Reading Challenge 2008

I think I missed something along the way, but I can't remember what it was.  So I'm trying to get back on track...

When I went to join my grandparents for a few days in the Wisconsin Dells, I forgot to take a book with me.  (I know--shocking! but I packed in a hurry on a Sunday afternoon, post CROP walk, so I cut myself some slack...)  Then it rained one day and we decided to forego the International Crane Foundation and to stay in eating fudge.  So clearly I needed a book...

I was planning to read The Other Queen soon anyway, so I picked it up at the local bookstore.  I ended up napping most of the rainy day away but I finished the book at home over the weekend.  It's very Philippa Gregory--well researched and written.  It's a different style than I think she's written before--written as first person accounts from the various people in the story, so you have to pay attention to the title of each chapter as it tells you who's speaking.  It definitely told the story of Mary Queen of Scots in a different and catchy way!  

All in all, a good fluff book.  and it wasn't all fluff--it was more timely than many historical novels are, as this novel explores what happens when a leader governs from a place of fear--what principles, what ideals, what people get sacrificed to maintain that fear?  hmmm...

Of course then I went to Philippa Gregory's website and discovered that I somehow missed TWO of her novels, which I promptly put on hold at the library.  As soon as I can get some free time, I'm escaping to the land of beautiful gowns and court intrigue!!

blog action day: poverty

Today is Blog Action Day 2008: Poverty.  Bloggers are asked to address poverty in their posts to raise awareness and to start discussions that might ultimately lead to solutions, however small, to this global problem.  Warning:  this post is long.  Very long. 

I spend a lot of time and energy thinking about, praying about, and talking about alleviating poverty.  I give to organizations that try to alleviate poverty.  I take youth on mission trips so they can see and experience and maybe even help a little.  I meet people who need assistance and hear their stories and sometimes I'm able to help them.  

I don't spend a lot of time telling my own story, as it seems oddly self-indulgent and often seems irrelevant.  I'm not sure that it is, though, and in fact it may be typical of a certain type of poverty.  So I'll tell it now and then perhaps y'all will know why I'm passionate about things like universal health care and social safety nets and quality education and equality.  Because all of those are components of poverty, both here in the USA and around the world.

My mom went to college in 1976 and wanted to major in Marine Biology.  She also played olympic-level field hockey.  The way she told it, at some point during her first year or two of college, she was told that "women aren't marine biologists"...and that she should go into nursing.  Which she did at some point (I don't think it was then--I think that was later, but I'm not sure).  But she never finished her bachelor's degree, in part because she was so discouraged by sexism.

I was born in 1980.  I don't pretend to know or understand the economic state of the country at that time, I just know it wasn't great.  I don't pretend to know or understand the financial situation of my family in 1980 either.  I do know that we weren't well-off--the years I remember (so, after age 3 or 4 probably) we lived in a single-wide trailer in a trailer park in a medium-sized town in Oregon.  I don't remember much about those years, honestly, except stuff about school.  I remember envying a girl in my 1st grade class because she had a beautiful big red coat and I knew I couldn't ever have something like that, but that's about all I remember money-wise.

When I was 8, with a 2 year old brother, my parents divorced.  My brother, mom, and I went to live with friends and then ultimately with my grandparents.  Our trailer was moved onto my grandparents' property 10 miles away from the nearest town, down in the Willamette Valley.  My grandparents raised sheep and we had our own garden.  We went to the grocery store occasionally but I don't remember it being often.  We did much of our shopping at the grocery outlet which was cheaper, and name-brand stuff didn't happen.  When I went through a white-bread phase (because the kids at school had it) my mom and grandmother tried to explain that it cost more and wasn't as good for me, but I insisted.  It turned out I didn't like it and I would be willing to bet there's still a half loaf of white bread in my grandmother's freezer.  Meanwhile, my mom was feeding my brother and I first, and eating less (or not at all) if there wasn't food left over.

We used food stamps, I remember.  It wasn't a lot, but it helped some.  My mom worked as a road construction flagger for a while, standing for hours in the sun and rain holding the stop/slow sign. I don't know what else she did, but sometimes she worked nights too.  I don't think the pay was good at all, and I know she clipped coupons religiously and waited for sales and made stuff rather than buying it.  My grandmother made many of our clothes.  I think there were welfare checks during these couple of years, but I don't know for sure.  When it was time to choose instruments in 4th grade so we could play in the band, I cycled through the list I wanted to play until I came to the clarinet--which is what I was going to play because the daughter of a friend of my grandparents had played the clarinet and was willing to sell us hers for a mere $60--much cheaper than renting or buying anything else.  So that was my option...and I played that clarinet through my senior year of high school (at school/football/basketball/pep band anyway).  I was a CampFire girl and my mom was our leader.  For summer camp, she worked as the camp nurse so I could attend, and that meant I got to go to all three week-long sessions (which I thought was the coolest thing ever--I was one of THOSE know-it-all kids who'd been there before....sigh).  For daycamp, she ran the camp so my brother and I could attend.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I'm sure that's how she paid for it (or got our registration fees comped).  (This involvement didn't end with CampFire--when we were older she coached little league and was the youth orchestra librarian and goodness only knows what else.)

My mom married again and we moved to Seattle.  Things seemed good but of course we had the oldest car *ever* and I was now a teenager who thought about these things since we lived in the big city!  This was when I started to figure out that we weren't middle class.  My mom went back to school and finished her degree in research psychology--a degree I don't think she ever used (except on me! and on reading studies and telling us all what to do...).

Dad lost his job in 1993-ish (I think that company may have gone under, I'm not sure) and we moved across the mountains--a devastating thing for a teenage girl who was SO SURE she was going to the best music high school next year...umm, not.  Mom worked in the school kitchens so she could be home when we were home--something that was very important to her, but probably limited her career choices significantly.

I went away to college and made some poor money choices (what college student doesn't?) that my parents graciously dug me out of again and again.  Meanwhile I was racking up the student loans just to pay my tuition/rent/food.  Thanks to my parents, who were still by no means well off, I didn't end up with student loans to cover my youthful  fiscal irresponsibility (the Starbucks they built next to the El stop was just brutal).  And I got a scholarship for grad school that meant I got PAID to go to seminary (nice).  

