Public Offerings

An Excuse to Make No Conclusions

2011-07-04T08:27:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of thoughts about America today. wanna hear?

From American girls, to Asian girls in America, to black females and males too. Black, from Jamaica, but also from Zimbabwe and Nigeria. American music, well what is that? It’s hip hop today. It's Paul Mccartney. It was Ella Fitzgerald and Judy Garland, or wait was that movies? Yes. It was. America is sailing, and it is speed boats, it’s kayaking here, wakeboarding here and elsewhere. My America is different from yours. So what’s the content of this day? It was founded on something, and today it’s quite different. Some people think there’s a big problem with how holiday’s have evolved in our country. But maybe you like the excuses to get tipsy and make small talk.

Independence is different for this person and that person, and maybe more alike for the two hanging out in this city, or that rural community. I can’t say I have any sort of pure perspective on America’s foundation of independence. I don’t know that it’s helpful to expect that.

Free to me, is wearing my skin without fear. Holding my head up without looking behind me to see another’s fist of anger. Free to me is the Fourth of July. And, it’s something new. It’s a beer with my friends just to have something in common. Free is watching american TV when I’m down and feeling out of luck. Free to me, sometimes is cleaning my car so that I can feel good in it. Free to me, is forgetting, and dreaming, imagining. Free to me, is today apart from tomorrow and yesterday. It’s for you and for me and for him and her and them. Free is group and individual. It’s categorized and uncategorizable. You’re free. A free people. A free being. Go be set free. Further free. Cuz furthermore is never ending.

Nouwen Again

2011-06-06T15:12:00.000-07:00

page 14 of The Return of the Prodigal Son

my rendition:

The days since moving to Seattle have not been easy. There has been much inner struggle, and there has been mental, emotional, and spiritual pain. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had about it the quality of having arrived. However, the move from Maryland to Seattle proved to be but one little step from bystander to participant, from desiring to living desire, from teacher about love to being loved as the beloved. I really did not have an inkling of how difficult the journey would be. I did not realize how deeply rooted my resistance was and how agonizing it would be to come to my senses, fall on my knees, and let my tears flow freely. I did not realize how hard it would be to become truly part of the great even that was the return of the prodigal daughter.

Each little step toward the center seemed like an impossible demand, a demand requiring me to let go one more time from wanting to be in control, to give up one more time the desire to predict life, to die one more time to the fear of not knowing where it all will lead, and to surrender one more time to a love that knows no commandment to love that knows no limits. And still, I knew that I would never be able to live the great commandment to love without allowing myself to be loved without conditions or prerequisites. The journey from teaching and trying to live out love, to allowing myself to be loved proved much longer than I realized.

Retelling a Story

2011-06-02T07:02:00.000-07:00

I just began a book called The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen. This is the beginning of his prologue and I've taken the opportunity to rewrite it for me because of how connected I feel to it.

"When I first saw the Prodigal Son, I had just finished an exhausting six-week lecturing trip through the United States, calling Christian communities to do anything they possibly could to prevent violence and war in Central America. I was dead tired, so much so that I could barely walk. I was anxious, lonely, restless, and very needy. During the trip I had felt like a strong fighter for justice and peace, able to face the dark world without fear. But after it was all over I felt like a vulnerable little child who wanted to crawl onto its mother's lap and cry. As soon as the cheering or cursing crowds were gone, I experienced a devastating loneliness and could easily have surrendered myself to the seductive voices that promised emotional and physical rest.

It was in this condition that I first encountered Rembrandt's Prodigal Son on the door of Simone's [a friend's] office. My heart leapt when I saw it. After my long self-exposing journey, the tender embrace of father and son expressed everything I desired at that moment. I was, indeed, the son exhausted from long travels; I wanted to be embraced; I was looking for a home where I could feel safe. The son-come-home was all I was and all that I wanted to be. For so long I had been going from place to place: confronting, beseeching, admonishing, and consoling. Now I desired only to rest safely in a place where I could feel a sense of belonging, a place where I could feel at home."

When I first saw the "prodigal son" (hope), I had just finished an exhausting six-week personal and relational challenge between the state of Washington and of Maryland, calling close relatives and a few friends to do anything possible to love and to be loved, to fight for hope and a better world, even if just for their own hearts. I was dead tired, so much so that I could barely walk. I was anxious, lonely, restless, and very needy. During the journey I had felt like a strong fighter for justice and peace, able to face the dark world without fear. But after it was all over I felt like a vulnerable child who wanted to crawl into her mother's lap and cry...

It was in this condition that I first encountered "the prodigal son" (hope again) on the doors of heaven and of life. My heart leapt when I saw it. After my long self-exposing journey, the tender embrace of father and son expressed everything I desired at that moment. I was, indeed, the son exhausted from long travels; I wanted to be embraced; I was looking for a home where I could feel safe. The son-come-home was all I was and all that I wanted to be. For so long I had been going from place to place: confronting, beseeching, admonishing, and consoling. Now I desired only to rest safely in a place where I could feel a sense of belonging, a place where I could feel at home.

And this is where it doesn't exactly line up with Nouwen's version! :

I took the semester off from classes and hadn't been around for a couple months but with great longing to be a part of something still, I walked into the graduate school building asking that such a thing could be true. I made jokes and lived freely with friends for the first few hours of the day. With a loved one, at CJ's Eatery, I literally had my soul fed. Back in the school library I listened to the spirit through that friend and another. I remembered the loving relationship I have with one of my roommates, and I stayed happy for an extended few hours. I told stories and listened to stories. I told lessons and listened to lessons. I heard love. I heard kindness. I heard gifting and holiness. Not to mention, I spent over an hour at Golden Gardens relaxedly enjoying my friend, Terry.

