Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Bidden or Not God is Present
Kelly Fryer writes a entry on her blog about the differing theologies at play in our two political parties. It echoes the conversations my husband and I had this weekend following the debate. I know I said I was going to stay away from politics but I just can't...I care too much and on some level it is like watching a car accident. I tell myself I am going to just offer up my prayers and blessings and keep driving, but I always, always turn my head to look at what is going on. So, it is with politics.
Kelly writes:
She nails it for me.
In the debate, as I watched Sen. McCain get passionate about one thing and one thing only...battle, war, and defining who is 'good' and who is 'bad'...I was frightened. And annoyed. Mind you it was a foreign policy debate so war is bound to be part of the conversation, but when the idea of talking to someone else became just ludicrous to him--it solidified for me why I am being driven slowly mad by he and his running mate. In their world and in many (good grief apparently, most) theologies, a person is either 'good' or 'bad.' The idea that everyone is in fact--saint and sinner, healing and broken, wrong and right, certain and full of questions, wounded and the wound-er--just isn't how they construct the world. I don't know if it doesn't ring true to their own self or if it has never been presented to them or if it just not as much fun as being on the "winning" side.
Well, in other news, the kids are awake, and screaming, so any shred of coherent sentences that may be in my brain have shut down.
I read this comment over on The Paris Project blog and it rang so true with much of what is bugging me....it is on motherhood, but the sentence gets at the heart of what may be the problem.
"I'd find something to complain about, no matter the circumstance; because really, what I battle against is my own frustration with a world not yet made perfect." By Sharon in the comment section.
Come, Lord Jesus...Come.
p.s The opening SNL skit was dead on funny again this week...but I'm not posting it for fear of what the masses may do to me.
Kelly writes:
In Iraq,for example, McCain says, we're going to win, win, win!!!!! (sorry, again)
Obama says we need to make sure we're not spending the lives of our young men and women unwisely.
McCain says, the mothers of the dead soldiers are counting on us!!!!!
Obama says, yes, I know.
A lot of pundits are asking "is America ready to elect a black man president?"
I'm wondering: Are we ready for a Lutheran? (Even a Lutheran-wanna-be??)
Can we handle paradox?
Can we manage to be both bold and humble?
Are we willing to let God be God?
She nails it for me.
In the debate, as I watched Sen. McCain get passionate about one thing and one thing only...battle, war, and defining who is 'good' and who is 'bad'...I was frightened. And annoyed. Mind you it was a foreign policy debate so war is bound to be part of the conversation, but when the idea of talking to someone else became just ludicrous to him--it solidified for me why I am being driven slowly mad by he and his running mate. In their world and in many (good grief apparently, most) theologies, a person is either 'good' or 'bad.' The idea that everyone is in fact--saint and sinner, healing and broken, wrong and right, certain and full of questions, wounded and the wound-er--just isn't how they construct the world. I don't know if it doesn't ring true to their own self or if it has never been presented to them or if it just not as much fun as being on the "winning" side.
Well, in other news, the kids are awake, and screaming, so any shred of coherent sentences that may be in my brain have shut down.
I read this comment over on The Paris Project blog and it rang so true with much of what is bugging me....it is on motherhood, but the sentence gets at the heart of what may be the problem.
"I'd find something to complain about, no matter the circumstance; because really, what I battle against is my own frustration with a world not yet made perfect." By Sharon in the comment section.
Come, Lord Jesus...Come.
p.s The opening SNL skit was dead on funny again this week...but I'm not posting it for fear of what the masses may do to me.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
And then there is my mother...
Sunday, I experienced a conversation between a mother and daughter that made me realize I am beginning to fall securely on the mother side of this balancing see saw. The young girl is about 11 years old and her mother is not a whole lot older than me. As we stood in the aisle after the last service of the day, we chatted about miscellaneous things and then my hair came up. They liked my new cut. I thanked them and the mother went on to mention that she needs a new cut herself.
"You should get it like hers," says the daughter.
"Oh, I should? You'd like it on me?" the mother asks.
"Yeah. I want to get mine cut too."
"What are you going to do?"
