AWE

AWE
John 20.19-31, Revelation 1.4-8
CNCP
April 18 2004

John 20.19-31
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.
But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those ho have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Revelation 1.4-8
John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.
Look! He is coming with the clouds;
every eye will see him,
even those who pierced him;
and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail.
So it is to be. Amen.
“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.


All week long I’ve had people tell me not to preach on this text. “Preach on Thomas,” they say. “Revelation is just a weird book,” “There’s nothing in there to grab on to,” and “you must be crazy” have been common comments. Some people choose to gloss over the entire book, pretending it isn’t in the Bible. Some consider it more like entertainment—a good novel, a Kevin Smith movie. Some say “it’s only a subversive political text, not a religious one.” And occasionally I would just say “I’m preaching on the Alpha and Omega passage” and people would say, “oh, won’t that be nice.”
Well, it’s not been easy. In fact, I really have no idea what to say. Here we have the gospel in a nutshell: Jesus died for our sins and will come again. God is all encompassing. What more do we need? I almost feel like I should just read the text again, then sit down because there’s not a lot I can add to the Word of God this week. Unfortunately, preachers aren’t often allowed to do that. So instead I’ve avoided the task, I’ve done everything else, until there’s nothing left to do. My room is clean, my cat is fed, I’ve even taken a nap. I have exhausted every avoidance tactic I can dream up.
And so we face Revelation together…and do what with it exactly? Sure, it’s a subversive political book. Sure, it’s weird. Sure, it often reads like a Steven King novel or a script from a sci-fi TV show. But it’s also the Word of the Lord and it’s here for a reason. The lectionary allows us to skip a lot of unpleasantness in the Bible, including the vast majority of the Book of Revelation. So really, I should be grateful that I’ve got the Alpha and Omega rather than a vision of scrolls and bowls and horses and trumpets and fire and plagues. At least we didn’t just read chapter 12 about the woman giving birth to a male child as a dragon waits to eat the child immediately.
This is small consolation when everyone around me is telling me this is impossible. Thankfully, nothing is impossible for God.
Last week we celebrated an impossibility—the resurrection—with singing, bells, flowers, and joy. This week, though it may not seem like it from this text, we are still celebrating the resurrection. Easter is a season, not a day—a 50 day season, to be exact. We will celebrate the resurrection until Pentecost, and hopefully we’ll continue to remember that God raised this Jesus from the dead even after Pentecost. As John tells us here, in Jesus God freed us from our sins and made us to be a kingdom. This is what a friend of mine referred to as the “whole gospel, everything you need to know about Jesus.” While I don’t think that’s quite true, because Jesus’ life was pretty important, I do think this tells us a lot in a short space. But it tells us about ourselves as the church, not about Jesus. Here we are told that we have been freed from our sins. We, the church—which John calls the kingdom on earth, the priestly community serving God at all times—have been freed from sin. We are not expected to be innocent, for none can be innocent of sin. Instead we are expected to remember that we have been forgiven. We are not the innocent community but the forgiven one. We still make mistakes, we still wonder what it’s all about, we still fail…but we also confess, and we accept forgiveness. And so, with John, we frame our lives in the doxology: to God be the glory forever and ever! John has begun his letter to the seven churches in Asia with worship, not with analytical concepts, not with a set of doctrines, not with something we are required to believe, but with a statement that all the glory belongs to God.
It’s easy to ascribe all the glory to God on Easter Sunday. The church is full, the bells are tolling, the Halelujah chorus rings in our ears. Christ is Alive! But the Sunday after Easter…the low Sunday…it’s a little harder now. We’re still singing joyful easter hymns, still proclaiming “Christ is Risen!”, still looking at lilies…but we’ve moved on. We may have, in fact, moved right back to being in charge of our own lives. A good grade on an exam, praise received at work, compliments from a stranger on the street, and we generally ascribe the glory to ourselves. I do it all the time—I admit that when I got my theology midterm back this week, it made my day and I congratulated myself and boasted for hours before remembering how hard I’d prayed that I could remember all the things I needed to remember, before I thought to stop and be thankful that God had helped me be alert while I studied and while I wrote answers to case study questions. Glory to God forever…except when I want to feel that I did all the work myself. Glory to God forever and ever…as long as it means that I can boast about how great I am forever and ever too.
Sadly, that’s not what it says. What it does say is “to the one who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” That “amen” is supposed to be our assent, our “may it be so” to the preceding statement: to him be glory and dominion forever and ever.
It sounds almost as if John is showing us the appropriate response to God’s presence with us. Remember in Isaiah that when Isaiah encounters God, he falls on his face and says “woe is me, for I am a man of unclean lips and I serve a people of unclean lips, yet I have seen the Lord.” That kind of response is part of this one John describes. Remember when Mary saw the risen Lord early in the morning and she was weeping and scared? That is part of the response too. Remember when the disciples were locked in their room, and Jesus appeared to them, and Thomas said “My Lord and my God!”…that too is part of this response. John here is calling us to a response of awe—of acknowledgment of mystery, of dominion, of glory, of power and might and all-encompassing-ness.
We can’t understand how it is that Jesus was raised from the dead…Easter is a mystery for us, one we approach with fear and trembling, with faith and hope, with a complete lack of clarity. How did Jesus appear inside locked doors? Why didn’t people always recognize Jesus right away? How does Jesus’ blood pay for our sins? How are we a holy priesthood, a royal nation, when we are so clearly still sinners? How do we live as a forgiven community? All this unclarity is something we run from—we want explanations, we want black and white, we want answers. But Easter isn’t going to give them to us. All we are going to get from Easter is a command to be in awe, to acknowledge mystery, to give glory to God.
God says “I am the Alpha and the Omega.” In the English alphabet that’s God saying “I am A and Z”—God is the beginning and the end, and thereby encompasses all that is in between. God is and God was and God is to come—God is all the tenses. If you look at the front of your bulletin you’ll see the Greek letters Alpha and Omega. The New Testament is written primarily in lower case letters, like those you see on the bottom right of the cover. You notice that Alpha and Omega look rather like an A and a W? Next time you see and A or a W, remember that they make up the word “AWE” and think of your response to the God who is and was and is to come. Think of the mystery of a God that surrounds all things before and after us. Think of the one who made us a forgiven community. Think of the one to whom all glory and dominion are to be given. And allow space for the mystery, for awe, for a little gray area…and remember always that even when we doubt, God comes among us to help us believe and offers us peace. And so, with John, we look—we look at the glory of the Lord and we stand in awe. We can only have one response: to shout out “My Lord and my God!” Amen.

yeah...

well, yeah. that's all i have to say. if the president can use that as an answer to a reporter's question, i can use it to describe my day.
i'm tired. colloquium went really well for us, though the workshops were less than exciting. there were some logistical difficulties, and i wished the keynoter had had more time, but our worship experiences were great. and i got to have lunch with two fab women two days in a row.
i have to do some homework, figure out a bible study, and write a sermon. by, oh, tonight.

must go. ta.

happy eastertide!

It is 6am

It is 6am and I am at church. Ah, Easter Sunday.

Christ is Risen...he is risen indeed.....apparently without the help of Starbucks.
how? how is it possible for Jesus to have been dead three days and then just get up without so much as a nonfat vanilla latte? I need one pretty desperately. or maybe a caramel macchiato. at the very least, some chai. and a muffin.

early in the morning, on the first day of the week...he was not there (because he was out looking for an independent coffee shop, maybe. jesus probably doesn't patronize such world-dominating non-eco-friendly corporations as starbucks.).

happy easter!

it has begun

normally during Holy Week one hears an abundance of "it is finished." Well, for me, it has begun. The attempt to raise $12,000 for my year abroad has begun. The end of the semester has begun. The four holy days of the Christian calendar (Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, Easter Sunday) have begun. The planning and stressing and fidgeting and thinking and wondering has begun. (not that I wasn't doing any of those things before, just now they have begun in earnest.) (side note: I think the word "earnest" deserves to be used more. just saying. end side note.)

well, i must eat something. soon. what shall I eat, I wonder?

hmm...

holy week

well, it's holy week. holy week is a weird time for me to be away from Fourth Church. I like going to church every day during holy week. but not this holy week. i will go on thursday night, friday noon, saturday night, and sunday morning (very early and at 11) but there's something about the noon-service journey through the week that i really like and miss.
oh well....it just means i'm slightly moody this week. it happens.
perhaps i'll cheer up with some ice cream, some brownies, and some hot tub.
happy ICW!

just noticed...

how long it's been since i read the Onion.

I should get on that.

Or maybe I should get on the theology reading.

quite the toss-up.

so i was planning on leaving at 4....

I was going to leave work at 4 today. it's now 4:38 and I'm still here. this is the first non-work thing i've done in several hours (very impressive, given how my attention span has been going lately). it must be the skittles.

if I eat any more skittles, i'll throw up. bleah......

but i really need some Dr. Pepper.

I'm going now.

i may appear to be a slacker, but really...

...i'm just very busy. we had a lock-in this weekend. was very busy getting ready, staying up all night, then sleeping all day (after playing the clarinet in worship--oy).

still tired. still want nap. still have obscene amounts of homework to do. need a vacation. not going to get one. ever.

but i am going to the middle east. and i am going to scotland. and i very nearly typed "ai" instead of "i" which would be my new-found southern accent (which accidentally came out in class today) coming out in print. frightening. it is going to have to stop.

when do i get to go to the beach again?

Mission Means Justice

Mission Means Justice
Isaiah 42.1-9
CNCP
March 21, 2004

Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my spirit upon him;
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not grow faint or be crushed
until he has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for his teaching.

Thus says God, the LORD,
who created the heavens and stretched them out,
who spread out the earth and what comes from it,
who gives breath to the people upon it
and spirit to those who walk in it:
I am the LORD,
I have called you in righteousness,
I have taken you by the hand and kept you;
I have given you as a covenant to the people,
a light to the nations,
to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
from the prison those who sit in darkness.
I am the LORD,
that is my name;
my glory I give to no other,
nor my praise to idols.
See, the former things have come to pass,
and new things I now declare;
before they spring forth,
I tell you of them.

