... and his really worthwhile new book, Fall to Grace: A Revolution of God, Self and Society.
Read all about it here!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sermon's Up! Featuring Jay Bakker...
... and his really worthwhile new book, Fall to Grace: A Revolution of God, Self and Society.
Read all about it here!
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Coming Out. Again. And Again. And Again.
Petra and Beloved and I watched "Groundhog Day" tonight. You know the film. Bill Murray plays a not-so-nice weatherman from Pittsburgh who gets sent to cover Groundhog Day in Punxatawny, PA, with his producer (Andie MacDowell) and cameraman (Chris Elliott). At the end of a long and terrible day, during which just about everything that could possibly go wrong does, he wakes up to find out he is re-living the same day over. And then it happens again. And again.
The movie goes on to follow the many ways he tries to cope with and/ or game his situation. Everything from deciding he can do whatever he wants with no consequences, to trying to get the beautiful producer into bed, to trying to kill himself, and more. It is wonderful and painful and quite funny. And, in the end, he learns some things about himself.
Well, I sometimes feel that coming out is a little like Groundhog Day. It has been for me, anyway. I officially came out twenty-one months ago (you can read the story here, in the archive for that month. Start at the bottom of the page and scroll up). And... at that time, it was fully my intention that everybody in the world, personally and professionally, would know, from that point on, that I am a minister in a committed relationship with another woman. A lesbian. That was the plan.
Well, the way the wheels of bureaucracy worked in my denomination, it didn't end up being quite as public as all that. So, I found myself needing to come out to people over and over. First I told my congregation. Then my regional governing body. Then I told various colleagues, who asked me questions about why certain things were going on in my congregation.
After a while, I got kind of tired of it. If I have to tell one more person, I thought, I will tear my hair out. And then I can be a bald lesbian minister. So I just floated along.
As a result, I don't really know who knows at this point. Occasionally I tell someone. For example. I met with a couple not long ago who would like to join the congregation. At the end of our meeting, I said, "Well, there's just one more thing. In the name of full disclosure." And, pulse racing, I told them. Whereupon they shrugged, and said, "Oh we know that." And I laughed a little too hysterically.
Next Saturday my regional body is voting on changes to the constitution of our church. One of that changes, something we vote on every two years (like clockwork), is removal of the anti-LGBTQ language from our Book of Order. We will be seeking to replace this:
“Those who are called to office in the church are to lead a life in obedience to Scripture and in conformity to the historic confessional standards of the church. Among these standards is the requirement to live either in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman (W-4.9001), or chastity in singleness. Persons refusing to repent of any self-acknowledged practice which the confessions call sin shall not be ordained and/or installed as deacons, elders or ministers of the Word and Sacrament.”
with this:
Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000). The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation (G.14.0240; G-14.0450) shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation (W-4.4003). Governing bodies shall be guided by Scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.”
Never mind the alphabet soup (if it has a W it's from the Directory of Worship; if it has a G it's from the Form of Government). The point is, the amendment upon which we will vote-- and upon which the entire church has been voting-- is far superior theologically, a return to the historic practice of the church, and just plain good sense.
So naturally it is being fought tooth and nail. So much so, that a large group of (all-male) so-called "tall steeple" pastors have issued a letter complaining that the church is deathly ill. It appears to be an attempt to distract from what is happening: we are voting on something to end discrimination against a whole class of people and to restore the church's good name.
(Here's a very entertaining blogpost about the letter from my buddy John Shuck. Tell us how you really feel, John!)
So here's my issue. I'm thinking, I probably have to come out, again, next week. I probably need to stand in front of my presbytery and say, "Hi. I'm gay. My church knows all about it, and they have decided to keep me. So far, we are doing just fine. Let's just get on with the business of doing ministry. OK?"
OK campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties, 'cause it's cooooooold out there today!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Saint Brigid: Lesbian Icon?
I love the blogging world. Where else might I have found this treasure?
Raised by Druids, Brigid seems to have made a smooth transition from being a pagan priestess to a Christian abbess. Today she is Ireland’s most famous female saint. Legend says that when she made her final vows as a nun, the bishop in charge was so overcome by the Holy Spirit that he administered the rite for ordaining a (male) bishop instead.
A younger nun named Darlughdach served as Brigid’s ambassador and her “anam cara” or soul friend. The two women were so close that they slept in the same bed. Like many Celtic saints, Brigid believed that each person needs a soul friend to discover together that God speaks most powerfully in the seemingly mundane details of shared daily life. The love between these two women speaks to today’s lesbians and their allies. Some say that Brigid and Darlughdach are lesbian saints...
Read the whole thing here. And many thanks to Madpriest for the tip!
Image by Robert Lentz, OFM, c. 1999.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Sermon's Up
I struggled this week to respond to last week's shootings in Tucson.
Believe me, I pretty quickly passed judgment on what had happened and why. But I kept reading and reading all week-- all the coverage and commentary I could get my hands on. I read this on Thursday, a statistical analysis of where one is most likely to be shot in the United States-- very interesting, I highly recommend it. I also read this, a Jewish scholar responding to the phrase "blood libel." I started writing Friday, and finished this morning. This was my response, for better or for worse: a sermon on Isaiah 49:1-7.
