haha! easter monday quizzes...

Your Biblical Name Is...

Abira Zayit You will live to see the end of times.

What's Your Biblical Name?

You Are a Red Crayon

Your world is colored with bright, vivid, wild colors. You have a deep, complex personality - and you are always expressing something about yourself. Bold and dominant, you are a natural leader. You have an energy that is intense... and sometimes overwhelming. Your reaction to everything tends to be strong. You are the master of love-hate relationships. Your color wheel opposite is green. Green people are way too mellow to understand what drives your energy.

What Color Crayon Are You?

Your Inner European is Italian!

Passionate and colorful. You show the world what culture really is.

Who's Your Inner European?

now that Jesus has come out of the tomb...

...it's time for some of y'all to come out of hiding as well!

That's right, it's Easter Week De-Lurking!

If you're out there, hiding in the dark ether, come into the light. It's nice out here. :-)

Happy Easter!

Reading Challenge 2008

Today I picked up from the library, and read (it might be the only book they've ever had both checked out and returned during business hours...) A Poisoned Season. It's the sequel to And Only To Deceive (a couple of posts down). It was a fun fluff read, perfect for a day when I didn't have to do anything else.

Oh yeah, and tomorrow's Easter and actually I had several other things to do...good thing it only took me a couple of hours to read it!

holy week and other things

Holy Week happened--our progressive-worship (like a progressive dinner, where you all go on to a different place together) Maundy Thursday seems to have worked. The funeral Friday morning happened. The high-church Good Friday with the St. Matthew Passion happened beautifully in spite of my inability to connect what my eyes read with what my mouth was saying.

We somehow managed to slip in 8-10 inches of snow, the plowing service we use at church managed to NOT come and plow the parking lot until we were all already there, and I managed to fall down some steps leaving church last night, bruising my knees. (Thankfully no one saw...it was decidedly un-graceful)

Today it's sort of sunny--the snow is sparkling on my deck. As long as I'm in the house, I don't mind. But it's supposed to snow more tomorrow--all between 3am and 3pm. Just the time when we want it to be snowing, right? Between the snow and spring break we are anticipating lower Easter attendance than usual, but Jesus will come out of the tomb whether the crowds are in the church to welcome him or not.
I think I have a children's time worked out--I just need to do a few things before tomorrow to get ready. I have the makings of green bean casserole waiting for tomorrow. I need potatoes so I can make mashed potatoes. And then everything will be ready and all I have to do is sit on my couch and read a book for the rest of the day.

I'm not sure that's what the early church had in mind when they talked about Quiet Saturday, but it seems perfect to me. It's pretty quiet--the only noise is my water heater (which makes strange noises), my cats, a few birds singing outside (probably asking each other what happened to bring back December in March!), and the sound of me typing...

quiet indeed.

Reading Challenge 2008

Yes, I'm reading a lot. As previously noted, I know I do this when I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed--I head off to another land.

So the book I began at the gym yesterday was finished yesterday evening (my first evening at home in several weeks).

Yes, it was fluff. And?

And Only To Deceive was a fun yet slightly mysterious escape into late-19th century aristocratic England. Not entirely formulaic, full of wonderful references to antiquities, Homer quotes, and the budding intellectual freedom of a young woman, I liked it. And it freed me from thinking about Maundy Thursday for a good couple of hours. A good half-price-books buy!

Reading Challenge 2008

Last night I finished Heavens to Betsy, a novel by an ordained woman pastor (CCDoC) about a 30 year old single woman pastor. It's written entirely in the first person, which I know irritates my friend Amy but doesn't bother me very much.
Betsy serves as an associate in Nashville after leaving her solo pastorate somewhere farther south. She encounters a lot of sexism and also some ageism...she also, I think, in many ways typifies the young clergy woman experience. Her love life is either non-existent or in a shambles, her professional life is difficult at best, and her doubts about her calling are fairly usual.
I found this to be a fun novel with quite a bit of realism. I was angry at the things people would say and do to her, angry at the way she just took it as though pastor=doormat, proud of her when she really claimed her pastoral authority, sad when her circle of friends started to disintegrate, touched at the descriptions of some of the most sacred moments of being a pastor.
It was a pretty good book, in other words. :-)

slightly depressing Sunday evening movie...