The daughter motions across her face that she wants longer shaggy bangs...
as the daughter is doing this someone calls from across the sanctuary to ask the mother a question. She answers the person and turns her full attention (body, eyes) back to her daughter.
"How was that again?"
The daughter makes the motion across her face again...
"That's what you want?" (absolutely no judgment in voice...)
The girl erupts in a passionate, "Yeah, you'd never let me do it."
"That's not what I said... (she is obviously uncomfortable that this conversation is happening with me there but is calm and cool) I just hadn't hear this idea before. It might be cute."
"Never mind. " Big eye rolls and huge sigh, slight foot stomp.
Then to me, "She'd never let me do it."
The mom shoots me a deflated look and then sighs. Instantly, I realize that I am on her side. She couldn't win when it comes to hair. Which is what I go on to say.
"Between my sister and I, my mom says she just can't say anything...we just hear her differently than how she means it. There is some filter we hear our mother's through."
So, when my mom called to tell me that she was tired of seeing the faces of "Sarah Palin" and "Hillary Clinton" from SNL up on my blog...I remained cool.
"Maybe it is time to take them down," she mentioned.
"Oh, ok, thanks mom...I'll get right on that," I deadpan in response.
"No, no you can do whatever you want....I'm just tired of their faces."
"I can do whatever I want on my own blog?" (grin, grin)
"Stop that--You know what I mean, I just can't say anything..."
One foot stepping forward into motherhood...one foot securely planted in daughterhood.
Oh, and I imagine that the SNL skit has been moved to another page with this entry. ;) So, there you go.
"You should get it like hers," says the daughter.
"Oh, I should? You'd like it on me?" the mother asks.
"Yeah. I want to get mine cut too."
"What are you going to do?"
The daughter motions across her face that she wants longer shaggy bangs...
as the daughter is doing this someone calls from across the sanctuary to ask the mother a question. She answers the person and turns her full attention (body, eyes) back to her daughter.
"How was that again?"
The daughter makes the motion across her face again...
"That's what you want?" (absolutely no judgment in voice...)
The girl erupts in a passionate, "Yeah, you'd never let me do it."
"That's not what I said... (she is obviously uncomfortable that this conversation is happening with me there but is calm and cool) I just hadn't hear this idea before. It might be cute."
"Never mind. " Big eye rolls and huge sigh, slight foot stomp.
Then to me, "She'd never let me do it."
The mom shoots me a deflated look and then sighs. Instantly, I realize that I am on her side. She couldn't win when it comes to hair. Which is what I go on to say.
"Between my sister and I, my mom says she just can't say anything...we just hear her differently than how she means it. There is some filter we hear our mother's through."
So, when my mom called to tell me that she was tired of seeing the faces of "Sarah Palin" and "Hillary Clinton" from SNL up on my blog...I remained cool.
"Maybe it is time to take them down," she mentioned.
"Oh, ok, thanks mom...I'll get right on that," I deadpan in response.
"No, no you can do whatever you want....I'm just tired of their faces."
"I can do whatever I want on my own blog?" (grin, grin)
"Stop that--You know what I mean, I just can't say anything..."
One foot stepping forward into motherhood...one foot securely planted in daughterhood.
Oh, and I imagine that the SNL skit has been moved to another page with this entry. ;) So, there you go.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
So, I have this friend....
WHO IS TOTALLY BOSSY...and VERY impatient. :)
But I love her, and will get to her request just as soon as I can.
But I love her, and will get to her request just as soon as I can.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
When Your Kids Say What You Are Thinking...
Today is absolutely gorgeous! So while my goal was to organize and clean a bit, we headed to the park. As Big Boy ran and climbed, I sat with EG and took in the sunshine; giving thanks for the cool dry air. We had the place to ourselves for the most part until about 20 mins into our playing when a noise developed down the path.
Big Boy stopped mid-climb to turn around to see who or what was coming his way. He had to crane his neck so far that he nearly toppled off the rock "mountain" he was scaling. Upon seeing what was coming our way, he turned to look at me for reassurance. "Keep climbing...hands on the rocks." Is what I said, acting as if it was no big deal, inwardly I was groaning.
