Something gracious

[creative commons image from Ottoman42]

Alternative title: Oh shit... (grace)

(I accidentally hit "publish" before changing the title, but both apply, really.)

A week ago I helped out with worship at a conference that the Metro DC Synod of the ELCA was putting on for ministry among young adults (check out their website here-- it looks pretty good). Once again, my anxieties about "church people" were eased by really engaged, thoughtful, nice people (what a concept... I probably need to start making that my expectation). The worship was shaped around the Pentecost experience of the Spirit breaking in on the scene and messing us up in all of the good ways: joining our perfectly comfortable (if complacent) dry bones into one crazy, beautiful, living body; breathing in new ideas about worship and leadership; and "renewing the face of creation"-- always creating, re-creating, making sure that apathy and entropy don't have the last word.

A lot of really great things happened, some very beautiful. A pastor who has been without a job for a while read the story of Ezekiel prophesying new life to dry bones with such magnificent weight to her voice. During prayer, a man gave thanks for the diversity of the church, and for a few moments I was sure that I would start crying. As we received communion there wasn't any music; instead, the walls resounded with the soft, holy murmur of "The body of Christ, broken for you" and "The blood of Christ, shed for you." At one point we even re-wrote Psalm 104:24-35b and volunteers came up for each verse so that our re-reading was a crazy-quilt of folks striving to keep the faith. (Mine is below.)

I still have a lot of doubts about whether or not I belong in the Lutheran Church-- whether I could ever get used to conservative worship, whether I would need to throw out the insights from my Presbyterian Book of Confessions and claim to believe a single word of the Athanasian Creed. And, of course, I shouldn't kid myself-- the ELCA is most likely going to split over human sexuality soon, and it has the same problems of the other mainline churches: decreasing financial security, traditionalism, and trouble reaching out to young adults. But then again, last Saturday I brushed shoulders with people that have a yearning to follow the leadings of the Spirit, wild and free and wise-- the same Spirit who, as Peter in Acts quotes from the prophet Joel, is poured out on both old and young alike.

If anyone's interested, DC Young Adults is having a Happy Hour on Monday discussing one of Luther's favorite pickles: Law and Gospel. Some folks from Mason and I are going, and if you're in the area it would great to see you there, too. Details and such can be found at the facebook event.

Here's my re-write of psalm 104:24-35b. You can find another version, as well as another reflection of the conference, at Ben Buss' blog: A Musing Revolutheran.

²⁴ Looking around me, God, the world is full of wonders that you have made, and the crazy thing is that all of these people around me and all of the geological features and the animals and the oceans—All of them—are in tune to your deep Wisdom. Every one of them belongs.

²⁵ Wherever “over there” is, I’m blown away by the incredible diversity of life. In the ocean, in the rain forest, on a college campus—innumerable ways of living your Wisdom.

²⁶ Ships and cars travel water and road, and beyond them people run, walk, bicycle, dance, skip, and swim.

²⁷ All of this is dependent on you, your grace (whether we know it or not) preserves us and pervades us.

²⁸ And what a grace it is! Whenever I see it, your gift freely offered in laughter, in vulnerability, in courage, in celebration, I am filled to the brim with joy.

²⁹ And yet too many times your face is hidden, God. Where are you? I am dismayed at your absence in injustice, in destruction, in disease that withers the ones I love.

³⁰ Send forth your Spirit, God! Renew the whole of creation, give us all—people and animals, forests and oceans—new vitality.

³¹ So may your love and power echo throughout the universe, Oh God, you who rejoice in this festivity of wonder!

³² You, Oh God, are the One who can shift our lives as the earth shifts; our lives are not placid, but on the edge of volcanic possibilities.

³³ So, with all of this ringing in my heart and mind, I will sing to you, O God, as long as I have breath in my lungs

³⁴ May this rambling reflection please, God, for it is in the Eternal One whom I rejoice.

^35b Shout the good news of God’s covenanting love, O my soul, now and forever!

