I wrote this entry this past weekend, so it’s being posted a bit late. Enjoy!
________
“I'm holding my heart out but clutching it too
Feeling this short of a love that we once knew
I'm calling this home when it's not even close
Playing the role with nerves left exposed”
- From Reasons Why by Nickel Creek (yes, Nickel Creek again!)
Last week was hard. If I’m honest, this past week was hard too.
So many good things have been happening. I’ve met folks around the neighborhood with similar hearts, and it’s neat to finally make connections. To have my soul fed by people whose life goals parallel my own. I hope that friendships continue to form … into whatever shape that is sweet and life-giving. And I hope that I develop a community in which to rest my soul.
My summer stint is nearly over. One more week actually. Four more days. 40 more hours.
I’m ready for it to end.
Though I’ve met some beautiful people, most of whom I hope for friendships to continue, my spirit is anxious for a new beginning. Trans-Mountain down. Mt. Everest to climb.
Back to why the past two weeks have been a bit difficult: I just haven’t been feeling like myself. Small reminders here and there have sustained me. Meeting people from Sojourners (not related to the title of this blog or the tattoo on my foot (hi Daddy!) – just a cool group of folks with a heart for justice). Meeting folks from the Servant Leadership School (a place where Henri Nouwen once stayed). And folks from Potter’s House (a progressive coffee shop/venue/church, etc.).
I’ve also had small reminders of who I am from consistently beautiful friends. Dear friends have spent tremendous amounts of cell phone minutes and gchat messages reminding me of who I am. They’ve provided me with wise words and encouraging book recommendations. They’ve devotedly returned S.O.S. phone messages and have put up with bellyaching on the other end. Even Abigail has endured a number of phone calls right before sweet Elly swept into this world (I had to get my Abigail-time in before little Elly took her away!). And, of course, my beautiful sister has hilariously persuaded me out of hormonal hysteria.
All that said … I suppose these kids aren’t really small reminders … rather HUGE mirrors within which to view my intricately textured past and present. Thank God for them! (And for the technology simulating their close proximity.)
But, I’m not sure where this subtly pervasive feeling of not completely being “me” has begun. I’m sure it’s all a matter of becoming familiarized with unfamiliar sidewalks and street corners and metro stops and faces and voices and personalities. Transition takes a while. As does the growth within and through the process.
I’m looking forward to returning to Texas and New Mexico for a few days after a Boston-detour. To plug into a community of family and friends who love me in spite of all they know of me. I’m ready for my Mama to hold me in her arms, make me laugh like a hyena, and let me whine to her as I have been doing successfully for the past 20-some-odd years. I’m ready to see my brother and his latest tattoo and have him remind me that I’m his little sis so he can pray for me as much as he wants, no matter how much I plead for him not to. I’m ready to see Mary Beth’s new house, have her remind me of where I came from, the good and the bad, and reminisce over childhood delinquency and escapades while we drink smoothies and watch Freaks and Geeks.
I’m ready for Austin-town. To drink some tea with matt graham, a beloved friend, so we can catch up on life … our failings and adventures. He’ll probably let me cry (yeah, literally cry) and he won’t judge me too bad. He’ll just give me a weird look of, “Holy shit, she’s crying. What do I do?!” And I’m ready for him to knock some sense into my puny brain and heart and spirit with his poetic frankness and his empathetic mercy. He’s good at that, he is.
I’m ready for B/CS. To randomly show up at Chris and Bill’s steps and beg them to take me in so I can overstay my welcome after a home-cooked meal. Because their home makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside like a comfy couch will sloppy, goose-feathered pillows to sink into and soothe my soul. And because I love their company. I miss Chris a lot. I miss random Blue Baker runs for soup in a bread bowl. And her random phone calls simultaneously filled with angst and joy and intellect. All three at once. And I’m ready to meet Lenny (her long-awaited labor-doodle!).
