but now I'm going on vacation for a week...you can find me on the Vermont Cheese Trail. Back next week. ta!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
blog sabbath, accidentally and on purpose
I apparently stopped blogging for a while there. Sorry about that. Nothing in particular happened to cause that...I guess I just didn't have anything to say (or nothing to say that wouldn't get me into trouble!).
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Jesus' Feet--a sermon for Easter 7A
Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Jesus’ Feet
Acts 1.6-14
5 June 2011, Easter 7A
When they had come together, they asked him, ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’ He replied, ‘It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going and they were gazing up towards heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.’
Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.
This is one of those stories that makes those of us who plan worship actually consider the possibility of rigging up a pulley system that would allow Sherri to fly in and out of the sanctuary. Lucky for you (and for her!), we resisted the temptation. But really—what a strange story. It’s one of those stories that demands drama in the telling, and also one that requires us to suspend our disbelief the same way we would in a play or a movie. When I was new to the whole church thing, I remember looking at this story, then looking at my pastor, and wondering what on earth kind of crazy cult of nonsense I had gotten myself into. I mean….Jesus floated away into the sky? It’s almost enough to make me wish that the rapture had been predicted for yesterday instead of two weeks ago, because I could really use that story right now—it sounds almost normal compared to this.
But there it is, right there in the Bible…the opening scene of the book of Acts, which is filled with even more bizarre stories than this one. The full name of the book is “The Acts of the Apostles”—which sort of implies that this prelude we’re hearing now does in fact lead the apostles to do things other than stand around looking at the sky. Lots of people have said the book would be better called “Acts of the Spirit” because everything that happens in the book is a manifestation of what the Holy Spirit is doing in the world and the new church…and that’s fair, but since Pentecost isn’t until next week, we have to focus a little bit.
But focus on what? The artwork and iconography depicting this story almost uniformly shows either a floaty Jesus levitating with his robes wafting on the breeze or pictures the disciples staring up at a random pair of feet.
Well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but yes, I do think we should be focusing on Jesus’ feet.
Just not in the way the artwork shows.
This story begins with the disciples asking Jesus “is this the time you’ll do what we all know a Messiah is supposed to do, bringing down Rome and reinstating the proper political and religious systems of Israel?” In other words, they look at their leader and say “are you going to do your job or what?” We’ve all done this—looked at a leader and expected them to do something for us. We’ve looked at the President and wondered why he can’t solve the country’s, or the world’s, problems by himself. We’ve looked at doctors with “can’t you just fix it” eyes. We’ve looked at our pastors or our session or our deacons and wondered why they won’t just do all the ministries of the church, why they won’t be the Christian on behalf of all of us so we could go about our lives, why they can’t seem to continually offer everything we want by themselves. We’ve even stood on the mountain with Jesus and asked him this same question—“is this the time when you’ll make everything right again?”
But Jesus redirects the disciples’ attention, and rather than giving a yes or no answer to what they expect him to do, he tells them what he expects them to do. “You will be my witnesses,” he says, “throughout this promised land, and beyond, all the way to the edges of the earth—to every place you can imagine, and some you can’t imagine.”
If that was how Jesus answered my question, I would probably stand staring up at his disappearing feet too.
Though, come to think of it, that pretty much is how Jesus has answered most of my questions. Almost every time I read scripture, and nearly every time I ask God to do something in the world or in my life, the answer I hear is more like “what are you going to do about it?” and less like “why yes, I can’t believe I overlooked this problem—thank you so much for bringing it to my attention, I’ll get right on it!” And I suppose if even Jesus wouldn’t fix the world for us, and if even Jesus won’t agree to just be the Christian for all of us, then it’s time for us to let go of that understanding of faith, the one where God just does things for us like a cosmic butler, and start thinking differently. Faith is about more than looking at the sky, whether in fear or in hope.
Then along come the inevitable angels, asking why we’re standing looking up at the sky when there are plenty of footprints to follow right here on earth. After all, hadn’t Jesus been walking around everywhere and showing us what to do? Hadn’t he washed our feet and called us his friends? Perhaps it’s time to go down from the mountain and look for Jesus’ feet somewhere else.
So we walk, slowly at first, down the mountain…heavy with the second wave of realization that Jesus is not going to make everything better according to our specifications…and then heavier with the realization that somehow he had just given us the job of making the world a better place according to HIS specifications. That wasn’t how we meant for this all to turn out. So we head home and fortify ourselves for the work ahead. It’s a long way to the ends of the earth, after all.
Once the disciples got back to the upper room, they did what any good church would do—they had a prayer meeting and a potluck. Which, honestly, is pretty darn close to following in Jesus’ footsteps! He taught us to pray, he taught us to eat together, he taught us to offer hospitality. By gathering in that upper room, the disciples were preparing themselves to look for Jesus’ feet out in the world rather than up in the sky. As they gathered at the table, they told stories—stories they would go out and tell to anyone who would listen. They prayed together—filling their souls for the journey ahead. They ate together—nourishing their bodies and practicing for the many meals they would share as a foretaste of God’s kingdom. They sang—letting their voices ring out so that others might hear the good news of God’s deeds of power. And when the Holy Spirit wind comes rushing in on Pentecost, pushing them out of the upper room and out into the world to be Christ’s witnesses, to walk in his footsteps and to be his hands and feet, all that practice will pay off.
What does it look like to be Christ’s witness, to look for his feet, to the ends of the earth? It might look like being a storyteller at Vacation Bible School. It might look like making PADS lunches on Friday mornings. It might look like Kristen Bauman’s journey to work with children in Vietnam, or it might look like following her blog and praying for her and the people she will meet. It might look like a week spent on an Indian reservation, or a day spent stocking the shelves at the food pantry. It might look like being a confirmation mentor, or teaching Sunday School, or going on a mission trip. It might look like being the best teacher or nurse or engineer or designer or administrator you can be, knowing that each person you work with is made in the image of God.
But in every case, without exception, it will look like watching in the world, not in the clouds, for signs of Christ’s footsteps, and then showing those signs to others. It will look like joining with others in prayer and practice, including at this table and every other table. It will look like keeping your eyes open, and following the feet.
May it be so. Amen.
RCLPC
Jesus’ Feet
Acts 1.6-14
5 June 2011, Easter 7A
When they had come together, they asked him, ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’ He replied, ‘It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going and they were gazing up towards heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.’
Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.
This is one of those stories that makes those of us who plan worship actually consider the possibility of rigging up a pulley system that would allow Sherri to fly in and out of the sanctuary. Lucky for you (and for her!), we resisted the temptation. But really—what a strange story. It’s one of those stories that demands drama in the telling, and also one that requires us to suspend our disbelief the same way we would in a play or a movie. When I was new to the whole church thing, I remember looking at this story, then looking at my pastor, and wondering what on earth kind of crazy cult of nonsense I had gotten myself into. I mean….Jesus floated away into the sky? It’s almost enough to make me wish that the rapture had been predicted for yesterday instead of two weeks ago, because I could really use that story right now—it sounds almost normal compared to this.
But there it is, right there in the Bible…the opening scene of the book of Acts, which is filled with even more bizarre stories than this one. The full name of the book is “The Acts of the Apostles”—which sort of implies that this prelude we’re hearing now does in fact lead the apostles to do things other than stand around looking at the sky. Lots of people have said the book would be better called “Acts of the Spirit” because everything that happens in the book is a manifestation of what the Holy Spirit is doing in the world and the new church…and that’s fair, but since Pentecost isn’t until next week, we have to focus a little bit.
But focus on what? The artwork and iconography depicting this story almost uniformly shows either a floaty Jesus levitating with his robes wafting on the breeze or pictures the disciples staring up at a random pair of feet.
Well, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but yes, I do think we should be focusing on Jesus’ feet.
Just not in the way the artwork shows.
This story begins with the disciples asking Jesus “is this the time you’ll do what we all know a Messiah is supposed to do, bringing down Rome and reinstating the proper political and religious systems of Israel?” In other words, they look at their leader and say “are you going to do your job or what?” We’ve all done this—looked at a leader and expected them to do something for us. We’ve looked at the President and wondered why he can’t solve the country’s, or the world’s, problems by himself. We’ve looked at doctors with “can’t you just fix it” eyes. We’ve looked at our pastors or our session or our deacons and wondered why they won’t just do all the ministries of the church, why they won’t be the Christian on behalf of all of us so we could go about our lives, why they can’t seem to continually offer everything we want by themselves. We’ve even stood on the mountain with Jesus and asked him this same question—“is this the time when you’ll make everything right again?”
But Jesus redirects the disciples’ attention, and rather than giving a yes or no answer to what they expect him to do, he tells them what he expects them to do. “You will be my witnesses,” he says, “throughout this promised land, and beyond, all the way to the edges of the earth—to every place you can imagine, and some you can’t imagine.”
If that was how Jesus answered my question, I would probably stand staring up at his disappearing feet too.
Though, come to think of it, that pretty much is how Jesus has answered most of my questions. Almost every time I read scripture, and nearly every time I ask God to do something in the world or in my life, the answer I hear is more like “what are you going to do about it?” and less like “why yes, I can’t believe I overlooked this problem—thank you so much for bringing it to my attention, I’ll get right on it!” And I suppose if even Jesus wouldn’t fix the world for us, and if even Jesus won’t agree to just be the Christian for all of us, then it’s time for us to let go of that understanding of faith, the one where God just does things for us like a cosmic butler, and start thinking differently. Faith is about more than looking at the sky, whether in fear or in hope.
Then along come the inevitable angels, asking why we’re standing looking up at the sky when there are plenty of footprints to follow right here on earth. After all, hadn’t Jesus been walking around everywhere and showing us what to do? Hadn’t he washed our feet and called us his friends? Perhaps it’s time to go down from the mountain and look for Jesus’ feet somewhere else.
So we walk, slowly at first, down the mountain…heavy with the second wave of realization that Jesus is not going to make everything better according to our specifications…and then heavier with the realization that somehow he had just given us the job of making the world a better place according to HIS specifications. That wasn’t how we meant for this all to turn out. So we head home and fortify ourselves for the work ahead. It’s a long way to the ends of the earth, after all.
Once the disciples got back to the upper room, they did what any good church would do—they had a prayer meeting and a potluck. Which, honestly, is pretty darn close to following in Jesus’ footsteps! He taught us to pray, he taught us to eat together, he taught us to offer hospitality. By gathering in that upper room, the disciples were preparing themselves to look for Jesus’ feet out in the world rather than up in the sky. As they gathered at the table, they told stories—stories they would go out and tell to anyone who would listen. They prayed together—filling their souls for the journey ahead. They ate together—nourishing their bodies and practicing for the many meals they would share as a foretaste of God’s kingdom. They sang—letting their voices ring out so that others might hear the good news of God’s deeds of power. And when the Holy Spirit wind comes rushing in on Pentecost, pushing them out of the upper room and out into the world to be Christ’s witnesses, to walk in his footsteps and to be his hands and feet, all that practice will pay off.
What does it look like to be Christ’s witness, to look for his feet, to the ends of the earth? It might look like being a storyteller at Vacation Bible School. It might look like making PADS lunches on Friday mornings. It might look like Kristen Bauman’s journey to work with children in Vietnam, or it might look like following her blog and praying for her and the people she will meet. It might look like a week spent on an Indian reservation, or a day spent stocking the shelves at the food pantry. It might look like being a confirmation mentor, or teaching Sunday School, or going on a mission trip. It might look like being the best teacher or nurse or engineer or designer or administrator you can be, knowing that each person you work with is made in the image of God.
But in every case, without exception, it will look like watching in the world, not in the clouds, for signs of Christ’s footsteps, and then showing those signs to others. It will look like joining with others in prayer and practice, including at this table and every other table. It will look like keeping your eyes open, and following the feet.
May it be so. Amen.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
more reading
I have been feeling like my imagination is all dried up, so I've been reading a lot to try to replenish it...among the things I've read lately:
My S3 group read this for our first study together...I confess that I didn't finish it in time for our conversation, though I was much closer to the end than I realized (one of the downsides of the kindle--I can't tell when the endnotes begin, so the % finished is misleading!). We all generally seemed to agree that this book had good things to say but we were kind of beyond them already, or else they didn't exactly apply to the church (for instance, churches are unlikely to be using sophisticated monitoring services that tell us whenever someone uses the word "presbyterian" in a blog, tweet, or FB post....). I felt like there were a few applicable things, but they were few and far between, and often tucked in the midst of stories about businesses. I felt pulled between obsessing over the stories and glossing over them because they weren't directly and obviously applicable, but overall I'm mostly glad I read them all. I confess I did skim a few sections.
Things in this book that I think are directly applicable to the church:
1. Decide on a purpose and strategy for engaging in social media, and make sure the institutions (and the people using SM on behalf of the institution) use it responsibly and with that vision always clearly in mind.
2. pay attention to what people are saying and where they're saying it--and respond. Don't just leave stuff hanging out there, whether on your church facebook page or a church member's blog, while you take a Presbyterian hour (aka 3 years) to come up with a committee that will look into how to respond.
3. Don't think you can get away with not engaging in the online and social media world. you can't, so figure out how and why you're going to do it, and then do it and do it well.
Interestingly, on my way home from the trip where we talked about this book, I flew into Milwaukee airport (MKE). I tweeted, with my twitter account still unlocked, about what a fantastic and easy experience MKE is and how much I loved it. Within 24 hours MKE had tweeted back at me, returning the love and thanking me for letting people know that it's a great O'Hare alternative for the savvy traveler. I immediately followed them, of course, and also liked their facebook page...and while I don't want everyone who flies out of O'Hare to start going to Milwaukee (because it would make it less relaxed for me, and I'm selfish like that!), I do want them to be a successful and awesome airport. And they clearly have a social media strategy and a monitoring service that's working wonders, and they know how to respond and keep their customers in the loop. It was like a case study straight out of the book, only more personalized!
We all know I have a penchant for princess books. This one is about Juana la Loca (the mad) of Spain, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella. For the record, I don't believe she was mad. And the way this historical novel is written, if she is mad then she was clearly driven there by the men in her life, who were always scheming ways to take advantage of her. The story is charming at first, and filled with the usual things you expect of a historical novel that focuses on princesses--pretty dresses, betrothals, nervousness, court life, passion. Pretty much in that order. But soon it becomes a page-turning horror-flick of intrigue, abuse, drama, loss, pain, and betrayal...all mixed in with pretty dresses and passion. It's quite the fast-paced novel. I don't want to give it away for those who enjoy the princess book genre, but let's just say: the men come off looking pretty bad in this one. and, historically speaking, that's probably fairly accurate. There are a number of choice words I used in regard to the men in the story, and even men in general, while reading this book--none of them are appropriate for this blog, but I suspect you can use your imagination. Suffice it to say, I actually felt better about my own (lack of a) romantic life when this was over. And I really liked the book too.
I really enjoyed these reflections on the pastoral life from two UCC pastors, one male and one female. They take turns writing the chapters, so each one is in a distinct voice, and I enjoyed that as well. They reflect on such things as family, work, boundaries, grace, hope, call...and they do it with a tone that draws the reader in. So many books about pastors, or call, or church life, or what it means to be a pastor, or whatever, are B-O-R-I-N-G. They make it seem either much more impressive or much more simple than it actually is. I enjoyed the nuance and the recognition of complexity, the undercurrent of hope, and the reminders to ground life in prayer. I did not enjoy that one of Martin's chapters flat out says the very thing I have been struggling with lately: "It also requires the kind of clarity that does not confuse people's diverse expectations with a job description, which means that it requires being willing to disappoint people."
Let's just say that I don't handle disappointment well...in particular, me disappointing other people is not really on the agenda of things that are acceptable. It turns out that this is good for exactly no one, due to the fact that it is extremely bad for me...in fact, I end up disappointing myself in the effort not to disappoint anyone else. To have this pointed out to me not just by my therapist but then by the book I am devouring is a cruel twist of the Spirit. just turn that knife a little further, please.
anyway, this was a great book of reflection on life AS a pastor, not life AFTER being a pastor or what life might be like IF you were a pastor. Highly recommended.
A re-read, but so worth it. Not only are the illustrations fun, but the content is pretty much exactly what I believe. Or almost, anyway. I love when books agree with me. (LOL) I also love when books accessibly and in clear language explain that God is love, period, and what that means for our theology and our life. In particular, I enjoy the image that "God loves you at least as much as the person who loves you the most, when they are loving you the most." yes. at least.
This was free for kindle, as are zillions of other classic books, and seemed like a good classic work to spark my imagination for a bit. Somehow, I don't think I'd read this before, though there may have been a movie or a cartoon or something? Anyway, I don't remember reading it...and I think I would have remembered all the scientific mumbo-jumbo peppered throughout. LOL. The whole time I was reading it I was picturing the submarine ride at Disneyland, which I think maybe used to be 20,000 leagues themed but now is Finding Nemo themed. Either way, the ride is so overrated, I cannot believe people stand in line for 2 hours for that ride. Anyway....I kind of loved this book. I read it today, on my day off, and pretty much couldn't put it down. I didn't even want to play facebook games because I wanted to know what was going to happen to Captain Nemo and his captive guests as they travelled the world. You have to admit it's kind of exciting to imagine speeding around the world via the gulf stream or under icebergs or into dead volcanoes, walking around on the ocean floor, hiking to Atlantis and harvesting seaweed and watching pearls form. I mean, it's cool. I enjoyed the visuals my brain created while I was reading, even if I did have to skim a bunch of stuff that reads like a made up marine biology textbook. but I also, as a 21st century environmentalist whose mother loved the oceans more than pretty much anything on land (except the fam, of course!), was super uncomfortable with the ways the ocean and its life were used for sport. Whaling, "hunting," battling octopus, spearing sharks, have turtle fillet for dinner...Let's just say I didn't handle all that stuff very well. It kind of turns my stomach. The best moment in the book (at least in this area) is when Captain Nemo refuses "The Canadian" (a whaler) the opportunity to pursue and hunt whales in the Antarctic, because it would be only for sport and that kind of killing is unacceptable. Second best, the professor's rant about how whalers have killed so many manatees that the ecosystem is out of balance, so stop it already. Too bad those moments are surrounded by descriptions of sealskin shoes and eating turtle and whatnot. Not to mention, you know, the killing of people, which we never find out the reason for...but still, it's a classic for a reason, and if you haven't read it, you should!
Friday, June 03, 2011
Friday Five: Repeat, Re-Run, Re-Do...
Songbird, over at RGBP, has noted that it's that time of year when TV shows end the season and head into summer reruns. Not having regular TV, I'd forgotten about that, but I appreciate the potential opportunity to catch up! Anyway, she writes, "In honor of this annual Time Warp, please share five things worth a repeat. These could be books, movies, CDs, recipes, vacations, or even TV shows."
let's see...five things worth repeating...I might have to do five categories so I can fit multiple things in each category! LOL.
In the realm of tv/movies:
*Any show by Joss Whedon (Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Dollhouse...).
*Doctor Who
*Battlestar Galactica
*The Princess Bride! (Yes, I'm *that* girl who can quote the entire movie from the beginning, including sound effects....)
*Harry Potter, especially the 5th/6th/7th movies
*The BBC/A&E Pride and Prejudice
honorable mention: Eddie Izzard...anything you can find on video or netflix, seriously.
in books:
*well, I'm a pastor so I probably have to say that the Bible falls in this category...
