Flowers in Florence

Venezia

Among the Knockers of Florence

Campo di’ Fiori -- plaza of flowers

Reflections of Venice

Young Woman and Fire in Roma

Sunset on the Arno from the Gold Bridge

Ciao for Now

Heading to Italy with the eldest this week to celebrate his turning 18 and graduating and heading of to Mary Wash in the fall. No blogging. No tweeting. No e-mail till after Memorial Day! Lots of Italian food, fine wine, maybe a rented Vespa, and much good time with a very good kid.

Random Thoughts on a Rainy Day

Completely random queries that came to mind on another rainy day in DC.
Why do baseball players continue to cheat on such a grand scale?
Why do athletes get so many second chances? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Why should same sex marriages undermine straight marriage?
Why has it rained for nine straight days? And when should we start building the ark?
Do actors sometimes confuse themselves for the characters they play?
Is it ever too late for justice?
Will the Caps beat the Pens?
Will the Nationals ever get better?
Will the Racistskins ever change their name?
Who will stop the rain?

Clergy Call

Spent the morning at the Human Rights Campaign's Clergy Call. Here's an AP article on the event.

By BRIAN WESTLEY, The Associated Press
2009-05-04 WASHINGTON -
The U.S. Episcopal Church's first openly gay bishop is among hundreds of clergy members urging Congress to support gay rights, including the passage of an expanded hate crimes bill that would give gay victims of violence new federal protections.
V. Gene Robinson of New Hampshire and more than 300 clergy of various faiths will spend Tuesday on Capitol Hill lobbying lawmakers to push through a bill that broadens the definition of hate crimes to include those motivated by a person's sexual orientation, gender identity and disability. The legislation was passed by the House last week.
Clergy also will push for legislation providing protections against workplace discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity.
"They're not here to grind political axes," said Harry Knox of the Human Rights Campaign, which is sponsoring the event. "They're here out of a pastoral concern for real people in their congregations who have to deal with the ramifications of hate violence and employment discrimination."
It is the second time the lobbying effort known as Clergy Call has been held on Capitol Hill; the first event was held two years ago.
This year's event comes amid significant victories for the gay-rights movement, including the recent legalization of same-sex marriage in Iowa and Vermont.
On Tuesday, the District of Columbia city council is expected to hold a final vote on legislation recognizing same-sex marriages performed elsewhere. The vote will place the issue before Congress, which has final say over the city's laws.
Robinson, who delivered the invocation during a kickoff concert at the Lincoln Memorial for President Barack Obama's inauguration, said that despite recent momentum, an uphill struggle continues for gay rights supporters in the religious community. He said that's because their message is often overshadowed by many on the religious right.
"Religion in general still presents the greatest obstacles we face in full equality," he said Monday during a speech at the Calvary Baptist Church in downtown D.C. "Ninety-five percent of the oppression that we know in our lives comes from the religious community."
Robinson's 2003 consecration has divided the Episcopal Church in the United States and abroad. Last year, theological conservatives upset by liberal views of U.S. Episcopalians and Canadian Anglicans formed a rival North American province.
Robinson said he continues to deal with threats. On Monday, he spoke of a scare earlier this year in which a man was arrested while driving with a sawed-off shotgun, a map to his home, and photographs of the bishop and his partner taken from the Internet.
Still, he spoke of the importance of clergy members who are reaching out to the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community.
"We actually are the bridge between the LGBT equality movement and those institutions which are afraid of it," he said.
Knox, the director of the Human Rights Campaign's religion and faith program, said Tuesday's daylong lobbying effort will include 325 clergy members from various denominations - including Christians, Buddhists, Jews and Muslims.

Bishop Robinson's remarks were powerful, intelligent and grounded in his own rich story, but the word that spoke most powerfully to me was a Basque saying he quoted: if no one feeds the shepherd, the shepherd will eat the sheep.
Not having had a real day off in three weeks, I decided that the best way to spend the afternoon was a wonderful Mexican lunch (quatro de Mayo?) in Chinatown with my beloved and then a long afternoon nap.
Tomorrow I'll be on the Hill speaking with my representatives about hate crimes legislation.
But first, gotta listen to Neil Young's Ohio on this, the 39th anniversary of the the Kent State shootings. The four dead in Ohio would all be about 60 years old now. I wonder what they might have accomplished had they not been murdered in the midst of exercising their constitutional right to assemble and speak out against an immoral war. Rest in peace Jeff, Sandy, Allison and Bill.

John Deer at Christian Peace Witness for Iraq

Standing in front of the White House, long-time peace activist John Deer reads a letter from Archbishop Desmond Tutu to Christian Peace Witness for Iraq.

“In the name of Jesus, Stop the War!”

From the Presbyterian Peace Fellowship:
Three hundred Christians worship and witness together, twenty arrested in an act of nonviolent direct action in front of the White House, as President Obama held his “100 Days” press conference inside.
As more than three hundred Christians worshipped together at National City Christian Church in Washington on Wednesday night, they heard a rousing call from Tony Campolo to put an end to the war in Iraq. Campolo shared the story of the fourth century Monk Telemachus who was martyred when he entered the Coliseum in Rome during the fights of the gladiators and demanded “In the name of Christ, Stop.” After he was killed, a hush fell over the crowd and the Coliseum slowly emptied. The tradition of Gladiators fighting for sport had come to an end. Campolo suggested that,similarly, Christians who take the Bible seriously must be prepared to take great personal risks as they demand, “In the name of Jesus, stop the war.”
Others were also there to inspire the crowd, who had come from all over the country to worship and witness together on the evening that marked President Obama’s first 100 days in office. Elizabeth MacAlister, Rev. Lennox Yearwood, Kathy Kelly, Sr. Diana Ortiz, Noah Baker Merrill and by video presentation, Najlaa Al-Nashi from Direct Aid Iraq all spoke strong words of criticism for the Iraq War, and implored President Obama and the U.S. Congress to bring the war to an end.
There was a light rain falling as the worshippers left the Sanctuary at National City Church and processed to Lafayette Park in front of the White House carrying candles and baskets of bread. There in the park, Rick Ufford-Chase called on all of those assembled, and on our President and Congress, to lead with apology, repentance for our actions, and a commitment to make amends to the people of Iraq for the spiral of violence unleashed by the U.S.’s “pre-emptive strike” in March of 2003. Fr. John Dear read a letter from Archbishop Desmond Tutu expressing his gratitude to Christian Peace Witness for Iraq for their continuing insistence that the war in Iraq must end.
After attempting to present a loaf of bread for President Obama, the group formed a large circle in front of the White House on Pennsylvania Avenue, and sang together for over an hour. Eventually, twenty of those standing in the “arrestable space” on the sidewalk in front of the White House were arrested and put into police vans. Eleven of those arrested, including Presbyterian Pastor Tim Simpson and his son Stephen, were released just after midnight. Nine others, including Kathy Kelly, were held over night until they saw a judge the following day.
Presbyterian Pastor Clay Thomas, Associate pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Sarasota, FL and a member of the public policy advocacy team for Christian Peace Witness for Iraq, said that the conversations that CPWI supporters had with their legislators the following morning were a significant step forward in advancing CPWI’s effort to end the war. “In fact,” said Thomas, “we were given a 90 minute meeting with representatives from the Obama Administrations National Security Council and the Public Liaison for the religious affairs office.”
“In each of those meetings with government representatives,” said Rick Ufford-Chase, former moderator of the General Assembly of the PC(USA), “CPWI’s message was that “we must see a plan that indicates how we will remove all U.S. military personal and bases from Iraq, support reconstruction of Iraqi communities devastated by the war, resettle five million Iraqis displaced by the violence, and establish a commission of inquiry regarding our nation’s use of torture. Those moves, taken in concert with one another, will send a clear message to the rest of the world that we are truly interested in the things that will make for a just peace and a lasting security for all people.”

Brothers Frantzich Singing at the White House

A great cloud of witnesses singing in support of 25 faithful followers of the Prince of Peace as they were arrested in front of the White House last night during the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq.

Christian Peace Witness for Iraq

This was the end of yesterday's sermon. It is an invitation to this week's Christian Peace Witness for Iraq.

Writing in 1962, Thomas Merton said, “the task is to work for the total abolition of war.”
Merton was right then, and he is right now. Indeed, if anything, the task is more urgent now than it was in 1962.
Merton was not naïve. He understood that the task that he named as the abolition of war involved work on multiple levels on multiple issues starting at the level of our own hearts.
He ended his great essay on the roots of war with these words:
“It is absurd to hope for a solid peace based on fictions and illusions! So instead of loving what you think is peace, love other men [and women] and love God above all. And instead of hating the people you think are warmongers, hate the appetites and the disorder in your own soul, which are the causes of war. If you love peace, then hate injustice, hate tyranny, hate greed – but hate these things in yourself, not in another.”
I have been praying for peace, marching for peace, organizing for peace, working for peace, donating for peace, witnessing for peace, singing for peace, petitioning for peace and every other act for peace I have been able to imagine since I was in high school. I have a passion for peace.
As I read Merton, I am reminded that a passion for peace, like any passion, involves suffering and death. I am further reminded that my work for peace is work for the death of injustice, tyranny and greed in my own heart.
Such heart work is done best in community. That is why I really hope that some of you can join me and hundreds of others this Wednesday evening at 7:00 at National City Christian Church as we worship and witness for peace in our own hearts and in the heart of our nation.
As Martin King said in 1967, some five years into another endless war, “Now let us begin … let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter, but beautiful, struggle for a new world. This is the calling of the [children] of God.”
Grace and love can change the world.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

Why witness now? Why go to the White House when the current occupant has pledged to end this war?
Well, to begin with, President Obama has promised an end, but actions speak louder than words and even his words, if put into action, will leave 50,000 American troops in Iraq in 18 months. Christian colleagues in Iraq remind us that real peace and security in Iraq for Iraqis will not be possible until the American occupation ends.
So we go to the White House to press the president not only to live up to his pledge to end the war, but also to end it now.
In addition, Wednesday's worship and action are a Christian peace witness FOR Iraq and for Iraqis. So we will be pressuring the White House Wednesday and lobbying Congress later to support an Iraqi-lead international effort to rebuild Iraq and care for the five million people displaced by the war.
With the economic crisis overshadowing everything (except perhaps swine flu), it is important to remind people that the occupation of Iraq is not over, that Iraqi people continue to suffer and that American lives are still being lost. Perhaps, if nothing else at all, the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq this year is a service of remembrance.

Why I Love My Church

I was at an evangelism conference last fall when someone brought up an interesting factoid: 75 percent of pastors would not worship at the church they currently serve.
I found that rather depressing, and I also thought that aside from the obvious vocational/professional/decent-and-orderly concerns I would certainly worship at the church I serve.
This weekend I am reminded of why.
I spent about six hours today helping rehab the Arlington home of a 90-year-old woman. We worked with a crew from The Falls Church Episcopal. I don't know what the church from which they splintered a few years back would have made of the Clarendon crew: four gay men, a lesbian, a straight married couple, a straight single woman, another straight man and his 18-year-old son. I don't think the homeowner cared a bit. She was just thrilled that her extremely run-down home now has a new kitchen, new floors in the living room and hallway, repaired plaster and windows, a refurbished and refloored bathroom and painted bedrooms.
Friday evening, about a dozen of us gathered at church to watch the award-winning documentary For the Bible Tells Me So. As the movie's web site says,

Through the experiences of five very normal, very Christian, very American families -- including those of former House Majority Leader Richard Gephardt and Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson -- we discover how insightful people of faith handle the realization of having a gay child. Informed by such respected voices as Bishop Desmond Tutu, Harvard's Peter Gomes, Orthodox Rabbi Steve Greenberg and Reverend Jimmy Creech, FOR THE BIBLE TELLS ME SO offers healing, clarity and understanding to anyone caught in the crosshairs of scripture and sexual identity.

It is a beautiful and powerful film, and our wonderfully diverse group thoroughly enjoyed it.
Tomorrow morning we will gather in worship in the morning, and tomorrow afternoon our spring CALL group, a life-direction lab that we conduct in cooperation with the Center for Pastoral Counseling, will hit its stride.
Praising God, learning justice, discerning call, serving the least of these -- all in one weekend. Yes, I would be part of this community even if they didn't pay me. (Not that I object to being paid, mind you!)

Seeking Light: Updated

Hold National Capital Presbytery in the light today. We meet this afternoon and evening to vote on the proposed amendment to change our Book of Order (church constitution) to remove its current implied ban (G-6.0106b) on ordaining partnered gay or lesbian church officers (deacons, elders and ministers). I anticipate that the vote here will support the change. At the same time, I also anticipate what poet (and Presbyterian) Ann Weems might call a "meeting at which very little meeting takes place." I hope that my guess on the vote is accurate but that my prediction on the tenor of the meeting is wrong.
Presbytery met, and did as good a job as possible at creating space and time for Bible study and conversation. The parliamentary part of the meeting was not crafted with as much care and some chaos ensued. In a more closely divided body I suspect there would have been considerable anger, but patience prevailed. A "no action" motion from the Bills and Overtures Committee was defeated, and the Presbytery voted 222-102 to affirm the motion to amend G-6.106b to remove the language about fidelity and chastity.
At the same time, however, the vote nationally moved a bit closer to defeat of the amendment. While more than two dozen presbyteries have switched their votes from the most recent (2001) time the issue came before them, it is all but certain that this amendment will not prevail in the necessary 87 presbyteries. No doubt, we will be voting on this again.

Blue Jean Bonus Babies

Did you see George Will's column in Thursday's Post? He used the space for a rant about blue jeans.
Among other declarations about the demon denim, he wrote, "Denim is the infantile uniform of a nation in which entertainment frequently features childlike adults ("Seinfeld," "Two and a Half Men") and cartoons for adults ("King of the Hill").
Cheryl read it and thought that surely it was sartorial satire, but the punch line was missing.
I tested Will's opinion with the three octogenarian women with whom I have lunch most Thursdays. They are mature enough not to need advice from a whippersnapper such as Will. Of course, two of them were wearing jeans to lunch.
We decided that perhaps Will has worn a tie so long that it cut off the blood flow to his brain.
Our brain-dead theory got us to thinking about the well-dressed men (and it was mostly men) who brought Wall Street tumbling down and cut deeply into the retirement savings of many of our nation's elderly. Perhaps we would be better off if the masters of the universe, who seem to worry more about bonuses and Brooks Brothers than they do about their fiduciary responsibilities with other people's money, were replaced by some good ol' boys and girls in jeans and flannel shirts.

