But, the standard is that the desire itself was forged in the dynamic life of the Trinity, shot into your own heart with Jesus’ bow, delivered on the arrow of the Holy Spirit.

You are not under the authority of any book or bishop. You are a free child of God -- A king, a member of a royal priesthood. You know whether or not to marry, and who to marry, and even, possibly, who else to marry.

Stay close to your standard. Check in all the time, never cease with that. Keep your heart ready for piercing by the arrow and the flowering of whatever follows.

Oh, and when you are talking with Jesus you might want to mention Big Pete… maybe Jesus will pierce his heart too. God only knows.

2008-05-11T06:23:00.002-05:00

From the ever brilliant Dave Walker: