moving...

hey folks.

abbykk.com is looking better and better and now is my new blogging home. if you are still following me here, please change my address in your reader and keep up with me there...

i just posted on how i hope to get back into painting and would love your feedback.

transitions

this weekend, i graduate from seminary. i am growing up and moving on, in many ways, by staying where i am. i am not changing addresses. i am not finding new job (yet). i even still have to take classes until the end of 2009.

the biggest change: realizing i want to be an artist.

to the rest of the world, this may not come as a shock. i was an art major in college. i have a BFA. i enjoy painting with kids. i carry colored pencils in my purse more often than i carry lip gloss. but, i always just thought it was who i was--not something i did, especially not to make a living.

but as i grow, one of the major things i have learned in seminary is that i want to make a living doing things that i believe in, and love. and if that is the case, art will always be a part of making a living.

i keep running into emotions around the changes that are happening that i do not expect. fear is the biggest. i am afraid i cannot make money making art. i am afraid i will fail before i even try. this fear is so palpable, i am fighting to keep it from tying me down, paralyzing me, and restricting me from even trying.

and so i will try. this is step one. i am moving my blog over to abbykk.com, which will also include an online portfolio, and links to an etsy.com shop that is under construction.

this is an experiment in a life of minstry, service and art. can I integrate the parts of myself into a creative life that serves the world? simple as it sounds, this is the sincere question that will drive this experiement in my life. the least i can do is try.

and fyi... abbykk.com is still underconstruction. by the end of the week, i hope to have the kinks worked out and an etsy.com shop up and running. we shall see.

intimate moments in public

this morning while frantically filing my gas tank, late as usual, two cop cars pull into the gas station behind an innocuous looking four door. in the short time that it took my car to suck down a few gallons of gas, the two cops had two young men out of the car, cuffed and were patting them down.

i felt like a peeping tom. here were these young men, probably not more that a handful of years younger than me, being restrained. in a exceptionally basic way, their freedom to move was being denied. and once cuffed, an authority was touching and feeling them. touches that in another context would be considered intimate, but because of uniforms, restraints, hardware and context, are extremely public.

my read on this is scene is colored by too many lenses to name. my own context. i have only been in a car that was pulled over once, and i was not the driver. i am white, and have lived in cities where that seriously drives down the likelihood that cops look twice at you. yet, i am the child of a lawyer who was sure to teach his children their rights at the hands of authority, and how to play the game if pulled over. and in oakland, not a few miles from where a traffic stop took a fatal turn in march, i cannot imagine being a cop in this city and not confronting that reality everyday. nor can i imagine being a young man cuffed in this city, knowing the history, and the fate of the shooter in that incident. these are only the beginnings of the forces at work as that cop rolled up the young man's sleeve and enclosed his wrists in steel.

what feels private is public, and so i turned away, tucked my chin down, replaced the gas pump and drove to holy hill.

huh.

to keep from eating paint.

i recently tweeted that i want to paint so badly i can taste it. i didn't realize how that sounded until four or five replies that made don't-eat-paint jokes. but, i have found in my deep desire recently to draw more, paint more, and devote my time to these creative and seemingly earthly pursuits that i am starting to make art in unexpected places. i wonder if people presbytery meetings and at chapel services and classes on theodicy are put off or confused by my art making during these solemn and sacred events. i hope not. i hope they realize that it is my way to connect to the Divine and those around me, and that i finally feel comfortable enough (or desperate enough) to make art in a public spaces where that is not generally done.

above, my prayer for the presbytery meeting last week, coming out of the worship experience that surrounded the vote on constitutional amendments, in particular a reading of Ephesians 4:1-6.

ephesians 1 a la abbykk

yesterday i preached on ephesians 1 at mbcc. the translation we are using for this series on ephesians is the translation i completed during my greek intensive in january with the help of dr. polly coote. below is the translation of the first chapter, the questions i asked mbcc, and some form of the thoughts i tried to share. it's the outline of what i worked with, but for anyone who has been a part of a worship where the sermon involves discussion, what i start with or expect is never exactly what happens. its beauty is in the unpredictability and the places where wisdom surprises us.

EPHESIANS 1

Paul, apostle of Christ Jesus, by the will of God, to the ones who are in Ephesus and the faithful in Christ Jesus: Grace for you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Blessed be God the father of the Lord of us, Jesus Christ, the one who blesses us with each spiritual blessing in the heavenly things in Christ.

As God chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, for us to be holy and blameless in front of him in love, predestining us for the purpose of adoption by means of Jesus Christ into him, according to the favor of his will, for glorious praise of his grace, which favored us in the beloved.

In whom we have the redemption by his blood, the forgiveness of the transgressions because of the wealth of his grace, which God made abound for us in all wisdom and in understanding, making known to us the mystery of his will according to his pleasure, which he planned by it, for the purpose of the arrangement of the completion of times, all things to sum themselves up in Christ, on the heavens and on the earth in him.

In whom we were called, predestined, according to the will of the one doing everything, according to the resolution of his will, in order for us to be in glorious praise of him, the ones who have hoped before in Christ.

In whom you all also after hearing the word of the truth, the good news of our salvation in whom, also after believing sealed by the holy spirit of the promise, which is the pledge of our inheritance, deliverance of possession, for praise of his glory.

On account of this, I too having heard of the faith of you in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the holy. I do not cease being thankful on behalf of you, remembering you in the time of my prayer. So that God of the Lord of us, Jesus Christ, the glorious father, may give you spirit of wisdom and revelation in knowledge of him, having the eyes of your heart enlightened to know what is the hope of his calling, what is the wealth of his glorious possessions in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us, the faithful, according to the working of the might of his strength.

He worked in the Christ after raising him from the dead and seating him in at his right hand in the heavenly things, over every ruler and authority, earthly and heavenly power and every name being called not only in this age but also in the future; and God subordinated everything under his feet and he gave him as head of everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of the one who is filling everything in everyway.

The Word of God.

Let us pray.

What words stood out to you in all of that?

Given it's reputation, predestination is very often on the top of that list for me.

What is predestination?

How do we think about it and associate in wider culture?

BUT

Together, let's reflect on what this passage in particular... not culture, not Calvin, not even other parts of the Bible... just this chapter of Ephesians... can tell us about predestination.

In Ephesians 1, we encounter the word in two places-

v. 5: "for the purpose of adoption"
If adoption is the purpose of predestination, how does that challenge your understanding of predestination? What difference does adoption make to predestination?

v. 10: paralleled with "called". The writer of Ephesians very often repeats synonyms or similar concepts to drive his point home.
What is call? What does an association with "call" tell us about what predestination is?

We also encounter God over as over as God the father (pardon the masculine language if that offends you.) throughout this chapter. But, the plans of a parent are different than the plans of a boss, for example. What does the metaphor of God as father tell us about predestination?

So, in your own words, how might you define or think about predestination based on this passage?

God's plan is for us to be adopted into God's family. For me, the heart of this concept of predestination is God choosing us to be brothers and sisters in Christ, receiving our inheritance through the Holy Spirit. Predestination is an understanding of God's hope and call for us to live in community as family. As siblings share, we share our inheritance of grace and the responsibility of God's work in the world. This does not have to imply that we have no control, simply that since the beginning of creation, God has reached out to adopt us, and God hopes we respond to that love. Over and over again, throughout the Biblical narrative, we see God choosing people--individuals and communities to be a part of the divine family. Often it is those least expected to be chosen. But, again and again, God chooses us with a love that is without boundaries.