*Again, Harry Potter
*and again, Pride and Prejudice
*and again, the Princess Bride. who knew books could be so amazing?
*Mary Oliver...all.
in music:
*the Indigo Girls--umm, everything they've ever put out is worth putting on repeat
*Mozart's 23rd piano concerto
*Beethoven's 6th symphony
*Styx...perhaps not their entire repertoire, but a good chunk. The Return To Paradise 2-CD set is a good start.
*Carrie Newcomer--again, everything she's got is incredible.
honorable mentions: the Book of Mormon soundtrack, the Barenaked Ladies, the soundtrack to Rent, David LaMotte, Mendelssohn's 4th symphony.
in live performance, should I ever have the opportunity again:
*The Book of Mormon (hands down the best musical I've ever seen)
*The Rite of Spring, fully staged by a ballet company with live music. There is NOTHING like this, nothing. you will be blown away.
*The Lion King (again, I've seen it twice and would go again in a heartbeat)
*David LaMotte (ask for a song from his children's collection!)
*The Indigo Girls (omg, amazing...every time, amazing, and no matter the venue, amazing.)
*Wicked (which I've seen twice and loved!)
in food:
*almost anything with potatoes, especially mashed potatoes.
*seitan "pot roast"
*locally grown illinois corn at the height of summer
*my aunt's s'mores cupcakes (vegan!)--I wish I had the recipe
*asparagus from my local grower, in season right now
*turtle sundaes
honorable mention: Annie's deluxe mac-n-cheese, green bean casserole, bean burritos, papa john's pizza
and a bonus: places to visit:
*Iona.
*Rome.
*Petra (Jordan).
*Damascus (well, at least before...I don't know what it's like now.)
*San Diego.
*Athens.
*Jerusalem and Bethlehem (not far apart geographically, but...).
honorable mentions: Disneyland!, the pyramids, Nile Cruises, Edinburgh, Amman (Jordan), Washington DC, Hawaii.
and a few minutes later, another bonus: restaurants worth a re-visit!
*the Laughing Seed Cafe, Asheville NC. best vegetarian restaurant in the country, imho.
*Abreo, in Rockford IL. yum.
*Chowpatti International Restaurant in Arlington Heights, IL. Indian Nachos...delish.
*the Flying Biscuit in ATL. dude, the biscuits...so good.
*Sipz Vegetarian Fuzion Cafe in San Diego. vegan sushi...and so much other goodness!
honorable mention: The Brick Store in Decatur GA, Duke's here in Crystal Lake, Krystal Thai (about 2 miles from my house), Graham's 318 for sipping chocolate in Geneva IL, The Chicago Diner, and Bin 36.
and you? what's worth repeating?
Thursday, June 02, 2011
a variation on pad thai, with asparagus
for those who've asked, here's what I made for dinner...
soak some rice sticks (not too long, they get mushy-sticky--just until they're slightly harder than al dente) in warm water. drain.
make peanut sauce: peanut butter (I like crunchy), sesame oil, rice vinegar (substitute a mix of plain white vinegar and lime juice if you don't have any), tamari/soy sauce, brown rice syrup/agave. mix. you'll need more than you think. and it'll keep if you have too much.
yes, I know pad thai is not made with peanut sauce. but seriously, I'm not going to make a vegetarian tamarind/fish sauce at home, and peanut sauce is delicious.
cut up asparagus and half an onion.
get wok very very hot. add sesame oil. when oil is hot, add onion, minced garlic, asparagus. when asparagus is very green, add noodles. pour sauce over noodles. stir fry quickly!
You can crack an egg into the wok in between the vegetable and noodle steps, if you like egg in your pad thai.
I served mine on a bed of fresh spinach, and topped with shredded carrot. if you don't use lime juice in the sauce, a squeeze of lime will really bring out the flavor.
mmmmmm.......
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tonight I've been in the midst of a conversation about all kinds of exciting things, bouncing ideas around, brainstorming, giggling, despairing, hoping, and planning. There's been a fast-paced back-and-forth about music, liturgy, church, children/families, discipleship, and our least favorite praise songs. New resources are being born, new ideas are taking shape, energy is flowing.
And the whole conversation has taken place in 140-character snippets, on Twitter.
I have all kinds of new ideas, and can't wait to try some of them out with people here...and it came from Twitter.
Never let anyone say it's just a silly collection of what people eat for breakfast--there's cool stuff going on there.
also, for the record, I only post about my breakfast on facebook. ;-)
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday Five--allergies
It's been what feels like a hundred years since I played the Friday Five...but I'm starting a long weekend where the only thing on the calendar is to show up at church Sunday morning. Off today, tomorrow, Sunday afternoon, and Monday--it's like a pajama party for me and the kitties! Not to mention the sun is kind of shining, which makes everything better. Therefore today I'll join the fun over at RGBP, where Mary Beth says she is allergic to ligustrum.
Ligustrum is a type of privet hedge and it is very invasive. VERY. It's a spready green bush with leaves of various sizes and tiny white flowers of a head-piercing sweetness.
The house I grew up in had 14-foot ligustrum bushes on three sides. The house I live in now, 250 miles to the north, also has several...they are a different variety but the flowers still get me. Instant sinus attack, that's what these are. And: they are in bloom.
You can remove them, but they grow back. Forever and ever. My husband recently had his helper cut all the blooming branches off of this one, next to where I park my car. What a guy!
So, thinking about allergies:
1. Do you experience any seasonal allergies? Are you allergic to anything else?
And, of course, in the realm of things-it-sucks-to-be-allergic-to-if-you're-a-pastor, I'm allergic to easter lilies. in a hardcore eyes-watering (and not because the service was so moving), can't breathe kind of way. Which I discovered my first Easter here, when the sanctuary was covered in lilies and I spent 4 services completely unable to see or breathe. There are some other flowers I have trouble with if I'm going to be up-close-and-personal with them (aka if they're next to my seat on the chancel or something) as well.
As a vegetarian, when I lived in Egypt I told people I was allergic to meat. "vegetarian" is a word but not a concept people understand. LOL.
2. What kinds of symptoms do you experience during your allergic reactions?
sniffliness mostly, except RE lilies, which also involve copious amounts of eye watering and itching.
3. How do you manage your allergies? (ie: medication, avoidance, alternative therapies, etc)
Ligustrum is a type of privet hedge and it is very invasive. VERY. It's a spready green bush with leaves of various sizes and tiny white flowers of a head-piercing sweetness.
The house I grew up in had 14-foot ligustrum bushes on three sides. The house I live in now, 250 miles to the north, also has several...they are a different variety but the flowers still get me. Instant sinus attack, that's what these are. And: they are in bloom.
You can remove them, but they grow back. Forever and ever. My husband recently had his helper cut all the blooming branches off of this one, next to where I park my car. What a guy!
So, thinking about allergies:
1. Do you experience any seasonal allergies? Are you allergic to anything else?
I have lived almost my entire life with no allergies. I'm one of the lucky ones, I know. However, after living in Atlanta where the pollen is so thick it covers everything--even inside houses with closed windows--and then in Cairo where the air is basically made of pollution, I have developed some allergies of the sniffly type. I don't know exactly what I'm now allergic to, but it's something gross.
And, of course, in the realm of things-it-sucks-to-be-allergic-to-if-you're-a-pastor, I'm allergic to easter lilies. in a hardcore eyes-watering (and not because the service was so moving), can't breathe kind of way. Which I discovered my first Easter here, when the sanctuary was covered in lilies and I spent 4 services completely unable to see or breathe. There are some other flowers I have trouble with if I'm going to be up-close-and-personal with them (aka if they're next to my seat on the chancel or something) as well.As a vegetarian, when I lived in Egypt I told people I was allergic to meat. "vegetarian" is a word but not a concept people understand. LOL.
2. What kinds of symptoms do you experience during your allergic reactions?
sniffliness mostly, except RE lilies, which also involve copious amounts of eye watering and itching.
3. How do you manage your allergies? (ie: medication, avoidance, alternative therapies, etc)
mostly I avoid avoid avoid. We no longer have lilies on Easter--now we have tulips and daffodils, which are beautiful and not nearly so difficult. I do take Claritin on high-flower-concentration Sundays, and occasional other days when I'm going to be out and about near flowers or pollution.
4. What is the strangest allergy you've ever heard of?
4. What is the strangest allergy you've ever heard of?
One of my dear friends is deathly allergic to oregano. (She also has allergies to eggplant and bell peppers...) I find this completely bizarre, and also a good reason to go out for sushi or Mexican food rather than the Italian/pizza places so popular around here....
5. How do you feel about school and social policies that banning peanuts and other allergens?
5. How do you feel about school and social policies that banning peanuts and other allergens?
I have to admit I kind of like the no-peanut rules. We do have one teenager at church with a peanut allergy (thankfully just ingestion, not contact or airborne) and it's so much easier to just remind people we have a policy than to ask them to remember the one child with the allergy. It makes it safer all around. School-wise, if I were a parent of a child with an allergy, I would love the help on that front because it can be so hard if you're the one kid who can't eat something, or the kid who hasn't figured out how to ask/say no yet. (For example: vegetarian kids who are given hot dogs that look just like the veggie dogs they eat at home, and they don't know to ask, and they don't want to be the one kid not eating one...)
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
imagining myself back to sunny SoCal...
The weather here has turned from kinda-nice to completely-gross, with sky so dark it looks like twilight, pouring rain, and booming thunder. And the temperature has dropped about 30 degrees (or more) since two days ago. blah.
Max engaged in the ever popular rolling-down-a-hill activity. Good times! much giggling ensued.
Of course we visited the Land of Mickey....