Last night I came home after a very long day (preached three services, had youth group, taught confirmation class about forgiveness/salvation/atonement) and ate all my leftover mashed potatoes and vegetarian brown gravy for dinner. Pretty much the best dinner ever (I make really good mashed potatoes!).

I finally watched the movie I got last week at the library--it's officially overdue so I figured I might as well watch it at least! Kolya is a Czech movie set in the time just before the end of Soviet occupation of Czechoslovakia (try typing that a bunch of times...). Kolya is a little Russian boy who is sort of the victim of his mother's ambition and lust. Mom gets into a fake marriage with a Czech cellist (who got tossed out of the Philharmonic for political reasons) who is in financial trouble and agrees to the fake marriage only under duress. Mom runs off, unannounced, to "the West" to be with another lover (married) and to take a job only a couple of days after the wedding, leaving the boy with his grandmother, who ends up dying, leaving Kolya (who speaks no Czech) in the care of his now-stepfather-by-accident (who speaks no Russian). They learn to get along together and to care for one another and the whole thing is terribly sweet even if it is a little depressing (what with the whole communist thing, the we-hate-russians thing on the part of Louka's older mother, the whole poor-because-I-only-play-at-funerals-since-I-got-kicked-out-of-the-orchestra thing, etc). The boy is clearly traumatized--abandoned by his mother and seemingly by his grandmother as well (he's simply told she's asleep). There's a heartbreakingly beautiful scene where Kolya is in the bathtub, using the showerhead as a phone, talking to his baboushka, saying he went to visit but she was asleep and won't she please wake up and come back? He's crying into the "phone" the whole time...telling her what's going on, etc. Adorable, but so sad.

anyway--here's the big spoiler--soviets leave and mom comes back to take the boy with her. He doesn't want to go at first, but he eventually does, and now its stepdad who is forlorn. He gets his orchestra job back, but loses his only real human connection (all his other connections are standard man-crap, using and discarding women). I thought it was the saddest thing ever that the kid ended up being reunited with his mom. I wish he'd stayed with Louka! Alas, no.

The film was beautifully made, wonderfully acted, and generally all-around good. I just cried at the ending. I know this movie is totally old (1996) but I hadn't heard of it before...so in case you haven't either, it's now on my recommended list.

Everybody Loves a Parade--a sermon for Palm Sunday A

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Everybody Loves A Parade
Matthew 21.1-11
March 16 2008, Palm Sunday A

