zinnhead

Communion's No Joke

2007-10-09T15:38:00.000-07:00

I never really read 1 Corinthians' instructions about the Eucharist before, at least not in the context of a sacramental theology class.

1 Corinthians 11:27 Therefore, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 A man ought to examine himself before he eats of the bread and drinks of the cup. 29 For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body of the Lord eats and drinks judgment on himself. 30 That is why many among you are weak and sick, and a number of you have fallen asleep.

Hold the phone!

It has taken me until my third year to realize I need seminary even more than my adult convert peers here, because I've taken it all for granted, my whole life. You go to Communion because you do. It's what we do. Certainly I remember, growing up, a big fight in my church when some angry people didn't want to take communion from the big bad priest, and somebody said something under their breath about "love and charity with your neighbors." And now we have some Anglican brothers (and sisters?) who refuse to take communion from so-and-so becaue they are gay, or they are gay-loving folk.

"without recognizing the body of the Lord..."
That's us, right? We're not talking about magic bread, are we, but about recognizing the body is us, gathered and symbolized in gathering? What does it mean to recognize the body of the Lord? Can babies do it? Can I do it? Can my evangelical in-laws do it?

"that is why many of you are weak and sick..."
Certainly the Corinthian community has been fighting with each other and Paul is addressing that. How might his explanation apply now? What might a return to "recognizing the body of the Lord" do for my own community's divisions?

The trouble is, I get the feeling there's no community that really agrees on what communion means, or what the body of the Lord is. Perhaps we need not agree, but agree to look for it together. That's why OK on babies, OK on my in-laws, and OK on me -- because all three are on the watch for it.

"A man ought to examine himself..."
As I've been meditating on these verses I have begun examining myself before taking communion, in obedience to this text. Turns out it's a great discipline, especially when I'm almost to the table, like a kid using her sticky fingers to pull herself up to see over the top. For me it is the perfect moment to ask myself: what's undone? am i trying to get away from anything? Knowing Paul had strong words for the fighting Corinthians as they ate and drank, I'm taking them to heart and meditating on how God may judge me in my eating and drinking.

Who's Talkin' 'bout My Jesus?!

2007-09-21T11:59:00.001-07:00

I never even heard of Kathy Griffin. I don't own a television. But a seminary friend sent me an article about the 100,000 bones that a Christian group put up for AN ADVERTISEMENT shaming Kathy for her comments at the Emmies.

Please.

This is the some of the problem in seminary. A generous sense of humor is decidedly lacking. I attribute this in almost all cases to insecurity, a thriving virus in the hyper-sensitive fear-saturated environment. Reasons for insecurity in seminary: fear of someone finding out you're not worthy of ordination, fear of someone telling your bishop/commission on ministry/other authority figure you're not worthy of ordination, fear of someone not liking you and telling someone else in the Episcopal Fishbowl you're not worthy of ordination, fear of failing the General Ordination Exams and linking this to your unworthiness for ordination -- friends, it goes on.

If I'm afraid that laughing at comments like Kathy's may compromise my future career, I'm going to look around at everyone before I laugh, and I may laugh in private, just to be sure. And maybe I will go ahead and not tell anyone which TV shows I watch, and maybe I need another beer, because all this hiding, trying to be on the safe side , is making me feel pretty anxious.

Or, if I'm not afraid, I laugh and jokes and make them. I don't even confine my jokes to lame seminary content like who wears a chausable* and who doesn't. If I'm not afraid, I'm relaxed and eager to relax with my colleagues and friends. If I'm not afraid, my Ember Day letters** include tales of "taking on the chapel and what I learned from it." If I'm not afraid, I ask for help when I need it, read what seems most important, and trust that all the committees and authorities would help me live through my potentially low GOE** scores.

Not everyone has it easy. Some are already persecuted or have generated their committees' skepticism for various reasons: sexual orientation, marital status, personality type, past arguments with "important people," or 1 + strikes already against them. But to operate, even as an underdog, out of insecurity, whether as an aspirant* among postulants/candidates or as a Christian among non-Christians, is never the answer. Operating from fear and insecurity is self-destructive. And honestly? It makes a person boring to be around.

So please. Take a joke, sit back, relax. Get comfortable as a Christian in a world of non-Christians. It's not that popular to love Jesus these days. And if you're even considering spending $100,000 to "stick up for Jesus," you're helping to make him all that less popular.

* My first week of seminary classes I grew very afraid when I heard two priests amusing themselves with a "joke" about chausables. Chausables are a liturgical vestment, and if you didn't know that, congratulations!

** I apologize to the 99.99% of the non-Anglican population for this post being written in Episcopalese. One good site for translation issues is here.

___________________________________

From a post-comment interview with Kathy:

And when you did win, you pointedly did not thank Jesus in your acceptance speech, right?
Here's what I said exactly: ''A lot of people get up here and thank Jesus for helping them win this award, but I have to say nobody has been less helpful in getting me to this moment than Jesus. I don't know what I ever did to him, I just think he doesn't like me that much, and if he had his way, Caesar Milan would be holding this statue right now, but he's not and I am! So I guess all I can really say is, 'Suck it, Jesus! This statue is my God now!'''

Seminary Mama

2007-08-06T14:55:00.000-07:00

The zinnhead vacation was long, and I'm ready to emerge from blog-hiding. Being really pregnant followed by being really new at motherhood meant not a lot of extra moments for electronic reflection. Even my home journal grew eerily vacant, at probably the time I'll want to remember most in my life. I have this new project, see. It's a doozy.His name is Ira.

Since the big arrival day in May, Ira and I are spending most of our time together. I've managed to read about a book a week on American Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism and meet with a group weekly to discuss our reflections. My grandmother died somewhat suddenly so Ira took his first plane ride somewhat suddenly that same day. Another trip to the midwest a week later meant we were tired of flying and sleeping in different beds every night.

This summer vacation is already winding down -- it is already August -- so when classes begin again in September I plan to have my zinnhead hat firmly on again. Blogging my pregnant seminarian experiences didn't pan out, but maybe the next chapter will prove more bloggable.

Coke, Culture, and CDSP

2007-02-21T08:57:00.000-08:00

On the pass-around internet surveys that ask you to choose between coke and pepsi (you know, the ones that begin with "what time did you get up this morning?"...) I always choose coke. coke is just hands-down better.

In the last few years, M has brought to my attention the horrors of the Coca-Cola company, most notoriously for its role in depleting the water suppy of India. If you've seen the well-made documentary The Corporation, you know there are plenty of reasons to swear off Coke forever. The convenience of Coke, its ubiquity, and the way it is so normal-feeling and American make it leaving it behind a hard decision to sustain over time. Right after seeing The Corporation I swore it off, and later picked it back up after the shock and repulsion of the facts wore off and I'd seen it everywhere, and the warm fuzzy image of it took up more space in my consciousness once again.

Last year at a Community Council meeting at my seminary, discussion was underway about whether to get a Coke machine to raise money to fund the missionary activities we sponsor. At one of those discussions, M raised the possibility of not using Coke for this project, suggesting that giving money to this company in order to fund missionary activity was not good stewardship and unjust. The reaction of the crowd at that meeting was cold and dismissive, and we got a Coke machine.

In my Christian Ed class yesterday, someone brought a bottle of Dasani water for show-and-tell as their cultural artifact. This led to a discussion of the Coca-Cola Company, and I was so surprised to hear the overwhelming majority of comments express a knowledge of the evils of Coke and its social and environmental destruction. It was a different sentiment altogether; now Coke wasn't what we wanted in our hallway, it was an example of the evils of our culture. But right outside our classroom sat the new Coke machine.

Has the culture of CDSP changed? it's a complicated question to answer. I wonder if its worth wondering whether the Community Council (student government) has different opinions of Coke than the student body as represented in that class? Perhaps the Council does not reflect what students would have wanted in their hallway? I wonder if sentiments have changed with the entering class's more intentional focus on justice issues? I wonder if M's comments had an effect? With only a year between the two experiences, it made me think: how do we know what the dominant voices of our community are saying? is it worth trying to figure that out?

The people in the Christian Ed class with Coke products in front of them kept silent. I kept silent in my state of observation. Who kept silent in the Council meetings last year? Who might have spoken up in either situation if the tide was flowing in another direction?

Pancakes for Idols and Fools

2007-02-20T09:05:00.000-08:00

We interrupt this blog to bring you the best pancake recipe that exists. If you're celebrating Shrove Tuesday but can't bear to leave your TV because Idol is on tonight, this is the recipe for you. What are you giving up for Lent? All I know is, it won't be these pancakes!

Homemade Pancakes
(enough for two really hungry people)
2 Eggs (seperated)
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 cup oil
1 cup milk (plus some later for consistency)
1 1/3 cup flour
1 tsp. vanilla (opt.)

Beat egg whites until stiff - set aside.
Beat egg yolks, add sugar and salt, beat in.
Add baking powder, beat until just mixed in well. Add flour, milk, and oil. Beat until smooth(not too much otherwise the baking powder won't react correctly) and add vanilla.
Add egg whites to batter and FOLD gently. Let batter sit for 15-30 minutes prior to cooking.

Get ready to pat your tummy! I'll never go back to Bisquick.

Friday Five: ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2007-02-02T15:00:00.000-08:00

I haven't done the Friday Five in about Five Hundred and Fifty Five Years. (revgalblogpals)

1. Share, if you wish, the biggest change you experienced this past year.
Finding out the first week of class, in my second year of seminary, that I was pregnant. This is followed by finding out I'm due on the last day of class, in my second year of seminary. So far pregnancy has mellowed me out.

2. Talk about a time you changed your mind about something, important or not.
May 2004: 7 bridesmaids is probably too many. (June 2004: my wedding.)

3. Bishop John Shelby Spong wrote a controversial book called "Why Christianity Must Change or Die." Setting aside his ideas--what kind of changes would you like to see in the Church?
Less anxiety, more instruments. Less biting, more kissing.

4. Have you changed your hairstyle/hair color in the last five years? If so, how many times?
2001: cut hair from waist to ears at midnight with boyfriend.
2002-2003: didn't pay attention to it.
2003: hair is at waist again; begins to annoy me again.
2004: cut hair to chin in preparation for wedding.
Early 2005: add highlights and layers for the first time.
Mid 2005: cut a short-in-back, long-in-front thing with more highlights.
Late 2005: no more highlights, getting even shorter.
2006: boy short, no highlights.

5. What WERE they thinking with that New Coke thing?
"We're bored. Let's make a New Coke thing."

Candlemas, a Goddess, and a Pregnant Seminarian

2007-02-02T14:17:00.000-08:00

I didn't want to go to chapel today.

Today is Candlemas. Surely there are others out there afflicted with the same eye-rolling tick irritated by words like "Candlemas." Anything that ends in "-mas" makes me think there will be a weird Christian legend having to do with knights or nobles or somebody's first contact with visigoths or something. If you have any such ticks, I'll tell you it can become chronic at seminaries. People really live up these special occasion days; it is like drawing the Princess Frostine card in CandyLand for some of my colleagues. I try to avoid these festive occasions because...it makes me tick. I only went up the stairs into the chapel because my friends were going. It was inertia. Me and my big belly went slowly up the stairs, grudgingly lit a beeswax candle, and hummed along with the Anglican chant.

Right away there was talk about hope, and light, and I started to thaw toward the pesky "mas"-ing. Then I heard a pretty rad sermon, reminding me that we weren't just celebrating Jesus as the light of world; we were celebrating Mary's first trip back to the Temple after the 40 required days of "purification." I was also reminded that this "mas" takes over where we used to celebrate goddesses all around the world, on the smack middle day between winter solstice with spring equinox. Fire was a part of these goddess celebrations, the preacher preached. I looked down at the tiny flame of my beeswax candle. I rubbed by belly. I felt fertile, and connected. Finally, I decided to give Candlemas a few mental props.

I never understood the draw of Epiphany; talk about "light of the world" makes me nervous, and apart from cornering evangelicals into talking about astrology, I didn't have much use for Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar. So, I didn't expect to get a buzz from another weird light ritual at this time of year. I kinda liked it, though, when it was all over. The fire and goddess stuff helped, and so did remembering that Mary is almost eclipsed in the Gospel, being 40 days post-birth. From here on out she thinks Jesus is crazy and hangs around for death. For the first time I wondered really concrete things about Mary's state at that time: did she feel overwhelmingly sad and really dread going to hand Jesus over to weird old men and women? Was she embarrassed to give pigeons instead of turtledoves (Did she wish she had a McLaren stroller instead of a hand-me-down Graco?)? I had some bonding time with Mary there for a minute. And I was a little proud to have my candle in one hand and my belly in the other and think of the goddess quietly to myself in my seminary chapel. I took my beeswax candle with me, and remember that it was blessed with holy water while I was busy doing my inner eye-roll. Good thing it's not about me.

Look Ma, No Coffee Shop!

2007-01-22T18:45:00.000-08:00

Finally, M and I have internet in the new apartment. Officially, 1 minute ago. The semester without internet was a frustrating learning experience I never want to repeat.

Now that I don't have to squeeze blogging into coffee shop hours, I'm free to pick up where I left off again. But, not blogging this past semester was a relief in some ways. I'm ambivalent about whether or not to keep it up.

Now that we're pregnant, will blogging time soon be out the window again anyway in a few short months? Is it worth continuing the life of this thing?

It's a Blustery Semester, Piglet.

2006-10-21T10:33:00.000-07:00

It's a blustery day today, and my friend Beachcomber says she is simply tired of looking at my latest entry's picture of Bush, which gave me pause. I haven't posted since 23 September?!??!

It's been a blustery semester, Piglet. I've been picking up on all kinds of weird (bad?) vibes on the seminary campus, causing extreme distraction and a hesitancy to post anything at all. Since the beginning of September, I have compared my feelings to those I had upon arrival last year.

As a bright-eyed new student, I was ready to be indignant about too much Latin-dropping and overuse of obscure liturgical words. Later I was ready to stand up for my rights as an experimental Episcopalian, to worship outside the chapel and outside the rubrics of the Most Holy Book of Common Prayer. And later, more settled, I just settled into the sweeping power of my studies, and widened my reflections to things beyond seminary.

This year, all such energy for indignance has dissolved into a different kind of energy which cannot yet be named. The winds, as the blow and sweep this morning, have blown for me all semester. It has been the strangest thing: I have fewer classes and less reading but find it harder to keep up. I enjoy talking with the first years about their experiences and find them much more mature than I was at this time last year -- and actually than I am now. They have their own personality that is forming -- it strikes me as full of justice and wisdom.

I feel like as the wind picked up this morning, waking me up at 4 am, the wind of the semester actually dying down for the first time since August. It's Reading Week here at CDSP - which means Spring Break in the Fall. I'm taking my first real breath since August; I woke up feeling fresher than the flowers Pooh is holding. I started Still Life with Woodpecker last night and continued it this morning, my last unread masterpiece by Tom Robbins. Nothing makes me as giggly as Tom -- starting a new one from him is like whipped cream and cherries on the Ice Cream Sundae of Reading Week.

Stories of the past two months gone undocmented:

* Sitting next to Rick Sutcliffe (former Cubs pitcher, current ESPN announcer) on the plane back from my dad's surprise 50th birthday, who gave us 4 great seats for the first playoff game between the As and Detroit. Even though we lost, I sure enjoyed that pretzel, those nachos, that bite of hot dog, and that soda!

* My dad's surprise 50th birthday, a gathering of 60 or so of my dad's kids, industry friends, and frat bros from all over the country. The 2 classics playing on the deck and the dance where all the 5 kids and their Sig-Os found the dance floor at the same time. the soup, the fish, the wild boar, the cheese course and the amazing chocolate souffle and all accompanying wines. Tasting a glass of wine that's going from $1000/glass in NYC.

* Grading papers for a professor and all those with whom I've repeatedly (as in again and again and again and again and again and again) shared my wisdom of footnote structure. Getting good experience if i decide to go the professor route.

* Getting the fish smell out of my kitchen. Have you ever not been able to eat ice cream because the carton has become permanently infused with fish odor? How about scrubbed every inch of your floors, cabinets, walls, and ceiling with cleaner and still smelled fish? I never use air fresheners; now I have two.

* Stay tuned for the biggest reflection of all, to hit the blog soon.

The George Bush of My Dreams

2006-09-23T15:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday night I had a powerful dream. I found myself in what I guess was the White House, and in some kind of receiving room. (It was actually my grandparent's bathroom, but that's really distracting from the rest of the story.) George and I had an appointment. We sat and talked, uninterrupted, for quite some time.

Friends asked me, "Did he see it your way?" I had to answer no, but it was because I didn't try. This wasn't a dream where you get all your aggression out on your worst enemy. Instead it was the kind of dream where you recognize their humanity, and somehow love them and care about them. Waking up from these dreams is always uncomfortable but calming for me. I always remember that this former object of my hate is probably doing their best, however pathetic their best turns out to be. And in this case, that's really fricking pathetic.

The thing is, he knew he was doing a shit job. He shook his lowered head to me like a bad dog. In the dream, he was ashamed of himself, and I was the comforter, the encourager. He was sorry and alone, and I had so much compassion for him. I was open about all my disappointments, but...we had a moment. He was so sad in our meeting, so weary and discouraged. It was tragic, and he roused my sympathies in a real way. He asked how my family was doing, and how my work was going, and I could tell he really did care. Poor George, I woke up thinking (quietly to myself, of course), poor, poor George.

It's not very fashionable to love our President. I've never been one to call us to more love or compassion for him. When my women's bible study in Columbia bowed our heads and the leader prayed, "O Lord, just be with our President during the debate tonight. Lord, just give him your words like you always do," I suddenly had to go, and never came back. I'm not very open to seeing his charming side. But I believe in the prophecy of my dream. I believe that he knows he's doing a bad, bad job like only a bad, bad President can. And now he's not my enemy; he just really needs a rescue. He needs an out. It's better for me to think of it that way. So let's get this guy out as fast as we can, and minimize the damage he does in the next two years. After all, he told me he was sorry. :)

The Carter Administration

2006-09-08T21:08:00.000-07:00

My nephew, Carter, bears the blessing and curse of being the first child, grandchild, nephew in his generation. He is a generation of one.

Some of us, including myself, also bore this incredibly torturous fate of having everyone's attention, gifts, and encouragement as we flashed our first smile, said our first word, and did our first pee-pee in the potty. The first-born makes way for everyone else; he carves out a mold by which all second- and third-borns will endure judgment. He names the grandparents and there are twice as many pictures of him as what's-his-name, born 2 years later, and who's-her-face, who came along about the time the first-born was getting their first-day-of-school picture taken.

And that brings me to the locus of my meditation. The first day of school.

See, Carter is still the only member of his tiny generation. He is a lonely-only, red-headed, high-pitched squealing, picky-eating, most organized five year-old you'll ever meet. No brother arrived to divert attention from his terrible-twos. No baby sister takes Mama's time away from pondering his social aptitude. Unlike me, Carter still shares no spotlights. He is still the star of the show. And the show is: Carter Goes to Kindergarten.

The whole situation has led to a network of adults with (dare I say too much?) time and energy to bestow upon him. Parents, grandparents, aunts, and family friends have Carter on the brain. When we are all together, Carter sets our tone, determines our activities, and ranks us in the order of his appreciation and favor. My family is now the Carter Administration.

Kids adjust to school, right? They eat food they don't like, they lay down at nap time and pretend to sleep while secretly coveting the tennis shoes of their new worst enemy. They push each other down; they spread rumors about each other; they talk about penises and vaginas. Come to think of it, kindergarten is a lot like seminary.

