Susan's blog, This Passage contains a link to the website God Hates Shrimp. It shows what happens if we take the sort of injunctions found in Leviticus literally. It'll either make you laugh or cry.
From the About this Site section:
As you may have realized, this site is a parody. It is meant to poke fun at people like Fred Phelps, and at people who protest against gay people and gay marriage.
The point we're trying to make is that by using the Old Testament (specifically the book of Leviticus) as a basis for protesting gay marriage, you run into a couple of problems. The first is that in the New Testament, Jesus established the New Covenant, which stated that the old Mosaic laws about unclean things were invalid (Jesus in his own person said nothing specifically against homosexuality, although Paul later attributed some remarks to him). The second reason is that if you still want to quote from Leviticus, despite Jesus' doing away with Mosaic law, then you better be prepared to enforce the whole thing, not just the parts you like. This includes not only the injunction against shellfish and mussels and such, but also against wearing fabrics made of blended fibers, cutting or shaving your beard, sowing mixed seed in a field, and a slew of other things nobody but Orthodox Jews take seriously anymore.
28 April 2007
15 April 2007
Sermon, Easter 2
It's good to be back after the Holy Week and Easter hiatus.
I wanted to share this sermon, that evolved in a very non-traditional way. My best friend (and seminary housemate) Sarah woke up early this am to type up her sermon, which had been marinating for days. Her fabulous, but mischievous, kitten Zuko dumped a pint glass of water onto her laptop, effectively destroying it. And so she called me at 4am. Together, we created this sermon, which was so much better than what I'd originally planned to say, that I preached it too. Hope you enjoy it.
Poor old Thomas always gets a bad rap. He’s gone down in history as Doubting Thomas, but he’s just like the rest of us would be in that situation. And it’s not like any of his beloved colleagues completely understood the Resurrection and were waiting at the door for Jesus with their hands on their hips, saying, “Well, it’s about time you showed up! Where you have been?!?”
No, in fact, Thomas was no different from the other disciples; they saw and then believed. Thomas needed his own experience. It doesn’t make him a ‘doubter’. The truth of it is – none of us lives in a vacuum.
Where’ all shaped by the things that happen to us, the things we participate in. This is profound because it means that we are NOT shaped by other people’s experiences, we’re shaped by our own.
That Thomas returned from wherever he was, and the disciples said, “This thing happened to us,” – was not enough for Thomas to be transformed. And, it’s not enough for us, either. We, like Thomas have to have our own experiences.
We can only deeply know, with that sort of knowledge that is in our bones, that knowing that comes from our gut, that knowledge that our hearts can totally embrace – we can only deeply know what we have experienced – some how, some way experienced to be true ourselves.
You see this everywhere.
You see this in the situation that was so funny when you were there, first hand, experiencing it, and yet – as you try to retell it, recapture it, as you try to describe the experience to someone else – it’s not the same. It’s not as funny. Sort of recreating the entire scenario for them, it’s just not the same. And it’s not the same, because humor is one of those things that requires a lot of understanding based on previous experience, and humor is itself experiential. As they say, “if you have to explain the joke, it’s not funny anymore.”
Experience.
Experience is the key to relationships, as well. Take cousins, for example. I have a number of cousins, but I’m not really close to any of them. That is because we’ve not had very many shared experiences. Now, my cousins are blood relations, and I’ve inherited a connection to them that few other people in this world are privileged to, but that doesn’t mean too much to me.
With only one exception, I simply don’t know them from a hole in the wall. I don’t dislike them, mind, but neither could I describe my feelings for them as love. My feelings for these cousins are pretty much neutral. I feel this way because we don’t have a relationship together - we never did.
Relationship isn’t something you can compel. You can put yourself in proximity to it. If you want to have a relationship with someone, you spend time with them. If you want to have a relationship with someone, you make yourself available to them, you have fun with them. You see, we’re back to experience.
The surest way to kill a relationship is to cut off the flow of experiences – to neglect the relationship and the person, or thing you’re having a relationship with, be that a friend, a partner, a project you are working on, your studies at school, or a new creative inspiration you just had.
So, what does all of this have to do with our friend Thomas? It seems to me that all the sermons in the world, all the stories, all the poetry, all the music only takes us so far. Sermons and stories and music and poetry are all ways of coming into proximity with God, but the rest is up to us. We need to experience God for ourselves, just like Thomas. At some level, for this thing called faith in God to take, we need to have experiences of God.
Now, these can happen in a variety of ways, and despite the fact that we need to have experiences as Thomas needed to have an experience, it doesn’t mean our experience is going to look exactly like his.
Depending on who we are and what we need, our experience of God is going to be different. It could be through the sermon, or the music, or the readings, yes. It could be through the bread and the wine. It could be at prayer, it could be in the eyes of the people we serve, when we get out into the community and help other people. It could be in the eyes of the people who help us, who show us spontaneous love. It could be during a walk on the beach or watching a sunset. It could happen when we least expect it. Really, it could be… anything.
But it needs to be something, because we can inherit religion, but we can’t inherit a relationship with God. That, each one of us needs to forge for ourselves. There are relationships that come down through history and land themselves in our laps, but for them to be anything but in name only, that relationship needs to be backed by experience.
And the good news is that God, our Beloved, is ‘here with only a thin membrane between us, and all it takes is a call from our lips, a whisper with no sound, for that veil,” that thin veil, to disappear.
I wanted to share this sermon, that evolved in a very non-traditional way. My best friend (and seminary housemate) Sarah woke up early this am to type up her sermon, which had been marinating for days. Her fabulous, but mischievous, kitten Zuko dumped a pint glass of water onto her laptop, effectively destroying it. And so she called me at 4am. Together, we created this sermon, which was so much better than what I'd originally planned to say, that I preached it too. Hope you enjoy it.
Poor old Thomas always gets a bad rap. He’s gone down in history as Doubting Thomas, but he’s just like the rest of us would be in that situation. And it’s not like any of his beloved colleagues completely understood the Resurrection and were waiting at the door for Jesus with their hands on their hips, saying, “Well, it’s about time you showed up! Where you have been?!?”
No, in fact, Thomas was no different from the other disciples; they saw and then believed. Thomas needed his own experience. It doesn’t make him a ‘doubter’. The truth of it is – none of us lives in a vacuum.
Where’ all shaped by the things that happen to us, the things we participate in. This is profound because it means that we are NOT shaped by other people’s experiences, we’re shaped by our own.
That Thomas returned from wherever he was, and the disciples said, “This thing happened to us,” – was not enough for Thomas to be transformed. And, it’s not enough for us, either. We, like Thomas have to have our own experiences.
We can only deeply know, with that sort of knowledge that is in our bones, that knowing that comes from our gut, that knowledge that our hearts can totally embrace – we can only deeply know what we have experienced – some how, some way experienced to be true ourselves.
You see this everywhere.
You see this in the situation that was so funny when you were there, first hand, experiencing it, and yet – as you try to retell it, recapture it, as you try to describe the experience to someone else – it’s not the same. It’s not as funny. Sort of recreating the entire scenario for them, it’s just not the same. And it’s not the same, because humor is one of those things that requires a lot of understanding based on previous experience, and humor is itself experiential. As they say, “if you have to explain the joke, it’s not funny anymore.”
Experience.
Experience is the key to relationships, as well. Take cousins, for example. I have a number of cousins, but I’m not really close to any of them. That is because we’ve not had very many shared experiences. Now, my cousins are blood relations, and I’ve inherited a connection to them that few other people in this world are privileged to, but that doesn’t mean too much to me.
With only one exception, I simply don’t know them from a hole in the wall. I don’t dislike them, mind, but neither could I describe my feelings for them as love. My feelings for these cousins are pretty much neutral. I feel this way because we don’t have a relationship together - we never did.
Relationship isn’t something you can compel. You can put yourself in proximity to it. If you want to have a relationship with someone, you spend time with them. If you want to have a relationship with someone, you make yourself available to them, you have fun with them. You see, we’re back to experience.
The surest way to kill a relationship is to cut off the flow of experiences – to neglect the relationship and the person, or thing you’re having a relationship with, be that a friend, a partner, a project you are working on, your studies at school, or a new creative inspiration you just had.
So, what does all of this have to do with our friend Thomas? It seems to me that all the sermons in the world, all the stories, all the poetry, all the music only takes us so far. Sermons and stories and music and poetry are all ways of coming into proximity with God, but the rest is up to us. We need to experience God for ourselves, just like Thomas. At some level, for this thing called faith in God to take, we need to have experiences of God.
Now, these can happen in a variety of ways, and despite the fact that we need to have experiences as Thomas needed to have an experience, it doesn’t mean our experience is going to look exactly like his.
Depending on who we are and what we need, our experience of God is going to be different. It could be through the sermon, or the music, or the readings, yes. It could be through the bread and the wine. It could be at prayer, it could be in the eyes of the people we serve, when we get out into the community and help other people. It could be in the eyes of the people who help us, who show us spontaneous love. It could be during a walk on the beach or watching a sunset. It could happen when we least expect it. Really, it could be… anything.