I did not ride the teacups, as they make me want to vomit. We did, however, ride basically everything else in both Disneyland and California Adventure. There were very few lines, and Max is tall enough for everything except California Screamin'...he even got to ride Indiana Jones for the first time (and second time!). Indy is still my favorite ride in the park. Space Mountain is a close second. And I rode the Matterhorn for the first time in 24 years and it was not as rough/jerky as I remembered--it was hilarious. At every ride, we would ask Max who he wanted to ride with and he always said "I want to ride with Teri!" oh yeah. :-)
We played in the Bugs Life water area when it got hot...immediately after which, he was freezing. LOL.
We visited the San Diego Zoo twice (the benefits of membership!), so I got to see all the pandas. yay!
Bai Yun loves her some bamboo....we're hoping she's preggers again and there might be a new zoobaby this summer!
baby hippo! mom was pushing him around the floor of the tank, then up to breathe, then around to "swim"...it was hilarious.
it was bird mating season...the ducks were insane, and the peacocks were strutting their stuff in full regalia.
Max appears to be peahen colored...luckily, the peacock still saw a difference between a girly bird and a 6 year old. :-)
Therefore, I will blog about my vacation, which was a month ago and therefore needs to be refreshed in cyber-memory. :-)
The weather was gorgeous...
I visited the LaBrea tar pits for the first time. They are super weird..and you can totally see how animals got stuck. It looks like just a mud puddle, until the creepy tar bubbles start oozing out.
Ground sloths (shown actual size!) are one of many species now extinct whose bones have been found in the tar pits. can you imagine these things wandering around southern california?
Ground sloths (shown actual size!) are one of many species now extinct whose bones have been found in the tar pits. can you imagine these things wandering around southern california?
We went whale watching and saw thousands of dolphins. they were so fun, playing in the wake, joyriding along the front of the boat, and generally just being dolphin-y.
we also saw lots of sea lions lounging around--on the back of boats, on buoys, on anything they could find to lounge on. On the other side of this buoy was one sea lion who was clearly swimming around going "when is it my turn? come on, guys, you said we could swap out...let me up!"
Max engaged in the ever popular rolling-down-a-hill activity. Good times! much giggling ensued.
Of course we visited the Land of Mickey....
I did not ride the teacups, as they make me want to vomit. We did, however, ride basically everything else in both Disneyland and California Adventure. There were very few lines, and Max is tall enough for everything except California Screamin'...he even got to ride Indiana Jones for the first time (and second time!). Indy is still my favorite ride in the park. Space Mountain is a close second. And I rode the Matterhorn for the first time in 24 years and it was not as rough/jerky as I remembered--it was hilarious. At every ride, we would ask Max who he wanted to ride with and he always said "I want to ride with Teri!" oh yeah. :-)
We played in the Bugs Life water area when it got hot...immediately after which, he was freezing. LOL.
We visited the San Diego Zoo twice (the benefits of membership!), so I got to see all the pandas. yay!
Bai Yun loves her some bamboo....we're hoping she's preggers again and there might be a new zoobaby this summer!
Gao Gao almost always has his back to the crowd when I'm there...munching away.
Yun Zi has gotten so big--he's a real grown up panda now. he had some treats and was looking to see if there were any more. delish!
of course, there are also other animals at the zoo. (LOL)
baby hippo! mom was pushing him around the floor of the tank, then up to breathe, then around to "swim"...it was hilarious.
it was bird mating season...the ducks were insane, and the peacocks were strutting their stuff in full regalia.
Max appears to be peahen colored...luckily, the peacock still saw a difference between a girly bird and a 6 year old. :-)
Aside from all the incredible food (which I ate too fast to take pictures of...nomnomnom) and the fun conversations had with my fam (including some very intense conversation about various games for the iPod), that pretty well sums up my awesome vacation. Loved it! :-)
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Jesus Glasses--a sermon for Easter 5A
Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Jesus Glasses
John 14.1-14
22 May 2011, Easter 5A
‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’
Philip said to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
I feel like there's some serious irony that this is the lectionary text for the day after the rapture--I mean, wouldn't it be better for the rapture to be tonight, after we've all heard about this?
May it be so. Amen.
RCLPC
Jesus Glasses
John 14.1-14
22 May 2011, Easter 5A
‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’
Philip said to him, ‘Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, “Show us the Father”? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.
I feel like there's some serious irony that this is the lectionary text for the day after the rapture--I mean, wouldn't it be better for the rapture to be tonight, after we've all heard about this?
Jesus said, “I will come and take you to myself”…and even though he also said that even he did not know the day or the hour, we have a long and proud tradition of predicting the date for the return of Jesus, the rapture when the faithful will be caught up with Jesus and transported to heaven or, depending on your tradition, to the newly re-created earth. People predicted the rapture for March or October of 1844, for sometime in 1981, for 2000, for 6pm last night, and for the year 2060. The fact that we’re all here after last night’s rapture is a little surprising, and either means that Presbyterians didn’t make the cut or that our fascination with The End is obscuring the rest of the story.
Looking around at the world, you can kind of see why. I mean, something is obviously not right. In a world where children die of hunger, tornadoes wipe out whole towns, war is seen as a solution, and Justin Timberlake’s Saturday Night Live performance trends on twitter while people riot for food and water, sometimes it seems like the only thing we can do is hope for a way out.
But Jesus doesn’t seem to be offering an emergency exit slide. In fact, he doesn’t seem much interested in exiting at all—he tells Phillip that he’s already seen God, and he tells Thomas that he already knows the way. Is it possible that we can already see God, and that we already know the way, and we’ve all been so busy looking for a way out that we’ve missed the way in? Jesus says that his mission is to bring abundant life, that in God’s house there are many rooms—enough for everyone—that loving God by loving our neighbor, and vice versa, are how we are to go about life. It’s as if he sees something different when he looks at the world. Instead of seeing a hopeless and horrible place that needs to be destroyed and re-made, he sees a place loved and redeemed, a place of wonder and hope.
We need to get ourselves some of those Jesus Glasses. Because it seems like we’ve been looking at the world all wrong…fuzzy, like watching a 3D movie without the cheesy paper glasses. It turns out we really need those glasses, because our vision is in need of some correction.
In the early years of the church, people preparing for baptism were taught that when they were baptized and entered into the community and the community’s sacred space, their eyes would be opened to how God sees the world. They came up out of the water and the first thing they saw were beautiful mosaics evoking the garden of Eden, and their first food was the overflowing bounty of communion from a table filled with bread, fruit, cheese, wine, and all manner of good things. They joined a community that saw differently, a body that believed its mission was to show the rest of the world what God could see—a world beloved, a world created with purpose and called good, a paradise, right here on earth. This paradise was not utopia, with no problems and no work required, but it’s God’s paradise nonetheless. And their job was to share their vision with others, to show what living as a citizen of the kingdom of God looked like.
This is not an easy task, to live as a citizen of the kingdom of God right here and now. It’s much easier to think that’s something we do when we die. But in a world where food rationing was used to control and pacify the masses, Jesus fed people and showed them how to share their resources; in a world where children were property to be used, Jesus said we must all become like a child; in a world where violence is equated with power, Jesus showed the power of love. Living with kingdom vision will mean following in Jesus’ footsteps here, today—did you catch in that reading when he said that those who believe in him will do the works he has done, and even greater works. We’ll feed the hungry, and also create a system where no one goes hungry in our world of plenty. We’ll heal the afflicted, and also stop hurting people. We’ll love our enemies, and work to create a world where hate is no more. It won’t be easy, but with our Jesus Glasses on, it’s possible. Jesus said that the kingdom of God is here…we just need to open our eyes.
I wonder, then, if we might think about the rapture differently. Perhaps the end of the world as we know it is just that—the end of our way of knowing. Maybe it did happen yesterday. Maybe it’s been happening to people all along, for centuries. Maybe it’s happening right now. Because what if being caught up with Jesus is not about people floating up into the sky, but about people seeing with kingdom vision, seeing God here and now, and living in the kingdom of heaven right now, today? We look through the lens of Christ and behold, God is doing a new thing—we can see a new heaven and a new earth, because for us, the old is gone and the new has come. There are glimpses of God’s work all around us, and glimpses of God whenever we look into the face of another person created in God’s image, and glimpses of the kingdom wherever people are living and loving and doing justice. Through the Body of Christ, Jesus comes again to show us the way, the truth, and the life, and they are more beautiful and more difficult than we ever imagined.
The church used to teach that we, the body of Christ, are living in the kingdom of heaven right now, that in baptism the scales fell from our eyes and we could see paradise here on earth, that our citizenship is in God’s kingdom and so we live differently and show the world a glimpse of that wonder.
Over the years that message has often been lost in all the hubbub, but it’s still there—in scripture and even in the good old Presbyterian Book of Order, which lists one of the 6 most important purposes of the church as “the exhibition of the kingdom of heaven to the world.” Our job as the body of Christ is to show God’s kingdom to the world, wherever we go and whatever we do. Once we open our eyes, we’ll see the beauty and hope and love infusing the world. We’ll see that God has not failed to bring the kingdom, we have failed to see the power of God in unexpected ways. We'll have kingdom vision, and there’s no going back. We’ll no longer be willing to settle for the status quo, we won’t be able to step aside and let the way of the world go on as it has been. When we live as kingdom-citizens, we can’t help changing the world—and we’ll be so busy doing justice, loving mercy, and walking with God we won’t have time to look for an escape from the world God so loves. When people look at us as members of the body of Christ, when people look at us as a community, when people look at the church, they should see the kingdom of heaven. If that’s going to happen, we need to see it too—so let’s put our JesusGlasses on and get to work. We know The Way, after all.
Looking around at the world, you can kind of see why. I mean, something is obviously not right. In a world where children die of hunger, tornadoes wipe out whole towns, war is seen as a solution, and Justin Timberlake’s Saturday Night Live performance trends on twitter while people riot for food and water, sometimes it seems like the only thing we can do is hope for a way out.