I remember when, at story time, Miss Joseph read us a story I'd never heard. At one point in the story, the main characters go on a hot-air balloon ride. The only part I distinctly remember was when Miss Joseph read aloud: "the balloon went up and up, and carried them elsewhere." She asked if we had any questions. I asked, "Why were the characters in the army?" This apparently made no sense to anyone else, including Miss Joseph. I wanted to die. Why did I ask that? Some of the kids looked really confused and for some reason, that made me feel humiliated. I was responsible for mass confusion.

There was another time that we were supposed to arrange these pictures of a fox skiing down a hill in the order that they happened. You know, re-arranging them to prove you know how a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end. And I got mixed up, and me and my crayon got sort of out of control. I had to cross off and scribble out several things, and make some arrows and extra circles. By the time Miss Joseph got to my table, I had resorted to covering the whole thing up with my hands, even from her. She pushed my hand out of the way, and I was completely traumatized by this, again inexplicably. The fact that I had planned to hide the mistakes from the teacher is still interesting to me -- that I would engage in a battle of wills with Miss Joseph at age 5.

So now Carter takes his turn in the dramatic world of 5-year-old Who Goes to School. It is the stuff of trauma-rama, no doubt about it. Still, though, there have been so many comments about the whole thing: "Carter's adjusting to school" appears at the ends of family emails or "Carter won't eat the food" in hushed tones or the astonished, "Carter is so worn out at the end of the day!" When the school cafeteria menu has traveled from Kansas to Colorado to California, you know you're dealing with not only the first-born, but the only-born 5-year-old of his generation.

Dearest, sweetest, most wonderful-est adorable-est loveable Carter, My Sugar ( I started calling him "my sugar" a few years ago and now he knows that's the incredible bond we share ):

Please accept my resignation as your Secretary of State, your cultural attache to California. I'm underpaid and underappreciated for the amount of time I spend adoring and coddling you. You're in school now; so go mouth off to your mother like I did and quit expecting me to think you're the most amazing thing that's ever happened. Since you don't have any brothers and sisters I am going to have to initiate this separation on my own. An aunt has to do what an aunt has to do. If this goes on I'll be doing google searches on your friends and sending you 1/2 birthday presents until you're 40. Just think, if I stay this attached will I be able to love my own children? Probably not. They'll probably be traumatized by your stunning intelligence and sharp wit and never be able to live up to the precedents you're setting every day like they're just nothing.

Tough Love,
Aunt Sarah

Movin On Up

2006-08-12T09:27:00.000-07:00

You wouldn't think hauling our belongings from #13 to #12 would make us so tired. But it is three flights up from that cozy dungeon to this open loft. thanks to the help of friends and neighbors, everything is out from down there and in uncertainly placed piles in the new place. I enjoy the putting away more than the heavy lifting, but I'm dragging this morning. Matt got up at 8 and did some yoga and is now flitting around making breakfast and coffee and I barely remembered how to get to my blog to post. We're going to pick up our California King today - which should make us feel like very-tall royalty. Did you know that a Cali-King is longer and narrower than a standard king? I didn't - but my 6' husband is delighted to discover that he will have 7' of sleeping length now. I also bought a vacuum. I am extremely domestic. I know you're impressed.

had great dinner and conversation with seminary buddy last night about Japan, Shintoism, Christian vocabulary, what is political, and who is a prophet. It was sometimes intense but "at the end of the day," (as this friend would say) we were all hugging and thankful to have the perspective that each one brings. I think the level of vulnerability among our seminary colleagues really leads to meaningful relationships here. A few of us have had the experience that friends at other seminaries are shocked to hear that we tell each other here what we're struggling with and pray for each other. Apparently at other seminaries this is ill-advised because it exposes our weakness and colleagues would "eat you alive." Wow! This is our training for leadership in the Church? Scary! I'm hoping to foster genuine meaningful relationships of caring and speak out against the competitive spirit that others seem to perpetuate. We're here to support each other, so that we can support others.

We're Just Two Big Happy Families

2006-08-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

My family has two branches. It's really easy to climb.

Boredom was the case that they gave me

2006-08-08T18:17:00.000-07:00

I decided that the episcopal church could live without me for the summer, so after I unplugged my laptop in my Columbus, Ohio hotel room I took a sabbatical from the network of headlines, emails, and public rants circulating around the Communion. I knew that some explosions were in order, and the only shrapnel I was interested in was what what might result from lighting Black Cats on the 4th of July. (Luckily my sister took care of that for me and I got out clean-legged.)

So, today I realized I had gone through all the other emails from this summer, and all that were left were in the folder marked "hobd" (House of Bishops and Deputies) and the number of unread emails in that folder totalled over 1700. So *ahem* I opened it.

And boredom was the case that they gave me. A case of unbearable boredom.

Not surprisingly, the familiar voices from that list-serve were giving their familiar perspectives on events. I gleaned a few links to good articles and videos and other convention reflections. Mainly I was interested in reading anything the ABC (archbishop of canterbury) had said since the convention (precious little) and anything that the PB (presiding bishop) had said in response (precious little in return for precious little). I'm still not even halfway through this mess, and much of it I can skip over, but when a new conversation pops up, I open it and look for a couple all-star commenters to give me a different take, and then I move on.

My sabbatical gave me the needed fresh energy to catch up on my episco-drama, and put some of the desperate tones and threats in their rightful place...taking them seriously is moving somewhere down on my list of priorities after getting a new toothbrush and before checking the price of pet stingrays. One of my seasoned episco-experts has reflected that this convention may have been her last for a while, and whatwith my canonical status being a question-mark for the magic year of 2009, I just may give myself a time-out.

This summer, pardon the expression, frickin' ruled, and it ain't over yet. I get to turn 25 in Maui. And I reflect, as I quickly pack and unpack all the boxes in moving to my new apartment, that there is more to life than episco-drama. I've given it and many other less-than-worthy preoccupations too much weight and shelf-space these last few years. And August is always the perfect time to realign the schedule with the priorities.

So, goodbye Episco-Drama. Hello letters to my grandmothers. Hello weekly phone calls to sisters. Hello figuring out what to do with 3 jars of cayenne pepper. Hello knitting. Hello exploring every trail in Tilden Park. Hello more trips to the beach with friends. Hello gazing at the Golden Gate bridge from my dining room.

summer to remember

2006-07-18T09:21:00.000-07:00

this summer has gone relatively undocumented, even in my own written journal, because of its whirlwind-adventure-like qualities. weddings, funerals, family celebrations. I was there when my nephew turned 5 and our trip to Chuck E Cheese was a hit for sure. You should have seen his face as he ran from ride to ride with his entourage of uncles and aunts bearing endless tokens and keeping count of his tickets for him. My uncle through all his nieces a martini-Casablanca party that ruled. We set off fireworks over Spirit Lake with my nephew - Katie got shrapnel twice from a Black Cat. I did a lot of hammock-ing with Katie and late-night talking. I got to meet a new friend of my sister's who is amazing and with whom I enjoyed great discussions, though I hope for more. I was lucky enough to stumble into a lunch with two friends whom I rarely ever get to see. Hearing about their lives in person rather than from others was such a gift -- and our waiter was an old high school friend as well! I went to a birthday party of a high school friend and found myself surrounded by the full gang of friends from my senior year - one of them I hadn't seen for five years. Hearing my friends play their music, talk about their jobs and their schools, and watching some of them get married was intense but I wouldn't trade being present for all that for quite a lot. I am so happy I made this long journey back to experience the daily lives of so many of my friends of old. Staying with our friends in Columbia now and being with them and their children has become one of my very favorite things to do. We moved shortly after becoming good friends with them and surprisingly have made time to be with them three times since we moved last year. Last night their oldest daughter, my friend and I made an Italian dinner complete with Chianti (sparking juice for the girls) and Italian Ice for dessert. We read through one of those thought-provoking question books through the night and even played sorry around 1 am. They have become so special to me.

A huge highlight of the summer was doing my first wedding, having the privilege of helping with the ceremony for my friends. It was such a learning experience for me to plan a ceremony and talk with them about their wishes for their special day. Incorporating their own faith traditions, their families, their heritage, the talents of their friends -- it was one of the best weddings ever in terms of familiarity, comfort, and love in the air. A very emotional wedding at beautiful Powell Gardens, south of Kansas City. When it came to the blessing of the rings, I turned to the glass wall of the chapel and held them up to the setting sun and I knew - this is where I'm called to be. With people at crucial times of life - times of joy and sadness and change. What an honor to be with them that day, so intimately. Baking the 150 cupcakes for the cupcake cake (with the generous help of a friend and my husband) was also a great learning experience - I can really tell you how to make good cupcakes now! :)

I haven't read as much as I usually do over the summer and I will regret that come September when my brain opens to be crammed full of theological jargon. I have been getting life education, though, which always happens when I come back to the midwest. my sisters always have so much to teach me and I try to listen and learn. I had some good deep conversations with many family members that I am already treasuring.

Wedding Fever

2006-07-07T11:21:00.000-07:00

Going to the Chapel, and I'm
gonna give a ser -er -ermon
going to the chapel, and I'm
gonna give a ser -er -ermon
going to the chapel, of my sponsoring parish.

one of my bestest friends is getting married this Saturday and the beautiful couple has asked me to give the sermon. so, i've been stewing, meditating on their commitment, the congregation, their readings, their relationships and families - and so many things are swirling around in my head right now that I wanted to take a moment and relish the ripe fields of my sermon-writing. I know after giving several hundred sermons I may not be as delighted as I am in this moment to take in all the information and try to communicate God's participation in their love and in the world, but right now I am totally affirmed in my place in life. There is nothing, not even getting a pedicure, that I'd rather be doing that ruminate on this day and this couple and the Gospel and marriage and everyone who comes to wedding fresh from a fight or a divorce or any confusing thing in their own life and those who step foot in churches only for weddings. It is just making my day right now to sit and pray and compose. To my seasoned sermon-writing colleagues, allow me this moment of pure joy!

General Notes Part 7

2006-06-18T22:14:00.000-07:00

How do I describe this historic moment?

I believe Presiding Bishop-elect Katharine Jefferts Schori put it best when she quoted Ephesians saying, “Glory to God whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. To God be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus from generation to generation, forever and ever. Amen.”

Perhaps many of us would not have imagined that Bishop Jefferts Schori would become the first female primate of the Anglican Communion. Perhaps we would not have even dared to ask for it! And yet today God provided Katharine for ministry with our Church. And Katharine would be the first to tell you – whatever glory we might perceive in this moment belongs to God.

I am so delighted to share with you my own personal perspective on the process of her nomination, election, and the consent to her election. Serving on the nominating committee was an honor but also a commitment. Each of the candidates we presented submitted themselves with integrity and impressed with me with their vulnerability at a time when the world was watching. Each of them have served and will continue to serve the Church with wisdom and energy. When Katharine came forward I knew there would be intense skepticism that she was a token, a nod to our handful of women bishops, a gesture. I reflected as Katharine moved forward in the nominating process that she was no token. As our group completed each step in our work, my confidence in her ability to overcome “token status” grew.

Serving on the legislative committee for the Consecration of Bishops gave me another unique perspective, because when the envelope with the election results arrived, my committee was charged to leave the floor of the House of Deputies, review the results, and recommend our consent or our rejection to the House.

Leaving the floor with “the envelope” was a dramatic experience for me. I heard so little political gossip before the election I had no prediction in mind. I thought the extent of the excitement would be knowing the election results before the rest of the House. Alas! We entered a small room and sat around a table and prayed together and sat in silence. When the chair of our committee opened the envelope, it was incredible to hear her name. We looked around at each other in awe and wonder. I realized again what an honor it was to be involved in this way. I had such a strong feeling that I was present for a momentous event, for a moving of the Spirit in our Church. I feel grateful to think that “I was there.”

At my seminary reception this evening, Katharine arrived to a thunder of applause and song, and the flashes of many cameras, and many open arms. Since she is a graduate of Church Divinity School of the Pacific, our party was quite a celebration! We toasted her and gave thanks. I felt honored to be following in her footsteps at CDSP. I pray that others who feel called to new ministries will be likewise inspired by Katharine’s example.

I am so blessed that being born into the Episcopal Church in the early 1980’s, the ordination of women was a given. It was never not so for me. My generation is not as impressed by women in collars as those of my mother’s generation. On this day, though, I am deeply impressed by the message that our bishops proclaimed. A woman in our most prestigious position, our Chief Pastor, our Primate! The House of Bishops, almost entirely men, expressed their confidence in Bishop Jefferts Schori and in her abilities as a leading bishop of this Church. This is a new thing; the Church is moving. I heard so many people say today, “I love this Church. I remembered today that I love this Church.”

Today I give thanks for the Episcopal Church and the new thing God is doing among us. I think you will see Katharine’s gifts and vision unfold quickly in the coming months, and I believe we will be blessed by her leadership. Truly, it is an historic moment. The people of Kansas, who have so loved and nurtured my own sense of leadership and loyalty, are heavy in my prayers and in my heart today. I hope you join me in celebration!

General Notes Part 6

2006-06-15T18:24:00.000-07:00

To briefly cover Wednesday and Thursday: Wednesday my commitee met but was unable to complete its work as planned. Read about this more at the ENS website I've linked here. So, the "sleeping in" to 8:00 am I was looking forward to has been delayed further to do some more good work. Knowing we are starting up again in the morning means I took the night off and opted out of attending the Presiding Bishop's Forum on Reconciliation. There is a great speaker line-up for this event and I wish I didn't have to miss it, but I'm confident I needed to take a time-out.

While making this post I am watching the CNN Larry King Live interviewing Bishop Gene Robinson, Canon Anderson of the American Anglican Council, an openly gay lay Roman Catholic, an openly lesbian UCC pastor in Dallas, a Roman Catholic priest and a Southern Baptism seminary leader. It is almost laughable to know so much about the role of sexuality in this Church, the depth of scriptural interpretation and tradition, and the complicated nature of our Communion and relationships among each other and listen to these sound bites that supposedly explain the whole thing to the American viewers. It's just laughable. It's just more complicated than that.

The special committee hearing held last night in the 1500-person ballroom was charged but disappointing. The committee set such a good tone that though comments were sometimes biting and divisive, there wasn't much snorting or disrespecting. I exchanged looks with people next to me, but we honored the standards set by the committee for respect and good listening. The Archbishop of York spoke again, as did the usual all star sexuality line-up. If anyonen wanted a crash course in the superstars of the Episcopal sexuality debate, last night's few hours would have been a good venue.

Our work goes on. People in the house of bishops want to eliminate my legislative committee's role from the General Convention process and have all bishop elections consented to by the Standing Committee's of each diocese as they except for the 3 months prior to each General Convention. I tried to lobby my opinion that we should definitely take this process out of General Convention, where these consents tend to become sensationalized and used to argue positions having nothing to do with the candidate who has been held up by the diocese in which they were elected after long discernment processes. The use of litmus-tests seems, to me, no different between the two processes, and the General Convention one takes up more money, energy, and controversy and drama than is necessary. I'm for eliminating it. We took a vote by orders, however; if you want to know what that is, begin your google search. I couldn't find anything right away, so godspeed.

After attending the special commitee hearing and having the work of my own committee heavy on my heart and mind, a time spent with old and new friends and Matt having a drink in the hotel was good for my soul. We talked about shaving, South Africa, casinos, college, and relationships, and I was renewed. My friends here with the Young Adult festival, other seminary friends, fellow young deputies and especially my husband have really bouyed me up in my time here. Through lack of sleep, confusing controversies, and the sometimes overwhelming amount of available wisdom around ever corner - I've turned to Matt and my friends with weariness and found hugs, support, and smiles and jokes.

The Main Thing...

I remember, only two days ago, my energy as I took to the floor of the House of Deputies. Today a familiar feeling set in – a weariness with the debate on the floor among all 800 of us gathered to pass our legislation.

Since we are such a beast of a debating body, we divide into committees. Each committee, something like 26 of them, takes a portion of all the resolutions before us. Each committee then holds hearings on their resolutions. Anyone wishing to speak on these resolutions, for or against, or to propose amendments, is expected to sign up and do so at the appropriate hearing.

Part of the frustration of many of my sisters and brothers in the house is that we cannot go to all the committee meetings and hearings we would like. Many of us serve on legislative committees ourselves, and would have liked to speak at hearings but cannot since we are in our own committee’s sessions.

Therefore, when the resolution emerges out of the committee after hearings and deliberations and is up on the floor of the beastly House of Deputies, some have then had the time to draft an amendment, gain support for it, and attempt to “improve” it. The dynamics of the House are not altogether simple, though. The time of day things come up seems to make as much difference as anything else at times. If it is almost time to go, or if the President preps us suavely, some things tend to go quickly and if we have just heard some fluffy resolutions and feel ready for a good fight, the microphones tend to form long lines behind them.

I propose in response to this that each deputy be given an intern of their own to follow and speak on their behalf! ☺ Otherwise, it’s a sticky mess moving the 800-member small group along.

General Notes Part 5

2006-06-13T19:12:00.000-07:00

If you want to read other convention blogs, check out this website. Today was another full day. My legislative committee, Consecration of Bishops, met again this morning at the ripe time of 7:30 am. We held three hearings today for (suffragan or diocesan or co-adjutor) bishops-elect from the Dioceses of Texas, West Texas, and Eastern Michigan, in addition to the one we held yesterday for the bishop-elect of Albany. If you want to read more about consenting to the election of bishops and my committee's work, the Episcopal News Service has posted a story online. I also participated in my first press briefing responsibility today. If you want to see the pictures of the briefing, go here. I will do that two other times during convention. It was very hum-drum today, since our business was very pro forma and procedural and....boring. We were visited by the Archbishop of York, however, whose picture I've posted. He gave us both a wonderful story and testimony but also a message from the Archbishop of Canterbury on the ABC's behalf. Read the transcript if you have time. Some are saying it is the ABC's way of distancing himself from us while still trying to influence our deliberations. I just don't know how much spin the thing will take, but I betcha it will be dizzy before long!!! Aren't the flags beautiful? George Werner, our Presiding officer in the House of Deputies, has made a special point of reminding us we are not a "national" church but rather an international body, with 16 participating affiliated communing member nations. Each one has a flag hanging to represent it and serve to remind us. Haiti's is outdated, we were told, but we're getting that corrected. The first picture you see is the end of my day, the U2charist kicking off the amazing in-depth work of the Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation for the time we're here. It was a great worshipping experience, with people singing and praying with much enthusiasm, seeming more relaxed than other worship experiences I've attended so far. There was heavy energy in the air, and if I hadn't been so exhausted and so late due to my committee's hearings, I would have put my hands in the air. People are geared up, not just for Bono's music but to participate in eradicating poverty and AIDS and be a voice for change in our Church and in the world. We passed around commitment cards and spoke of the things each one of us can do. It was a revival, but we were getting saved in a different way -- we were asking ourselves and each other to reach out to the rest of the world. We prayed not only for personal salvation but for transformation of the deepest hurts of God's Creation as well. It was a very encouraging thing - and tired as I was I left with great hope for the Church. People of many generations and of dioceses of widely divergent reputations attended and sang and prayed together. Eradicating poverty is not controversial - it is something we can get behind as those who love God and those made by God. I think it is also a very Anglican way of saying -- let's heal each other by getting together on this (MDG's, One Campaign, global reconciliation). Matt just arrived so we're going to catch up and I leave it at that. Tomorrow I have 7:30 committee hearing on the bishop-elect of California, then Eucharist, then legislative session, lunch, my last committee hearing and wrap-up of committee work, legislative session, and tomorrow night is the Special Committee 26's hearing on several resolutions pertaining to the Windsor Report, sexuality, and the Anglican Communion. Another long day but another day to look forward to again.

I also recommend reading the reflections of my fellow deputies of Kansas. We are a motley crew this year and I'm really enjoying what each of them brings. We have had a lot of laughs so far!

General Notes Part 4

2006-06-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

This afternoon we had a very long orientation session and it was, I confess, a little guiltily uplifting for me since I know the ropes by now on voting, testifying, the path of legislation, etc. I wished i would have brought my knitting for sure and won't be leaving home without it anytime soon. We did share our stories with our table groups, though, which was a great experience. Telling our stories is a huge step forward from "tell us your top 5 reachable goals for mission in 8 minutes" or some other assinine "professional" BS. Telling each other our stories, when it transforms us, is more amazing than any 10-point plan.

Dinner with deputation was a treat - got to wrap with a fellow deputy about interiority and young adults, non-duality, and integration. Very esoterically delightful. I'm so glad he and Matt will get this opportunity to spend time together again. They're practically in orbit together...around what i do not know. But when matt arrives tomorrow we'll find out.

Then I met up with seminary friends and later attended a gathering of young adults - deputies, Episcopal Peace Fellowship people, Young Adult gathering, and many other visitors. It was more fun this time for me than in 2003 because I actually knew some people and didn't have to stand by myself. Consequently I made a point to meet as many new people as possible, too, and there were many to meet!

Then we walked each other to our hotel rooms and I'm dead tired. Tomorrow my committee's hearings begin at 7:30 so I'm long overdue for beddy-bye. It was a great day of many friends arriving in town and getting situated further into the space, atmosphere, and community of General Convention. I'm hopeful for our time together here. Now if I could just factor in some more time for sleep -- !

General Notes Part 3

2006-06-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

My hotel here at the Convention is right across the street from the capitol building. Today, there are 2492 pairs of boots on the lawn in front of the capitol. Each pair of boots is labeled with the name of a soldier who had died in the Iraq war. They are in rows and separated according to which state they were from. it is an incredible sight, and it halted me as i was walking from the convention center to my hotel for lunch. The boots stretch across the whole lawn, and it is easy to imagine each pair of boots filled with the feet of soldiers, standing en masse -- the dead of this war. It was so overwhelming. Read about the project, called Eyes Wide Open, here.

Since we Episcopalians are here from every state (and many other countries), we can find our own state's section of boots and walk through the maze and read the names. Many people have placed flowers in certain pairs of boots; some have placed pictures or notes. In the middle, there is another group of shoes, representing Iraqi civilians who have lost their lives. These shoes are also overwhelming, since there are many pairs of shoes for the very very young and the very old. The soldiers shoes are almost all my age -- these were my classmates, my friends in childhood. They are the friends of my husband and the friends of our friends and families. And there were so, so many.

As I left the lawn in tears, I came across a demonstration for worker's rights and fair salaries in front of the mall attached to my hotel. The carpenters and laborers are demonstrating at several places in town against poor wages for construction-related labor. As I sit here in my room now reading over legislation and eating my cheese sandwich, I have felt more than in 2000 or 2003 a deep connection to the goings-on of the place where we are. The more we can be aware the better. Otherwise, we're just another convention, doing business.

General Notes Part 2

2006-06-11T19:53:00.000-07:00

I couldn't get to sleep at all last night -- perhaps from excitement but perhaps from the three hour time difference. So, the 10:15 (read: 7:30 West Coast time) lobby meeting time came early. By the way, Heat is not a movie I'll ever watch again.

Going to church with all the other deputies who were streaming in to Columbus was interesting. There was a little celebrity-spotting atmosphere in the air that I found amusing and made me want to make a mocumentary about celebrities: the real inner lives about famous Episcopalians. People were saying: Oh, there's that ONE bishop who's running for PB over there. Oh! There's so-and-so, YOU know, over there. Amusing, and yes, I participated.

One of the great things about General Convention is that many people come for many reasons other than to do convention business. Vendors and church-business set up their wares and services in booths in the exhibit hall. From vestments to Isreali wood-carvings to missionary agencies to AA to software developers to iconographers to the live music of the youth band of Southern Ohio -- it's in there. And everyone gives out food goodies, a plus for sure. People WILL try to hand you literature on everything you never wanted to have literature on, though, so be careful and look ahead if you don't want to tote home the entire contents of the Cursillo raison-d'etre and schedule of events. (But, no thanks, I've never been to Cursillo....no really, I'll tell people the booth is here.....oh, ok, thanks for the notebook!)

Other events take place simultaneously to convention, too, like the trienniel meeting of the Episcopal Church Women, and until this year, a weeklong convention of the Daughters of the King. Members of the Anglican Global Office are in town, too, and the delegation and bishop from Liberia came and worshipped at Trinity where there is a Liberian clergyperson and an ongoing relationship of friendship between the two. They came up to the front of the packed church and the Trinity staff person spoke about what the people of Liberia have gone through and how exciting it is that they are here. People started shuffling when the introduction and speaking became long, and that counts as my second amusing experience of the day. It was clearly a snapshot of a cultural difference -- all the white people looking at their watches, wondering when this "announcement" was going to be over, and the Liberian clergy and delegation rejoicing to be present and together where they were.

And it was Trinity Sunday, and the preacher did a great job talking about the Trinity as relationship, as friendship and urging us to put aside our own differences and be friends at convention. Great message at a great time. You could feel the energy in the room as he spoke. We were all gearing up for the good juicy fight scenes that Convention promises us. He tapped into our anticipation and I was glad to hear it named so I could be convicted about it. Plus he made quite a few historical references and I felt like Church History 1 and 2 were mighty relevant for somewhere other than our own seminary chapel! It was a relief. :)

We wandered around the convention center, each of us seeing people we knew and hugging and catching up. We registered and mapped out how long it was going to take us to get places, grabbed some lunch and wandered some more. I was starting to need a break and retreated to the hotel for awhile and began reading the resolutions that will continue to pile up throughout the convention. We took a long hike north for dinner, went grocery shopping, and then picked up our student intern at the airport. That's right, we get someone to help us get things handled and run smoothly! I think technically he is here to help our bishop, but surely we can snag him for some non-bishoply tasks. There is just so little time when the schedule gets going; I'm already dreaming of the ways he can help. :) And it's lucky because he is an old friend whom I haven't been able to talk with in a long time so hopefully we'll get to catch up. He's in love, for starters!

Committee work begins at 8 am tomorrow - so I'm overdue for bed!

General Notes Part 1

2006-06-10T20:47:00.000-07:00

OK - let's see how much General Convention coverage you can get from here. I'm posting from Columbus, Ohio, the site of the 75th Episcopal General Convention, our every-three-years meeting for church bid-niss. I'm here in my Columbus hotel room - with a view of the city. My TMobile wireless account is set up so I plan to update as regularly as time allows. Met up with some members of my deputation for dinner. My two calendars, official and unofficial, are filling up quickly. Losing three hours coming to Ohio was strange - i got on the plane at 9am and off at 4pm. Now I'm moved in and taking it all in, spending a lot of time praying and tapping in to all those everywhere who are praying from home and work.

Haven't timed the hike to the covention center yet but my fellow deputies are all in a twitter with the one mile distance. I think it will be a good hike. Tomorrow I'll try to stock up on breakfast and snack goodies, go to church at Trinity right down the street, and maybe pick up our intern at the airport. Some people start committee work tomorrow but not me - I don't start until Monday morning.

I'm going to watch Austin Power and try to fall asleep.

General Convention - another reporter?

2006-06-05T10:55:00.000-07:00

The Episcopal Big Meeting is coming up in one week and I'm wondering if I should post updates on the days here on the blog or send out a mass email. Post a comment with your opinion. So far I know I'm working with the Consecration of Bishops committee, being a media briefer, and doing some thing for Episcopalians for Global Reconciliation. I'm going to an Episcopal Women's Caucus breakfast, the Young Adults reception and get-together, and attending a U2charist. I'll probably be presenting a video on Miqra, presenting with the Presiding Bishop Nominating Committee our nominees for the next PB, and loitering at the CDSP table and events. Sure, I'll have time to blog. Why not! :)

In other news I got really sick at the end of Matt's parents visit and now I can't smell or taste and have no energy and a really hideous cough.

I have watched 5 movies in the last 2 days.

Also check out the Octave of Prayer tomorrow on the Episcopal General Convention website for a familiar face. Yeee- ow!

I AM.... impatient

2006-05-23T15:35:00.000-07:00

Since buying the 3/4 ton diesel truck, I have become acquainted with a new side of myself - honky glam.

Yesterday we went to register our new baby, and I looked awesome in my greasy hair, holey too-small T-shirt, and chapel-of-love manicure. As we pulled into the DMV parking lot, Matt said, you sure got some honky glam going today sweetheart. I said, this is trucker glam, honey, I hope you like it.

In honor of the purchase, it was definitely in order that we take our friends Chil and Pallie out for dinner. We've probably spent as much time in their Saturn as they have, and they've even loaned it to us for Saturday trips to Santa Cruz! I mean, they've been great. Since we might not be the primary drivers of their car anymore, we wanted to thank them real nice for what they've did fer us.

Cafe Gratitude is a gem of the Bay Area raw foods movement, and they have a new location in Berkeley. Chil and Pallie are usually up for the unusual, and we were pretty curious oursleves, being from Midwestern Meat Stock, so we walked our butts down to Shattuck and got a table right away. Raw is the word. Everything is "alive" as they say. And pretty derishus, too. All the dishes are named things like "I am Abundant" or "I am Eternally Sweet" or "I am Inspired" so when you order, you talk real nice about yerself. You share tables with whomever is around you, which was cool, and they give you cards from their "game" to play, which goes something like: "Say ' I enjoy giving of myself' three times to the person next to you." My smoothie was amazing for being dairy-free and the "cheese" (ground whipped cold seeds mush) was frickin great. And Phil found two bugs on his meal. I wasn't sure if that was part of the hipness of the adventure or just wrong. When Chil and Pallie had to scoot to make it to night-church, Matt and I ordered dessert (also fabulous) and hung around a little.....no, a lot.....longer.

When the check finally came, three parties had eaten and left in the time that we had. We had fallen into the black hole of cafe gratitude, and the hip-factor really lost points for me as a result. I guess I wasn't cool enough to wait 45 minutes for a check. I got kind of cranky, so props to Matt for sticking it out. But I left knowing one thing about myself,

I AM IMPATIENT.

the Actually Done

2006-05-20T17:38:00.000-07:00

reading the book that's been abandoned since January
tieing off the knitting project, abandoned since January
watching three movies
back to back to back

taking my time to make good lunches
breakfasts and dinners
parties everywhere
two a day
graduation pictures

rolling around with partner
swapping to-do list ideas
interrupting each other's tasks
with silly questions like "how do you get this to print in color?"
and to dream big a little

Where should we go to church tomorrow?
Should I cook the snow peas with more ginger than last time?
Read your Blue Book.
The new priorities,
for just a summer,
emerge like a cute snail from under a green leaf.

the Almost Done

2006-05-16T21:21:00.000-07:00

The Feeling of Almost Done:

the stomach twitter dying down,
fewer cups of coffee per hour,
allowing myself to look past the FINAL DAY mark on the calendar,
remembering what the sun looks like,
acquainting myself with the outside air,
starting to answer my phone again,
running out of bloggable ideas and other procrastination attempts,
no more new zits erupting,
absolutely no more ways to rearrange the furniture,
all nails are painted,
the last paper has been printed ("blank ink low")
or emailed ("read receipt - your message has been delivered"),
I'm in my pajamas at 4 pm AGAIN, for the last day this week,
I begin to recall the sound of the voice and the look of the face of my spouse,
I'm out of sticky notes and tea bags and all highlighters are completely drained,

The EnD Of thE SemEStEr.

Friday Five

2006-05-12T15:51:00.000-07:00

This Friday Five is all about Conferences. Since the Episcopal General Convention is coming up, it is on the brain. I keep to the theme in anticipation.

1. Describe a memorable conference, retreat, workshop or convention you've attended.
At General Convention in 2000, I was innocently sitting in my Kansas deputy chair when some guy from Dallas poured salt under Louie's chair; apparently this was an effort at exorcism since Louie is gay. The deputy from Dallas was asked to leave and some of us gathered and sang We Shall Overcome on the convention floor. I felt both old and young in that group at that moment. I was only 18 among a lot of 60-and-ups, but I was witnessing something that was profoundly tragic, and then hopeful and inspiring. Many of the General Convention votes are made through prayer and silent deliberation; I remember once exchanging teary smiles with my neighbors after we'd voted. After the vote for Gene Robinson in 2003, I ran to the back as soon as we took a break and Matt and I hugged and hugged. That was a time when I knew I had to vote my conscience because nothing else was worth following.

2. Tell us about a memorable speaker or preacher you've heard.
I remember when Mark McDonald preached at Convention eucharist in 2003 -- "We dare not change the good news for the poor into a chaplaincy for the rich!" and the woman next to me yelled, "PREACHER!" and I felt myself tear up. I'd never heard an Episcopalian preach like that before, to yells and claps from the crowd and "amen!" punctuating rhythmic exhortations. I felt a new pride in my tradition that day. I heard Michael Curry and Steven Charleston both preach that week, too, and the pride swelled more.

3. Do you attend all of the scheduled events, or play hooky? If the latter, what do you do with your free time?
I go strong until about Day 4 and then I have to regroup somehow. Usually I hole up with coffee and a totally unrelated project for a few hours and then return to the world. This year it will be my knitting! Last year I made scrapbook notebooks for deputies to put memorabilia into when the big top came down and we were all in planes, trains, and lexii for the journey home. In the evenings I like to try the weirdest, most hole-in-the-wall food I can find, off the beaten path. Last General Convention it was a quirky Vietnamese place where the pho got me through five days of being sick. Thank you, quirky Vietnamese place! I will always remember you. I also tend to gravitate toward ice cream shops and bookstores when I have free time at conferences.

4. Do you like having a roommate or would you rather have a room to yourself?
Room to myself unless it is with sisters or husband. I'm rawther like Eloise when I'm traveling--very particular requirements and circumstances become essential. I must be free to fart, wear lowrise pants and tank tops, and sing light rock at the top of my lungs without inducing anyone's suffering. Sometimes I have to smoke a cigarette in the middle of the night. During General Convention I must be able to keep strange hours emailing everyone the day's highlights and pouring over legislation, sometimes while watching Law and Order reruns and clipping my toenails. You don't want to be there for that, do you?

5. What's the most exotic location you've conferenced or retreated?
elizabeth, new jersey! Oh, it was simply marvelous!!! :)

Learn about the Episcopal General Convention here.

Spring Fling or Spring Flick?

2006-05-09T11:48:00.000-07:00

Everyone seems to fall in love or out of love in Spring. It has always been late Spring or early Summer that my major relationships started and ended. My sister's year-and-a-half relationship just ended. Eeverywhere on the beach Sunday people were coupling off and googly-eyed.

But it isn't just romance. California is on honeymoon with its new bishop-elect. Me and my first year of seminary are about to break up. Friends are scattering across the country in just two weeks now, and soon I'll be off on a summer pilgrimage of sorts.

People are peeling off their sweaters around here and donning summer duds. Lots of white and pink and yellow everywhere. People are looking cuter as they anticipate leaving school and going on trips. People are preparing; eyes are all looking toward the horizon. We sit in class, but we're not really there. We write our papers as we think about what to pack and who to call next. Every day is one day closer to something new.

This creates a lot of energy build-up, which I think accounts for Spring twitterpation. Everyone is sort of vibrating -- either with caffeine to finish everything on time or with excitement to be done with the semester -- and people are giggling more as a result. Everyone seems to have on moon boots or a tigger-tail. People are barely touching the ground. Even people who are fighting look like they are about to make out.

Late Chinese

2006-04-25T16:45:00.000-07:00

If you've never had Chinese at 11:00 at night in Berkeley with your friends from Kenya and Alabama, I really recommend it. I had a little stomach ache when I woke up this morning, but I count it all as gain.

We went from our seminary to experience the California Bishop Walkabout at the Cathedral in San Francisco last night. I have to say, having my Kenyan friend along was a great perspective on the whole affair.

Hypercolor-Nails-Good-Friday and the-Ocean-Easter

2006-04-17T11:45:00.000-07:00

Matt cringes when I bring up anything at all as "our tradition." I admit; I'm hopelessly sentimental for family traditions, so I've had a hard time holding back these first two years of marriage. I do often think to myself, Will this become a tradition? Wait, have we done this before? It's a tradition!

So, when Matt suggested we go to the ocean on Easter, I was thrilled -- we've gone on a nature adventure the last three Easters! This time we had the ocean to explore. We ended up at the Cliffhouse area of Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, walking along Ocean Beach and through the ruins.

Good Friday was also its own adventure. H and I met to study and ended up get pedicures and manicures. The only polish this place had that didn't have formaldehyde was a polish that changes colors in response to heat and cold. So, I'm sometimes-dark-pink-sometimes-pale-pink. As our Lord hung on the cross, I indulged toes and fingers, got ice cream and udon soup, and read about the English ReformationS. H and I always start with very specific, sensible tasks and end up miles away basking in the sun or getting our cuticles pushed.

It was a great Holy Week, full of traipsing around the Bay Area to see cool takes on each service and dreaming about the end of the semester. Coming up: a summer of General Convention, 4 weddings (and hopefully no funeral.) My sisters and I are going to move in together for a month and recreate our childhood as a time free of fights and full of adoring one another without reservation.

911 Emergency

2006-04-12T14:26:00.000-07:00

I'm a Porsche 911!

You have a classic style, but you're up-to-date with the latest technology. You're ambitious, competitive, and you love to win. Performance, precision, and prestige - you're one of the elite,and you know it.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

Probably the worst blog quiz I've taken to date.
Enjoy!

AWOL from "Allies" ?

2006-04-08T14:29:00.000-07:00

Went to a great morning of LGBT ally training facilitated by some third years here at seminary, their brainchild out of a project for their pastoral leadership class. One attendee of the training made a comment that hit me to the core.

"Following this military metaphor we're using today, let's think not only of our allies but also our enemies..."

I was struck. If I call myself an ally, am I invoking a military mindset and language that contradicts my own commitment to nonviolence?

In college, I was introduced to living as an ally through KU's Q&A organization. My boyfriend's mother was an out lesbian, living with her partner, and I learned a lot those years about sexuality and orientation. When my bishop called for a diocesan task force for human relationships (read: sexuality) I served and heard quite the spectrum of feelings and theological positions on issues of sexuality. Now in the Bay Area, I carry with me the reality of the Midwest, where the hand-holding of two men always leaves a wake of eye-rolling, jeers, and or threats from the beds of pick-up trucks. This was a place where my hairy legs outed me in the minds of classmates, teachers, priests, and friends. Just last week when I went home for Spring Break without my husband, more than one person asked me if Matt and I were "still getting along" since I wasn't traveling with him! People just talk. A lot. As one seminary colleague pointed out to me, the talking takes many forms. In Atlanta, for instance, you might out someone by whispering, "Did you hear about so-and-so? Bless his heaaaaaaaaart." All this time in the midwest, I tried by word and deed to self-identify as an "ally."

Now, though, I'm taking another look. What else might I call myself that isn't reminiscent of the current U.S.-Britian collaboration in Iraq? I've thought enough about military in our culture to know that using the language and imagery of that institution is a way of consenting to it. If I'm an "ally," am i in a war? How does thinking of advocacy in terms of war constrict the flow of compassion in the process?

PS: I'm a Talent.

I'm a Talent!

You're a risk-taker, and you follow your passions. You're determined to take on the world and succeed on your own terms. Whether in the arts, science, engineering, business, or politics, you fearlessly express your own vision of the world. You're not afraid of a fight, and you're not afraid to bet your future on your own abilities. If you find a job boring or stifling, you're already preparing your resume. You believe in doing what you love, and you're not willing to settle for an ordinary life.

Talent: 67%
Lifer: 26%
Mandarin: 51%

Take the Talent, Lifer, or Mandarin quiz.

"There is Bad Religion, Just Like There is Bad Art and Bad Cooking."

2006-04-07T18:03:00.000-07:00

So said Karen Armstrong last night at an Episcopal Church in Oakland. She's right. Since the acoustics and mic system weren't so hot as she spoke last night, I meditated for most of the event. As her voice faded in and out about nonviolence, the axial age, and the meaning of love, I imagined myself walking around on the ceiling of the huge urban church. I pictured myself as an alien observer: all these humans had gathered to hear what this famous woman had to say. It was very meaning-of-life, universal-human-family type stuff. One man said he had been so inspired by her work that he felt she was a saint. Karen's message made it a good time to imagine myself as alien observer. She spoke of all roads leading to God, loving your fellow human, the human family, human ethics. I felt like it was a speech called, "The World and Everything and Always in 45 minutes or less."

Why didn't I feel much inspired by such a universalizing of the human spirit and the human predicament? I can't quite say. I agree with her that bad religion is the kind that draws too many lines where there can be open space, that sees black and white where there is technicolor, that is concerned with who's in and who's out. I agree that it's much like bad art and bad cooking for me, too, because when I encounter it, it sorts of turns my stomach, invokes a laugh, and I move on. I think my struggle with thinkers like Karen Armstrong and Joseph Campbell is that I don't know where to engage their thoughts. The experience I have is either: "Yeah, I know, let's get on with working on specific injustices" or: "This isn't nuanced enough; it's oversimplifying things." I haven't seemed to find a place for it in my aha-moments box yet.

Our prospective student event here at the seminary is drawing to a close. On the student panel portion, one question we got was particularly provoking: How does our community deal with crisis when it arises? It gave the four of us on the panel a chance to reflect on how things become crises in the first place - and how empowered we felt to take a problem or a question to the "right person" when the time comes. One student and I reflected afterward about my own personal struggle with the worship life of the seminary and how I've come to voice my questions and encourage community conversation about it. I've felt supported and well-challenged by my colleagues to be specific and hopeful about worshipping in our chapel, so that it has been a learning experience I will always cherish. When I would talk to some people I would get warnings like, "Be careful. People in charge can evaluate you based on your complaints." or "What do you propose to do with 2,000 years of traditional worship just because you think its old?" But to me, religion that keeps people out and turns people off is bad religion. And just like bad cooking, it really stinks up the place. In those cases, Sunday brunch out is good competition.

Red-Headed Reset

2006-04-05T15:25:00.000-07:00

Funny how we feel "forced to do" certain things. When I started the semester taking five classes, I felt I was forced to be completely vigilant about school. I read every single thing. I read morning and night. I wrote papers in advance. I was extremely organized and focused. I could be found following a daily schedule from January to Spring Break. People knew where to find me.

The week before Spring Break, something came loose. I took a breath and put off the studying for the coming week after the break. A friend and I started off on some errands in Berkeley, and ended up crashing a Russian Orthodox wake in San Francisco, strolling the Presidio, and chowing in Japantown. When I saw the ocean, i knew. I had let beauty lapse. I had forgotten to look up. Though I could recite Morning and Evening Prayer to you and could tell you exactly what all the bulletin boards on campus looked like, and who had written what on blackboard, i couldn't have told you one thing about one current event, and I wouldn't have known what the water looked like lately.

Seeing my nephew was another wake-up call. He hugged me and we laughed and laughed. We threw the frisbee, did science experiments, and watched Sponge Bob. My dad and I had one of our best talks ever over a bottle of Ridge. Brie and I grew closer and I became extremeley attached to her children. Esme greeted me with "Sarah-hug" morning and night. Five-year-old Ayla and I talked about how her radio made her feel alive. Amaris liked my cocunut squash dinner and ate up all the leftovers. We ate at my favorite bakery and my favorite lunch joint in Columbia. It was old times and it reminded me how different my life is now. Before coming home I saw both my godchildren in one day -- this is particularly amazing because one lives in Arkansas and one in Kansas City! There were children all around me over break and I felt I was gaining wisdom through observation and experimentation. Mothers imparted their wisdom. Even today over lunch my boss imparted more wisdom to me.

For the break I did homework only while on an airplane. I furiously completed a lot of work upon arriving back in Berkeley. While I was away, someone hit my reset button. I had gotten cranked up, twisted around and my brow was all knit up. When I came home, I could feel myself breathing again. I knew when i got home that I needed to hit the reset button again. Just as I felt forced to maniacally study, now I felt forced to let it go. Only now I knew I wasn't forced but rather had many choices. I took Monday off, missed my classes and spent time with Matt. I don't regret it. It was the last part of break i didn't know I needed. It was another step back and another breath. I called it "readjusting to California." Tuesday, as a result, was heavenly. I was rested and relaxed and I felt I had my priorities straight again. Somewhere along the way this semester I became a crazy woman. I didn't hang out as much and Matt and I hardly saw each other. I missed some opportunities to grow relationships and listen to myself. I became a graduate student machine. Nothing more was permitted. Having spent a week with my friends and their three kids, I remembered how much more to life there is than books, papers, and chapel. I remembered I live in the Bay Area, not the midwest, and I intend to take full advantage of it. I'm going to get in touch with the Pacfic. My two-month stint as a school rat is over. I'm Sarah again.

This means reading Bitch magazine, knitting, watching Democracy Now, writing letters to my grandmother, drinking home brew, going on dates, painting, journaling, reading non-school books, cooking new things, going to community events, going to the ocean, hiking Tilden, and sitting in the sun.

Just in time for Spring, I am blooming.

Come to My Dinner Party...and Take the First Bite

2006-03-08T17:15:00.000-08:00

It would be rude, my Kenyan priest friend tells me, to invite someone over to your house and not take a bite before your guests do. It comes from a tradition suspicious of poison, he tells me. The host eating first indicates it is safe and good to eat. What kind of message would it send, he asked laughing, if I served you food and then didn't take a bite to show you it was good? This cultural etiquette was behind his shock that the priest in our seminary chapel doesn't always take the communion first before serving it to the congregation.

From my view, the priest that does serve herself first is suspect. It smacks of clericalism. Wait, watch me while I eat this. I did this important thing; and now I will eat this important thing.

I'm going to take the cynical view that everything you do in Episcopal worship is going to piss someone off. Hold on, there. Am I projecting? :)

These Dreams of You

2006-02-28T08:04:00.000-08:00

Seminary Dreams: A Snapshot of My Utter Confusion and Overload

Last night I needed a change in study position, so I sprawled out across the couch on my stomach with Ehrman's New Testament on my left and my computer on my right. I got part way through the discussion of the comparitive method before I started to notice that Ehrman was sounding a lot like my pastoral theology class I'd just been in a few hours ealier. Really, he was mentioning it was important to know when to refer texts to others, rather than get in over your exegetical head.

Then he moved into historical Christian worship. He explained that in the New Testament, chalices and cruets were divided into different Gospels so that each one could chart the progression of different eucharistic vessels. A Frankish noble showed up (in full armor mind you) to tell me about how the Fourth Lateran Council was harmful to those who were expecting to infuse their Christianity with their baby-eating. Who were they to judge? And by the way, Ehrman pointed out, Anselm had never read the Gospel of Matthew, so he didn't know that the sacrificial atonement thing would have been fine for the non-Isrealite Christians of the 11th century. Everyone can get into the sacrifical atonement, even Karl Barth. And he glared at me! There was an unidentified woman there who warned me not to question the ritual killing of Christians by medieval Jews because Luke and Mark had predicted it in code in their Gospels, and I knew then I was going to have to ask Loius Weil if that was right in our next class. But wait! Where am I doing field education????!!!!

And then I woke up. Really, these seminary classes are trying their damnedest to integrate themselves inside my head, but every so often there is a processing jam, and I end up wondering if Luke's gospel is related to Rahner's Anonymous Christianity, or spending 20 minutes trying to remember what the F pyx are. C'est la seminarie vie.

It makes for great dreams, though.

modern monks

2006-02-26T14:42:00.000-08:00

Remember the awesome 70's videos in your freshman religious studies class where the young tibetan boy wants to become a monk so he goes and camps out at the monastery front door, knocking and being refused, knocking and being refused, knocking and being refused? Finally, eventually, they let him in. Fast-forward-future -- he's indistinguishable from the rest, bowing and muching rice in time with the rest of the saffron colored crowd. For the cynical seminarian, this tidy arrangement probably sounds dangerously tempting.

Looking ahead to my field education year here at ye olde seminarrie, I've been church-hopping with the rest of the froshes ( read: juniors. At seminary we can't be freshmen, we are juniors, then middlers, then seniors. This is in line with the dining hall that can't be a dining hall, but rawther a refectory, daaahhhhling ). Since I've done time with the Anglo-Catholics, the charismatics, and the evangelicals, the biggies and the littlies, for richer and for poorer, the about-to-dies and the up-and-comings, I've been thinking, what am I looking for in field-ed? The answer that's come to me is anything-but-white. Anything but another sea of caucasian faces. So, I head up to St. Augustine's -- where their mission is to reach the people of the African Diaspora. They're in a clergy hunt, so a no-go. Then a Chinese congregation where the financial crisis lecture dominated the bulletin, the sermon, and the announcements, and none of the 6 other people there had much to say to me. Today was a lot better, but they weren't hip to the field ed idea. They were the most welcoming church I've been to so far in the Bay Area though. I ended up having bbq pork danish for breakfast with them and rice, broccoli, chicken, egg lunch with them and two services! Word is there are some seminarians at another Chinese church out west, so I guess I'm going to knock again on the door of the non-whites next Sunday. I wonder what the magic Bay Area number of knocks is?

Another brand of modern monks on my radar is this new monasticism thing. It has gripped a couple of Matt's old evangelical homies into living communally in urban areas and working on social welfare. Some of these former suburbanite princes are self-avowed pacifists! A couple things for devotional pondering on these dudes, though: why are they pretending to be apolitical if they are also proudly claiming pacifism and challenging corporate domination? And why monks - isn't that a dude-only word? Is the evangelical patriarchy even harder to shake than its sacred cow of capitalism?

I gotta say it: God is like pajama pants - always even better than I remembered.

He spoke with such authority

2006-02-21T08:50:00.000-08:00

The diocese of California announced its slate of nominees for their next bishop yesterday. Two of the five are gay. Of course, everyone has an opinion. Titusonenine declares that the Anglican Communion has not yet been persuaded that this is an OK move for the Diocese of California to make. Furthermore, scripture doesn't permit this sort of thing.

Integrity released their own report, praising the slate for its diversity and reminding readers not to be threatened by those who warn against disobeying the Windsor Report, because it is a set of recommendations without biding authority. In the end, God is our authority, they say.

Matthew 22: 15 Then the Pharisees went out and laid plans to trap him in his words. 16 They sent their disciples to him along with the Herodians. "Teacher," they said, "we know you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren't swayed by men, because you pay no attention to who they are. 17 Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?"18 But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, "You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? 19 Show me the coin used for paying the tax." They brought him a denarius, 20and he asked them, "Whose portrait is this? And whose inscription?"21 "Caesar's," they replied. Then he said to them, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's."22 When they heard this, they were amazed. So they left him and went away.

Mark 1:21 They went to Capernaum, and when the Sabbath came, Jesus went into the synagogue and began to teach. 22 The people were amazed at his teaching, because he taught them as one who had authority, not as the teachers of the law.

What's backing you up when you speak? When you make your claims, especially your controversial ones, who are you counting on for teammates? Are they always the same, or do different controversies call for different authorities? In the end, how close do you feel to the authorities you invoke? How close do you think they feel to you?

In being a recently married person, authority comes up for me a lot. Why was I convinced that Christmas is for family, and that every Christmas must be full of traditions? On what authority do I know when is a good time to answer the phone and when is not? Heck, why do I insist that we flour sack towels are for dishes only and terry cloth towels for clean hands only? Things that were once normal or now up for debate. i like it and hate it, but I've learned to ask myself how I know something. And I've learned to be aware of how sensitive I am when certain authorities are called into questions, and where that sensitivity comes from.

The vows I plan to take as a priest are seconday to the vows I take to God. If I think the Church contradicts God, I've had enough Christian history to know that God is not the Church, and I will then be there with God, my conscience, and my trust in God and God's will is completely exposed. How is this different than the vow I take to my own conscience? God isn't my conscience either; I've lived long enough to know that. God, a conscience, and a Church do not a Trinity make.

In the end, the most persuasive arguments steer the Church's course. Who speaks with more authority? If the Holy Spirit isn't majority rule, what does General Convention tell us? Even more broadly, who speaks with most authority in my own life, and how do I live it out?

Sunday's Friday Five Part Deux

2006-02-19T14:23:00.000-08:00

Winter Olympics Friday Five

1) Which of the Winter Olympic sports is your favorite to watch?
--figure skating? the last ones i saw were when i was little.

2) Do you speak Snowboardese?
--I speak cute-guy-ease...does that count?

3) Define Nordic Combined. Don't look it up. Take a guess if you must.
--grudgingly getting on the nordic track while watching the toned muscles of olympiads scurry around.

4) Curling. Please discuss.
--I'm too busy straightening to curl right now. plase call back later.

5) If you could be a Winter Olympics Champion just by wishing for it, which sport would you choose for winning your Gold Medal?
--hockey - but only if i can play like the boys play.

Sunday's Friday Five

2006-02-13T00:43:00.000-08:00

1. How do you say goodbye to someone you will see again soon?
"talktoyousoon" (*wave, grin*)

2. What is your favorite foreign word for "goodbye?"
ciao

(OR... does "later-dude" count?)

3. Have you ever planned a special farewell for someone, or had one planned for you?
before matt and i moved to berkely, i planned my own farewell party at my office, which turned out to be a disaster. i organized a scavenger hunt that nobody understood, with four different locales for drinks and meals that nobody stuck to, and i lost matt for about half the night and wandered around downtown Columbia looking for him until around 1 am. All this the day before we fly out of town forever. everyone else got hammered and had a great time. the one oasis was an interlude of listening to jazz and drinking sake with Walt between gigs.

4. What is the hardest goodbye you have had to say?
when my sisters came to california a week after we moved, i realized what it meant to not want to say goodbye. we did one of those really dramatic airport goodbyes where you cry and wave until they are completely through security and then you text each other until they board the plane. I know, I know.

5. What is the most romantic goodbye you have seen in a movie?
i'll probably be skewered by my sisters, but the best goodbye scene is when BB kills Bill at the end of Kill Bill 2. When she cries and explains that she's "a bad person," I know that BB loved Bill and Bill always loved/will always love BB.

And a Bonus question for Musical Theatre geeks: Which Von Trapp child would you like to be in "So Long, Farewell?"
My childhood in a nutshell:

"I'd like/
to stay/
and taste my first champagne/...
...Yes???"

"NO!"

*frowns, leaves*

Eucharist Shmoocharist, Baptism Shmaptism

2006-02-12T23:43:00.000-08:00

OK, I get it. So, the reason nobody wants to change the way we worship is because the way we worship is kind of old. I mean, by that, about 1600 years or so. I mean, I guess its KIND OF a long tradition.

OK, I get it. If I want to change the way we worship at the seminary I should take advantage of the full breadth of worshiping experiences available at CDSP. Tonight I went to our weekly Taize hosted by a student. It was beautiful. The chapel was completely dark, and candles lit our way to a circle of chairs. It was a delicious 20 minutes of silent meditation between two slices of chanty bread, slathered with group prayer and psalms. I get it. If I want variety, I should partake of the variety that's already ready already.

In other news, Dick Cheney shot someone.

Amnesia for Anamnesis

2006-02-11T10:37:00.000-08:00

Anamnesis. The memorial prayer of remembrance recalls for the worshiping community past events in their tradition of faith that are formative for their identity and self-understanding. The prayers of anamnesis in the various eucharistic prayers emphasize and make present the saving events of jesus' death and resurrection.

Epiclesis. The invocation of the active presence of the Holy Spirit in the eucharistic prayer so that the bread and wine may become the body and blood of Christ. The presider at the eucharist may extend his/her hands over the gifts at the epiclesis. The term is based on the Greek word that means "to call upon" "to invoke." The epiclesis typically follows the institution narrative, but it precedes the institution narrative in Eucharistic Prayer C (Book of Common Prayer page 371). The Roman Mass did not have an explicit epiclesis, although reform movements have added it. Thomas Cranmer placed the eiclesis prior to the institution narrative in the 1549 Prayer Book, but he replaced it with a rpayer for worthy reception of communion in the 1552 Book of Common Prayer. The epiclesis was not reintroduced in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. Scottish reformers restored the epiclesis, and the Scottish Book of the 1637 included the petition that God the Father would "vouchsafe to bless and sanctify with thy word and Holy Spirit these thy gifts and creatures of bread and wine, that they may be unto us the body and blood of they most dearly beloved Son..." The Episcopal Church followed the Scottish rather thant he English model with respect to the epiclesis. An epiclesis in some form has been included in the eucharistic prayers of the Episcopal Church since the 1789 Book of Common Prayer. The epiclesis in Rite 1 of the Book of Common Prayer is substantially the same as that in the 1789 Book of Common Prayer.

RRRRRRRRRRRiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Anamnesis and Epiclesis: "God, we won't forget how you got us here if you'll help us believe what we're doing is meaningful."

Just because I said so...

2006-02-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

Dispensation: (1) The exceptional relaxation of a church law or penalty by the canonical authority owing to the needs of a special case or occasion. The dispensation must be for good cause. The church law remains valid despite the dispensation, but it is not applied to the case of situation specified by the dispensation. Members of the church not included in the dispensation continue to be bound by the church law as they were before the dispensation. The church can only dispense its own laws, not natural or divine law. Dispensations have often concerned the church's requirements concerning ordination, marriage, religious vows, and disciplines such as fasting. (2) The term "dispensation" may also refer to systems or periods of time that are relevant for salvation. The New and Old Covenant may be referred to as the New and Old Dispensations. Dispensationalism refers to a system of biblical interpreations which identifies seven periods or eras of Go'd relationship with humanity. These dispensations extend from the time of Innocence in the Garden of Eden to the coming of the Kingdom, the time when God's promises are fulfilled with Christ as King. The term "dispensation" may also refer general to the divine ordering of worldly affairs or a divinely religious system or code of commands.

In other words, dispensation gives Church authorities more authority beyond what they already have.

I've been granted a few dispensations in my own day. I've been allowed to wiggle through different requirements in order to make my own set timeline. What should my response to these allowances be? To whom do I owe gratitude? Most importantly, who is not being granted dispensations and why?

In church history, I see that I am, as a receptor of dispensations, a part of a sticky group of the rich whose privelege got them out of penance, punishment, and made them outside the system to which everyone else was (sometimes unmercifully) bound.

My primary question, though, is liturgical (for I'm a good Episcopalian). Who has the authority to grant dispensation in worship? I'm asking for the official answer, as I'm usually happy to take or grant any dispensation in worship that's suggested. Still, though, who can say? We have that chunky Book of Common Prayer with all its rules and regulations, doctrinal and liturgical and temporal -- but we often grant dispensations from the text. Sometimes here in seminary, these dispensations are nauseatingly exciting for some (giggles, and nods, and grins about omitting the Creed), and then there are other times when it is clearly inappropriate to deviate from the norm. These times are marked by the exchange of knowing glares and frowns and the embarrassment of others. The environment itself is the only authority i can distinguish at these times, though. Is it traceable to one person? to a group of people? To a past precedent?

When I'm out there, calling the worship shots, upon whom and what will I draw to make a case for dispensation in liturgy and worship? I'm no slave to the BCP, but the reality is many out there keep their rituals so tight as though it ensured the divinity of Jesus Christ. How to facilitate this conversation, if no similar conversation is taking place here?

Zinnhead Priest

2006-01-15T11:16:00.000-08:00

I've realized that the worst thing that the establishment of the Churches could do would be to send me to seminary. In sending me to seminary they set aside time for me to learn the history of the Churches, how beliefs were established and solidified, and where the power was and the relationship between power and orthodoxy.

They have helped me set aside time to learn that I am bound to those who differ from me. That those who claim all the answers need sisters and brothers who don't employ that kind of absurdity. That the establishment requires some kind of anti-establishment within it to keep it honest. That there are people waiting outside the doors to hear something compassionate from the pews, and waiting to see if the people will ever leave the pews and speak peace outside coffee hour. That I won't leave the Churches if I'm condemned as "un-orthodox," because that only means they are trying to convince me that I have no power. I don't believe them. I know that I am bound to the Churches, and to Christ, and to identifying the kingdom the way Christ did.

I can't be quieted with the threat of un-orthodoxy anymore. I can't be shamed by the father-figures of the Churches that they know best, that they own orthodoxy, that they own history. I won't be intimidated by those who complain about female priests as too affirming, too compassionate, too open, too feminine. I will continue to question white priests of black congregations. I will continue to challenge who is allowed to bless, and who defines a curse. I will not stop shuddering at patronizing sermons about poverty, racism, and "women's ministry."

The establishment has sent me to seminary and put me in touch with resources about oppression of all kinds, within and outside the Churches. And they've raised me up to question and challenge them, and call them on their patriarchy, classism, and racism, wherever I see it, whether in their stewardship campaigns, at their altars, in their classrooms, or how they meet for Conventions. What are the Churches preparing its members to do? This is why some of the Churches are emptying -- because they have not convinced them there is anything to worry about. The Churches that are filling persuade their members that safety, morality, and orthodoxy are all under fire. They are rightly scared that they do not own safety, morality, and orthodoxy anymore. Their soldiers will someday be forced to discover that their war is in vain, because poverty is moral, human rights are moral, lynchings are moral, oil spills and mining accidents are moral, and their views are so narrow they will self-destruct. Orthodoxy is about power. Justice is about Christ.

Are You Being Served? (Are You Being Watched?)

2006-01-13T13:54:00.000-08:00

Grades for my first seminary semester are out. I've been evaluated based on my work for these academic classes and my participation within them. What I have to show for my first semester of seminary is the same as what I had to show for my first semester of undergraduate work: four little letters.

Quickly I arrive at my own internal question: What processes of evaluation serve us, and which ones oppress us? My first semester of seminary was NOTHING like my first semester at ol' KU. There I was an over-confident, over-privileged suburban brat with holes in my jeans and a poster of Janis Joplin on my closet door. I mostly went to class, and did all the work required of me, but I never spent time reflecting on what I was learning. I didn't digest any of it beyond what I needed to write a clever essay on the material, and move on to the next one. I worked more than I went to school and spent it all without really planning, often not having enough even with what my benevolent parents gave me every month.

Seminary has been different. Putting myself through school and working our way through our savings is, of course, soberly motivating. I have spent much more time integrating the class work with my personal belief system, with my own personal headtrip psychological theological neurosis. I actually pulled aside classmates to work through concepts and historical lessons, and I started my papers long before they were due. The time beteween undergraduate and seminary was a short two years, but put quite a distance between the girl who finished her second red stripe at the pizza joint she worked at each night and smoked American Spirits until 3 in the morning ot finish her Greek homework and this person I am trying to be now, who does all (okay, most, and more most than ever before) her reading, writes all her papers early and edits them, and makes time to journal (electronic and paper, where the really juicy stuff is) and talks to her professors outside of class instead of ducking because I've skipped the last three classes to finish somebody else's assignments.

But the grades are the same. The same letters, and probably few people see the incredible difference between my work then and my work now, but it's a lot harder now. Now I can't write something unless I reasoned my way to it first, and made sure that's what I want to say before I say it. Now I go back and read the damned theology instead of quote-hunting to fit my thesis.

Those that took the General Ordination Exams for the Episcopal Church had many conversations about their experience, and I was particularly interested to hear their anticipation of how they would be graded. Some presumed to know the biases of the graders, and how their answers would be interpreted. The evaluation, then, had become key to the answering of theological, liturgical, historical (and so forth) questions. One of my professors told me yesterday he has to write a reflection on each student for each semester once classes are finished. At a round-table discussion this past semester, one of the faculty pointed out we are always in some state of evaluation -- by our teachers, our advisors, even our peers. We are being watched. The recruitment material at my seminary boasts "spiritual growth" as the #1 reason to attend it. "More than 75% of our recent graduates experienced strong personal growth in formation, spiritual life, trust in God, self-confidence, self-knowledge and clarity of vocational skills during their years at CDSP." How do we REALLY evaluate this kind of thing? There is a 2nd-year review here that encompasses those elements, but I can guarantee when I go through that process I'm going to be very influenced by what's going on spiritually and formationally THEN, and it will be hard to remember what was going on at the end of my first semester.

So, are we relegated to evaluate ourselves? How helpful is that? Is it our partners' jobs, or our close friends and family? They surely are affected by their own state of existence, and their own tribulations at the time. Is it my professors' jobs -?- because they don't know whether I wrote that paper in a cloud of Humboldt County weed or whether I pondered and researched and pushed the baby out. They may think they do, but my undergrad professors sure couldn't tell the difference!

How should we best evaluate ourselves? My journal chronicles many of my formational adventures, but there is some kind of law that dictates that when i need to write the most, i often write the least, and vice versa. My spiritual director? The Dean of Students? The person who makes my coffee at Brewed Awakening?

I've concluded that it is up to us to evaluate our level of emotional and spiritual health, because only we know how we have integrated academic, relational, spiritual, physical, economic, psychological, and emotional health in each stage of our lives. And learning to trust myself to evaluate myself might be the greatest challenege of all for me, who waits for the grades to tell me how I did, and longs to see those GRE scores, the essay grade, the annual job review. I don't tend to evaluate myself but only seek to please the evauators. And that's a practice whose time as come.

Monks, Fire, and No Mass Communication

2005-11-29T17:57:00.000-08:00

Tonight I cannot help but chuckle at the complete mess of the early Church. I'm knee-deep in the controversies of the 5th century now, when Popes' power is ascending, monks are cantankerous, and emperors vascillate in levels of Christian sympathy. Vandals and Goths and others attack from all sides; alliances are struck between secular and sacred powers to preserve wealth and land. Some bishops call Councils to settle any number of the myriad matters of life-or-death controversy (you know, the really important stuff, like whether Christ's two natures were eternally fused or whether he was divinity enfleshed for a time on Earth) but some of the Bishops invited can't get there in time, and it completely affects the entire outcome of negotiations. People are put on trial in their own absence, people present are condemned without being given the chance to speak for themselves. People are condemned, exiled, anathematized one year, only to be orthodox the next.

What of our own incredibly important disputes are we going to put down gleefully when the next more glamorous controversy comes along? Each of these theological distinctions has its place, but what can determine "orthodoxy" and what is worth dying for, worth being out of communion with sisters and brothers? What differences hinder corporate ability to praise the Lord, or stop me from being in love and charity with my neighbors?

I know its a simple question, and the answers abound from all perspectives. Still, since the 5th century, it seems more, not less, has become non-negotiable. Human condition or Christian curse?

The S Word

2005-11-14T20:21:00.000-08:00

I got sin coming at me from everywhere these days. Today our Anglican Tradition and Life class discussed sin and how the Church conceived of it after the Reformation, and how we conceive of it today. On the Episcopal Seminary Students listserve, we are discussing sin and what qualifies, how to rank them, which ones to really go after. Our Church History class has plowed through Augustine and Original Sin in response to Pelagianism. A classmate and I discussed the powers and principalities of Ephesians 6:2 and spiritual warfare. Our sermon at daily Eucharist today urged us to beware the Church that innoculates members with a mild form of Christianity, making them immune to the real version. This Church would avoid discussing sin as too controversial, so dangerously un-Jesus I don't know how to call it a Church. I see the Church with its inocculating needles out so often, with a Buddy-Jesus smile and a circle of hand-holding, and some sprinkled phrases about concern for the Earth, and then brunch afterwards to wash down that long drink of BS in which we all just participated.

Sin.

I return again and again to Creation Regained, the book that changed my life, and the idea that the whole Creation was good, the whole Creation fell, and the whole Creation is offered redemption through Jesus Christ. This means that every person, thing, and institution can be restored to its whole created state. This also means that every person, thing, and institution has been corrupted by sin. Everything is broke down to some degree 'round here, I reckon.

I remember that in my Commission on Ministry interview, someone shared with me that through ministry they came to know the depth of their own sinfulness. The depth of my own sinfulness? I thought as he spoke. Where did that come from? But now his words are ringing in my ears, and a healthy dose of sin-talk is right up my alley today for some reason. I found I was hungry to delve into the workings of sin in my own life and in general, and was thankful for the reminder that I am finite, I am weak, and I am incomplete. Discussing sin, confessing it, makes that reality unavoidable. I am becoming aware that in seminary the emphasis on higher learning and theological understanding can draw us away from awareness of our own sinfulness and the personal moral implications of our theology, towards a distanced, general grasp of concepts and worship full of silent theological ponderings rather than confession and absolution. Coupled with this distance is that pesky PC pressure that props us all up on a floor of eggshells in mapping out where sin is, what it covers, and the radical realization in light of pervasive sin that Jesus has the power to redeem it all. Without acknowledging the depth of my sin, what will I conceive of as the depth of my salvation?

21 Bottles of Wine on the Wall

2005-11-13T16:22:00.000-08:00

After a weekend in wine country with the folks, I am staring at the largest collection of wine ever at my disposal. I pray that my life will not necessitate hasty consumption.

I have more people in my life than ever before who hold completely different convictions than I. My father and I got through about 4 hours without starting in on politics. It was a great discussion, though, and we agreed wholeheartedly that the answer to frustrations with the right or left is to keep them as close as possible. In holding ongoing conversations with secular and religious conservatives, I am forced to reconcile opposing ideas without caricature or dismissal. This seems the only answer to moving forward, whether in the Church or in the secular world.

It is so easy to dismiss opposing views in the short run, but devastating in the long run. Each passing comment ("The revisionists don't believe in scripture" "Feminists are destroying the Church" "Conservatives are such bigots") puts us farther from true community with those whom we don't understand. I know for myself if I am not in relationship with friends from conservative seminaries and Republicans, I am doomed to miss something important they have to say.

In holding out this possibility, though, I get it from the right and the left. Fraternizing with the enemy will get you nowhere but frustrated, I hear all the time around here. The discussions I have with people who think women should not be ordained, that being gay is sinful, or that George Bush has the interest of the American people at heart; these are not easy conversations and often bring me much frustration. So, while stretching myself to explain more than once the difference between "feminine" and "feminist," and while getting criticism for "wasting my time doing it," I am growing all the while. It isn't easy, though, and I'm thankful to a handful who don't give me jaw-drop looks but instead share stories of navigating they did in relationship with those who thought differently than they did.

I don't think M. and I are too much at risk for getting out of touch because our families tow the red state line daily. We love them and don't think they're stupid. We think they are older than us, wiser, and with much to offer. Thankfully, they don't think we're stupid either! So, the conversations are hard and have to be entered into prayerfully and with the intention of mutual encouragement. The only models out there are full of bitterness and no generosity of spirit. Committing to these relationships is difficult but life-giving.

Starting with Advent I'm following the New Zealand prayer book for a year for private devotions. The prayers are beautiful and a refreshing change of language. Get your hands on some of it if you haven't seen it before.

Light the Fire

2005-11-10T00:28:00.000-08:00

A true friend reminded me tonight that people have no reason to fight for a cause if they haven't experienced the accompanying injustice. If you look around the room and you see that racial minorities are missing or silenced, that's the fire lit under ya. If you look around the room and you see that women are missing or silenced, that's another fire. We will see different discrepancies, thank God. The problem comes when we automatically prioritize our observations over others'. In other words, if I was a feminist trying to work up some passion for the cause, it would be the ultimate activist party fowl to expect others to drop their passion for minority involvement.

And so it is with the Church.

Some people here have no fire under them about the way we worship. Some came to the tradition after years of searching and found comfort and peace in the rituals. Some have only known this style of worship and everything else feels downright sacriligious. Some just go along their merry way whistling "All Glory Laud and Honor" and haven't seen any reason for something to change.

This is not me.

There is a fire lit under me, and somebody keeps dumping kerosene on it. This worship feels stale to all my friends and family who aren't self-identified Episcopalians. My friends have no good reason to walk in on a chapel service and experience something. In Anglican Tradition on Monday, we talked about defining ourselves historically as "not X, not Y" rather than as "clearly Z" and this leaving us with an identity that changes as the culture changes. We know we're not "fundamentalist," we're not "evangelical," and we certainly don't "get saved." Beyond this, things seem open for discussion. Our boundaries are negative, rather than positive. People join up because they got burned by the groups we have defined ourselves against. We're the Other Team.

I daresay our Church will die with its aging baby boomers if we don't confront:

- worship that engages the unchurched
- community that defines itself positively rather than negatively

And I daresay I'm not going down with the ship.

Real Presence: The presence of Christ in the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. THe 1991 statement of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission notes, "The elements are not mere signs; Christ's body and blood become really present and are really given. But they are really present and given in order that, receiving them, believers may be united in communion with Christ the Lord." A classic Anglican statement attributed to John Donne (or to Queen Elizabeth I) and included in The Hymnal 1982 (Hymn 322) is "He was the Word that spake it, he took the bread and brake it, and what the Word did made, I do believe and take it." In Eucharistic Prayer A of Rite 2, the celebrant prays the God the Father will sanctify the gifts of bread and wine "by your Holy Spirit to be for your people the Body and Blood of your Son, the holy food and drink of new and unending life in him" (BCP p 363). The Catechism notes that the inward and spiritual grace in the eucharist is "the Body and Blood of Christ given to his people and received by faith" (BCP 859). Belief in the real presence does not imply a claim to know how Christ is present in the eucharistic elements. Belief in the real presence does not imply belief that the consecrated eucharistic elements cease to be bread and wine.

Sorry, Charlie. You're NOT my Patron Saint.

2005-11-01T17:02:00.000-08:00

Why does the patron saint of seminarians have to be...................this guy?

I mean, I was hoping for something a little more spicy. Somebody who was discouraged about the establishment they were wedding themselves to, somebody who turned over the altar in the chapel because it was taken too seriously, somebody who stood up in class and shouted about the elephants in the room (of which, even in the 1500's, there must have been a few). I was biting my nails looking up the patron saint of seminarians. I thought for sure it would be some woman who dressed up like a man and made it through the first 6 years before she was uncovered and expelled. Or someone who got all F's all through their first two years and then discovered their niche and triumphed over academia. Heck, I would even take someone who lobbied for better food in their flippin' dining hall. But no, it is this guy, with this schnoz, and this red yarmulke. Great. Love the collar.

Alas, it is this guy.

Charles Borromeo is about the worst patron saint of seminarians I can think of. Hopelessly of-the-establishment, son of a Medici, nephew of a Pope. Among the other really boring things he did, he helped open some seminaries. Wave your Charlie Borromeo flag, everyone, Woo Hoo for Charlie and his seminary-opening magnificence.

It's just not right.

Our procession in with the icons today at our seminary eucharist was great. The incense smelled good, the music was familiar, and the projector ran all kinds of a goodies in the form of icons and photos of saints, canonized and otherwise. I wanted to flip Athanasius off when his picture came up but I just looked at the floor instead. And I heard a sermon that made me weep, and caused me to drag up images in my mind of the saints of my life. So, I've got some icons of my own. And don't worry your pretty little head, I'm working on a new patron saint of seminarians. So, when Charlie's Day rolls around (NOVEMBER 4th) I will have a substitute waiting to crash his party.

Bobby Dylan: In my life, Bob Dylan is the Patron Saint of Big Dreams and Changing Times. He was a herald of what was coming, in music, in politics, and among the people. Patron saint of all places reminiscent of Greenwich Village.

SC, my Patron Saint of Confidence. My former college roommate has lived on three continents, and currently runs a medical clinic for ex-pats and natives in Shanghai. She has a masters from a French university. She is not intimidated by much at all, and is willing to try anything. She is positive and bright, and determined and hilarious. I will always think of her when I feel like I cannot accomplish something.

MJK - my patron saint of the Teachable Spirit. This woman is beautiful, sensible, and strong, but she is also curious and sensitive, and tries her very hardest to work, play, and live to the best of her ability. She always asks questions at the heart of the matter, and is just about the funniest person you'll meet. A truly inspirational person.

There are endless saints in my saint box. Who is in yours?

Trick or Teat!

2005-10-30T19:31:00.000-08:00

Reading Weak (sic)

2005-10-30T18:17:00.000-08:00

As Reading Week draws to a close, I am tying up all the loose school ends before classes start tomorrow.

This morning I attended an Episcopal church in Berkeley that regularly uses the 1928 Prayer Book. Now, we revised in 1979, so the use of it is particularly stunning. Since my grandfather left after the revision and started his own church, I heard 1928 with some regularity until he died a few years ago.

But you gotta love some of that old stuff in there. I mean,

The Churching of Women?!?!?!?!: A Liturgy for the purification or "churching" of women after childbirth, together with the presentation in church of the child. The rite is based on scriptural sources, especially the ritual purification of Mary and Presentation of Christ in Luke 2:22-38. Following the title in the Sarum use, Cranmer called the 1549 rite "The Order of the Purification of Women." In 1552 and later it became "The Thanksgiving of Women after Childbirth," commonly called the "Churching of Women." The 1979 Prayer Book, avoiding any hint of ritual impurity, replaces the older rite with "A Thanksgiving for the Birth of Adoption of a Child." The rite is to take place within the Sunday liturgy, after the intercessions, soon after the birth or adoption. In this service, parents and other family members come to the Church with the newly born or adiopted child "to be welcomed by the congregation and to give thanks to Almighty God" (BCP 439).

Let me tell you; it don't sound so sweet when you read it from the '28 book.

What I'm reading: Evangelical Feminism by Pamela D.H. Cochran. It is really moving me forward in thinking about a possible thesis dealing with spiritual vs. structural authority within the Churches, and wanting to get the word out that evangelical communities have more variation in theology than most mainline Protestants acknowledge.

Fundamental Problem

2005-10-25T07:54:00.000-07:00

It's not going to be popular, but I've a beef with y'all thinking Fundamentalists and Evangelicals are the same thing, and the arrogrant dismissal of this vibrant and rapidly growing segment of American Christianity. If you think you might have made this mistake, gather 'round for a history lesson and some soapboxin'.