Spirituality for Mii

I'm breathing out the deep sigh of relief that hits pastors post-Easter, and breathing in some spiritual practices for the coming 40 days.
We got Cheryl and Wii Fit for her birthday last week. It's a total hoot, with all kinds of silly games that, if you follow the instructions, actually give you a good workout. The games include some yoga movements -- most of which cannot actually be done in our basement without crashing fingers into the ceiling. But the ones that can be done feel surprisingly good. I've long thought that yoga would be good for me because I am among the least flexible people ever. I suppose I make up in "closed-bodyness" for my open-mindedness! In any case, stretching and breathing deeply is a lot more invigorating than I would have guessed.
Alas, my Wii Mii is a rather squat fellow because the sweet voice of the Wii tells me that I need to loose weight. No surprise in that, but did my doppelganger have to get so rotund so quickly?
Ah, well, perhaps by Pentecost he will have slimmed down a bit.
In the meanwhile, I'm stretching body and spirit in a 40-day journey with Sister Joan Chittister. I'm following a little book that is one of Augsburg Press's 40 Day Journey With ... series.
I began this morning, and, perhaps not surprisingly, the first reading concerns the nature of spirituality. Sr. Joan writes, "Spirituality is about the hunger in the human heart. It seeks not only a way to exist, but a reason to exist that is beyond the biological or the institutional or event the traditional."
Those words leaped out at me this morning because I'd just read Michael Gerson's column in the Post, in which he responds to neuroscientist Andrew Newburg's new book, How God Changes Your Brain.
Gerson writes,

Using brain imaging studies of Franciscan nuns and Buddhist practitioners, and Sikhs and Sufis -- along with everyday people new to meditation -- Newberg asserts that traditional spiritual practices such as prayer and breath control can alter the neural connections of the brain, leading to "long-lasting states of unity, peacefulness and love."

In other words, some combination of my reflections with Sr. Joan and Wii Fit breathing my lead me to be more loving. Hm ... time will tell.
The more challenging part of Newberg's findings, as Gerson reports them, comes with the insight that the kind of God one imagines determines the part of one's brain that is strengthened through religious practice. In other words, if one imagines a God of love, the part of one's brain where empathy resides. On the other hand, if one imagines a God of wrath the part of the brain where aggression resides is strengthened.
As Gerson puts it, "The God we choose to love changes us into his image, whether he exists or not."
As for me, I'm holding fast to the God of love I know through Jesus. No other god is worthy of my time -- especially if such a god is going to get inside my head and rot my brain!

Going Dark

I know that Lent extends through Holy Week, but keeping to a devotional practice that includes time for writing through Holy Week just isn't working for me. So, who am I kidding, other than myself. I'm just going dark till after Easter. Journey well through the remains of this week and enjoy and grace-filled Easter.

Holy %@!%*!

Clearly it is almost Holy Week. It's not the calendar that tells me, but rather the busyness that makes Holy Week the least worshipful, contemplative, spiritually filling time of the year for church professionals. This will not be a blog post; it barely qualifies as a Facebook status or a tweet.
Early in Lent it was easy to keep to the commitment of a daily discipline, but when Easter and a major peace witness come so close together ... well, time runs out.
Next week will be ... better?

Should we? Can we? Will we?

Plan to join us April 29. The worship will be powerful and beautiful, as will be the witness at Lafayette Park. Please share this with your networks.

Praying With Our Feet

After the Selma march in 1965, Rabbi Abraham Heschel wrote, "For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying."
Yesterday morning at the intersection of Rt. 123 and Braddock Road, love and hate crossed paths as People of Faith for Equality Virginia stood in peaceful vigil while the hate-filled folks from Westboro Baptist showered the morning rush hour traffic with their message that "God hates America" and "God hates fags" and, well, God hates just about everything that they don't like.
I was asked by a reporter what I thought about their Biblical interpretation. I said, "we interpret scripture according to the rule of love, but they seemed to have missed that part." Indeed, yesterday morning, "God is love" was more than enough theology for the day.
We were praying with our feet, as we stood in the blustery cold alongside George Mason students whose Pride coalition had invited us to join them.
I had a brief conversation with one of the kids, Carl -- or Carly, as this transvestite-for-a-day-of-solidarity introduced herself. Carly spoke of growing up in the Roman Catholic church and leaving it behind because the church has so little tolerance for so many friends.
I thought about Carly reading the prayer invitation for today, which includes Jesus sending forth his disciples and telling them that where they are not received and the good news not welcomed to shake the dust of such towns off their feet and move on.
I wonder if much of the church hasn't become those dusty towns whose exclusive orthodoxies are being shaken off and left behind by an entire generation.
Yesterday I prayed with my feet. Today I will pray for Carl and his friends, but I'll pray even more fervently for the church that we might hear in the voice of Carl and Carly a generation longing to hear good news. And, I'll pray for the Westboro Baptist people -- children of the same loving God -- that they might feel that love even in their hardened hearts.
Indeed, seeing the young people of Westboro (and their tiny band included several teenagers) was incredibly sad. To be raised in the context of so much hate and narrow-mindedness is tragic.
I often leave public demonstrations renewed and refreshed. They feed my soul and are, for me, deeply spiritual times of prayer. Yesterday, though, seeing the kids of Westboro, was soul searing.
Monday being my day off, I went home and spent a few hours watching Milk, which I'd not yet seen.
It is a film of deep and beautiful hope. Though the tragedy of his murder and the sadness of a life cut short on the cusp of dramatic cultural shifts deepened my funk for a while yesterday, I am rejoicing today that Rt. 123 and Braddock Rd. was, for a brief while in the early hours of Monday morning, the intersection of love and hope.

Pray Without Ceasing

The invitations of the past two days seemed quite similar to one another, to me. They seemed to say to me, in Paul's words, "pray without ceasing."
One of my favorite simple praise songs is Lord I Offer You This Day. It is not great art, but I find it meditative to play and sing. I also find the message to be a powerful prayer. Lord, I offer you this day. Make this day my prayer. I have been given this time. I return it as gratitude.
Or, perhaps, as Rabbi Heschel said when asked if he shouldn't rather be praying than marching with Dr. King, "our feet were praying."
So today was a prayer. It began with scurrying around to get kids to school, then some catching up on e-mail and the news.
Then I spent two hours on the phone with colleagues across the country working to frame next month's Christian Peace Witness for Iraq. I honestly believe that when the history of the war in Iraq is written, the chapters on the peace movement will be drawn to the unique, worshipful witness of CPWI. Our work, including the sometimes interminable planning work, is prayer.
Then I biked up to church to finish work for Sunday's worship, to gather some wedding materials for a couple of women I'll help hitch next month, to put together some information about CALL and discernment, fix our church web site, and to help my colleagues as People of Faith for Equality Virginia plan a faithful response to the hate-filled presence next week of people from Westboro Baptist "church" next week at George Mason University.
Through all of this work, I felt grounded in prayer. Then I rode home, poured a glass of red wine, and sat on the front porch watching neighborhood kids play and listening to the birds. Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, indeed.