God does not stop there. The author of Ephesians lists many of the fruits of our adoption, though often in vague language. We are redeemed and forgiven, our hearts are enlightened and we are humbled by Jesus. We are all a part of the body, with Christ as the head. But as with the adoption into a family, the process does not stop with the legal paperwork, it only begins. God's process is only at the beginning when we are adopted through Christ into God's family.

Ezekiel 36:24-28, is one of the many places that God is explained as choosing people, lays out many of the processes that are a part of the transformation that begins at our adoption. God gathers us, cleanses us, gives us a new heart and spirit. God will move us to follow the divine call and the divine ways. All of this is a part of the promise God makes when God adopts us. The process of faith that begins with Jesus is just that... a process. As we grow in our families, in our communities, in our relationships here with one another, we also grow in our relationship with God.

This process is difficult. Just as in families, we know that we are no only defined by our relationships, but by our entire history that we have lived together. Even when we recognize our adoption by God, we do not always recognize who are brothers and sisters are in that family. I went to the San Francisco Presbytery meeting this week, one of the denominational bodies that this congregation participates in. This is a body that knows consciously that it is the body of Christ and has covenanted to live as brothers and sisters in the family of God. And yet, when controversial issues, deeply held beliefs, and significant conflicts arise as they did this week, the body sometimes chooses not to engage. My biggest disappointment at the meeting was not that the issues were not decided how I hoped, but that the presbytery voted against talking in small groups about the difficult issue at hand. No one wanted to listen to each other. Everyone assumed they know what the other side would say and did not want to be open to be challenged, or to grow. In that moment, most of the presbytery refused to see that those they disagree with are just as much their brother or sister in Christ as those they agree with.

If there is time... move onto these questions. If not, skip to clip.

Using this metaphor and these scriptures, where we are all equal siblings under Jesus, how do we solve conflict? How did you and your siblings solve conflict? How should you have handled it? How do we love each other when we don't agree with someone else's choices or the direction they are headed in?

What do we do to keep living together in peace? How do we transform our own perspective so that we see our adversaries as brothers or sisters in Christ?

End with clip from the the Birdcage. This family sets aside differences to become family and act on behalf of the other, adopted into the same family whether you like it or not.

Let us pray.

Open to the holy spirit?

This evening was the SF Presbytery meeting. For all those non presby-geeks out there, I go because I enjoy the community. My membership is in Cincinnati, but I will not have a vote at Presbytery until (if and when) I am ordained. Then my membership will move to where I work.

On the docket tonight: a constitutional amendment (known as 08-B) that is making the presbytery rounds for approval. The amendment would remove and change the language that excludes GLBTQ people from ordination (as deacons, elders and ministers).

At first, I was deeply impressed with SF Presbytery for not only putting the votes on GA amendments in worship (book-ended by scripture and communion)... and with aiming for a process that humanized the conflicts and dissension within the presbytery by asking people to process and discuss in small groups (of voices they do not hear). But the first thing they voted on in regards to these issues was process and they voted to eliminate small group discussion... a sign to me that this presbytery is not interested in listening to each other.

The process agreed upon was a pre-selected panel of six (three in support, three opposing) followed by silence and a ballot vote. This is not the standard presbytery process (which includes open mic time and voice votes before ballots).

Four of six speakers on the panel were men, one was a person if color. More ministers than elders. Can we really talk about radical inclusion with integrity when that is the case?

Highlights of the speakers that stood out to me:

In support of the amendment, noted were places where biblical authority has come to new understandings... Slavery, women's leadership, inclusion of those with disabilities, interracial marriage. Grace filled understanding of moral evolution and interpretation of scripture is the example if Jesus himself.

Against amendment B, speaking to flaws in proposed amendment rather than inclusiveness of ordination. The words are not strong enough to be true to ordination vows. Reform as return, not progress.

An elder from MBCC spoke in favor of the amendment. He is our eldest elder and was amazing. He spoke about family, from his experience. He asked who is not here... something everyone else missed. He challenged the fairness of deciding this issue without being able to here from the GLBTQ folks who are a part of our communities. We don't let folks speak for themselves. He also noted the way that conflict is causing the church to lose credibility in wider society. (and made a slick Will and Grace reference).

Next person against framed the issue as not just about polity or theology but as deeply personal. He said after serious soul searching and he realized he must submit to authority of scripture around "God's design for human sexuality in the bible"... all of it.

Aside: I cannot buy, as a young woman, even a straight one, that the "scriptural" picture of sexuality is God's design for human sexuality. Scriptural understandings of human sexuality allow for the ownership of women in sexual relationships and polygamy. Our church does not pretend to practice a Scriptural understanding of sexuality... at least as far as I understand the Bible and the PC(USA) position.

I lost steam for taking notes by the last two speakers, but fear stood out for me, as did the assumption that ambiguity is always bad and painful.

Hymn sing while ballots are counted. Yes, no or abstain were the options.

Here is what amazes me about presbytery meetings. And perhaps this is my newness, my naivete, or maybe this is what we hope presbytery to be... but even having "lost," there were times in the process that I felt the Spirit, and that there seemed to be that sincere efforts at being the one body of Christ amidst a diversity of opinions.

That said, I was not as confident as some that SF would support the amendment, but I still thought "hey, with all these places like (insert presbytery you assume in more "conservative" than SF here) changing the spirits on minds on this amendment, SF will certainly go." Surprise!

And yet, I experience grace and support at presbytery. Even as a seminarian. Who is not under care here. Who doesn't go to the local Presbyterian seminary. I feel accepted and supported as a colleague by people I am proud to learn from. My experiences of fellowship at these presbytery mtgs. over the last eighteen months give me hope and enthusiasm for participating in such bodies in my future ministry... actively. engaged in the "institution." never expected that. never thought i would LIKE presbytery meetings. Surprise!

So, do we only "feel the Spirit" when we think we are going to win?

Resurrections

I have been trying to write this post for days. The good news: I have been to busy celebrating resurrection to write about it. The bad news: I have been too busy to reflect.

Over my kitchen sink hangs a photograph of resurrection- sunflowers growing on an abandoned lot that is home to a decaying church. It was a gift from it's artist, an man named Jimmy Heath who taught me what resurrection looks like in the world around us.

I met Jimmy first in high school when he came to talk to a group of us about his experiences and photos of the annual protest against the School of the Americas. I got to know him better in college, volunteering on a project for him at his Center for Community Photography in Over the Rhine, in Cincinnati.

Jimmy's story is an amazing story that brings me to my knees. He came to Cincinnati homeless and addicted. He resurrected at the Drop-inn Center, developing his photography and passion for community. I didn't know Jimmy at the depths, on the cross. I knew the risen Jimmy, who gave neighborhood kids their first art experiences, who was humbled by the power of expression, who shared what he had as a community leader. As the editor of Street Vibes, he taught me to look for the voice of the people society tries to hide everywhere I go.

I found out on Maundy Thursday, in the emotional throes of Holy Week that Jimmy died in 2007, almost 18 months ago, and I didn't know.

By way of a friend, I heard the Rev. Lynice Pinkard say that resurrection is life from loss. The loss of an active faith community inspired new plant life to bloom in the neighborhood. In Jimmy, the loss if so much in his life was transformed into leadership and vision for a community.

As I have tried to live at the mouth of the tomb this week, it is through witnessing the resurrection if Christ reflected in the resurrection in the world- like Jimmy- that give me the hope, the courage, the passion, and the vision will need to live a minstry of resurrection.