But Jesus doesn’t seem to be offering an emergency exit slide. In fact, he doesn’t seem much interested in exiting at all—he tells Phillip that he’s already seen God, and he tells Thomas that he already knows the way. Is it possible that we can already see God, and that we already know the way, and we’ve all been so busy looking for a way out that we’ve missed the way in? Jesus says that his mission is to bring abundant life, that in God’s house there are many rooms—enough for everyone—that loving God by loving our neighbor, and vice versa, are how we are to go about life. It’s as if he sees something different when he looks at the world. Instead of seeing a hopeless and horrible place that needs to be destroyed and re-made, he sees a place loved and redeemed, a place of wonder and hope.
We need to get ourselves some of those Jesus Glasses. Because it seems like we’ve been looking at the world all wrong…fuzzy, like watching a 3D movie without the cheesy paper glasses. It turns out we really need those glasses, because our vision is in need of some correction.
In the early years of the church, people preparing for baptism were taught that when they were baptized and entered into the community and the community’s sacred space, their eyes would be opened to how God sees the world. They came up out of the water and the first thing they saw were beautiful mosaics evoking the garden of Eden, and their first food was the overflowing bounty of communion from a table filled with bread, fruit, cheese, wine, and all manner of good things. They joined a community that saw differently, a body that believed its mission was to show the rest of the world what God could see—a world beloved, a world created with purpose and called good, a paradise, right here on earth. This paradise was not utopia, with no problems and no work required, but it’s God’s paradise nonetheless. And their job was to share their vision with others, to show what living as a citizen of the kingdom of God looked like.
This is not an easy task, to live as a citizen of the kingdom of God right here and now. It’s much easier to think that’s something we do when we die. But in a world where food rationing was used to control and pacify the masses, Jesus fed people and showed them how to share their resources; in a world where children were property to be used, Jesus said we must all become like a child; in a world where violence is equated with power, Jesus showed the power of love. Living with kingdom vision will mean following in Jesus’ footsteps here, today—did you catch in that reading when he said that those who believe in him will do the works he has done, and even greater works. We’ll feed the hungry, and also create a system where no one goes hungry in our world of plenty. We’ll heal the afflicted, and also stop hurting people. We’ll love our enemies, and work to create a world where hate is no more. It won’t be easy, but with our Jesus Glasses on, it’s possible. Jesus said that the kingdom of God is here…we just need to open our eyes.
I wonder, then, if we might think about the rapture differently. Perhaps the end of the world as we know it is just that—the end of our way of knowing. Maybe it did happen yesterday. Maybe it’s been happening to people all along, for centuries. Maybe it’s happening right now. Because what if being caught up with Jesus is not about people floating up into the sky, but about people seeing with kingdom vision, seeing God here and now, and living in the kingdom of heaven right now, today? We look through the lens of Christ and behold, God is doing a new thing—we can see a new heaven and a new earth, because for us, the old is gone and the new has come. There are glimpses of God’s work all around us, and glimpses of God whenever we look into the face of another person created in God’s image, and glimpses of the kingdom wherever people are living and loving and doing justice. Through the Body of Christ, Jesus comes again to show us the way, the truth, and the life, and they are more beautiful and more difficult than we ever imagined.
The church used to teach that we, the body of Christ, are living in the kingdom of heaven right now, that in baptism the scales fell from our eyes and we could see paradise here on earth, that our citizenship is in God’s kingdom and so we live differently and show the world a glimpse of that wonder.
Over the years that message has often been lost in all the hubbub, but it’s still there—in scripture and even in the good old Presbyterian Book of Order, which lists one of the 6 most important purposes of the church as “the exhibition of the kingdom of heaven to the world.” Our job as the body of Christ is to show God’s kingdom to the world, wherever we go and whatever we do. Once we open our eyes, we’ll see the beauty and hope and love infusing the world. We’ll see that God has not failed to bring the kingdom, we have failed to see the power of God in unexpected ways. We'll have kingdom vision, and there’s no going back. We’ll no longer be willing to settle for the status quo, we won’t be able to step aside and let the way of the world go on as it has been. When we live as kingdom-citizens, we can’t help changing the world—and we’ll be so busy doing justice, loving mercy, and walking with God we won’t have time to look for an escape from the world God so loves. When people look at us as members of the body of Christ, when people look at us as a community, when people look at the church, they should see the kingdom of heaven. If that’s going to happen, we need to see it too—so let’s put our JesusGlasses on and get to work. We know The Way, after all.
May it be so. Amen.
(for the complete experience: hymns today are Christ Be Our Light, Open My Eyes That I May See, and Come Great God of All the Ages. Alternative service music included the sending song Salt and Light. Special music offerings: Ordinary Miracle and He Never Failed Me Yet. awesome.)
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
a new day
I have been wondering for a long time what I would say if this day ever came. This is a day that I have been working toward for several years -- almost as long as I've been in the church, in fact. It's a day I have dreamed about, despaired of ever seeing, hoped for, longed for, prayed for, and worked for. It's also a day that brings out fear--fear of what might happen, who might leave, what will be said/misrepresented/misconstrued/misunderstood...
But, I have to say, even with a large amount of compassion for the many people for whom this day is sad, I celebrate.
Today, the 87th (and 88th!) presbyteries voted in favor of a change to the PC(USA) Book of Order's ordination standards, putting the "yes" vote in the majority. The language that was inserted 15 years ago with the sole purpose of keeping GLBT people out of church office will be removed and replaced with language that more closely adheres to our historic church standards and that raises the bar pretty significantly for all of us who presume to undertake the task to which God has called us.
No longer will the standard be "fidelity in the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman or chastity in singleness." Now it will be that we all "submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in every aspect of life." No longer will everything the confessions call sin disqualify people from leadership (since that disqualifies every single person who ever lived, in my read of the Book of Confessions), instead the standard will be the living Word of God, with the examinations focusing on our character and conduct and ability to uphold our ordination vows--and not just our favorites (energy intelligence imagination and love!) but all of them.
To be clear: as I said when the PUP report was released, I do not believe this is going to cause a wholesale change in the way we do preparation or examination for office. The reality on the ground has always been that sessions and presbyteries prepare candidates, oversee their education, and determine whether a) they are called AND b) are suitable for the office. While the "standard" has been in effect, it has been applied inconsistently at best, because the way ordination in the PCUSA words it is inherently local-on-behalf-of-the-wider-church. We don't all gather at a central place once a year and have the bishop do examinations and ordinations. We discern and learn in community, and prayerfully consider who is called and how we can best support them into their ministry. Sessions ordain the people they believe have been called to lead the local congregation. Presbyteries ordain people they believe have been called to serve. There's never been a national body double checking those ordinations. In that sense, this is not a change--each session and presbytery will have to prepare, examine, and determine the calling and qualifications of each candidate, just as we have been doing for decades now.
People have been using the words "lowering" or "relaxing" to talk about this "new" standard.
I don't know about you, but fidelity or chastity seems like a pretty low bar. I mean, how hard is it to not cheat on your spouse? Is that really the requirement?
Submitting *joyfully* to the Lordship of Christ in every aspect of my life? Let's just say that I don't submit to many people (anyone?) and that joy isn't part of my understanding of that word. This is a high bar--and I try really hard! This is actually a major part of how I understand what it means to be a Christian, and I still choke a little on the word "submit."
I also think it's a hard thing for us to admit that we do not get to choose whom God calls. We are Reformed Christians, we believe in a God who is sovereign over all things, including who gets to do God's work. Scripture is full of unexpected and unworthy people being used to do God's will in the world...and so is the church; it's just that we've often forgotten that we're just as unlikely to be good enough as the next person. None of us live up to God's expectations--but God uses us anyway. None of us is equipped and ready for the work--God equips us with what we need for the task at hand. None of us is a likely candidate--but we're all recipients of grace upon grace.
Now...can we extend that grace to those with whom we disagree? Can we work together for a kingdom of God that has many mansions within? Can we work together as parts of the body who cannot say to one another "I have no need of you"? Can we allow the church to be a reflection of God's grace in the world?
I am hopeful and even joyful about today's turning of the page in the story. I believe we have made the right step toward being the people God calls us to be, loving, serving, and caring for the world. I am grateful for the friends and colleagues who have suffered in their work to be accepted as people called by God, and saddened by the loss of so many people who had to seek other outlets to live out their calling. I celebrate with those who finally know there is a place for them in God's church.
I know there are people who disagree. May we all find ways to serve the living God, who would not be contained in a tomb or a book or a church.
Monday, May 09, 2011
Dear mom...
This is the first year I haven't written to you on mother's day. I mean, it's not midnight yet so I suppose technically, this counts, but you know what I mean.
I spent my day trying to relax, but often thinking about you. Except that's not different from any other day (well, if you replace the word "relax" with "work" anyway). What's different about this time of year is the build-up. The emails, the internet ads, the newspaper ads, commercials, etc. They always say things like "don't forget mom..." Which always makes me wonder: who forgets their mom? In our advertising saturated world, you can't forget mother's day anyway, but who forgets their mom? I haven't been able to talk to you in five and a half years, but you are not forgotten. I think of you every day. I wish I could pick up the phone or send a card or get you a present from one of those ubiquitous email advertisers. Instead I stay home from work, I sit on the couch with my cats, I make myself brunch...
I don't think much of the world has turned out the way you thought it would. I know it hasn't turned out the way I thought it would. But one thing is the same: I won't be forgetting my mom. Ever.
I love you.