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, “The Lord needs them.” And he will send them immediately.’ This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
‘Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
‘Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’
When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’ The crowds were saying, ‘This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.’
~~~~~~~

When I was growing up, going to a parade was one of the most exciting events I could imagine. I lived about an hour away from Portland, Oregon, and so the Portland Rose Festival was always a highlight of our year. Since 1907, Portland has been putting on a festival that includes, of course, floats made entirely from roses, along with the standard marching bands and horses and shriners in their funny little cars. Millions of people line the streets to watch.

There were smaller parades too—closer to home we had a strawberry festival, plus parades to kick off the state and county fairs. I loved parades so much that the year I got my first camera I took pictures of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I was watching on TV.

When I read the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, I want to imagine it as a parade like the ones I went to growing up, where people tossed butterscotch or strawberry candies off of fire trucks and marching bands actually marched (none of this walking that’s fashionable these days) and the flags of city, state, and country were carried by men in uniforms. I want there to have been a grand marshal and maybe even some cheerleaders. In my imagination, it’s an old-fashioned, kid friendly, family fun kind of experience.

But that’s probably not terribly likely. In Jesus’ time, only one type of person was in a parade—the military type. Parades are for the emperor, the governor, the army. And they serve one purpose: to show power. The Roman empire was particularly known for its victory parades—to process through the streets of a conquered city, and then later through the streets of Rome, with the full army, with the former rulers in chains, with the empty chariot of the old king or governor, with fabulously big animals like lions and tigers, was to show who was in charge. It’s a reminder to all who see it that there is one empire and it is ruled by a man who would be god.

This is the kind of procession Pilate would likely have been in. He would have come from his palace on the seaside to stay in Jerusalem for the festival of Passover. Passover was the biggest festival of the year—people would come from all over the land to celebrate in Jerusalem. The city population swelled to several times its usual size, full of pilgrims and zealots and revelers, celebrating God’s power to liberate the chosen people from oppression. It’s the perfect time for an uprising, so it was important to increase the Roman presence as well. Pilate’s parade would have included the marching army and his own officials and household mounted on horses or pulled in chariots. His parade would have been welcomed by Herod and by the Temple priests. It was a big deal, a spectacle not to be missed. I imagine it might have looked something like this parade… (show clip from Alexander: 49.54-51.30 (chapter 13))

This parade sends a pretty clear message about power—it’s rooted in violence and money, and he has it, the people on the sidelines don’t. Their choice is to cheer or to be noticed as a dissenter.

I don’t think this is what Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem looked like. I think this is what some of his followers were hoping for—that at last, he’d be recognized for who he was, that people would finally realize who was in their midst and they would all bow down and worship him, and he would come into Jerusalem as its rightful king, taking the power that belonged to him and overthrowing the Roman oppressors.

But by this point in the story we know that’s not really who Jesus is. Jesus is about healing, about wholeness, about compassion, about love—not about military might or the perks of royalty. And from where we sit, looking back on the story, we know that Jesus wasn’t about overthrowing one oppressive power just to make way for another—he was about suffering and humility and love conquering once and for all.

So when Jesus sets up his parade, it looks strikingly different from Pilate’s. He knows Zechariah’s prophesy about the true king, and he remembers that the prophets often acted out their messages when words failed. So instead of a mighty steed Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey, a beast of burden, a lowly and stubborn animal that no man would ever ride and even some women would shun. He is surrounded by his disciples, who may recall the prophesy but certainly don’t understand what’s happening. Peasants and pilgrims swarm around him, trying to get into the city gates to visit the Temple before nightfall. There are no marching bands, no armies with helmets and spears, no wild animals, no trappings of power at all—not even a horse. Just a man who preaches about love, riding on a donkey surrounded by rabble from the little villages of an occupied nation. Perhaps it looked like this: (show clip from Pasolini 1.22.25-1.24.15).

Jesus knew what he was doing that day when he rode into Jerusalem on a borrowed donkey. He knew what kind of message he was sending with his action. He invited those who were familiar with scripture to take notice—he declared himself to any who had eyes to see and ears to hear. But this parade doesn’t end at the palace, greeted by the king and the priests. This parade stops on a barren hillside, on a cross, surrounded by mockery and shame and humility. This parade leads to pain, to love that suffers for the beloved, to death and grief and fear. Those who crowd around the donkey, waving their tree branches, have no idea what’s on the other side of the tomb—they don’t even know what’s coming at the end of the week, though Jesus knows and he trusts that God’s grace will be enough to open their eyes and ears to good news.