Honor and Glory .... and Peace

Over the years, I have noticed that when I am committed -- for whatever period -- to a reflective discipline -- whatever form it takes -- the invitations of the discipline will regularly address something that just happens in the day.
Today we are invited to read Philippians 4:4-7 ("Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.") The invitation continues: "What are you afraid of? Make a list. ..."
We live in fearful times. Headlines in the Post today reflect the global economic crisis and the war on terror.
Not in those headlines, but also reflective of fearfulness, the hate-filled people of the Westboro Baptist "church" will be in neighboring Fairfax next week, and I spent several hours yesterday and a few more today huddled with the Northern Virginia board of People of Faith for Equality Virginia developing plans for a peaceful presence to counter their message of hate with one of love.
After all, perfect love casts out all fear.
My attention was drawn away from all this midday as I took on the role of dutiful child to attend the funeral of the husband of one of my mother's roommates from her college years. Mom asked me to represent the family, and so I did.
I never met the man remembered today. He was an Air Force colonel who was buried with full honors at Arlington National Cemetery following a service in the old chapel at Ft. Myer. It was quite the spectacle: the Air Force hymn, a full honor guard, brass band, horse-drawn caisson, 21-gun salute, taps on the bugle, Amazing Grace on bagpipes with a piper in full regalia for a son of the old sod.
My eldest is reading Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, and shared a passage with me. Hemingway's narrator, the ambulance driver Lt. Henry, reflects on words "slapped up by billposters over other proclamations" and says of them:

"Abstract words such as glory, honor, courage, or hallow were obscene beside the concrete names of villages, the numbers of roads, the names of rivers, the numbers of regiments and the dates."

Every time I visit Arlington National -- and all the more so with the pomp and circumstance of an officer's funeral -- I am struck by the homage paid to glory, honor and courage, and by the extent to which the site produces its own mythology.
The chapel serves to sacralize that mythology, and its stained glass windows -- created by the same studios that made the ones at Clarendon -- tell stories of military triumph on a Biblical scale, literally.
There is no space there for gentleness. There is no space there for peace.
My friend Art Laffin, a Catholic Worker in DC, speaking this week on the 29th anniversary of the assassination of archbishop Oscar Romero, paraphrased words that Romero spoke in a homily the day before his murder. Romero aimed his words at national guard troops who were "disappearing" Romero's people. Art updated Romero every so slightly:
"Brothers and sisters, you belong to God's global family, the human family. You kill and torture your own bothers and sisters. In the face of an order to kill and torture that is given by a man, the law of God prevails that says: 'Love one another' and 'do not kill.' No one is obliged to obey an order counter to the law of God. No one has to comply with an immoral law. It is time now that you recover your conscience and obey its dictates rather than the command of sin. Therefore, in the name of the victims of war, torture and military occupation, in the name of God: 'Cease the warmaking, cease the torture, cease the killing, cease the repression!'"
The language of Romero and that of Laffin -- faithful Catholics -- has no place amidst the language of honor, glory and courage. Which is sad and, come to think of it, a bit odd: after all, what could take more courage than standing up nonviolently to the Central American violence of the mid-1980s? What could be more honorable than giving one's life for others? What could glorify God more than such a faithful witness?
Art Laffin's remarks ended with this prayer. It is my prayer for this day:
Let us pray and work for an immediate end to US warmaking and occupation in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Let us pray and work for the immediate closing of Guantanamo where some 45 prisoners are presently on a hunger-strike, 25 of whom are on a critical list.
Let us pray and work for the immediate closing of Bagram US Air Base in Afghanistan where over 600 prisoners are being held without any rights and subject to brutal treatment and coercive interrogation.
Let us pray and work for an end to all US military intervention everywhere.
Let us pray and work for an end to US military assistance and training to countries that repress and kill, including Israel and Colombia.
Let us pray and work for the immediate disarmament and abolition of all nuclear weapons and every other kind of weapon, on earth and in space.
Let us pray and work for the creation of the Beloved Community, where all life and creation is revered as sacred.

Weighty Matters

Engaging in a spiritual discipline or practice for a season ought to bring with it some deeper awareness -- of self and of God. Perhaps that is being so for me this Lent, though I'm far from certain.
On the other hand, going to the doctor and standing on the well-calibrated scale absolutely brings about some certainty and awareness. In this case, awareness that I have been eating too much and exercising too little.
Oh, to be sure, I was dimly aware of this but it is easy to lie to one's self about such things even when you employ a house-hold scale as a truth-telling device. They are far too easy to recalibrate or to pretend about.
Why this reflection today, other than the obvious doctor's appointment first thing this morning?
Today's invitation is to read Matthew 3, which includes the story of Jesus' baptism, and to recall with thanksgiving our own baptism as a moment of cleansing, forgiveness and renewal.
Like a scale, water seeks its level. In baptism, we find a level place with God, and though our lives are so often out of balance, we can return to that still place of rest and balance. Remembering that we have been there and can return empowers us to live again out of that place.
If, as we've been suggesting throughout this season, we have an embodied faith, perhaps living again out of the place is also a step toward re-balancing that which is out of balance with bodies -- whether it's diet, exercise, addiction or disease that has disturbed the equilibrium.
As with so much, it is a matter of practice, of decision, of living moment by moment, of letting go and dying to old habits and paths of destruction, and rising up to something new. It is, despite the chill in the air, springtime. Time for rising and renewing.

Every Rung Goes Higher, Higher

The invitation yesterday began with reading the wonderful story of Jacob's angelic dream (Gen. 28: 10-22). The prayer exercise was beautiful, too. But I could never add to this.

Praying for the Church

Today's invitation begins with a reading from one of the Pauline letters in which Paul describes the church at its best. We are asked to pray for the church.
This is an invitation I can embrace whole-heartedly. Indeed, sometimes I take the church directory and read through it as a prayer for the congregation at Clarendon. Other times I simply give thanks for this community and for being blessed enough to work with them as friends and colleagues in ministry.
This evening I spent an hour with five fascinating folks who will be joining the church next month. (A sixth new member, another fascinating guy, was off sailing around Antigua. Why did he not need a chaplain for that trip?!?)
Clarendon is certainly not perfect; no church is. But it is full of grace and joy and faith and passion. My prayer is one of profound gratitude.

Tony Campolo on Christian Peace Witness for Iraq 2009

I missed a blog date yesterday. Ironically, the invitation was to read Psalm 51, with its beautiful and prayerful desire to have God "create in me a clean heart." So, I suppose this would be confession and pardon time.
On the other hand, I did not post anything yesterday because when I got off a conference call at 10:00 p.m. I forgot. Truly, I was feeling spirit-filled from the phone time spent with colleagues working on the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq's April 29-30 DC public witness. It was prayerful time.
Indeed, it opened with this prayer from a New Zealand prayer book:
Eternal spirit,
Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:
The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.
With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
For you reign in the glory of the power that is love,
now and forever. Amen.
So, I suppose my prayerful reflection on Psalm 51 leads me to seek God's blessings on our efforts to create a clean heart in the midst of the nations that we might learn to beat swords into plowshares and study war no more.

goo goo goo joob goo goo goo joob goo googoooooooooooojoob

Today's invitation includes reading John 14:16-26. I added a verse before that and several at the end to complete a pericope.
It is one of the more beautiful and enigmatic passages in the New Testament, and it includes what I've always called the goo goo goo joob theology of John: "I am in my father, and you in me, and I in you" ... and I am the walrus. Or was it, "I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together"?
Despite the silliness, I do love the extended meditation on love in which this passage falls. Just a few verses earlier (13:54) Jesus says, "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have love you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."
The setting for that commandment in John is the last supper, and from that comes the tradition of Maundy (or, mandate) Thursday.
I could not begin to follow the suggestion to set aside an hour in which to ask the guidance of the spirit on every single decision. The suggestion raises a host of questions for me that lead to theological detours and cul de sacs down which I'm not interested in traveling right now.
But, Jesus' words in John do remind me that the entire point of the Jesus movement is to give every hour to love. If we are guided by love -- if we ask ourselves in every decision "what would advance the cause of love" -- then I believe we are living at one with the spirit of love, just as Jesus did. Then, well, we are all together ... goo goo goo joob.