At the time of World War II, we could probably suffice it to say that there existed one mega-group: Fundamentalist-Evangelicals. After World War II, Higher Criticism spread through theological scholarship. The young'ns of the FE tradition (Jim Wallis and friends) wanted to get their hands on it, but the older generation (Charles Fuller and friends) didn't budge from their traditional curriculum. Eventually, an unofficial split occurred - the young generation, sometimes called Progressive Evangelicals, sought their higher degrees from conservative mainline denominations and returned to their tradition forever changed. There are many sources available that shed light on the struggle of the early 1970's between these two groups, mostly convention records and scholarly articles.

One big result of this split was that we got some terms redefined. Whereas for the more traditional lot, "biblical inerrancy" covered historical truth and a lack of attention to cultural constraints upon biblical writers, the new "biblical inerrancy" of the progressive evangelicals, was something different. To them it meant that the bible was still the highest authority, but there were more nuances in what truth it covered. You can guess what these were. They still used the word "inerrancy," but it meant something markedly different than the earlier definition. You can still see this today.

Another result (this one is important for all those weilding the word "fundamentalist") is that people like my husband, raised Evangelical Free, do not respond to or identify with the word "fundamentalist." My theory is that this is a direct result of the leaders of the 1970's who wanted to distinguish themselves from their forbears and did so by relaying a strong distinction between the two terms. Whether you think there is a clear distinction or not, we should acknowledge that the community we're attempting to describe sees one. If you want to talk about someone, make sure to get their name right.

I've been getting irked because around here, "fundamentalist" is a synonym for "conservative and religious." This may be the result of complex circumstances, but I doubt it. I think it is plain old ignorance or belittling of the "other."

I have my own issues with the conservative theologies of my husband's tradition and others I would call "Evangelical," but I know that in order to communicate my problems to them, I have to understand them on their own terms. Ever been called a relativist? a revisionist? a whiny liberal? Didn't really make you want to enter into dialogue, did it? I pick up on a lot of intolerance within the Episcopal Church for those of Evangelical persuasion, and it makes people come off hopelessly arrogant. Anyone ever peruse the Mystery Worshipper on shipoffools.com? Many of these narratives are funny, but I found the Willow Creek review typical of the arrogance I'm describing. The reviewer spends a morning at the Chicago mega-church among 3,000 attendees and reflects: "These folks came to a show. As I said, we didn't sing, we didn't confess or profess anything, no prayer, no interaction, nada. Before you point out to me that something must be good about Willow Creek since their services are so well attended, I admit I don't understand what the vast numbers are getting out of all this." The reviewer rates the experience as a "1" out of 10 and goes on to lament the coffee for purchase, the lack of liturgy, and the lack of racial diversity.

There were 3,000 people there! Since this review they have moved into an 8,000 person auditorium. I know you may think, I don't care if there were 80,000 people there, it's not for me. Believe me, I understand. But I think there is something ridiculous about walking into this place and not trying to learn something. This is the attitude I get a lot. There are all these complaints: our churches are empty, our churches are too white, our churches are boring, our churches don't have good youth ministry, our churches don't have good singles ministry. Our churches won't grow. But then we walk into huge churches with vibrant life and activities for all ages, and we don't stop and wonder what they have to teach us.

If we keep dismissing things that don't look like us, we're going to keep looking like us and never change. If worship is what we do as Episcopalians, if that is what we offer rather than easy theology or rigid doctrine, than our worship needs to start speaking to the actual population. Until then, it's gonna be you and me who dig Rite II and our grandparents. When they die, then what? I have issues with Willow Creek's position on homosexuality, but there are some things that really peek my interest: their leadership conferences are attended nation-wide by satellite and they include both secular and religious leadership figures in their training. They ordain women and give them full inclusion within Church life. Not to mention their churches are FULL.

I do not wish to advocate jumping on the mega-church bandwagon. I do not wish to advocate conservative theology. But I want people to know Jesus. My life is better because I do, and I think some others out there could really gain some hope for truth, justice, peace, and a way of life. I think we are willfully blind if we refuse to learn from those who believe something differently than we do. Conservatives don't have to be the only ones with full churches of eager Christians. If you believe that, what does that say about your own theology?

*dismounts soapbox, stares into space*

The Angels Visited the Farm Workers

2005-10-23T16:11:00.000-07:00

Pretend someone on the street stops you, says they are a BIG fan of yours because they saw you do the thing in your life you are most proud of. You are flattered and find you have a few minutes to chat with this person. Then this person asks you to list your top 5 good qualities. What are they?

Then, once you've listed them and you two are standing there smiling at each other, this person asks you to relate your shining qualities to the war in Iraq.

How do you feel? Do you have an answer prepared - have you ever thought about it?

Last night I went to the presentation of the first Non-violence award to Dolores Huerta, cofounder of the United Farm Workers movement, friend of Cesar Chavez. There to interview her for the award was Amy Goodman of Democracy Now, nothing short of the rock star of independent media and a brilliant journalist. I sat in a great church in Oakland, was warmly welcomed by a great pastor, and grinned at my privilege to observe the conversation between these two women.

In all of Amy's interviews she asks the person to relate their claim to fame to the current war in Iraq. I love this part.

Dolores said that her involvement with growers and migrant workers always involved getting the growers to see their laborers as human beings. Many times the first big victory with growers and owners was to get them to provide toilets in the fields for their workers to use. What person do you know who doesn't need a toilet? It is this, she said, that she can relate to the war in Iraq. We do not see those we bomb as people, at least not the kind of people we are. They must be something less than us; otherwise, how could we bomb them? Would we bomb our grandmothers or our children? She put it another way when she said, I doubt we'd put bombs in Afghanistan and Iraq if the people were white.

Though it was Amy and her stardom that took me there, it was the pastor who left the most lasting impression on me. She reminded us that the angels went first to farm workers tell the news that the savior was born. She said that the new baby had no good housing (sleeping with livestock) and no medical care (rested in a trough). She asked that we remember that those without housing or medical care are the ones who are Christ to us in this world. When you cared for the least of these... I took those words home in my heart.

"It simply mystified most worshippers."

2005-10-21T14:11:00.000-07:00

Here in seminary world, this is an example of a recommended book. For most this little blue-and-white beauty has no meaning whatsoever, but for those of us on a road towards the other side of the altar, its food for thought. My disclaimer: some of it is boring. My exhortation: it may assist you in examining some of why you do what you do when you do the worship-thing. It is also one more step in my demystification process, and translation of Episcopalese into the vernacular. You know, the vernacular? The language people can actually understand, the language our churches fought so hard to use, and now leave at the door as they turn off their cell phones and take their last gulp of coffee. No giggling, please. We are now in the House of the Lord. Be sure to grab all 7 required worship books and the leaflet as you come in. Be sure to flip through them desperately finding your place while trying to have conversation with God. Be sure not to mess up because everyone is watching. In case you're nervous, here's what some guy says NOT to do...

Of Practices Not Recommended (page 62) :

In general, the ceremonial suggested in this book is less complex than that which became customary in many parishes over the last hundred years. Part of this is due to a deliberate simplification --in an effort to make the main lines of the liturgy stand out more clearly-- and part of it to recovery of more ancient practice, which often times amounts to the same thing.

The following practices are specifically not recommended:

a. The censing of the cross before the censing of the altar at the beginning of the liturgy, and the censing of the priest immediately after it. Instead, the oldest practice of censing the altar only is recommended.

b. The "offering" or lifting up of the bread and up by the priest at the offertory -- with or without the prayers which accompany this action in the Roman Missal. Our liturgy has recovered the tradition that it is the function of the deacon to prepare the table, and that it is the eucharistic prayer which offers the gifts to God.

c. Blessing the water to be added to the wine. This practice, which involves a "mystical" understanding of the purpose of the water, came into being after the original meaning --which was a gesture of temperance-- had been forgotten.

d. Joining the hands at every occurrence of the name of Jesus in the eucharistic prayer. The practice of bowing the head at the mention of this name does not necessitate the joining of the hands.

e. Extending, raising, and then joining the hands at the words which follow the Sanctus and Benedictus. This gesture dates from a period when the canon or eucharistic prayer was considered to begin at this point, and was deliberate attempt to indicate a new beginning. Today we have again learned that the prayer begins with the Sursum corda and preface.

f. Elevating the bread and cup after the words of institution.

g. The use of multiple signs of the cross during the eucharistic prayer.

h. Placing a small amount of the consecrated bread in the chalice (the "commixture"). Though retained in the Roman rite, its meaning is not self-evident, and can be explained in several ways. It simply mystified most worshippers.

i. Making the sign of the cross over the communicants with the consecrated bread before putting it in their hands.

j. Making the sign of the cross at the end of the Gloria in excelsis and of the creed, and at the words, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." Unlike the sign of the cross at the beginning of the liturgy, and at certain other points, where it helps to explicate what is done and said, these three began as popular devotions. While there can be no objection to individuals crossing themselves when devotion prompts, the invariable use of these three by all present in the chancel suggests that they are required.
There is, however, more to be said about the use of the cross at "Blessed is he." The Sanctus (with Benedictus) is a part of virtually all Christian liturgies, both eastern and western. In no liturgy, save that of Rome from the 11th century, was a sign of the cross prescribed at this point. The reason for it, Roman scholars have determined, lies somewhere between superstitious fear in the face of Christ's presence under the forms of bread and wine and an outright misinterpretation of the text, the word "blessed" being applied to the worshippers rather than to Christ. The Roman rite has therefore dropped the signing at this point. It is suggested that Episcopalians do the same.

k. The wearing of a biretta during any part of the liturgy, including outdoor processions.

l. "Co-presiding" at the liturgy. This is a recently introduced practice, in which the presedential functions are alternated between two priests in such a manner as to allow each to proclaim an approximate equal amount of the liturgical text. Behind the practice one suspects a lingering medieval notion that a priest cannot be said to participate in a liturgy as a priest without being given words to say.
It should be noted that neither the rubrics (guidelines) of the Prayer Book nor the historic tradition of the church know anything of such a practice, nor do worshippers deserve to have their attention focused on guessing who is to speak next. The proper way for a second priest to participate in the liturgy as a priest is to function as a concelebrating presbyter.

These are just the opinions of the author for priests who are directing the liturgies of their parishes, but I thought they were good food for thought. Here at CDSP it is Reading Week (read: Fall Break, no classes for one week) and I am kicking it off by opening some of the books I've had to avoid the past few weeks. My favorite part of this section is: "It simply mystified most worshippers." I could use this is many worship situations in the Episcopal Church! We'll see how much I can overuse it before I'm ordained, and then how much after.

Seminary Game

2005-10-20T15:12:00.000-07:00

How many words can you make with the word SEMINARY?

mine resin yearn near year yarn ear ire
mines semi is ram say yin nay ye
sin mar rams says yarns years nays ires
men mars yearns resins rains yams siren my mire mires main mains rein reins ryes rye
Mary Sine rain same yam ran yes amen
sea in me miry a earn earns I
rinse sir rim rims aim aimer air airs
amen amens misery rise sire anise *what else you got?

(Yet) Another Word from Our Sponsors

2005-10-19T09:01:00.000-07:00

Preces: Brief responsive prayers which are often based on verses of scripture, especially the Psalter (Psalms). The Book of Common Prayer includes such versicles and responses after the Lords’ Prayer in Morning Prayer (pages 55, 97-98) and Evening Prayer (pages 67-68, 121-122), which are also known as suffrages. The Book of Common Prayer offices (Morning and Evening Prayer) also have opening preces (see S33 and S58 in Hymnal 1982).

Inside My Studio

2005-10-19T08:04:00.000-07:00

At the RevGalBlogPals site, they posted the famous questions asked on Inside the Actor's Studio. I am posting mine here. What's inside your studio?

1. What is your favorite word? “eeeeeexcellent”

2. What is your least favorite word? formation

3. What turns you on, creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Desperation and dissatisfaction transformed into innovation, networking, and justice

4. What turns you off? Knowing what a ciborium and maniple are

5. What is your favorite curse word? “I’ve-got-a-notion-to-say-pumphandle!” courtesy of my great-grandmother

6. What sound or noise do you love? Those made by the ever-talented Bobbie McFerrin

7. What sound or noise do you hate? The chewing and smacking of the open-mouth eater

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Cosmetologist, professor, writer, magazine editor

9. What profession would you not like to do? Claims adjustor, collections specialist

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? Like my Afro pick?

The Femergency Broadcast System

2005-10-16T13:28:00.000-07:00

see more at www.guerrillagirls.com

Wanna Chat?

2005-10-15T12:55:00.000-07:00

I've opened a Yahoo Group for all Episcopal Seminary Students who'd like a network for swapping resources, having discussions, and generally be connected to one another. I'm hoping that through this Group I can understand how my seminary experience is different from those across the country, for better or worse. I emailed contact people at each seminary and Yale and Harvard Divinity Schools to get the word out. And, now at 1 pm on Saturday, I am starting the weekend homework. Yikes! If you are an interested seminary student, subscribe at episcopalseminarystudents-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.

Assimilation

2005-10-14T14:51:00.000-07:00

I have come to understand in myself that when I commit to an institution, I have committed above everything to think critically about that institution, push its boundaries for weak points and strengths. I felt this way about marriage, the Church, and this nation. Before I discovered the beauty and distinct spirits of the United States, I couldn't be much more than saracastic and apathetic about it and its leaders. Oh, a sex scandal. Huh. What's on the other channel? Ooo, tsk tsk, Mr. Secretary of Yada Da, you shouldn't have dipped into that little insider trading bit. And then I read Howard Zinn, and in that tightly wrapped journal of American life, A People's History of the United States, I came to appreciate my country. Not for the reasons the establishment would have me appreciate it, but for others. And in that growing love, I came to feel very passionately about injustices committed within it, and atrocities that pass for normal life. Howard Zinn reminded me, and continues to remind me, that there is nothing more patriotic than using our civil right to speak out against tyranny. On Democracy Now today, I saw Michael Eric Dyson's stirring address at the Unvarnished Truth Awards in D.C. He pleaded that above all we take care to speak the truth in our own communities.

I've never struggled to be a company man anywhere else but in the Episcopal Church. You can find me heartily joining in the rants against the Bush administration, educational disparities in this country, the War on Drugs, the prison system, healthcare. But when my agnostic friends would start in on the church, it got a lot more nuanced, sticky even. I still believe that Jesus said the highest most important things that have been said, and that the Church can be the revolving door of response to him.

So, in light of my history of bitching about the establishment in its many forms I should have expected the onslaught of institutional criticisms I've formed since arriving here. However, despite all I learned from Zinn, my own criticisms seem to threaten my one institutional loyalty. Let the schizophrenic internal dialogue begin.

I had to come here to work through this flawed institution, because without a keener eye I would be of no help to the Church. I have so far breezed through my experiences fingering all those things which "just gotta go" -- stodgy solemn chapel, secondary reading material which would seek to glorify Anglicanism over and above whatever its stated purpose, term-dropping without definition or conscious decisions to be inclusive. In the midst of all these, though, my more tender criticism were not far behind, and now I am faced with the prospect of being knee-deep in the rubble of a deconstruction without much of any idea how I'd like to put it back together again.

I refuse to see this experience as an upgrade in my club membership, but I also refuse to see it as a four year bitch session. I remember that my loyalty to Christ is loyalty to justice, love, and mercy. I want to know how to think more distinctly about institutions, their function and potential.

I can say with safety that I am no longer a Company Man. But I am here to learn more about this company. I will not merely assimilate, but commit to interact in a meaningful way, and not lodge my frustrations that they might harden my heart, but express them that I might release them.

Sarum Rite. Liturgy based on practices at the cathedral of Salisbury, England. Sarum is the Latin name for Salisbury. The Synod of Whitby (664) decided for Roman rather than Celtic liturgical usage, but British books still contained non-Roman elements. Secular cathedrals were strengthened after the Norman Conquest, and stronger centers influenced surrounding areas. The 1549 Prayer Book mentions uses of Salisbury, Hereford, Bangor, York, and Lincoln. These were not different rites but variations in words or actions or placement within the Roman rite. Consuetudinarium, or the book of customs, of Salisbury was earlier attributed to Osmud, Bishop of Sarum, 1078-1099, and founder of the cathedral at Old Sarum. The Salisbury use was therefore called Sarum Rite. It is now associated with Richard le Poore, bishop 1217-1228, who moved the see to Salisbury and initiated construction of a new cathedral. Later books (Ordinal, Customary, and "New" Ordinal) gave greater definition to the use. Because of the convenience of these books and the reputation of Salisbury as a model, this use spread over much of the British Isles. In March 1543 the Salisbury Breviary was imposed upon the whole Province of Canterbury. It is generally the use of Salisbury that is the source of medieval materials retained in the 1549 Book of Common Prayer.

Welcome to the Clubhouse

2005-10-13T14:15:00.000-07:00

My Episcopal Dictionary arrived today. With this book, I begin my own (public) demystification process. Behold, the clubhouse leaks its secret code into cyberspace through this tiny sieve.

Ready? Go.

1. Host (Eucharistic): The consecrated bread of the eucharist. The term is from the Latin hostia, "victim." Use of the term reflects an undertanding of the eucharist in the sacrificial terms relative to Christ's death on the cross. The term is also extended to mean the bread or wafers to be consecrated at the eucharist. The individual wafers of the eucharist may be referred to as "hosts." Many parishes use a large host that is broken by the celebrant at the fraction. This "Priest's Host" may be decorated with Christian symbols that are pressed into the large wafer. It is typically placed on the paten prior to the service when the chalice is vested. The smaller "hosts" that will be distributed to the people are placed in a ciborium and placed on the paten with the "Priest's Host" when the altar is prepared before the Great Thanksgiving at the eucharist.

From that definition alone, I must include some follow-up definitions:
2. fraction --> Fraction Anthem: The anthem at the fraction, sometimes called the confractorium, a term borrowed from the Ambrosian rite. The BCP prints two anthem but permits others. Rite 1 prints both Pascha nostrum (Christ our Passover) (adapted from a similar anthem in the 1549 Prayer Book) and Agnus Dei (O Lamb of God). It allows either of both or another suitable tanthem. Rite 2 prints only "Christ our Passover" (BCP p364). Another suitable anthem may be used in place of or in addition to the printed one. The Book of Occasional Services gives fifteen anthems for various seasons and occasions. Several fo these anthems are set to tmusic in responsiviely or in unison. In many places the choir or a cantor sings the anthem, sometimes responsively with the people, while the presider breaks the bread.

3. ciborium: (1) a container or box with a lid for eucharistic wafer bread. It is usually of silver or another precious metal. THe ciborium, which may resemble a chalice or cup, has been used instead of the plate-like paten for the administration of the consecrated bread at the eucharist. Unfortunately, the chalice-like ciborium was lacking in symbolic relation to the bread, and the character of teh eucharist as meal was obscured. The ciborium is not more typically used as a container for bread wafers that will be consecrated at the eucharist. It may be one of the vessels placed on teh credence table for use in the service. A ciborium may be used when teh people's offerings of bread and wine are presented and placed on the altar prior ot the Great Thanksgiving. A ciborium may also be used as a container for consecrated bread and placed in the tabernacle for the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament. (2)Also, a ciborium is a canopy of stone, wood, metal or fabric that is suspended over the altar. This canopy, also known as a baldachino, rests on four pillars or columns.

Passover was coming up, and his followers came up to him and asked, "What do you want us to do to get ready for it?" He said, "Go into town and tell one of the guys there that the Teacher said he's coming to your house with his friends for Passover. His time is near." So they did, and they fixed the dinner up.
When it was time to eat, they all sat down together...and while they were eating, Jesus grabbed the loaf of bread, and after blessing it, he passed it around, "Take this and take a bite. This is my body."
Then he got some wine and thanked God that they had it, and he said, "Everybody take a drink. This wine is my blood and it makes a new agreement between God and everyone. Everyone can have some so that they can be forgiven of their sins. I'm telling you, I'm not going to drink this wine anymore until we can all be together again to drink it, when things are right again."