This is the word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.

I know in the church we don’t believe in astrology and horoscopes, in a person’s zodiac sign as a determiner of destiny. But I would be willing to bet that lots of people read their horoscopes anyway, just for fun. One of the most cliché pick-up lines is “hey, what’s your sign?” Well, my sign is Libra. The symbol for Libra is the scales—we’re supposed to be balanced people who value fairness. Lady Justice is a blindfolded woman holding some scales that look just like the scales of my Libra symbol—suggesting that the justice system is one that values fairness and balance. Now, since this is my sign and these signs supposedly say a lot about who we are, you would think that I (along with everyone else born between the 23rd of September and the 22nd of October) would be experts in the field of justice and fairness. So what explains why I had such a hard time writing a sermon with Justice in the title?
The main problem I’ve had seems to be with the abstract concept of justice. In our American legal understanding, justice seems to mean fairness, balance, equity, and the like. It means that everyone gets treated equally, and that there are consequences to every action. But this balancing act doesn’t seem to be what God means by justice when I read the book of Isaiah, or what Hannah and Mary sang about in their songs praising God’s justice, or even necessarily what Jesus was like all the time. There it seems that God cares especially for the poor and downtrodden, that it isn’t about equality at all but about lifting up the needy and bringing down the mighty.
How can we be a part of this vision of God’s justice when our own idea of what justice is doesn’t seem to square up with God’s? The prophets say that doing justice means caring for the poor, the needy, the outcast, the alien, the orphan, the widow. Deuteronomy says that following the law will lead one into a just relationship with God and neighbor. In the first chapter of Isaiah we hear God shouting at the Israelites that the wealthy and powerful have become so self-absorbed that they forget to care for those less fortunate than themselves. The pious have become so involved in temple ritual that they neglect to feed the hungry. The whole nation ought to be ashamed by this behavior.
So God has sent the servant, in whom God delights. The servant who has been anointed with the Holy Spirit, who will bring forth justice to the whole world. The gospels claim that this servant is Jesus. In his life and in his death, he has established justice. But if that’s the case, where is it? I look around and I don’t see justice in either my usual definition or in God’s definition: instead I see war, I see famine though there is plenty of food for everyone, I see children dying of preventable diseases, I see homeless people on the streets, I see big houses and limousines and Hollywood stars wearing million dollar dresses.
I wondered how I could preach this text and say that God has established justice and thus the work we do is not to bring about justice but to help people see it, or some other way of making it sound like all the work was God’s and we’re just conduits of information somehow. I have agonized over how to make this work. And finally, I think I have a way, a way that reminds us that it’s really God’s work without releasing us of responsibility. The word established has become key. Established doesn’t necessarily mean Accomplished or finished. It just means started. In Christ, God was working for the reconciliation of all creation to Godself. The whole creation is new because God came to live among us, to be our light in the darkness. And now, as we wait between the resurrection and the coming again, the church has been called in righteousness to continue the justice God has established. God has taken us by the hand and kept us. God has given us, the church, as a covenant. God will open the eyes of the blind and lead out the prisoners who sit in dark dungeons. And we, the church, are both the proof and the workers.
Here we are, an organization full of sinful people, people who don’t often do the right thing, people who live with broken relationships, and yet God has called us to be in relationship with our neighbors and with Godself. God has called us to be a light in the dark world. And God is holding our hand the whole time. And so we can be bold enough to do God’s work in the world. Which is why we spend the night at a homeless shelter once a month, lobby for changes in legislation so that children with cancer don’t lose healthcare benefits, tutor kids in reading and math, visit the people who are often forgotten in nursing homes and hospitals, write letters to our congresspeople, go on mission trips to work in soup kitchens and build houses, and countless other things. It’s why we smile at our checkout clerk at Publix. It’s why we support our churches and local charities. Because God has called us, and led us, and given us as a light to the nations.
It isn’t possible to go out and do mission solely as proselytizing. Catherine showed us last week some of the dreadful consequences of forcing Christian faith, complete with Western cultural ideals, on other people in order to save their souls for eternal life. If we claim that Christianity has only to do with eternal life and nothing to do with life in the here and now, then we are severely misrepresenting our God and the work of Jesus. Jesus said “I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.” He cured the sick, cast out demons, fed the hungry, and visited people who needed him. He told stories of how at the last days the king will say “come inherit the kingdom that has been prepared for you, for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” And the people asked when this had happened, and the king said, “as often as you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.” Jesus not only talked about the future in the kingdom, but acted like it was already here among us. The people who were outcasts were welcomed at the table—even known sinners, even tax collectors, even disciples who didn’t understand what was going on. This doesn’t sound like a mission to save eternal souls. It sounds like a mission to exhibit the kingdom of heaven in this world.
I went on an impromptu road trip this weekend, and saw a place in Conyers that you may know about, called the “Church in the Now.” I’ve heard some things about this place that make it seem like perhaps not exactly the type of community I would want to be in, but I am interested in their name. See, this is exactly what we ought to be: we need to be doing mission as the church in the here and now, not as the church of the past, stuck in our ways, and not as the church only interested in the state of our souls after we die. We are interested in what our lives are like here in this place, now in this time, as the children of God. We are interested in what God wants for all God’s children right now, not in whether ultimately every person will go to heaven or not. I’m intrigued by the idea of being a church in the now, just as we call ourselves a church of the new covenant. We are children of the covenant—and we have been given as a covenant, a light to the nations. And we exist here and now, surrounded by people who want to know what God has to say to them in their situation. What does God have to say to us in our current context, our current problems, our current excitements, our local culture? “I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness.” God has called us into right relationship, into reconciliation, into care for one another.
You often hear me talk about the Great Ends of the Church, which are listed in the very first chapter of the Book of Order. The sixth great end is the Exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world. That’s what mission as justice means to me personally. It means that we are engaged in showing the world what the kingdom looks like, because God has already showed us. To do God’s mission in the world is to show forth the kingdom in word and in deed.
We Presbyterians like to sit around in committees and figure out what everything means before we actually do anything. Ann Weems has a poem about this, and about how we can go about this business of exhibiting the kingdom of heaven to the world—which seems a daunting task! Hear her poem “Careful Consideration”:
Certain in-charge church people
expound upon the finer points of doctrine
while the disenfranchised await the verdict.
Meanwhile the holy fools rush in
and touch the outcasts,
creating Good News once again.


Friends, this is good news! The former things have come to pass, and God is declaring new things right here in our midst—before they spring forth, God is telling us of them. And we are called in righteousness, taken by the hand, and given as a covenant and a light. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it. Amen.

beach in a bottle and light up flip-flops

these are the two things i came home with from our impromptu road trip last night. at dinner time, noell and i decided to try to get out of the city to somewhere actually dark and not noisy or smelly, somewhere we could see the stars. soon we were a long way out and we looked at a map. the beach was only a couple more hours, so why not? so, around 2 in the morning we rolled in to Myrtle Beach, SC. We played in the sand and surf, collected sand, water, and some shells in an empty water bottle, and were generally silly.

oh, and for the record: sea foam is not seafoam green but is in fact a kind of icky dirty dish-water beige, like dirty snow. crayola has lied to us our whole lives.

back to the point: we drove all night, we had a blast, we talked, we looked at stars and smelled fresh air, we went to Wal-Mart at 4 in the morning to buy flip flops because shoes were wet, and to get toothbrushes because we wanted to brush our teeth more than anything else, basically, in the whole world. It was great. My flip flops light up like little kid shoes--they are so cool!

so now i have to go write a sermon about justice. justice is: being able to go to the beach to be free of the clutter in order to make coming back more bearable.

well...maybe not. but it is working for a place where everyone can do that. right?

i love the beach. :-)

school is weird

school computers are weird, and i can't see the last post i made...i don't know if it's doing that for y'all too--if so, you won't see this post until i post something new. so there. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

i'm going to scotland!

i'm really really going! The session at St. John's-Renfield Church has "enthusiastically agreed" to my coming, and is going to arrange my housing, in-country transportation, and phone. yay! i'm so excited, i can't even tell you!

also, i'm going on a trip to the Middle East (israel, syria, jordan, egypt...and then greece) in may, which is exciting. woohoo!

all around, a good day. except for the part where my car has not yet been returned to me and won't be until next week. BLEAH.

anyway...yeah. good times!

Celtic Lent IV

The most prevalent of all Celtic symbols is the Celtic knot. Found on the high crosses, on jewelry and in the margins of manuscripts, the knot symbolizes how all things in heaven and earth are intricately intertwined and inseparable. The relationship of the members of the Trinity is the prime illustration of interconnection.
Life in this world is intertwined with life in the world beyond this one. The communion of saints was a vibrant reality for the Celts, who believed that those who had died remained present to them. Only a thin, permeable membrane separates those living on earth and those living with God. This was especially true of the risen Christ, whom the Celts believed is not only at God's right hand but also at theirs.
Even though God can be encountered anywhere, there are also certain "thin places" where this happens most easily. Prayer huts were often constructed on these sites, where people could seek silence and solitude.

well well well...

here we are at ice cream wednesday again. what kind of ice cream do i want today?

Celtic Lent III

For the Celts salvation was the restoration of original goodness. What had been covered needed to be uncovered. What had been lost needed to be found. This finding and uncovering was the work of Jesus, who came to conquer evil and restore creation's goodness. God's Spirit was perfectly present in Jesus, and Jesus' grace makes the restoration possible. As Jesus healed the sick and forgave sinners, he restored their divine image. Once again they could live as God's daughters and sons. Knowing that they were God's sons and daughters and were given the grace to live that way, the Celts understood their goal was to become more and more like God's perfect son, Jesus. They strove to be imitators of him, growing in every way into him (Ephesians 4:15).

ah, buffy...

blah blah blibity blah, i'm so stuffy give me a scone...
:-)

ugh

I don't want to be Melanie! Does that mean I'm going to be whiny yet irritatingly perfect, and die young while having obnoxious children, forcing them on irresponsible women? OY.

