going home

back in the midwest, i was glad to drive through corn fields the other day. it was oddly comforting.

and last i drove to an ice cream shop where i wasted hours upon hours hanging out (my best friend in high school worked there) to meet a good friend i have known since i was thirteen.i took less than five minutes to drive there from my parents house... with traffic.

i used to think that was so far away.

geographically and metaphorically... it used to be a small world for me. i can't believe the way it has expanded in the last two years since i have lived in california, the last three since i graduated from college, the last seven since i finished high school and the last eleven since i started high school. whew!

and yet, coming back home know involves a kind of culture shock as well. i go to a church event i find myself one of three out of ten under the age of forty-five. i crave fresh produce and salad that i eat all the time in cali. i roll my eyes when i drive a distance that in downtown oakland would be absolutely silly not to walk.

and from here, i will embark on another journey saturday morning, to the dominican republic. in someways, it is a journey home as i will be spending a week with folks who i remember from church when i was little, folks who played softball with my dad, whose kids i went to high school with. in some ways it will be a vacation, because i have no leadership role, no responsibility, the details have been covered and had nothing to do with me... a long time since i took a "mission" trip where that was the case. and in someways it is a retreat, a chance to spend real, intentional time with God... time i should make more room for in my daily life but have a hard time doing.

the fab four

this afternoon i saw them much anticipated (in may life anyway) sex and the city movie. i was once asked by someone who knows me quite well, why... if i don't necessarily buy into the labels and the fashion and the "stuff" sex and the city revolves around... do i like it so much?

carrie came out and said it in the movie. "why are we able to write our own vows but not our own rules?" sex and the city is one of the few places in pop culture where the nuance of what women can be allows us to write our own rules.

i know that is many ways it also re-inscribes rules about gender and sex that do damage to people as well... but i am of the camp that little if anything is life is all good... so i will look for the good where i can get it.

so i am off to write my own rules.

in solidarity...

so i will not be in the bay area sunday for the AIDS walk... which i am starting to get a feeling is a major sin in my church (if we have any).

so in solidarity, sunday i will take a walk in the dominican republic... i can't guarantee length or any of that, but my heart will be in it and my spirit will be in sf with 25,000 other walkers.

here is where you come in.

click here to donate to our team... every little bit counts.

AIDS is a fight we can win, and in the bay it happens one step at a time.

does john lasseter have a facebook fan club?

i am a sucker for pixar movies. i am not joking when i say if i thought they would hire me, i would drop everything and even empty their garbage (can you imagine the art in their garbage cans?)... john lasseter is my hero.

last week, i heard a sermon on the love chapter in first corinthians, and yet i learned more about love from a animated robot. wall*e thought beyond himself, to the needs of another, and the needs of the greater good, even when he had the chance not to. it was love.

and if you have not seen it yet, make sure to check out the credits. an art history lesson for the cost of a movie ticket (cheaper than my college tuition...) that dispells any ideas that the boys and girls who play at pixar all day long are not artists.

just be

i have the privilege of working with a group called youth spirit artworks to develop ways that they could partner with students at the graduate theological union. ysa works with youth in south and west berkeley, through berkeley technical high school, to make art... selling it so the students make money, and guiding them in finding their voice and creativity. doing this "research" has taught me soo much i feel blessed to have the opportunity.

as i wondered what to do with this summer (this being one of the projects i am DOing), it was all about what i could do, do, do. and then i reflect on how a large part of living god's call to just... that loving kindness walking humbly bit... is simply about being. being presence. being love.

this is something i am terrible at.

i have so much to "do" all the time (entirely my fault, by the way) that if i am no "do"-ing, i feel useless, unproductive, and simply not valuable to myself or others. and yet, when i think of the real places i have "value" in life... as a friend, as a family member, as a community member, the valued part comes from just being.

as i try to spend time with youth spirit artworks, the challenge for me is just being. not having to be painting. not having to be interviewing. not having to lead. simply being with the students, and being with the program.

the summer is half over. i am about to leave on a mission trip (another place RIPE for possibilities and opportunities to practice this just being thing) but there is still time to try to be and not do.

final GA reflections

do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.

rev. diane l. givens-moffett preached at worship on the last friday of general assembly. her words have been with me ever since:
"courage is born from a deep seated commitment to God's call, not just in the sweet by and by but in the nasty here and now."

what does the commitment mean for me? i am in the process of discovering this, but have a new understanding of the "public" role of pastoring. this does not mean you are a spoke person, or a representative for some community, but rather that you are deeply engaged in communities that you are a part of--and communities that are different from yours. that humble walk is not about you but about God, and as such should be filled with compassion.

it is common to assume that any kind of public role requires a "thick skin." things will be said and done that are probably hurtful to anyone in any kind of community engagement. to the extent that a thick skin means that i do not take things personally, it is a good. but, to the extent that it kills, suppresses or covers up the compassion and love that flows from creation by God and relationship with God, a thick skin is not a good. Parker Palmer helped me to realize that i can deeply engage in the public life and retain my "softness"... there are other ways to protect my selfhood. but, as rev. givens-moffett reminded me, it is a walk, a journey that requires significant courage.

i find myself back in a "church" job and working in new capacities within the domination. i have new opportunities to engage in my communities, as well as new needs for courage to make that engagement possible. here i go!

first african baptist church, savannah

a story of true faith and the power of non-violent love...

the first african baptist church in savannah was (calls itself... they may be others clambering for the title) the first african american congregation in the united states. the second pastor, rev. bryan, preached what he felt called by God to preach. at the time, though masters and other whites "allowed" slaves to preach, they heavily monitored the content of the sermons. of course, they did not want anyone to preach freedom. the rev. bryan preached what he wanted... and paid dearly for it. he was taken to franklin square in savannah and beaten publicly. he swore he would die before he would stop preaching the gospel. the judge in charge of his case was so moved that he allowed rev. bryan to preach whatever he wanted outside of the city limits. in order to not lose control, the judge still sent deputies to spy on his prayer meetings. when they deputies reported back, they said the rev. was praying for the men who beat him. as a result, the rev. bryan was given permission to preach in the city limits again.

this story, told within the walls of this historic church, bought with money slaves saved to buy their freedom and donated instead, built over four years by slaves who could only work at night, over a basement that housed slaves on the underground railroad, in front of a pulpit MLK jr. once preached from, gave me an entirely new perspective on what it means to be prophetic and faithful.