In memory of Jimmy Heath and all he gave to the world. I hope some day I can honor his legacy.

Prayer for holy week

This morning at PSR's chapel service, Rev. Jim Mitulski and his MCC colleagues prayed us into Holy Week. The music split open my soul and revealed to me my hunger for the story because I see the story around me all the time ... Rev. Jim pushed us to embrace those reflects and speak the good news ontotjose places. This week as I walk the story, I pray that it transform me for a lifetime vocation that speaks the truth of the suffering, death and resurrection to the world.

walking the week

yesterday jesus rode into to jerusalem on the back of a donkey. by the end of the week, we will walk the rituals that commemorate his death on the cross.

yesterday's sermon at mbcc, delivered by mr. moderator himself, challenged us to see the whole story. when we wave our palms and sing hosanna, we do so in full knowledge of what comes next--and in full knowledge of the truth that Jesus spoke that lead to the cross. as the crowds cheered, jesus defended them to the religious authorities and then:

"As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, "If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace—but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come on you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you."

luke 19:41-44

we don't always get what we want, but we just might get what we need.

when the crowds cheered jesus, did they want a messiah that wept for their city? no, they awnted one that fought for their city.

when the religious authurities took their concerns that the populist hero, did they want to be challenged and turned away? no, but they sure needed to be.

bruce challenged us yesterday to not just look for what we want in faith, but to be open to what we need. as i walk throguh holy week this week, this will be at the forefront of my process as i continue to discern what the next step in my call to ministry might be. i say i want to commit to God in new ways. i say i want to continue to learn how to be a pastor. but do i realize the depth of that need, and am i open to the surprising ways God might make that happen? or am i focused narrowly on what i want?

When there are no more hoops

My life in the last three years has seemed to be an unending series of bureaucratic steps, beginning with the application to seminary. Housing forms, financial aids forms, ordination forms, entrance interview, exit interview, interview I didn't realize was an interview. Paper, exam, form, rinse and repeat.

In some ways, this structure makes it easy to make meaning in my life. A hoop gets jumped, I feel like I have made progress and grown, and I feel valuable. Sometime soon (ish) the hoops will be gone.

A wise moderator once said that the institution doesn't give us meaning, only God does that.

True, but how easily we give ourselves away and look for our meaning in the wrong places.

I find this a distinction I need to keep in mind as a ponder and pray about the next step in my ministry. As it is easy to give away my meaning and find it in the hoop jumping, it would be east to look for a call from the church instead of a call from God.

jesus vernacular

i need to get to know my bible better. i wanted to start this post with a reference to the paul quote about being like the gentiles among the gentiles, like the jews among the jews, etc.... but i can't find it. ah well.

last sunday, i lead the prayers of the people at mbcc. not my favorite gig. it is a mix of MC/spiritual leader/interpreter for the congregation. we take joys and concerns from anyone and then ask that the whole community keep them in prayer, but that one particular person pray for that concern during the week. it is a cool system that keeps some accountability and real relationship as a part of the process. but for the person leading this process, it means that you have to repeat back the prayer request, get a volunteer and distinguish from people who are raising their hand for the next request and people who are raising their hand to volunteer to be the pray-er.

because of these many juggling functions and roles, it makes me nervous. plus, i don't feel very good at praying out loud on the spot (does anyone feel confident about that?).

so, last sunday, one person's request went something like this:

"i want to thank Jesus for helping us find an apartment that was even better than we had hoped"

my response:

"that is so exciting. who doesn't understand that feeling in the bay area. finding that great place to live, esp. when it is better or cheaper than you had hoped for is... like magic!"

peanut gallery response:

giggling from back corner (i deserved it).

insert foot in mouth.

pointed out after church:

"it's not magic. it's um... God."

chew foot.

well yes, that is our shared theological assumption. we thank God for our blessings. gifts are not magic, they are the movement of God among us.

what i notice happens for me is that i have the language i use in my head. not everyone else gets it. for me, magic is an active engagement in the world, the movement of the Spirit. in my head, it works out that way b/c of the vernacular i have grown up using and they varying ways that cultures understand "magic" that sometimes closely approximates the movement of the Spirit. yes, there are people who believe in magic as such.

whatever. i can justify my use of my own language all i want. we all make sense to ourselves (most of the time) in our own heads, before we put our thoughts into the world. but when we cross that threshold of articulating anything abstract in concrete words, we have to be conscious of the way words and used and how they will be heard.

i am not very good at the jesus talk. i don't have standard jesus vocabulary. sometimes that is fine. sometimes it can be a strength in talking about God to people who don't use or know the vocabulary either. but, when in the spaces and places where the jesus talk is used, i need to adapt and learn the language.

Rock solid

Today I returned to a place that has not changed at all since I went there when I was very small. It fluctuates with the seasons but it's structure and essence remain the same.

This creek has always been a cleansing place for me. I take comfort it it's solidity, feeling my soul settle as I melt against the side of one of it's boulders... The very same boulder that I look at all the time in a snapshot of my best friend and I during the summer before high school. Though I have changed and grown, it appears to have remained the same. This boulder, this creek is dynamic, just with a different sense of time than I have.

Why is stability so comforting? My soul aches to follow Jesus, to find a call befitting that path, but it is not a path of stabilty. My life is more likely to be like a stick that drifts past the boulder, pausing in pools, rushing over rapids, careening past drops, than the boulder itself. My savior is one who had no place to lay his head. He was a sojourner who carried what he needed with him in his heart.

I fear needing to do the same. I thrive on change yet am driven to anxiety by it at the same time. This life I am called to may be nothing like what I imagined, but the hope of the calling is that through true disciplship, it will be richer than I could gave imagined. Those shifting sands may be nothing like the boulder my soul calls for, but one day I may learn to find the same comfort there that my boulder provides.

psalm 19 sermon

tomorrow i preach at bethel community presbyterian church in san leandro. the scripture chosen for me was psalm 19, which if you have been reading lately, i feel spoke deeply into my experience at the commission on the status of women. and so, here is my what i am starting from as i work towards tomorrow morning. i am going to try to be brave, preaching from notes or nothing at all, and trying to have fun with a congregation that i am told will talk back to me. so this was simply step one in the preaching process... getting all the thoughts into some kind of organized whole as a jumping off point.

beware the length.

* * *

The work of God is woven into the very fabric of the world. So often we do not see the threads that demonstrate that work, we simply see the blessings that result, not realizing we should be grateful to God. Psalm 19 tells us that God’s voice is present without words, but the voice is not heard.

The same can be said of the work of women. So often, in many places, it is women whose work is invisibly woven into the success of their families, their communities, their countries. Their voice cries out, without words, and is ignored.

I had the privilege of spending last weekend at the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women with as a part of the Presbyterian delegation, with women from the National Network of Presbyterian College Women, Racial Ethnic Young Women Together, and Presbyterian Women. The Commission happens every year, convening for international discussion on the status of women in general and a particular theme in particular. Equal sharing of care giving between the genders, particularly in the context of HIV/AIDS, was this year’s theme. The Presbyterian delegation’s presence, like the presence of other non-governmental organizations, was to advocate for women using a faith based perspective, out of the experiences of women’s lives in our communities and ministries. To do this, we worked with a group called Ecumenical Women that brought together many denominations to provide a more powerful, progressive voice. This group represented denominations, churches and ministries from all over the world, and women from across the globe started every day at the CSW in worship together.

Advocacy is not the only function of the CSW. Women from all over the globe also come to New York City to share stories, to network, to build global community. Many of these stories, like the voice of God present in the heavens and the firmament, are not heard often, if at all. This is a place for them to be voiced.

As HIV takes its toll, transforming into AIDS, and parents can no longer care for themselves, girls are often the children who stop going to school in order to care for their parents and the family. In places where the HIV infection rate can be as high as forty percent, people can feel so stigmatized by their status that they refuse to leave their home at all. One woman who ran a Lutheran ministry that supports AIDS patients in Colombia told of families gathering when someone is diagnosed with cancer. Support is shown, love is shared. They circle the wagons to protect, support and love one of their own. When someone is diagnosed with HIV, it is conflated with morality and no one gathers. The infection is sometimes even assumed to be punishment from God for not following God’s law.

Psalm 19 really challenged me to try to see where is God’s law here. These are not situations that inspire the rejoicing we see in this Psalm. Souls are dying, not reviving. Eyes do not seemed to be enlightened. Instead we seem to be feeling around in the dark for a solution.

This is not God’s law. This is mistaken as God’s law. But, because the stories of love and care are not voiced, these oppressive theologies remain intact. This evens happens here. Men in the early stages of the epidemic here didn’t always know how to deal with the disease through their faith. It is not unheard of that someone would stop life saving treatment because they saw their disease as punishment from God for their homosexuality. Needless lives were lost because we didn’t give voice to God’s law. Today, African Americans are the fastest growing group of new infections in this country, and AIDS is the leading cause of death for African Americans between the ages of 25 and 44. Where is the voice of the church, speaking God’s law into this situation?

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told us he came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. How did he fulfill it? By healing the sick, associating with the outcast, touching lepers, talking to women, welcoming children.

To fulfill God’s law in the struggle of women and the fight against AIDS, whether here or abroad, is to stand with those who suffer, do what we can to ease their suffering, and speak God’s love into the spaces that we can. We can always be better at doing that as individuals and as communities. The church can be better at doing that. When we approach these issues according to the law of God, we bring the transformative love of Jesus Christ into the world, enabling us to live in hope.

God’s work has to be recognized for us to see God’s law and live accordingly. So is true of the work of women. We must see the work of women to be able to respond and empower them in accordance to the laws of God, not the laws of men. One cannot happen without the other.

When we recognize the work of God, when we live by God’s law, we can approach these problems, support women in their work, care for those with AIDS and empower them to live fully as God calls them to, then our eyes will be enlightened, our souls revived, and we will rejoice. When we recognize God’s true law in the love of Jesus, life will taste sweet, dripping with the finest honey from overflowing hives.

And so I close with that hope, and the prayer at the end of this Psalm: may God clear us of hidden faults, that we may be blameless and innocent. May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, the love of our souls and the work of our hands be pleasing to God, not just within our faith communities, but in the world. Amen.

Work to do

Yesterday, I had the privilege of sitting in on the language recommendations negotiations for the Agreed Conclusions of the Commission on the Status of Women at the UN.

Tiny bit of background: the CSW does not write treaties that have the weight of international law. They simply make policy recommendations.

So, it seems to me that there is little risk involved in using strong language. What is the harm in being hopeful about what our country can do in terms of gender equity in general and equal sharing of responsibility for care giving in particular? Apparently a lot.

The three or four times we heard the US delegation speak, it was to weaken the verbs. For example, they want to change "ensure the protection of workers" to "strengthen the protection ..."

Really??!!?! These are just recommendations! What is wrong with recommending the protection of workers as opposed to recommending you do a little better job at protecting workers? I can think of way too many snide, snarky and cynical answers to that question.

The bottom line: we are not a global leader for gender equity. Far from it. There is plenty of work to do and I am in for the fight.

reunion

when you see a friend you were once intimate with, years after that intimacy, there is often a warming up period. feeling each other out. seeing ho the other person has changes. testing to see if old patterns still work. and after a little bit of time, you get in the groove. you smooth out the awkwardness. you sit closer. you lean in. you move in ways that feel familiar and new at the same time.

art and i are this way lately.

there were times in my life, lovely privileged times as an art student, when i went to three or hour art museums in a couple of days. or gallery after gallery. or returned to the same show just to sit in the presence of a piece i had built a relationship with. and yet, i haven't spent time looking at art, strolling through images, swimming with colors, wrestling with concepts, for months. the dry spell has been too long. and so as i approached the armory show today, i stumbled through the first awkward moments. but then, i was addicted to the relationship again. despite my feet hurting, my tummy growling, the crowds, the prices, the pretentiousness, i kept going and going. just one more row of galleries. just around this corner then i will leave. just... just... just...

the original armory show towards the beginning of the 20th century introduced the united states to modern art. this was before we fancied ourselves as the center all of things art. it was groundbreaking. it was moving. it shattered perceptions of the visual, perceptions of culture. the changes it brought reached far deeper into american culture than just fine art.

the current armory show (international fair of new art) does not live up to that radical ideal, but it is likely the most interesting collection of current art i have ever seen. at first i was confused... there are two piers that included work--92 and 94. 92 held modern work... and it was ok. there were exciting pieces that were new to me, but much of it was mediocre examples of incredible artists. i almost left before hitting pier 94. 94 held all the new art. this is a show i would come back to new york to see again... just for this. galleries from at least three continents were present (they could have been a little more gobal than they were) but i felt challenged and inspired by what i saw. people are pushing the boundaries, reinventing what we thought was old and traditional (kinda like we are doing in the church). asia seems to be the new center. from my perspective, american art it no longer on that front edge. it will be interesting to see if another city replaces new york in this century the way new york replaced paris in the last century.

blah blah blah. i realize i sound self-important and like i know more than i actually do. i apologize. it comes form love and admiration. and the hope that i can learn to push the envelope artistically too.

my first day at the united nations

overwhelmed does not even begin to cover it.

after getting a temporary UN badge, i turned a corner and was greeted by a chagall stained glass window. took my breath away.

"The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes. "

psalm 19:8

the theme of this commission on the status of women is the equal sharing of care giving between the genders, particularly in the context of HIV/AIDS. we sat in a room among women on the ground in the middle of the pandemic in Africa who were asking women in the north (their label, not mine) in the churches to use the power of their voices to ensure that funding gets to the women doing the grassroots work. i didn't realize my voice had that kind of power.

listening to the delegation appointed by the new presidential administration--who have begun work but still have to be confirmed by the senate--i was deeply aware that our country has already made changes. climate change is being dealt with differently. family planning in global conversations is being dealt with differently. the intersections of the economy, housing, health care, jobs are understood and none of the problem are being dealt with in isolation. the voices of the NGOs in the room were heard and some brilliant women from many sectors are working in the united states on these global issues.

we sat in a conference room, listening to ear pieces, hearing statements from delegates from all over the world--new zealand, burkina faso, cuba, united kingdom, paraguay, the democratic republic of the congo. my first time in a diplomatic space, i had to reorient my thinking about what i was hearing. at first, i felt like i was being sold a used car, being told versions of the truth. then i realized what was at stake, and at least this conversation was being had. there are other places in the UN to hold governments to account for what the say and the promises they make in these hopeful statements.

after all of this, sitting in the UN chamber, where colin powell told the international community that iraq had weapons of mass destruction, where the president of iran criticized the last administration, where the seats rotate so that no countries have priority, i started to think about the way we are challenged to be. gender equality is God's way, it is God's law. the value of each individual's rights, talents and contributions as God made us is God's way, it is God's law. when those laws give birth to the beautiful movements i saw today, all around the globe, my heart is filled with joy and my eyes are enlightened.

the law of the Lord is perfect...