In other news, the magnetic church conference starts tonight. yippee! (yeah...)

I returned my rental car today. they were oppressing me. and now I am carless. sad.

but, on the bright side....well....yeah....

my cat is ok. at least she was, three hours ago...

well....whatever

Darling, it seems that you belong in Gone with the
Wind; the proper place for a romantic. You
belong in a tumultous world of changes and
opportunities, where your independence paves
the road for your survival. It is trying being
both a cynic and a dreamer, no?


Which Classic Novel do You Belong In?
brought to you by Quizilla

yay!

Thanks bunches to (anonymous to everyone else but not to me) C.O.V. member.

btw: I have now played the clarinet three times in three days. apparently i'm going to play in church next week: just two of the 6 studies in english folk song, but playing nonetheless. i don't sound as horrible as i expected. my standards must have been lowered by 18 months away from the instrument.

It's weird to be playing again--and I don't think I'll keep it up because, frankly, it makes my arm hurt. anyone ever wondered why their arm hurts? no...well...mine hasn't since i quit, but now it does again.

in addition, i have a new scar on my lip, and i hate that feeling.

anyway. there you go. i've been playing the clarinet. it's weird.

thanks again COV #1!!

it's wednesday

it's wednesday, and i got to sleep in a bit.
it's wednesday, and i am at church (it's my day off...)
it's wednesday, and i have now played the clarinet twice in two days.
it's wednesday, and i don't have class tomorrow (i remembered about two hours ago) b/c we are on field trips and my field trip isn't until next tuesday.
it's wednesday, and i'm going to watch some Buffy and the movie Camp tonight.
it's wednesday...two days until Friday when the John the Baptist fast is back on.
it's wednesday...and i am not caught up on the homework i should have done by now.
it's wednesday...two weeks until the theology exam. oy.

it's wednesday and it is sunny again, unlike tuesday. :-)

clouds?

NOOOO!!! I want the sunshine back!!

In other news, does anyone know how to make the column on the left there (the one that starts with "going to scotland") wider by about 1/3 of an inch? I don't know enough about code and whatnot. Let me know. thanks!

unless...

unless, of course, your 'puter doesn't have cursive fonts. in which case, it's not that exciting. sorry. but you can just imagine it--the titles have become cursive and they're very pretty. when you can see it. :-)

pretty pretty pretty

yay!

beneath the Celtic Cross of Jesus, part II

The good creation has been corrupted by evil

Because it is the work of a good Creator, all of creation is essentially good. However, it has been corrupted by evil. The Celts were not naive about the perniciousness of sin. Evil was an invading army that needed to be driven out. Nature did not always treat the Celts kindly. Their lives were often harsh and hazardous. Invaders plundered and burned their villages. Protection was needed. St. Paul told Christians to "put on the whole armor of God" (Ephesians 6:11), so through prayer Celts "bound" to themselves spiritual breastplates, called Loricas, to reassure them of divine protection. Perhaps the most famous of these is St. Patrick's:

I bind unto myself today the strong name of the Trinity
By invocation of the same, the Three in One, the One in Three
I bind this day to me forever, by power of faith, Christ's incarnation.
His baptism in the Jordan River; his death on the cross for my salvation,
His bursting from the spiced tomb; his riding up the heavenly way,
His coming at the day of doom, I bind unto myself today.

Patrick's Lorica ends with a caim. Caims were prayers spoken as Celts drew a protective circle around themselves. With the right arm outstretched they would turn sunward making a full circle as they recited the caim. Patrick's caim:

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

GRR.

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh.

unless....

unless, of course, there isn't enough snow for that.
or unless it starts raining not long after you wake up, and it's cold nasty rain.
or unless the snow is only sticking on the prickly grass.
or unless you were dressed for going to class, chapel, and church, and not for playing in the snow, and by the time you could change it was all gone.

all of which would, in my mind, imply that there isn't enough snow to cancel school.

but I didn't have to go to class this morning, so that's good, I guess......

make a snowman

when life gives you cold wet snow, make a snowman.

oh the weather outside is frightful...

so it snowed here last night. In Atlanta. about an inch of accumulated snow on the ground. Today public schools, daycares, offices, universities are all closed. The seminary is operating on a "two hour delay". Life has shut down. All over an inch of snow.

Kind of ridiculous, this whole snow thing. I mean really, people, it's a little wet slush--just get over it and get here! Out of control. People in the south obviously have no snow experience, which is really funny, so they're all freaked out, can't drive, don't know how to operate in everyday life, can't walk, don't have clothes for this weather, and can't figure out how to scrape snow off the top (not just the windows) of cars. oy!

It's also kind of funny...and good, actually, because I didn't do all the reading for class today and was planning on finishing during breakfast--then I didn't have to!! :-)

why are you oppressing me?

the computer is forever oppressing me, not posting, etc...maybe it will work now. please?

from Presbyterians Today, 2002, "Beneath the Celtic Cross of Jesus"

For centuries Celtic Christianity was the "road not taken" by the established church. Because it affirmed the goodness of creation and emphasized equality among all believers, the Celtic road was marked with the misleading warning "heretical," and few Christians chanced traveling it. However, noting how it addresses many contemporary concerns, Christians today are walking the Celtic path and finding in their journey a rich spiritual experience.

A brief meandering into Celtic Christianity begins beneath its most recognizable symbol, the ancient high stone crosses that mark Scottish and Irish countrysides. These crosses unite the two touchstones of Celtic theology, creation and salvation. The circle represents God the creator. Pre-Christian Celts worshiped the sun, which they believed to be the source of life. Early Celtic missionaries used these circles as a symbol for the Christian God, the "Creator of heaven and earth." The cross of course is Christ's cross, the symbol of salvation. Chiseled into the crosses are Biblical scenes of God's redemptive acts throughout history.




On the following pages are descriptions of seven characteristics of Celtic theology or spirituality and suggested practices for enriching each week of the Lenten season.

All creation is alive with the presence of God

Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Celtic Christianity is its affinity with nature. The Celts enthusiastically affirmed the psalmist's declaration, "The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims [God's] handiwork" (Psalm 19:1). The Celts believed that all creation is alive with God's presence. Because God's Spirit dwells in all living things, everything is inherently good; therefore all creation is to be treated sacramentally.

A consequence of believing all creation is alive with God's presence was that everything could be a window to God. Celts found nature an "icon." They could "see into" it and see God. Every moment, every location could become a time and place for encountering God.

Celtic Christianity and Lent

There's a great article on the Celtic church and Lent in Presbyterians Today from 2002. I've put a link to the left there. In addition, Each week (or most of a week) I'll be posting the suggested practice at the top of the page, and will put in a regular post the info that informs that practice. watch for this.

in the meantime, have a good ash wednesday...

peace

Shrove Tuesday

well well well...it's pancake day! After (and while) putting together the Lenten devotional for the young adults, we had a pancake party. Good times had by all! Patrick made some excellent pancakes--we had blueberry, strawberry, chocolate chip, and plain. Fab. We also had good times and funnyness. :-)

Now, I've just realized, I have come home from church and it feels early because I normally don't leave church before 9 or 9.30 on Tuesday nights. This is super exciting! I left at about 8:50!

Sometime soon, apparently, i have to break out the clarinet again and see how it is, because I've been BEGGED to play during Lent. We'll see how that goes.

well....i need to do some homework with this free time I've somehow managed to get from somewhere. and I'm going crazy--I swear I thought I saw a bug moving on top of the computer screen across the table from me, but there's nothing there. weird!

right...it is time.
I have David Lamotte songs stuck in my head.
Scenes from the Passion are still swirling.
It's time for me to go....

The Passion

I saw the Passion last night (the Mel Gibson movie that is creating such a stir) at a special screening for some church people.

What did I think? I know you're all dying to know. (bad choice of words, really...)

well: cinematographically, it was well done. The story line was relatively accurate, with occasional embellishments for the sake of cinema/art. There were places when the inaccuracies or embellishments were, well, glaring...but only a few. It was bloody--some of the violence (perhaps a large amount) was potentially unnecessary. There's no need to watch every one of 75 lashes while Jesus is being beaten. BUT: the film did a very good job portraying the horror of crucifixion. Did it make it seem like Jesus' crucifixion was out of the ordinary, when that clearly would not have been the case (we know the Romans crucified thousands)? maybe a little...for example the two bandits crucified with Jesus were not beaten at all, while jesus was literally a bloody pulp by the time they put him on the cross. No wonder the man died in just a few hours. Did the film make the Jews out to be "Christ-killers"? Not any more than the Bible does. The Romans looked worse, actually--they were laughing while beating jesus and the crowds. At least the high priests looked disturbed at the beating scenes. Were the languages a hundred percent accurate? probably not--there were times when the jews were speaking latin and the romans aramaic, and times when they would switch mid-conversation. (probably no one who hasn't studied one or both languages would notice.) women? there were beautiful scenes of Jesus' mother, and of Mary Magdalen...and there were GREAT flashbacks to other gospel scenes. There was good perspective taking--the perspective of the disciples, of the women, of Jesus.

All in all, a good film. hard to watch. hard to recover from. hard to talk about. don't go if you have a weak stomach. don't go if blood makes you pass out. don't go if you want to continue to live in a happy land where crucifixion isn't a form of torture. don't go if you can't comprehend that in order for there to be Christianity at all there had to be the death of Jesus.

but, don't not go because you don't think you can take the challenge of leaving your safe little happy-clappy faith world. And don't not go because you don't like subtitles. To both of those objections i say: get over it. And: don't talk about the film being anti-semitic, too violent, bad, unfaithful to the biblical narrative, dumb, or too Roman-Catholic-preoccupied-with-suffering, UNLESS YOU GO TO SEE IT. Please don't talk about it in an uninformed manner. that's irritating.

so, the final verdict: go see it if you have time. If you want to be an informed person and be able to carry on a conversation with pretty much anyone for the next several weeks, see it. if you are willing to have some challenges, maybe a nightmare, and to have a new perspective on something protestantism has tended to gloss over, go. take some kleenex. get water, not coke. and be ready for an important and relatively fast moving two hours (exactly).

ta.

the letters are off...

the first wave of letters to potential supervisors has been sent. just four. i hope one of them wants me! :-)

keep figuring out ways for me to pay for this experience. think hard. thanks!

must..do..laundry....otherwise no clothes to wear tomorrow! LOL.

la-di-da

i swear i'm going to bed now.

really.