What was heading our way was a pack of preschoolers followed by two women I assumed were their mothers. The kids were jumping and pushing and basically, being kids. But they were LOUD. Really, really LOUD. They came closer. and closer. and closer.
Finally, they arrived at the park and descended like locust upon the climbing walls, slides, monkey bars and swings. There were 5 or 6 of them all around 3 or 5 years of age. Every bar and stair and slide was taken over by not only their bodies, but by their voices.
It quickly became obvious where the kids learned how to turn up the volume with such gusto. Their mothers were screamers and loud talkers. They seated themselves on a bench near me and alternated between screaming at the kids and then talking really loudly to each other as they tried to chat about their week. They had to catch up on summer travel (get down!) and fall plans and who had just had a baby (do not throw that again!!) and how she was doing and what they thought of her husband (what did I say?!)and what they were going to have for dinner and why their kids didn't know how to take turns (Stop it!)and how their oldest was getting too much homework (that is it!) and how picky their youngest child was about where he'd go to the bathroom and....
Big Boy slid down the spiral slide so fast, and then just stood frozen at the bottom taking it all in.
Slowly, so as not to miss any action he inched his way back over to me.
"Mom, we go now?"
So as not to look like we were leaving because they had just taken over--I mean, play--I told Big Boy to take one more turn on something "before we need to go." Why I cared what it looked like to this group I do not know.
Big Boy opted to play with the wood chips for a moment near me and then said he was ready. "We go."
As we walked back to the car, he took my hand willingly and walked along quietly. Nearing our car he looked up at me as if to say something he'd given much thought to...."Mom, those guys loud. I don't like when people loud."***
I looked around with that parental shame we have when our kids utter a social faux pas, "Shhhh, Big Boy."
Then, realizing he had really just stated the truth, and why should he be corrected for that (plus, we were really far away AND they could never have heard us over themselves), I added, "You are right, they were very loud."
***I will remember this tonight around 5pm when both my kids are screaming and Big Boy is trying to out scream his sister--reaching new volume and notes each night. It is charming.
Big Boy stopped mid-climb to turn around to see who or what was coming his way. He had to crane his neck so far that he nearly toppled off the rock "mountain" he was scaling. Upon seeing what was coming our way, he turned to look at me for reassurance. "Keep climbing...hands on the rocks." Is what I said, acting as if it was no big deal, inwardly I was groaning.
What was heading our way was a pack of preschoolers followed by two women I assumed were their mothers. The kids were jumping and pushing and basically, being kids. But they were LOUD. Really, really LOUD. They came closer. and closer. and closer.
Finally, they arrived at the park and descended like locust upon the climbing walls, slides, monkey bars and swings. There were 5 or 6 of them all around 3 or 5 years of age. Every bar and stair and slide was taken over by not only their bodies, but by their voices.
It quickly became obvious where the kids learned how to turn up the volume with such gusto. Their mothers were screamers and loud talkers. They seated themselves on a bench near me and alternated between screaming at the kids and then talking really loudly to each other as they tried to chat about their week. They had to catch up on summer travel (get down!) and fall plans and who had just had a baby (do not throw that again!!) and how she was doing and what they thought of her husband (what did I say?!)and what they were going to have for dinner and why their kids didn't know how to take turns (Stop it!)and how their oldest was getting too much homework (that is it!) and how picky their youngest child was about where he'd go to the bathroom and....
Big Boy slid down the spiral slide so fast, and then just stood frozen at the bottom taking it all in.
Slowly, so as not to miss any action he inched his way back over to me.
"Mom, we go now?"
So as not to look like we were leaving because they had just taken over--I mean, play--I told Big Boy to take one more turn on something "before we need to go." Why I cared what it looked like to this group I do not know.
Big Boy opted to play with the wood chips for a moment near me and then said he was ready. "We go."
As we walked back to the car, he took my hand willingly and walked along quietly. Nearing our car he looked up at me as if to say something he'd given much thought to...."Mom, those guys loud. I don't like when people loud."***
I looked around with that parental shame we have when our kids utter a social faux pas, "Shhhh, Big Boy."
Then, realizing he had really just stated the truth, and why should he be corrected for that (plus, we were really far away AND they could never have heard us over themselves), I added, "You are right, they were very loud."