Then I figured out that we had to have health insurance--something I'd never had before and didn't know anything about but quickly figured out was more expensive than I (or my family) could afford.  I got a bare-bones student policy and thankfully never needed it.  My mom wasn't so lucky--she got cancer and had no insurance.  If she'd had insurance, maybe she would have gotten check ups, or gone to the doctor at the first sign something wasn't right, but instead she waited until she couldn't handle the pain anymore and by then it was stage 4 metastasized breast cancer.  The applications for medicaid or other state-run healthcare money were extensive.  The red tape was ridiculous.  My mother spent the majority of her last year of life on the phone trying to get people to agree to pay for radiation treatments and doctor visits.  It is my (not terribly informed, since I wasn't there in person, I only heard about it on the phone) opinion that her status as uninsured had a negative impact on the quality and frequency of care she received.  However, when she died we discovered that at the last minute she'd managed to get a grant or insurance of some kind that would cover the nearly $70,000 in medical bills we thought would come due.  Instead we had a small surplus with which to pay down some other loans, which was a nice surprise...but we'd rather have mom than the money.

I had the privilege of being supported by family and friends and mentors and colleagues while following my call--even as it changed--across three continents.  Now I have a good "job" with amazing health insurance.  I also have $30,000 in student loans, I have 3 more years until my car is paid off, I owe $146,000 on my house (meanwhile another, identical, unit in my complex is on the market for less than that), and I currently have about $20,000 in other debt (mainly from moving across and between continents, furnishing a house for the first time (remember when people did that when they got married and they used wedding presents for all that stuff? not anymore...), paying taxes that were higher than I prepared for, etc....).  In some ways I live paycheck to paycheck.  But I'm working on that, and that's not the point of the story.  I'll make it and the debt will be paid off eventually, and I'm hardly atypical for my generation.  And I'm no longer living in the situation I grew up in.

You may be wondering what the point is.  For now, it's this:  don't generalize about "the welfare system" or "the uninsured" or "the unemployed" or "those kids" or "irresponsible people" because it's unfair.  There are plenty of people who work hard and can't make ends meet.  There are plenty of people who lack insurance because they are supporting their children's educations in a variety of ways (extracurricular activities, college, etc).  There are lots of people who don't abuse the welfare system or food stamps.  There is real poverty in this country--poverty I haven't lived in and can't begin to understand, as well as the kind of poverty I have experienced (where some in the family simply do without so others can have what they need).  Children are often unaware of these things until they're looking back when they're older.  And children deserve to live in environments like mine--where they don't know they're different, don't know they're poor, don't know they're underprivileged.  Too many end up discouraged and the cycle continues, and that's not okay.  So I am passionate about equality, education, universal healthcare, and the social safety net we call welfare (as in "promote the general welfare" from the preamble to the constitution?).  Because those are things that allow the cycle to be broken.

The same thing applies to people in developing countries, where the situation is MUCH more desperate than most of us can imagine.  Equality and education and access to healthcare can improve the situation so much, it's hard to comprehend why we wouldn't support those things.  When women get an education, they are less likely to have huge families and more likely to send their children to school.  And then those children can break the cycle too.  

That's what I hope:  for a new cycle to begin.  One that assumes all people are valuable and deserve health care and education and equal rights and opportunity.  One that believes children should grow up without knowing they're "disadvantaged" or "at risk" because those become self-fulfilling prophecies. One that looks at people rather than stereotypes.  One that cares about people rather than money. One that is hopeful rather than cynical.  That's the cycle I try to live in.  You?

Friday Five: travel for work/not just for fun

I haven't played the RGBP Friday Five in a long time, but this seemed like a great week to get back in!  MotherLaura, who's coming to Chicago in a few weeks, says...

... for today's Friday Five, you're invited to share your experiences with the exciting, challenging world of business travel....

1. Does your job ever call for travel? Is this a joy or a burden?

I mainly travel to conferences and retreats, but also take youth groups to retreats and mission trips.  I like to travel, so most of the time this is excellent.  Though when it's leading a group of 20 teenagers, it can be less than excellent sometimes!

2. How about that of your spouse or partner?

Since I lack one of those....no.

3. What was the best business trip you ever took?

Hmm.....tough call!  this summer I went to a program week on Iona, which was technically continuing ed and therefore travel for work.  I had this plan to not do anything, just to sit and soak it all up, which lasted about an hour into the week because I agreed to lead music for each session.  It turned out wonderfully!  But anyway...I loved that trip.  when I lived in Egypt my whole group went to Bethlehem and Jerusalem for Christmas--to experience the church in a different place, etc--and that was also a pretty good trip in spite of the border crossing problems (I was held up for a long time due to Syrian and Lebanese stamps in my passport) and the theft of my camera by our taxi driver (my own fault since my purse fell under the seat and I didn't notice until after he was gone).  And last summer I led our church's high school youth on a mission trip to New Orleans and all went surprisingly smoothly (including flying down there, renting vans, and not getting lost!).  Last winter I went to Montreat for the first time to the BLAZE conference and was pleasantly surprised there too--meeting great people, having a blast laughing and playing games, going to fun workshops about social activism and theology in the movies, etc.  (that was more than one, or even more than a couple, "best" trips...sorry!)

4. ...and the worst, of course?

hmm...probably every trip to a Presbytery meeting.  Ever.  The drives are so boring and are often several hours, and the meetings are mostly awful.

5. What would make your next business trip perfect?

Aside from the high school youth fall retreat (which will be great), my next planned trip is back to the BLAZE at Montreat, this time with two of our volunteer youth leaders too, so I guess what would make it perfect is no delays, no snow or rain in Montreat, and plenty of time to recharge and learn new things!  

Come One, Come All--a sermon for World Communion Sunday

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Come One, Come All
Isaiah 55
October 5 2008, World Communion Sunday

Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;

and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. 

Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,

and your labor for that which does not satisfy?

Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good,

and delight yourselves in rich food. 

Incline your ear, and come to me;

listen, so that you may live.

I will make with you an everlasting covenant,

my steadfast, sure love for David. 

See, I made him a witness to the peoples,

a leader and commander for the peoples. 

See, you shall call nations that you do not know,

and nations that do not know you shall run to you,

because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel,

for he has glorified you.
Seek the Lord while he may be found,

call upon him while he is near; 

let the wicked forsake their way,

and the unrighteous their thoughts;

let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them,

and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. 


For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. 

For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,

and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,

giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, 

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

 For you shall go out in joy,

and be led back in peace;

the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song,

and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. 

Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;

and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial,

for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.



This, friends, is my favorite passage in all of Scripture. I sometimes think that if I could only have one chapter out of the whole Bible, this would be it. The promises here are so deep, the poetry so beautiful, God’s love so great, that I can’t imagine it can be improved on. I feel like every verse has something wonderful in it, and when you put them all together you get something like a big comforting quilt.