Sunday, Sunday

I know that this post will show up as Monday, but to me it's still Sunday because I haven't gone to bed and woken up again yet. Even though it's 1.30am and I should have done so by now. except the woken up part. anyway...

a good day in church, a great young adult meeting, and an afternoon watching Keeping the Faith. ah, Ben Stiller. :-) Good times with JC, too...and with Ollie, who still has a cone on her head but will probably get it off on Wednesday. Very exciting!

What else is going on?
the sky is pretty....
my room is messy....
i still need money for scotland....
i haven't heard about the trip to Turkey yet, but I prolly won't be going....
i need to turn in my student loan forms....
it's a busy week of catching up on homework ahead....
someday I will exercise again, and that will be good....
i still don't have cable tv. or any tv....
the world appears to still exist, despite attempts by our president to make that stop....

that's all, i think. the end.

David Lamotte concert

I saw David Lamotte on Thursday night. He's so excellent. I love him. I got some new CD's, actually, because I like him so much.
My friend Jason also likes him very much, so it was a good evening. :-)

In other news, just to catch up:
1. Ollie is home. She has been spayed. She still has a cone on her head, for a few more days (until probably Tuesday) to keep her from pulling on her stitches. She is doing well and is substantially calmer than she was before. However, she can't see anything because she has a cone on her head. This may impact her calmness. it would mine.

2. My car is broken again. Something with fuel injectors (bad) and a leaking transmission (also bad). I am in a rental car from Enterprise until it is working again. Hopefully not more than a week!

3. Driving a Neon is very different from driving an Explorer. I feel like I am driving a go-kart.

4. The youth mission trip is on its way to reality--fundraising has begun in earnest. As has my going crazy. yippee!

5. I am very very poor, because the cat is very very expensive. As is renting a car.

6. The trip to Chicago was fab, in my opinion, because I got to see all my friends and fave places and restaurants. Including the Chicago Diner! woohoo! Noell didn't think her interview went well, though, because the woman was obnoxious, uninformed, and hung up on one issue that is nowhere noted in the literature of the school. oy.

7. I am very behind on homework and must go do some very soon.

8. I can't seem to get my act together when it comes to getting photos from youth group developed.

9. Lent begins on Wednesday the 25th. Go to church, people! I want to see everyone walking around with ashes, ok?

10. I don't actually have a 10...but this list needed to be ten. so it is.

It looks like I am going to Scotland...

at least I hope so! I have a long list of potential churches. All I have to do is:
1. send brilliantly written letter (via email) to the short list, asking for more info and asking to be taken on as an 'assistant minister' for september-august.
2. deal with school issues (for being gone, etc) and housing for the summer.
3. raise $12,000 before I go, including money for travel and living. I'm praying HARD that the church I go to serve will be able to provide housing. Really hard.

So...to the end of #3, I have set up a paypal account. If you would like to help me realize my dream of living in Scotland for a year, serving the church, meeting people and forming relationships across cultural boundaries, and learning about church life and myself, please use the "make a donation" button there on the left.

Want more info? email me!

on the road again...

going to chicago. back saturday. may manage to actually blog. tried to blog last weekend...was thwarted by computer/blogger three times. gave up. if this doesn't work, you'll never read it. but anyway. i'm going on a road trip with two friends. and now i must go to bed because noell is making us leave at 6am. bleah.

Call Stories #4, 5 and 6

Call Stories # 4, 5, and 6
(Isaiah 6.1-8, Luke 5.1-11)
Jeremiah 1.4-10
CNCP
February 8 2004

Now the word of the LORD came to me saying,
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,
and before you were born I consecrated you;
I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”
Then I said, “Ah Lord GOD! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” But the LORD sayd to me,
“Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’:
for you shall go to all to whom I send you,
and you shall speak whatever I command you.
Do not be afraid of them,
For I am with you to deliver you,
Says the LORD.”
Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the LORD said to me,
“Now I have put my words in your mouth.
See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms,
To pluck up and to pull down,
To destroy and to overthrow,
To build and to plant.”

In the Presbyterian Church USA, when someone expresses an interest in going to seminary, or in perhaps becoming a minister of the Word and Sacrament, they are sent to, not surprisingly, a committee. This committee is called the “Committee on Preparation for Ministry” (often called the “CPM”) and their job is to make sure that people who enter the ministry are properly prepared. A part of their job is also to make sure that candidates for the ministry are truly called by God to this task in the church, and, of course, to keep out crazy people.
Now, the first thing that happens when you walk into this room full of ministers and elders from churches across the presbytery is that they ask you to tell your call story. Can you imagine what would happen if someone walked in and said, “well, I had a vision, and an angel burned my mouth with a hot coal, and I said, ‘yes, of course I’ll go!’”. Or if someone said, “God put her words in my mouth and said I was supposed to go wherever she sent and speak whatever I was told.” Or if someone said, “well, I was out fishing one day, and Jesus came and almost sank my boat, so I decided he must be for real and when he said “come on now, let’s go.” I left behind my business, the raw fish in the boat, my dirty nets, and my family and just walked on down the beach.” The committee would probably not make any attempt to hide their shock and general displeasure that a church session had allowed this person to come to presbytery rather than suggesting a good mental health professional.
No, the CPM would much rather hear stories like mine, where the candidate says, “I grew up in an unchurched family, I read the Bible in high school, and the Spirit really spoke to me through the scripture, so I started going to church. God was really moving in that congregation so I decided to join, and I was baptized there at age 18. I still feel that God is at work in me and I want to try to do what God tells me to do, because I’m just not happy fighting the Holy Spirit all the time!” Or maybe like the person who went to meet the CPM for the first time the same day I did. He grew up in the church, knows all the good old hymns, the members of his congregation love him, and he feels pulled to new church development projects in Hispanic neighborhoods. Even I could practically hear Jesus when the man talked.
But sometimes call stories just aren’t like that. In Isaiah’s case, it was painful—he must have had at least third degree burns from that coal. In Jeremiah’s case he didn’t want to go, and throughout his whole life he was persecuted, beaten, and often unhappy because no one liked him, but God had put God’s words in Jeremiah’s mouth so Jeremiah just couldn’t keep silent. In fact, later in the book he wrote that when he tried to keep quiet, the Word was like a fire in his bones and he just couldn’t keep it inside. These prophets were literally on fire for God. God called and they followed, even to places they didn’t understand or want to go.
I feel like I can resonate with the “going to places one doesn’t understand” call. I spent January in Jamaica. Last May, when I found out I was going there, I was excited. I had heard some things about Jamaica—sun, sand, surf, nice crafts for low prices, lots of swimming…the commercials for the Sandals resort look great! And Air Jamaica advertises champagne service between Atlanta and Montego Bay—how exciting! So last summer and fall, I had lots of comments about how nice it must be to be taking a month off from school, work, and cold weather to go on vacation.
But, during the months of November and December my group got to know some of the details of our trip from the professor—and from some people who had been on the trip in the past (often a much more telling story). We learned that we would be in Kingston for most of the three weeks. We learned that Jamaica is what is now known as a “Developing Nation”—which used to be called “3rd world.” We learned that crime is a huge problem, that drug smuggling and drug usage are the most common crimes, and that the murder rate in Kingston is 2-3 times that of Atlanta. That made my mom feel better. We learned that the history of the country was rooted in death—the Spanish brought death to the natives, the British brought slavery so brutal that slaves died so quickly they never had families like they did in the US, and there was a constant flow of African slaves into the country until emancipation—which came in the 1830’s, well before it did in the US. We learned that the economy, formerly held up by sugarcane, is now mainly based on tourism in the north, and on bauxite (the base for aluminum) in the mountains. The southern half of the island, particularly the southeastern corner where Kingston is located, has very little in the way of jobs. We learned that we would be staying at the United Theological College of the West Indies, in cottages which would have four bedrooms and a bathroom, and that we would eat meals at the University cafeteria. We learned that chicken and fish were the most popular foods—bad news for a vegetarian!
And so we began to try to explain that we weren’t going on a vacation, that we were going to stay in a third-world city, a city that contains half the island’s population. And then, suddenly, the holidays were over, the first week of January had arrived, and it was time to go! We went to the airport very early in the morning. And now, I can say in retrospect that Air Jamaica is NOT my favorite airline. We finally arrived in Kingston (though just barely, some of us thought) and were met by sounds, smells, and a lack of air conditioning despite the 90 degree weather. We got to the seminary and were greeted by a professor, who explained our schedule to us. In the mornings we would have lectures on different sectors of Jamaican life: the arts, health care, families, crime and the prison system, the economy, Rastafarianism, etc. In the afternoons we would pile onto our bus and visit places like hospitals, prisons, missions, children’s homes, schools, churches, even a bauxite plant. In the evenings we would have group reflection and worship. “Where is our free time?” we wondered. Did we have any chances to go to the pool, to take naps, to walk around? Well, UTC is very near one of Kingston’s many ghetto neighborhoods, so we were not to walk around. The rest of our question was answered by, basically, a “no.” So, having heard the schedule, we went to our cottages. They literally were four bedrooms and an attached bathroom. It wasn’t long before we learned that the cottages do not have hot water. Dinnertime came and we learned that curried goat is also a common food in Jamaica. And I ate the first of many servings of “rice and peas”—white rice with a few red beans cooked in.
Now, this may sound like a place not many people would want to go. My mosquito net was the first thing to come out of the suitcase. The lizard that lived in our fourth bedroom was kept under close watch. Our key was in the door at all times, because we were to lock ourselves in, to lock ourselves out, to basically keep the door locked 24 hours a day. It was hot, and the windows are the slatted type that open so bugs can come in, but hot air doesn’t seem to go far. All in all, our first night was quite the interesting experience!
But soon we were off and running, meeting people, going places, visiting churches, playing with children, and seeing God at work even in that place of great poverty. The majority of the people in Kingston live in neighborhoods lined with corrugated aluminum shacks…but always in view of the area called “Beverly Hills”—up on the hill, with large, ostentatious houses (even by our standards). Kingston is dirty and crowded, goats roam freely around the roads, garbage piles burn on the street, and there are so many interesting smells that I can’t describe them to you. Suffice it to say that “interesting” is a euphemism carefully chosen.
We met some amazing people: like Dave Spence, the pastor of the North Street United Church, in the inner city area of Old Kingston. He is the only pastor, there are several hundred members, and the congregation runs a daycare, a school, skills classes for women in the community, a computer room, a health clinic, a program where nurses and psychologists visit teenagers at home to talk to them about healthy lifestyle choices, a bakery…the list goes on and on. I got tired just listening to the man talk! He was so clearly called to that place, in that time—his amazing energy, his commitment to the people of the community, his willingness to listen when people want to share their needs, and his vision for what God’s community ought to be like were absolutely awe-inspiring. He was an Isaiah—he was touched, and when God called he said, “Here I am, send me!!” You can practically see him, like an eager child, hand raised so high that he’s almost standing up, going “ooh, ooh, mememememe!!!!” We met some children at the Mustard Seed Community who had been abandoned because they were handicapped—children with cerebral palsy, elephantitis, scoliosis so severe that their ribcages were literally twisted. These children had bright eyes, though, when they could open them, and they loved to be touched. They were beautiful children. We met children at schools, who wanted to touch our white skin and my curly hair, who wanted to know if I wore contact lenses, who begged us to come visit their classroom so they could show off the good work they’d done. And we met the people who run these places—the priest in charge of the Mustard Seed community was practically Mother Teresa for some of us. The teachers who have over 40 2nd graders in their class. People who do fantastic work with limited resources. People who love all God’s children. People who come to work every day even though there was a gunfight in the neighborhood yesterday and a teacher was shot last year at this time. People who really felt that they did not need to be afraid, because God was with them, and they were chosen and appointed to do this work for God’s people.
Something amazing began to happen while we were in Kingston. The fear and anxiety that I, at least, and I know others of our group, had felt about going to this country where we would be so obviously white and so obviously wealthy began to disappear. It was as if God said to us “Do not be afraid, for I am with you.” After all, here we were, in a place we didn’t know…because God had called us and said “you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.” We went and we saw, and we listened, and we spoke, and we made friends. Soon we could all see that we were sent to this place…and many of us didn’t want to come back. Not just because it was warm there, and we kept hearing about the freezing weather here, not just because we had new friends, or the opportunity to go to the beach in only 4 hours….but because the church in Jamaica is vibrant, there is work to be done, and we wanted to be a part of that work, that amazing new thing God is doing.
But we had to come back. Because God is doing amazing new things right here in our own churches. God doesn’t just call people to exotic locations. God doesn’t just call people who are especially smart, especially wealthy, or especially educated. God calls the ordinary people. Jeremiah was a young adult when he had his experience—one who didn’t want the responsibility, not unlike many of us 20- and 30-somethings today. Simon Peter, James, and John, were ordinary fishermen. Isaiah was an average Israelite. Dave Spence is a regular person. The 2nd grade teacher at Calabar primary school, with 40 kids in her class, is an ordinary person. The people who come before CPMs around the country are students, workers, unemployed persons, parents, grandparents, daughters... they haven’t necessarily had a grand vision of God in the heavenly court surrounded by angels. If they have they won’t tell the committee. No…God calls ordinary people in ordinary ways, to do extraordinary work.
God doesn’t only call individuals, but indeed calls whole congregations, the whole church. The Presbyterian Book of Order lays out several things the church is called to do: to proclaim the gospel in word and deed, to fight injustice, to feed the hungry, to minister to those in need. And then it says a most amazing thing: The church is called to do this “even at the risk of losing its life, trusting in God alone as the author and giver of life, sharing the gospel, and doing those deeds in the world that point beyond themselves to the new reality in Christ.”
And so we are the ones who are called. We are the ones who share the gospel with a hungry world. We are the ones who point beyond ourselves to the One who calls us. God tells us not to be afraid—for God is with us as we go to all to whom we are sent, as we speak all we are commanded, as we leave everything and follow.