I wonder, if we had a choice, which parade we would choose? Marcus Borg imagines both parades happening on the same day—Pilate entering the city from the west and Jesus entering from the east. If we were in Jerusalem that day, which parade would we rather be in? The spectacular one with pomp and circumstance, where we stand lining the streets to watch? Or the small, villager one with tree branches and a donkey, where everyone joins in and there are no bystanders? Borg writes, “Jesus’ procession deliberately countered what was happening on the other side of the city. Pilate’s procession embodied the power, glory, and violence of the empire that ruled the world. Jesus’ procession embodied an alternative vision, the kingdom of God. This contrast—between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Caesar—is central to the story of Jesus and of Christianity.”

This contrast is central to our story as well as to Jesus’ story. As we enter this holy week, perhaps we can wonder together about which parade we are in, which story we are telling, which kind of power we are embracing. Do we want to watch a parade that conveys strength, wealth, and triumph and ends at the palace? Or are we willing to be in a parade of the poor and outcast, a parade filled with good news and love but also with suffering and a power made perfect in weakness? The road to the cross holds both parades—how will we choose walk it?

May God’s grace and love go ahead of us and behind us into this holy week, to the cross and all the way to an empty tomb.
Amen.


(1) Borg and Crossan, The Last Week, p. 4.

Reading Challenge 2008

Okay, I have read two more books this week. I can always tell when I'm stressed out because I read like crazy--I stay up late reading, I read several books at once, I do anything I can to escape to a different place.

So this week I read Three Cups of Tea which was stunning and beautiful and challenging. This very well-written account of how one man can change the world was incredible--highly recommended. Also, this book reminded me that I'm not the only one in the world out there saying "violence does nothing but make people hate...only education and giving people tools to get out of poverty makes people less susceptible to the charms of terrorist-trainers!!"

I also read The Dante Club, a murder mystery set in late 19th century Boston and revolving around HW Longfellow, JR Lowell, OW Holmes, etc., and their club for translating the Divine Comedy. It was intelligent and witty and also a good mystery--I had lots of theories as the book went on but none were right. I only figured out the murderer when the author decided to reveal who it was. An enjoyable fluff book. :-)

Now I have to focus on writing a sermon....

I suck at juggling.

I cannot keep the balls going. So many things to do, so little time.


How does this happen? I feel like my head is exploding in balls like the ones from a ball pit at McDonald's.


And the only coherent thing in my brain right now?


a sung response we are using this Sunday, from South Africa.


Sanna, sannanina, sanna, sanna, sanna! Sanna, sannanina, sanna, sanna, sanna! Sanna, sanna, sanna, sannanina, sanna, sanna, sanna! Sanna, sanna, sanna, sannanina, sanna, sanna sanna!

sometimes....

...I wish I had an anonymous blog.

There are a lot of things I want to say right now about this whole FL-MI presidential race thing. But I'll keep them to myself because, well, my blog is not anonymous. And I don't know who all is reading. And I don't want to send my extremely fire-y opinions out into the blogosphere when I am not entirely sure I understand the complexities and intricacies of the situation AND I don't know who's reading.

Let me just say, after reading lots of comments on the situation over at cnn.com: wow. And also this: for all the energy we expend on fighting with one another, and for all the money we talk about throwing around, I suspect we could actually do what we are all talking about--change the world. for the better.

I think the same thing about the church and the energy and money we spend fighting over things that are adiaphora (peripheral issues).

Just saying.

whoops....neglected blog alert!

Hmm...I forgot about my blog for a little while. Sorry.

The whole on-vacation thing was good...three days off. woohoo! Ames and I spent time at the spa, which was amazing. I so loved spending the afternoon being massaged and pedicured. I should do that more often. And with the half-off cards they gave me for a bunch of next visits, I will.

Let's see....In the past week I've been to the spa, I've eaten at some of my favorite restaurants, I've said goodbye to Amy afeter her vacation here, I've been to help at the Sunday School Teacher mid-year Training, I've done a bunch of church, confirmation class, etc...and brainstormed Maundy Thursday and Palm Sunday...desperately trying to come up with several stations and their activities for Maundy Thursday. I'm going with exploring the story from the inside, as it were. There'll be a handwashing/all the disciples together experience, a betraying/selling out God for our own interests/Judas experience, communion, and an abandonment/denying/Peter experience. Haven't really worked out more than that so far. Music ideas, anyone? We probably have a guitar player, assuming his flight home from a business trip is on time. :-)