Mourning George Tiller

[Creative Commons photo from graciepoo]

I'm coming to realize more and more how central food is connected to ritual. Beyond birthday cakes and insisting on ham for Christmas (back when I still ate ham), food is necessary for healing (soup, chocolate, tea), celebrating change (french toast for Obama's inauguration) and mourning. People just keep dying, you know? When I found out that my friend Brittney committed suicide I felt compelled to do something life-affirming, and nourishing my friends and and myself with pancakes fit the bill. And today, when the murder of Dr. George Tiller took on a new weight for me, I went to work whisking up hot cocoa on the stove.

The horror of Dr. Tiller's death grew throughout the day. When I first read about it here (CNN report), I was struck by the vulnerability of being shot while serving as an usher in a church. Then the anger started to simmer, anger towards people who turn to violence in word and deed instead of dialogue-- because shooting someone is somehow better than civil discourse, individuals conversations, and arguing in a court of law. A classmate commented on my facebook status that there were protesters outside of that church every Sunday. What? Did they ever attempt dialogue? And I was reminded of a shooting last summer in which two people were killed at the Tennessee Valley Unitarian Universalist congregation, which had just put up a sign inviting LGBTQ people to worship. This is not a good trend...

Following a link that a friend had posted deepened my anger and sadness. Both the language of some of the commenters and of Dr. Leroy Carhart, a friend and colleague of Dr. Tiller, echoed with violence and extremism. For instance, one commenter wrote:

"When he stood before God at his death, he soon learned that he had made the wrong choice with his life. Now [he] is in the lake of fire for eternity with the devil and his demons. Tortured for all of eternity for the murders of innocent babies."

And, according to the article, Dr. Carhart

"calls the murder of his beloved colleague a 'terrorist' saying his friend's death is 'a declaration of war' on the part of radical anti-abortion activists whom he calls 'fundamentalist terrorists... no different from al-Qaida, the Taliban or any of them.'"

It isn't that I can't understand that there are very strong emotions attached to losing a dear friend or to those who perform partial birth abortions [correction: late term abortions]. But what rocks me is the implicit violence in their words, and how they don't seem to realize that this violence is the same. I mean, when I read their words, both say basically the same thing: that this Other person is evil, beyond any sort of redemption.

What drove me to hot cocoa, though, was when I looked at the website for Reformation Lutherans Church. I clicked around and when I wound up on the staff page, I saw that their senior pastor, Lowell Michelson, had been a student intern at the Lutheran Campus Ministry at the Ohio State University. Both of the Busses were active in LCM at OSU, so not really thinking I turned to Kriss Buss and asked her if she knew him. And then it sank in. "Lowell? Lowell Michelson?" She not only knew him from campus ministry, but she had met his family, she had held his kids. B-Buss had five of his CDs from his days with the band Echelon. Yeah, they knew him.

I'm re-reading Sara Miles' book Take This Bread, and last night--after sharing hot cocoa with Kriss, discussing a whole range of topics around violence and justice and sin and grace, and a couple rounds of MarioKart--I stumbled on one of many sparks of insight while reading before bed. Relaying the words of a bishop, Miles wrote:

"There's a hunger beyond food that's expressed in food, and that's why feeding
is always a kind of miracle."

So, I hope that the Tiller family and Lowell Michelson and the people of Reformation Lutheran Church have been surrounded by food full of love; maybe they've even been feeding each other. And I hope that the suspect, Scott Roeder, also has something to eat, maybe even offered in more parts grace than resentment or obligation. Because in lieu of everything being better, in lieu of a world where people aren't shot and where people's passion and anger can be channelled constructively and nonviolently, food is first thing I can think of that might begin to be a symbol, or even a sacrament, of healing. At least, that's what hot cocoa was for me.

If you're a person who prays, with words or meditations or cooking utensils, etc., please pray for all those caught up in this violence-- Dr. Tiller's family, the church, Scott Roeder, and anyone else who comes to mind.

I think I might be...

This is... something. Guess what Google suggests if you type "I think I might be" as your search...

Some of them make sense to me-- pregnancy, bisexuality, depression, even crazy. But, "I think I might be psychic"? Or, "I think I might be a sociopath"? Best one, though, is #9. "I don't sleep at night... pretty pale... Angel is my favorite character from Buffy... and I can't see my reflection. Good folks at Google, please help. I think I might be a vampire."