Post Poison

2005-10-13T12:03:00.000-07:00

Venomous Venting or Healthy Processing?

Through a very helpful conversation this morning I became even more aware of the public nature of my blog for the CDSP community. My frustrations are, in theory, available for everyone in the semninary community to read.

Up until today I have regarded this is a blessing that comes with much repsonsibility. In other words, I must take good care to post what I think might be of some use to others, not direct ranting or general complaining.

"How is your semester going?" my friend asked.
"Great. I have a good outlet for dealing with the things that irk or confuse me so I can really appreciate the positive stuff."
"What's your outlet?"
"I blog," I grinned. "I can process my frustrations that way and get on with enjoying everything else."

She went on to suggest that our venting may not be healthy if we are squirting it back into the community. A private journal does not have the potential to adversely affect anyone else because it isn't being put into anyone else's psyche. A friend outside the community serves a similar healthy purpose.

Is my blog unhealthy? came the question. I cringed. I remember making the conscious decision to post frustrations and disconnects because I thought others may find commonality there and we might discover it isn't all in our heads. Neo-consciousness raising. And on a very small level, it has worked. I am in conversation with some people who've had similar reactions to the seminary experience and I'm trying to form some structures for future newbies in response to our experiences, alike and diverse.

In my opinion, there would be no point to having a blog if it didn't push some edges somewhere. I'm not on Xanga anymore, a website for what would otherwise be a mass email to friends and family: we went to church today, then out to lunch, then we gathered signatures for the kerry campaign, then we went to Kirksville for the weekend. At the same time, I don't want my frustrations to infect those who aren't frustrated.

There is a prophetic thing going on here. Not that I'm a prophet, but the sense is that someone who sees a problem risks making others as cranky as they are in the process of consciousness-raising. Maybe my fellow students would rather not hear my thoughts on the chapel experience and would rather go on their merry way enthralled with the learning curve. Am I making more of a mess than I am making connections?

I don't want to poison others with my crankiness, but I also don't want to miss an opportunity to dialogue and a convenient medium for that dialogue.

Getting In, Club Episcopal

2005-10-11T17:14:00.000-07:00

In my quest for a more helpful introduction to seminary for future students, I ordered an Episcopal Dictionary and have tucked all the good feedback I've gotten into a folder. I am thinking of taking an informal poll of students. Did you feel behind on anything when you arrived at seminary? Did you feel out of the loop in your own establishment? This kind of thing. I will post what I come up with.

My friend Stacie, currently living in Shanghai, has just left after being here for a couple days on her way back from seeing family in Kansas. It was so nice to have her all to myself for a few days after a few years of 30 minute visits over Christmas vacations. After being roommates for 2 of our college years, it finally felt like we were back in the groove. Fun to bum around the City a bit and show her Berkeley. I'm always interested in her reaction to my church stuff, but wasn't surprised at the lukewarm feelings about our Rite I eucharist she attended on campus Monday. (I was Lay Assisting for the first time.) It brings up resentments I have for a church whose language doesn't speak to my generation (somethingunderstood and others excepted).

The senior sermon today hammered this message home. The current issue of the New Yorker highlights a history of Ivy League institutions faced with unseemly student body demographics in the early 1900's. Since superior academic merit was fueling the onslaught of undesirables, the establishment altered the admission requirements (include a picture, state your race, parents' names of origin, personal essays for confirmation of character) in the quest for the ideal homogeny once again. The article, entitled "Getting In," was a brilliant picture, from our homilist's perspective, of how awful we all can be, and he pressed us to examine whether these dynamics exist within our Church. Do we like to talk about filling the Church with the non-White, non rich, non well-educated but then find ourselves too attached to the mechanisms that ensure that dynamic in the first place? We know it's bad for us, he suggested, but we seem to do it anyway. His message spoke directly to my current struggles.

It strikes me that the Emerging Church workshop has been the only thing I've encountered at CDSP so far to address this concern with vigor and a plan. In talking with some others who are interested in the Emerging Church methods and taking Kinesis' concerns quite seriously, I hope to glean from it something that both Stacie and I would see fit to do on a Sunday night.

From the inside and the outside, I am experiencing the negative potential of Club Episcopal, and prophetic voices that would see the tide turn on these dynamics. I am learning that my seminary experience is not just the accumulation of knowledge and spiritual seafaring I thought it would be. It is also a process of intense evaluation: what is working (in the Church, in the seminary, in the chapel) and what isn't?

I think the seminary environment encourages this critical posture but I am wary of its destructive potential as well. I hope that these disconnects come to electrify me and not just electrocute me, so that they can be used for good. Hopefully it is the shock needed to turn on the light.

(Dis)Orientation

2005-10-07T15:46:00.000-07:00

Some of us just walked back to our apartments from a workshop on leading the Daily Office worships here at the seminary campus. It brought a lot to my mind about my orientation experience upon arrival here this Fall. I am currently being steeped in the very dark tea called Episcopal Church Culture.

We use so many terms that are disorienting to non-Epsicopalians or to really new ones (those who haven't been Episcopalian for ten years). We dabble in the Latin and the Greek; we borrow from Eastern and Western traditions, and, if you please, we like our terms old and fussy. It gives us a certain sanctified feeling. (I should give a nod to the ancients: It isn't just old for old's sake. So much of the old has incredible value, right? For example, as the incense rises through the santuary and your prayers go up mingling with it, you are using your nose to pray as well as your lips. But this post will not be an arrangement of ancient images meant to praise the Church. I want to focus not on how orienting our culture can be, but how disorienting.)

When my fellow first year students and I arrived in Berkeley for our upper-level enculturation process to begin, none of us knew exactly what version of the culture we would receive here, or how it would complement what we brought with us. Some of us came from Emerging Churches, some of us from Anglo-Catholic parishes, and some from evangelical community churches. There is such a wide variety of backgrounds we carry, it is hard to believe we start assuming much in common at all!

And yet, I did feel throughout orientation and our first weeks of classes that I was below average in the enculturation department. I am exploring whether I was made to feel this way by those around me, or whether I put this pressure on myself. I found some of my classmates were well-versed in liturgies called the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament and could recognize a maniple if they saw one, but I sure as heck wasn't one of them. And some were unaware of the complete breadth of christological theology terms (Donatist, Montanist, Marcionist, Gnostic, Arian, Docetist, Monophysitic) floating through Christian history -- but I learned these a long time ago. In my first few worship classes I felt smacked by the Latin and Greek flying through the room without explanation or translation. Others felt completely at ease and wondered when we were going to get on with it.

How might our orientation experience reflect more deliberatley upon the complete sprawl of Episcopal knowledge represented in each incoming class, and how could we help each other learn and find needed information? Our Moving and Thriving on Holy Hill guide was helpful to enculturate to Berkeley, but what about the culture of our own Church? I find ECUSA much more complex a village! Are we unsure how to take a group of 40 students and poll what they know and don't know and point them in the right direction? Do the current students and faculty care to guide the new students (and one another) as they go? I have started imagining liturgical terms handouts in the orientation booklets, and an evening session set aside for those who've never spoken "Liturgy" in their lives. I envision more discussions initiated by instructors concerning how to articulate the history of heresy to our congregations. My model for this is my Greek instructor, who often integrates practical homiletic points and theological nuances with our text translations in a way that makes Intro to Greek a lot more than memorizing definite articles.

Something Understood pointed out simply that if you don't know something, just ask. Of course; this is not a 4 year Summer Camp where we are spoon-fed each theological bit we must digest. Yet I wonder -- what might be the pastoral posture of a seminary in these matters? In graduate studies, we acclimate to a new place and a new discipline. The classroom, to a great extant, holds the keys to the culture of the subject at hand. In seminary, though, it is a more complex assimilation of thought histories, practice histories, ethos histories, and the expectation upon us that when we depart our seminary experience, we will be the keepers of the theology, worship, and ethos for everyone else! If we think our student body experiences are broad and various, imagine our future congregations!

So, SU brilliantly suggested we compile something ourselves as a gift to the community and its future members. I feel called to contribute to this process and invite any ideas to be posted or emailed to me. For any of those in seminary or who were once in seminary, what was particularly disorienting to you? What did your seminary not explain well? What were you forced to learn on your own? I hope that out of this collaboration will come a group of happy, relaxed first year students next year. :)

My thought in motion right now is the awareness that as a cradle Epsicopalian, I did not expect to know so little about my own tradition. Others who are newer to the church than I have amassed lists of resources and teachable spirits so that when questions arise it is not an unexpected feeling -- they know what to do. I anticipate, though, that other cradlers and old-timers will still have many questions, and I'd love to anticipate some for future students' peace of mind.

American High Holy Days - Where Will You Be?

2005-10-06T14:59:00.000-07:00

Now that we've talked to all our parents, I can post about the upcoming holidays. This will be the first set of American High Holy Days that we won't see our families at all.

What delights me:
I will not be eating turkey
I will not be decorating a tree or listening to bad christmas music
not buying crap
not wrapping crap
not driving between topeka, lawrence, kansas city, columbia, and st. louis
berkeley holidays weather

What deflates me:
no midnight mass with sisters
no christmas wine and meal with dad and s
no red-headed beautiful nephew running and laughing and grinning at me
not being there when the surprise orange gift is opened by dad
no rolling around at home feeling fat and going to movies with sisters and brothers

let's review:
what I will miss: the people
what I won't miss: everything else

In making my mental list, I remembered that the people aren't going anywhere. My parents are coming in November, my sister probably in December, and Matt's parents will probably come in the next few months, too. I get to go home for the baptism in November and see more family. These times are my new High Holy Days.

Through this and many other recent experiences, I am becoming a more relationship-oriented person, a people person. The old calendar-obsessive, anally-punctual, over-prepared, highlighter-wielding me is falling away, and as I shed the layers I am getting to know my real self. Shoot, today the lady at the Visitor's Center was 15 minutes late getting back from lunch, couldn't find her key for another five, and I was just happy to have the chance to talk to her. Sometimes I don't even recognize myself for my sickeningly good attitude. I would have hated me a few months ago. I would have been one of those west coast types who goes with the flow, isn't in too big a hurry, rolls with the punches. I can spot 'em a mile away. California is doing me good.

Bildungsroman with Snap

2005-10-05T08:52:00.000-07:00

Mirrormask is the best take on a coming of age story I've probably ever seen. If you enjoy a little tripped out dream sequences, masks and an Edward Gorey-feel, please take your seats at a theater near you.

Since coming to California, to seminary, and since marriage, I've noticed how much I'm being asked to swallow these entirely foreign surroundings and digest them healthily and with thanksgiving. I do have the occassional bout with hiccups in the form of cryptic dreams, frustrated phone calls to friends, and some off-the-wall journal entries. I need artistic outlets during times of drastic life change. I seek a reflection for myself in books, movies, and music, and during these times I am also vulnerable, so it becomes important to choose cautiously where to take refuge. Thank you, Jim Henson friends, for reminding me that Legally Blonde and My So-Called Life reruns aren't the only bildungsroman flavors available. My tummy feels better already.

Book Bug

2005-10-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

In my Anglican book there is a bug
who crept in there and died
who now is a two-dimensional thing
*sigh*

I wonder at my previous reader, how Senor Bug got smashed
was she as wearied as I am of Richard Hooker trash?
Did this "Sacramental Worship" page, where this bug lies decaying,
finally cause a slamming shut and accidental slaying?

I'm trying not to judge the killer, I'm trying to bite my tongue,
for I am not that into this, the reading's boring and long.
But it's one thing to slam it shut, and give it up to Jesus,
quite another to condemn an insect to this treatise!

I cannot help but to imagine, my poor six-legged friend
reading in his second life, all this history, first to end
for once its read, who would return to these silly didactic pages
and here's our bug in margain long, confined to it for all the ages!

I hope that heaven's not like this where cramped, we sit and listen
to Calvin, Luther, and Swedenborg enumerate their wisdom
if this poor bug's foreshadowing of all our evers after
I'm outa here! (*while slamming book and breaking into laughter*)

Purifying Fire

2005-09-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

Fire is helpful and harmful, depending on the circumstances in which you find it. I struggle with it tremendously, but I do believe that in my life, fire of the allegorical variety can be experienced as destructive or purifying. I put forth this idea with wary trepidation because I know where it leads many theologically: all tragedies happen for a reason, all tragedy is God's will, all of this is meant for our good. I simply cannot go there; I find so much more nuance in the hard times of my life than these simple conclusions.

Still, I have experienced purifying fire and feel strongly called to share those experiences for the sake of others' hope. Yesterday was one of the more strange days of my life so far, and I feel incredibly vulnerable sharing my experiences. At the blogger panel for Theology on Tap, I was startled to hear that our faculty, fellow students and staff at the seminary peruse our blogs and talk amongst themselves about them. I heard my friend C speak to the vulnerability of blogging, and realized that I haven't made myself particularly vulnerable yet online. It is not required, but at times it is warranted.
Yesterday I missed a flight. It was for a meeting I should have attended for General Convention matters. I thought I was supposed to leave tomorrow rather than today, and by the time I realized my mistake I had been a no-show. There was nothing that could be done, and I called all the necessary people to explain what happened. Although I felt a huge wave of adrenaline when I discovered what happened, I didn't do what I usually do in these situations: freak out. I took several deep breaths and visualized myself in a month: how will this mistake affect my life overrall? Probably minimally. I felt overwhelmingly irresponsible and normally this feeling would cause a lot of anger to rise in me. This time, I was more realistic: my anger bouts never helped a single unfortunate event, and it usually made everyone around me uncomfortable as well. I have since received an email that I will be billed not only for the flight I missed but for any charges the hotel may give for cancelling on short notice. This is no small amount, and though it was my fault, this was only more bad news. I was somehow able to hold a sense of peace inside myself despite everything going on.

If it doesn't seem like much of a fire to you, or seems more like a struck match, I understand. I think some people, my husband for instance, would experience this situation as something like a minor setback, and go on with life, head up, shoulders back. If you know me, though, you probably have some sense that this is not my usual reaction. I am a schedule freak, a perfectionist, extremely organized. The peace I kept throughout the experience has allowed me to see growth in myself. Whether a small or large fire, I am able to see through an embarrassing mistake that I have grown. Before this experience, I had much less confidence in myself to deal with stress, an accident, a setback.

On a much more exciting note, I accompanied some acquaintances from back home on a tour of Cal-Berkeley and GTU campuses. I didn't know them well so I wasn't sure what to expect at all, and did feel a bit nervous as a tour guide in this town brand new to me and for these people fairly new to me as well. They ran a bit late and so while waiting I found myself studying greek at the downtown station, listening to street performers and fights among the onlookers, expletives flying over my head and gestures dancing around me, cops awkwardly looking on from a distance. As I was reciting, "Pas, pasa, pan" for about the 300 jillionth time, this woman approached me. I didn't really feel like talking to anyone, but she said very softly, "Excuse me. I'm sorry...if this, um, makes you uncomfortable....but you are....completely beautiful." WHAT???!!?!! I almost regressed into the self-hating "No! I'm the most irresponsible person ever!I missed my flight!" or better yet the sappy and self-centered, "You know, I REALLY needed to hear that today." Instead, there was peace in my heart again and I just felt very complimented by this also beautiful person, and I beamed a thank you and we just stood there for a minute. I don't know if this stranger saw me tearing up a bit as I was thinking of: flights, strangers shouting, strangers coming for my tour of Berkeley, self-loathing, anger-management, stress over the pending greek test, stress over money, but after a minute she said, "Well, have a nice day." and that was that. I grinned for a minute not knowing what else to do, and then put my nose back in my Greek book and tried not to analyze the experience, but just to be thankful for it. A part of me could go in a lot of directions with that, right? I am being too comforted by compliments about my looks --> my looks aren't me and this is patriarchy at work --> I am continuing to buy into patriarchy. I am being comforted by someone who is possibly hitting on me. I daresay it felt like an angelic encounter. Please, no comments on the sap-factor of this.

The acquaintances turned out to be fast friends. After a very pleasant tour talking about seminary life, California life, and all manner of things, they treated me to dinner at Chez Panisse!!!! It was delicious and such a treat not just to eat that amazing food but also to get to know better my guests, who are amazing and very spiritually uplifting to me as we spent the meal together. It was like water to my soul to eat and talk with these people. They were completely at east talking with me about things like spiritual warfare and prophecy. I felt completely at peace. After they dropped me off and I stepped out of the cab onto Euclid, I felt a pain in my foot, and removed my shoe to find two HUGE blisters, seemingly arising out of nowhere. One had already popped and was causing a searing pain, and the other was much larger but had not yet popped. I think I will be barefoot for a few days while I heal. Here's what I don't get: I have been walking everywhere in Berkeley for two months now, in these shoes no less: HOW did these pedal monstrosities develop at all, and why could I not feel them unti it was much much much much too late? I decided to take it as a sign I shouldn't be doing any more traveling for a few days, on foot or otherwise. All signs point to: STAY WHERE YOU ARE. By the time I caught up with friends back at Community Night, other people were having bad days, too. Though our community conversation about alcohol at Community Nights was productive and helpful, there was a solemn feeling in the air among those with whom I spoke. Still, I felt peace. The fire seemed to burning away ideas I no longer needed

So there you have it: I am walking double-blister with anger management problems who missed her flight, went out to dinner with a prophet and a doctor, and is beautiful to one stranger in Berkeley.

People Cry "STOP" and we're out of bullets

2005-09-25T12:49:00.000-07:00

300,000 gathered in DC yesterday to protest the war. Why aren't mainstream media sources reporting it? Large gatherings in San Fran, LA, and other locations in the thousands. 300,000, I would like to point out, is twice as many people as all those living in my hometown.

We're out of bullets for our mission in Iraq and we're getting them from, guess where?, Israel.

All's well in Houston?

Hurricane Rita

2005-09-23T14:37:00.000-07:00

For those looking for Rita resources, I'm currently looking at the projected path of the storm, a map of which dioceses are on that path, and a map of Texas. I sent an email to ETSS that the people of the Texas coast are in our prayers here at CDSP, and to let us know what work needs to be done if Rita does in fact hit and do damage. A Reading Week trip is still a possibility, as well as trip already being planned for Spring.

Please, if you have time before Friday ends, watch the stream of Democracy Now about what is currently going on in the Gulf Coast region under the direction of our presidential administration. Matt and I watch this broadcast every day and it has changed our perception of many things in this country.

I'll try to post more resources as events unfold.

Convocation: Funny Hats and Helpful Frames

2005-09-21T18:21:00.000-07:00

This afternoon at the GTU's Opening Convocation, the topic was "Negotiating the Boundaries in Theological and Religious Studies." The address was given by Ann Taves, professor of religious studies and Virgil Cordano OFM Professor of Catholic Studies at the University of California at Santa Barbara. ( past topics and speakers ) Judging the very low turnout for the event, with attendance comprised mostly of PhD students with achievements being recognized and the faculty members in their academic costumed glory, I was a little disappointed in the tenor of it, until Ann got into her talk about 10 minutes. Her ideas became a much-need mental file cabinet for about 80% of my struggle since arriving. A while ago, somethingunderstood blogged about how the academic and spiritual dimensions of seminary make for a funny feeling now and again. Am I here for academic formation or spiritual formation? When we read gnostic texts or learn prayer book history, how exactly are we being formed and which sets of biases are we to use to understand the material? Having come from the secular religious studies mindset at KU, being in these classes has so far felt like one big trick question. When Dan said, "Remember that Jesus has already been resurrected at this time," I jerked my head up so fast I got one of those neck cramps you can feel in your tongue. Then I remembered, oh yeah, "resurrection" isn't a bad word here.
Faith in the classroom still gives me the heebeejeebees, but I expect I'll get used to it. Train something out of me while I train something else in. And later for PhD, who knows; I'll probably have to do the 180 all over again.