... reviving the soul. psalm 19:7

i am at the united nations commission on the status of women in new york this weekend. being able to even be in the presence of an international conversation like this is beyond my dreams in so many ways.

i arrived this evening, just in time for the de-briefing dinner of ecumenical women, who gathers all the faith-based advocates for cooperative work. they used lots of lingo i didn't understand, and i felt lost, in a strange position of limbo in the church. but hearing a woman from halfway around the world express humor-filled frustration at being at a bible study full of patriarchy and without context showed me that there is so much for me to be inspired and empowered by this weekend. i hope to have many of my inner myths busted and to continue to grow in the way i understand the world i hope to minister to.

when i return, i will preach on psalm 19 at bethel presbyterian. reading it this evening, i realized that the presence of many (all?) of the Christian women here in the spirit of this psalm. knowing that the law of God is good and just--to all people, women and children equally included--they are fighting for a world where those laws are upheld.

the preaching life

on sunday, i preached on the setting of the beatitudes and was surprised what i found. i didn't look at my notes, once, but spoke from my heart and what the Spirit had prepared for me (i hope it was the spirit?)... and i wonder, because it was a short sermon, that missed some of the "points" i wanted to make, and it was without well crafted words, if this is what i should do, or if i should be preaching straight from polished transcripts...

thoughts?

here are the ntoes i constructed that i didn't use...

Having grown up in a fairly standard Presbyterian church, and going to Sunday school every week until middle school, there are few Sunday school lessons I remember. They all blur together. But, the Beatitudes I remember. We learned about them in second grade I think, and we each were assigned a Beatitude. Then we had to draw it. Using little symbols, we had to express the words of the Beatitude in picture. I had "Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God." So, obviously I drew a heart, and some eyes. I don't know how I got pure across, that is tough one. That little exercise burned those words onto my heart. Ever since then, the Beatitudes have been central to my understanding of God... and yet I am not sure I understand them at all.

These first two verses are the brief introduction to the Beatitudes, and the whole Sermon on the Mount, a defining teaching for many Christians. This is the Gospel within the Gospel, the Word within the Word. And it was taught on a mountain, not in a synagogue, not in a temple. Just before Jesus goes up the mountain, we hear that he had been teaching in the synagogues and healing people. The crowds that followed him grew and grew. And he went out to them.

The setting of the mountain is very important. As we see from the Old Testament readings today, God showed up on the mountain a lot. It is where God gave Moses the law. God called Elijah on a mountain. Micah encourages his people to go to the mountain to learn. Matthew was aware of this tradition, and so Matthew places Jesus firmly in the context, in the narrative of the great Jewish prophets. Luke tells this same story, but sets it in the valley. Luke's is a sermon of the plain not a sermon on the mount. Matthew deliberately places Jesus in this tradition that includes the giving of the law to Moses on the mountain. But, at the end of the Beatitudes, we hear that he didn't come to abolish the law, or to bring a new law, but to fulfill the law. He is not as second Moses, rather he is the very embodiment of the law of God that can teach us how to draw closer to the God who loves us.

During Lent, we renew, recommit, reflect, and repent. This can be a dark process. We remember the temptation of Jesus during this time. It is not pretty to face our failures, our weakness and even our inner ugliness. Ash Wednesday can be painful. But, Jesus offers hope.

This is the very story of the incarnation. Jesus went to the people where they were, as they were. When he saw the crowds, when he saw the multitudes, he went to them. He did not invite them into his house, into his temple, or into his church, he went to them. He did not invite them into a space that had limits, that would fill up, cutting off people from his message. In the tradition of Moses, of Elijah, he went to encounter God and teach about God on the mountain where everyone could here and see him, and encounter God for themselves.

In the same way, God, in the very incarnation of Jesus Christ, comes to us, meeting us where we are—even if it isn’t on the mountain—reaching out a hand, teaching us from wherever we stand. God continues to come to us, again and again and again by the movement of the Holy Spirit among us. God loves us too much to let us remain as we are, where we are. God comes to us to help us grow.

Whenever we recognize the presence of God teaching us, we have been to the mountaintop and sat at the feet of Jesus.

At the end of his life, at the end of his last public speech, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. expressed this reality of faith better than I can express it now. He said:

"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter to me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop... I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "I've Been to the Mountaintop"

Think about those times when you have encountered God, and that encounter taught you something. Reflect on the places where God has come to you and taught you something new. What are you mountaintop experiences? But don't let it stop there.

During this season of Lent as we seek to learn from the Beatitudes, let us travel to the mountaintop, sit and the feet of Jesus, see our promised land and open ourselves up to his teaching that will get us there.

so it begins

in the last year, it has seemed that my life has followed the pattern of the liturgical year. during advent, i felt pregnant with the possibilities of my future ministry. now, i feel called by the purposes of lent.

recommitment.

renewal.

repentance.

i am on the cusp of transition, but fear i will lose myself before i make the change. i have been up and down and in and out with my faith and my call in the last three years. some days, some moments, i can articulate that journey, other days and moments, i hardly even notice the path. i need to recommit to this calling i chose to prepare for as i actually enter it.

i teeter on the edge of burnout. i feel like i am putting out fires all week, only to start with new fires at the beginning of another week. i have spent most evenings in the last two weeks on my couch with my laptop, writing paper, writing eZines, writing emails... after days full of running around. i find myself occasionally overwhelmed by the have-to's and thus unable to address the want-to's. i know i just need to finish school, and then readjust, but i do think i can change now. there is a way to make this work. i want to find it. i want to be renewed for the rest of the seminary journey.

i was recently told that i am often an abby-like blur on campus, rather than the full presence of myself. when i become that blur, it becomes all about me. what i need done. who i need to talk to. what steps i have to take to get ordained. which hoops i am jumping through this week. what is my theology, my vocation, my call, my context, my tradition, my, my, my. what about ours? what about my family? my friends? my neighbors? my community? i confess to navel gazing and hope to repent through this lent season. i don't know if my blog is the place to do that. i am not sure. i hope to blog everyday, because it is a reflective practice, and lent is also about reflection. but, it ain't about me. it's about God.

i will try to walk that tension for the next forty days. let me know how i am doing and what your suggestions are for turning my gaze upward, and outward for these last few months of seminary.

sabbath, yes i preached on that.

i thought it was funny i got assigned "sabbath" as a preaching topic in mbcc's last series of faith words.

we always preach to ourselves first.

i finally get it. as i feel overwhelmed and overworked on my birthday, less excited that usual about what is ahead, i realize i need a sabbath. not just a day of rest, but a structure to live in that includes faithful rest. this will be what i try to take on for lent.

til then, here is the sorta transcript of the second version of my sabbath sermon that i preach at fruitvale presbyterian this past weekend.
____________________________
"hallowed time"

- Talk about M. and how she taught me how to spend time with God.
* Taking time anywhere to focus on God
* Building particular moments for God makes even the ordinary moments in her life directed by faith. It’s all about the structure you build.
* Islam has no Sabbath, no day of rest of worship, and dspite these differences, she taught me about Sabbath, about the importance of spending time with God.