A story of belonging has begun and absent not of pain and anxiety, I fall forward to be caught in grace and in the hands of friends. Hallelujah. Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

Fearing the Bible

2011-05-17T06:03:00.000-07:00

Back in a place where the Bible feels complicated and dare I say 'oppressive'? But I'm in this line of thinking that God is love.

Not when I read Paul, not when I hear the way some people use the text.

And, I am confident that something is seriously lacking in the way that literalists read and use the Bible. We are blinded by so many factors and the biggest for this day is a culture defined by moral absolutes and false optimism. We're moving on, and for good reason. Science is no longer the answer (though, yes it is still very helpful). There's a rise in spiritualism, a decline in idealism, and if you haven't figured this out in your individual life already, things are not always as they seem. Life isn't working itself out and man is not the center of the universe.

So what do I do with the text then? Throw it out?

On some days, maybe it is just better to stay away.

Sometimes I think it's possible to honor the text, to honor how it was written and the cultural influences of the time. Sometimes I think we cheapen the text to fit our own desires for it. And, sometimes our best stab at it is to admit that it's difficult and we don't know what to do with it.

I know some really great exegetes of the text, people who listen, discern, test. I am very grateful for them. For now I'll join them, learn from them, and hopefully become open to the work of the spirit in the holy scriptures.

My Corporate Sadness

2011-04-01T11:20:00.000-07:00

I'm a member of a bank that's mostly East coast based. They're in partnership with a West coast bank though, so I can deposit money here when I need to... Except for last Friday when I was running low in my account and couldn't get the damn ATM to work. Once the money was finally deposited, I had already been charged an overdraft fee. Ok, the inevitable response to this is that I shouldn't ever be that low in my account. sure.... but to the point of my story:

I called my E. coast bank. They said, to refund you the 35 dollars we'll have to investigate the ATM malfunction, in the meantime, you should go in and talk to the person in the bank who you finally deposited with. So, I went in to the W. coast bank. The man I spoke with said, I can't do anything.;I don't have the power to refund you. I said, is there any way you can be in touch with [your partner bank] and see what you can do? Looking at the screen, he picks up his phone and dials the number for the bank I opened my account with. If I knew how exactly, I'd put that line in quotations marks. After a couple seconds, he says "hmm, they changed their number".

Huh? Really?

He tells me to call the 800 number on the back of my check card. Suspicion is strong. He asks me if I want to change my account to the W. coast bank so that we won't have these problems any more. I say, let me think about it, for now I'll just deposit these other two checks I have. He comes back with a receipt and puts his hand out to shake mine. I walk out of the bank and find I have a missed called from a semi-familiar Seattle phone number.

It was him. I recognized it because he had called me a couple weeks ago to have me change to the west coast bank, after I had come in for the deposit earlier that week. Did he call my number off of the computer screen when he was looking at my account, and then tell me that the bank's number was out of order?

I should perhaps be a little more angry about this than I am. The mess of costumer service through these two banks. The dishonesty I was experiencing and the lack of interest in my convenience. I'm not mad. I can handle it all.

I am kind of sad though. Not because I didn't get my 35 dollars back. Who cares? But because the guy who I spoke with couldn't tell the truth. He defaulted to a lie and he hid. And he's a really cute and friendly guy. The picture of his wife and son on his desk made me wonder what their home life is like. Does he go home and maintain the same put together image? Or, does he go home and sit on the side of his bed or couch and sink into the place where honesty is ok? I don't think this mentality is particular to the corporate sphere. I don't think it's particular to men in suits... I think its a pandemic. And for that, I'm sad. People all over the place disguising their faults and flaws and appeasing the status quo superboss. Dammit. Dammit.

Exploring Sexuality

2011-03-23T14:50:00.001-07:00

So it is again that Oprah’s show stimulates conversation for me and a blog...

And speaking of stimulation, this behind the scenes episode was about two 30 year old virgins. After the producers of the Oprah Winfrey Show organized for them to see sex therapists and explore their fears and desire around sexuality, Oprah couldn’t recall having been prompted about the topic and contended that the producers “made it seem like there was something wrong with being a thirty year old virgin”. She didn’t want to do the show.

Is there a problem with being a thirty year old virgin?

My intent is not to establish a right or wrong here and I want especially to be careful around the label virgin, knowing that the stigma can elicit all sorts of emotions- anger, shame, etc. But, I would like to stir the pot about human sexuality especially in regards to religious choice and expression. In many households across america it is considered immoral to have sex before marriage. I wonder, amidst the many stipulations that christian people have placed on themselves, if this is truly inhibiting the natural and healthy discovery of individuals’ sexuality, physicality, relationality etc...

Can’t say that I’m an expert in this field by any means, but I have a few clues about the impact of a healthy sex life on the more general health of the individual. I had a psychology professor in undergrad who encouraged the students to know their bodies. I think this was especially important to an audience of considerably suppressed sexual persons. I have also read a bit recently about contentment in life being influenced by the frequency of sexual engagement. I think its safe to suggest that people who are comfortable in their sexuality, comfortable with their bodies, will generally be more confident and happy. The rules and pressures around an individual’s sexuality can be considerably harmful.

On the other hand, maybe Oprah has a point. There needs to be some sort of responsibility to managing sexuality in order that a person knows their bounds and where they might harm others or themselves. Coming to mind is a heterosexual relationship where the women feels pressure to explore her sexuality with her partner. This could lead to early emotional commitment or a performance based love. This is just one example to get the consideration rolling. Thoughts/responses welcome!