Tonight we had a great Taize service even with a very small crowd. And now...Hot Fuzz. It's overdue at the library, but I figured if I'm going to pay a fee I might as well actually watch it. it's pretty funny so far.

and that's all. I promise something more worthwhile over the weekend....after all, it's Presbytery meeting time on Saturday! good times.

Reading Challenge 2008

I just finished The Year of Living Biblically. I spent a lot of time wondering if I'd already read this book, as whole passages seemed to already be in my memory. Then I realized I'd read a ton of reviews and so had probably picked up quite a bit that way....

I really liked this book. I found it amusing and also interesting. It's hard to believe that there are so many people out there taking the Bible so literally, but one of the things the author discovered is that he's not the first or the only one doing these things--you know, testing clothes for mixed fibers, blowing a shofar, or playing a 10 string harp. I mean, seriously.

Anyway, it was good. I recommend it. Though I admit I didn't do a good job describing it to a group at my church---they thought it sounded like a lame pastor book. LOL!

I'm also almost done with Doing Girlfriend Theology (which I put on hold for Biblical Living ) so I'm going to count that now too. It's fabulous and I love it and I'm working out how to use this process with my youth group. Highly recommended!!

brainstorming

So I am thinking about the possibility of several stations for the Maundy Thursday dinner/service. We generally have dinner in the Fellowship Hall, and the service (incl. communion but not footwashing) simply takes place there as well, with people still seated around tables.
I'm thinking about a journey theme and wondering if there's a way to incorporate that theme along with, say, three table stations (where there would also be different food--sort of an around-the-world food idea) for worship...then we need to have communion and we need to go on a more physical journey to the sanctuary in order to finish the service at the cross (where we have a candle-extinguishing ritual going on at each Lent/Holy Week service).
I need some ideas for these stations--and also an idea for what text I should use. I could use John 13. I could use the Last-Supper-Garden-of-Gethsemane text from Matthew. I could use something totally different. I'm having trouble brainstorming this....help! The storm in my brain is less teapot-tempest and more surprisingly-sunny-day-for-February (unlike outside).

Leave your ideas in the comments...
thanks!

movies movies movies

I've been previewing movies that might work for the 30 Hour Famine lock-in. So here are my basic reviews (nothing in-depth, just surface thoughts...):

The Ultimate Gift: Very good. Made me cry at least 5 separate times. Was a beautiful story. I don't recommend the special features as they remind you that the movie has "a moral point" (as you might say). There are even 12-gift-kits you can buy to practice the 12 gifts for yourself. Avoid those features. But the movie was sweet and does have a good message.

Because of Winn-Dixie: Adorable. I really liked it. The way Opal finds friends, the way they learn to listen to one another, the way the story is told--all great. The growth of the preacher, the healing of telling the story about Opal's mom, his confession to Opal, etc...all good. Plus, the dog is extremely cute.

The Girl in the Cafe: So far, so good. I'm about halfway through as I write this. It's endearingly awkward--you know, older British man, no social skills, etc...girl with no knowledge of world economics getting a crash course at the G8 summit and becoming something of an activist to end hunger. It's not a "real movie"--as in, it's made to educate people about hunger and the Millennium Development Goals, not just to entertain. But it has been rather funny so far. (I'm a little distressed, though, by the age difference between the government man and the girl--he's at LEAST twice her age!)
(update: it looks like there's about to be a sex scene, and I definitely just saw boobs, so that's unfortunate for it's use with high school youth group....)
(second update after the end of the movie: It was an off-screen sex scene, though there was a boob shot or two. The movie was good and I loved the way Gena understood that even if shew as considered a nuisance or an uneducated girl, she could stand up for what she believed and she could try to make a difference.)

The Famine begins tomorrow--we'll be going without food, we'll be making a labyrinth on the floor of the Fellowship Hall using 29,000 pennies (as a visual for how many children die of hunger each day), we'll be playing games, we'll be learning about hunger, we'll be doing a scavenger hunt for the food pantry, and we'll be finding out how much food you can buy on a week's food stamps. And, of course, we've got some movies to choose from. (Watching a movie on Saturday afternoon really hits home the whole not-eating thing. We are so conditioned to eat whenever we're not moving that watching a movie with no popcorn, candy, or Coke is brutal!)

Go--a sermon for Lent 2A

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Go.
Genesis 12.1-9
February 17 2008, Lent 2A

Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’

So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran. Abram took his wife Sarai and his brother’s son Lot, and all the possessions that they had gathered, and the persons whom they had acquired in Haran; and they set forth to go to the land of Canaan. When they had come to the land of Canaan, Abram passed through the land to the place at Shechem, to the oak of Moreh. At that time the Canaanites were in the land. Then the Lord appeared to Abram, and said, ‘To your offspring I will give this land.’ So he built there an altar to the Lord, who had appeared to him. From there he moved on to the hill country on the east of Bethel, and pitched his tent, with Bethel on the west and Ai on the east; and there he built an altar to the Lord and invoked the name of the Lord. And Abram journeyed on by stages towards the Negeb.