Monday, May 02, 2011
Reading
I've been doing quite a bit of reading lately...but because I can't seem to keep track of calendar dates, only how things work within the program year of the church....this winter (the middle of the program year) I've read:
I disliked this book, because it felt like it was premature. Published as the first Millennials were graduating from high school (2000), I felt it characterized the bridge people (born between, say, 1979 and 1985) more than most Millennials. It's pre-9/11 and pre-recession, two serious markers of the growing up/coming-of-age years of most Millennials, so its understanding of the generation is, in my opinion, inaccurate. The way the world has shaped them, and the ways they have shaped the world, is lightyears different from how this book reads.
I loved this book. We are working on getting a team together to try to make our youth ministry more sustainable (ie not so much dependent on me and 7 other amazing youth leaders who are basically irreplaceable), more integrated (we're better than many churches, but we have a long way to go), and more about vertical relationships that nurture and sustain inquiry about faith and life rather than about just playing human battleship (which is important too--don't worry, we're not jettisoning game nights!).
Yes, yes yes. Everyone needs to be reading this book...and then trying to figure out how we do something about the issue of our churches being full of people who not only teach our children but also believe themselves that God is just "there when you need him." First of all: not a him. Second: not a servant. Third: shallow. We need to find ways to engage a serious biblical and reflective faith. This book is a good start.
I really liked this novel, though my colleague did not. I confess that I mainly liked it as food p0*n but it had some engaging story to it as well. The family dynamics and intersections of cultures via food were interesting. My colleague thought it betrayed a colonial mindset of assimilation, I thought it was about two cultures meeting...so there you go. It was not the best written novel ever--it was clearly written to be a movie, not a book, but then the author died or something and the movie was never made, so it reads a little sparsely--there are things that would have been better portrayed on screen that are not well written into the script. But overall, I kinda liked it.
Reframing Hope (a re-read in preparation for the BE4)
I heart Carol Howard Merritt. This book didn't bring up new things for me, exactly, but then again I'm hardly the target audience. I'm a young adult who IS in the church, and I work in a congregation that is intentionally seeking to be more intergenerational, that has a long history of mission and social justice, and that is invested in trying to BE the church, not just go to church. I love this book because it makes accessible the things that many church leaders (lay and ordained) need to be thinking about. The book is not long, nor is it hard to read (no dictionaries necessary here!), and it brings up things I wish more people were talking about. I feel like a large portion of the church is busy hand-wringing about my generation and the one(s) after me, but simultaneously ignoring what it means to be church in a world that is constantly changing. It's about time someone wrote a book that explains in plain english that each generation is different enough that while the faith remains the same, the ways we go about living it do not. Thanks Carol.
I love me some princess books! Philippa Gregory is always a good go-to-princess-book writer. I enjoyed this book and am looking forward to reading The Red Queen as well. This was a pre-Tudors story, and just as engaging as most of her work is. I love that she finds women in history and plays up their roles, instead of the usual downplaying of women in "important" stories. I like that the women are both feminine/traditional and strong/independent/interesting/stereotype-defying. I like that the story has plot twists I wouldn't necessarily expect. I like that I get to escape into a story that is both so different from my own and yet so related. loved.
I could not put these down. The story was so interesting, the characters so intriguing, the plot so not-predictable (at least at first) that I couldn't help myself. I read all three books in less than a week, because seriously...could.not.stop. The violence was a little out of control, and the sexism and heterosexism...oh my god. I nearly threw my kindle across the room more than once. But the story felt so real, and so important...and I wanted to know what was going to happen to these characters. They were just so...human. I haven't watched the movies yet, because I don't know if I can handle all that violence again (it's seriously graphic) but I probably will eventually. They're streaming on Netflix, after all. And I want to see how other people see these characters and places and interactions...my imagination ran a little wild as I contemplated all the possibilities while simultaneously devouring every page.
Sometimes you just need a little classic poetry in your life.
And sometimes you just need to read something you read as a young person...and then discover that it was completely drug induced in a way you had no idea about. I mean, seriously? SERIOUSLY? I had no clue when I was little...it was a fanciful story. Now I read this and go "Oh My God, what were you taking???" It's completely bizarre in every possible way. Still a great story, but wow. I did not remember it like that...
Kind of a princess book, sort of...it was fluff. But I liked it a lot. Again, plot twists, good character development, interesting people you get sort of invested in. I found this book a good escape, amusing, thought-provoking, and full of gentle commentary on the place of women in society. Then again, every historical novel is probably a commentary on the place of women in society.
This may be my favorite new theology book. It should clearly be required reading for, oh, everyone. I tried to finish the book before the lecture and workshop I attended, but didn't quite make it...I got halfway through though. Then I realized how long the book was (I was reading it on my kindle and could not figure out why the percentage wasn't increasing as I kept turning pages...now I know that it's because the book is 560 pages, but over 100 of those are notes and whatnot...it's just over 420 of actual text and images...but that 100+ pages at the end skews the kindle percentage significantly!) and I didn't feel so bad about not finishing before I went to the workshop. Anyway: Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Parker do amazing research, write great church history and theology, and delve into an art history mystery all in the same book. It's eye-opening and thought-provoking, and relieves a great burden for those of us who have trouble with the "traditional" theories of atonement. Of course, I have been saying for years now (along with some other people like, oh, Jesus) that the kingdom of God is here and we just lack the eyes to see it...which is basically what they say. So since they confirm my beliefs, they are of course the best scholars *ever*... ;-) No, seriously, read this book. Because I want to be able to talk about it, and about the work we did in their lectures and workshops. They were awesome.
Abundance: a novel about Marie Antoinette.
We all think we know about Marie Antoinette, the supposedly callous queen who valued herself above her people and sparked the french revolution with her extravagant indifference to the rest of the population. This novel, drawing on significant historical evidence including MA's own letters and letters of her court, suggests otherwise. First of all, as is pointed out in the introduction, "let them eat cake" was not said by MA but by the queen of Louis XIV, two generations before MA. Second, this novel portrays her as a compassionate, loving, interested and interesting woman whose life did not turn out as she planned. In this novel she is a woman who knows anxiety, disappointment, uncertainty, love, hope, dreams, friendship, fun, despair...in other words, she's a human being. Again, it's often a commentary on the place of women, on class and status, and on the political realities of 18th century Europe. It's intriguing. I read it mostly on the plane...it looks long, but it doesn't feel long. Enjoy.
I'm moving on now to Open Leadership, a book I'm reading with my S3 group....I'll let you know how it goes.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
In the past 24 hours...
...I have:
* written a new section for, and adapted the rest of, a series of monologues for Friday's Tenebrae service, which may be one of my favorites ever. Was very impressed with myself.
* pretended to be the children's choir teacher for the preschool choir (which apparently comes under "other duties as assigned" sometimes).
* shepherded 10 children through their first Taize service.
* practiced my awesome awesome children's sermon for Easter morning with the choir.
* gotten a speeding ticket on my way home from church.
* read said speeding ticket in my garage, by the light of the "reading lights" in the car, to discover that it will cost me $120.
* discovered this morning that I'd left that light on inside my car, and the battery was dead.
* re-learned how to jump a car battery (red first!).
* drove around randomly letting my battery charge, kicking myself because my stupidity last night translated into wasting $4.15/gallon gas today.
* blogged instead of planning tonight's Maundy Thursday service.
Here's hoping the next 24 hours are slightly less eventful.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
1400
This is my 1400th post on this blog. I've been writing here since May 29, 2002...and in that first post I said that I might sometimes write about the weather, "if it ever changes from cold to hot, because there's nothing in between."
Which is pretty funny, since yesterday (4.18.2011) it SNOWED and today it is cold and gray and rainy and disgusting...but 8 days ago, on the 5th Sunday in Lent, it was 80 degrees. While right now I long for 80 degrees (it's disgusting outside and this weather makes me want to just curl back up in bed), I wouldn't mind some in between. Or just a flat out shift from cold to hot.
It seems that in 9 years and 1400 posts, I'm still saying the same thing. And that thing boils down to three little words: I. Want. Sunshine.
:-)
Sunday, April 10, 2011
In Her Place--5th sermon in the Lent series "Choices on the Way"
Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
In Her Place
Mark 7.24-30
10 April 2011, Lent 5A (off lectionary—Choices On The Way)
From there Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ But she answered him, ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Then he said to her, ‘For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.’ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
She was just a woman. She was just a woman, a Gentile woman, a woman who should know better, who should never have been seen and certainly not heard, a foreigner, with the wrong skin color and the wrong religious beliefs and the wrong accent.
She was a woman who needed to be put in her place.
I mean, we all know how the world works. We all know that there are systems and norms and rules, and we know how to play the game. We know that our position of privilege—whether privilege of education or status or gender or color or wealth or being the most chosen of the chosen people—gives us certain…opportunities. Among those is the opportunity to remind people where they belong.
She was just a desperate woman, looking for help anywhere she could find it. She was willing to break the rules because—well—when you’re desperate, rules don’t matter.
And suddenly, against all the odds, we hear it.
We hear a voice calling out to us, a voice that is simultaneously familiar and discordant, a voice we half recognize though it comes from a body that can’t possibly contain it.
We know, of course, how God works. We know that God plays by the rules, always uses the best people available to do the job, always lays out the map and gives us fences to mark the path…and to keep the wrong kind of people out. Sure, there were a few aberrations with that murderer who led us out of Egypt, and that adulterer who was our greatest king ever, and those women of questionable morals and questionable breeding in the family tree. But overall, we get it. We know where we chosen people stand, and where others stand, and we know what to do when the wrong kind of people try to get in, when the wrong kind of people answer the call, when the wrong kind of people start calling out to us for the same kind of love and care we give our own.
So when we hear the voice, and we see the body it comes from, we know that something is up. This does not follow the rules—though we try. We were brought up to believe that she was bad, an outsider, not to be trusted let alone touched or conversed with. Our whole society, our whole religious system, our whole identity, our whole understanding of who God is and what God calls us to do, tells us the proper response: to put her in her place.