And I’m ready to hug and kiss my sweet and beautiful Gramma. Man, that woman is beautiful! I wish you could meet her. She’d lure you in with her frijoles con chorizo and never let you go after that! The two of us are taking a road-trip a la New Mexico. It should be a grand adventure, just the two of us. An abuelita and her nieta and the open road!
I transgress.
Anywho, that’s about it for now. Good days. Bad days. In-between days.
Days where God bounces beautiful rays around as reminders of eternal purposes … and I actually take notice.
Days where God bounces beautiful rays around as reminders of eternal purposes … and I don’t take notice at all.
To close, I’ll leave you with a funny yet poignant quote from Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. May you notice bouncing rays today. And may they fill you with blessings of peace and solace and reminders you who you are.
“It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools – friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said, Do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they’re enough.”
- Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott, page 103
Peace.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
'today is the seed time'
Sorry if my previous blog entry was a bit scandalous. (I suppose that’s the intriguing part of having a blog, but also a negative in trying to emulate my thoughts and emotions at one point in time via the Internet). I received some feedback via email and definitely appreciate everything that folks said and how folks responded …
That blog entry was written immediately after I read a stimulating book entitled Inheriting the Trade: A Northern Family Confronts Its Legacy as the Largest Slave-Trading Dynasty in U.S. History. The book is written by Thomas DeWolf, a descendant of the DeWolf’s of Rhode Island. The DeWolf’s, during the height of the slave trade, capitalized significantly from the enslavement of Africans and the intertwined product trading. Also, aside from having deep set connections in political, economic, and social circles in America’s power elite, many of the DeWolf family were also Episcopalian ministers. This adds an interesting dynamic to Thomas DeWolf’s reflection.
Inheriting the Trade follows ten DeWolf descendants on a journey retracing the Triangle Trade, i.e., how their ancestors came into power, wealth, and prestige. They met in Rhode Island, traveled to West Africa’s “slave castles”, over to Cuban plantations once owned by their families, and then back to Rhode Island.
The journey’s inspiration and the resulting emotions/transformations/stagnations that occurred within and as a result of their journey can also be seen in a PBS documentary. The documentary is entitled Traces of the Trade: A Story from the Deep North and was organized by one of the ten participating descendants, Katrina Browne.
I highly recommend this book and documentary to anyone interested in the contemporary racial relations and how they are directly tied to the historical foundation of our nation. I also highly recommend these materials to anyone interested in learning more about white privilege, racial reconciliation, and the profoundly established power that white folks gained from enslaving human beings. It’s also an easy read for history buffs and/or for people interested in “generational sin,” if you will, and/or for people interested in basic social justice.
Though more “radical” books exist, of course, this one is a great testimony from a white person’s perspective about coming to terms with systemic racism, and his personal racist tendencies, in a more pragmatic manner than I’ve seen/read in a while.
So, again, I apologize if my previous blog entry was harsh on the eyes. But that’s how it goes sometimes.
Peace and love.
“Now is the accepted time, not tomorrow, not some more convenient season. It is today that our best work can be done and not some future day or future year. It is today that we fit ourselves for the greater usefulness of tomorrow. Today is the seed time, now are the hours of work, and tomorrow comes the harvest and the playtime.”
- W.E.B. DuBois
That blog entry was written immediately after I read a stimulating book entitled Inheriting the Trade: A Northern Family Confronts Its Legacy as the Largest Slave-Trading Dynasty in U.S. History. The book is written by Thomas DeWolf, a descendant of the DeWolf’s of Rhode Island. The DeWolf’s, during the height of the slave trade, capitalized significantly from the enslavement of Africans and the intertwined product trading. Also, aside from having deep set connections in political, economic, and social circles in America’s power elite, many of the DeWolf family were also Episcopalian ministers. This adds an interesting dynamic to Thomas DeWolf’s reflection.