Free to Love

Well, obviously, I missed yesterday. I knew that I'd never make 40 straight days!
Yesterday we were invited to read from 1 John, and to ask in prayer if there is someone to whom we should be extending love. The problem was, I was in such a completely foul mood that I did not even want to risk such an open prayer.
Being in a more or less public role, I am occasionally on the receiving end of shots that are really aimed elsewhere but ricochet around till I get in the way. It happens; and I always get angry in response, and then turn inward and beat myself up for the part of the shot that struck home with any kind of accuracy, no matter how slight.
So, there I was, mad and not at all in the mood to sit with John, much less with God.
Perhaps that is the time when one ought most to seek the presence of God and unload on truly broad shoulders. Jesus, after all, offered to carry our burdens.
Perhaps, the anger is, itself, a form of prayer. The psalmist gave voice to some deep-seated anger and, when I find myself stuck in a long-term funk, dark place or unpassing anger, I turn to the psalms.
But yesterday was a passing storm, that I finally let go of this afternoon on a long run.
The invitation today was to free prayer, and the run was the perfect time for that. I turned my I-pod onto a shuffle of up-tempo songs and lost myself in sweat and song and let go of the anger. I gave it away along the way. That is prayer.
Now I am ready for a Sabbath day.

What's In a Name?

Today's invitation is to do something that preachers are always told to avoid. Well, kind of. A standard piece of homiletic advice is, "don't preach the lists." In other words, avoid using the texts that are long lists of names. Reading them out loud in worship is said to be deadly dull.

Well, reading them quietly is not much better. But here is the list, from Matthew, that we're invited to read:
An account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah, the son of David, the son of Abraham.
Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Aram, and Aram the father of Aminadab, and Aminadab the father of Nahshon, and Nahshon the father of Salmon, 5and Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab, and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of King David.
And David was the father of Solomon by the wife of Uriah, and Solomon the father of Rehoboam, and Rehoboam the father of Abijah, and Abijah the father of Asaph, and Asaph the father of Jehoshaphat, and Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, and Joram the father of Uzziah, and Uzziah the father of Jotham, and Jotham the father of Ahaz, and Ahaz the father of Hezekiah, and Hezekiah the father of Manasseh, and Manasseh the father of Amos, and Amos the father of Josiah, and Josiah the father of Jechoniah and his brothers, at the time of the deportation to Babylon.
And after the deportation to Babylon: Jechoniah was the father of Salathiel, and Salathiel the father of Zerubbabel, and Zerubbabel the father of Abiud, and Abiud the father of Eliakim, and Eliakim the father of Azor, and Azor the father of Zadok, and Zadok the father of Achim, and Achim the father of Eliud, 15and Eliud the father of Eleazar, and Eleazar the father of Matthan, and Matthan the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born, who is called the Messiah.
So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; and from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations.

We are invited to consider the real human beings with their own messy lives represented in that list, and consider the same with a contemporary list -- for example, a phone book.
But frankly, I don't find much difficulty or challenge or depth in praying the lists that way. Sure, I can hold in the light dozens of people I do not know, but I don't feel drawn into any relationship with them, any accountability toward them, any responsibility for them.
The list in Matthew, on the other hand, is intended to evoke certain memories. Check again who is in it, and who is not. Mostly it's men, but the women named or alluded to are interesting because each was extremely marginalized in her social context. There is a particularity to their circumstances that would seem to make it impossible to expect anything great to come from them. Indeed, in would be hard to imagine that anything at all would come from their lives. They would have been among the cast off and cast aside.
Why would God choose such as these?
Hm ... why should I care for such as these?
All of which brings me to my evening's activity: attending a gumbo dinner at Sojourners that raised some money for a Sojo work trip to New Orleans this Holy Week. After dinner, we watched act 1 of Spike Lee's When the Levees Broke.
The documentary includes numerous interviews with survivors of Katrina. Most of them are folks you've never heard of, just like the genealogy of Jesus. But when they were forgotten and left behind by their government, God reached out to them through the hands of thousands of volunteers. (Which does not excuse the public sector or get it off the hook in any way for the continuing disaster in many lives along the Gulf Coast.)
So, this evening, as I read the list from Matthew, I thought of the folks we helped in Mississippi in the immediate aftermath of the storm and the hundreds of thousands of others just like them. And my prayer is that I have the faithfulness to, at the very least, enable others to give hands and feet to the prayer so that lives can continue to be touched.

Take a Hike

Today's invitation begins with parts of the creation stories from Genesis, and, even as I write that I know that I am going to take a meandering detour, so be forewarned.
I read a story in the Post this morning about a "creation studies" class from Liberty University visiting the Smithsonian natural history museum.
The professor is quoted saying "There's nothing balanced here. It's completely, 100 percent evolution-based. We come every year, because I don't hold anything back from the students."
Ironic that story should appear on the day we're invited to read from the creation stories. The plurality of creation stories in scripture ought, in and of itself, tell us something about the intention of the stories, and, at the very least, ought to raise questions about the utility of employing prescientific texts in response to a fundamentally scientific question.
So, if it's not a science text, what questions does Genesis address?
Theological ones. Questions about God. About who God is and what God cares about.
God looks at creation and calls it good in the first creation story. In the second, God walks through the garden in the evening breeze and simply enjoys the creative handiwork.
This is a God of infinite creativity and joy who invites us into joy and creativity, too.
The prayer invitation today is to take a prayer walk, through your neighborhood, your yard, your workplace, or wherever. Of course, by the time I got to this it's past 9:30 and no walk is going to happen.
But I did get in a brief run this afternoon, and mostly prayed to be done!
Then I took a short bike ride with Hannah, who is just beginning to get comfortable on her bike. We rode together down to the Shirlington neighborhood -- less than a mile. I was not specifically paying attention to creation and praying for those I passed along the way, as per the instructions.
But I was open to the thrust of grace in the early spring air, and filled with joy, love and a certain yearning as I watched my daughter peddle away down the bike path in front of me.
I think that was enough prayer for the day.

Reaching ... Touching ... Healing ... Whom

Today's invitation begins with reading Mark 5:24-34.
And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, ‘If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.’ Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, ‘Who touched my clothes?’ And his disciples said to him, ‘You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, “Who touched me?”’He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, ‘Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.’
The prayer of the day asks us to consider the places in our own lives that are bleeding, and continues with the question, "Have you judged someone for something they did to you? Your judgment can anchor their sin into your soul with a spiritual fishhook."
I've no problem recognizing many of my own broken places, and accepting the soul-freeing wisdom of forgiveness. But I believe the metaphors are mixed up and the story's real power missed if we turn it into seeking wholeness for our own run-of-the-mill places of brokenness -- loneliness, illness, discouragement, jealousy. Certainly those can be real and soul-killing. But the issue at stake in the strange little story from Mark is, well, the issue. That is to say, the woman's ritual uncleanness due to menstrual bleeding makes her untouchable and, when she touches Jesus she makes him unclean as well.
The reaching and touching in faith obliterates the social stigma at stake in the story. So the question for my meditation this evening is not what everyday brokenness do I carry with me that I need to let go of, but rather, what socially constructed marks of exclusion am I accepting unquestioningly that unjustly condemn others and leave my soul at stake? What socially constructed systems of domination am I participating in that crush my own soul and those of so many others? What powers and principalities are ruling my own heart?
So, while I certainly pray for healing of my own brokenness on multiple layers, as I read this story from Mark, I am most mindful of my need for courage to extend a healing hand to others, and to allow myself to be touched even when I'd prefer not to be.