- Let’s look at Jewish structure. Jewish tradition:
* Sabbath liberates. Deut. 5:12-15 connects Sabbath to Jewish history and remembering God’s freeing power.
* Sabbath is woven into the very history and identity of the Jewish people. Heschel says: “The seventh say is the exodus from tension, the liberation of man from his own muddiness, the installation of man as sovereign in the world of time.”
* Sabbath here is defined most thoroughly by what not to do. We are to remember the work of God in our rest. Heschel encourages the shift from focusing on the results of creation in our work lives to focusing on the mystery of creation in rest, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
* The constructive instruction we are given regarding the Sabbath is to keep it holy. The Hebrew word for holy means literally “set apart.” We are to dedicate this time to God, to remember God in this time, but we are also to set this time apart. Contemporary Jewish practice sets apart Shabbat time in particular ways—prep for Sabbath, prayer and worship, lighting candles at the beginning and the end.
* Setting apart this time builds a structure for the week. Part of the week is spent preparing for Shabbat. We all know it takes a lot of work to take a vacation, or to catch up after returning home. Shabbat is like that... requires preparation.
* So, if in our own practice, Sabbath time is oriented toward God, and the rest of our time is oriented toward Sabbath, then our structure has made our entire lives oriented toward God.
* This changes our faith. This makes time holy. This opens us up to the movement of God.
* So now what do we do with this tradition?

- We turn to Jesus. Jesus transformed the tradition.
- Retell the story a little. Lessons:
1. Jesus followed the spirit of the tradition. The disciples would not have been able to focus on God if they were focused on their hunger. Despite their plucking grains appearing to be work, Jesus knew that “work” would accomplish the goal of the Sabbath.
2. Sabbath is not about us. It is not just a day given to pamper ourselves, to take a day off, to indulge. Sabbath is about God, it is about seeing God and being God in the world. Sabbath is not an excuse to ignore suffering, rather it is an opportunity to perhaps see it more deeply and respond more compassionately.
3. God doesn’t stop moving on the Sabbath. We are told to rest, and to remember when God rested, but we are not told that God rests every seventh day. Jesus reminds us that God is still moving and working even when we are not.

Sabbath is not out salvation. Nothing we “do” saves us. Rather, Sabbath is a gift from God, a tool that Jesus taught us to use, that frees us from some of the tyrannies of this world and allows us to build our lives around God.

Calvin noted that when life is good, we forget God. When life is bad, we cling to God, suddenly remembering God’s presence when recently we lived as if God didn’t exist.

Through Sabbath practice, we never live in ignorance of God. We never forget.

Sabbath time is the frame and foundation of a house or a building, around which everything else is oriented. It holds up the roof, it stays strong in an earthquake, and all the details—from doors, to windows, to where it is best to hang pictures on the walls, depend on this structure. When we truly practice Sabbath, we fit the details of our lives into a structure built to honor, remember and worship God, and in doing so, we make not just our Sabbath time sacred, but all of our time sacred, directing our whole lives toward God.

Sabbath is not about a particular time or place. There is no right way to spend holy time with God. Jesus transformed the Sabbath tradition and calls us to do so as well. Find the clues, find the lessons, find the tools you need to build the architecture of your Sabbath. Do what you need to do to make time that turns you most to God, so that you might see God, not just in Sabbath time, but in all time. Like Jesus said in Mark… “Man was not made for Sabbath, Sabbath was made for man.”

amen.

self determination

in seventh grade, everyone had to do a project on a country of the world in geography class. we got to pick which country we studied, as long as no one else had already picked it. having always had a flare for and attraction to the obscure (or seemingly so), i chose sri lanka.

some of the things i learned from that project struck me so deeply that i hold onto them today, still probably fourteen years later. i learned that sri lanka was in a civil war that started the year i was born. i was amazed that a civil war could last so long. my only exposure to the concept was the war between the north and the south here, and by comparison, that seemed to be a neat and tidy war that wrapped up quickly.

i remember thinking about the tamil tigers and what they want. they are a minority, and want and equal voice. they didn't seem to be getting it as a part of sri lanka, and so they wanted the right to govern themselves. this seemed simple to me at the time. every one should get to exercise that right if they so desire. that is how our country was founded right? we wanted the right to self-determination, and we fought for it.

what i didn't understand in seventh grade, is that though that may be true, throughout our history, we have restricted the right to self-govern of other groups, lots of them, the world over. we keep sticking our nose in business where perhaps it just doesn't belong. even with that deeper knowledge, more complex view of the situation, the idealist in me still says that everyone should have the right to self govern. it affirms our most basic human dignity.

and so i am saddened to still see this island's civil war in the news. it has been this way since i did that project. every few months, an attack or a battle would be a big enough deal to devote a paragraph to the incident on the second page of the world section, hidden by the fold of the newspaper. the media claims the end of this war is in sight. but will the war really be over until everyone in that country feels like a dignified citizen with a voice? will our conflicts around the world end until that happens?

we only control our own destiny to an extent. in 2004, about 35,000 people died on this island in the tsunami. the waves did not distinguish between who was on which side of the conflict. the tsunami indiscriminately swept people to their deaths. in a world where this can happen, we crave control and agency over our lives. it gives us person hood, identity and a sense of stability.

how can we ensure that everyone feels like a person?

i am superwoman

erasing all evidence of myself from our last apartment, wondering why anyone ever prefers white walls to any color, and admiring the way that brushstrokes give life to the color "linen," i jammed alone to a playlist entitled "girls who kick ass" on my hot little iPod. it gave me the grace of alicia keys' superwoman.

everywhere i'm turning nothing seems complete

i have learned to pick up and move at the drop of a hat. me, who lived in the same home from age five (or four?) until college (and even returned for a post-wedding week with my husband while we waited to close on our house). i who just three weeks ago went to the second dentist i can ever remember going to. i have always loved to travel but have always needed a home. i have learned to make home in whatever corner of the world i occupy at the moment. but that doesn't totally fulfill my need for home, for roots, and now i find my self unsure of where those roots will go down and when.

still when i'm a mess, i still put on a vest with an s on my chest

settled or unsettled, out into the world i go. reading, writing, drawing, preaching, feeding, typing, listening, wondering, hearing, loving, learning, screwing up. but i don't go alone.

and all my sisters coming together saying yes i will, yes i can.

a year ago at this time, i was coming out of a seminary performance of the vagnia monologues that i helped produce. i was surrounded by women that i learned from, who inspired me, who make me want to be a better, and who have made me a better minister (when/if i get to have that title). reflecting on that, i realize how often when i struggle with who i am, what i am doing adn where i am going, i am not alone. all my sisters come together in my memories, in my bones, as i struggle, and it is by the collective power of their passion, compassion, love and strength, that i can say, yes, i will, yes, i can.

so even though i am not a part of a v-day celebration this year, i live grateful to all my sisters, and the women who have come before me, who have made me who i am and who give me the strength to muddle through to become someone better.

words in italics are some of the lyrics from superwoman. buy the song. seriously.

exposed brick

i have been to the dentist twice in two weeks, and will go back again this week. check up, step one of crown, and next week, step two of crown. ick. the good news is, i love my dentist's office. the people are great too, but i really do literally love the office.