These Days

2011-03-16T18:31:00.000-07:00

We go around whoring ourselves. And I can’t pretend to be just fine.

I pray God sing me this song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7aro4uBPBC4

“You don’t have to turn on the red light. You don’t have to wear that dress tonight. You don’t have to sell your body to the night.”

2011-03-12T18:47:00.000-08:00

"My gift is my song and this one's for you".

The Emancipation of My Writing

2011-03-12T10:07:00.001-08:00

I was a young girl. a jung girl. a freud girl. A young girl and not because of me, a jung girl, and one day a freud girl. No, there was no “one day”, it was all without time’s label. It was a day and a year and a moving flowing lifehood. The hymen of youngness never broken or popped, just bleeding. on. She spoke sad songs, modernity. She spoke “hope”, sure. The flag goes up there. right there. The surrender of the modern to the postmodern. Holding out though, holding on to ‘I set the path so fuck you, you’re stuck with me’. And so it is that she is part of me is part of tomorrow is part of time(?), is part of life. Yes, life and death and everything else. From afar the two, the three, the everything else is one with the life and the death and the life and the death are the everything. I see a circle. So did Confucius. And, my sister. But then my sister became modern. No, there was never a ‘became’, it was with her, in her, cradling her, and then she heard religions call and beckoned. I might cry now at that loss.

So, forth going. So, onward, forward or just just, just.

2010-09-10T09:33:00.001-07:00

I don't know what I'll title this blog yet, but I know that I'm moved to write it. I am refreshed. I am excited, to hear an educated American man, establish against the injustices of American ignorance, that we are NOT at war with Islam. America is at war with terrorism, with al qaeda, but not with a religion, not with a muslim people.

Mid Way to West Coast

2010-08-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

Getting my bearings in Denver, Colorado. With Julia and then without.

First visit, first look.

We have arrived at a family friend's unoccupied home near U Denver. Map a vegetarian restaurant for dinner. "Buffalo wings"- Seitan with homemade vegan ranch dressing. H-yes.

Bar suggestion from Kelly Belly B- sports bar, 2 for 1 22oz. One for Julia, one for me. Denver, Broncos on every screen, (Ravens win 23-3 against Redskins in the meantime!)

Next move- Dougherty's! Small, comfy, happenin' bar. Julia gets wasty face.

Ok, not really.

Early the next morning on search for an open coffee shop. nothing. We're on East Coast time, Denver isn't.

Next move- wildlife refuge. Short hike, spotting of some prairie dogs! Julia needs to be at the airport soon.

Stacey finds a coffee shop. Getting her bearings. Not The End.

(missing baby Carter- born to Allison and JW 3:24am Aug. 18)

Dear Mr. Street Corner Evangelist

2010-05-19T21:32:00.001-07:00

Dear Mr. Street Corner Evangelist,

I know you really want to save my soul from hell's fire... and that's nice of you, I guess...

But, I'm gonna just go ahead and say it. I'm not interested.

You have probably spent many years believing and affirming the theology you have- a life of labor you have led. You believe that the deepest need of humanity, is to hear the gospel so that we might be saved.

Any chance you would be interested in putting some of this aside while we talk about other things? Instead of trying to convince and convert me, what if we talk about what kind of affect it's had on you to live with this theology. Has it been hard? Do you constantly feel unheard? What does your wife think? And your kids?

How many times have you had an argument with another christian about your beliefs? Do you feel like you have something/anything in common with people who don't hold to your theology?

It's hard for a lot of us to sympathize with your actions and your constant need to be preaching.

If you're ever interested in talking about these kinds of things, I'd be willing to listen.

Sincerely,

Stacey

P.S. I might not do a very good job at listening, but I really will try. I'll also do my best to rid myself of the desires to convert you to my way of thinking.

After Thoughts

2010-05-18T11:09:00.001-07:00

On Sunday I had the privilege of facilitating a discussion about Church DUHN DUHN DUUUHN with a group of high school students.

We thought about what the Early Church (1st and 2nd century) might have been like. For what reasons did they gather? What did they do at their gatherings? What was going on in their society at the time?

The kids in the group mentioned the Roman Empire, and the killing and imprisoning of Christians for their threat to the Emperor's divine status. They talked about prayer, song, and the readings of letters circulating at the time. Someone mentioned that the early christians were probably partaking of bread and wine as they represented Jesus body and blood broken and poured out.

We waded through some of the assumptions, realizations and discoveries, and tried to consider what it would have been like to live in that era. We then attempted to read, in that state of mind, a letter written by the well known apostle Paul, to the church in Ephesus, i.e. the "assembly" of Christians there.

What came out of this, was a new appreciation for the letter, at least for me. Instead of seeing it in terms of our modern conventional and convoluted christianity, I saw it from the perspective of a reader, or listener since at the time I may not have known how to read, in a chaotic time of loss and suffering. I got the sense that the author of the letter was writing because he truly cared for me and the people with me in that place.

Today, I was singing to myself, the song I Wanna Be a Billionaire by Travis McCoy, and without being totally conscious of it I started wondering what this whole perspective might say about modern life in another area: materialism.

The people of the early centuries obviously didn't have TVs, lap tops, Droids, iPhones, iPods fashion, expensive jewelry (at least not like many wealthy people have now), etc.

The thing from that time, that I think parallels our materialism now, is power. Power and status were demanded, stolen, battled over. Some young people born into high office families were probably completely unaware and unable to realize the weight of that, as some of us don't realize how much we have in clothing, money, and things of the sort, because we have been born into it.

So, perhaps the idea to consider now, is what was it like to engage and be immersed in a culture where power was the people's goal and idol? What would it be like to be powerless, perhaps slave, or prisoner? And then, how is the power struggle now, similar to how it was in the past?