***I will remember this tonight around 5pm when both my kids are screaming and Big Boy is trying to out scream his sister--reaching new volume and notes each night. It is charming.
Monday, September 15, 2008
SNL Skit--Playing it over and over.
Ok, I know I said I was backing off the politics for a while but I LOVED this SNL skit. It brings me such joy.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Sara Miles on Beliefnet
With this political commentary, I may end my rants and raves for the election cycle....
May. be. :) But even if you are tired of politics, or at least my commentary, keep reading.
"It's not that I think faith exists apart from what Christians like to call "the world." Just like Jesus, we're all born smack in the middle of the flesh and blood of a politicized world, and I believe we're called to engage with it. I'm not asking Christians to retreat from activism.
But I know that we're shaped by what we pay attention to. And that, like a tree planted by a stream, we flourish when we steep ourselves daily in the often uncomfortable waters of Scripture--the Word which demands that we see ourselves as fundamentally the same as God's other messed-up children; that we humble ourselves and admit what we don't know; that we pray not just for our side but for our enemies. We flourish when we drag ourselves to church and sit next to people whose politics we don't agree with; when we listen openly to the prayers of their hearts, when we offer them the kiss of peace even when we can't stand them.
On the other hand, if we avoid real conversation with other human beings in favor of being planted by the shallow stream of TV news, or the treacherous stream of attack ads, or the noisy stream of angry blogs, our souls are in danger. Our attention to all the disembodied trivia and rage and slander that pours forth in an election year can be poisonous. It makes us passive: we don't necessarily do anything in response to the media onslaught; instead we only reinforce our own opinions. A politics -like a theology--that's only about opinions and doctrine, not action, makes us self-righteous. And then we're only able to pray, like the Pharisee, "Thank God I'm not like other people."
"Preach it," says Paul.
So Paul and I agree on a plan for our church, a way for us to involve our members as Christians this election season. Here it is, our radical gay agenda: Read the Bible and pray for your enemies."
Here is the whole article
May. be. :) But even if you are tired of politics, or at least my commentary, keep reading.
"It's not that I think faith exists apart from what Christians like to call "the world." Just like Jesus, we're all born smack in the middle of the flesh and blood of a politicized world, and I believe we're called to engage with it. I'm not asking Christians to retreat from activism.
But I know that we're shaped by what we pay attention to. And that, like a tree planted by a stream, we flourish when we steep ourselves daily in the often uncomfortable waters of Scripture--the Word which demands that we see ourselves as fundamentally the same as God's other messed-up children; that we humble ourselves and admit what we don't know; that we pray not just for our side but for our enemies. We flourish when we drag ourselves to church and sit next to people whose politics we don't agree with; when we listen openly to the prayers of their hearts, when we offer them the kiss of peace even when we can't stand them.
On the other hand, if we avoid real conversation with other human beings in favor of being planted by the shallow stream of TV news, or the treacherous stream of attack ads, or the noisy stream of angry blogs, our souls are in danger. Our attention to all the disembodied trivia and rage and slander that pours forth in an election year can be poisonous. It makes us passive: we don't necessarily do anything in response to the media onslaught; instead we only reinforce our own opinions. A politics -like a theology--that's only about opinions and doctrine, not action, makes us self-righteous. And then we're only able to pray, like the Pharisee, "Thank God I'm not like other people."
"Preach it," says Paul.
So Paul and I agree on a plan for our church, a way for us to involve our members as Christians this election season. Here it is, our radical gay agenda: Read the Bible and pray for your enemies."
Here is the whole article
Sunday, September 07, 2008
It is in the Bible...
This past week my fall schedule started up. I attend a mom's group that is organized by a congregation that is a bit out of my theological comfort zone--to put it mildly. They are socially conservative and interpret the Bible in a much more fundamental way than my tradition, or I, do.
But they put on a really well organized mom's group, so in spite of nearly constant theological red flags going off as I listen to the speakers and my fellow mothers, I continue to attend. My pastoral heart breaks sometimes as I listen to what these women are taught and believe about their role in the world...but that is a topic for another time. I guess I'm a sucker for well decorated tables, yummy food, crafts and good childcare...and, and, every once in a while I come away edified and inspired.