it is in the middle of downtown oakland. from the outside, it is a non-descript store front with a very small sign. but, when you walk in, the space is warm and inviting. it is a mix of textures, and open and closed space. sitting in the dentist chair, i got to look (when i wasn't looking at the tv) at an exposed brick wall. on either side of me were standard office walls, but they only went up eight feet or so. after that, the space opened up into a second story criss-crossed by beams and capped off with a ceiling painted with a blue sky and scattered with skylights to allow as much natural, anti-institutional light to reach those nervous in their dental chairs. maybe space doesn't have this effect on everyone, but it certainly made my visit to the dentist much more pleasant.

looking at the exposed brick, i was recalling my favorite patch of exposed brick... in my cozy house in cincinnati. it was a re-develop by a community development corporation that strips the insides of the house down the to exterior walls, finishes the outside, finds a buyer, and works with the buyer to renovate the inside. our senior year of college, my most talented husband designed the inside of our first.

the fascinating part of this process was working with an existing shell, yet building something that reflecting who we were. the house was charming on its own. underneath the new walls as layers of wallpaper that date the different trends the structure has lived through. famous rookwood tiles surround an original fireplace. a second chimney, without a fire place, climbs the west end of the house. a stairway in the middle brings light from the third floor to the first. the rooms at the top of the stairs fit into the gables, filling the nooks and crannies with usable space under the sloped roof.

and that is just before the work was done. using all of this as resources to be transformed, my husband brought even more texture, even more light, even more life into the house. in the bedroom, he left the brick from the chimney exposed. by adding a bamboo floor and built in shelves, he created a room rich in texture that was hold together by the warm tones that the shelves, floor and wall shared. each room is like this--incorporating parts of the home's architecture that predated us into a new design that creates a richer environment for us to live in. without either the old or the new, there wouldn't be the dynamism that the house has.

so as i am pondering all of this in the dentist's chair, looking at my exposed brick wall and sweating the upcoming dental procedure, i wonder why it can be so hard for us to learn this lesson about the church. the architecture of our traditions are a rich resource that will inspire new, exciting, and fresh designs that allow a dynamic faith to live where nothing used to. this is what keeps the church alive across decades, centuries and millenia... the ability to incorporate the structures and details of the previous manifestation of the building into the new design of the community.

and yet, when the church is dying or dead, when it is on its last legs, nothing but a shell of what it once was, waiting for its next occupant, we hesitate to be creative. we hesitate to not just rebuild what was there before.

we should jump in, using what we have to inspire new, creative life that may only barely resemble the former manifestation of the church, but that will be no less glorious.

for awhile, i was pondering new church development (NCD) as my "call," after all, i am working for what was until recently an NCD and thrive on the space i am given to be creative and love making something from nothing. my artistic nature perhaps?

and yet, this rebuilding, this particular kind of architecture that requires the blending of the old and the new energizes me in a particular way. perhaps my call is to redevelopment/transformation/change making in existing communities... however you want to label it.

where i am

times of disorientation, when i feel more like staying where i am, than moving forward or backward. at least i know where i am now. it may be a mess, but it is my mess, my predictable mess, the mess that i understand. not long ago, i wanted to get out of seminary as fast as i could. now, i long for every last moment of every class, every last drop of insight, every formative relationship, every minute that i know that though i am in ministry, i am not the one in charge. i can always pass along the big stuff, the annoying stuff, the unmanageable stuff, to someone more capable.

this, it seems, may not be so sooner than i expected. but of course, i don't really know.

at the same time as i seem to be coming of age professionally (or on the verge of doing so), i am coming of age in new ways personally. the global economic shifts have caused personal shifts, and there is no one to pass the responsibility along to. i must deal.

i know where i am know. i do know where i will be or what i will be doing six months from now, and the fear has set in. it seems that times of fear are times when we might need our faith the most. can mine stand up? can it practically support decisions i must make about how much to spend or not spend, how long of a lease to sign, how to negotiate my future, when to grow up?

i am counting on God being bigger than my imagination right now.

exegesisfest09

ephesians 4:17-32 in my own 100 words or less:

The walk of faith sets us apart. No longer follow the crowd in the darkness of ignorance, alienation and arrogance. You learned of Christ, heard the good news and were taught to begin again, a fresh start, taking off the old and putting on the new. This new person was created by God—holy and in right relationship. Be true to this person—a sealed, baptized, believer in Christ—by giving truth, hard work, encouragement, love, grace and forgiveness, as God gave you, to each other for the growth and the good of the body of Christ.

ode to the public

a ninety year old african-american woman died, having seen president obama take the oath of office, but before his speech finished.

this i know from overhearing two folks (presumably family members) planning her funeral at a bar this afternoon.

this is why i love the public. if i had been studying at home, i would never have heard this story. i never would have gotten a deeper glimpse into the significance of the inaugaration.

most often when i see God, i am on the bus, on the BART, in a bar, in a park, in a coffeeshop, on the street.

i want to spend less time in my apartment and more OUT!

rev. dr. MLK mash-up

yesterday at MBCC, nick explored the word justice in his sermon, and i was charged with doing a communion liturgy (minus the magic must be ordained to say words) that integrated a remembrance to dr. king as well. and so, i can't claim original writing on much (if any) of this, but i mashed up john 13, online resources from dr. king, and a prayer from the book of common worship. let me know if you want the break of of what is what.

* * *

When we come to this table, we don’t always tell the whole story of the last supper. Often, we remember what Jesus did for us, but not what Jesus did for others.

In account of the last supper in the gospel of John, before they broke bread, Jesus wrapped a towel around his waist, poured water into a basin, and knelt at the feet of his disciples. Despite their protests, he washed each of their feet and said:

Do you understand what I have done for you? You call me teacher and Lord, but and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you should also wash one another’s feet. I have set an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. understood what Jesus did for us. He followed the pattern, and by doing so, gave us new ways to follow the pattern as well.

Listen audio from the King center here.

Let else develop the dangerous unselfishness that Dr. King encouraged and let it be fed by the Spirit of God present at this table.

Words of Institution/Breaking Bread etc. Bruce style

Serve communion

Prayer after communion:

God of grace,
you renew us at your table with the bread of life.
May this food strengthen us in love
and help us to serve you in each other.

Give us the strength to respond to this charge that Dr. King gave to us, the night before he died:

Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation.

We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord.

Amen.

behold a new thing

the 2009 earl lectures at approaching fast and the theme... behold a new things: emerging expressions of faithfulness... is frustrating me. i am pondering space design ideas for the lectures and for worship, and find my self frustrated because in fact, nothing seems like a new thing.

and the passage for the closing worship (the valley of the dry bones from ez. 37) is one i love... for its literal imagery. which seems to be getting me no where.

so yesterday, after a brainstorming meeting at PSR, i played with paint along this theme. it felt so good to get back into it. it has been months. i didn't realized how starved i felt until i was covered in paint.

here's what i've got. let me know what you think, or if you have ponderings.

presence matters

next to this image were the words "golden state warrior".

helicopters buzz over head. storefronts and apartment buildings are boarded up--even though they are in use. the day care center down the street that is usually buzzing at 4 pm stood silent this afternoon with a sign: either pick up your child no later than 3 pm or do not bring them today.

the sign worked. the art worked.

last night, johannes mehserle was arrested and charged with homicide--unusual when a police officer commits a violent crime.

another protest was planned for 4 pm today, with plenty of police presence and civil control planned as well. i had to be in san francisco this afternoon, during that time... but walked to 14th and broadway to take the BART at the very time it was scheduled to start. didn't see much. did pass the artwork above and a cnn truck. lots of posters with oscar grant's face, demanding justice and promoting the protest. no foot traffic that seemed different than a normal afternoon. not even a cop presence, despite warnings that 14th street would be shut down all day long.