2010-05-10T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to chronicle the events of the road trip Marcus, Ben, Scott, (Liz, Georgia), and I took last summer.

This is a redwood tree/forest in Northern California!

I am. Perfect is not.

2010-05-03T11:42:00.001-07:00

I've hated perfectionism for a long time... probably because it has felt so often as if it, yes perfection, owns me. But today, and yesterday and the day before, and a few times otherwise, I heard, that perfect... is not.

You know how in the Bible God's recorded as having said, I AM...

I never really got that, but, when there's not such a thing as supreme good, and ultimate foundation, and absolute without objection and consideration... it makes sense to say, instead of, I exist, to say, I am.

In other words, when I say I exist, I have to prove that. When I say I am, I just am damnit. I just am. I am.

I know, this makes little logical sense.

Perfect is not. "Perfect" is a created thing, an idea that we (humans) have defined and designed. Right? Like, not only is there no such thing as perfect, but perfect doesn't exist. So, let's say I'm René Descartes, I hear this word perfect, and I decide I'm going to meditate it out. Perfect, what is perfect? where does it come from? what if it is not?

I might start with trying to decipher the source from which the idea of perfect came. I probably heard it first used in conversation. Someone used it to describe a meal, or a dress. In that, it was pretty innocent.

But then, I probably heard it in reference to a relationship, like, they seem perfect, but they're not. Or, the relationship of time to event, like the timing of our encounter was perfect.

Where did this concept become an unsubstantial idea for me then?

When someone said, God is perfect, period. I think that's where.

Anyway, you get it, there's no such thing as perfect, and there's no such thing as becoming perfect. Even if Paul said we were supposed to become perfect like God is perfect. Nope, that doesn't mean there's such a thing. He may have meant that we would be perfect in some aspect, like a meal is perfect.

But then, a meal can be really good, but what the hell is a perfect meal? Like, would it be a steak meal? or pork? Or, would it be vegetarian?

The answer, is no. It wouldn't.

So, maybe Paul meant, be perfect today, like be good, be steak, or pork, or veggie. Be perfect, like, if you're a steak meal, Stacey, be a reallllly damn good one. Like, pair well with the wine, and add a good, tasty, enriching little bit of salt to that asparagus on the side.

If you're an architect, be a really good one, or if you're a friend, be a really good one, if you're a fashion critic, be damn good.

And have a good day.

Whoop, There it is

2010-03-22T20:07:00.000-07:00

Man oh man, being twenty something- It's confusing and unsettling, yet fun, a little dreamy, and new.

Sometimes when we talk about birthdays, those of us who are here, in our twenties, it goes something like- Oh no! 24, that sounds old. Well, what about 25, oh that's like you're an actual adult! No, no, that's 28, you know you're old when you're 28. Nobody reeeaallly knows.

The government has tried to label the age for a while now, huh? As if, at 16 and a few months (or whatever it is) you're READY to drive. Or, when you're 21 you're ready to drink... etc. I don't think we're ready for much, honestly. Unless 'ready' means, you're gonna struggle.

I've come upon this concluding, kind of, absolutist problem, so many times... and no wonder being young/20ish is hard. We're not only going through forming years as individuals, we're going through forming years as a society and as a world. The Western realm is more than ever, intertwined with the Eastern. Knowledge is broader than the universe. What is the internet anyway? The classic battle of faith vs reason, has turned into a million conversations about what I feel and you feel and how it probably doesn't matter because neither of us is right. History has decided that it's time for some idealogical revamping, and we're stuck in the middle of both ferocious situations, cataclysmic situations.

But some things remain, like those damn big business owners and old money, and the convolution of democratic government (see health care reform debates/forums). Answerless, helpless?, confusing, tricky...

I guess without all these difficulties, there would be nothing for anyone, from the garbage man , to the president, to do!

So that's why we get jobs, and volunteer, and follow our passions, and live a life of searching, seeking, attaining.

"Whoop, there it is."

Clean

2010-02-09T22:57:00.000-08:00

You have a soul, and it’s clean.

It’s clean. It’s clean.

You have a heart and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It’s great. It’s fine.

Speak now o’ soul, speak out.

What do you want? Speak out.

Relating to a Windsheild

2009-07-27T10:55:00.000-07:00

Strolling along a path through the woods today, I encountered multiple cloisters of gnats. I noticed that my dog had also observed this nuisance when her ears perked and strut turned to an investigative tip toe. Then, 'uh uhh, no you di' int' and, she jolted her head and body to the left.

Who knew that dogs avoid gnat clusters too?

Anyway, this made me think about the unfortunate reprimand that Obama received from PETA when he swatted a fly during a televised interview. If a fly is "unsympathetic", get a fly catching contraption so that you can release it into the wild, they suggest.

Unfortunately, I was already in the "wild".
Oh, and I forgot to bring my contraption with me.

Morals of the story: don't be a fundamentalist, and wear your safety goggles at all times.

Copy and pasted from http://www.donaldmillerwords.com/resources.php

2009-07-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Paradigm Shifts we encountered doing Christian ministry in a pagan environment...

1. Other People Exist: Simply coming to the understanding that the world does not revolve around “me” but that everybody is having an experience, created by God, loved by God, and that we needed to repent of showing partiality...

2. Nobody will listen to you unless they know you like them: We began to understand that people, subconsciously, merit a religious or philosophical idea not on logical conclusions, but on whether or not the idea creates a “good person”...the definition of a good person being whether or not a person is kind to them, tolerant and understanding, able to listen without arguing and so on.

