On Death

My favorite poet, Wistawa Symborska died last week. This was the day before my god daughter/niece and nephew's babysitter died. This was a week after my grandmother died. And that was the same week a colleague in ministry died. I've had a bit too much death on my plate for the time.

Symborska's poem (translated into English from Polish by Stanislav Baranczak and Clare Cavanaugh) about death says it more beautifully than I can at the moment.

On Death, Without Exaggeration

It can't take a joke,
find a star, make a bridge.
It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming,
building ships, or baking cakes.

In our planning for tomorrow,
it has the final word,
which is always beside the point.

It can't even get the things done
that are part of its trade:
dig a grave,
make a coffin,
clean up after itself.

Preoccupied with killing,
it does the job awkwardly,
without system or skill.
As though each of us were its first kill.

Oh, it has its triumphs,
but look at its countless defeats,
missed blows,
and repeat attempts!

Sometimes it isn't strong enough
to swat a fly from the air.
Many are the caterpillars
that have outcrawled it.

All those bulbs, pods,
tentacles, fins, tracheae,
nuptial plumage, and winter fur
show that it has fallen behind
with its halfhearted work.

Ill will won't help
and even our lending a hand with wards and coups d'etat
is so far not enough.

Hearts beat inside eggs.
Babies' skeletons grow.
Seeds, hard at work, sprout their first tiny pair of leaves
and sometimes even tall trees far away.

Whoever claims that it's omnipotent
is himself living proof
that it's not.

There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment.

Death
always arrives by that very moment too late.

In vain it tugs at the knob
of the invisible door.
As far as you've come
can't be undone.

Copyright 1998 by Harcourt, Inc.

Trees and Things

"Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams."


Most years I grow weary of close minded people griping about X-Mas, Happy Holidays, and so on. This year, however, there's been a strong response about Christ being in the midst of these.

My favorite, has been about Christmas trees. My atheist or agnostic friends are quick to point out to me that Christmas trees are not Christian. I enjoy the moment when they are shocked at my agreeing with them. Christmas trees were not present at the birth of Christ (nor were whales, octopi, or lobsters, but I love that scene in Love, Actually). And I'm okay with it. And I'd cry if there were no tree up in my mom's house this Christmas.

Why the tie? What's the point of putting up a tree, more capable it would seem of celebrating winter solstice than Christ?

For me, it has to do with that line in "I'll be home for Christmas" and a God who promises to shine in our darkness. Last year, all alone in Montana, I had a tiny little tree with one strand of lights. It didn't feel like home. The one time I felt like I was home was sitting in the church at night, with only the grand Christmas tree lit up. That glow, that "love-light" is Emmanuel, God with us. That glow is home. That glow is love.

Besides, Christ hung on a tree for us. That speaks some profound love that no darkness can conquer.

(Photo by Eric Renshaw. Taken at Opryland Hotel, where I go every year to see this tree and all the decor.)

Theology Paper

Cranky

I would love to tell you that being in ministry means that no one is jerk, no one takes advantage of others, and everything is hymn singing and harmonies. But I'd be lying.

It's the end of the semester. A long but fast semester as it turns out. I'm still two papers away from the end of this semester (graduation in May...) and I've got little energy to put towards those papers, much less anything else.

But then something comes up and I find myself absolutely hating someone. I'm being vague intentionally and I'm sorry that I have to be. But it doesn't really matter as the issue is not the person,  but the hate.

I'm not one to hate. I just don't. I find that I go back to anyone I have issues with and we resolve them, even if we can never return to the level of trust and intimacy we had previously. I don't like burning bridges, etc. I'm friends (in some sense of the word) with all of my exes and two good friends who really hurt me.

What do you do when the issues can't be resolved? When you've made the effort again and again (and again) to figure out how to be in relationship with a person and you keep getting walked on? I'm at a loss.

And yet, as a soon-to-be-pastor, I feel as if I should be moving towards forgiving. I should let grace abound and get over it. I should move on. What's that whole thing about forgiveness being for the person forgiving, not the one being forgiving? Don't hold on to hate. Etc., etc..

Perhaps it is too soon. Perhaps I'm just up to my ears in emotion and need to give myself a few years to cool off....

Haircuts, Glasses, Coats

Funny how when you change the outside, you sometimes feel better on the inside.

Chopped off my hair this weekend, got a new pair of glasses with an update prescript, and got a new winter coat (mega on sale which makes it better). I feel good.

And yet...