Believe me, I pretty quickly passed judgment on what had happened and why. But I kept reading and reading all week-- all the coverage and commentary I could get my hands on. I read this on Thursday, a statistical analysis of where one is most likely to be shot in the United States-- very interesting, I highly recommend it. I also read this, a Jewish scholar responding to the phrase "blood libel." I started writing Friday, and finished this morning. This was my response, for better or for worse: a sermon on Isaiah 49:1-7.
Stars of January (So Far)
(Not so interested in "bullets" at present.)
I am gazing at my Christmas tree. I'm having another of those "years of not letting go," in the Christmas department. I said to Beloved not too long ago, "I just love my tree this year." She answered, "You always love your tree." You know, I think she's right. I always love my tree. I think this is the result of not having one, ages 8 through 16 and 18 through 20. Ever since I was first married (age 21) I've had a tree, and it has delighted me beyond all rationality.
And, aside from the Christian meaning of Christmas-- which, for me, is Incarnation, the astounding notion that God does not leave us alone on these dark shores but shows up and lights a candle for us-- there is the pre-Christian, still applicable celebration of the lightening of the days after the darkest and longest night, which we celebrate with lights, and, darn it, I'm still celebrating. It's still dark and cold out there.
Still, there are things happening other than my holding on to my Douglas Fir.
* Petra finished her college applications. The angels wept tears of joy and relief. I'm pretty sure.
* Petra also completed her first college audition at Big City U, in the aftermath of a big snowstorm. We drove towards the storm last Tuesday night but arrived there before the snow fell. (Evidently, it fell throughout the night and cleared off before daybreak). She auditioned Wednesday, and felt good about it. It was a remarkable privilege to be there with her, and to remember accompanying Larry on auditions five (!) years ago.
* The leadership from my church participated in a presbytery-wide day of learning, as we have the past three years, and, as usual, came away energized and refreshed for our work together. And I once again said, God, you are so cool. You put me here. With these fantastic people.
That said, there are little issues here and there at work. I still feel an energy about my work. But I do believe the congregation has relaxed a bit. Maybe a bit too much. I'm starting to feel that some entropy has set in, and that makes it harder to move forward programatically. But I still leave every Sunday grateful for our worship together, and that's the key-- the cornerstone. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
* Beloved and I had really lovely weekend together, in which nothing much happened except enjoying one another's company (and some good movies). But it was rich beyond description. Last night, after one of said movies, we huddled together on the floor under a blanket, in front of the fire, and talked about some hard things. (Stuff going on in my family.) Her love and kindness sustain me in ways I can't even fathom.
That's all for now. I'll try to be a better correspondent. Stay warm. Listen to this, and look at the scenes from my hometown (the outdoor shots, all from 'round these parts).
I am gazing at my Christmas tree. I'm having another of those "years of not letting go," in the Christmas department. I said to Beloved not too long ago, "I just love my tree this year." She answered, "You always love your tree." You know, I think she's right. I always love my tree. I think this is the result of not having one, ages 8 through 16 and 18 through 20. Ever since I was first married (age 21) I've had a tree, and it has delighted me beyond all rationality.
And, aside from the Christian meaning of Christmas-- which, for me, is Incarnation, the astounding notion that God does not leave us alone on these dark shores but shows up and lights a candle for us-- there is the pre-Christian, still applicable celebration of the lightening of the days after the darkest and longest night, which we celebrate with lights, and, darn it, I'm still celebrating. It's still dark and cold out there.
Still, there are things happening other than my holding on to my Douglas Fir.
* Petra finished her college applications. The angels wept tears of joy and relief. I'm pretty sure.
* Petra also completed her first college audition at Big City U, in the aftermath of a big snowstorm. We drove towards the storm last Tuesday night but arrived there before the snow fell. (Evidently, it fell throughout the night and cleared off before daybreak). She auditioned Wednesday, and felt good about it. It was a remarkable privilege to be there with her, and to remember accompanying Larry on auditions five (!) years ago.
* The leadership from my church participated in a presbytery-wide day of learning, as we have the past three years, and, as usual, came away energized and refreshed for our work together. And I once again said, God, you are so cool. You put me here. With these fantastic people.
That said, there are little issues here and there at work. I still feel an energy about my work. But I do believe the congregation has relaxed a bit. Maybe a bit too much. I'm starting to feel that some entropy has set in, and that makes it harder to move forward programatically. But I still leave every Sunday grateful for our worship together, and that's the key-- the cornerstone. All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
* Beloved and I had really lovely weekend together, in which nothing much happened except enjoying one another's company (and some good movies). But it was rich beyond description. Last night, after one of said movies, we huddled together on the floor under a blanket, in front of the fire, and talked about some hard things. (Stuff going on in my family.) Her love and kindness sustain me in ways I can't even fathom.
That's all for now. I'll try to be a better correspondent. Stay warm. Listen to this, and look at the scenes from my hometown (the outdoor shots, all from 'round these parts).