The trouble, of course, is that preaching on one’s favorite passage is extraordinarily difficult. Because I naturally want to make sure I point out for you all my favorite parts—I don’t want to leave anything out. And I want to delve deeply into every verse because they’re all so great. I want to help you all see why this is the best chapter in the whole Bible! But in 10 minutes or less, that’s awfully hard to do. So I’ve been struggling here, trying to figure out the answers to the two questions I always ask myself when planning and preparing for worship: What’s the good news for us here? And what’s the challenge for us here?

Well, the part of me that loves this text more than any other, the part of me that remembers that this is the chapter I clung to when my mother was sick and even more when she died three years ago this month, the part of me that remembers that this is the text my dear friend Calum preached on at my ordination, the part of me that wants you all to love it like I do, says “every single sentence here is the good news for us!” Come, God says. Come and eat. Come and be filled with good things. Come, hear what I have in store for you. Joy and peace and fulfillment. Just like rain and snow come down from heaven with a purpose, so do my words—they will accomplish what I hope. I am nearer than you realize. My thoughts and ways are so much higher than yours—and the things I hope are a still more excellent way. Come, all of you. Come and be filled.

That's good news if I ever heard it.

As for challenge…I think there’s plenty of that here too. God asks us a hard question: why do we spend ourselves—our time, our energy, our work, our money, our worry—for things that do not nourish us? This is the kind of question I don’t like to ask myself—especially in a week where I rewarded myself after a day long meeting with a trip to Ann Taylor. What is it that we need? And why do we try to fill ourselves up with other things instead? God calls us to come to the waters—come and eat, come and drink, come and be filled with good things. Yet so often we try to fill up on work, on friends, on anxiety, on building walls of separation that keep us safe but also cut us off from each other and from God. In essence, we choose empty calories rather than the rich feast God has in mind for us.
That is indeed a challenge.

But the questions are what are the good news and the challenge for us, and that’s where I’m having a harder time.

Where is good news in a week where our economy has come to the brink of collapse, when our leaders and leaders-to-be have argued about self-interest, when the country lost 159,000 jobs, when families in our nation are losing their homes and their savings...in a time children around the world are starving, when school kids are getting shot on the streets of Chicago, when bombs are falling, when people are scared to leave their homes because of genocide and war and war-mongering? I’m not sure that the world is actually any more worrisome than it ever was, but it certainly feels a little overwhelming to me.

What is the good news for us? What is the challenge for us?

Come, God says. Come and be filled. Others will come—others you don’t know. There’s room at this table for strangers and friends, for the anxiety-ridden and the care-free, for all who come, a place at the table. For my thoughts and ways are not your thoughts and ways. When rain falls, it waters the earth and plants grow and people eat. When I send out my word, it nourishes all creation and love grows and communities are fed.
There is both good news and challenge here for us, in our time and our place. There is grace, there is love, there is compassion…and there is a reminder that we cannot create God in our own image, we cannot assume God builds walls the way we do, we cannot limit God’s mysterious work to the way we think things ought to be done. Instead, when we leave behind those things that do not satisfy, when we refuse to spend ourselves on things that take rather than give life, then we come to the rich feast. But we bring with us all the needs of a broken world, all the prayers of our brothers and sisters around the globe, all the hope for peace and justice. And as we take a seat at the table, as we break bread and share the cup, we find ourselves turned around and facing a world where the feast here—and I do mean a feast, a nourishing meal with plenty to go around!—is more than enough. No more the mindset of scarcity, no more the small God we have created, no more the little bitty crumbs of bread that fall apart in the juice.

Today, as we come to this table just as people long before us have done, just as people in China and Palestine and Egypt and Sudan and Colombia have done, good news pierces the dark clouds with the tiniest ray of light. Come—here is bread, here is wine and water, here is nourishment for your body and your soul, here is strength for the journey—without money, and without price. This is no mere cliché, this is God’s grace, here at the table, for all of us. As we gather at this table, we gather with those near and far, people around the world celebrating this same sacrament, saying the same words, claiming that something holy happens here, believing that in bread and wine we are all made into one body, the body of Christ, sent for the loving of the world.

Thanks be to God!
Amen.

exodus visualized

I've been remiss in posting about our worship environment during our journey through exodus.  Better late than never I guess...I didn't get photos of the burning bush, but we set it up with red twigs (from a tree with red wood, I can't remember what kind), with red and gold fabrics in the bottom of the vase, in front of the communion table, and then on top of the table were many many candles, set up the way we often do for Taize.  It was gorgeous.  Then for the 10 commandments/kick-off sunday/communion sunday we had the woven piece (you'll see it again in the manna day photos) and of course all the communion stuff.  And then the rest is easily seen in photos...with the sinai in the background the whole time (and therefore the pulpit removed, all month long).

so we have the story of crossing the red sea/sea of reeds:

and we have the story of manna and quail:

And we have the story of water from a rock:

Can't wait to see what they've cooked up for World Communion Sunday!  I know the Sinai desert/mountains have gone, the "water" is safely stored away, and there's a world map tablecloth they're trying to figure out how to use.  Awesome.  Now if I would just get down to sermon writing....

time and calling...or, what I wish I'd written earlier.

There are things I wish I had said in my last post, but rather than edit it to make it appear as though I was more articulate than I really was, I thought I'd just add a second post on the topic.

I understand ministry as a calling.  I understand my entire life to be about proclaiming good news.  And I understand that sometimes that is uncomfortable and boundary blurring in terms of my "job" and "the rest of my life."

I also understand professional ministry to be about empowering and encouraging all followers of Christ to be ministers, to be proclaimers of good news with their whole lives, regardless of their job.

So I wonder about a standard for "professional Christians" that isn't the same as the standard we have for "laypeople", and I wonder about a model of ministry that implies that only the paid minister does the ministry.

I don't think I serve a church where I am the only one doing ministry.  I don't think I serve a church where people look to me as the one who "gets paid to do this."  but I think I do serve a church that is vibrant and growing and has a lot more people in it than I can care for on my own, and a lot more ministries and programs than I can maintain and administer on my own.  Especially since my administrative gifts are...umm, still with the Holy Spirit, waiting to be wrapped and given to me.

So if the task of a minister of Word and Sacrament is to preach and teach and celebrate, to empower and encourage others to care for one another and to share good news with The Other, etc etc etc, that sort of implies a couple of things.

1.  That the MoW&S is a whole, integrated person, one who is body mind and spirit, who loves the lord and the neighbor and even herself with all the body mind and spirit.  (secondarily, this implies that the person has the time to care for body mind and spirit, right?)

2.  That the MoW&S doesn't do everything and doesn't feel obligated to do everything, and does not have any sense of being indispensable--because at that point, the body of Christ is not healthy.