But it needs to be something, because we can inherit religion, but we can’t inherit a relationship with God. That, each one of us needs to forge for ourselves. There are relationships that come down through history and land themselves in our laps, but for them to be anything but in name only, that relationship needs to be backed by experience.
And the good news is that God, our Beloved, is ‘here with only a thin membrane between us, and all it takes is a call from our lips, a whisper with no sound, for that veil,” that thin veil, to disappear.
28 March 2007
Manager of The World....
This may be funnier to those of you from Western Mass....
The Episcopal Church publishes a biennial clergy directory. In some circles, I've heard it called The Stud Book because it lists parents, children, spouses (current and former!), etc. It also lists former positions.
As most of you know, I spent twelve years managing The World Eye Bookshop - the world's second best job - an independent bookstore in Greenfield, MA.
Today, I received the form toupdate my listing in the directory. It's filled with bits of trivia (like my father's middle name). And, it lists my former employment as Manager of The World from 1991 - 2003. OK. That's pretty cool. But, I'm feeling a bit like a slacker. You'd think I could have done something about poverty, AIDS, sexism, homophobia, or at least poison ivy while I was in charge, eh? It's been making me giggle for the last hour.
The language mishap reminds me of another more serious one. The headline in the Greenfield Recorder (our local paper) on January 8, 1996 created some confusion and fear. The headline, in about 40 point font read: Inferno Destroys World Eye. A fire on January 7, 1996 gutted our building; only our cat, a few metal shelves, and (miraculously) the computer's hard drive survived. We later learned that a woman visiting the area for the first time was thrown into momentary terror by the headline, fearing that some some cataclysmic event in space had imperiled the planet.
The store was named by its founder - who thought that books were your eye to the world around you - but the name has caused issues periodically. This latest one is the most amusing. I'm submitting my changes electronically so that I can keep the paper listing me as the manager of the world. It might come in handy sometime when I need to be excused from a nasty meeting or a parking ticket. (Don't I get some consideration here? I used to be the manager of the world!)
The Episcopal Church publishes a biennial clergy directory. In some circles, I've heard it called The Stud Book because it lists parents, children, spouses (current and former!), etc. It also lists former positions.
As most of you know, I spent twelve years managing The World Eye Bookshop - the world's second best job - an independent bookstore in Greenfield, MA.
Today, I received the form toupdate my listing in the directory. It's filled with bits of trivia (like my father's middle name). And, it lists my former employment as Manager of The World from 1991 - 2003. OK. That's pretty cool. But, I'm feeling a bit like a slacker. You'd think I could have done something about poverty, AIDS, sexism, homophobia, or at least poison ivy while I was in charge, eh? It's been making me giggle for the last hour.
The language mishap reminds me of another more serious one. The headline in the Greenfield Recorder (our local paper) on January 8, 1996 created some confusion and fear. The headline, in about 40 point font read: Inferno Destroys World Eye. A fire on January 7, 1996 gutted our building; only our cat, a few metal shelves, and (miraculously) the computer's hard drive survived. We later learned that a woman visiting the area for the first time was thrown into momentary terror by the headline, fearing that some some cataclysmic event in space had imperiled the planet.
The store was named by its founder - who thought that books were your eye to the world around you - but the name has caused issues periodically. This latest one is the most amusing. I'm submitting my changes electronically so that I can keep the paper listing me as the manager of the world. It might come in handy sometime when I need to be excused from a nasty meeting or a parking ticket. (Don't I get some consideration here? I used to be the manager of the world!)
17 March 2007
What I had to cut from my sermon
All across the diocese this weekend, congregations are joining together to pray for peace. We have added litanies for peace and special prayers of the people to our services. Many of us will use a Eucharistic prayer with a theme for peace. And, we divided up the names of all of the US servicemen and women who have died in Iraq, and each congregation will pray for about 150 of them by name.
All that is to say that I wrote what seemed like a great introduction to my sermon and then realized that with all the other stuff in the service, my sermon needs to be shorter, rather than longer. So, as I was quite pleased with my reflection, I wanted somebody to read it. Here goes:
There are certain events in this country's history that are iconic. These events have had such a profound impact on our national consciousness, that they are permanently burned into our collective memory.
I have yet to meet a person who was over the age of five when President Kennedy was shot who could not tell me precisely where he or she was when they heard the news of his assassination. Many can describe the days that followed his shooting, and what they did.
The same is true for the September 11th attacks. Nearly all of us can tell the story of where we were and what we were doing when the news of that terrible morning became known. I myself was in a meeting at the local Chamber of Commerce. One of the office staff came in, looking stricken, and turned on the television. We were all surprised, as we were working on a project. When Marian explained that a plane had struck one of the towers, we stopped to watch, and like many, saw the second plane hit. Shock. Fear. Tears. All work ceased, as we remained glued to the television. The whole day took on a strange character. The bookstore was crowded, but not with people who were shopping. Instead, people came in to talk.
There are two other moments that are also burned into my consciousness. This country has declared war twice in my adult lifetime. And in both cases, I had been hoping and praying that diplomacy would win out. The news of both Operation Desert Storm and the War in Iraq were bitter disappointments.
On January 16, 1991, I was in Sylvester's bar in Northampton, MA - having dinner with friends. The lively bar scene grew suddenly quiet as all TVs filled with the image of news commentators announcing that "the liberation of Kuwait has begun." I remember sitting in stunned silence. I remember shock, fear, and tears that night, as well.
In March 2003, I was at Virginia Theological Seminary, interviewing for admission. I was visiting with the one student I knew, when she suddenly burst into tears. The war in Iraq had begun, she told me. I was crushed. That evening, I joined members of the community in the chapel to pray.
Ironically, on Thursday in Ironwood, we were watching a video of the Archbishop of Canterbury, ++Rowan Williams; it was filmed in April of 2003. It might be premature, he told the audience, to talk of a great victory in Iraq, at this point. How right he proved to be, in this regard.
OK - must finish my sermon - the one I'm preaching in about 12 hours!
All that is to say that I wrote what seemed like a great introduction to my sermon and then realized that with all the other stuff in the service, my sermon needs to be shorter, rather than longer. So, as I was quite pleased with my reflection, I wanted somebody to read it. Here goes:
There are certain events in this country's history that are iconic. These events have had such a profound impact on our national consciousness, that they are permanently burned into our collective memory.
I have yet to meet a person who was over the age of five when President Kennedy was shot who could not tell me precisely where he or she was when they heard the news of his assassination. Many can describe the days that followed his shooting, and what they did.
The same is true for the September 11th attacks. Nearly all of us can tell the story of where we were and what we were doing when the news of that terrible morning became known. I myself was in a meeting at the local Chamber of Commerce. One of the office staff came in, looking stricken, and turned on the television. We were all surprised, as we were working on a project. When Marian explained that a plane had struck one of the towers, we stopped to watch, and like many, saw the second plane hit. Shock. Fear. Tears. All work ceased, as we remained glued to the television. The whole day took on a strange character. The bookstore was crowded, but not with people who were shopping. Instead, people came in to talk.
There are two other moments that are also burned into my consciousness. This country has declared war twice in my adult lifetime. And in both cases, I had been hoping and praying that diplomacy would win out. The news of both Operation Desert Storm and the War in Iraq were bitter disappointments.
On January 16, 1991, I was in Sylvester's bar in Northampton, MA - having dinner with friends. The lively bar scene grew suddenly quiet as all TVs filled with the image of news commentators announcing that "the liberation of Kuwait has begun." I remember sitting in stunned silence. I remember shock, fear, and tears that night, as well.
In March 2003, I was at Virginia Theological Seminary, interviewing for admission. I was visiting with the one student I knew, when she suddenly burst into tears. The war in Iraq had begun, she told me. I was crushed. That evening, I joined members of the community in the chapel to pray.
Ironically, on Thursday in Ironwood, we were watching a video of the Archbishop of Canterbury, ++Rowan Williams; it was filmed in April of 2003. It might be premature, he told the audience, to talk of a great victory in Iraq, at this point. How right he proved to be, in this regard.
OK - must finish my sermon - the one I'm preaching in about 12 hours!
13 March 2007
Could it be... Spring?
It's been downright balmy here in the UP over the last few days. It was, honest to God, 70 degrees today in Marquette. I walked around all day with no jacket on. Hooray!
Snow is melting, and small creatures are starting to appear. The bad news: I've killed two wee rodents - perhaps chipmunks - in the last few days, as they've been scampering about with abandon and not paying any attention to the big cars on the road!
I also saw another eagle, close up. It was eating something dead in the ditch, and flew up beside me as I drove past.
Last week, I learned to snow shoe, great fun. There was still plenty of snow, so we walked on the beach by my house for 2.5 hours. It was great. Both yesterday and today I've had brisk walks, enjoying the warmth and the sun.
The bad news is that it's supposed to be back to twenty, or so, by the morning. We'll see.
Snow is melting, and small creatures are starting to appear. The bad news: I've killed two wee rodents - perhaps chipmunks - in the last few days, as they've been scampering about with abandon and not paying any attention to the big cars on the road!
I also saw another eagle, close up. It was eating something dead in the ditch, and flew up beside me as I drove past.