Love Letter from God

The invitation for today is to read Romans 8:35-39, to sit with it for a while and listen as if to a love letter.
Like many pastors, I quote from this passage often: "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus."
I quote it, and I find comfort in it, but I certainly don't lay any claim to understanding just what it means.
But today, having just opened an e-mail from a good friend and colleague who confesses just now to feeling panic rising within her self on a project we are both deeply involved in, I am thinking that neither hopes nor fears, nor deadlines nor permits, nor liturgies nor police, nor expectations nor disappointments, nor failures nor budgets -- nothing will separate us from the love of God.
It simply will be all right in the end. We are loved. When we live out of that love, that trust, then we are powerful far beyond what we dare to imagine.

On the Seventh Day ...

I rested, and so should you. Heck, if it was good enough for God ...

In the Garden

The invitation for today, Saturday, is to free-form prayer, to be with God in whatever way feels free and joyous. It was a beautiful day today, and I spent most of it outside. We spent several hours in the garden, preparing soil, clearing the ends of last year's growth, pulling early weeds and spotting the first sprouts of mums. As Wendell Berry says, good work done kindly and well is prayer. I prayed in the dirt all day. A very fine way to step into spring.

Why Christian?

A word, from the context of the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq, from Ken Sehested, the founding director of the Baptist Peace Fellowship:
"Finally, a belated word of thanks to the CPWI group. I remember overhearing, from a distance, some of the controversy which surrounded the group's forming some years ago — basically, pretty caustic criticism for organizing a 'Christian' group. At the time I meant to write a strong endorsement for this strategy--against the cosmopolitanites and idealists who believe they can hang in mid-air, free of history and angles of vision, finding a location that transcends all social locations. This is the dark side of liberalism: the desire to reduce and distill everything to supposed 'universal' principles. This, too, is part of the domination system which must be resisted. This is not at all to deny the urgent need to do interfaith work, and to become sufficiently 'bilingual' to engage with people of no explicit faith commitment. But we must keep in mind the long history of dominant groups who want to say, 'we're all just alike.'"
I am reminded, when I hear vague references to a higher power, that it does matter greatly just what higher power we are talking about. After all, from where I sit here in Arlington, the Pentagon is a higher power, the White House is a higher power, the Congress is a higher power. Each of those higher powers does have the capacity to reduce us all to the same, to obliterate our histories and make of us creatures in their own particular images.
To follow Jesus is, first and foremost, to resist that power to reduce others to our own image, including the image of followers of Jesus. The cross is most abused when it is captive to the empire and becomes a sign of triumph rather than an invitation to compassion -- to suffering with.
Hm, so I wrote the above this morning. This afternoon I come to the Lenten exercise where today we are asked to read Luke 9:18-27, in which Jesus asks Peter, "who do you say that I am?"
The heading for today's exercise is, "What difference does it make that I'm a Christian?"
Clearly this afternoon is speaking to this morning. It does make a difference what higher power one calls upon, one sits with, one listens for. If God is made known in Jesus then what do we know of God? The passage from Luke is instructive. Just before Jesus asks the great Christological question he feeds 5,000 hungry souls and stomachs. Just after he asks it, he reminds his followers that the nature of discipleship is defined by the cross. Then, he continues his ministry of healing.
God feeds us. God desires our wholeness. God heals.
What difference does it make to put Jesus at the center of my devotion? It points me clearly toward that God. It draws me into relationship with that God.
None of which is an argument for exclusivity, but rather a recognition that I am a finite human being, situated in a particular culture and moment in history. I cannot follow every path, but I can follow the one before me with as much faithfulness as I am willing to risk.
Pictured? Oh, that's a window from my church. I call that one "peace Jesus."

Praying With ...

A two-fer today, as I try to catch up. Does unbinding my heart this rapidly pose risks?
Anyway, the invitation for today is praying for children. As father of three, this is nothing new under the sun. I feel like I spend half my life as parent following Rabbi Heschel's advice that we "pray with our feet." I'm always chasing children.
Coincidentally, this evening was parent-teacher conference night for our elementary school one. This morning was the presbytery's social justice committee meeting. The connection?
We focused this morning on the economic crisis and the host of theological questions that the church should be posing in its midst. The first question, it seems to me, for the North American church must be: what is the richest country in the history of the world called to do at this moment. While sitting in the meeting, I ambled over to Global Rich List to see where I fall on the list of the world's richest people. My present salary (which is less than ten percent higher than the minimum for a pastor in National Capital Presbytery) puts me in the richest .88 percent of the global population. Number 53,205,017 to be precise.
We live in what passes for the working class section of Arlington and our youngest child goes to the school in the county that serves the highest percentage of free lunches and has the lowest scores on standardized tests. Yet it has the richest learning environment of any school that our three children have been in (in four states and several incredibly affluent school systems).
If we are to be honest in assessing the financial crisis we must first be honest in assessing our own wealth. If we are to be honest in praying for the children of the world, we must first be honest in confessing how much more we could be doing for them if we worried less about the state of our 401Ks and recognize the ridiculous abundance that we have at our disposal.
So, I see the great Rabbi's walking prayer and raise him one. We need to be praying with our checkbooks, too.
The image? I found that when I image-searched "praying with our checkbooks." So my final prayer of the day: thank you God for the world wide web!

Thanksgiving

Yesterday's invitation was to gratitude, so I give thanks for a moment this afternoon to reflect. I am thankful for the folks who came out last night to talk about what it means to become part of a congregation and to take a step in that direction with respect to our little community.
Of course, that meeting was what got in the way of this spiritual "discipline" last night. Tonight, a parent-teacher conference will get in the way.
Real life tends to get in the way of spiritual practice, at least to the extent that we admit a distinction into our understanding.
We are talking this Lent at Clarendon about embodied faith, and we began the conversation reflecting that Jesus' Judaism did not include the mind/body, spirit/body dualism of the Greeks, and that, to the extent that Western Christianity adopted that dualism that denigrates the body in favor of the spirit it departs from its authentic roots.
So, the challenge of a spiritual practice of gratitude may lie simply in understanding how one could follow Paul's charge to "give thanks in all circumstances." In the midst of every moment -- the staff meeting you sat through today, the traffic on the way home, the hurried dinner plans, the homework, the bedtime, the sunrise wake up tomorrow -- in every moment give thanks.
I'm pretty sure I'm not up for that! On the other hand, Henri Nouwen once observed that gratitude is the fundamental attitude common to all authentic religious expression. So, if you want to get religion -- and, of course, who doesn't! -- give thanks.
Picture: gratitude in a bottle -- I'll drink to that!