Inheriting the Trade follows ten DeWolf descendants on a journey retracing the Triangle Trade, i.e., how their ancestors came into power, wealth, and prestige. They met in Rhode Island, traveled to West Africa’s “slave castles”, over to Cuban plantations once owned by their families, and then back to Rhode Island.
The journey’s inspiration and the resulting emotions/transformations/stagnations that occurred within and as a result of their journey can also be seen in a PBS documentary. The documentary is entitled Traces of the Trade: A Story from the Deep North and was organized by one of the ten participating descendants, Katrina Browne.
I highly recommend this book and documentary to anyone interested in the contemporary racial relations and how they are directly tied to the historical foundation of our nation. I also highly recommend these materials to anyone interested in learning more about white privilege, racial reconciliation, and the profoundly established power that white folks gained from enslaving human beings. It’s also an easy read for history buffs and/or for people interested in “generational sin,” if you will, and/or for people interested in basic social justice.
Though more “radical” books exist, of course, this one is a great testimony from a white person’s perspective about coming to terms with systemic racism, and his personal racist tendencies, in a more pragmatic manner than I’ve seen/read in a while.
So, again, I apologize if my previous blog entry was harsh on the eyes. But that’s how it goes sometimes.
Peace and love.
“Now is the accepted time, not tomorrow, not some more convenient season. It is today that our best work can be done and not some future day or future year. It is today that we fit ourselves for the greater usefulness of tomorrow. Today is the seed time, now are the hours of work, and tomorrow comes the harvest and the playtime.”
- W.E.B. DuBois
Thursday, July 10, 2008
'the truth is a bitter friend': random thoughts that somehow relate to each other
A group of friends and I were discussing current events around the lunch-table recently. One of the topics discussed was the presidential election and the blatant racism that occurs at a horribly disgusting, yet predictable, rate. Our discussion focused, in particular, on white privilege, the white evangelical Christian community, and other things that even as I type, royally piss me off.
(Disclaimer: I have not had a lot of sleep recently, so excuse my rant … and the rant that is about to occur.)
One friend brilliantly posed this tongue-in-cheek rhetorical question: “So, if God allowed Hurricane Katrina to demolish New Orleans because of ‘homosexuals,’ ‘delinquent black people’, and ‘sexual promiscuity,’ thereby damning its residents, then why aren’t certain members of the Christian community talking about how God allowed the recent floods in the Midwest in order to damn all of the white evangelical Christian Republicans???”
Brilliant.
_______________________
I have had a hard time accepting the history of Christianity recently. A hard time accepting the historic use of missions to colonize countries, thereby devastating languages, cultures, art forms, et cetera. Tearing apart families. Killing people with diseases. And with weapons of mass destruction.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in the slave trade and in the perpetuation of slavery in the U.S. for centuries. A hard time knowing that within the slave trade castles on the west coast of Africa (literally hell-on-earth vacuums where enslaved Africans were placed in shackles and in utterly inhumane conditions) “places of worship,” i.e. Christian churches, existed for white slave traders to attend service while the groans of human beings could be heard below. And these “places of worship” also existed to convert the “savages” to the one and only “true religion of white men,” therefore the “true religion of the world.”
I have a hard time accepting the role that many, if not the majority, of Christian church leaders had during American slavery – themselves owners of enslaved Africans and African Americans.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in Jim Crow America. Christian men and women performed and celebrated the lynching of human beings. They participated in acts of terrorism toward people whom they deemed sub-human. They condoned unequal access to quality education and healthcare. They used blatantly evil words to describe a large segment of human beings they were instead called to love. I have a hard time knowing that these conditions are not only history. They exist today … it makes my stomach turn in disgust.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in the Civil Rights Movement.
I have a hard time with card-carrying members of the Christian community voting against reforms to further create equality among the races, as many celebrated white Christian men voted against the Civil Rights legislation of the 1960s.