Last week, I learned to snow shoe, great fun. There was still plenty of snow, so we walked on the beach by my house for 2.5 hours. It was great. Both yesterday and today I've had brisk walks, enjoying the warmth and the sun.
The bad news is that it's supposed to be back to twenty, or so, by the morning. We'll see.
07 March 2007
It must be quiz week!
Sue sent this quiz link along. Apparently my intelligence style is Interpersonal Intelligence. It's not as sexy as, say, artistic or kinesthetic, but I guess I must be in the right line of work, eh?
| Your Dominant Intelligence is Interpersonal Intelligence |
 You would make a good counselor, salesperson, politician, or business person. |
06 March 2007
Sermon for Lent 2
I meant to post this yesterday, but I thought that two new posts in one day was plenty. The fascinating part, for me, was that I preached this in Iron River - the most conservative congregation I work with. I didn't feel like I had too much choice about that - the word came, and I preached it.
After the service, the woman I'd heard was most conservative met me in the receiving line and said, "Thank you for your sermon. I really appreaciated it." My articulate response was, "Really?" And she said, "Yes, You've really opened my eyes to [and here she dropped her voice] gay people. I mean, I've never thought about [and here, she whispered, sort of like those older women who can't say cancer out loud] lesbians like that before." Now, friends, I confess that I wimped out. I didn't ask her in WHAT way. I decided that she'd already taken enough of a step.
So, here it is:
When I first read this morning's gospel, I was touched by the behavior of the Pharisees. It seemed to me that they were doing a nice thing. They were coming to Jesus, telling him that he was in danger, and that he should head out of town before harm came to him. It was a level of care and concern that I had not previously noticed from the Pharisees.
But, the more I thought about the passage, the more suspicious I grew of their good behaviour. After all, the Pharisees -- and there are a couple of notable exceptions -- were not a collection of people who seemed particularly concerned with Jesus or his well-being.... Unless, of course, it impacted them. Then, they were concerned, not for Jesus, but for their own safety and security.
So, what's really going on in this passage? Why does it appear in the lectionary during Lent? What does it say to us on our Lenten journey?
To give the Pharisees a little credit, they were in a tough spot. They were stuck between the temple and the Roman leaders. In this time of social upheaval and foreign invasion, they located the idea of salvation in getting their religious practices right. They were the ones who were concerned with the right practice of the Jewish religion and putting forward a proper appearance. Their strong motivator was to keep the Roman invaders off the backs of the Jewish faithful. So, their behaviour was not entirely selfish. But, in the passage that we hear this morning, it seems that these Pharisees, were not so much about trying to protect Jesus from Herod, as they were trying to protect the faith and the faithful from the volatile Roman invaders. Their motivator was to get this radical troublemaker Jesus the heck out of Dodge!
Remember, that from the beginning of his ministry, Jesus placed the needs and best interests of the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the victimized, and the imprisoned at the forefront. Particularly in Luke's gospel, he talks repeatedly about overthrowing authority and finding justice for the poor. THAT kind of talk was treason to the Romans - which is why we find ourselves at the foot of the cross on Good Friday.
It's so easy to throw rocks at the Pharisees. to judge them for their bad behaviour. To join in the chorus of voices throughout the millennia that have criticized and belittled them.
It's much harder to realize that we are they. Hence, I believe, this story's appearance during Lent.
The situation we are facing in the church right now isn't quite the same as it was just over 2000 years ago. Christians (or even Episcopalians) are not a minority religion in an occupied country. We aren't trying to shut up Jesus in order to protect ourselves. Instead, I fear that we are running the risk of trying to quiet controversy in order to protect "the church."
Take the current issue of homosexuality that is causing so much grief and angst in the Anglican Communion. Those who believe that gay and lesbian people should not be ordained, have their relationships blessed, or even be welcomed to the table want gay people to go away. They want to limit who can be in leadership in the church and who may have their relationships blessed. The truth is that there have always been gay and lesbian people in the church, but when gay and lesbian Christians stayed closeted, were ashamed and afraid, and were not honest about who they were as full people of God, the church could ignore them.
It's the same on the other side of the argument. Those of us who believe that gay and lesbian people are full people of God, whose sexual orientation is not a bar to ordination, the blessing or relationships or being fed at the table, secretly wish that folks who speak out against the full inclusion of gay and lesbian people would go away.
We would prefer to quiet the likes of Peter Akinola (the Archbishop of Nigeria, who has led the international fight against inclusion of gay and lesbian people), Martin Mynns (the former rector of Truro Parish in Virginia, who has recently been consecrated bishop in the Nigerian church and now leads the Nigerian "mission" to save the Anglican church in the US) and many Southern Cone Anglicans. Can't these people see that this is an issue of justice and inclusion? Can't they see that Jesus loved all people? We'd prefer a church focused on justice and mission, not caught up in fighting about who does and doesn't belong.
I think that it's safe to say that no matter which side of this (or any) debate we might have in the church, we don't much like controversy. We would far rather just pretend to be nice and get along. And when someone does come along who makes us uncomfortable, who makes us look at things we'd rather not see – people like Gene Robinson OR Peter Akinola, we wish they'd be quiet, go away, and stop causing trouble.
Frankly, it doesn't matter what the source of controversy is. Christians disagree about all sorts of things: the war in Iraq, the death penalty, the best way to fight poverty, the place of women in the church, the role of government, you name it. But whatever the issue, our call as Christians is not to sit quietly and hope to avoid trouble or to try to silence those who disagree with us. Our call is to speak out. Which is not easy to do. It's scary and risky.
Jesus also told the people that he longed to gather all of the people together, like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. He doesn't long to gather the conservatives OR the gay people. He longs to gather everyone, together. And when that happens, then our divisions will cease.
Paul tells us, in his letter to the Philippians, that we are to imitate him – and to stand firm in the Lord. As we continue our journey through Lent, towards Holy Week and the cross, we are to look to Jesus, rather than the Pharisees as our example.
Jesus spoke the truth in love. With a few notable exceptions, Jesus did not rant or rave. He did not condemn people. He did not tell soldiers to stop being soldiers or prostitutes to stop being prostitutes. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He allowed a woman of ill repute to anoint him with oil. He conversed with an woman of ill repute at the well and offered her "living water."
Jesus loved people for who and what they were. And when he did disagree with people, he generally did it with grace and gentleness. Jesus did not shy away from controversy and difficult situations. He did not worry about how others perceived him. He cared about justice and freedom and peace. And he spoke out clearly to get them.
Our call, this Lent - and every day - is to follow Jesus’ example with courage.
After the service, the woman I'd heard was most conservative met me in the receiving line and said, "Thank you for your sermon. I really appreaciated it." My articulate response was, "Really?" And she said, "Yes, You've really opened my eyes to [and here she dropped her voice] gay people. I mean, I've never thought about [and here, she whispered, sort of like those older women who can't say cancer out loud] lesbians like that before." Now, friends, I confess that I wimped out. I didn't ask her in WHAT way. I decided that she'd already taken enough of a step.
So, here it is:
When I first read this morning's gospel, I was touched by the behavior of the Pharisees. It seemed to me that they were doing a nice thing. They were coming to Jesus, telling him that he was in danger, and that he should head out of town before harm came to him. It was a level of care and concern that I had not previously noticed from the Pharisees.
But, the more I thought about the passage, the more suspicious I grew of their good behaviour. After all, the Pharisees -- and there are a couple of notable exceptions -- were not a collection of people who seemed particularly concerned with Jesus or his well-being.... Unless, of course, it impacted them. Then, they were concerned, not for Jesus, but for their own safety and security.
So, what's really going on in this passage? Why does it appear in the lectionary during Lent? What does it say to us on our Lenten journey?
To give the Pharisees a little credit, they were in a tough spot. They were stuck between the temple and the Roman leaders. In this time of social upheaval and foreign invasion, they located the idea of salvation in getting their religious practices right. They were the ones who were concerned with the right practice of the Jewish religion and putting forward a proper appearance. Their strong motivator was to keep the Roman invaders off the backs of the Jewish faithful. So, their behaviour was not entirely selfish. But, in the passage that we hear this morning, it seems that these Pharisees, were not so much about trying to protect Jesus from Herod, as they were trying to protect the faith and the faithful from the volatile Roman invaders. Their motivator was to get this radical troublemaker Jesus the heck out of Dodge!
Remember, that from the beginning of his ministry, Jesus placed the needs and best interests of the poor, the hungry, the oppressed, the victimized, and the imprisoned at the forefront. Particularly in Luke's gospel, he talks repeatedly about overthrowing authority and finding justice for the poor. THAT kind of talk was treason to the Romans - which is why we find ourselves at the foot of the cross on Good Friday.
It's so easy to throw rocks at the Pharisees. to judge them for their bad behaviour. To join in the chorus of voices throughout the millennia that have criticized and belittled them.
It's much harder to realize that we are they. Hence, I believe, this story's appearance during Lent.
The situation we are facing in the church right now isn't quite the same as it was just over 2000 years ago. Christians (or even Episcopalians) are not a minority religion in an occupied country. We aren't trying to shut up Jesus in order to protect ourselves. Instead, I fear that we are running the risk of trying to quiet controversy in order to protect "the church."