slacker. or busy. not sure which.

I know I am a slacker. I'm sorry. I'm also quite busy. I think. At least I feel busy. School started again today. Church is humming along. basically, I need a nap, but my brain is racing and i don't really have time. oh, and it's bedtime anyway. hmm....perhaps bedtime is a good thing. I have to write a sermon this week, after all!

I hope everyone is behaving themselves, and not being too TOO desperate to hear from me. I'm going to try to write something every night, but don't get too excited yet, people. I believe I've said this before and have yet to follow through. But this is a new year, a new semester, a new...umm...well, a new something. Anyway....
be good.
:-)

i'm home

I'm home now. it's cold here, but I have hot showers. good times. I'm not sure I was ready to come home--there were a lot of things I loved about Jamaica and about UTC, and as usual there are a lot of things I don't like about the US and the way I fall so easily back into the individualistic culture and all that. anyway, the trip was GREAT, but had its hard moments. for more details, email me. :-) for now, I'm tired and going to bed.

elastic toilet paper and cold showers

Well, here I am in Jamaica. Kingston, Jamaica. A big city (over 1.2 million people--half the population of Jamaica, actually), one with lots of issues. basically a third world city. i'm living at the theological college. we have toilet paper that is very stretchy. we take cold showers. we go to lectures, we visit places (lots of schools and churches, plus other organizations). i have eaten more rice with a few red beans than ever before. also fried plantains, which are very good. I recommend them to all.

we are half way through the trip...it's sunny and warm, the people are nice, and tomorrow we are taking a trip to the beach for the weekend. Thank goodness for a mini-vacation in the midst of a very busy trip!

our group is getting along pretty well. we have cottages with four bedrooms, and there are just three of us in our cottage. i live in a mosquito net and a constant perfume of insect repellent. I love insect repellent! it's the trendy new scent, obviously!

hmm....what else? our bus driver is fab. the country is beautiful, the city is full of poverty and wealth--a very great disparity. We live in one of the poorer areas, and today I visited one of the many poor inner city neighborhoods. quite interesting!

that's all for now, because the internet is quite slow and we don't have a lot of time. other people want to use the 'puter in their own library! I think I might read some more Jamaican short stories. hopefully they will stop being so depressing! (the first 11 of the 22 in the book were mainly depressing, with sad endings involving people getting shot, losing their families, or being unhappy in some way.)

The end....perhaps i'll blog again when we return from the coast next week, or perhaps not until I get back. do watch this space for more fabulous insights on living in the big jamaican ghetto city! :-)

peace and love, man! ;-)

top ten fab things about christmas 2003

10. learning to play the star wars XBox game with a five year old boy, at a frightfully lame adult Christmas party.
9. a new stuffed panda. name still TBD.
8. mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, mom's enchiladas and homemade refried beans.
7. David Lamotte CD's, good movies, and the threat of stealing my cousin's Legolas poster.
6. Grandma's butterscotch brownies. Oh, those are so good.
5. FIVE GOOOLLLLLLDEEENNNN RINNNGSSS>......oh, wait, no. umm...five flavors of jelly bellys.
4. not telling the secret of mom's HUGE present for more than a week!
3. nearly telling my aunt that I hated her dog. Except I never even came close to saying that--she just wanted me to, of course, so she'd have a reason to be irritated. Except that once she asked me if I'd said it, I was like "no"...but in my head I thought "but yes!"
2. the look on my brother's face when he opened a gift full of scripture from major world religions.
1. A new preaching robe! By far the best present. beautiful. Everyone loves it. If they weren't so hot I'd wear it all the time, except around animals that might drool on it (aka dogs).

Sing, Sing, Sing

Sing, Sing, Sing
Colossians 3.12-17
CNCP
December 28, 2003

As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.