3. Nobody will listen to God unless they know God loves them: We came to believe there was usually a hidden pain behind hostility, that many people have been hurt by the church, or people or perspectives they believed to represent God. Many times its as simple as an interview they saw on CNN, but an apology and kindness went a long way in helping people understand God was loving.

4. Other people have morality and values: We came to understand that Christians do not own morality, that everybody lives by a moral code, not always informed by an ancient text, and yet it is there. Calling people or even thinking of them as immoral was, then, inappropriate. In fact, we often found that people who did not know Christ lived a morality close to his heart in many areas we had ignored, ie; community, tolerance, social justice, fairness and equality, freedom, beauty and so on and so on.

5. Find common ground: Often the morality of others overlapped Christian morality, and we came to understand that in these cases, we would focus on the overlapping issues. We came to see this as kindness, just as though we were on a date or making friends, we did not focus on what we didn’t have in common, but rather on mutual feelings about life. We would not say or do anything to combat people unless they knew we loved them, and this takes a great deal of time.

6. Define terms in their language: We were careful about Christian sayings and phrases that might be offensive: Crusade, sin, immorality....we came to understand that concepts were more sacred than terms...

7. Telling somebody about the gospel is about them, not us: We were careful not to try to “build our organization” and respected peoples freedom and space. Sharing the gospel became an exercise in friendship, rather than an attempt to grow a machine. Often, people feel used if they feel they are being recruited. The gospel, we learned, is really about them, their feelings about God and truth, about sin, about life.

8. Don’t let spreading the gospel feel any different than telling somebody about a love in your life, about your children or a great memory: We realized that in telling somebody about Jesus, we were telling them about somebody we have come to love and need, and about something that had happened to us, an encounter. This keeps us from sounding preachy, and allows us to share part of ourselves in a friendship.

9. Include lost People in Your Community: Our organization was not exclusive. We invited non-believers into the community if they wanted to be invited. We were careful not to not be ourselves with them, but they were certainly invited and enjoyed being a part of the group. We explained terms that we used, what we believed, but other than that, continued as normal.

10. Apologize for what you represent: We discovered that many people have been offended or hurt by what they perceive Christianity to be. We allowed ourselves to stand in the place of “Christianity” and apologize whenever necessary.

11. Be authentic: We discovered the need to be as honest about our lives as possible. We did not feel the need to sale Jesus, as much as share what He has done in our broken lives. We had no problem sharing our doubts and fears about faith, along with our commitment and appreciation for what God had done.

12. Pray for the Salvation of others: We discovered the need to pray for others. This would insure God was working in peoples lives, as we asked Him to. We discovered the work of evangelism is something God lets us watch, but very little of it is what we manipulate. We repented of not believing evangelism was a spiritual exchange between a lost person and God, rather than believing it was a series of ideas we were supposed to convince others of.

13. Ask people if they would like to know Christ: We decided to initiate, whenever the relationship called for it. We were not afraid to ask people if they would like to know God.

Road Trip

2009-07-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

I've seen the country's goodness

And it looked a little like this:

the "smoke" in the smoky mountains

[remove your hats please] a lick of Tennessee Whiskey, in a dry county. Tour of the Jack Daniel distillery

the humor and kindness of a delightful bartender in N'awlins. Ugly Dog Saloon

the people (at the diner) who tried their best to help us find a camp site or hostel. Austin, TX

being offered directional help from strangers in new cities.

miles of width and a great depth of archeological finds cutting through Arizona. Grand Canyon

the hearts of our beloved hosts in Portland, OR.

finally having a sleeping bag after what seemed like long cold camping nights. Thank you Pat! Friend in Montana

6 bottles of wine and a whole lotta lasagna. Uncle Rich's, Wichita, KS
oh, and homemade chocolate cake

both of the grandmas wanting us to stay at their place. the one threatening the loss of breakfast if we chose to stay at the other's. Homes of Grandma Cooley and Grandma Wiles outside of Chicago.

a chef's hospitality in Chicago: custom appetizers and dessert. what was that cinnamonny ice cream deliciousness that he made for us, called?

and, weeks of love from my friends Ben, Marcus, and Scott

Why So Much Violence in the Old Testament

2009-05-07T09:09:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of questions I can not answer regarding Biblical stories, laws, or commands, but this particular question was one that really had me wanting an answer.

I wondered for a long time, how to reconcile "God is Love", to something like, God enabling Israel to disfigure a city, plundering their goods, killing young and old alike.

I won't claim here to have the ultimate answer, but I think I have caught a glimpse of something helpful.

As recorded in the Old Testament, in a conversation that happened sometime around the 7th century before Christ, the prophet Habakkuk pleads with God that the people of Israel will no longer be using their gain against others. When God assures him that they will not get away with such pride and injustice these are some of Habakkuk words:

Woe to him who builds his realm by unjust gain...

Woe to him who builds a city with bloodshed
and establishes a town by crime.

Habakkuk rejoices in God's promise that injustice will not go unpunished.

A recent encounter with a book about religion and exile, tipped me off to this understanding:

God raises up one nation to bring down another, not so that the conquering nation may become arrogant and flaunt their military strength, but so that the Nation which is conquered will know that their choices and misuse of God's blessings, prosperity, wealth, independence, are far from what God's intentions for those blessings were.

Whether it is the people of Israel- God's chosen nation, or any surrounding empire, any power driven people, the injustice is not neglected or ignored.

God is not pleased by violence and military victory. Rather, it is God's desire that the blessings he has given to us, become blessings used to raise others up, and bring peace to the nations.

It started with Abraham, the father of the Judeo-Christian faith. God promised him a son, who would be heir to a kingdom, a nation that would bless the world, bringing salvation to the ends of the earth.