And we tried, we really did. We tried the racist slurs, the sarcastic tone, the condescending glare, the cold shoulder. We looked down on her—on her choices, her upbringing, her ethnicity and her religion. We used the most derogatory words we could call to mind, and we spat them out at her, hoping she would understand that we play by the rules and so would slink away, tail between her legs, to go back to wherever she belongs.
But then that voice…clear as a bell, both as desperate as our psalmist crying out to God from the depths of despair and as sassy as wisdom calling out to us from the street corner. The container doesn’t match, but we would know that voice anywhere—that’s the voice of the Spirit, hovering over the waters, breathing new life into dry bones, calling light out of darkness and love out of hate.
So we have to make a choice—to answer the Spirit’s call, though it breaks all the rules we think we know, or to close our ears and avert our eyes.
This is the moment when our divine nature tries to assert itself, when the image of God tries to break forth through our human ways. And we realize—this is what it means to be fully human, fully divine. This is what it means to live as God calls us to live. This is what it means to hear and obey. This is what it means to follow God’s will, to suddenly the systems of sin in which we are oh-so-humanly caught and turn into a new kingdom of hope. This is what it means to break open our hardened shells and let God’s light stream into the world.
And so we turn to this woman, this child of God, this vessel of the Spirit, and let love flow out from us, out past the walls we’ve built, out past the cage we’ve kept ourselves in, erasing our lines in the sand and growing the circle ever wider. Instead of putting her in the place we think she deserves, we step aside, make room for the Spirit to move among and within us and others, and allow her to take the place God has prepared for her, at the table of sassy saints. And then we turn again, following God’s call into the unknown, toward Jerusalem. For that is where this journey of obedient love will take us.
May God guide us on our way. Amen.
RCLPC
In Her Place
Mark 7.24-30
10 April 2011, Lent 5A (off lectionary—Choices On The Way)
From there Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ But she answered him, ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Then he said to her, ‘For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.’ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
She was just a woman. She was just a woman, a Gentile woman, a woman who should know better, who should never have been seen and certainly not heard, a foreigner, with the wrong skin color and the wrong religious beliefs and the wrong accent.
She was a woman who needed to be put in her place.
I mean, we all know how the world works. We all know that there are systems and norms and rules, and we know how to play the game. We know that our position of privilege—whether privilege of education or status or gender or color or wealth or being the most chosen of the chosen people—gives us certain…opportunities. Among those is the opportunity to remind people where they belong.
She was just a desperate woman, looking for help anywhere she could find it. She was willing to break the rules because—well—when you’re desperate, rules don’t matter.
And suddenly, against all the odds, we hear it.
We hear a voice calling out to us, a voice that is simultaneously familiar and discordant, a voice we half recognize though it comes from a body that can’t possibly contain it.
We know, of course, how God works. We know that God plays by the rules, always uses the best people available to do the job, always lays out the map and gives us fences to mark the path…and to keep the wrong kind of people out. Sure, there were a few aberrations with that murderer who led us out of Egypt, and that adulterer who was our greatest king ever, and those women of questionable morals and questionable breeding in the family tree. But overall, we get it. We know where we chosen people stand, and where others stand, and we know what to do when the wrong kind of people try to get in, when the wrong kind of people answer the call, when the wrong kind of people start calling out to us for the same kind of love and care we give our own.
So when we hear the voice, and we see the body it comes from, we know that something is up. This does not follow the rules—though we try. We were brought up to believe that she was bad, an outsider, not to be trusted let alone touched or conversed with. Our whole society, our whole religious system, our whole identity, our whole understanding of who God is and what God calls us to do, tells us the proper response: to put her in her place.
And we tried, we really did. We tried the racist slurs, the sarcastic tone, the condescending glare, the cold shoulder. We looked down on her—on her choices, her upbringing, her ethnicity and her religion. We used the most derogatory words we could call to mind, and we spat them out at her, hoping she would understand that we play by the rules and so would slink away, tail between her legs, to go back to wherever she belongs.
But then that voice…clear as a bell, both as desperate as our psalmist crying out to God from the depths of despair and as sassy as wisdom calling out to us from the street corner. The container doesn’t match, but we would know that voice anywhere—that’s the voice of the Spirit, hovering over the waters, breathing new life into dry bones, calling light out of darkness and love out of hate.
So we have to make a choice—to answer the Spirit’s call, though it breaks all the rules we think we know, or to close our ears and avert our eyes.
This is the moment when our divine nature tries to assert itself, when the image of God tries to break forth through our human ways. And we realize—this is what it means to be fully human, fully divine. This is what it means to live as God calls us to live. This is what it means to hear and obey. This is what it means to follow God’s will, to suddenly the systems of sin in which we are oh-so-humanly caught and turn into a new kingdom of hope. This is what it means to break open our hardened shells and let God’s light stream into the world.
And so we turn to this woman, this child of God, this vessel of the Spirit, and let love flow out from us, out past the walls we’ve built, out past the cage we’ve kept ourselves in, erasing our lines in the sand and growing the circle ever wider. Instead of putting her in the place we think she deserves, we step aside, make room for the Spirit to move among and within us and others, and allow her to take the place God has prepared for her, at the table of sassy saints. And then we turn again, following God’s call into the unknown, toward Jerusalem. For that is where this journey of obedient love will take us.
May God guide us on our way. Amen.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
who prays "best"?
Presbyterian with the letters rearranged = "best in prayer"....awesome. (ignore the fact that it could also rearrange to "britney spears")
You know the one.
Anyway, in this conversation it quickly became clear that everyone in the room really believes that they can't do that. That they can't pray out loud, that they aren't good enough to talk to God on behalf of a room full of people, that because they stutter or their mind wanders or they might ramble or whatever, God and the other people in the room will be judging their praying ability. Pastors should just do the praying because we are so much better at it.
Um, no.
We're protestants. One of the key things about the whole Protestant idea is that every single one of us has direct access to God through prayer; we don't have to wait for the priest to go to God on our behalf, we don't have to wait for someone else (priest, saint, monk, pope, whoever) to pray for us, we can do it all on our own. And I have spent years now trying to convince kids that they can talk to God and whatever they have to say, God will listen to. It doesn't matter what other people think of their ability to speak in public, it doesn't matter whether the grown-ups in the room think the prayer is fluffy or "cute," it doesn't matter if you have to pause and think about the next word because you're not sure yet what you even want to say. Everyone can pray, everyone can pray out loud, everyone can pray on behalf of others, everyone can pray at Bible Study or in worship or at a meeting or a potluck. It's not like pastors have some special power that gives us the right words to say, or makes us unusually eloquent, or whatever. We all have that same power--it's called the Holy Spirit. Some of us have more practice, but that doesn't mean the rest of us shouldn't be practicing. And in this case, practice doesn't make perfect--like any other spiritual discipline, this practice makes us more comfortable chatting with God despite our imperfection.
Apparently I should have been reminding the parents, not just the kids.
Next week: one of the parents will pray. (mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha....)
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
wisdom...
I have been thinking a lot about wisdom lately, but not "wisdom" in the traditional sense, or at least the sense it usually seems to get talked about in our culture. We have this picture of wisdom as something you sort of magically get when you're older--as in the phrase "older and wiser"--or through lots of really hard and tragic experiences.
But "wisdom" is also a spiritual gift listed in 1 Corinthians and it shows up on all the spiritual gift inventories, described as (different from knowledge) knowing God's will and being able to see the connections between everyday life and spiritual matters/God-things.
I think there's also another kind of wisdom--the kind that allows us to see ourselves clearly, to see others clearly, and to make room in that clarity for the movement of the Spirit.
I don't think many people (myself included) have this kind of wisdom.
But this is the kind of wisdom that we need if we are going to stop saying things like "it's not my fault there aren't any women leaders at this conference--we were just looking for the best people." This is so arrogant/condescending (especially when talking to a woman), and it shows that the speaker has not seen clearly the gifts of others or made room for the Spirit to work through people the speaker doesn't see fitting the usual mold of leaders. (Because really? all the best people just happened to be white men? really? hmm.) It's also the kind of wisdom we need if we are going to stop meeting new ideas with "that won't work because ______." Because as soon as we utter those words, we have shut down our own vision of others, we have blocked their creativity, and we have closed the windows and kept the Spirit outside. This is the kind of wisdom at work when we choose to listen without fixing the problems of the other person, when we show compassion without needing to solve everything for them...because when we fix it, we not only give the impression that we believe we are better than the other person, we also close down room for the Spirit to work in that person's own creative solutions to what's going on in their life.
The trouble is, this kind of wisdom requires that we know ourselves really really well, and that we simultaneously allow others to know themselves (and show that self to us) and to know us. So few people in our culture are truly self-aware, and so few people seem interested in really knowing The Other, and so few people want the Holy Spirit blowing in and messing up their worldview and plans, that this kind of wisdom seems scarce. When we're around it, we know. But most of life (at least my life) is not lived in that wisdom atmosphere, and we barely notice its absence until we breathe that life-giving air for a few moments...and then it's awfully hard to go back to the way things were.
So today I'm working on making space, because I breathed that other atmosphere and now I want it back.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
BG (Before Google)--a sermon for Lent 2A
Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
B.G. (Before Google)
Genesis 12.1-4
20 March 2011, 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.
Often, when I am preparing to go somewhere, I check out all kinds of things. I head to google and I look up the hotel, the restaurants, the attractions, the community news and statistics…I read reviews on yelp and trip advisor, I plot which places I want to try and which I’d rather avoid, based on other people’s experiences. I even do this here at home, looking up businesses I’ve not used before to find out about them before I ever make a call or walk through the door, to find out about the churches hosting Presbytery meetings, or what else is good at a local restaurant besides the thing I always order. And when I, or a friend, get ready to meet someone new, whether we’ve been set up on a date or we’re just making new friends, I almost always google them to see if I can figure out what they’re like ahead of time. Employers are now doing this too, googling candidates before they interview them, checking to see that there’s nothing embarrassing or controversial about them floating around the web, checking up on their history or their time management or their ability to keep the shocking photos off facebook.