I don't think I'm in danger of number 2--I know perfectly well in my rational mind that the church will go on just fine if I take a couple of days off.  (I'm not sure about the administrator, but... ;-)  )  I know perfectly well there are people who can step up and help with things, if I'd just ask.  Which of course means that I'm in serious danger of forgetting:

3.  The MoW&S, in order to encourage and empower others in their ministries, needs to ask for help sometimes.  This also reminds people that ministers are people too, with needs and wants and a hope for balance in life.

I am, however, struggling mightily with number 1.  Where, in the midst of caring for people, preparing worship, writing sermons, building relationships, teaching classes, leading youth ministry (though I do have amazing adult leaders who are helping hugely here!), dealing with administrivia, etc etc etc is the time for nurturing my own spiritual life, caring for my body, enjoying my CSA (I have a fridge full of potatoes up here and a fridge full of onions down in the garage! I have bell peppers that need to be prepped and frozen before they get moldy.  I have a drawer full of carrots that's been accumulating for a month.  I have 3 huge bunches of basil waiting to turn into pesto.  You get the idea.), cleaning my house so my space is calming rather than stress-inducing, playing with my friends, etc?  If I can't balance this time, even if I love my calling and I love my people and I love the Lord, I hardly think I'm fulfilling my calling well.   

But time is scarce.  I tell youth they have to make choices, and their choices reveal their priorities.  I worry about ministers (and about me becoming one of these ministers) whose choices reflect a distortion toward "work" over the other areas of life (self-care, sleep, relationships, leisure, learning unrelated things, etc).  I'm afraid that might also reflect a model of ministry that is so pastor-centered as to lose sight of the fact that every Christian is called to live a life dedicated to God's glory, to working for the kingdom.  It almost presumes the pastor is the head of the body, rather than Christ being the head.  And, in many ways, I think that model may encourage compartmentalization within the pastor rather than integration of a whole person, body-mind-spirit.

Perhaps in addition to a sermon brewing on authentic community (which includes sharing the bad along with the good, rather than assuming we have to be shiny plastic people with everything pulled together when we come to church) there's a sermon about how we spend our time brewing as well.  I'm preaching this week on Isaiah 55 and am drawn to the first few verses that ask "why do you spend your money on that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?"  I wonder if that applies to my time wondering at all?

Okay, enough babbling.  early meeting tomorrow, 45 minute drive away.  must sleep...and not until 10.23 like I did today!!  I hope I am not getting sick--I've been sleeping longer and longer each day this week.  (sigh)  Send me happy thoughts away from the bacteria and viruses.  Shockingly:  I don't really have time to be sick!

PS, on fruitflies:  I took my grandmother's advice and put out a cup mostly filled with balsamic vinegar (she uses Apple Cider Vinegar but I lacked that), a spoonful of sugar, some dishsoap, and filled to the top with water.  Stir and let sit.  Fruitflies were all drowned in two days.  but my house smelled like vinegar for those two days.  The trade-off was worth it.

Now Crystal Lake seems to be in the midst of the plague of flies--there are flies everywhere (not in my house, thankfully, but everywhere else--church, restaurants, Starbucks, etc).  We don't know where they came from or when they're going away, but it's pretty crazy.  And they're big fat flies too.  Gross.

time

This is post number 1201 on my blog--wow!

I have been thinking a lot about time lately.  

This is probably obvious from my meltdown last week and the responses, and then the long lag between then and now...

In any case:  I know ReverendMother has written extensively about time on her blog and in a magazine, and her thoughts are, as usual, much more coherent than mine and much better theologically grounded.  But I've been thinking about it from the specifically pastoral perspective and wondering:

Is it really necessary and expected that pastors work this much?  I mean, really?  And if so, how do we model healthy boundaries, self-care, and relationship to time for others?  I live and serve in a place where many people work more than 40 hours a week, and many people spend upwards of 2 hours a day commuting, and people spend time at church as well.  How can I practice what I preach about using our time well?  How does one be a good steward of one's time?

One of the commitments of members of the Iona Community is to be accountable for one's use of time.  The rule asks that we ensure that we use our time not simply to work, but also for leisure, for family, for developing skills or acquiring new ones, for worship and devotion, for voluntary work - and for sleep!  So I will attempt to do that now...you all are my accountability partners.  I did a little math yesterday and discovered that if I continue to work at my current level, plus sleep 8 hours a night, plus exercise each day, plus travel to the places I need to (most days just home to gym to home to church and home again, but often to meetings in another town), plus take showers, then I'm left with about 27 hours in the week in which to cook, eat, read, play with my kitties, clean up my house, do laundry, do my grocery shopping, pay bills and read mail, talk to my friends, play WordTwist on facebook, do anything else at all, and generally relax.  I think I have discovered why the loss of our Crystal Lake Taco Bell has hit me so hard.  And why my house hasn't been vacuumed in two months.  And why I'm 6 weeks late on scheduling check-ups at the doctor's office.  And why I haven't talked to my family in weeks.  Not to mention why I'm having a little meltdown!  If we assume that cook and eat = necessities, then I'm down to around 13 hours a week for all those other things.  I am not convinced that's healthy, though perhaps it's more healthy than people in other situations, who don't have time to schedule for exercise or sleep.  I just don't function well without those things and have learned my lesson.

The average American watches 5 hours of television per day.  How is that possible?   I mean, I got rid of TV at my house because I wasn't watching it, and now I see from my time breakdown why that was.  Obviously the average American is either not reading at all or has WAY more free time than I do.  

I'm not sure what to think about the time problem. I know that I don't feel okay about working as much as I do.  I also know that I probably don't maximize my time in the office the way others like to--I tend to be a relationship builder so I spend time talking with people and put off the doing of stuff, which sometimes leads to me staying later than I would if I'd just shut my door and do it.  

How can I maintain some balance in my time?  And how can I encourage others to balance their time if I'm not able to balance mine?  I'm not convinced that this problem just "comes with the territory"--in fact, I think it's our duty as pastors to model healthy boundaries and good self care, not to work ourselves into the ground.  How can we love our neighbors if we don't love ourselves, right?

That was incoherent...I apologize.  Weird day.  And now....time to get ready for a debate party!  One of the best parts of my week...

better

Today was better.  Yesterday's meltdown seems to be over (for now) and I've solidified once again into something resembling a human being, and maybe even resembling a pastor.  I think some of the problem was overstimulated extrovert (which doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's not pretty....at least it's over quickly).  That was resolved by lots of sleeping in and taking walks instead of going to the gym, along with only going to church for the afternoon/evening blocks instead of part of the morning block too.  (yesterday that was unplanned, but on Thursdays I don't go in until 1 anyway.  And yet I still work 8 hours.  How is that normal?)