When World War I erupted in 1914, launching the first great European war of the 20th century, soldiers on both sides were assured they would be home by Christmas to celebrate victory. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.
The men on the fronts did not get home that Christmas…or the next Christmas, or the next, as the war dragged on for four years. During that time 8.5 million men were killed, with hundreds of thousands more injured. The "war to end all wars" took a horrific human toll and transformed Europe.
However, on Christmas Eve in 1914 one of the most unusual events in military history took place on the Western front. It was a very cold night. Looking over the trench, the British soldiers saw German soldiers holding up lanterns and Christmas trees. Within moments of that sighting, the British began hearing a few German soldiers singing a Christmas carol. It was soon picked up all along the German line as other soldiers joined in, harmonizing.
British troops immediately recognized the melody as "Silent Night" and began to sing along. One by one, British and German soldiers began laying down their weapons to venture into no-man's-land, the small patch of bombed-out earth between the two sides. There was an undeclared truce and peace had broken out.
Frank Richards was an eyewitness of this unofficial truce. In his wartime diary he wrote: "We stuck up a board with 'Merry Christmas' on it. The enemy stuck up a similar one. Two of our men threw off their equipment and jumped on the parapet with their hands above their heads as two of the Germans did the same, our two going to meet them. They shook hands and then we all got out of the trench and so did the Germans."
That night, former enemy soldiers sat around a common campfire. They exchanged small gifts from their meager belongings - chocolate bars, buttons, badges and small tins of processed beef. Men who only hours earlier had been shooting to kill were now sharing Christmas festivities, showing each other family snapshots, and singing Christmas carols together.
This amazing story is one that is well known to many, particularly after the history channel’s program about it last week. How awesome it must have been—a welcome silence from guns and shouting, from death all around, this singing of carols, joining of enemies as friends.
Singing is also one of the things that joins together our whole culture during the Christmas season. I really think that, as a society, we do more singing at Christmastime than any other time of year. Carols are playing in every store, elevator, and phone hold system. Songs sung in church are hummed and sung together by friends and families, by groups of carolers in our neighborhoods and hospitals. There are churches that host a “Sing-Along Messiah” where everyone can join in on Handel’s glorious work.
Singing brings us together—as a society, as friends, and as family. It breaks right through traditional religious lines. Christmas carols are sung together by church goers and atheists alike—especially in my family. Many in my family are atheist or agnostic, but they sing with gusto when it comes to “Joy to the World”, “Angels we have heard on high”, and even “Good Christian Friends”! We always sing carols at this time of year. Mom and I hunt for the most singable CD, then bake and cook (and eat more than we should)—all the while singing along with “Little Drummer Boy”, “O Come All Ye Faithful”, and dozens of other songs playing on the kitchen CD player.
This year, some of my family watched hours of Christmas Eve television shows of Christmas carol singing and playing—a handbell concert, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, even the Presbyterian Church’s televised service of Lessons and Carols. Much of the time we sang along (sometimes aloud and sometimes whispered) and we were all pretty happy. We forgot briefly about each other’s annoying traits. We truly loved, and we forgave funny voices, bad attempts at harmony, and thwarted jokes about the Hallelujah Chorus. Singing drew us together. It didn’t matter that members of my family had celebrated four weeks of shopping and wrapping while I observed four weeks of hopeful and expectant waiting for God. It didn’t matter that some of us believe the holiday commemorates God’s breaking in on our world, and some think there might not even be a God. It doesn’t matter that some of us celebrate church Christmas and some cultural Christmas. The sacred and secular approaches to Christmas are brought together in song.
Singing is also a crucial part of the biblical story (and the lectionary!) for this holy day. The angels in Luke are singing. The psalms for the Christmas season all begin with “Sing to the Lord a new song!” The Prophets tend to talk about new things God is doing and is going to do, and how the people sing of them. And here we have Paul telling us—quite directly!—“With gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.” This is definitely one thing we can all do together.
I nearly did an experiment at the airport on Friday morning. I wasn’t entirely sure what would happen to me if I tried this, so I kind of wimped out, but I was severely tempted. I thought I would just randomly begin to sing a Christmas carol while I was waiting in the gate area for two hours. You know, just strike up something relatively harmless like “Deck the Halls” and see if people would join in. Then maybe move on to a more overtly Christian song like “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and see where that got me. I did hum quite loudly but couldn’t get up the courage to actually sing words out loud in the airport. It’s a good thing that’s not what the soldiers did on the battle field on the first Christmas Eve of World War I. Instead they had the courage to lift their voices, to walk out on the battle field, and exchange gifts with their enemies. That’s what I call clothing yourself in compassion, humility, kindness, patience, meekness, and love. Singing drew them together as human beings, as the chosen people of God.
It’s hard work to clothe oneself in compassion, humility, kindness, patience, and meekness. More often I think we cloak ourselves in these things—kindness and patience in particular. Now, I say “cloak” because—at least some of the time—it really is just a disguise. For example, some members of my extended family don’t really like each other—to say the least. Nonetheless, at holiday time we all get together and pretend that we like to spend time together. We cloak ourselves in kindness and patience, but that patience wears thin and the kindness tends to disappear as soon as the irritating ones are out of earshot.
Now, I know that not all families are like this, but I would be willing to bet that many families have at least one person or one sector that is less than enjoyable. How often do we cloak ourselves in kindness, humility, and patience and claim we are clothing ourselves? I cannot even number the times that is true for me. But the good news is that we are forgiven, and we forgive, and we do in fact love one another—for love is deeper than simply liking each other or being able to get along for an extended period in close quarters. Love is no substitute for kindness or patience, but it sure does help us forgive those things that get in the way of kindness and patience!
Love also helps us to sing. God has given us the ability to cross all kinds of lines with a simple melody. And in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of the holidays, in the middle of all the frustration, the travel, the chatter, and the tearing of gift wrap, comes God. God has broken out into our world as a small child, and the angels are singing. The Word has come to dwell among us, and may it dwell in us richly. The very Spirit of God has come and is here and will always be, for the simple melody is one of love—and love binds all things together in perfect harmony. It doesn’t matter if your harmonizing skills are a little out of practice. It doesn’t matter if you think you can’t sing. Everyone can sing, because God has given us voices and songs.
These voices are given for singing of God’s glory and our amazement. The very first question of the Heidelberg catechism states that the chief end of human beings is to glorify God. In Luke’s story, glory and amazement abound. The glory of the Lord shone around, the angels were surrounded by the whole heavenly host, and the shepherds were amazed. Those shepherds went to find the child and they were amazed, for all was just as it had been told them. And on their way home, the shepherds glorified and praised the Lord, and who knows?...maybe they sang of the amazing experience for the whole journey. It probably didn’t matter whether they all had similar opinions before they went, or even when they were returning. It probably didn’t matter how they were dressed, whether they went to the synagogue as often as they should, whether they offered as many sacrifices as they ought, or how many gifts their children got at Hanukkah. What mattered was that they had an encounter with God and they lived to sing about it. Singing drew the shepherds and angels together in the presence of God, who was right in their midst.
It’s hard to see how this can work for us—in our divided world, where some eat plenty and some starve, some fight and others protest, some sleep peacefully while others lie awake wondering what new horror tomorrow will bring How are we supposed to sing together in the midst of all the talking and the suffering? Perhaps we ought to do what the soldiers in did in 1914 and what I wanted to do on Friday—just start singing and see where that gets us. That’s what the Taizé community has done—they just started singing short memorable songs and using them for prayer and praise. Now more than 100,000 people from over 100 countries visit the community in France every year, and hundreds of thousands more join in sung prayer services all around the world. The Taizé community’s one word for its ministry is “reconciliation”—and they seem to be doing a great job. People from all over the world are singing with one voice, and God’s chosen people—the holy and beloved ones of God—are singing and praying. Truly the Word is dwelling among us, the light is shining in the darkness, and many are trying to be the one body we are called to be.
The story of Christmas is an amazing one, one we have the privilege of replaying every year, of remembering, of celebrating. God in all God’s glory has come to earth and makes a home among mortals. And God has done it as a baby, not as a full grown king, not as an angel, not as some unseen force. A small child—a miracle in and of himself, not to mention that this baby is the incarnate Word of God. And there’s more good news from Paul: The Word dwells in us now—for God has come and is with us always—even to the end of the world. Paul prays that the Word will dwell in us richly, and that everything we do will be in the name of the Lord Jesus, who has come into the world to be its light—a light the darkness of the world cannot overcome. And so we sing. We sing of God’s love, we sing God’s glory, we sing all together as the chosen people of God. Indeed, we join our voices together with people of all times and places, with angels, and with the whole choir of heaven: Glory to God in the highest! Amen.

rudolph the red nosed reindeer

...had a very shiny nose...blah blah blah...."you'll go down in history!" then kids interject.... what?

What is it you stick into that spot?

you know...."shouted out with glee (yippee!!)...rudolph the red nosed reindeer, you'll got down in history (like______!)."

I'm very curious. apparently different people say different things there.
We always said "like Lincoln!" don't ask why....apparently lincoln is the most famous person we could come up with, i don't know. but my dad does it too. maybe it's a northwest thing. so now i'm asking: what do you say there?

home

well, i'm "home" with my fam for the holidays. there's snow on the ground (some), it's kind of chilly, and i'm three time zones away from where i was this morning. the flight was LOOOOOOONNNNNNNNGGGGGG. on the bright side, we ate lunch at Georgio's, my fave sub place, and guess who was there?
you'll never guess.
Jay Buhner.
That's right. mariner's outfielder Jay Buhner. he was just sitting in a booth, eating a sub. i wish i had asked what kind it was. anyway...it was cool. Very Cool.

Just a note re: the post below.
I like church. I really do. Leading worship is one of the coolest and most energizing things i do.
but the fact remains that when one is tired and facing the prospect of going to bed late and getting up early, it doesn't matter what's going on "tomorrow", all that matters is that it's too early and you want to sleep.
Just saying.
and, for the record, i got sick on Sunday and spent the week sniffling, coughing, and being generally miserable. Because apparently my body was tired of being pushed to its limits every single day and just wanted a break. too bad it wanted the break during finals week. bleah.

anyways, i'm safely home and am now seeking the recipe noell uses for balsamic vinegared-stuffed with something-portobello mushrooms. so i must go. ta.

i am tired.
and there's church tomorrow.
oy.

ice water

well, apparently drinking ice water burns more calories than drinking warm water. but isn't this the same theory that birthed the pizza-and-pop-and-ice cream-diet?

Unfortunately I can find no evidence that ice water isn't good for you. Except that if you've been exercising, you should drink room temperature water....something about shocking your body when your own body temp is high, or something. this is currently unconfirmed info.

I just found out that i have to do a ton of greek translation by tuesday, so i can't spend time looking this up anymore. if anyone knows, by all means share! :-)

happy monday. well, sunday night.
:-)

the first thanksgiving?

**The folklore taught in schools has it that the Pilgrims originated the Thanksgiving festival and that they provided the Native Americans with a feast they had never seen. In fact, the opposite is true. In November 1621, one year after the Pilgrims arrived in Plymouth, the Pilgrims celebrated harvest festival jointly with the Native Americans-a harvest festival that the native inhabitants had been celebrating for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Most of the food at this festival was supplied by Native Americans. It was a meal that the Pilgrims had never witnessed, consisting of native American foodstuffs. The main meal was a sort of corn meal mush along with nuts and fruits such as gooseberries, strawberries, plums, cherries, cranberries and a groundnut known as the bogg bean. Popcorn and popcorn balls made by the Indians with maple syrup were served as a sweet. There was a variety of breadstuffs such as cornpone, ashcakes, and hoe cakes, made by Native Americans from their own recipes. It is also possible that other native foods such as pumpkin and squash were served. In his Food Encyclopedia, James Trager tells us that there is a live possibility that turkey wasn't even served. It's true that the Indians provided some deer meat, and game birds, but they were side dishes and not the focus of the meal. So the 1620 Thanksgiving dinner proper in 1620 was probably a totally vegetarian one, because the Pilgrims were unable to find animal flesh. The second Thanksgiving in 1621 was also catered by the Native Americans. Not only was it probably turkeyless, but it was mainly vegetarian. Doesn't it make more sense, therefore, that instead of celebrating Thanksgiving as an orgy of Turkey slaughter, Americans should celebrate a vegetarian harvest festival? **
(from this great page)

conclusions from previous two posts

1. turkeys are dumb but killing them is probably still wrong, especially the way it's done, and who wants to eat dead animal? think about the live turkey while you're chowing down. Whose mother did you kill for your own pleasure?