Take the current issue of homosexuality that is causing so much grief and angst in the Anglican Communion. Those who believe that gay and lesbian people should not be ordained, have their relationships blessed, or even be welcomed to the table want gay people to go away. They want to limit who can be in leadership in the church and who may have their relationships blessed. The truth is that there have always been gay and lesbian people in the church, but when gay and lesbian Christians stayed closeted, were ashamed and afraid, and were not honest about who they were as full people of God, the church could ignore them.
It's the same on the other side of the argument. Those of us who believe that gay and lesbian people are full people of God, whose sexual orientation is not a bar to ordination, the blessing or relationships or being fed at the table, secretly wish that folks who speak out against the full inclusion of gay and lesbian people would go away.
We would prefer to quiet the likes of Peter Akinola (the Archbishop of Nigeria, who has led the international fight against inclusion of gay and lesbian people), Martin Mynns (the former rector of Truro Parish in Virginia, who has recently been consecrated bishop in the Nigerian church and now leads the Nigerian "mission" to save the Anglican church in the US) and many Southern Cone Anglicans. Can't these people see that this is an issue of justice and inclusion? Can't they see that Jesus loved all people? We'd prefer a church focused on justice and mission, not caught up in fighting about who does and doesn't belong.
I think that it's safe to say that no matter which side of this (or any) debate we might have in the church, we don't much like controversy. We would far rather just pretend to be nice and get along. And when someone does come along who makes us uncomfortable, who makes us look at things we'd rather not see – people like Gene Robinson OR Peter Akinola, we wish they'd be quiet, go away, and stop causing trouble.
Frankly, it doesn't matter what the source of controversy is. Christians disagree about all sorts of things: the war in Iraq, the death penalty, the best way to fight poverty, the place of women in the church, the role of government, you name it. But whatever the issue, our call as Christians is not to sit quietly and hope to avoid trouble or to try to silence those who disagree with us. Our call is to speak out. Which is not easy to do. It's scary and risky.
Jesus also told the people that he longed to gather all of the people together, like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. He doesn't long to gather the conservatives OR the gay people. He longs to gather everyone, together. And when that happens, then our divisions will cease.
Paul tells us, in his letter to the Philippians, that we are to imitate him – and to stand firm in the Lord. As we continue our journey through Lent, towards Holy Week and the cross, we are to look to Jesus, rather than the Pharisees as our example.
Jesus spoke the truth in love. With a few notable exceptions, Jesus did not rant or rave. He did not condemn people. He did not tell soldiers to stop being soldiers or prostitutes to stop being prostitutes. He ate with tax collectors and sinners. He allowed a woman of ill repute to anoint him with oil. He conversed with an woman of ill repute at the well and offered her "living water."
Jesus loved people for who and what they were. And when he did disagree with people, he generally did it with grace and gentleness. Jesus did not shy away from controversy and difficult situations. He did not worry about how others perceived him. He cared about justice and freedom and peace. And he spoke out clearly to get them.
Our call, this Lent - and every day - is to follow Jesus’ example with courage.
05 March 2007
A Literary Meme
This comes from my friend Wayfarer's blog. I suppose that I should have all 100 highlighted after 12 years in bookselling, one undergraduate degree (nearly a minor in English), and two graduate degrees. But alas, not so. I'm also realizing that I've not read much that isn't theology - and am missing most of the new fiction from the last four years. Not, a surprise.
Look at the list of books below.
* (Bold) the ones you’ve read
* Italicize the ones you want to read
* Leave unchanged the ones that you aren’t interested in.
I've added another piece there are a number of personal favourites on this list. They are in red.
* If you are reading this, tag, you’re it!
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austin)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Look at the list of books below.
* (Bold) the ones you’ve read
* Italicize the ones you want to read
* Leave unchanged the ones that you aren’t interested in.
I've added another piece there are a number of personal favourites on this list. They are in red.
* If you are reading this, tag, you’re it!
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austin)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Harry Potter Character Quiz
I don't know if I am more amused by the fact that I am Albus Dumbledore, OR by the fact that I am more like Lord Voldemort than either Ron Weasley or Draco Malfoy. Hmmm. Fascinating. Thanks to Suzanne for sending me to this quiz. :)
You scored as Albus Dumbledore. You are very wise, observant, and analyctical. You have a very "well-organized" mind, which makes you function in a calm and fair manner. Though you get angered easily, its rare of you to ever act out of temper. You are constantly seeing the good in people and are naturally forgiving because of it. You're easy to please and a great person to learn from.
href="'http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id="2852'">Harry Potter Character Combatibility Test created with QuizFarm.com |
01 March 2007
Snow Day!
Even by Yooper standards, this one's getting alot of hype. For the last three days, all anybody could talk about was the weather. Blizzard. High winds. Whiteouts. 10-15" of snow. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
Last night, I received an email from Manuel that said, "Do not leave the house in the am until we've talked." I went to bed feeling like a ten year old. "Please, please, please let it snow," I chanted as I went to bed. And I awoke feeling that same disappointment I felt when I was ten and the much vaunted snow storm had not materialized.
I got up, made coffee and began scouring the online weather resources to sort out what was happening weather-wise and what I should do.
I called Manuel at 8:30; he said, "Good Morning. I think you should stay home today." The storm was late, but still coming. And so, I stayed home. I was back to feeling like that ten year old who has suddenly gotten a day free from school.
5I'm home on a Thursday! (It's my busiest day; I usually leave the house at 8:45 and get home around 11:30pm.) I have NO obligations. Er, no, scratch that. I have a ton of obligations and suddenly all the time I need to do them. Er, scratch that, too. I have time to noodle on the computer and have lunch with Ellie!
I'm home from lunch now, and sitting at my computer. As soon as I finish posting this entry, I'll be ready to produce a worship booklet for our diocesan Spring Conference next weekend. And ten minutes ago, the snow began to fall, in earnest. I don't know how hard the wind is blowing, but the snow is falling more at an angle than straight down.
I'm feeling grateful for a day at home with Sam!Cat, power, food and heat.
Last night, I received an email from Manuel that said, "Do not leave the house in the am until we've talked." I went to bed feeling like a ten year old. "Please, please, please let it snow," I chanted as I went to bed. And I awoke feeling that same disappointment I felt when I was ten and the much vaunted snow storm had not materialized.
I got up, made coffee and began scouring the online weather resources to sort out what was happening weather-wise and what I should do.
I called Manuel at 8:30; he said, "Good Morning. I think you should stay home today." The storm was late, but still coming. And so, I stayed home. I was back to feeling like that ten year old who has suddenly gotten a day free from school.
5I'm home on a Thursday! (It's my busiest day; I usually leave the house at 8:45 and get home around 11:30pm.) I have NO obligations. Er, no, scratch that. I have a ton of obligations and suddenly all the time I need to do them. Er, scratch that, too. I have time to noodle on the computer and have lunch with Ellie!
I'm home from lunch now, and sitting at my computer. As soon as I finish posting this entry, I'll be ready to produce a worship booklet for our diocesan Spring Conference next weekend. And ten minutes ago, the snow began to fall, in earnest. I don't know how hard the wind is blowing, but the snow is falling more at an angle than straight down.
I'm feeling grateful for a day at home with Sam!Cat, power, food and heat.
26 February 2007
Snowy Adventures
It has snowed a bunch in the last 24 hours - but I guess that just gives us a great deal in common with wide swaths of the northern part of the country.
I went to Houghton last night to help, as always, with the Explore service at Trinity. This particular service had a bit of extra preparation added to it, as Jim (our bishop) was making a visit to Trinity and staying for Explore. It was snowing and blowing by the time we were all cleaned up, and so I opted to stay the night. Popcorn and "The Constant Gardener" entertained us. It was a very smart choice; we had to get plowed out this am.
The adventure really began on the drive home. To get to the highway, there's a long way and a shortcut. The shortcut was not yet plowed. I didn't think we'd gotten that much snow, so decided to try the shortcut. I was tooling along on this seriously back road doing just fine. Then, a came to a curve, followed by a steep hill. I slowed for the curve, but then didn't have enough momentum to carry myself up the steep hill. OOPS.
So, I backed down and tried again. The upshot - I got well and truly stuck. I tried rocking, scuffing, and cursing, all to no avail. Amazingly, my cell phone had signal, so I called for roadside assistance. I was trying hard to locate myself to the dude who was clearly somewhere NOT in the UP. Atlantic Mine. Covered Drive. Just went past a road that starts with K - do you see that? "Ma'am all the roads I am looking at have numbers on them. Which number are you on?" Uh. Numbers? Dang. At the moment when I was feeling the most desperate about the whole thing, a plow arrived on the scene.
I popped out of my car and waved them down. The lovely plow dudes from the Houghton County road works, pushed me and prodded me out of the road, then plowed out where I was stuck, "backplowed" where I had gone, and then tooled off. [Backplow - the apparently technical term for driving into a narrow place and then dragging the plow while backing up - it really tamps the snow down.] I started out again, got stuck again, and then, through sheer force of will, got out of the rut, and up the hill. HOORAY.
Life lessons learned: Maggie is an awesome car, but perhaps unplowed back roads are too much for her. Carry kitty litter. I'd just told my friend Chris that Kitty Litter was an essential component to a winterized car. I got a bag on the way home.