Total hours spent in the church building this week (Sun-Thurs):  51.  I haven't been keeping track of how many I've worked at home (answering emails, looking up worship resources for World Communion Sunday, etc).  I don't know how many hours I'm supposed to work in a week (I'm sure that's in writing somewhere...bwahahahahah!) but I'm pretty sure it's not more than 50.  I do know that 51 was the average I was working when I was meeting with my therapist though, too (I stopped going last winter), so I suspect this is normal for me.  I'm not convinced that I like it, or that I'm helping to model good boundaries or time stewardship, but at least I know that this week's work wasn't more than it has been.  Now, the no-days-off-last-week (not even Saturday) thing was no good, and probably contributed, but...what do you do when there's stuff going on and you need to participate? (answer:  take more days off the next week, dork!!  It's not like you're (read: I'm) indispensable.  Get over it.)

So anyway, thanks for all the well wishes and helpful words.  Y'all are awesome.  And special thanks to Cecily who retrieved me from work and made me eat two rootbeer floats at a park this afternoon.  :-)

Now I'm still mulling over world communion sunday...and tomorrow I'll be mulling at an international restaurant (yummy!!) and at Whole Paycheck where I'll be stocking up for the debate-or-no-debate party.  :-)

I'll try for some kind of deep thoughts...tomorrow.  Probably about time, but we'll see...

when fiction and real life meet

You know the young(est?) sister in the Secret Life of Bees?  The one who has a rock wall stuffed with all the prayers for all the world, the one who is particularly affected by suffering/tragedy/heartbreak/sadness/illness, even when it's just on the news or far far away?  (yes, the one who kills herself...leave that part out for now)

I feel sort of like her today.  Every little thing sends me into a meltdown.  Tourists still held hostage in Egypt.  people losing their homes.  hungry children.  magazines with women pastors on the cover pulled from LifeWay bookstores.  I mean, seriously.

But I'm not going to walk into the river, so don't worry.  And hopefully I won't end up crazy like when Buffy could hear the thoughts (and therefore the pain) of everyone around her...

more whelmed than I want...

I'm in that place of feeling overwhelmed--there is so much to do, so much going on, so many people to care about, and so little time to process.  In 3 days this week I've already worked 34 hours, and I still have two more days (long ones, too) to go.  There are many more people who need things ($$, gas cards, prayer, more prayer, classes, worship, meetings, more prayer, someone to talk to, etc etc etc) than I can handle on my own. I'm going on week 2 of headaches, though last week's was weird and very specific, and this week is cluster headaches around my right eye, so I doubt they are related.  I had a horrible dream this morning (all I'll say is this:  it wasn't a vegetarian friendly dream, it happened at church (weirdly), and my mom was in it.).  I miss my friends and am having one of those days when being single and living alone sucks.  I miss my mom today but can't figure out why today more than any other day.  I'm tired and I don't want to teach a class on predestination tonight, I don't want to argue about heaven and hell, I don't want to do anything except sit on my couch and cry and then pet my kitties.  My house has been taken over by fruit flies because I apparently had bananas that I forgot about in the fruit bowl (and which got covered up by a piece of foil so I couldn't see them) and I don't even have time to clean my house or deal with this problem.  

I, apparently, just want to whine and complain.  I haven't had a day where I've felt like this is a really long time.  Whine and complain, sure...I'm a pro...but crying and wanting a roommate and a housecleaner and more cats and a vacation, all at the same time?  unusual.

Obviously I need a nap, but instead I'm going to work now....sorry for inflicting my breakdown and my neuroses on you all.

a little fun

in the midst of all the craziness of my life, this makes me happy. I watch the pandas several times every day, for a few minutes at a time.  It's like enjoying creation without going outside!  Plus pandas are cute and cuddly and funny.  Hopefully I'll get to visit in person at christmas time!  until then, watch away...

Whiners to Bakers--a sermon for Ordinary 25A

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Whiners to Bakers
Exodus 16.2-15
September 21 2008, Ordinary 25A

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.’
Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.’ So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, ‘In the evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against us?’ And Moses said, ‘When the Lord gives you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord has heard the complaining that you utter against him—what are we? Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.’
Then Moses said to Aaron, ‘Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, “Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.” ’ And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, ‘I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, “At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.” ’
In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, ‘What is it?’ For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, ‘It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.’


Does anyone here ever wish they could go back in time? Anyone remember the good old days, when things were simpler, better, golden? What were those days like?

I once went to a retreat where the speaker used the acronym “BITD” instead of saying the whole phrase: “Back In The Day.” After a while, someone shouted “I think it was a Wednesday!” as a way of reminding us that “back in the day” doesn’t really exist—it’s idealized in our memory as a time better than now, a time when we knew what to do, a time we have successfully navigated and survived. Using phrases like “back in the day” or “back in the good old days” or even “when I was your age” (as in “When I was your age, television was called books!”) is a way for us to escape into a time and place that we already know how to handle.

Interestingly, the Israelites have only been out in the wilderness six weeks when they start living in the past. In that six weeks they’ve sung songs to God, praised and thanked God for delivering them, seen God turn water from polluted to potable, and camped at an abundant oasis filled with springs and palm trees. But now, a day into the desert, they’re hungry and cranky and they’ve figured out that they don’t know where they’re going or how they’ll get there or how long it will take or even where they are exactly. And there’s no established religion or government, no social safety net, and apparently no leftovers from the camping trip. So they start complaining, beginning with “if only we had died in Egypt where we sat around and ate as much as we wanted!”

Now, I don’t know if you remember what the Israelite people were doing in Egypt, but it goes something like this. Gather straw. Carry water. Make bricks out of mud and straw. Build cities you won’t live in using these crumbly bricks. Work longer hours because straw is hard to find. Pay taxes. Get paid very little. Worry that your children are going to be thrown into the Nile while you’re at work. repeat. That’s what the Israelites are looking back on with such fondness—being slaves of Pharaoh, captive to his every whim for a new city or a new palace or more food. Everything they had was provided by Pharaoh, and that’s not much: no days off, no straw, no safety for their families. And yet, when they’re hungry for one day out in the desert, “I want to be back in Egypt, like in the good old days!”