As All Saints Day is coming up, I remember those who have died. I remember those who are dying. I've been grieving for the upcoming death of my good friend from high school and church, Carrie, who has been struggling with an aggressive cancer. Pray for peace as she is surrounded by the love of family in these final days.

In the now immortal words of my seminary colleages, FUCK CANCER. My new hair, new glasses, new coat... do nothing to stop the onslaught of disease in our bodies or in the world. Though I do find some comfort in them, I struggle with the balance. Haircuts and glasses and warm coats are necessary, yes. Perhaps this is guilt? Guilt that I am alive to enjoy and need haircuts, glasses, and coats.

Happy All Saints day soon. I'm celebrating with a new haircut, new glasses, and a new winter coat.

Cherch

 

http://tasteandseelstc.blogspot.com/2011/10/cherch.html

The Church and Being Pissed Off

I'm pissed off. I really, truly am.

You see, two years ago, my church body made a decision. And now no one seems to be standing behind that decision.

I'm not trying to be vague. The ELCA voted to ordain gay and lesbian clergy who were in committed relationships. In the in between time, many individual churches have left the ELCA. I get that some people believe homosexuality is a sin. Scripture does not convince me of that, however. I fully support my GLBTQ brothers and sisters. I am a proud ally.

And recently, two dear friends have been rejected because of their sexuality. They're young and have amazing skills for ministry and a passion for what this church could be. And yet, they aren't allowed to do ministry. People seemed to be scared. Fear is stopping people from calling my dear friends to be leaders in this church.

I'm pissed off. I really, truly am.

It's time to take a stand.

Deadlines

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by. 

Douglas Adams

1. Last Thursday, my Approval Essay was due. I turned it in Friday at 4. Only the recipient's mail box was full. So I tried to e-mail it to a second person via my cell phone. On Monday, I get a tap on the shoulder after chapel. Wanna turn that in? Oh, I sent it already. Nope, you didn't. Okay, sorry, I'll resend it.

On Tuesday, I find that neither the first, nor the second email got sent from my phone. This increases my hate for my phone. I now have upset the person trying to get this (now very late) paper. I e-mail it from my laptop. Success.

2. I also needed to turn in my project evaluation from internship. I keep forgetting. The recipient keeps asking. I keep forgetting when I am near my computer. I email it from my computer during one of my classes on Wednesday.

3. I was one of the brilliant people who decided to present an exegesis paper in my Gospel of John class on the third week of class (God bless those who went the second week). That's basically a biblical research paper. This was due Tuesday at noon. I sent it in at 11:59. Then my roommate graciously printed the papers and walked them to the professors while I went back to babysitting.

4. For my Monday afternoon class, I neglected to get the reading done (see #3). And I completely forgot that there is a reflection due on our reading at the start of each class. I have yet to email this in.

5. Monday evenings are also the time to turn in another reading reflection, this for a class that meets on Thursday. I never did it. See #3.

6. As I'm remembering about the reading journal for the Thursday class, I remember that I failed to email or print the paper due last Thursday. I just sent in the electronic copy. I'll hook the printer up in a bit and print that tonight. Or perhaps tomorrow...

FML.

Dream State

The world looks so different now. As if internship were a dream I had that I am now waking from, a big sleepy, a big groggy. And yet, I am changed. Not in the sense that you had a dream where something bad happened and awoke and couldn't shake it for the day... but a knowledge that I have changed. Things deep within me have been rewired. I see the world differently from when I was last here.

And here, for those who can't follow my travels (I understand, I barely can), is Chicago. Back at seminary again for a final year of academics. I return to find several faculty and staff gone and new ones arrived. I come back to two different classes of students. I come back to slightly different courtyards, hallways, stairwells, and offices. Small things have shifted that allow me to realize I've been gone a year.

I'm a True Blood fan. This you should know well. On the first episode of this season, the main character, Sookie Stackhouse, comes back home after being in fairy land (yeah, it's bizarre, don't ask) only to discover that she's been gone over a year. Her home looks different, babies have been born, her ex is king, and her brother is now a cop. Sometimes, the only way to know you've been gone is to see the changes in others.

So here, beyond the walls and objects that mark time, my friends have grown into pastor, preachers, ministers, and stronger people of faith. Listening to them speak about the places they were on internship and the people they met and ministered to and with reminds me that I too have my stories. And though that have a dream like sheen to them, my heart assures me I spent a year in Billings, Montana doing ministry.

To quote Talladega Nights, "That just happened!!!"

I'll work on believing it now.

Light shining

As I am taking in so many "last times" on internship, I am reflecting on this wonderful quote by Marianne Williamson:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.