Altars, Stones and Sacrifices

Today's invitation is to read from Genesis the call of Abram to journey toward a land of promise, and, once on the outskirts of that land to build an altar. Reading it I thought of the various altars that we all build to the various gods that we worship. The god of money, lately toppled from its heaven, we worship now in desperation at the debris of the altar of the market. The god of family we worship at the hearths we build. The god of knowledge is worshiped at the high temple of the university. The god of freedom we worship often in the garage altars that honor our cars. The god of power is honored at the massive five-sided altar just up the road from here.
One of the central symbolic acts of the Reformation was to do away with the altar -- the place of sacrifice -- and replace it with the table -- the place of welcome and gathering in the community, the place of revelation in the breaking of bread as opposed to in the breaking of bodies upon the stone of sacrifice. The reformers wanted to draw attention to Jesus and away from the notion of offering sacrifices to please God. Of course, there was a great deal more to their theological and political and architectural thinking than that one sentence pretends to capture.
Still, something in me resists altar-building. On the other hand, I love to collect stones from places that seem sacred to me. I carry the smallest of those around in my guitar case, and will from time to time use them in worship settings. The larger stones tend to find a place in my garden. I suppose I could think of that as an altar, but I prefer the simplicity and the symbolism of the garden. After all, that's where Jesus went to pray and if it's good enough for Jesus, then it's good enough for me.
So, I did the reading and offered the prayer of this day, but I'll leave the altar building to others. Me, I'll wait a bit longer for the coming of spring and then I'll go into my garden to pray amidst the stones.
Oh, the picture is a Mayan altar for sacrifices.

In the Details

Our Lenten journey this year is gathering round Martha Grace Reese's Unbinding Your Heart. The first day of the 40 days of spiritual practice and prayer invites you to read Psalm 139 -- O, Lord you have searched me and known me. The psalmists feels God's presence everywhere, from dawn to dusk, from highest heaven to the pits of Sheol.
One imagines that Mies van der Rohe understood God this way. "God is in the details," the architect famously said.
Such a God does not, it would seem to me, much care how we practice our spirituality. Being all present, it would seem to be a question of our presence to God much more so than God's presence to us.
So, the question for 40 days of intentional drawing of one's self into relation with God is, what opens you to that presence.
It was with such lofty thoughts that I stepped across the room to pick up a Bible to read Psalm 139 ... and stepped squarely into a pile of dog vomit. Seems that the chocolate birthday cake that the dog got into this afternoon did not sit well!
So I'm left to contemplate the details in which one finds God. Even in the pit of Sheol?
I have been there, and, indeed, felt the presence of the spirit of shalom. So a little mess to clean up ... or several ... is nothing. In fact, perhaps this was just another reminder from the canines that dog is in the details, too.
The spiritual life is not for the faint of heart.
Indeed, as our preaching together at Clarendon during Lent is stressing, Christianity is, or ought to be, an embodied faith. It is grounded in the earthiness of early Judaism. The gospel stories -- especially the synoptics -- are full of stories that include eating, healing, touching, listening and seeing. The texts we read together yesterday -- Luke's account of feeding the five thousand and the Numbers story of manna in the wilderness -- are all about food and the ridiculous abundance of God's economy.
While just now I am wishing that my dog's had not experienced ridiculous abundance this afternoon, even in these messy details I can detect ... well, perhaps divine laughter.

Rereading

Got a call from a young friend this week looking for a bit of guidance for responding to a church person who went on a public rant about gays in the church. I pointed him in all the usual directions (More Light Presbyterians, Covenant Network, Walter Wink, and so forth), and then I sent him this article by a preacher who has changed his mind on these issues. In the article linked above, the writer details how a rereading of scripture in an emerging context of shifting attitudes about faithful gay and lesbian persons led him the rethink and, ultimately, revise his position.
As I read his reflections, I was reminded once again that religion, to be faithful, must always look two directions at once: backward and forward. The word, itself, hints at this. The Latin roots of religion are tangled up in two distinct meanings and trajectories. Lige, from which we get our word ligament, means to tie our bind, and thus suggests a meaning of religion pointing backward -- binding us back to a tradition or story that we have inherited. Lege, from which we get legible, means to read again or reread, and thus suggests a meaning of religion point forward to new readings of tradition or text.
Jesus seemed to grasp this intuitively. In the Sermon on the Mount he tells his listeners, "you have heard it said ..., but I say ..." and thus rereads his own tradition.
For example, when he says, "you have heard it said, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,' but I say 'if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other one also.'"
While I love Walter Wink's reading of this as a profoundly subversive and tactical text, I think it is first, clearly, a rereading. We tend to miss the power of the rereading of those words because we don't think too highly of the notion of trading one eye for another. But when that ancient Israeli law was codified in scripture it represented a great advance in the cause of justice from a social setting in which an injury inflicted by a member of one tribe on a member of another -- even accidental -- could result in wholesale slaughter.
Jesus had a new mind for a new time. He understood that changed social circumstances and attitudes created space for rereading the tradition and its foundational texts in ways that would advance peace and underscore the power of nonviolence. As the picture here (taken last month in DC) suggests, the threat of violence remains quite real in the lives of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered persons.
As the church struggles to hear the Spirit's voice through its traditions and texts in a radically new social context, I keep thinking, "if rereading was good enough for Jesus, then it might be good for us, too."

In the Light

Tomorrow is a significant day in the life of the broader church as 15 Presbyteries hold votes on the General Assembly's proposed amendment to the Book of Order to change G-6.060106b to open the door to a more just and inclusive denomination. Of the Presbyteries that vote tomorrow, 10 voted "no" on a similar proposal in 2001 (the last time the Presbyteries acted on ordination). As of this afternoon, with the affirmative vote of Tres Rios Presbytery (Midland, Texas), 11 Presbyteries that voted no in 2001 have vote yes this time around. To approve the change, more than 40 Presbyteries need to change their vote from no to yes. While it is a long and steep climb, thus far Presbyteries in western North Carolina, eastern Tennessee, central Alabama, and west Texas have changed. The spirit is moving in the church. Please hold the Presbyteries below in the light of love, grace, welcome and reconciliation tomorrow.
East Iowa
Eastern Oregon
Giddings-Lovejoy
Greater Atlanta
Homestead
John Knox
Lake Erie
Mid-Kentucky
New Hope
North Alabama
Ohio Valley
Sacramento
The James
Tropical Florida
Utah

Open Space with the Quakers

I've been at Stony Point Center for the past several days with a group of 50 or so folks called together to talk about beginning an intentional, dispersed, Christian community focused on nonviolence and justice interrelated with the community at Stony Point.
Lots of powerful moving of the spirit in our midst and some interesting things being born, and I'm sure to be reflecting on this for weeks and months to come.
But right now I'm still pondering the process we used: a mix of open-space technology and Quaker discernment.
It was a fascinating experience -- sometimes tortuous, never linear, occasionally ponderous. It was interesting to see the process get bogged down in the same ways and places that Presbyterian parliamentary procedures tend to: community wordsmithing, for example. But closing the discussion was done with so much more gentleness that "calling for the question" -- no less finality, just more grace.
As we Presbyterians seek more spirit-led ways to make decisions, we can learn from our Quaker friends and from the people who create open space as well.