To Moses and Aaron, who worked so hard to get the people out of Egypt, this sounds suspiciously like whining—as in, “would you like some cheese with your whine?” But God listens—even to the whining. God says, “they’re right—I brought them out, I promised to be their God, and that means providing for them.” So Moses and Aaron tell the people that “in the evening you shall know…and in the morning you shall see” who God is and what God is like. But even before then, the people look at the edge of the camp and they see the glory of the Lord settle into the pillar of cloud that has been leading them…and then here come quails strolling into the camp just in time for dinner! The song we sang earlier from Taize was practically made for this moment—“look to God, do not be afraid, lift up your voices, the Lord is near!” The Lord is indeed near, and listening when the people lift up their voices.

After the glory and the quail, we might think things are going pretty well, but God has more in store. The Israelites wake up to find the first ever Sinai snow day! The ground is covered in a fine flaky substance they don’t recognize, and they ask around... “What is it?” The Hebrew word for “what is it” is manna. The stuff they discover is bread from heaven is named not by its appearance or its function or its taste, but with a question: what is it? It is provided by the Lord, for you. According to the rest of the story, they go out to gather and no matter how much they picked up, everyone had exactly the amount they needed for their families—no one had more, no one had less. It tasted like cakes made with honey—good enough to eat every day for 40 years. It could be baked or boiled, but not stored overnight except for the Sabbath. It was there every day for the taking, except on the Sabbath. There was always enough—no one went hungry and there was no waste. God provided by turning the whiners into bakers.

In many ways, this is the central wilderness experience, the first of many lessons in the making of a people. God said, “I will be your God,” and then called them “my people” and had to teach them what that might mean—they had to go through the visioning process and figure out a mission statement (“love the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself” turned out to work pretty well!). They had to wander a little to find out that God was leading them if they would just follow. They had to look back without the rose colored glasses so they could look forward with hope. They had to learn that God is love, and they had to discern who God is calling them to be. And the very first lesson is to rely on God’s goodness and abundance to provide. That sounds cliché and naïve to us now, and I suspect it did then too—but alone out in the desert, the Israelites literally depended on God for their daily bread. They learned that God is faithful. They learned that hoarding doesn’t get any of us anywhere. They learned that God’s abundance comes along with justice—it’s not whatever we want, it’s what we as a community need. They learned that they can call on God to hold up God’s end of the covenant and God will do it. They learned that they were chosen to be a community of God’s people, being a blessing to the world, not just a ragtag band of wanderers. Most importantly, they learned that the journey from “if only” to “I AM” goes through a question: “what is it?”

“What is it?” God provided, but they didn’t know what it was or what to do with it, they didn’t understand at first that it would be there when they needed it or that it was both good for them and good tasting. They weren’t used to being provided for—and it takes time for slavery to get out of your system, time to turn from Pharaoh’s non-people into God’s people, time to figure out that God is not just another Pharaoh, time to learn trust and reliance, time to figure out providence—that God will provide, even if they don’t recognize that providence at first.

What is it? turns out to be manna, bread from heaven tasting like cakes made with honey or like fresh popped kettle korn, good enough to eat every day for 40 years. The journey from “If only” to “I AM”, from whiner to baker, involves lots of “what is it?” And throughout our whole journey, God provides, though we may not see or understand or have a word for it. And so God weaves us together, a community learning to trust, learning to look around and ahead rather than only back, learning to bake.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.

it's coming...

the conspiracy!  I'm hoping we can all conspire together...(learn more here)

what if there is no problem of evil?

That's what I'm left with after tonight's adult ed class.  We are in the midst of a 101 series, currently in Theology 101.  and in discussing the classic theodicy problem (if God is both all-good/loving and all-powerful, how is there evil?) I discovered that the people in my class consider "evil" to mean "evil intentions behind the action" and therefore the vast majority of bad things that happen aren't evil.  Even when I changed language to "bad things" it didn't help...natural disasters were first off the list, then illnesses too, and then there was discussion of how extreme poverty/starvation/etc is our responsibility to take care of so why don't we do that, and then you're just left with the category I called "mean people."  and then there was free will.  So it looks like there is no problem of evil.  I offered them the classic solutions, but it doesn't matter because they don't seem to believe that God is so intimately involved in ordering things that happen to *them*...instead they are trying to focus on the big-picture "all will be well" sort of deal.  So love and power are not incompatible with the relatively small picture stuff, and even the bigger stuff isn't technically evil.  That's what I walked away from the class with.

What's interesting is that I WANTED to talk about predestination tonight, and leave theodicy for another time.  alas, no.  so now i'm pushing into a third week of theology 101 and leaving spirituality 101 (which I'm calling "how we relate to God" since the theology stuff is a lot about who God is and what God is like and what God has to do with us) for the 4th week.  (sigh)  so tonight:  attributes of God (which I should have known was going to get me to theodicy since "in control?" came up in both "God is" and "God is not" columns...), theodicy, sin, and the beginnings of atonement.  Next week:  finishing up atonement/reconciliation, justification/sanctification, predestination, and heaven/hell.  I can do that in an hour, right?  ;-)

an interesting conversation during the attributes of God section:  does God hate?  if God is love, and most human hate is grounded in fear, and perfect love casts out fear, is it possible for God to hate?  interesting thinking...

Reading Challenge 2008

The latest book in the challenge was actually 3-novels-in-one-volume (sort of like the Trinity...but not quite.) called The Parish Papers.  I picked it up on a whim at half price books.  George MacDonald wrote these novels as serials--you know, back in the day (in his case, the late 1800's day) magazines and newspapers published a chapter at a time?  I can't even imagine reading a novel like that, but it seems to have worked for people.  Anyway, you can sort of tell that this was a serial, as each chapter stands on its own a little and the beginning of the next chapter helps you catch up a bit.  Mildly tedious but not too bad.

What was more tedious is that the main character, Rev. Walton (often referred to just as "parson") doesn't seem to know how to listen but he does know how to talk!  At first, every conversation he has turns from a two-way into a didactic theological monologue.  He gets a little better as the story progresses, but he still really likes to talk.

19th century novels, even when they've been "cleaned up" for "the modern reader" can be kind of slow sometimes, and occasionally the speech patterns are hard to follow if you aren't paying close attention.  It wasn't a huge problem, but it was noticeable if I was reading while tired.

Anyway--there's not a ton of action (though there seems to be more disturbing action in Walton's parish than mine!) but there is some interesting character, relationship, and theological/faith development.  The third book in the volume is written from the perspective of the oldest daughter and was probably my favorite.

So anyway, if you're looking for a portrait of late 19th century church of england, here it is.  If you're looking for theology-in-a-story, here's some.  The main theological point is the same as the Shack:  trust in God, trust in God, trust in God.  Easier said than done, which is lived out by each character in the story at various points.  Some of the theology is old and more evangelical than I like, some is unhelpful (telling a dying woman, whose husband just died, that God "chasteneth those whom He loveth") but if you can get past it, the story does move along.  It's interesting to think about how people of one class befriend those of other classes, how relationships develop, what faith-friends might look like, etc.

