Lindy's Epiphany Thought

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

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

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

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!

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!

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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.



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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!

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

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

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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

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.