I have a hard time accepting the current state of Christianity where celebrated white Christian leaders claim damnation in New Orleans and New York because of “immoral behavior,” but do not mention any sort of damnation in Midwest hotbeds of white evangelical Christianity. (I do not agree with the logic either way … I am just calling out the hypocrisy. The logic, to me, is bullshit.)
_______________________
That said, I want to make sure you readers (some in particular) know that I do not have doubts about the existence of God. A God of joy and peace and love. Not any more than my usual daily, weekly, etc. doubts anyways.
I do, however, have extreme doubts about the character of the faith in which I claim membership. And I have doubts as to whether or not that faith is indeed the most socially just.
I am ashamed at the hypocrisy of the evangelical community in warmly accepting and praising a white presidential nominee eight years ago who claimed the Christian faith while adamantly rejecting and/or critically questioning a contemporary black presidential nominee who has ostensibly lived out his personal Christian values based in the Biblical justice of peace and love (as opposed to the Biblical justice of violence).
That said I am ashamed that I, at times and without question, claim the faith I do while ignoring the blatant history of racism, sexism, violence, and paternalistic dogma that exists not only in the faith’s A.D. history but also in the actual scriptural history.
I am extremely shameful of the unjust history of the faith in which I claim membership. And I am ashamed at myself for participating in contemporary injustices that the faith in which I claim membership conducts.
I am ashamed at the thought of attending an all white affluent church in a predominately minority urban environment where poverty and homelessness literally exists on the footsteps of our National Mall.
I am ashamed that I hypocritically ignore, do not discuss and/or learn more about, and do not struggle against modern slavery. I am ashamed that I contribute to modern slavery by not doing anything about it, therefore participating in it.
I am ashamed at the haughtiness and incongruity of members of my faith, including myself at times, who completely reject beautiful aspects of other faiths while not questioning ugly injustices that occurs within our own.
_______________________
I can go on. But I won’t. I’m tired and now am depressed at the thought of all of this.
I know the arguments against everything I just wrote. And I know that Church members did have active, active roles in abolitionist movements, peace moments, the civil rights movements, and definitely now. And I am sure that Church members spoke against the injustice of the Crusades and other historic moments (… or large segments … or throughout the entire history of the faith) where Christianity was manipulated by individuals, leaders, nations, and people groups as a weapon of terror rather than blanket of peace.
But I cannot help but think that so many of us who claim social justice as a calling have lukewarm hearts rather than hearts truly aflame with love for our brothers, sisters, and God. Even more so, I cannot help but think that so many of us who are called to “spread the kingdom” in various ways (including but not limited to social justice) have lukewarm hearts toward the Justice of Love … not fully comprehending how it has been palpably abused in the past while also not fully comprehending how powerful it can be toward finally creating a beautiful just kingdom on earth. (And lukewarm ain’t so cool.)
And I cannot help but wonder what the ULTIMATE truth is. Is it our dreadfully convoluted interpretation of “heaven-inspired” words while we create cold shackles for our brothers and sisters? Or is it our dreadfully convoluted interpretation of a Son who calls for peace-on-earth while we accept the murder of innocents and non-innocents alike (within the Main Streets of Rhode Island and Alabama to the deserts of Darfur and Iraq) on a daily basis?
Or is there more than all of this??? Something absolute and beautiful and true and not permanently stained by the injustice of our own fucked-up interpretations???
Perhaps Nickel Creek is right … “the truth is a bitter friend” …
But despite tonight’s rant, I still believe in the God of peace and joy and love … with the usual doubts of course.
As always … Peace and Love to you. (And thanks for putting up with the rant.)