It was a fun read, in other words, but not the kind of book you can pay only a little attention to. 

insanity

That's what I think my life has turned into:  a big ball of insanity.

We have an interim pastor lined up, thank God.  But she won't start until October 20, which leaves me with 6 more weeks on my own.  6 weeks in as the only pastor of a congregation of 400, here's what I've learned:

1.  preaching every week is a discipline that would require a lot more practice on my part.  And is also something I don't really want to do.  Possibly ever.  I know God is laughing her butt off as I say that. (anyone remember when I informed the Fourth Church session that what I had learned from Colloquium was that I didn't want to be in a church where I had to do three services on a Sunday morning?  hahahahahahhaah!! God said.)

2.  Preaching every week when you are also responsible for all the other ministries and programs (youth, education for kids and grown-ups, fellowship, etc etc etc) is very difficult.  I have complained about this before:  that if my job is already nearly 50 hours a week on programs, adding preaching on top of that (without removing any of those other responsibilities for that week) is really stressful.  I am working very hard on empowering laypeople to do ministry in all these areas, but that in itself takes a significant amount of work and time, in training and encouraging and resourcing and helping.  Not to mention the communication, which generally has to come through me/the office anyway.  I am committed to laypeople being the church and "doing church" together, following their calls in the church and in the world, etc etc. But that doesn't seem to be the end of my work, yet.

3.  I love preaching and planning and leading worship.  I hate turning in bulletins on time every week.

4.  I don't know anything about Stewardship and I don't really want to, but all of a sudden it looks like the entire campaign this year will be on "my" watch.  Crap.

5.  I also don't know anything about money, in general, so of course the Treasurer wants to go over the stuff with me before the session meeting.  I miss the days when I could just show up to a meeting and have that be good enough.

6.  If you're (well, if I'm) in charge of everything, some things fall through the cracks.  The thing falling through the cracks right now:  checking up on sick people.  Praise the Lord for the clerk of session who went to visit someone I'd visited once...only to discover she'd been moved somewhere else and no one had let us know. I'm pretty sure I should have figured that out sooner, but...there are only so many hours in a day.

7.  I really like being an Associate Pastor.  I don't want to be in charge of more than I already am.  And now that I'm sort of de facto in charge of everything, I worry about what happens when an interim comes and we have to negotiate a collegial relationship as well as the responsibilities that I might end up being sort of territorial about after 12 weeks on my own.  In fact, I stress about the possibilities in that working relationship a lot.  More than is probably necessary, since I can't do anything about it until she gets here.

8.  I need more bookshelves in my office.  Every flat surface is covered in stuff and I can't do anything in there until I get more storage.  I can't even tell you how tempting the empty bookshelves/table/desk/drawers/entire office next door is.

9.  days off are good good things, but rarer than they should be.  I want them to be more regular again.  6 weeks...

10.  I am very tired.  I have been coming home and falling immediately asleep, often on the couch.  Monday night I was out cold by 7pm.  I don't think I've stayed up past 9 more than once or twice in the past two weeks (aside from sermon-writing-saturday-nights, obv.).  I've had two whole days off this weekend, thanks to a guest preacher, and it feels like the most amazing luxury.  Except now I don't *even* want to go church tomorrow.  (sigh)

11.  People are always asking me questions I don't have the slightest idea how to answer.  What's up with that?

12.  I have more voicemail than I've ever had before.  

Okay, I have to stop.  I must go to bed (even though I napped most of the day away, post-massage...).  Tomorrow, even though I'm not preaching, is still a long day:  3 services, Inquirer's Class, and Middle School Youth Ministry kick-off.  For those keeping score at home, that's 7.30 prayer/children's sermon writing, 8.30 worship, 9.30 worship, 11.00 worship, 12.00 inquirer's class, 1.00 youth ministry.  woohoo.

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job...

(it's more than a job, it's a calling...it's more than a job, it's a calling...)

10?-a sermon for ordinary 23 (or 27...)A

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
10?
Exodus 20.1-17, Romans 13.8-10
September 7, 2008, Ordinary 23A (ex. 20 = ord. 27a)

Then God spoke all these words:
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.
You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God.
You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God.
Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. For six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.
Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.
You shall not kill.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.
...
Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ah, the Ten Commandments—probably some of the most well known words in the Bible, thanks to Charlton Heston. Right? Everyone knows the 10 commandments—aren’t they the source of our laws, the rules that keep us in check, the thou-shalt-nots that have defined the negative view of religion for years? Well—maybe, but maybe not. I read this week that nearly 90% of Americans get stuck once they’ve named 4 commandments. The poll didn’t say which 4 were the most consistently memorable, which is too bad because I’m quite curious. Perhaps these words are not as well known as I thought! Nevertheless, they do in some way form a foundation for our life together. The form of that foundation is not always obvious, but I suspect it’s there whether we notice it, or whether we can name it, or not. As a society we are obsessed with rules—making rules, following rules, breaking rules, punishing people for breaking rules. It’s possible that some of that obsession comes from these very words.

Unfortunately, our focus on rules obscures something very important about the 10 commandments—did you notice the very first sentence? God says, “I am the LORD your God who brought you out of Egypt, who rescued you from slavery.” Before the rules, salvation. Before the commandments, grace. God first saves the people, sets them physically free, and then speaks these words. Following the rules isn’t going to save the people—they’ve already been saved. Following the rules isn’t going to earn them God’s good action on their behalf—they’ve already received the action. Following the rules isn’t going to make God like them anymore—God has already said, “I am the Lord YOUR God.” So what’s with the rules, anyway?

Tom Long also notes that the first words out of God’s mouth are not “follow these rules or else!” but are a proclamation of freedom already given. He goes on to suggest that we can view these 10 “commandments” as descriptions of what life is like in God’s vision of community—not as heavy burdens to bear, but as good news of liberation, of freedom from overwork, from idols who control us, from violence and loneliness and deception. God sees what our human community could be like, and offers us these 10 words to show the way to life after physical freedom, a life lived in response to God’s grace.