2. it probably isn't good for you, but it sure does taste good. this is not different from anything else you could eat, including pie. except pumpkin, which doesn't even taste good.

3. tradition isn't a valid reason to do anything else, so really this isn't it either. Besides, the tradition is most likely wrong.

4. everyone should go to one of those vegetarian thanksgiving parties where they have a live turkey running around, because that's kind of cool.

5. just eat mashed potatoes, people. :-)

top reasons to go ahead and eat turkey (from the vegetarian)

1. turkeys are stupid and possibly deserve to die.
2. it tastes good. well, dark meat does. it might be the ONLY meat that tastes good, actually.
3. tradition.

top reasons not to eat turkey

1. it's dead. gobble gobble.
2. only the dark meat is worth eating and it's apparently bad for you.
3. it will make you sleepy.
4. you have to clean up after you cook it and that's just gross.
5. The turkeys have been treated horribly, may have been boiled alive, and were raised standing in their own poo. that's just awful.
6. 90% of all turkey meat is contaminated with some kind of bacteria. (peta brochure)

uses of ice besides beverages, where it shouldn't be anyway

Well, there are the obvious:
*ice packs
*freezing ice cream (in a homemade-ice-cream-maker)
*keeping in ice chests, lunch boxes, etc, to keep things cold while you get ready to use them.
*putting in plants, to water them slowly for a while rather than drowning them with a hose
*putting down your friend's shirts when they are hot. or when they are cold.
*melting, then filtering, for drinking water
*freezing your credit cards so you won't use them (theoretically)
*chilling wine (in one of those buckets designed to do this...not just in a pitcher you fill with ice then stick the wine bottle in. I mean, that does work, but it's much less efficient and much less easy than the wine bucket.)
*rubbing on your lips after you've played a wind instrument for too long. Popsicles are better, but ice works in a pinch. However, see below on nasty unfiltered water ice. bleah.
*put ice in front of a small fan to cool the air that is blowing through your room.
*put in pet's water bowl in the summer to keep water cool. Pets don't care about filtered water.
*cleaning gum off of fabric. or hair. peanut butter also often works for this.
*cleaning candle wax off just about anything. I haven't tried this on hair but it would probably work. However, if you have candle wax in your hair you need to rethink your habit of standing underneath dripping candles.
*getting paper wet. if you wanted to do this very slowly, you could...just put an ice cube on some paper. soon it will be wet.
*breaking things. ie: computers, printers, toasters, books, windows, etc. you can either throw ice cubes, thus shattering whatever it is you wish to break, or put the ice cube in it and wait for it to melt, thus disabling whatever you are breaking. I don't recommend this necessarily, I'm just saying you could.
*melting. i don't know why you would want to do this--you obviously already have water. and i already said this about 8 lines up.
*holding. i mean, if you were really hot, just holding an ice cube might help cool you down.
*put them in your bath. a cold bath is probably good for your skin somehow. maybe. but this means you can't have a hot bath, because the ice will melt. really this thought is only ideal if you are the person in one of those urban legends...who's had a kidney removed and wakes up in a bathtub full of ice. you know the ones. they aren't true.
*testing the strength of paper towels. how many ice cubes can your paper towel hold? I bet Bounty or Brawny or one of those B-brands can hold a lot. at least their commercials claim they can.
*preserving bugs. your ice maker probably does this for you already. look carefully when you get ice out of it, otherwise you might drink a fruit fly. eew.

ok, i'm tired now and need a nap, but first i have to plan some youth group. which starts in 55 minutes. hmm......maybe no nap. sad.
happy sunday. stay away from ice in your beverages. :-)

sadness

today i had to eat ice cream from my freezer because i couldn't get to Jake's (car still dead).

In other news, yes, I realize that ice put into ramen noodles would still be unfiltered, but you see, one wouldn't notice the nasty taste because of the obscene amount of salt in the flavoring for ramen noodles. With a little luck, that same obscene amount of salt might just kill off any nastiness in your unfiltered ice cube.

alternatively, you could just wait until it was cool enough to eat. That takes about what, a minute and a half?

church tomorrow. as usual. i might be typing that here every saturday night from now until i die. i wonder if I can keep that up, or if i'll forget at some point, and someone will ask "hey, Teri, didn't you go to church on sunday? because you didn't tell us you were going to. yes, i know you're a minister...so?"

Friday, Friday...

well, some homework done, but not enough to count. Crap.

Now it's friday so I'm just going to try to get it done at some point. before the end of the weekend.

in the meantime, we're talking about Thanksgiving in the youth group this week. How is that going to go, you ask? Well, that is the question, isn't it.

Today we had communion like an actual meal--we had people sit around tables we brought into the chapel, and share bread and grape juice. It was cool and everyone loves us for our experimental chapel. Brilliant!

I think that ice is not good. in fact, ice might be satanic somehow. think about it. not only is it super cold, in fact colder than you probably really need it to be, but it also falls out of the glass on you when it decides to move randomly. then you spill on yourself and look like a dumbass. and really, who wants that? and what if you're wearing white and you spill coke? or cranberry juice? or grape juice? or coffee? i mean, really. why, people, why?
or, at the very least, why not use a straw?
also, ice tends to be made from unfiltered water, which means it makes your drink taste bad and probably infects it with all kinds of impurities.

i think the europeans have it right. they don't even make ice for drinks usually.

maybe this weekend i'll post a list of uses of ice that are not beverage related.
for example, it can be used to cool ramen soup that is too hot.
it can be used to put down people's shirts when they are very hot. except my experience is that people don't actually appreciate that.

hmm...yes. watch this space.

In the meantime, I'll be going for a much better form of ice: the kind followed with cream. that's right, Jake's, here I come!

bulletin, check.

homework, not check.

come to think of it, maybe the bulletin is not yet a check.
because, you see, it doesn't have any music in it. the music needs to be reduced on the copy machine.
then i can check off the bulletin.
but not the homework.

crap.

if all of the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops

then we'd all be fat, and our tongues would tingle from so much sugar and hard candy, and someone would likely have an eye poked out by a lemon drop.

but it would be kind of fun.

just saying.

naturally...

I'm brilliant. i mean, obviously.

I preached well today--or maybe I'm supposed to say something like "God used me to speak today" or some such thing, but I was up until 4 in the morning rewriting/finishing the sermon, so you know what? I did a good job. And I'm brilliant.

Don't worry, I'm not at a loss for self esteem. Humility, maybe. Self esteem, no.

In other news, 8th grade girls talk a lot. And so do I. But really, what parent truly expects that a room full of middle school girls is going to finish anything on time? And what parent asks a church group to hurry up and finish praying? honestly. it's church people, we run over. and we pray. just saying.

amy's chili is good.
noell's black bean soup is good.
mrs. dryman's spaghetti sauce (portobella mushroom) was good.
jake's ice cream is the best place ever. except happy mart. well, on the other hand, happy mart is 6 hours away in a very sketchy small appalachian town, and jake's is about a mile from home. so really it's a question of convenience as to who wins the best-place-ever award.

apparently the car is fixable after all. as in, if there's a new engine put in, it will work again. so it has gone to the doctor again, this time a far-away doctor, a specialist if you will, and it will be gone for about a month. but it will come back and be like new. this is very exciting. Very.

now, while i wait for a ride, i'm going to work on the mission trip.

goodnight, all...