I went to Houghton last night to help, as always, with the Explore service at Trinity. This particular service had a bit of extra preparation added to it, as Jim (our bishop) was making a visit to Trinity and staying for Explore. It was snowing and blowing by the time we were all cleaned up, and so I opted to stay the night. Popcorn and "The Constant Gardener" entertained us. It was a very smart choice; we had to get plowed out this am.
The adventure really began on the drive home. To get to the highway, there's a long way and a shortcut. The shortcut was not yet plowed. I didn't think we'd gotten that much snow, so decided to try the shortcut. I was tooling along on this seriously back road doing just fine. Then, a came to a curve, followed by a steep hill. I slowed for the curve, but then didn't have enough momentum to carry myself up the steep hill. OOPS.
So, I backed down and tried again. The upshot - I got well and truly stuck. I tried rocking, scuffing, and cursing, all to no avail. Amazingly, my cell phone had signal, so I called for roadside assistance. I was trying hard to locate myself to the dude who was clearly somewhere NOT in the UP. Atlantic Mine. Covered Drive. Just went past a road that starts with K - do you see that? "Ma'am all the roads I am looking at have numbers on them. Which number are you on?" Uh. Numbers? Dang. At the moment when I was feeling the most desperate about the whole thing, a plow arrived on the scene.
I popped out of my car and waved them down. The lovely plow dudes from the Houghton County road works, pushed me and prodded me out of the road, then plowed out where I was stuck, "backplowed" where I had gone, and then tooled off. [Backplow - the apparently technical term for driving into a narrow place and then dragging the plow while backing up - it really tamps the snow down.] I started out again, got stuck again, and then, through sheer force of will, got out of the rut, and up the hill. HOORAY.
Life lessons learned: Maggie is an awesome car, but perhaps unplowed back roads are too much for her. Carry kitty litter. I'd just told my friend Chris that Kitty Litter was an essential component to a winterized car. I got a bag on the way home.
24 February 2007
Sermon, Lent 1
I'm feeling very angry about the state of the church. I read the draft of the Covenant for the Anglican Communion and the Communique from the Primates' meeting in Tanzania. You can download them both here.
My response was to write the following sermon for Sunday, based primarily in Luke's gospel, Luke 4:1-13, where Jesus is being tempted in the desert by the devil after his baptism.
Lent 1 ~ Ontonagon, MI
In this morning's reading from Luke's gospel, Jesus is driven into the desert where he is tempted by the devil for 40 days.
How does the devil tempt Jesus? Certainly, he does so by dangling before him things that might be useful to a man who A) has been in the desert without food and water for 40 days and B) wants to bring about radical change in the world.
First, the devil suggests that Jesus turn stones into bread, then he offers him power over all the world, and finally he tells Jesus that if he throws himself off the height of the temple, God will protect him.
It's what happens in that last temptation that I want to focus on this morning. When the devil tempts Jesus to throw himself off the top of the temple, he quotes scripture to bolster his argument. Hear that again: The devil quotes scripture to tempt Jesus.
Popular culture has fed us a host of images of the devil. The devil is nearly cartoon-like, sort of a red dude with horns and a pointy tail. He's got a lear, a goatee, and an evil smile. The devil is the stuff of Halloween costumes.
It's harder and much more frightening to realize that the devil might come amongst us as one of us. Maybe the devil comes to church every Sunday. Sits in our midst. Leads our churches. Has the best intentions in the world. Or not. Either way, the devil may be harder to recognize than we think.
When the devil tempted Jesus, he used some verses from Psalm 91 to suggest that if Jesus were to throw himself from the top of the temple, God would protect him because he is the Son of God. However, a full reading of Psalm 91 shows that the devil is using this scripture passage in a VERY limited way. In Psalm 91, God assures those who find their strength in Him that God will offer protection. God promises to keep safe those who rely on God. There's nothing in Psalm 91 that says that if you act recklessly, God will keep you safe. There's nothing to suggest that in all circumstances God will keep you from harm. What gives you safety in Psalm 91 is loving God.
The devil accomplishes his tempting using a shady technique called proof-texting. He pulls a couple of verses of scripture totally out of context and then uses them to try to persuade.
It happens all the time in the church. We pull out a bit of scripture and hold it up above all others. We fail to check one line against another to see if we are getting the fullest or most accurate meaning.
Or, we fail to pay attention to things like genre. Is the text quoted an allegory? Poetry? History? What setting was the text was written for? Is it addressing a particular issue? Does it have broad application?
In the history of The Church, people have used proof-texting to justify all sorts of bad behaviour - slavery, the ill treatment of women, discrimination against gay and lesbian people, odd dietary choices, war in the Middle East, really the list goes on.
In terms of full disclosure, I have to confess to you that, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm feeling a bit fired up about scriptural interpretation this week. I've been affected by the primate's meeting in Tanzania last week and recent events in our church and communion. I'm watching certain segments of the church level accusations, rework Anglican polity, or leave their dioceses all because of what clearly seems to be bad scriptural interpretation. It's breaking my heart.
It's nearly impossible for me to think of Archbishop Peter Akinola, or Bishop Robert Duncan, and not think that we're back in the desert with Jesus and the devil is quoting scripture to tempt us. In this case, the devil is quoting scripture in our churches.
The men (and some women, as well) who would ask the Episcopal church to limit who is fully welcome in the church, to limit who has access to holy orders, and to decide whose relationships can be blessed by the church are doing just what the devil did when he tempted Jesus. They are looking at small parts of scripture in isolation and then using them to tempt us to behave wrongly.
These devils pull a few verses out of Leviticus or from the letters of Paul. They hold these verses up to bolster their tempting. And because it is scripture and because they speak with authority, many many in the church listen to them.
What is required here, is that we be discerning listeners. We must weigh what we hear using a broad variety of tools. A host of options are available to us. There's the Anglican stool where we use four "legs" to examine things - Scripture, Tradition, History and Reason. Responsible scriptural interpretation also requires us to look at the context of a particular passage. For example: Why was the book of Leviticus written? What situations were being addressed by its authors? Do we give equal weight to all parts of the book? How about the passage in Romans? Is there any connection between what Paul was addressing in that book and the situations we find today?
And finally, here's the really bad news. We are as likely to be the devils as those who disagree with us. Honestly, I am as capable of wrongly interpreting as anyone else. All that we can do is try to be faithful.
The Trappist Monk, Thomas Merton, wrote a wonderful prayer that can help to guide us as we look carefully at questions of faith and interpretation. He said:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. AMEN
My response was to write the following sermon for Sunday, based primarily in Luke's gospel, Luke 4:1-13, where Jesus is being tempted in the desert by the devil after his baptism.
Lent 1 ~ Ontonagon, MI
In this morning's reading from Luke's gospel, Jesus is driven into the desert where he is tempted by the devil for 40 days.
How does the devil tempt Jesus? Certainly, he does so by dangling before him things that might be useful to a man who A) has been in the desert without food and water for 40 days and B) wants to bring about radical change in the world.
First, the devil suggests that Jesus turn stones into bread, then he offers him power over all the world, and finally he tells Jesus that if he throws himself off the height of the temple, God will protect him.
It's what happens in that last temptation that I want to focus on this morning. When the devil tempts Jesus to throw himself off the top of the temple, he quotes scripture to bolster his argument. Hear that again: The devil quotes scripture to tempt Jesus.
Popular culture has fed us a host of images of the devil. The devil is nearly cartoon-like, sort of a red dude with horns and a pointy tail. He's got a lear, a goatee, and an evil smile. The devil is the stuff of Halloween costumes.
It's harder and much more frightening to realize that the devil might come amongst us as one of us. Maybe the devil comes to church every Sunday. Sits in our midst. Leads our churches. Has the best intentions in the world. Or not. Either way, the devil may be harder to recognize than we think.
When the devil tempted Jesus, he used some verses from Psalm 91 to suggest that if Jesus were to throw himself from the top of the temple, God would protect him because he is the Son of God. However, a full reading of Psalm 91 shows that the devil is using this scripture passage in a VERY limited way. In Psalm 91, God assures those who find their strength in Him that God will offer protection. God promises to keep safe those who rely on God. There's nothing in Psalm 91 that says that if you act recklessly, God will keep you safe. There's nothing to suggest that in all circumstances God will keep you from harm. What gives you safety in Psalm 91 is loving God.
The devil accomplishes his tempting using a shady technique called proof-texting. He pulls a couple of verses of scripture totally out of context and then uses them to try to persuade.
It happens all the time in the church. We pull out a bit of scripture and hold it up above all others. We fail to check one line against another to see if we are getting the fullest or most accurate meaning.
Or, we fail to pay attention to things like genre. Is the text quoted an allegory? Poetry? History? What setting was the text was written for? Is it addressing a particular issue? Does it have broad application?
In the history of The Church, people have used proof-texting to justify all sorts of bad behaviour - slavery, the ill treatment of women, discrimination against gay and lesbian people, odd dietary choices, war in the Middle East, really the list goes on.