These 10 words as they stand now might be considered such a part of our fabric of life that we barely notice them—perhaps that’s why so many people can only name 4. I wonder what would happen if we though of 10 new words, words for OUR community. After all, God speaks to specific places and times just as much as to every place and time. What might the 10 commandments of our RCLPC community be?
Perhaps something along the lines of…
1. I am the Lord your God, who loves you and calls you…listen to my voice!
2. You shall worship and serve with all your mind…and also your heart and maybe even your body if you’re really into it.
3. You shall reveal any musical gifts you might have, ASAP.
4. You shall bring something tasty to potlucks.
5. You shall consider prayerfully when (not if) you are asked to serve on a team, teach Sunday school, or sing in the choir.
6. You shall eat together…often.
7. You shall laugh together, including at yourselves…often.
8. You shall talk to one another when there is a conflict—no gossip!
9. You shall ask for help when you need it—ask and you will receive.
10. You shall tell all your friends what God’s spirit is doing in this place.

This is a little tongue-in-cheek, of course…except the bits about musical gifts and potlucks…but you get the idea. The 10 commandments are not about following the rules to the letter, they are about becoming God’s people, living into God’s vision, being woven into God’s community. They are about how we live together, how we treat one another, how our community grows in spirit, how we work together, how we reach out together, how we serve one another, how we love.

I wonder if that’s what Paul was trying to say to the Romans in his letter. All these commandments can be summed up in one word: love. Jesus says this too—that love of God and love of neighbor is the whole of the law—not just these 10 but all 613 laws of the old testament. They aren’t talking about love the feeling, they are talking about love the verb—the action that we decide on every day, whether to love or not love. When we decide each day to love, we fulfill the law, we live in gratitude, we share the grace we have received.

But rules are so tempting, aren’t they? Even if it’s just our 10 ricklepickle commandments, it feels like they give us something concrete to do or not do, something to measure ourselves against and to feel good about when we do well, or to feel guilty about when we don’t. “love your neighbor” is harder—it feels vague and maybe even a little wishy-washy. How exactly do we do it? is what we really want to know. Tell us what to do so we can live up to God’s expectations, so we can be good enough, so we can go to heaven, so we can earn grace.

Because that’s what we’re really talking about—earning grace. And no matter how many times we hear that grace is free, that God gives it to everyone, that grace falls like rain, that grace is enough, that grace is God’s to give and not ours to earn, we still want to do something. Our Protestant work ethic kicks into high gear, as does our American “no-such-thing-as-a-free-lunch” sensibility.

Except, where God is concerned, there is a free lunch. It’s right here on this table—offered to us with no strings attached, no rule-following as a prerequisite, no way we can earn it. At this table, God is the host and God invites whomever God pleases—and that just happens to be every single one of us. When we come to this table, we take a place in the vision God has for community—a vision full of good news, a vision of freedom from overwork, from idols who control us, from violence and loneliness and deception. A vision of a community, gathered around a table to break bread, to share stories, to love one another both with words and actions.

May we live into God’s vision of a community woven together by love.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.

Reading Challenge 2008

Okay, I just finished the Twilight series.

This week (like from Monday to now) I've read Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn.  Yes, I'm a fast reader, especially when the book is interesting and especially when I am stressed out and in need of escape.

Anyway, about these books I have this to say:  wow.  

I'm very impressed with this series, with the character development, with the consistency of writing style through four long novels, with the plot twists (especially in the fourth book!), and with the story in general.  It really is a captivating story.  In spite of having to work with all new vampire/werewolf mythology (I am a Buffy fan, after all!), I found the books easy to get into and even to get immersed in.  And the characters are so vividly written that at first I actually *felt* like I was back in high school, my insecure and slightly clumsy self, unsure of why anyone would want to be friends with me, etc.  I do NOT like that feeling so I spent some of this series not really liking Bella much, but she does capture the teen psyche in a remarkable way.  And Edward...move over, Mr. Darcy?  (okay, maybe not quite, but pretty close...I mean, he has WAY MORE than ten thousand a year!!!  ha!)

I think there are movies coming soon.  Part of me can't wait to see this story visually realized, and part of me dreads that because it won't be the way it is in my head.  I'm telling you--vivid.  I have LIVED this story this week.  I had Twilight and once I got to the end, I went immediately to Borders to purchase the next three, as I was unwilling to have any gap in the reading at all.  I could NOT wait.  Yes, I thought it was that compelling of a story.  I can see why these are the most popular books among youth--there's a lot to capture about the growing-up life, and this story does it well, with sub-plots about sex/intimacy, school, friendships, grief, family, navigating the world as a young adult, violence/nonviolence/peacemaking, faith in oneself, mythology/truth/fiction, gifts (as in talents, gifts of the Spirit), and growing into self-awareness.  I'm telling you, it's good.  I am thinking of putting these books, along with some others, on a shelf in our youth area.  What other books would you put there?

So...Twilight.  enjoy!

blessed?

I am confused by the idea that there are some people who are "less blessed" than we are.  Who are these people?  In what ways are we "blessed"?  Why do we assume that people whose lives are different from us are not blessed?  

Discuss.

And then, when you're done with that, I want to know more about allegiance.  "country first"?  Where does that leave God?  Are we creating an idol?

While I'm listening to the RNC right now (obviously), I think these questions apply to both parties (I was just too busy to blog last week--and this week I'm forcing myself to make the time because I'm beginning to go insane) and to our whole national life.  And especially to our faith life--what does it do to us when we replace God with an idol?  How is this related to the idea that some are less blessed?  To other ways we view ourselves and our political and religious leaders?  

Discuss.  I'm going to finish Breaking Dawn so I can blog about the Twilight series...

Reading challenge 2008

Last night I made a Saturday evening tactical error:  after finishing my "sermon" (actually a guided meditation) I decided to read The Shack.

It was actually pretty well written, and a compelling story.  The theology was basically sound (in my opinion)--I was reading fairly quickly so I don't remember any egregious theological errors (nothing that made me cringe anyway) but if I missed something, I'm sure someone will let me know.  I liked that God was portrayed in ways that made the main character uncomfortable, as in NOT a grandfatherly type.  I liked that it was repeatedly pointed out that God loves every single person, regardless of their actions, and that God's love can't be lost, but that in order for us to experience eternal life NOW (this has nothing to do with "eternity" but with a quality to our life together now) we need to rest and trust in that love.  Even the stuff about atonement (and I'm pretty sure substitutionary atonement is the norm for this book, which is something I don't always agree 100% with as I think it's a limited theory in need of the other theories for us to get a fuller picture) was relatively subtle most of the time.  And the portrayal of the loss within Godself at the death of Jesus was profound and lovely.

However, the book is totally sad (I mean, hopeful and all, but the basic storyline is heart-wrenchingly sad).  I don't know how anyone could read it and not cry unless you are stone-hearted.  And it also definitely pushed some grief buttons for me. (hence the saturday evening error--I cried and ended up dehydrated and with puffy eyes as I headed into Sunday.)  But anyway...

read it and tell me what you think.