Speak Up

Speak Up!
1 Samuel 1.1-2.10
CNCP
November 16 2003

God seems to have a history of closing wombs and forgetting about women, then miraculously remembering them. First we had Sarah, then Rebekah, and Rachel, and now Hannah. Except this time it seems God had some help in remembering—maybe God got a remembrel—you know, in Harry Potter they’re those glass orbs that get red smoke in them when you’ve forgotten something…and God finally remembered what it was God was forgetting—Hannah!
Who sent this remembrel? Hannah, of course….but why? Why was it so important that Hannah not be forgotten? Well, for starters, her husband’s other wife, Peninnah, was mean. Can’t you just hear her calling Hannah names and mocking her—“o barren one” , “dry well” , “worthless wife…” , “hey, Hannah, your oven is off” …. She was irritating, she was mean, and she caused some serious depression. It doesn’t take long for this kind of verbal abuse to become a part of you—something you believe, something that you won’t talk back to or stand up against because you secretly wonder if it’s right and you don’t deserve to be called a person. That’s what Peninnah was doing—in this story she represents the whole ancient society, telling Hannah that she is worthless, that she is not a whole person (or even a person at all) because she isn’t like everyone else, her experience is different, she’s not useful to her husband…for she has borne no children. In this story, Hannah never talked back to Peninnah—perhaps she didn’t have the strength or the will, perhaps she didn’t have the heart, perhaps she didn’t have the self-esteem. In any case, Peninnah continued her abuse year after year.
Hannah’s husband, Elkanah, doesn’t seem to be much better. Sure, he loves her in spite of her barrenness, he even gives her a double portion at the time of the yearly sacrifice—but he isn’t terribly sensitive. If he has to ask why Hannah is sad, why she cries, and why she won’t eat, then he’s not paying a lot of attention to his family dynamics. Then he asks the problematic question: “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” Translation for modern readers: “Can’t I be enough for you?” Hannah can’t answer this question.
Maybe people read this as a loving question—Elkanah loved Hannah even though she didn’t have any children. Others, however, might point out that perhaps it is one of those moments—you know the ones, when you think you’re saying the right thing but you really, aren’t—insinuating that he alone could change the eyes of society and give her personhood, as if he alone could simply remove all the expectations and judgments of the community from her. A barren woman in those days was of no worth, and everyone knew it. Besides, it would be easy for him to say, since he already has children to be his heirs. It’s not like he needs Hannah’s children to carry on his family line, and her children wouldn’t be among his firstborn anyway, because Peninnah’s several children have snatched up the biggest portions of any inheritance.
But Hannah doesn’t answer her husband’s question. She remains completely silent. She is depressed, she has lost her appetite and her voice. So she does the only thing she can—she goes into the house of the LORD and prays. She makes a deal: “God, if you’ll remember me and give me a son, I’ll give him right back to you.” She doesn’t seem to want the child for herself or her husband—she doesn’t want him to have around the house or the farm, to be a comfort or help, or to carry on the family line. The most important thing for Hannah is not to have the child with her, it’s to have the child. So she bargains, and she is fervent in her prayer. Only the most desperate woman in the most desperate situation could make this prayer, with this promise to God that she’d give up the child she so longed for. That kind of desperation led her to a make a desperate deal.
However, as she made this prayer, Hannah wasn’t speaking out loud. She was just property, she wasn’t worth much, and she had probably so internalized Peninnah’s abuse that she didn’t have a voice to speak with anymore—she had been silenced by her community, as so many people still are. Unfortunately Eli, the priest, thought she was drunk because she was moving her lips without making a sound. He confronted her about making a spectacle of herself there, in the Temple of the LORD. He essentially confirmed her worthlessness and demanded that she leave behind her sinfulness. But Hannah has finally had the last straw: she finds her voice and defends herself to this priest, to this man of God who is supposed to see everyone as God’s child and servant, this one person who shouldn’t think the worst of her but apparently does anyway. “Do not consider me a worthless woman!!!” she says. She has at long last stood up for herself and contradicted what everyone has been thinking. She has been continuously silenced by a community that considers her worthless, by Peninnah who abuses and insults her, and now the priest is impugning her integrity too! Hannah does NOT stand for this. “Do not consider me a worthless woman. I have been praying this whole time, in great anxiety and distress.” Hannah is silent no more.
Eli was probably shocked that this woman, this worthless woman, had talked back to him. How dare she? He was also, hopefully, upset with himself for not being able to tell the difference between prayer and drunken stupor. But he doesn’t show any of this…instead he takes his words back. He then assures her that God will hear her prayer and grant her request, and Hannah goes away, she eats again, she drinks again, and, most importantly, her “countenance was sad no longer.”
Hannah has now talked to God silently, and to Eli out loud, and now she has all kinds of self-esteem growing in her. God remembers her at long last, and she has a baby. While the boy is still unweaned, it’s time for the yearly trip to Shiloh. The whole family is going, but Hannah speaks to her husband for the first time in this whole story and says, “no, I’m not going. I’ll come later, and guess what? I have to leave the boy there.” Not only has Hannah found her voice, but she’s found her willpower and her spunk, too!
Now, at this point, you would expect that Elkanah would say, “umm, excuse me, but technically, according to socio-political family system rules of our age, that child is mine and I get to make the decisions. I already let you choose his silly name….what do you mean you’re going to leave a boy, someone who could be really useful on the farm, at the temple? I don’t think so, and if you do I’ll get rid of you AND bring the boy home.” But he doesn’t. Instead he says, “do what seems good to you. May the LORD establish his word.” Umm…this isn’t exactly normal. Men of this time period are supposed to be in charge. Men of this time period are the heads of households and the women are property, not the decision makers. Men are strong and women follow. But apparently not in this case, for Elkanah, the one who only a year ago asked “am I not more to you than ten sons,” finally understands Hannah, and what she needs. So, Elkanah and the whole family pile into the minivan and leave, and Hannah and Samuel stay behind.
Once the two of them do go up to Shiloh, Hannah sees Eli and rushes over to him to tell him the news… “I was the one here a year ago, and this was what I prayed for (she says, pointing at the child in her arms), and look, I got it! So now I’m giving him to the LORD, which means you get to take care of him here. Have fun, and be nice to him, and may he be God’s servant forever. Bye!” Is this really the woman whose lips were moving but whose voice was silent just one year ago? What happened? Her newfound voice is startling and amazing. Well, she did have the baby she asked for. And not only that, but this baby is not just like any other baby. This child is Samuel, who will become one of Israel’s greatest prophets, the prophet who speaks directly with God and anoints kings. God has not only given Hannah a child, but has placed her in the line of Israel’s matriarchs. She is essential to Israel’s life and continued story. She is God’s chosen one, who brings a bearer of God’s message into the world.
And so she goes into the temple and prays. Last time Hannah was fervent but silent. Now she still prays fervently, but she prays to God out loud, she praises in a loud voice, and she goes on for quite some time. The song she sings as her prayer is remarkably similar to a psalm that is used at the time of the Passover festival, and extols God for God’s amazing power and justice. God has lifted up the lowly and brought down the mighty….God has lifted up Hannah from her despair and depression, and has thwarted the insults and abuse of Peninnah, society, and the priest. God has opened Hannah’s eyes to her full humanity—and now (in the eyes of the world) Hannah is as worthy as any other woman. There is no ground for the community’s view of her any longer, and that has turned the world on its head….God is the only Rock, and God is the one who gives, and God is the one who judges, for the whole earth, and indeed the pillars on which the earth rests, are Gods. Peninnah doesn’t have anyone to make fun of anymore…indeed Hannah nearly addresses her directly: “talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth….” Because no longer is Peninnah able to consider herself better than Hannah. No longer is Hannah the utter bottom of the food chain in the family, a non-person. The society has no more mean names to call Hannah. Eli can’t say she’s a worthless drunken woman anymore. God has made her aware of her wholeness. She is not only a mother, but the mother of a prophet, and thus a crucial character in Israel’s story. No wonder, thousands of years later, Mary used the same words to praise the God who made her a central figure in the same story. And now not only is Hannah lifted up, but Hannah’s voice is lifted up. In the beginning of the story, she was silent, but now she raises her voice for the heavens and the earth to hear—she speaks up at long last. And she uses her voice to say “this child isn’t what’s important—and I’m going to give the boy back to God, who is The Holy One who breaks molds, does new things, and reverses injustice in the world.”
It seems that Hannah’s is an early story of women’s rights, of women’s voices and authority in the home and out of it too. This is a story voiceless women, and indeed all people, can plug in to, a part of the story of God’s community that we can all find our voices in.
Some of you may be wondering “how can I find my voice in a story about a woman who can’t have children?” Our society today doesn’t place such a strong emphasis on children as anyone’s only path to worthiness, thankfully. Hannah’s story is not just about the child, though. It’s also about judgment and worth. Yes, the ancient community judged women by their child-bearing ability. Later, the medieval community judged people on their piety. And now our modern community often judges us on our education, our car, the church we belong to, the clothes we wear. We, like Hannah, may not be able to find our own voices to speak up against these judgments. But, also like Hannah, God shows us our full humanity, and opens our eyes to our worth as God’s children. Our worthiness lies, not in the expectations of society, but in our identity as God’s beloved, God’s chosen people. And so, like Hannah, we must raise our voices for earth and heaven to hear, speaking up for ourselves and others, and exulting in the Holy One, beside whom there is no other.

dead

it's dead. sadness. things like engine blocks should not be cracked.

just an fyi.

oy oy oy oy oy

car is at car doctor. car may be going to car graveyard. sadness.

i'm preaching this weekend, and leading a discussion (for young adults) on presbyterian history, polity, and acronyms before worship, and leading a youth program on women in the bible and the church in the evening. oy. how did i get into this?

must go make bulletin.
ttfn.

duh

church = good.
car nearly overheating = bad.
the coolant was empty = bad
smoke spewing into the atmosphere from my car = bad
new coolant and water now in car = good. hopefully.

and there's still homework to be done. OY. long weeks are always too short.

a long week ahead

so much homework, so little time.

but at least my amazon package came.

i'm hungry now.
it's sunny outside.
i need to be at church thinking about a mission trip.
tomorrow is the second hour of 24. i think it might be a good year. day? whatever.

must go. very busy. back eventually. ta.

Junior High Retreats are like the Discovery Channel

According to my friend Jonathan...

because, you see, there are all these kids, aged approximately 11.5 to 14, in a small confined area. They will either: a)try to hook up (mate), or b) kill each other. It's like watching the Discovery Channel, only with kids. For 25 continuous hours.

In the case of my kids, we had two near hook-ups, saved by friends (because they were clearly bad: one boy got nicknamed the "sketchyfrenic boy"). No deaths, so far. Thankfully. I don't really know how I would have told the parents when we got back.

News from the land of middle school:

*Jesus is the potato of life. (after talking about Jesus being in the bread from lunch, one girl said he was in the tater tots...then had to be told that they were potato, and proceeded to make up a theory about Jesus being like a potato...)
*Sketchy, like what you do in art. As in shady. As in Eminem.
*"my arm hurts" "well, leave it alone, yo." "i am, I'm just picking at it" (RE: a rugburn)
*plural of "yo" is "yos"
*scorpions in the bathroom are bad.
*when there is a bird in the cabin, you should not shut the door in an attempt to get it out. It will only poo on your bed. (this happened to an 8th grader...)
*campfires that turn into bonfires are bad. the leaders thought we were going to catch the big cross on fire. Instead we only woke up bees and had about 5 kids get stung....
*the point of a keynote is NOT to talk about yourself. Just an FYI.
*God is not fun. Or fun is not God. It's not really clear which. (this was an irritating thing, fyi)
*it's supposed to take about an hour, or just over an hour, to get to the retreat center from the church. it took me about 40 minutes. hmmmm.......
*Arby's curly fries are the best.

The end. for now. :-)

my favorite things to see at Six Flags

people in costumes.
people making out in line.
people waiting in lines, trying to figure out how the whole party can ride together, then getting confused, and not riding at all.
really short lines. (this almost never happens)
people in All-American shirts that were probably made in Taiwan, Indonesia, Mexico, Colombia, Uzbekistan, etc.
people with cool hair.