This story is one I spend a lot of time with. It’s the first story we encounter in our confirmation class here at RCLPC—we begin each year with reading this story and talking about God initiating a relationship with a people, about God calling Abram and calling us, about how Abram wasn’t special or more righteous than other people, except that he did what God asked. When God calls us, do we go? Or do we argue? Or do we choose not to listen and then assume that, since God hasn’t called us to do anything big or spectacular or ridiculous, that must mean we can do whatever we want?

We spend a lot of time in confirmation class talking about this story. We come back to it over and over in the course of the year, nearly every time we talk about God’s imperfect servants or about God calling. Abram comes up when we talk about Moses, David, and Jesus. He comes up when we talk about our lives, about church, about our relationships with God, and about Judaism and Islam. He comes up all the time.

The most common reason for bringing up Abram in confirmation class is to talk about his unquestioning response to God’s call. God says, “go” and Abram goes. No questions asked, no complaining, no trying to wiggle out of it like Moses or Jeremiah or Paul. He just goes. He leaves his country, he leaves his father’s house, he leaves his community, his friends, and a comfortable life. Sure, he takes his stuff and some of his family with him, but he leaves behind a sense of belonging, of identity, of security—with only a promise to show for it. And to top it all off, he’s 75 years old!

I wish it were so simple that I could walk in here today and talk about this part of Abram’s story—that he goes without protest into the great promise of God. I wish that I could come in here and encourage you all to hear God calling you, to recognize that sometimes following God’s call means leaving the known to venture into the unknown, or that living into God’s promise of blessing simply means trusting God to provide. It sounds so simple—it’s something we all do, right? It’s part of growing up. We leave our homes, our families, and we go out into the world, trusting that true security isn’t found by locking ourselves in our houses but instead is found in God’s love and promise.

But things happen, don’t they. It’s true that leaving home and finding our way in the world, going on our faith journeys and our life journeys and all the other kinds of journeys, is part of life. But it’s also true that sometimes the promise of blessing doesn’t look like we want it to. It’s also true that sometimes the security we find in God’s love and promise doesn’t translate into security for our classrooms, our public spaces, or even our homes. In a week when college students and families have once again been brutally reminded that going out into the world is dangerous, how can I stand here and say that our idea of security is an illusion? We know that. We’ve seen over and over that no matter what we do to secure our possessions, our places, or our bodies, we’re never truly safe and secure. We’ve heard the university president say “we couldn’t have predicted or stopped this.” There are always wildcards in life, or curveballs, or whatever kind of metaphor you want to use. The more we focus on our “security” the more we find ourselves focusing on fear. And when we live in fear, not only are we less secure in the usual sense, we also lose sight of our security in God’s promise.

When God told Abram to go with just a promise, Abram knew that it wouldn’t be an easy journey. He walked hundreds of miles with his family, while slaves and pack animals carried his possessions. He was 75 years old when he left home because he heard a voice telling him that he would be blessed and that he had the opportunity to be a blessing to others. There were Canaanites living, shockingly, in the land of Canaan—and it’s never terribly safe to wander into another tribe’s territory, particularly with a caravan of goods and people. And yet he went. God said “Go” and Abram just packed up and went, into the unknown, into the danger.

I think the most interesting part of this story is that when Abram arrives, he builds an altar and then he moves on. God appears and says “this is the land”—and still Abram moves on. He doesn’t stay there, in the land that God has shown him. He keeps going on, by stages. And in each place he calls on the name of the Lord. He keeps praying on his way to….well, to where? We don’t know exactly where Abram was going. I don’t think Abram knew where Abram was going. He just knew that the journey was more of a destination than the destination was. His journey didn’t end just because he had an encounter with God in one place.

I wonder if this metaphor might work for us in these tragic days. We know that the world is dangerous, we know that we can’t guarantee our safety or the safety of those we love, we know that there is uncertainty and insecurity all around us. And yet we journey on, by stages, calling on the name of the Lord in every place in which we find ourselves. At this stage we may be calling out in grief, anger, confusion, or fear: “Why, God?” or “how long, O Lord?” but still we call on God and we remember God’s promises.