I'll get to the point: regarding religious/secular studies and theological/seminary studies Ann pointed out it might be more useful to think of these two worlds not as opposing or parallel tracks but as two places where someone may or may not be actively engaged in the "making" or "doing" of their discipline. One way to judge this engaged or detached status is through defining major terms of your discipline. For instance, most of my religious studies professors at KU did not care to enter into the debate of what is "religion" but were rather happy to work with materials that somehow fell into that traditional category. We generally side-stepped the definitions with accounts of our inability to ever define "religion" completely, and therefore could go about the business of studying it. This would be the detached performance. I really got interested when she spoke to the fact that though we might be ready to deem most religious studies departments as responsibly "detached" and seminaries as "engaged," it is not neccesarily so, and not necessarily useful if it is so. I think she argued that a little of both in any given context is probably healthy.

Ember Days, Shmember Days

2005-09-19T23:30:00.000-07:00

This morning in chapel, M, a seminarian's daughter, read from Corinthians that "the kingdom of God depends not on talk but on power." Something about a young person reading the scripture makes the message clear as a bell and twice as convicting as when the rest of us open our tired mouths. When she read it, I wondered: am I living as though the kingdom of God is built on power, not words?

I finished my Ember Day letter, using my experience of M's reading as a springboard into how Katrina makes me feel like an ivory-tower-tenant in the midst of everything I could be doing that might be of greater service. Matt offered in repsonse to my panic that great thinkers all took their turn in school; it's my turn now, and I'll have something to contribute when my turn is up. I'm hoping he's right. If at the end of this all I have is white paper and white plastic, I'll cringe.

Mega Monday over and done with - the old 7:30-a.m.-to-6:00-pm-er is finished, week 2.

Food for thought: Read one Bishop's response to Nigerian Church events

Middle School Cheers and Sesame Street Chants

2005-09-17T14:31:00.000-07:00

"Put it all together, and what do you get?"

Justin Martyr (whom we just studied in my History of Christianity class) supposedly came to Christianity by reason. Joseph Butler (whom we're reading in my Anglican Tradition and Life class) defends that Christianity does not propose anything contrary to reason, that revelation was reasonable. The Fundamentalists (whose theology we've outlined in my Old Testament class) swallow all the demands of modernity and attempt to prove Christian precepts backwards in proof-style (see contemporary fundamentalist claims on evolution/creation, homosexuality and psychology/sociology). Contemporary Evangelicals propose their faith to potential converts in a very reason-oriented way, as if to say, There is nothing contradictory between reason and revelation. Are they just countering what mainstream protestants are calling the church where “you check your brain at the door” ? What does all this historical clash between reason and revelation amount to today, for us? Where are there reasoners posing as revelationers, and vice versa?

Anglicanism and "Other"

2005-09-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

I've spent the morning digesting the readings for my Anglican Tradition and Life class, and it has left me with a desire to know how universal is my Anglican education. This is just the newest example of where a blogring of Anglican/Episcopal seminarians and former seminarians would be shockingly useful (to me if no one else). Email me if you're interested in helping me form one.

At the coffee shop today I met R, whose class on Allergy to the Other at Starr King has opened for him a desire to merge the work of justice with the intellectual understanding of Self in terms of Other, rather than in terms of similarities to Self. His words were unusually fertile ground for me this morning, as I'm reading all this, as I'm now calling it, ASS (Anglican Spirituality Stuff). Here's why: everything I'm reading so far has depicted Anglican tradition as defined solely in terms of Other, meaning that as a tradition we've resisted any notion that we know ourselves as this or that but that we know we are not this or not that or in between this and that. I need to pursue further whether these tumultuous "definitons" of Anglicanism have any bearing on the concepts of Self and Other that R is recognizing.

This leads me to my blogring aspirations: I endeavor to guess that not all of us are reading the same history and definition of Anglican tradition that I am at CDSP. Discrepancies in syllabi might lead to an understanding of how we define Anglicanism for ourselves in the absence of any doctrinal definitions. In other words, are we all seeing Anglicanism as I'm being taught to see it? A good place to start is insitutional endorsements. I'd like to see the bibliographies on seminarians' syllabi for Anglican courses. I have my own bibliography and reading list as follows:

Schmidt's Glorious Companions
Sykes' The Study of Anglicanism
Wingate's Anglicanism: A Global Communion
Countryman's The Poetic Imagination: An Anglican Spiritual Tradition
The Windsor Report
Douglas' Beyond Colonial Anglicanism
Rowell's Love's Redeeming Work
Webber's Give Us Grace: An Anthology of Anglican Prayers

Secondary Bibliography
Armentrout's Documents of Witness: A History of the Episcopal Church
An Episcopal Dicitionary of the Church
Bates' A Church at War: Anglicans and Homosexuality
Bicknell's A Theological Introduction to the 39 Articles of the Church of England
Borsch's Anglicanism and the Bible
Cross' The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church
Hatchett's Commentary on the American Prayer Book
Moorman's A History of the Church of England
More's Anglicanism: The Thought of Practice of the Church of England, Illustrated from the Religious LIterature of the Seventeenth Century
Neill's Anglicanism
Shepherd's The Oxford American Prayer Book Commentary
Wolf's Anglican Spirituality
Wolf's The Spirit of Anglicanism
Wright's Prayer Book Spirituality

(Apologies for any bibliography nazis in the face of this [lack of] documentation.)

PS: All this ASS (see above) is a lot more interesting than I thought it would be.

Bookmark Theology

2005-09-15T21:53:00.000-07:00

My boss in Missouri gave me a going-away present of two bookmarks. One of them reads:

"Faith sees the invisible, believes the incredible, and receives the impossible."

I feel that in coming here (to seminary) I have been branded by my secular community as the seer of the invisible and believer of the impossible.
At the next table in the coffee shop today, two men shared with one another various factoids about the Christian-ness of this country's inhabitants and the immoral behavoir of its leaders. "Only 18% of Israel declares itself Jewish!" one blurts, "and 85% of America claims Christianity!" They lamented that for as "Christian" as this country is, we are quite "unChristian" in our conduct domestically and internationally. I sensed that to these men also I would be the seer of the invisible; I predict that to them I would represent the deceived masses of Christians, accepting war and oppression from our leaders because it is couched in terms of naming the other the "evildoer", branding the poor the immoral, understanding the oppressed in some fabricated system of well-distributed justice.
I don't want to get into politics, but I do want to dig deeper into this bookmark theology that we Christians are branded the seers of the invisible.
When Jesus talks to Thomas in that tense post-resurrection encounter, the words (I've heard them all this time as admonition) ring in my ears: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe."
What does John want me to hear in Jesus' words? What was Jesus telling Thomas?

WARNING: annoying side thoughts -- not for the weak of stomach or faint of heart --
[Someone suggested to me that it was because of Thomas' persistance that he was awarded the singular experience to finger the wounds. I see it as a teachable moment that Jesus chose to use to demonstrate something to us -- not a lesson in demanding material proof as virtue -- and then I wonder if the whole thing is a lesson in not forgetting what you already know. Thomas had been warned, after all, that Jesus would return. That feels incredibly harsh to me, though. Imagine the paranoia that has likely ensued among the apostles at this time. They are getting it from all sides, probably including "inside" at this point. And something like an appearance of Jesus would be a very convenient thing to invent to deflect some of the pain of being just dead wrong on the whole Messiah thing. Maybe Thomas misses his teacher and 3-year companion so much that he resents that he had to miss out on the event. But maybe the paranoia has gotten to him. The upper room huddling is probably wearing them all down. I don't even want to mention what Elaine Pagels' take on the story is.]

Somehow in this story Jesus calls Thomas and the rest of us to "see the invisible, believe the incredible and receive the impossible" just like in my bookmark. What are the implications of this expectation for us as Christians? We are expected from the inside (Jesus) and outside (bookmark) of our communities to have the hope of all hopes, the belief of all beliefs...to trust in something that isn't "there" in the way other things are "there." In a place and time valuing proof above faith, where does that leave us? (A second question is more narrow: Where does it leave the seminary student who, in the name of this faith expectation, studies everything around the invisible and the invisible itself, in the academic environment otherwise conditioned to function on the proof level with the rest of the world.)

The reality is that some Christians are intensely rational, some are intensely irrational, and some of us are caught somewhere in the middle, affirming things like Biblical criticism and evolution but not altogether confident that we have the faith of a mustard seed at the end of the day. I see many of us vascillating between trying to prove to ourselves we're the most rational of the Modern Englightenment bunch and on the other hand trying to prove we see more than meets the eye in case any Englightenment-ers out there are looking for a little dose of mysticism. Whether we "see the invisible" or not remains largely in the eye of the beholder. Leave it to a bookmark to throw me into a tailspin.

Seminary, Mid-Spin

2005-09-13T15:30:00.000-07:00

Post 2 from California:

After a very leisurely month of getting to know the terrain, I am now in full swing. Seminary has picked me up and spun me around and last night briefly dropped me on my head, so that I could sit and rub the formed bump on my noggin. There seems to be more room in my cranium under the heading "New Information" than I thought, because after orientation, transportation schedules, geographical exploration, many new friends and acquaintances, a new job, a new job for Matt, budgeting and finance work, 5 new class subjects and 1 new language (oi boes ousiv ischuroi), I was able to cram 3 hours of Anglican Tradition and Life in there without any detectable explosions. However, there was a tiny threat of melt-down last night around 9:30 p.m., when all the words on the page started blurring so that they all read, You are getting very sleepy. Ahhhhh, yessssss.....it is sssssleeeeep that you neeeeeeed. And I journeyed in the in-between wake and sleep area of consciousness for about an hour before giving up entirely. I realize a recap of the last few weeks is overdue.

Orientation was effortless and enjoyable, meeting new people, being thrust into a new worshipping routine, and attending various discussions, workshops, and information sessions on everything from enrollment to financial aid to spiritual directors. Instead of letting it all sink in with my colleagues over the weekend, I rushed to Menlo Park for a Presiding Bishop Nominating Committee meeting for the Labor Day Weekend. Labor we did. Rest from our Labors we did not. The meeting was productive, though, and at some point I will try to form a cohesive set of reflections on the entire committee experience. Most of the time I felt distracted and a little sleep deprived, having trouble shifting mindsets from I'm in seminary! I made it! I'm really here! to Examine these nominees' strengths and weaknesses and the usual committee brain fare. Still, I returned to the City with Sierra to show her some tourist sights, had a wonderfully peaceful Chinese dinner with Matt in downtown Berkeley, and promptly returned to my apartment for sleep, sleep and sleep.

Reflections on the standard 1st year M.Div. schedule: I predict my History of Christianity class will contain the most classroom energy, and my own pursuits in Old Testament should keep me busy enough not to complain about the sea-turtle speed at which we're moving. Biggest shocker: Fundamentals of Worship. I was intensely skeptical based on some misconceptions during orientation and approached even the very floor of the common room with extreme caution. Feeling intimidated and general put-off by the "liturgy rats/nerds/junkies" around me and the hostile warnings against harboring our own "personal liturgical agendas" in orientation, I felt I was about to enter a war-zone I didn't know existed. I tried to close my eyes and examine myself honestly for a personal liturgical agenda, but the only thing that came to mind was a dislike for the conservative Christian ribbon dancers that performed to boom box tunes at the Columbia Twighlight Festivals on Thursday nights in summer. And does that even count? I doubt Lizette is going to start any jigs of this kind, even for a what-not-to-do demonstration. I sat there in the Common Room and sighed at my lack of enthusiasm for the whole chapel component of the program. Maybe I'm not supposed to be a priest after all, I thought, I don't even have my personal liturgical agenda prepared. I worried that maybe I had misinterpreted my hunger and thirst after theology for a call to ordained ministry. In talking with some 2nd year students, some other priests, and friends, I realized that my lack of zeal in this area may be an asset, in that it may leave me room to explore the chapel phenomenon with an open mind and heart, and that some history and theology of liturgy may just get the train smoking. After meeting for the 2nd time today, I think they all may just be right. Who knew I would actually be interested in which prayers were introduced in the 16th century, and which ones we took from Byzantine liturgies? And George is a highly encouraging teacher, funny and putting all of us at ease who are biting our inner-nails at the thought of singing liturgy in front of ANYONE. I don't mind performing the occassional Cher impersonation but this is NOT that, and I can't even stretch it into that. If someone asked me today, What seminary should I go to? I would say, Come here and learn from George. Some who read may be shocked, but my fellow students may agree. He is hilarious, encouraging and knows his stuff. There is hardly a better teacher out there than that.

Our entering class retreat was quick but relaxing in the middle of the redwoods. A trip to Goat Rock beach was wonderful -- a rock beach with a deadly undertow so dangerous that my barefoot wading earned me a talk with a park ranger (beach ranger?). I got to learn the history of the beach, if anyone is dying to know. And more bonding time with classmates was a good thing. I had begun to settle into a certain group and the retreat opened up the social territory splendidly. Note to self: don't clique up.

Mostly I am discovering that for the first time, I am allowing myself the time and reflection to have an integrated schooling experience. Watching Matt get his philosophy degree gave me piles of good ideas for how to actually digest the lessons at hand, and take the class notes to a level of understanding that makes them accessible in other continents of my brain. My undergrad was a flurry of 3 concurrent part-time jobs and full time class work. One semester I remember working 40 hours and taking 17 class hours. I got all A's. The amount I can tell you about from those classes amounts to some buzz phrases I memorized for professors and the books I just gave to our church's booksale this summer. What more might I have taken with me had I sat with my studies, let them steep and stew? I made a commitment before coming to CDSP to follow tangents of thought that my studies aroused, and let these trial balloons float, even if they evolve into an extra project. As I've been meditating on this hope for a more integrated experience, our Anglican Tradition and Life class seemed to poke its head up like an answered prayer. Bill Countryman urged us to make the class a space to process the experience of being here and preparing for ministry, while seeking to understand our tradition in the context of our real lives. Let the integrated experience begin.

Matt is working at Berkeley Natural Grocery doing all those natural grocery things he was doing before we came across the country. Estimated job next year: High school History teacher. He is entering a certification program that he should be able to pair with an internship teaching. Our apartment is still a bit in transition but it is coming along. My thoughts are often with Marcia and Daryll, Honey and Papaw as they continue to go through their experiences of Katrina, having lost their homes and many of their belongings. I miss Brie and Josh and our friends in Columbia, and our families. Dad and Sally are going to come for a visit in November. Hopefully someday Cindy and Roy will come, too. Matt and I are reeling with the news that BOTH of our little sisters rushed at their respective universities this fall. Where did we go wrong, we asked ourselves, laughing. They seem to be well-adjusted women, though, so we can't worry so much. Still, this inside perspective into the sorority system is not what I expected from my own flesh and blood. Katie is still thriving in her new environment of religious studies and St. Thomas.

Stay tuned for reflections on work study and other academic musings. Wrists writing off....

2005-08-13T14:05:00.000-07:00

I'm in California!
The plants love to grow. You don't have to beg or plead.
There is any kind of food you want, and a lot of Asian deliciousness I couldn't get in the midwest.
I'm reading Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird. I watched Big Fish this morning AND director's commentary. I'm still in my pajamas at 2 pm.
I like not having a car. Stay tuned in case my opinion changes once I'm on a schedule.
I applied for my California driver's license. It comes in the mail! :(
I am thinking of going to the park for awhile and a play tonight. I have no commitments, appointments, or assignments for a few more weeks.
Leave a voice mail today because I probably won't answer. :)

2005-07-07T06:39:00.000-07:00

Artemesia Gentileschi's Penitent Magdalene

My senior project on the traditions of Mary Magdalene surfaces in my mind often. My morning coffee is sending me down a worm-hole to the research I did for that project. I am currently brainstorming my possible MA Thesis topics and my work with Mary Magdalene keeps surfacing in terms of women in the church -- their image, traditional roles, art, and models in scripture. Mary-Maggie represents nearly all the angst of women and Christianity to me--was she an independent wealthy woman who financed Jesus' mission or a prostitute barely saved by Jesus who worshipped him hungrily all her days afterward? Was she the one who poured oil on Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair (giving her the traditional alabaster jar prop) or was that just the nameless woman as scripture says? As a church, as a society, we struggle to let women exist apart from the men in their lives. We struggle to comprehend that Mary Magdalene may have come to Jesus because of his healing work, decided to support him with her means, and become his disciple. It seems much more familiar and comfortable to relegate her to what she "really" is -- a sexual deviant, a this-far-from-total-destruction dependent.

At a discussion of the Da Vinci code several months ago at church, we discussed the ideas present in the book regarding the relationship between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. Though most were comfortable releasing the ideas as "sensational," one gentlemen thoughtfully remarked, "Why would Jesus choose a prostitute?" I wanted so much to take over the discussion then, to break out all the scriptures directly and indirectly linked to Mary Magdalene and explore how Mary Magdalene is a symbol for much of the way the church and society relates to and thinks about women, and how her presence in our tradition can open us to the possibilities of both men and women in the church. Instead, I laughed at the assumption that she was a prostitute, and we went on.

My commitment to the symbol of Mary Magdalene continues. I appreciate the work of Elaine Pagels and others of our era who are returning to Mary Magdalene as a character of importance, deconstructing the sexualized images of her from the Middle Ages, and re-posing the question: who does the Bible say Mary Magdalene was? Who has history said she was? What are the discrepancies? What do these discrepancies reveal about how we think of women? Why is this helpful?

Witchhunt for Invocations of Irenaeus

2005-06-28T07:41:00.000-07:00

Irenaeus: Are they Invoking You?

June 28: Feast of Iranaeus, Bishop of Lyons. As I read the description this morning in my handy Lesser Feasts and Fasts, I visualized Bishop I traipsing around Europe, defending Orthodoxy against the threats of Montanism and Gnositicism, helping to excommunicate the heretical bishops of Rome and elsewhere to protect the Church and Her God.

Are there traveling theologians in our Anglican Communion who see themselves as modern Irenaeii? Circling and networking with their theological bedfellows, no matter how they arrived at their same conclusions (read: strict definition of who can comprise a family, a single tradition of biblical interpretation, false assertions of "hate the sin, love the sinner").

In Lesser Feasts and Fasts, we are invited to laud the militant defense against "every blast of vain doctrine." I'm no gnostic or montanist, but what might I be in the eyes of the current orthodox army? It is a humbling, and yet inspiring question. If Bishops of the 3rd century were Montanists and Gnostics, what are the Bishops of the 21st? Relativists, Revisionists? All this grants orthodoxy to the establishment. Really, is that so far off? What can we assume is meant by the "true religion" to which Irenaeus so tenaciously clung?

PRAYER for Irenaeus (contemporary language) -- Almighty God, who upheld your servant Irenaeus with strength to maintain the truth against every blast of vain doctrine: Keep us, we pray, steadfast in your true religion, that in constancy and peace we may walk in the way that leads to eternal life; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Little Girls and Big Girls - An E-Place for Every Girl

2005-06-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

What I Learned This Weekend: little girls post on xanga. big girls post on blogger. come to find out, it isn't getting hitched, leaving home, or graduating from college that makes us into adults. It is moving our blog to the other site. So here I am. I promise not to sound grown-up; I promise to never grow up.

From here to there; I've arrived.