In terms of full disclosure, I have to confess to you that, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm feeling a bit fired up about scriptural interpretation this week. I've been affected by the primate's meeting in Tanzania last week and recent events in our church and communion. I'm watching certain segments of the church level accusations, rework Anglican polity, or leave their dioceses all because of what clearly seems to be bad scriptural interpretation. It's breaking my heart.
It's nearly impossible for me to think of Archbishop Peter Akinola, or Bishop Robert Duncan, and not think that we're back in the desert with Jesus and the devil is quoting scripture to tempt us. In this case, the devil is quoting scripture in our churches.
The men (and some women, as well) who would ask the Episcopal church to limit who is fully welcome in the church, to limit who has access to holy orders, and to decide whose relationships can be blessed by the church are doing just what the devil did when he tempted Jesus. They are looking at small parts of scripture in isolation and then using them to tempt us to behave wrongly.
These devils pull a few verses out of Leviticus or from the letters of Paul. They hold these verses up to bolster their tempting. And because it is scripture and because they speak with authority, many many in the church listen to them.
What is required here, is that we be discerning listeners. We must weigh what we hear using a broad variety of tools. A host of options are available to us. There's the Anglican stool where we use four "legs" to examine things - Scripture, Tradition, History and Reason. Responsible scriptural interpretation also requires us to look at the context of a particular passage. For example: Why was the book of Leviticus written? What situations were being addressed by its authors? Do we give equal weight to all parts of the book? How about the passage in Romans? Is there any connection between what Paul was addressing in that book and the situations we find today?
And finally, here's the really bad news. We are as likely to be the devils as those who disagree with us. Honestly, I am as capable of wrongly interpreting as anyone else. All that we can do is try to be faithful.
The Trappist Monk, Thomas Merton, wrote a wonderful prayer that can help to guide us as we look carefully at questions of faith and interpretation. He said:
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. AMEN
11 February 2007
Sermon for 6 Epiphany
Epiphany 6 11 February 2007 Ironwood, MI
I can’t really beat around the bush here. Today’s readings are HARD. They contain a difficult message for those of us living in the developed world.
It would be easy for us to read Luke’s version of the beatitudes and simply throw our hands up in the air. After all, Luke tells us that the world is divided into those who are blessed and those who are cursed. The blessed are those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and reviled. And the cursed..... Well, the truth is, they look a lot like us.
I think that it’s a safe bet to say that among those of us here in church this morning, the vast majority of us are rich (at least when we look at things on a global scale), well-fed, happy, and well-respected. It doesn’t look so good for us. Woe to us.
Now, I don’t want to let us off the hook too easily. But, I do want to take a step back from the harshness.
First of all, we must look at this passage in the context of Luke’s whole gospel. Remember that Luke is the gospel writer who writes with the perspective of the underdog always at the forefront. Luke’s community may well have been experiencing persecution. Certainly a number of early Christian communities did.
Luke begins to put forth his vision of overturning oppressive systems as early as the first chapter of his gospel. When Mary bursts forth in her famous hymn of praise, the Magnificat, she says, “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
Just a few weeks back, we heard Luke’s story of Jesus’ return to his own home town of Nazareth to inaugurate his ministry. In his local synagogue, he preached: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
It’s also helpful to think about these HARD words in the context of the history of church teaching and doctrine. The church has had a history of interpreting scripture and teaching in terms of what the church calls eschatology. That’s a hefty theological word that simply means the end times.
It has been the traditional practice to read this section of Luke “eschatologically.” In other words, seeing the contents of this passage as referring to the future. If you’re life is hard now, you’ll be rewarded in heaven. And if you’re life is full now, then you better watch out later. Woe to you.
But, in reality, eschatologically reading the texts takes some pressure off of everybody. It serves to keep the poor down - because it’s actually better to be poor in this system. And, it absolves those of us who are rich of any responsibility. We’re sort of hopelessly stuck in the cursed column. There’s no need for social change, because the reward for misery now is eternal blessing.
What would happen if we stopped reading these texts with an eschatological eye, and instead began to read them in the here and now. What if the coming of God’s kingdom were not off in the future, but available to us here in the present? What if the hungry were fed NOW? And the poor had enough NOW? What if those whose lives were filled with mourning could find joy NOW? And those who were persecuted found their persecution ending NOW?
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather live in that world than the one we are presently living in.
Desmond Tutu says that when we read texts about justice eschatologically, we are essentially offering hungry people pie-in-the-sky for later. He reminds us that nobody wants post-mortem pies and that hungry people need to be fed now.
Furthermore, if we truly believe that the God we worship is a God of Love, those of us who are fed, prosperous, happy, and well-respected will not automatically be cursed for an accident of our birth.
However, we must face what the words here say. If we are going to stop reading the blessings eschatologically, we must stop reading the curses eschatologically, as well. We risk landing in the woe column based on what we do with what we have in the here and now.
Here are some ways to think about this.
In the passage we hear this morning from Jeremiah, he also talks about blessings and curses - those who put their trust in mortals and flesh and turn away from the LORD will find their lives barren and arid. A contemporary reading might be that those of us who trust in our wealth, our power, our independence, our self-sufficiency will find our lives barren and arid. Woe to us, if we fail to trust in God.
Or, perhaps the source of our woe will be the ways in which we cling to what we have. Every study I’ve read about wealth and poverty says that we have enough resources in the world at present to eliminate poverty and hunger. The problem is not resources but distribution.
Now, I know that none of us here this morning is wealthy in a Rupert Murdoch or Bill & Melinda Gates kind of way. However, we are all wealthier than we think.
There’s a great website - www.globalrichlist.com - where you can plug in your annual salary and find out where you sit in the ranking of the world’s wealth. My yearly salary puts me in the top 11% of the world’s richest people. Or, thought about another way, 89% of the world lives on less than $20,000 a year. Do I share my prosperity, or do I horde what I have? Woe to us, if we fail to share.
Finally, I think about attitude. I’ve talked with you before about some of my African friends. These are people who live daily with poverty, have experienced hunger and deprivation, loss, and criticism for their faith. And yet, despite this, they never stop talking about how God has blessed them. On the other hand, here in the US, we live in a culture that says that we are all just one purchase away from happiness. We look for bigger and better bargains, bigger and better toys of every kind. And, as I look around me, and encounter people, I see a great deal of unhappiness. For many of us, whatever we have, it’s never enough. We are eternally unsatisfied. Woe to us.
The choice, my friends, is ours. Blessing and Woe are not states cast upon us by God. They are not eschatological promises. They are possibilities, to be sure, over which we, who are currently blessed, have some control.
Hear the words of another great prophet, Moses, in the book of Deuteronomy.
I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying God, and holding fast to God; for that means life to you and length of days. AMEN
I can’t really beat around the bush here. Today’s readings are HARD. They contain a difficult message for those of us living in the developed world.
It would be easy for us to read Luke’s version of the beatitudes and simply throw our hands up in the air. After all, Luke tells us that the world is divided into those who are blessed and those who are cursed. The blessed are those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and reviled. And the cursed..... Well, the truth is, they look a lot like us.
I think that it’s a safe bet to say that among those of us here in church this morning, the vast majority of us are rich (at least when we look at things on a global scale), well-fed, happy, and well-respected. It doesn’t look so good for us. Woe to us.
Now, I don’t want to let us off the hook too easily. But, I do want to take a step back from the harshness.
First of all, we must look at this passage in the context of Luke’s whole gospel. Remember that Luke is the gospel writer who writes with the perspective of the underdog always at the forefront. Luke’s community may well have been experiencing persecution. Certainly a number of early Christian communities did.
Luke begins to put forth his vision of overturning oppressive systems as early as the first chapter of his gospel. When Mary bursts forth in her famous hymn of praise, the Magnificat, she says, “He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.”
Just a few weeks back, we heard Luke’s story of Jesus’ return to his own home town of Nazareth to inaugurate his ministry. In his local synagogue, he preached: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
It’s also helpful to think about these HARD words in the context of the history of church teaching and doctrine. The church has had a history of interpreting scripture and teaching in terms of what the church calls eschatology. That’s a hefty theological word that simply means the end times.
It has been the traditional practice to read this section of Luke “eschatologically.” In other words, seeing the contents of this passage as referring to the future. If you’re life is hard now, you’ll be rewarded in heaven. And if you’re life is full now, then you better watch out later. Woe to you.
But, in reality, eschatologically reading the texts takes some pressure off of everybody. It serves to keep the poor down - because it’s actually better to be poor in this system. And, it absolves those of us who are rich of any responsibility. We’re sort of hopelessly stuck in the cursed column. There’s no need for social change, because the reward for misery now is eternal blessing.
What would happen if we stopped reading these texts with an eschatological eye, and instead began to read them in the here and now. What if the coming of God’s kingdom were not off in the future, but available to us here in the present? What if the hungry were fed NOW? And the poor had enough NOW? What if those whose lives were filled with mourning could find joy NOW? And those who were persecuted found their persecution ending NOW?
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather live in that world than the one we are presently living in.
Desmond Tutu says that when we read texts about justice eschatologically, we are essentially offering hungry people pie-in-the-sky for later. He reminds us that nobody wants post-mortem pies and that hungry people need to be fed now.