_______________________
doubting thomas by nickel creek
- you can hear it by clicking their myspace page (it’s the last song on the list)
- just an fyi – nickel creek IS NOT a Christian band … just a really cool indie band influenced by bluegrass
- and this is one of my favorite songs by them
“what will be left when i've drawn my last breath,
besides the folks i've met and the folks who know me,
will i discover a soul saving love,
or just the dirt above and below me,
i’m a doubting thomas,
i took a promise,
but i do not feel safe,
oh me of little faith,
sometimes i pray for a slap in the face,
then i beg to be spared 'cause i'm a coward,
if there's a master of death i'll bet he's holding his breath,
as i show the blind and tell the deaf about his power,
i'm a doubting thomas,
i can't keep my promises,
'cause i don't know what's safe,
oh me of little faith
can i be used to help others find truth,
when i'm scared i'll find proof that its a lie,
can i be lead down a trail dropping bread crumbs,
that prove i'm not ready to die,
please give me time to decipher the signs,
please forgive me for time that i've wasted,
i’m a doubting thomas,
i'll take your promise,
though I know nothin's safe,
oh me of little faith”
(Disclaimer: I have not had a lot of sleep recently, so excuse my rant … and the rant that is about to occur.)
One friend brilliantly posed this tongue-in-cheek rhetorical question: “So, if God allowed Hurricane Katrina to demolish New Orleans because of ‘homosexuals,’ ‘delinquent black people’, and ‘sexual promiscuity,’ thereby damning its residents, then why aren’t certain members of the Christian community talking about how God allowed the recent floods in the Midwest in order to damn all of the white evangelical Christian Republicans???”
Brilliant.
_______________________
I have had a hard time accepting the history of Christianity recently. A hard time accepting the historic use of missions to colonize countries, thereby devastating languages, cultures, art forms, et cetera. Tearing apart families. Killing people with diseases. And with weapons of mass destruction.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in the slave trade and in the perpetuation of slavery in the U.S. for centuries. A hard time knowing that within the slave trade castles on the west coast of Africa (literally hell-on-earth vacuums where enslaved Africans were placed in shackles and in utterly inhumane conditions) “places of worship,” i.e. Christian churches, existed for white slave traders to attend service while the groans of human beings could be heard below. And these “places of worship” also existed to convert the “savages” to the one and only “true religion of white men,” therefore the “true religion of the world.”
I have a hard time accepting the role that many, if not the majority, of Christian church leaders had during American slavery – themselves owners of enslaved Africans and African Americans.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in Jim Crow America. Christian men and women performed and celebrated the lynching of human beings. They participated in acts of terrorism toward people whom they deemed sub-human. They condoned unequal access to quality education and healthcare. They used blatantly evil words to describe a large segment of human beings they were instead called to love. I have a hard time knowing that these conditions are not only history. They exist today … it makes my stomach turn in disgust.
I have a hard time accepting the role of the Church in the Civil Rights Movement.
I have a hard time with card-carrying members of the Christian community voting against reforms to further create equality among the races, as many celebrated white Christian men voted against the Civil Rights legislation of the 1960s.
I have a hard time accepting the current state of Christianity where celebrated white Christian leaders claim damnation in New Orleans and New York because of “immoral behavior,” but do not mention any sort of damnation in Midwest hotbeds of white evangelical Christianity. (I do not agree with the logic either way … I am just calling out the hypocrisy. The logic, to me, is bullshit.)
_______________________
That said, I want to make sure you readers (some in particular) know that I do not have doubts about the existence of God. A God of joy and peace and love. Not any more than my usual daily, weekly, etc. doubts anyways.
I do, however, have extreme doubts about the character of the faith in which I claim membership. And I have doubts as to whether or not that faith is indeed the most socially just.
I am ashamed at the hypocrisy of the evangelical community in warmly accepting and praising a white presidential nominee eight years ago who claimed the Christian faith while adamantly rejecting and/or critically questioning a contemporary black presidential nominee who has ostensibly lived out his personal Christian values based in the Biblical justice of peace and love (as opposed to the Biblical justice of violence).
That said I am ashamed that I, at times and without question, claim the faith I do while ignoring the blatant history of racism, sexism, violence, and paternalistic dogma that exists not only in the faith’s A.D. history but also in the actual scriptural history.