Someone has been obsessing over Twilight a little too much...

P.S. I was typing in "I think I might be Lutheran." I'm not exactly sure what that means or would mean, but I seem to be the biggest non-Lutheran fan of the ELCA around. Sure, a lot of non-Lutherans sign up with Lutheran Volunteer Corps, but how many apply to volunteer at the ELCA Youth Gathering? More thoughts on this later...

P.P.S. I don't think I blogged about my LVC placement yet. I'm going to work for Open Arms Minnesota, and it's going to be fantastic. More information from LVC is in the mail, so I'll be sure to report back with further developments (e.g. When I'm moving to Minneapolis!).

Dispatches from the end of the semester

[Photo from 2-Dog-Farm; this is what came up when I searched for "Ahhh!"]


This is the last week of classes, and I am afraid. I'm not nearly finished with everything. Even though I'm banking on somehow passing and graduating, I'm not really sure of what will happen.

So, to keep myself from despairing, here are some good things in life...

I've been accepted to the placement process for Lutheran Volunteer Corps!!! Yay!!! This is the phase of the process in which I interview
with three social justice/social service agencies and then LVC determines if I'll be placed with one of them. Here's the break-down, with blurbs from their websites (in no particular order):

• Open Arms Minnesota (Minneapolis, MN)-- "Open Arms of Minnesota offers a unique model of care for people in our community who are sick, need nutritious food, and have no where else to turn for assistance. We are the only nonprofit organization in the state that prepares and delivers free meals specifically tailored to meet the nutrition needs of individuals living with serious and life-threatening diseases. "
  
• Nativity House (Tacoma, WA)-- "Nativity House is Tacoma's only daytime drop-in shelter for the homeless. We offer a refuge from the dangers of the streets to all who come to our doors. Whether our guests need a meal, clothing, referrals to social services, or just a smile, the staff at Nativity House is there to provide it. Our mission is to create trusting relationships with our guests, so that they may be challenged to greater life."
  
• Our Savior's Housing (Minneapolis, MN)-- "Our Saviour’s Housing began as a program of Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in south Minneapolis in the winter of 1982. The basement of the church was opened to provide a warm space for people seeking shelter from harsh weather. Today, Our Saviour’s Housing is a program of Our Saviour’s Outreach Ministries and operates two forms of housing, overnight emergency shelter and transitional housing."

I'll be finished with the interviews by May 4th, but I won't hear back from LVC until the 14th.

Here's some other random goodness that I've stumbled up recently:

I met this really neat guy on the Interwebs whom I would really like to meet in the Outerwebs (has anyone coined this yet? this could be my claim to fame!), but he isn't going to be in DC this summer because he is biking across the U.S. spreading support for Alzheimer's research. Really! He and some friends are going to be travelling to nursing homes and elderly care centers and signing for the folks with dementia there, collecting memories and wisdom in return. They're calling it The Unforgettable Journey (do you see the play on words? isn't he/aren't they brilliant?), and you can check out their website here. Seriously consider donating something to their cause; it's beautiful, but also a little crazy, and they could use all the help they can get.

Check out this post that Philip Clayton wrote for the Plurality 2.0 series that Adam Walker Cleaveland has running over at Pomomusings. Among many insightful essays, his stuck out to me. Maybe it was his grasp on how we have "interwoven identities."

I've re-discovered what a mind-blowingly fabulous cover of Jai Ho the Pussycat Dolls have done. Apparently someone else has, too, since embedding be disabled for their video on YouTube. Look at it here and dance. Seriously, dance.

I'm looking forward to the upcoming first episode of The God Complex: where fully divine runs smack dab into fully human, the internet radio show hosted by Presby rock stars/geeks Carol Howard Merritt and Bruce Reyes-Chow. Listen for it at 12 noon on May 4th. I'm a little bummed that I won't be able to listen live since I'll be in an LVC interview, but I'm looking forward to some really insightful and silly conversation about what's happening in church and society. It looks like Decently and in Order has gone fallow, so God Complex is filling a void in my life (yes, that's "a" void-- no scintillating words about faith and practice could fill the other void in my life for good Mexican food. Or the void reserved for graduating. I'm very void-ful, apparently).