The MOPS group is open to mothers from any denomination (or none) but the hosting church does a nice job of inviting the women to connect to life of their congregation. This past week they were highlighting the fall Bible studies...as the leader read over the descriptions she came to a study of 1 Corinthians. Very nicely, and sincerely she said, "...a study of 1 Corinthians, which is in the Bible,.." Bells went off in my head. For one nanosecond the snarky, cynical side of my brain piped up, "Oh, come on...everyone knows what 1 Corinthians is from, we aren't stupid." Then I realized that, no, in fact many people may not.
I've never been apart of a church which felt a need (or rather, felt they had the need) to be so mindful of people who may not know the insider language of Christianity. Hospitality, outreach, being mindful of how we welcome and invite the stranger has always been a passion of mine, but I was reminded that in many churches that simply means helping members greet a new person or putting up new sign so people can find the bathrooms.
It got me thinking about all the ways church is a closed system--all the barricades in place that keep people from coming in and us from reaching out.
Try to write a bulletin or to make your announcements for someone who has no idea about Christianity, never mind your specific congregation. Try preaching that way. Teach a class. Hard, huh? Convicting. But it is also so energizing for me...how fun would it be to be a part of a congregation that intentionally thought this way?
But they put on a really well organized mom's group, so in spite of nearly constant theological red flags going off as I listen to the speakers and my fellow mothers, I continue to attend. My pastoral heart breaks sometimes as I listen to what these women are taught and believe about their role in the world...but that is a topic for another time. I guess I'm a sucker for well decorated tables, yummy food, crafts and good childcare...and, and, every once in a while I come away edified and inspired.
The MOPS group is open to mothers from any denomination (or none) but the hosting church does a nice job of inviting the women to connect to life of their congregation. This past week they were highlighting the fall Bible studies...as the leader read over the descriptions she came to a study of 1 Corinthians. Very nicely, and sincerely she said, "...a study of 1 Corinthians, which is in the Bible,.." Bells went off in my head. For one nanosecond the snarky, cynical side of my brain piped up, "Oh, come on...everyone knows what 1 Corinthians is from, we aren't stupid." Then I realized that, no, in fact many people may not.
I've never been apart of a church which felt a need (or rather, felt they had the need) to be so mindful of people who may not know the insider language of Christianity. Hospitality, outreach, being mindful of how we welcome and invite the stranger has always been a passion of mine, but I was reminded that in many churches that simply means helping members greet a new person or putting up new sign so people can find the bathrooms.
It got me thinking about all the ways church is a closed system--all the barricades in place that keep people from coming in and us from reaching out.
Try to write a bulletin or to make your announcements for someone who has no idea about Christianity, never mind your specific congregation. Try preaching that way. Teach a class. Hard, huh? Convicting. But it is also so energizing for me...how fun would it be to be a part of a congregation that intentionally thought this way?
Friday, September 05, 2008
Superhuman Mom
Slate.com has a good editorial on motherhood and "doing it all" a la Gov. Palin style. It also has many other links.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Preaching Butterflies
Oh, go read Meta's new entry on preaching jitters, and the community of Saints surrounding her. It will make you much happier than tonight's ridiculous speech, or my commentary on it, ever could.
Tone Matters. Words Matter.
Last night all I heard more fear mongering...more of the same snarky, hateful, mean spirited "jokes" that I've heard for the last eight years. I am filled with my own venom and spite right now...
I have a messiah, don't you dare questions my faith and I find it offensive that the Republicans are using this tact to attack me. I am voting for Sen. Obama because I appreciate his tone and style. I appreciate education and thoughtful reflection. I know what community organizing is and it requires the skill set I think a President needs.
I am also someone who thinks speeches are more than just words. Words can change lives. Telling us who to fear isn't inspiring--it makes me want to crawl into bed. We can do anything and history has proven this. Our American zeal and spirit can be used for the good of the world or for our demise. ...but we must be unified and excited to act and make the necessary changes. Style matters. Tone matters. Words matter.
I think a maverick's zeal, shoot from the hip, and snarky one liners, has gotten us to this point, and I'm not impressed.
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