I am extremely shameful of the unjust history of the faith in which I claim membership. And I am ashamed at myself for participating in contemporary injustices that the faith in which I claim membership conducts.
I am ashamed at the thought of attending an all white affluent church in a predominately minority urban environment where poverty and homelessness literally exists on the footsteps of our National Mall.
I am ashamed that I hypocritically ignore, do not discuss and/or learn more about, and do not struggle against modern slavery. I am ashamed that I contribute to modern slavery by not doing anything about it, therefore participating in it.
I am ashamed at the haughtiness and incongruity of members of my faith, including myself at times, who completely reject beautiful aspects of other faiths while not questioning ugly injustices that occurs within our own.
_______________________
I can go on. But I won’t. I’m tired and now am depressed at the thought of all of this.
I know the arguments against everything I just wrote. And I know that Church members did have active, active roles in abolitionist movements, peace moments, the civil rights movements, and definitely now. And I am sure that Church members spoke against the injustice of the Crusades and other historic moments (… or large segments … or throughout the entire history of the faith) where Christianity was manipulated by individuals, leaders, nations, and people groups as a weapon of terror rather than blanket of peace.
But I cannot help but think that so many of us who claim social justice as a calling have lukewarm hearts rather than hearts truly aflame with love for our brothers, sisters, and God. Even more so, I cannot help but think that so many of us who are called to “spread the kingdom” in various ways (including but not limited to social justice) have lukewarm hearts toward the Justice of Love … not fully comprehending how it has been palpably abused in the past while also not fully comprehending how powerful it can be toward finally creating a beautiful just kingdom on earth. (And lukewarm ain’t so cool.)
And I cannot help but wonder what the ULTIMATE truth is. Is it our dreadfully convoluted interpretation of “heaven-inspired” words while we create cold shackles for our brothers and sisters? Or is it our dreadfully convoluted interpretation of a Son who calls for peace-on-earth while we accept the murder of innocents and non-innocents alike (within the Main Streets of Rhode Island and Alabama to the deserts of Darfur and Iraq) on a daily basis?
Or is there more than all of this??? Something absolute and beautiful and true and not permanently stained by the injustice of our own fucked-up interpretations???
Perhaps Nickel Creek is right … “the truth is a bitter friend” …
But despite tonight’s rant, I still believe in the God of peace and joy and love … with the usual doubts of course.
As always … Peace and Love to you. (And thanks for putting up with the rant.)
_______________________
doubting thomas by nickel creek
- you can hear it by clicking their myspace page (it’s the last song on the list)
- just an fyi – nickel creek IS NOT a Christian band … just a really cool indie band influenced by bluegrass
- and this is one of my favorite songs by them
“what will be left when i've drawn my last breath,
besides the folks i've met and the folks who know me,
will i discover a soul saving love,
or just the dirt above and below me,
i’m a doubting thomas,
i took a promise,
but i do not feel safe,
oh me of little faith,
sometimes i pray for a slap in the face,
then i beg to be spared 'cause i'm a coward,
if there's a master of death i'll bet he's holding his breath,
as i show the blind and tell the deaf about his power,
i'm a doubting thomas,
i can't keep my promises,
'cause i don't know what's safe,
oh me of little faith
can i be used to help others find truth,
when i'm scared i'll find proof that its a lie,
can i be lead down a trail dropping bread crumbs,
that prove i'm not ready to die,
please give me time to decipher the signs,
please forgive me for time that i've wasted,
i’m a doubting thomas,
i'll take your promise,
though I know nothin's safe,
oh me of little faith”
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
chuggachuggachugga: not-so-clear skies
I can't help but post this article from The Onion. It was in a recent issue, but apparently appeared in a previous issue as well. Enjoy!
I'm A Cloud Factory!
Peace.
Oh, and chuggachuggachugga ... you'll see what that means!
I'm A Cloud Factory!
Peace.
Oh, and chuggachuggachugga ... you'll see what that means!
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