Right, 4:50am. Let's spell check this and hit publish. Grace and peace and good morning, y'all!

He is going ahead of you

⁵As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. ⁶But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. ⁷But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’

Mark 16:1-7

I have good news! Which is desparately important right now, because honestly  this really hasn't been a good news semester. Acknowledging that there has been some pretty amazing opportunities to proclaim and hear good news this semster (e.g. working in Costa Rica, travelling to the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, planning and leading worship for Pride Week, and giving hip-gyrating thanks for the drag show), I've been feeling a growing sense of ennui, even despair. It's affecting my work, my grades, my relationships, as well as my sense of wellbeing. I've felt stuck, confined in a tomb, slowly fading out from depression. And last Sunday's reminder of the glory and promise of the resurrection of Christ and of all creation wasn't a magic fix. While moments of resurrection and new life still roll away the stone, exiting the tomb is a much harder process. 

In two of the three Easter sermons I heard last Sunday (yes, it was a triathlon of worship services), the preachers used Mark's text to comment that Christ is not in the tomb, but is ahead of us in the future. "He is going ahead of you to Galilee" is Mark's way of affirming the same the truth that Matthew later made famous: "I am with you always, to the end of the age" (Matthew 17:20b). But there is a sense of urgency and motion in Mark: don't stay here, in the place of death, because Christ is alive and waiting in Galilee for us to meet him. I appreciate the kick in the butt-- that's the kind of good news that wakes me up and gives me something to hold onto, hope that isn't based on some kind of heaven but rather on doing the faithful work of Christ as God bring heaven down to earth.

So here's the really concrete good news: Today I received an email congratulating me on my acceptance to the Lutheran Volunteer Corps placement process! LVC is a national service program that works with social justice organizations by supplying them with on-year volunteers. Volunteers live simply and sustainably in community, and spend time working for peace with justice and reflecting on the intersections of ethics and spirituality and their work. They are marvelous people. For example, when I applied last month they asked me to write answers to questions such as: "What is the relationship between racism and social justice?"; "What actions will you take to build an atmosphere that is open, supportive, safe, and affirming specifically for people who are GLBT?"; and "Why does poverty exist in the United States?" I swear, I did a double take. This program could not be that awesome. Oh, but it was. And even though the application process was loooong and the phone interview an hour and a half, I had a lot of good energy around it. And now I have more.

It's simultaneously odd and comforting to feel certainty about what I will do over the next year and not about how the next month will proceed (even the next week...). I don't want to live in the future in a negative way that denies the potential of the present, of course, and I owe it to myself to do what I can to finish the semester healthy in body, mind, and spirit. Still, though, I feel as though someone has just assured me that I am not going to stay "stuck" forever, but will continue on eventually to wherever Christ has gone ahead and is doing the work of resurrection, inviting me to join.

P.S. Here's a really neat piece that Greg Carey, a New Testament professor at Lancaster Theological Seminary, posted on his excellent blog NT Geeks. I wouldn't be surprised if he wrote it himself, since he's pretty fantastic:

A hole, hewn from rock.
A hole in the heart of the world.
One empty.
The other bursting forth with life.

Amen.

You are in I-OH-WAY

[image from haanm2, from Council Bluffs, where my parents live]

"Our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain"

~Iowa State Motto

Did you hear the news? Today, Friday, the Iowa Supreme Court ruled unanimously in favor of legalizing civil marriage for same-sex couples!

I'm a little shocked. Technically, since I'm still a dependent of my parents until I file my taxes next year, I am resident of the Hawkeye State. What does this mean? I've never thought of myself as an Iowan, but does this mean I have access to legal protection that my friends in Virginia don't have? Of course, I suppose it would only count in Iowa, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.

The thing to do now is to not let a constitutional amendment dash these new-born rights against the rocks of heterosexism (why, yes, that was a biblical allusion). Keep your eyes peeled for mention of anything like this entering the state legislature.

For more information, check out these articles on Feministing and the New York Times.

P.S. Y'all got the reference to "The Music Man," right? I can't find a video of it, or else I would post it.