And, of course, before I go anywhere—sometimes long before I even decide to go anywhere—I map it on google. How long will it take to drive there? Can I walk between these different places I want to go? Are there alternate routes I might prefer? I put in the addresses, I move that little blue line all around—because who wants to drive down Randall Road all the way to 90 when we could drive down 62 instead?—and I check out all my options. Sometimes I print the directions, sometimes I just put the address into the gps, sometimes I do both…but I almost always have a map before I leave, and I have a fair idea what to expect when I get there, thanks to Google.
Abram had none of these things. He heard the voice of the Lord telling him to leave his home and his family, to set out to this unknown place that God would show him. Abram didn’t have the opportunity to google who this God character is—this is the first time we find out that Abram and God have talked, we don’t know whether Abram and God had a prior relationship, and yet Abram asks no questions like “who are you?” or “can I see your photo?” or “what other things have you done, what other journeys have you guided, what other people have you blessed?” He doesn’t whip out his iPad and google “God” which will, as of this morning, get you about 726 million results, the first of which is the Wikipedia entry about God. Abram also doesn’t manage to ask God for a map—where is he going, how is he going to get there, how long is it going to take, and what’s the traffic adjustment? He just seems to believe that this voice is trustworthy, so he packs up all his stuff and heads out into the desert.
I don’t know if many of us would do that.
When God calls, we probably would prefer to do a quick Google search and ask for a map first? It’s so tempting, and so easy, to try to mitigate our fear of the unknown by doing some research ahead of time. Of course, then it’s also easy to get distracted by the millions of other things out there, the myriad options, the many voices. And it’s easy to find reasons not to go—it’s dangerous, it’s humid, it’s cold, the people are snooty, the food is only so-so, it’ll take a long time and cost a lot with today’s gas prices, there are a lot of 1 star reviews. Or it’s just that sometimes following God is too difficult a path, it doesn’t fit in our busy schedules, it might ruin our social status.
Presumably Abram had a busy schedule—he appears to have an entire household and a large extended family, and we know he has large flocks and servants which means his household was like a small village of tents. He was probably a respected member of his community. Not to mention that he was 75 years old! And yet, off he went, leaving all that behind. It kind of makes me wonder what people said about him after the last of his camel caravan was out of sight…I can practically hear the gossip. But he went anyway. Once he’d heard God’s call, he had to make a choice—he could try to return to life the way it had always been, before he heard God’s voice, or he could follow that call and see where that led him.
Dropping everything and following God’s voice into the wilderness is a common theme in the Bible—from this story of Abram to the Israelites leaving Egypt to Elijah to John the Baptist and Jesus and Paul. But even if we never leave home, God still calls us to a journey—a journey involving risks and life-changing choices. Once we hear God’s voice, things can never be the same. We have to decide whether to set our face back toward the past, pretending nothing has changed and that we can go on leading our safe old lives, or to set our face toward Jerusalem and accept the consequences of following God’s call.
One of my favorite quotes says, “faith is believing that one of two things will happen—that there will be something solid for you to stand on, or that you will be taught to fly.” Now, of course, I prefer to think about flying, because it sounds more fun and adventurous, but sometimes the journey just involves stepping out and finding the path is there, waiting for us even though we couldn’t see it before.
Indy didn't believe until this moment...he heard the voice of someone he trusted, and he chose to take the step.
RCLPC
B.G. (Before Google)
Genesis 12.1-4
20 March 2011, 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.
Often, when I am preparing to go somewhere, I check out all kinds of things. I head to google and I look up the hotel, the restaurants, the attractions, the community news and statistics…I read reviews on yelp and trip advisor, I plot which places I want to try and which I’d rather avoid, based on other people’s experiences. I even do this here at home, looking up businesses I’ve not used before to find out about them before I ever make a call or walk through the door, to find out about the churches hosting Presbytery meetings, or what else is good at a local restaurant besides the thing I always order. And when I, or a friend, get ready to meet someone new, whether we’ve been set up on a date or we’re just making new friends, I almost always google them to see if I can figure out what they’re like ahead of time. Employers are now doing this too, googling candidates before they interview them, checking to see that there’s nothing embarrassing or controversial about them floating around the web, checking up on their history or their time management or their ability to keep the shocking photos off facebook.
And, of course, before I go anywhere—sometimes long before I even decide to go anywhere—I map it on google. How long will it take to drive there? Can I walk between these different places I want to go? Are there alternate routes I might prefer? I put in the addresses, I move that little blue line all around—because who wants to drive down Randall Road all the way to 90 when we could drive down 62 instead?—and I check out all my options. Sometimes I print the directions, sometimes I just put the address into the gps, sometimes I do both…but I almost always have a map before I leave, and I have a fair idea what to expect when I get there, thanks to Google.
Abram had none of these things. He heard the voice of the Lord telling him to leave his home and his family, to set out to this unknown place that God would show him. Abram didn’t have the opportunity to google who this God character is—this is the first time we find out that Abram and God have talked, we don’t know whether Abram and God had a prior relationship, and yet Abram asks no questions like “who are you?” or “can I see your photo?” or “what other things have you done, what other journeys have you guided, what other people have you blessed?” He doesn’t whip out his iPad and google “God” which will, as of this morning, get you about 726 million results, the first of which is the Wikipedia entry about God. Abram also doesn’t manage to ask God for a map—where is he going, how is he going to get there, how long is it going to take, and what’s the traffic adjustment? He just seems to believe that this voice is trustworthy, so he packs up all his stuff and heads out into the desert.
I don’t know if many of us would do that.
When God calls, we probably would prefer to do a quick Google search and ask for a map first? It’s so tempting, and so easy, to try to mitigate our fear of the unknown by doing some research ahead of time. Of course, then it’s also easy to get distracted by the millions of other things out there, the myriad options, the many voices. And it’s easy to find reasons not to go—it’s dangerous, it’s humid, it’s cold, the people are snooty, the food is only so-so, it’ll take a long time and cost a lot with today’s gas prices, there are a lot of 1 star reviews. Or it’s just that sometimes following God is too difficult a path, it doesn’t fit in our busy schedules, it might ruin our social status.
Presumably Abram had a busy schedule—he appears to have an entire household and a large extended family, and we know he has large flocks and servants which means his household was like a small village of tents. He was probably a respected member of his community. Not to mention that he was 75 years old! And yet, off he went, leaving all that behind. It kind of makes me wonder what people said about him after the last of his camel caravan was out of sight…I can practically hear the gossip. But he went anyway. Once he’d heard God’s call, he had to make a choice—he could try to return to life the way it had always been, before he heard God’s voice, or he could follow that call and see where that led him.
Dropping everything and following God’s voice into the wilderness is a common theme in the Bible—from this story of Abram to the Israelites leaving Egypt to Elijah to John the Baptist and Jesus and Paul. But even if we never leave home, God still calls us to a journey—a journey involving risks and life-changing choices. Once we hear God’s voice, things can never be the same. We have to decide whether to set our face back toward the past, pretending nothing has changed and that we can go on leading our safe old lives, or to set our face toward Jerusalem and accept the consequences of following God’s call.
One of my favorite quotes says, “faith is believing that one of two things will happen—that there will be something solid for you to stand on, or that you will be taught to fly.” Now, of course, I prefer to think about flying, because it sounds more fun and adventurous, but sometimes the journey just involves stepping out and finding the path is there, waiting for us even though we couldn’t see it before.
Indy didn't believe until this moment...he heard the voice of someone he trusted, and he chose to take the step.
This Lent, we too have some choices. God is calling…but to where or to what, we may not be sure. Who does God want us to be? What kind of people? What kind of work are we to do? How can our lives, both individually and as a community, be part of God’s kingdom quest here and now? Our church is at a crossroads—now we have to discern which voice is God’s amidst that jumble of voices, and then we have to decide…we can’t just stay where we are, looking at the sign—signs point somewhere, they’re not meant to be stopping places. We have to turn one way or the other. And perhaps this is a decision we need to make BG—Before Google, or maybe even live life Beyond Google, because there’s no way to remove our fear of the unknown, so at some point we have to decide whether, with Jesus, we will set our face toward Jerusalem or toward something else more comfortable and predictable. We know is that God has great plans…the question is—once we know God’s voice, which journey will we choose to walk?
May the Lord guide us as we travel together.
Amen.
May the Lord guide us as we travel together.
Amen.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Lenten Discipline
Normally for Lent I take on the discipline of being more intentional about what I put in my body. This means giving up eating out and drinking pop, both of which are things I do because I didn't plan ahead for my day. So in being intentional, I try to bring my lunch (and/or dinner, if I have evening things, which I do almost every night). I pack my water bottles. I pass by Taco Bell rather than giving in to my every crunchwrap supreme craving. Etc.
This year I managed to fail at my discipline within about 36 hours. More than once.
And after talking with my therapist last week (and again this week) about my perfectionist tendencies and my not-helpful self-talk and my general feel of failure when I don't do things perfectly and all the time, I've decided to change my lenten discipline mid-stream. Granted, we're only a few days into Lent, which helps...
So this year I am going to give up perfectionism--in the sense that I am not going to talk badly to (or about) myself when I fail at something. I don't write every day? Not a cause to tell myself I'm lazy or stupid. I forgot my lunch and ran to Subway? Not a reason to remind myself of my idiotic forgetfulness. I skipped a morning workout? Doesn't mean I have to give up exercise because I won't get 90 minutes in, and doesn't make me a fat slob.
You get the idea.
So if you catch me talking bad about myself, please hold me accountable. Thanks...love Teri.
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