The Next Day (Part II)

2009-04-14T23:56:00.000-07:00

It was early morning, I woke up confused. What happened?

Pain in my chest. It was real. That was it. Jesus, our brother and friend, our peace, our hope, absent from us.

I'm not sure if I can pick my head up off this pillow today.

My weary hand sifts through the scraps of papyrus I have, sayings that my grandfather, and father, could remember from the scriptures.

This one, a psalm of David. I knew it had its place today more than any other day because Jesus had quoted it last night as some of his last words. Eli Elohim, why!?

I close my eyes, I just would rather not open them. I hear the stringed instrument to the psalm, it's dim, and threshing.

God, where.... are....... you?

God, you, come down here and take the trip to Jesus tomb this morning. You, embalm him with the spices. I can not see him again like I saw him last night. His body nearly unidentifiable.

My loyalties split, my mind spinning. I feel so strongly attached as if he is still that body. Is he really going to come back? God, when?

My body is curling in on itself. It's shivering, and sweating, as if I have a fever. This response full blown, full body.

I grab my scarf from the corner table. My sandals are at the door. An extra towel for my face, I may encounter someone on the way to or from the tomb.

I need Jesus right now. I need him to help me do this.

(nearing the burial place)

I was sure the tomb had been closed off last night. What is this? Has someone already come for the body?

Peering into the place where, I thought, we had laid Jesus' body, I notice there is nothing there.

I gasp.

Two men have appeared beside me.

"Mary," they announce, "He's not here. He has risen!"

What does this mean? I'm shaken up. I head back for the disciples. He is risen? Is it true?

And then I see him.

Relief falls over my body and I run to him to kiss his feet. Tears flow uncontrollably as he asks me to stand up and go tell the disciples that he will greet them later. At this point, it's terribly difficult to leave his side, but who can I trust more than the risen Lord himself? He said he would come back from the dead, and here he is in our presence!

Jesus stayed for a while after that, 40 days I think it was, appearing to the disciples and performing miracles, I guess that was to be expected.

Some people needed a lot of proof to know that this "risen Lord" was really Jesus. He encouraged those of us who believed quickly, however he had some patience with the skeptics, letting them touch his wounds. I honestly wanted to ask over and over again if it was him. I was just so surprised. I wanted it to be him.

Apparently the soldiers, who were at the tomb when Jesus was raised from the dead, were given money, when they went to tell the priests, to say that some of us had come and taken the body while they were asleep.

Jesus continued to appear to others, which obviously removed the full burden from our backs. He then asked a pretty big responsibility of us. After Peter reaffirmed his belief in, and love for, Jesus, the Lord asked us all to baptize the nations, to go and make disciples!

He gave us the holy spirit and asked us not to cling to his human self, but to believe in him, and in his father who had sent him. And so we went. We talked about him all the time, effortlessly, no one had to ask it of us. Sometimes we missed him, but for the most part, we wanted to do what he had been doing.

I probably should mention that Jerusalem and the Roman forces were in an uproar. Jesus had been falsely accused of blasphemy, which his resurrection proved. The priests were afraid to let knowledge of him get to the governor. Because if people were calling Jesus Lord, and after being crucified he was raised to life again, Jesus' kingdom clearly held more power than Caesar's, or anyone else's for that matter.

Those of us who believed that Jesus was the son of God did a lot of convening and hiding because we were a threat to the political powers. We weren't intending to overthrow anyone's kingdom, but the Lord had been proven holy, and we were on his side.

This didn't stop word from spreading.

I think our story will go on for generations. It's the hope of the nations, the hope of the world.

The Next Day

2009-04-11T12:40:00.000-07:00

This morning Father... this mystery...

The "Messiah" was hung on a cross last night after trial, and beating, and fight. The storm brought in the chill, and we stayed out to wrap his body.

He's dead.

He's a body with many stories. He calmed seas and lifted "lame" men onto their feet. He broke down the walls of prejudice and raised up the poor in spirit.

We had been waiting so long and had absolutely no idea that Jesus of Nazareth was who, and what, we would receive to be our king.

But why us, anyway? He could have come a few months after we (Israel) were released from Pharoah and Egypt. He could have showed up during the years of our captivity to Babylon.

Instead, we got to feel his hands and his voice. We got to stand beside his holiness. But it was never big and flashy and celebrity. Being with Jesus was like nothing else I have ever experienced. It was this constant thriving. He reminded us of who we were, and he didn't allow us to step into a role which was less than what his father had given us here. He never drew our attention or our affections toward himself. He knew that we so deeply loved him and needed him. Jesus was not here for us to please.

He would ask us if we were still in the game. "Do you want to be here with me? Do you believe in me?" We would reevaluate and know that maybe we had lost sight, but that we could never follow a different rabbi.

Anyway, now he's bundled up in some cloth, oils and spices... and he's... Jesus, is in that tomb.

How did all this happen? Did I let this happen? Why did he go so willingly? I'll ask myself this for the rest of my life.

How could the world accuse him and mock him of these imaginary charges? To me, it was Jesus, but to them, someone to spit on, to let loose their guilt on.

I think of when I was a young child in the classroom or out playing, when someone would take the brunt of the ridicule though a bunch of us were guilty of the same exact act. I needed to cast blame so that I didn't look bad and find myself in the middle of a bunch of pointing fingers.

And this hurts.

God! Our friend, Jesus has been so wrongly put to death after mocking and breaking. I take myself back to the garden at Gethsemane... temple in the distance, Roman soldiers on their way. Jesus knew the whole time, and our dumb asses kept falling asleep. Get up, he'd say. I'm asking you to step up for me here.