Presbterian Bloggers: Why I Love (Lutheran) Campus Ministy

This post is a part of Presbyterian Bloggers Unite, a project initiated by Moderator Bruce Reyes-Chow. This month's topic is campus ministry. Next month's topic is poverty. I figure that as a Presby-in-exile I can throw in my two cents.

"Y'all see this bandana?" I hold up a rainbow, tye-dye bandana, covered in smiley-faces and peace symbols, and waive it in the direction of Ben Buss, the Lutheran Campus Minister at George Mason University. "That man over there in the green shirt gave it to me. If y'all haven't met him yet, you really should. He's a force to be reckoned with."

The reason I was embarrassing Ben in front of fifty or so people last Tuesday was that he had shown up to our Pride Week celebration of allies, and I couldn't let the opportunity to thank him (and embarrass him) pass me up. Ben Buss is the person responsible for convincing me to give campus ministry at Mason a second chance, and so he deserves a lot more thanks than that. Maybe I'll bake him a cake.

So, how did I, a cradle Presbyterian and someone for whom my Reformed identity is an important piece of my story, end up participating Lutheran Campus Ministry? I'm sure someone out there is wondering why I didn't connect with a Presbyterian church's ministry (incidentally, I frequent the pews of the Metropolitan Community Church of Northern Virginia) or even with the ecumenical Protestant ministry at Mason, for which the National Capitol Presbytery is one of its biggest sponsors. The answer is, in some ways, lies in my complicated relationship with the institutional church. In other ways, the answer is that it was incidental: I didn't connect, for whatever reasons of scheduling, interest, and experience. The fact that the PC(USA) hasn't figured out how to honor the baptisms of its LGBTQ members probably contributed, although I recognize that isn't a particularly grace-filled thing to say. That lack of recognition certainly turned me away from Campus Crusade for Christ, an organization with which I was involved for a couple of years.

I left Cru my junior year, and didn't intend to return to campus ministry. I was heavily involved in my local church, and I had made peace with the fact that seeking out Christian community at Mason was a lost cause. Besides, I found enough "beloved community" with Pride Alliance, Mason's student org that celebrates and connects with people of all genders, sexualities, orientations and expressions. I experienced-- and still do see-- my leadership and participation in Pride as my way to minister to people, creating a safe space where people can experience life abundant. As Ben Buss says, God is loose in the world, and from my vantage point the Spirit was definitely stirring up love and justice among the folks at Pride.

I met Ben almost serendipitously. We have a mutual friend, Rachael Dickson, who gave my name to Ben's wife, Kriss, so that she could contact me about a project on LGBTQ college students for one of her social work classes. In my answers to her questions, I mentioned that we didn't have any LGBTQ-affirming ministry on campus besides the witness of the good people at Hillel, and she had me meet Ben. At that time, January 2008, Ben was leading a discussion group on Fridays using "The Gospel according to the Simpsons," and even though I went once or twice I didn't really think of Lutheran Campus Ministry as part of my life. Then, in March, Ben sent me a message that went something like this: "We're registering to be a Reconciling In Christ organization [which in the Lutheran church family is their LGBTQ-affirming program], and I was wondering if you could give me some feedback about this affirmation of welcome I wrote."

After that it wasn't hard for Ben to convince me to join the planning team for a weekly creative worship service. All he had to do was ask.

The creative Christian worship services-- dubbed 747 because of their time slot, 7:47pm on Wednesdays-- are a collaboration between Lutheran Campus Ministry and United College Ministries, the ecumenical Protestant group, which sometimes makes me shake my head in bemusement. Here I am: a Presby-in-exile, who attends an MCC and is working with and loving Lutherans, in contact with Presbyterians again. Sometimes this odd amalgamation of religious identities that I carry around seems freakish to me. But then, the more stories I hear, I've begun to suspect that this is how most college students operate: we've come to this place via a multitude of traditions, and we either claim non-denominational or multi-traditional identities. In some ways, emergent is the best way to describe where I am and what we're doing in 747-- something creative and life-giving is coming out the collaboration of pilgrims and the Spirit loose in the world.