Blowing in the Wind on Marriage Equality Day

Seventeen of us, from at least four congregations, gathered in the very blustery plaza of the Arlington County Courthouse yesterday. We shared an interfaith liturgy of prayers and readings, and then proceeded to the sixth floor offices of the county clerk, Paul Ferguson. Mr. Ferguson met us and welcomed us to the office. Meanwhile, Claire and Rebecca, who are members of the Rock Spring United Church of Christ, filled out the on-line form to apply for a license. As they filled in all of the requisite family data, Mr. Ferguson explained the state of the law in Virginia.
When the form was completed, the person staffing the window requested proper ID, and gave Claire and Rebecca a copy of the application to check for accuracy. When they confirmed the information, the staff person apologized and said, "I cannot grant you a license."
Mr. Ferguson looked straight at Claire and Rebecca and said, "I am truly sorry."
Looking at the rest of us, he said, "thank you for being here." He told us that our presence was important because it allowed him to report to the state that same-gender couples are requesting licenses.
Then each of us laid a flower on the window in honor of various couples who cannot be married here. As I laid my flower on the window I honored Ron and James. If I had a bouquet, it would be to honor each of the people in my congregation for their continued faithful witness that God's love knows no bounds and that what God blesses should receive the equal protection of the law.
There was much more that was moving and powerful, as well as simple and interesting during our hour witness, but those details will have to wait.

Too much, too soon, too bad

I found myself writing this note on camp to a friend from another Presbytery this afternoon.
The Meadowkirk situation is ugly. It's been brewing for several years, and it's all about the money. I think that there's plenty of blame to go around on all sides, and it probably doesn't do anybody much good to sort that out at this point. In a strange way, the economic downturn may save the camp because it cannot be sold right now, and too much of the Presbytery's money is tied up in it to take the losses. I do think that pieces of it will be sold as soon as there's a market for the lots. That won't destroy the integrity of the camp, but it's unfortunate.
With the 20-20 of hindsight, it's clear that we built too much too fast and did it with too much borrowed money leveraging too many Presbytery assets on use projections that were far too rosy. I remain hopeful about the viability of the ministry, but I think it will be a good day for everyone when it is more disconnected from Presbytery.
The question is: can it survive long enough to make that happen? I really don't think anyone knows. I do not think it will survive on the old model of hosting church retreats, small groups and then the various kinds of summer programs for youth.
I'd like to see it work to become a smaller scale Montreat for the mid-Atlantic and Northeast, but that would require building a capacity for programs, marketing and hospitality that simply don't exist right now. I can also imagine it hosting all kinds of gatherings that are resourced out of the DC office -- focusing on the spiritual foundations of policy work rather than simply going to the Hill as usual. But any alternative vision takes birthing and there's not much good will around here for that process.
That's my two cents -- not that it's worth even that much in today's economy.
I suppose the only "word to the wise" from all of this is don't spend money that you don't have. Of course, none of us in DC operate that way!

Faith and Values

A few random "Monday morning thoughts" delayed till Tuesday!
Sunday morning at Clarendon we talked about finding our voice. We had a brief "popcorn" conversation during worship in which folks named the values that shape and undergird what we say.
It was both easy to anticipate and, at the same time, illuminating in what was on the list: love, welcome, faith, hope, peace, acceptance, justice, compassion, forgiveness; and in what was not named. I wonder how long we would have talked before we got to values such as righteousness and truth and how we would have spoken of them.
It's not that those are unimportant, but rather that their meanings are contested and thus the subject of deeper exploration instead of being on the top of the list of easy to name and agree upon values.
I wonder, also, how the list would have read if we had be talking about practices of faith, as distinct from values that frame our understanding.

Brace yourselves

"The man with a toothache thinks everyone happy whose teeth are sound. The poverty-stricken man makes the same mistake about the rich man."
So said George Bernard Shaw, making me wonder would you rather be a rich man with a tooth ache than a poor man with good teeth? Chew on that for a while ... there seems to be rather a decay of good humor here as we wait for a bridge to a better blog.
Not much to sink your teeth into here today, although somehow the combination of a trip to the dentist and a snow day reminded me of my favorite wee tale about my paternal grandmother who lost her dentures sledding down a huge hill near her home in Chattanooga when my father was a little boy. She never found the teeth, and never lived down the tale.

thought for the day

The mind of a bigot is like the pupil of the eye. The more light you shine on it, the more it will contract.
- Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
A thought for a day one which four of the five of us had eye doctor appointments. Tomorrow we go to the dentist. Wonder what thoughts that will inspire?

Inaugural Post

I walked in the streets in DC again this weekend. I’ve done that many times before, but for the first time I walked in them to celebrate for something rather than agitate against something. I spoke with several others in the streets or on the Metro who were sharing the same realization. It’s an interesting sensation, and one I’d like to have again someday.
The whole family went down yesterday to join the millions in the throng for President Obama’s (that was fun to write; I think I’ll do it again: President Obama’s) inauguration. We couldn’t see much, but we could certainly feel the excitement and joy as we celebrated the peaceful transfer of power that marks a great democracy moving more fully into its promise of “all people.”
Oddly enough, I got interviewed again. I’m not sure why this happens, but I’ve been a “person-on-the-street” interview at least four times in D.C. with media outlets ranging from al Jazeera (I kid you not) to the CBS Evening News. Yesterday it was Ebony.
The reporter asked us what the inauguration meant to us and how it made us feel. My nine-year-old daughter, remembering afternoons spent walking the canvas routes with me, said, “excited and proud that I helped to get the first African-American president elected.”
Never having learned the actor’s adage to avoid dogs and children because they will upstage you every time, I dived in, too.
President Obama’s inauguration prompted me to think back to my Southern childhood. I was born in Alabama in 1959, and probably had my diapers changed in Whites Only restrooms – certainly not change you can believe in!
The arc of the moral universe is long, but it does bend toward justice. It has been bent dramatically, by the faithful work of thousands of committed hands, in my lifetime.
The journey toward a more perfect union is endless, but we have travelled – marched, walked, freedom rode – a great distance, and yesterday was a time to celebrate not only the election of a leader with phenomenal gifts and potential, but also that national journey.
Nothing else could explain why 2 million people would brave the cold, the wind, and the inconvenience of being on the Mall. I still don’t know exactly what the president said because the words echoing off the Washington Monument were often muddled and sometimes drowned out by the flags whipping in the wind. But there is no place in the world that I would rather have been.

Prayer for the Obama Years

O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…
Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.
Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.
And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.
Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace. AMEN.
-- Bishop Gene Robinson

If This Is a Dream, Don't Wake Me

No, that's not a terrorist! It's my middle child, Martin, bundled against the chill this afternoon at the pre-inaugural concert on the Mall -- waiting for that quintessential American, Bono, to perform! Hey, if the Irish can claim "O'bama" then we can claim U2.
We've got a house full for the inauguration and King Day festivities in DC this weekend. As I watched the concert this afternoon (from our "front row" place at the base of the Washington Monument ... no more than, oh, about a mile from the stage at the base of the Lincoln Memorial), I thought of Dr. King's speech in Lincoln's shadow, and his dream of a day when white men and black men, Protestants and Catholics, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveholders would be able to join hands. Our house is hosting this week Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, black and white, gay and straight, North American and Latino, young and not so young, men and women. We don't look quite as diverse as the crowd on the Mall this afternoon, but it's a fine mix of America that has found its way to our living room this week to celebrate King Day and the inauguration of President Obama. I think Dr. King would be smiling.