Furthermore, if we truly believe that the God we worship is a God of Love, those of us who are fed, prosperous, happy, and well-respected will not automatically be cursed for an accident of our birth.
However, we must face what the words here say. If we are going to stop reading the blessings eschatologically, we must stop reading the curses eschatologically, as well. We risk landing in the woe column based on what we do with what we have in the here and now.
Here are some ways to think about this.
In the passage we hear this morning from Jeremiah, he also talks about blessings and curses - those who put their trust in mortals and flesh and turn away from the LORD will find their lives barren and arid. A contemporary reading might be that those of us who trust in our wealth, our power, our independence, our self-sufficiency will find our lives barren and arid. Woe to us, if we fail to trust in God.
Or, perhaps the source of our woe will be the ways in which we cling to what we have. Every study I’ve read about wealth and poverty says that we have enough resources in the world at present to eliminate poverty and hunger. The problem is not resources but distribution.
Now, I know that none of us here this morning is wealthy in a Rupert Murdoch or Bill & Melinda Gates kind of way. However, we are all wealthier than we think.
There’s a great website - www.globalrichlist.com - where you can plug in your annual salary and find out where you sit in the ranking of the world’s wealth. My yearly salary puts me in the top 11% of the world’s richest people. Or, thought about another way, 89% of the world lives on less than $20,000 a year. Do I share my prosperity, or do I horde what I have? Woe to us, if we fail to share.
Finally, I think about attitude. I’ve talked with you before about some of my African friends. These are people who live daily with poverty, have experienced hunger and deprivation, loss, and criticism for their faith. And yet, despite this, they never stop talking about how God has blessed them. On the other hand, here in the US, we live in a culture that says that we are all just one purchase away from happiness. We look for bigger and better bargains, bigger and better toys of every kind. And, as I look around me, and encounter people, I see a great deal of unhappiness. For many of us, whatever we have, it’s never enough. We are eternally unsatisfied. Woe to us.
The choice, my friends, is ours. Blessing and Woe are not states cast upon us by God. They are not eschatological promises. They are possibilities, to be sure, over which we, who are currently blessed, have some control.
Hear the words of another great prophet, Moses, in the book of Deuteronomy.
I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the LORD your God, obeying God, and holding fast to God; for that means life to you and length of days. AMEN
How Rich are you?
In today's sermon, I talk about global poverty (now, there's a shock!). I referenced the site globalrichlist.com. There, I found that I am in the top 11% of the world's wealthiest people. Here's how you can find out where you rank.
I'm the 669,642,941 richest person on earth! Discover how rich you are! >> |
05 February 2007
Brrr ... Cold and Snowy
Well, we've finally started getting the winter I have to be able to live with if I'm going to stay a while in the UP. For the last couple of days, it's been bitterly cold with a scary windchill factor. It's also been snowing to beat the band. I knew that somehow I'd settled in when I went outside this morning, thought it felt quite warm, and discovered on my car's thermometer that it was 1. That's 1 degree Farenheit, my friends!
I've discovered that when it is this cold the snow does a weird thing on the road. It doesn't settle in for the long haul and it doesn't dissipate. Instead, it hangs about and when cars drive on it, it rises up in clouds that are perfectly capable of totally obscuring one's vision. Translation: one can be driving along the road, meet a car, and be suddenly, totally, and completely blinded. Several times in the last few days, I've had to come to a complete stop in the road and wait for the clouds of snow to settle, because I could see nothing. Nada. Zip. Just another UP driving adventure.
Despite the cold and the clouds o' snow, it's absolutely gorgeous. It looks like a fairy land. The trees appear to be frosted with spun sugar. The falling snow looks like diamond crystals. The snow is light and shovels pretty easily. The beauty makes the discomfort worth it.
I've discovered that when it is this cold the snow does a weird thing on the road. It doesn't settle in for the long haul and it doesn't dissipate. Instead, it hangs about and when cars drive on it, it rises up in clouds that are perfectly capable of totally obscuring one's vision. Translation: one can be driving along the road, meet a car, and be suddenly, totally, and completely blinded. Several times in the last few days, I've had to come to a complete stop in the road and wait for the clouds of snow to settle, because I could see nothing. Nada. Zip. Just another UP driving adventure.
Despite the cold and the clouds o' snow, it's absolutely gorgeous. It looks like a fairy land. The trees appear to be frosted with spun sugar. The falling snow looks like diamond crystals. The snow is light and shovels pretty easily. The beauty makes the discomfort worth it.
23 January 2007
The North Shore?
I'm still adjusting to life in the Midwest. Growing up in Massachusetts, the North Shore meant the part of Massachusetts that was on the ocean, north of Boston. Up here, it means the North Shore of Lake Superior. If you want a sense of the geography click here. I live on the south part, at the base of the peninsula that contains Houghton/Hancock and Copper Harbor. (I'm just above that little cluster of mountains.) If you drove on highways all around Lake Superior, it would be over 1000 miles.
My friends Letha & Scott and I just spent 40 glorious hours on the North Shore (9 miles north of Grand Marais) in a house belonging to friends of theirs. It was glorious. The sun was shining. It was cold (but not as cold as it could have been, given that it is winter and we were in Minnesota). We played tons of games (Scrabble, Five Crowns, cards) and ate great food. We drank way more than our share of red wine. I proved (against some odds) to be the Fire Queen, getting some good fires going in the big stone fireplace. Letha and I took a great hike on the Superior Hiking Trail.
Wildlife abounded. We saw cardinals, blue jays, gulls, nuthatches, chickadees, and eagles. A bald eagle flew in from over the water yesterday and spent about 20 minutes in a tree across the street until it headed off to fish. Today, it (or another?) came back while I was in the shower. Several small red squirrels that chided us whenever we left the house and disturbed their meals at the feeders.
We walked on the beach yesterday and today. The north shore's beach is really rocky. The lake has not frozen this year, and some interesting things were happening on the beach. The rocks froze in clusters. We saw these amazing ledges made from ice, gravel, and larger rocks. As the sun melted the ice today, they were collapsing. As we stood there, we could hear the rocks dropping four to six inches.
There was also a deer carcass on the beach, which had fed a host of carnivores. Our best guess is that it was hit on the road nearby, wandered onto the beach, and died there.
In the house, we had no cell phone coverage, no internet, no television. I feel rested and recharged. Total miles driven for this adventure: 589.
My friends Letha & Scott and I just spent 40 glorious hours on the North Shore (9 miles north of Grand Marais) in a house belonging to friends of theirs. It was glorious. The sun was shining. It was cold (but not as cold as it could have been, given that it is winter and we were in Minnesota). We played tons of games (Scrabble, Five Crowns, cards) and ate great food. We drank way more than our share of red wine. I proved (against some odds) to be the Fire Queen, getting some good fires going in the big stone fireplace. Letha and I took a great hike on the Superior Hiking Trail.
Wildlife abounded. We saw cardinals, blue jays, gulls, nuthatches, chickadees, and eagles. A bald eagle flew in from over the water yesterday and spent about 20 minutes in a tree across the street until it headed off to fish. Today, it (or another?) came back while I was in the shower. Several small red squirrels that chided us whenever we left the house and disturbed their meals at the feeders.
We walked on the beach yesterday and today. The north shore's beach is really rocky. The lake has not frozen this year, and some interesting things were happening on the beach. The rocks froze in clusters. We saw these amazing ledges made from ice, gravel, and larger rocks. As the sun melted the ice today, they were collapsing. As we stood there, we could hear the rocks dropping four to six inches.
There was also a deer carcass on the beach, which had fed a host of carnivores. Our best guess is that it was hit on the road nearby, wandered onto the beach, and died there.
In the house, we had no cell phone coverage, no internet, no television. I feel rested and recharged. Total miles driven for this adventure: 589.
19 January 2007
Two more eagles
Or, maybe it was the same eagle twice.
Manuel and I drove to Ironwood together yesterday. On the ride over, we saw a murder of crows feasting on a dead deer by the side of the road. With them was a bald eagle, also feasting. Because bald eagles have been so much a part of my time here, I was very excited.
Manuel said that he'd seen so many of them that he didn't even get excited anymore. I hope that doesn't happen to me. When I see a bald eagle, my heart quickens. I give a little gasp. And I grin like a fool from ear to ear.
On the way home, we saw the same murder of crows feasting; an eagle (perhaps the same one) was feasting, as well. I don't care if it was the same eagle. My heart beat quickened. I gasped and grinned. And I counted it again.
Running UP eagle count: 7
Manuel and I drove to Ironwood together yesterday. On the ride over, we saw a murder of crows feasting on a dead deer by the side of the road. With them was a bald eagle, also feasting. Because bald eagles have been so much a part of my time here, I was very excited.
Manuel said that he'd seen so many of them that he didn't even get excited anymore. I hope that doesn't happen to me. When I see a bald eagle, my heart quickens. I give a little gasp. And I grin like a fool from ear to ear.
On the way home, we saw the same murder of crows feasting; an eagle (perhaps the same one) was feasting, as well. I don't care if it was the same eagle. My heart beat quickened. I gasped and grinned. And I counted it again.
Running UP eagle count: 7
16 January 2007
Do you think it's about Baptismal Ministry?