on my way home, i could not get off at two of my three BART stations because they were shut down. the station i did use was again quiet, with the exception of the news helicopters above. the macdonald's that a week ago was under assult via trash cans was dark, with its customary drive through line all the way to the street.

still, at last count, about there were fifteen broken windows and thrity damaged cars this evening.

all of the details make a community. these small things create the atmosphere in which i live. andi have been pondering, how do the presence of these details impact what happens?

what if, instead of boarding up windows, we asked customers to come hang out in the store for the duration of the evening?... make a party of it. what if instead of shutting down streets, we invited neighbors to look after each others cars? what if instead of telling parents to stay away, we asked for more presence from friends, neighbors and parents to ensure that our children always have safe place to received love and care while their parents work?

presence matters. we jump for the negative presence when we are afraid and forget what a positive presence can do. how powerful would it be for the city to warmly and lovingly stand by its neighbors to protect our community? it would be a much better memorial to oscar grant than boarded up windows, damaged cars, and inaccessible transit. he deserves better.

do something

after my ridiculously long post, i decided to do something, and so emailed the mayor, the BART board of directors, and the BART police chief. PLEASE join me and do the same. ask for justice. I got all the info to do that here, from Colorlines.

even if you do not live in the bay area, it matters that you can about this, that you are paying attention to this. if you are from cincinnati, urge them to learn from our mistakes.

in memory of oscar grant III

on january 1 of this year, perhaps even the first homicide of the year for oakland, a young man died with his face against the concrete on the platform of the fruitvale BART station.

from a gunshot wound.

from a cop's gun.

in his back.

i mourn the death of oscar grant the third. i grieve that his four year old daughter will grow into an adult without a father. i weep that his family is missing a son, his friends are missing a buddy, his church is missing a piece of their community, the world is missing him.

the same city and saw erupt on nov. 4 over the election of our fist african american president, i see erupt over the murder of a young african american man.

but what strikes me most is the familiarity of what is going on around me. in 2001, my senior year of high school, timothy thomas died from a gunshot wound to his back, from the gun of a cop named steven roach, on the streets of cincinnati. he was wanted for traffic violations. roach is still a cop, though no longer with cincinnati police... out in the burbs.

for cincinnati, as for oakland, it did not stop there, as it shouldn't.

thomas was the fifteenth in a string of deaths (not all shootings) of black men at the hands of police in about five years. what followed his death, and the subsequent inaction by the city, is alternately called protests, unrest, or riots, depending on your perspective. it made national and international news as race riots. there was marching. there were cops in riot gear, using tear gas, shooting crowds with bean bags. the city was put under curfew. information was incomplete even from close by. who knew if the news was telling the real story. as a high school student, i was unable to go to the neighborhood center where i usually tutored, as it was in the heart of the impacted neighborhood. i was frustrated that my parents and teachers would not let us continue to do what we do. i was fearful for the people i knew and loved in that neighborhood, but i sat comfortably far away. i was afraid of the cops. i had once walked through the riot cops downtown as they waited for protests against the WTO. not a protestor, downtown with my mother, we felt harrassed by one of the cops in his full gear.

but, the effects of the death of thomas, the pattern of abuse of power by the cincinnati police, and the community's response went far beyond that week in april. a significant rift, serious distrust, deepened between the police and the community. businesses in the impacted neighborhood took years to recover. and the deaths stopped. i do not know of a death at the hands of cincinnati police since (i could be wrong, i did move away). a liaison commission was set up between police and community, and this summer, when the NAACP met in Cincinnati for their national convention, they applauded the growth of the cincinnati police department. cincinnati is moving, growing and changing.

when i heard about the death of grant, i couldn't help but remember timothy thomas. when i heard that a peaceful protest shut down the fruitvale bart station, i was relieved that oakland seemed to be handling the rage better than cincinnati did. i thought this would be different. i thought that this powerful and organized community would be able to generate change and justice.

memory is often poor. in my emotional reaction, i forgot that the "riots" in cincinnati started this same way. looking out my window at a line of cops in riot gear moving down my street (where i didn't see any protesters), i remembered in my bones, the fear that i felt at eighteen. only this time, the cops were coming down my street.

theoretically, the cops were there to make me feel safe. to protect the people in the neighborhood from the mob in the streets. but what about when those in the neighborhood those the cops are protecting, are outraged too? also want justice? knowing what i saw in cincinnati, remembering the first time i came face to face with riot cops, i am much more fearful of the cops than i am of the protesters, than i am of the community.

the cops "have control" according to the news. the protesters are dispersing. they left my street because the mayor himself showed up on the street corner, not a hundred yards from my window, to talk tot he protesters, to walk with them, to try to negotiate in person. i never heard of anything of the sort coming out of city hall in cincinnati in 2001.

there is an investigation or two of three going on into grant's death. but, it has been a week and BART, the employer of the cop who pulled the trigger, "has not had a chance" to get a statement from him. and now he has resigned, and they have no way to talk to him.

on behalf of the family, a $25 million dollar wrongful death suit has been filed against BART.

through all of this, i have been pondering what justice is in this case. oscar grant III can not be brought back. his daughter will never again have a father. theories have been tossed about that the officer may have thought he pulled his tazer, and so the shooting was an accident. would that explanation bring any relief if it were true? would it be better for the officer to admit fear, aggression, or another motive for the shooting? will justice only be done if the officer is behind bars, if the family gets a $25 million payment? i do not know what can fix it... and i am a mere observer from afar. i cannot imagine what would "fix it", make it right, give to each their equal due, for those close to grant.

i do know that each and every one in this community should not stand for the death of anyone at the hands of cops, especially those most vulnerable, most likely to be murdered by those in power--young black men. no one in this country should stand for it. we should all be outraged. we should all demand justice.

My cloud

Therefore since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Hebrews 12:1

I am not a big fan of the artwork of jim dine but went in high school to a large retrospective at the cincinnati art museum anyway. Always in these situations I am surprised, because there i encountered a painting that has lived in my heart for the better part of a decade. It embodied this text from Hebrews. Though I cannot recall the title of the work, I can picture it clearly and recall the exact emotions of standing before it. It was almost exclduvely black paint and from far away recalled a swarm of bees or a giant flock of birds. Close up, the viewer sees that those birds of bees were names... Jim Dine's cloud of witnesses.

Being in the nati and Indy reminded me of the many many overlaping clouds that support me from that part of the world. returning to cali reminded me of the clouds that have formed here, much to my delight. without amy of these clouds, I would big be whom I am. Without all of them, I would be nothing.

So to all of you who are in those clouds in big and small ways, thanks for bringing me this far and I know that you will carry me farther, making the rest of the race possible

blog drought

post my attempt at blogging daily (i went 18/24), i was feeling written out. trying to write daily was harder for me than i thought. making time for God daily was harder than i thought (and i thought it was hard), but trying to helped me to figure out how to integrate that time into my day. praying during the commute, looking for the voice of God around me, finding joy in worship, etc.

yet it has been over a week since i have posted. i am re-adjusting to being at home in california, preparing for greek intensive for the next three weeks, and making a good attempt at not working much over those same three weeks. and so the blog slid to the background. as i try to get back into the swing, bear with me. for the time being, i present my recent adventures in liturgical art. first advent...
and my current in process project. communion table dressing for a series on the word of God inspired, lived and proclaimed...