He knew what was coming. We didn't.

I drew my sword when those bastards came. I was going to give them a whipping. Then I saw Judas. It broke me- anger and pain showing through my eyes and silence.

How! For someone we cared so deeply for, who gave us our every spec of worth. Jesus carried us through, he taught us everything we know. He took us under his wing and never gave up on us.

I miss him so much today. Even though I just buried him last night.

What did he tell us at that last meal we ate together? He said that the passover lamb would be slain, right? He told us that it had to happen.

We reclined together. We needed that time with him more than we could have ever known.

I don't know what to say, or to think. What do I say to Mary, or to Martha, or to Pete? We all ache here today. We feel badly for when we failed him. We hope he really knew how much we appreciated him.

We want to be like he was, but we do not, do not, understand the whole submission thing that he chose. What is this about my father's will? Really?

He wouldn't want us to give up on the things he lived for. He would be angry with us if we did.

Good-bye Jesus. Thank you for everything. Here now I let you go. (with all the mystery ever unknown)

We bear this moment together. I'll have to go see the others. We need each other even though there's nothing we can say that will make this better. I will weep more heavily when I see Peter's downcast face. My heart feels sore. Just when I think I have run dry of tears, they come racing from cheek to chin, cheek to chin.

COME BACK! Jesus!! You have left us here. You should be the next person to walk through the door, and we keep waiting and wishing even though we saw your body and took it down off of the cross.

Maybe we'll escape the hurt here for a moment asleep. No, sleep is no where near-by. I wonder if I'll ever sleep again?

We love you so much, Jesus.

We cry out and lament.

Spirituality and Television

2009-01-09T16:52:00.000-08:00

The episcopalian minister announced it, "Being gay is a gift from God".

A panel of three different spiritual teachers were on Oprah yesterday. She had viewers call in to ask questions.

The first caller was a woman who was looking down a road of great loss. She and her husband had invested all of their savings into their family owned Bakery and were watching as it dwindled out of business. She was desperate and depressed. What does such a person do at this kind of crossroads?

Another caller was a stay at home mom who felt unfulfilled and wondered what to do to be more spiritually conscious.

One woman called in blaming God for the cancer that her mother had recently been diagnosed with.

The final caller was a gay man who spoke of many years of hiding. It seemed he had many concerns. He was also inquiring about what he called an addiction to debt. He found himself uninterested in paying off his credit card bills even though he had the financial capacity to do so.

The 3 people that Oprah had on the show were leaders and authors in the area of spiritual growth. From my perspective, the three of them had some very valuable input to give. They also jumped the gun on some responses.

The panel agreed that the unfulfilled mother had to allow herself to be fulfilled by knowing her identity outside of being a stay at home mom. They told the woman with the failing business that she needed to accept her life circumstances and to also start thinking about the good things in her life. They told the gay man that it was a gift from God to be gay. They told the angry daughter of a cancer patient that God doesn't give diseases.

Sometimes the answers we can give aren't what a person needs in the moment. For instance, the woman who was blaming God for her mother's illness, probably wasn't calling to have someone tell her that it wasn't God's fault. She was expressing her grief and wanting to be understood.

I'd think that being on national television to speak about something as controversial as religion and spirituality, would cause a good bit of tension and anxiety. In fact, being in the eye of any audience is intimidating and of course no one has all the right answers.

As someone representing a particular faith, or a spiritual perspective, what would you say to a person facing a closing business and the possible loss of her family's most valued goods?

What would you say to the gay man wanting to be affirmed of his sexual orientation?
How would you help him with his addiction to debt?

Does your spiritual life add anything to this conversation?

Winter Does Not Have to Be So Cold

2008-12-01T13:14:00.000-08:00

People are going to be talking about the birth of Jesus pretty soon...

Many people get cold right around this time, and I'm not thinking of cold like temperature cold.

I'm thinking of the people who hate this season. I'm thinking of the people whose lows get lower, and whose souls want nothing to do with joy and cheer or any kind of holiday spirit.

I read this passage today- a snippet of the life and ministry of Jesus as Matthew saw it:

1Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, 2and he began to teach them saying:
3"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
5Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
6Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
7Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
8Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
9Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.
10Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11"Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. 12Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

So, first this goes out to the people who really struggle during the winter months.

Second, I want to note something in this passage as it relates to our current world.

It seems there's a stigma lingering that says that humanity is nothing but evil. Some people emphasize this more than others.

I think this passage from the Bible really challenges that idea. If Jesus is talking about those who hunger and thirst after righteousness then surely someone is that person. When he speaks of the meek, it must be true that people of that nature exist!

And so, these will be blessed.

Who is the peacemaker? Who is the pure in heart? Maybe it's you, or your neighbor, maybe it's me.

I think God loves the good that we seek, and he has compassion on the pain that we experience. Maybe this is where we begin as we enter the crowded malls, as we present gifts to people we love, as we listen to the struggle of those who long for warmer days.

I'd love to see people recognize the good in others. I think that God's compassion and loving kindness get lost when we talk too much about our own depravity. It takes a much stronger person, a much deeper love, to be able to see good, than to constantly call out the bad.

In some circumstances, the bad sheds light on the good but in many cases it takes hope and perseverance, compassion and eyes of grace, to reveal the beauty and good in life.

Entanglement

2008-10-21T22:41:00.001-07:00

Stopping unfortunately
To catch the ring of the left brain.

She mocks me.
The left brain smothers
The ever subtle right
Which swings and draws and giggles,
Or, at least,
Wishes to.