God doesn’t promise that the journey will be easy, or safe, or even that the journey has a specific ending. God promises blessing, God promises the opportunity to be a blessing, and God promises to journey with us. One of my favorite prayers includes the phrase “God, you have walked with us the road of this world’s suffering.” Even in tragedy, even in suffering, even in grief and pain and confusion and fear, God walks the road with us. And so we journey on, stage by stage, all the way to the cross, and even on to the empty tomb. May we go when we are called, and may we call back to God in every place.

Amen.

oh, no....why? no. oh.

oh...what a horrible day.
The shooting at NIU...now it's with fatalities.

Ugh. This is so ridiculously awful. Can't kids even go to class without random strangers (who aren't even students) walking out from behind a teacher and shooting up the class? (update: the shooter was apparently a grad student last year, but is not enrolled currently.)

Again...and again...these things happen and they just shouldn't...

Our RCLPC students are all okay--shaken, but okay. 22 students aren't. 6 of them, including the gunman, are dead, 6 have been released from the hospital, and the others....we wait to hear. Prayers for all of them and their families. Prayers for the students at NIU and at schools and colleges around the country who are shaken and grieving. Prayers for peace in our world. Prayers for peace in the minds and hearts and souls of those who think these things will make it better...

update: Are You KIDDING me? When are you people just going to go away? Word on the street is that they plan to protest the funerals.
It's a good thing that God is love, because WOW am I not able to love these people.

you know you're a slacker when....

...your personal trainer (whom you have not seen in weeks, and haven't gotten a workout update from in months) calls you, on your cell phone, at 9am to say "when are you coming back to the gym?" When you respond, "probably Monday, Monday seems like a good time to get back into a good routine..." then he says, "what about Friday? I think Friday is a good time. Plus, what luck! It's tomorrow! See you at 8?" Your slacker response: "how about 9?" yeah.

...it's Thursday and you haven't finished the bulletin for Sunday in spite of the fact it was due yesterday.

...you know you're having people over in the evening and you think "I'll just check my Scrabulous games on facebook before I vacuum before I go to work...." and then suddenly it's 10.30am and you really should be in the office already. Vacuum shmacuum. It's just cat hair. on everything.

another language?

Do you ever feel like you are speaking another language? Not because of the faces around you, or even because what you're reading is particularly obtuse, but just a strange feeling that maybe you aren't speaking English (or whatever is the language you normally speak)?

I get this feeling sometimes when I'm reading the Bible, especially to groups of people. Sometimes even in worship. Maybe this is because I know several other languages, some of them reasonably well, or maybe it's because I spent so much time in seminary reading the Bible in other languages, or maybe it's just a weird trick of my brain. Sometimes I start reading and partway through I think "am I speaking English or Arabic right now?" It's not that people look confused or anything, it's just a feeling.

I think I sometimes get this feeling when I talk about church to non-churchy people. I'm part of a generation that often finds religion to be like a foreign language (at best...at worst it's more like an AP test in a foreign language you've never studied, like one of those anxiety nightmares common among overachieving students like I once was). It's hard to talk intelligently about religion, church, God, the Bible, or whatever because sometimes it just feels like you speak English and I speak Arabic. I get this feeling a lot in confirmation class too, but at least I expect it there! That's where the youth go to learn the language we use in our community.

Writing this post makes me feel like I'm speaking another language too--I'm not making this at all clear. It feels confusing to think about. I want to be able to talk about things that are important to me, but I'm not sure that I can do that very effectively all the time, or even most of the time, to people who aren't already "insiders." This bothers me, because many of my peers (in age, anyway) are not insiders, at least not in the things I find myself in the thick of (was that a sentence?). Now, granted, I've never been a cultural insider with my peers--I'm a weirdo who doesn't listen to much music, doesn't watch TV, and doesn't like movie theaters...a weirdo who prefers reading and NPR and occasionally some classical music (or maybe some classic 80's rock...). Maybe that's why I feel this language barrier--perhaps I don't share a language with my generation? I'm not sure. But then I think about the things my generation generally seems to want, the things we generally seem to be passionate about, and I think I fit right in. I share some cultural, intellectual, and even theological assumptions with much of my generation. I share values and goals with much of my generation. And sometimes that creates a disconnect between me and other generations and their cultural assumptions, values, theology, etc...

I feel a teensy bit, not a lot but a little, like the teacher in Freedom Writers. She had things she wanted to share but she didn't speak the right language. But she learned...sometimes the hard way. But her students learned to speak her language a little too. I guess I'm not sure how to facilitate two-way learning on that.

Okay, enough rambling. I'm relatively sure of just one thing: this post made no sense. I apologize if it felt like a random foreign language...maybe I'll translate it into another language and re-post it later, just for effect, you know?