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
2011 Hello!
I have exactly fifteen minutes to write this post, before I must leave for a meeting.
I'm reminding myself of my friend Stacy, who blogged about this busy-ness thing here. There is a way in which it's tempting to measure ourselves by how busy we are.
I know I've been thinking about this a lot as 2010 turned to 2011. There are a lot of things to do at church (surprise!), and in a way, at the end of those weeks in which I work more than the prescribed 48 hours, I feel smugly self-justified. Justification by works, baby! As if, NOW everything's going to be ok. You'll see!
But that's not how it works at church, I find. Church is about connection-- people connecting to God and to one another, and through the strength gained in those connections, making more connections, to the hungry, the thirsty, the homeless, the imprisoned-- you know the ones. And relationships, connections, are not things that happen because we put in the hours being busy. They're things that happen because we resist the temptation to scurry around and decide to be willing to linger, to listen, to ask another question, to laugh, to make some coffee, to put off the administrivia.
Problem is, the administrivia isn't going anywhere, is it?
I've noticed something about my work. I feel sure I've mentioned this before. Home visits are something I love to do-- when I'm doing them. When I feel the pressure of creating the bulletin, studying for the sermon, writing the sermon, submitting my mileage, organizing the event, etc etc, home visits feel like the last thing I should be spending my time on. But then I go.
Yesterday I sat down with a beautiful elderly gentleman. The first words out of this mouth? "What is the soul?" And we were off on a wide-ranging conversation the likes of which often cease after they give you the paper with the M. Div. on it. Moments like that, and I am mentally down on my knees saying a little prayer of thanks that I get to do this for a living. How lucky can you get?
The internet is filled with lists pertaining to the turn of the calendar from 2010 to 2011-- top ten movies (read the hilarious conversation over at Slate-- you know you want to), most memorable news stories, people who died, and, of course, resolutions.
Used to be I had one New Year's Resolution every year: lose weight. Since 2008 I've been embarked on a healthy program that makes that resolution feel unnecessary--it's happening, I'm getting healthier, I'm doing it, thanks be to God. But I have so many more things to think about than my avoirdupois. Like-- my soul. My relationships. My call. My family.
So, I'm going to copy my dear friend Martha and say I think I'll make one resolution that will positively impact all the others-- I know it will, because it always does. I'm going to put prayer at the front end of my day, every day. Meditation, quiet time, time to connect-- the Big Connection. When I do, all those other things fall into place. All those other connections happen more organically. I am held in a great reality that requires my acknowledgement. That's my resolution. That's my plan.
Happy New Year everybody.
I'm reminding myself of my friend Stacy, who blogged about this busy-ness thing here. There is a way in which it's tempting to measure ourselves by how busy we are.
I know I've been thinking about this a lot as 2010 turned to 2011. There are a lot of things to do at church (surprise!), and in a way, at the end of those weeks in which I work more than the prescribed 48 hours, I feel smugly self-justified. Justification by works, baby! As if, NOW everything's going to be ok. You'll see!
But that's not how it works at church, I find. Church is about connection-- people connecting to God and to one another, and through the strength gained in those connections, making more connections, to the hungry, the thirsty, the homeless, the imprisoned-- you know the ones. And relationships, connections, are not things that happen because we put in the hours being busy. They're things that happen because we resist the temptation to scurry around and decide to be willing to linger, to listen, to ask another question, to laugh, to make some coffee, to put off the administrivia.
Problem is, the administrivia isn't going anywhere, is it?
I've noticed something about my work. I feel sure I've mentioned this before. Home visits are something I love to do-- when I'm doing them. When I feel the pressure of creating the bulletin, studying for the sermon, writing the sermon, submitting my mileage, organizing the event, etc etc, home visits feel like the last thing I should be spending my time on. But then I go.
Yesterday I sat down with a beautiful elderly gentleman. The first words out of this mouth? "What is the soul?" And we were off on a wide-ranging conversation the likes of which often cease after they give you the paper with the M. Div. on it. Moments like that, and I am mentally down on my knees saying a little prayer of thanks that I get to do this for a living. How lucky can you get?
The internet is filled with lists pertaining to the turn of the calendar from 2010 to 2011-- top ten movies (read the hilarious conversation over at Slate-- you know you want to), most memorable news stories, people who died, and, of course, resolutions.
Used to be I had one New Year's Resolution every year: lose weight. Since 2008 I've been embarked on a healthy program that makes that resolution feel unnecessary--it's happening, I'm getting healthier, I'm doing it, thanks be to God. But I have so many more things to think about than my avoirdupois. Like-- my soul. My relationships. My call. My family.
So, I'm going to copy my dear friend Martha and say I think I'll make one resolution that will positively impact all the others-- I know it will, because it always does. I'm going to put prayer at the front end of my day, every day. Meditation, quiet time, time to connect-- the Big Connection. When I do, all those other things fall into place. All those other connections happen more organically. I am held in a great reality that requires my acknowledgement. That's my resolution. That's my plan.
Happy New Year everybody.
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