The right brain,
She listens
To the wind's through movement.
She envisions
The pastels of sunset on
Her empty canvas and,
She waits.
For there is an anticipated breath and a silence
Available in the fuller consciousness.

Gospel in a Nutshell: How I've Never Heard of Such a Large Shell

2008-09-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

Some church people spend a lot of time attempting to provide answers for the "lost", putting words to the truth for the sake of convincing people into belief.

I'm wondering though, are the preachers really "found" anyway? -- or are they just like the rest of us, squirming for the truth, trying to fit things together?

Don't get me wrong. I want the world to know the power, truth, and salvation of the story of God... I just don't think that the fullness of that is found in our theology, or our answers.

Committing to Living

2008-09-11T05:13:00.000-07:00

A stranger told me yesterday that he loves being in a city where an earthquake could occur at any time.

Huh?

He went on to explain that he is living how he wants to live because natural disaster could take opportunity and life from him in a moment.

Over the past two months I have watched the skies make San Francisco San Francisco.

I have witnessed openness and liberality here, in all its glory. Before me, two men kiss. Beside me a man lays naked in the grass of a crowded city park. Behind me a marijuana influenced woman dances to the street side drummer.

I have also hurt for the stumbling drug addict and resonated with the longings for security of the homeless as the alcohol once again soothes their hopelessness.

I've lived here alone, and I've lived here with people. More the former than the latter and now I have a renewed appreciation for home, for hospitality, for friendship, and for sisterhood.

I have been scared on numerous occasions, embarrassed on more than a few. And that's that.

The couple of sojourning musicians I met steered me from conformity. A beautiful California woman reminded me of the joy in listening. Forced independence and self respect have drawn me away from cheaper life outlets. Being under female leadership has affirmed for me that women can be respectable, and thus respected.

No definite end has been seen or is in sight, but purpose exists in today's events.
Let fear and regret be forgotten. I believe in peace. In shabat. Shalom

What Wine Tasting and Religion Have in Common

2008-08-06T01:55:00.000-07:00

...And How I can Over-think Just About Anything

It is surely only 7:15 pm here in San Francisco. I was in bed at 4:15 due to a great lack of sleep. You know how that goes.

But of course, my mind is racing, poking me to be productive, and my stomach has urged me to my feet... towards the refrigerator.

I remembered my ripening apple and mindlessly removed the sticker to chomp into what would soon become this blog.

The apple taste reminded me of a glass of Sauvignon blanc I had tested yesterday at work when I was learning the differences between each repeated wine on the rack. Why was one Sauvignon blanc different than the other? And, how were the two Sauvignon blanc wines different from the Chardonnays?

Upon experientially discovering that wine connoisseurs are not in fact just professional snobs, I learned a little about cleansing the pallet, how to smell more sensitively, how to sip more intentionally (basically why wine tasters do such stupid looking things.)

I was thinking about religion and especially theology. It's detailed, like wine tasting.

When we know the particularities of a wine, we value it much more highly. Asking what kind of container a wine was aged in or if the grapes were grown organically and in a valley amongst other organic fields tells us why we're tasting certain flavors. This is like, when reading a Bible passage, asking who wrote the letter or historical account, who the original audience was, what the author's intended purpose was, etc.

These details allow for a much fuller understanding.

But let's be honest. We don't live in a perfect world.
On many occasions I have desired wine because the buzz comes more quickly than that of a beer. And, on many many occasions I have stuffed my face with donuts ot pizza or skittles, things of little nutritional value instead of sitting for a fully bodied and appreciated meal. In time, I've compromised the value of scripture in order to make a point, or to give an answer.

But the depth of Jesus' way and the heart of God are more than a handful of skittles. Life is more than having answers and fulfilling our individual wants. And this is beautiful.

May we believe this and know it for ourselves and others!

On Giving a Funeral Message

2007-12-01T02:27:00.000-08:00

A despaired 26 year old took his life on Monday. His brother asked my friend and pastor, Todd , if he and our church would host the funeral. Todd, without hesitation, complied and began considering the innumerable thoughts and questions that might be raised by those left behind. What does one say in a situation like this one? Often the first question that crosses our minds is, where did this young guy go? Did he make the cut for heaven?

We weren't told that he had a great faith and/or heavy involvement in religious activities. And, beyond that, we don't know much about the after-life in general.

So I asked the question, what does the Bible tell us about life after death? About heaven and hell? Most of us have grown up believing that there are two places you can end up in. I'd like to suggest that our knowledge of these places is very limited and is obstructed by a lot of assuming. I think if we take an honest look at the Bible we see in the instances where Hell is discussed, that the focus of the discussion is usually on that which leads a person to hell rather than on hell itself. For instance, it is used of some religious teachers because their sins are great where they are asked, how will you escape hell? The mention of hell is used for emphasis on the punishment for actions but each instance should be considered within its context and the purpose of the writing should be of special note. I might chance it and say that most of the writers of the Bible were thinking about our current circumstances when they wrote; they were concerned with our struggle in this life.

What then, if we know little about the afterlife, do we talk about to a crowd who has lost someone they deeply care about? Todd was talking about how the struggle, the pain, and the desparity were not really meant to be. We talked about the truth that Jesus wants to see all of this revived... renewed. So, life is a mess, yes, but the hope, the hope is in the fact that God wants to see all things restored and made new.

There's a story in the Bible where a man dies. His name is Lazarus. Jesus really loved this guy. Well, when Jesus hears about it, and he sees Lazarus's loved ones broken and sobbing, Jesus is "deeply moved" and in chapter 11 of the Gospel written by John, it says, "Jesus wept".

He knew it wasn't supposed to be like this. He saw the ache in those who loved Lazarus... and he wept.