Since I moved into this house in July, I've had at least ten plumbing issues. First, it was the sewage pipes which had been entirely destroyed by tree roots. One memorable Sunday night, I realized that the basement floor was covered with (ick) raw sewage. For several days, I was without water, as they sorted out the problem and then replaced the entire sewer pipe system from house to road. I first suspected a problem when the basement floor was covered in water whenever I did laundry. Laundry runoff water was leaking back into the basement from a crack in the foundation. That's so bad.
Since then, they've replaced the heating elements in the hot water heater because the hot water would conk out mid-shower. And fixed a leak in the basement that was actually coming from the bathroom (water leaking from the toilet tank). And done some more rotorooter - when the laundry run off started coming in again. And fixed a leak from the washer itself.
Last night, while I was doing dinner clean up, the garbage disposal finally went south. And both sinks in the kitchen refused to drain. And the disposal began to leak really fast. Picture me with buckets running between tub and under sink. Bailing the sinks frantically. The good news: Ron the plumber came today, put in new disposal (thank God!) and replaced pipes all over the place. The kitchen sink drains. Hooray.
At the end of each plumbing event, I've thought to myself. "OK. The house sat empty for 19 years. You expect some maintainance to have built up. But, we're done now."
So tonight, when I went down to do laundry, I lost it when there was, again, water all over the basement floor. I said many many many bad words. I yelled. I screamed. I cleared everything away from the puddle, and gave thanks that my tent was dry. I played with the valve that seemed to be leaking - only to cause more water to spray out. So, I called Chuck. Again. And he came over. Again. Happily, it was a simple bolt-tightening thing.
After he left, I decided that maybe this is God's sense of humour. What we do here is Baptismal ministry. We all have ministry by virtue of our baptism. Perhaps there's so much water in my basement because God wants to make sure that I get the baptism metaphor. She does have a sense of humor.
Since then, they've replaced the heating elements in the hot water heater because the hot water would conk out mid-shower. And fixed a leak in the basement that was actually coming from the bathroom (water leaking from the toilet tank). And done some more rotorooter - when the laundry run off started coming in again. And fixed a leak from the washer itself.
Last night, while I was doing dinner clean up, the garbage disposal finally went south. And both sinks in the kitchen refused to drain. And the disposal began to leak really fast. Picture me with buckets running between tub and under sink. Bailing the sinks frantically. The good news: Ron the plumber came today, put in new disposal (thank God!) and replaced pipes all over the place. The kitchen sink drains. Hooray.
At the end of each plumbing event, I've thought to myself. "OK. The house sat empty for 19 years. You expect some maintainance to have built up. But, we're done now."
So tonight, when I went down to do laundry, I lost it when there was, again, water all over the basement floor. I said many many many bad words. I yelled. I screamed. I cleared everything away from the puddle, and gave thanks that my tent was dry. I played with the valve that seemed to be leaking - only to cause more water to spray out. So, I called Chuck. Again. And he came over. Again. Happily, it was a simple bolt-tightening thing.
After he left, I decided that maybe this is God's sense of humour. What we do here is Baptismal ministry. We all have ministry by virtue of our baptism. Perhaps there's so much water in my basement because God wants to make sure that I get the baptism metaphor. She does have a sense of humor.
13 January 2007
Virginia, Florida, Virginia, Home
This has been a week on the road, but in a more far-flung way than usual. Last Saturday, I departed Ontonagon before sunrise (which was really about 7:50am, but we don't want to talk about that, do we?). Because I live in the UP and flights in and out are limited, I did a little creative traveling. My ultimate destination was DelRay Beach, Florida. The training I was attending ran from early Monday am until 3pm on Weds. We were asked to book flights that left after 5 on Weds, so that we did not leave the training early. Turns out, you can't leave DelRay Beach after 5 and get home to the UP on the same day. So, I got creative and booked one round trip from Marquette to DCA (National Airport) and then one from DCA to Palm Beach.
I spent Saturday in Washington/Northern Virginia, visiting with friends and enjoying the Fawcett's hospitality; Sunday, I worshipped at St. Anne's and generally reveled in being back with so many folks that I love. Dinner with Kate before flying out completed the day.
After a two hour delay on Sunday night, I flew to Florida where I was trained to be an anti-racism trainer for the Episcopal Church. The weather was warm and sunny, but the training was long and tiring, so I didn't get to enjoy Florida nearly as much as I might have if I had been there for something less taxing. I still managed a long brisk walk on Monday night and an evening sitting outside and visiting with other trainees on Tuesday. This was not, however, a day at the beach!
I must say, there's nothing like several days of listening to people talk about the kinds of cruelty they have experienced because of race (and class, and gender, and sexual orientation) to make me want to cry. Or get violent. Or (at least on good days) actively work to change the world.
I returned to VA on Weds night, had more time with friends, flying out at noon on Friday. Thursday morning, Kate and I took a walk in the sun, watching birds and admiring creation at Huntley Meadows. The beauty of that place and the gift of our conversation did much to recharge my soul.
I survived an amazing airport adventure in Minneapolis. [We won't even talk about the fact that I thought I was going to Detroit, since nearly every flight from DCA to MQT goes through Detroit, and it was only when I got to the airport and the Northwest agent said, "Gardner, going to Minneapolis," when she handed me my luggage tag that I learned otherwise!] I landed in Minneapolis at 1:45CT for a 3:35CT flight to MQT. The monitor said that the flight was delayed until 4:30. I got some sushi, poked in a bookstore, fought with the airport wifi, and finally, about 2:55, I wandered off to the gate. The plane was now listing at 5:05. I called the friend who agreed to meet me at the airport, and alerted her to the great lateness of the flight. Settled at my gate, fought with the wifi somemore, and then heard someone talking about a flight that was not going to Marquette. So, I wandered off, at 3:28 to check the status of my flight and see if it had moved gates. The flight had moved to a new gate, and reverted to being on time. I raced back, scooped up my stuff, sprinted to the new gate, and discovered that the plane was actually boarding. Great aerobic exercise. I bought the older Barak Obama book to read in the airport, since my first book would not stand the test of the extra hours, and then I slept most of the way from MSP to MQT. Sigh.
I'm in MQT, at the apartment, but it's closer to home then I've been in a week, and it feels great.
I spent Saturday in Washington/Northern Virginia, visiting with friends and enjoying the Fawcett's hospitality; Sunday, I worshipped at St. Anne's and generally reveled in being back with so many folks that I love. Dinner with Kate before flying out completed the day.
After a two hour delay on Sunday night, I flew to Florida where I was trained to be an anti-racism trainer for the Episcopal Church. The weather was warm and sunny, but the training was long and tiring, so I didn't get to enjoy Florida nearly as much as I might have if I had been there for something less taxing. I still managed a long brisk walk on Monday night and an evening sitting outside and visiting with other trainees on Tuesday. This was not, however, a day at the beach!
I must say, there's nothing like several days of listening to people talk about the kinds of cruelty they have experienced because of race (and class, and gender, and sexual orientation) to make me want to cry. Or get violent. Or (at least on good days) actively work to change the world.
I returned to VA on Weds night, had more time with friends, flying out at noon on Friday. Thursday morning, Kate and I took a walk in the sun, watching birds and admiring creation at Huntley Meadows. The beauty of that place and the gift of our conversation did much to recharge my soul.
I survived an amazing airport adventure in Minneapolis. [We won't even talk about the fact that I thought I was going to Detroit, since nearly every flight from DCA to MQT goes through Detroit, and it was only when I got to the airport and the Northwest agent said, "Gardner, going to Minneapolis," when she handed me my luggage tag that I learned otherwise!] I landed in Minneapolis at 1:45CT for a 3:35CT flight to MQT. The monitor said that the flight was delayed until 4:30. I got some sushi, poked in a bookstore, fought with the airport wifi, and finally, about 2:55, I wandered off to the gate. The plane was now listing at 5:05. I called the friend who agreed to meet me at the airport, and alerted her to the great lateness of the flight. Settled at my gate, fought with the wifi somemore, and then heard someone talking about a flight that was not going to Marquette. So, I wandered off, at 3:28 to check the status of my flight and see if it had moved gates. The flight had moved to a new gate, and reverted to being on time. I raced back, scooped up my stuff, sprinted to the new gate, and discovered that the plane was actually boarding. Great aerobic exercise. I bought the older Barak Obama book to read in the airport, since my first book would not stand the test of the extra hours, and then I slept most of the way from MSP to MQT. Sigh.
I'm in MQT, at the apartment, but it's closer to home then I've been in a week, and it feels great.
What kind of reader are you?
This quiz comes from my friend Lisa the Librarian. Several of you may remember Lisa, from when she was Lisa the Library School Student - and crashed on my dorm floor in Alexandria periodically during my first year. Those of you who know me well won't be surprised by the quiz results. Where do you fall?
| What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Dedicated Reader You are always trying to find the time to get back to your book. You are convinced that the world would be a much better place if only everyone read more. | |
| Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm | |
| Literate Good Citizen | |
| Book Snob | |
| Fad Reader | |
| Non-Reader | |
| What Kind of Reader Are You? Create Your Own Quiz | |
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