Monthly Archives: March 2011

Perfection, I quit you

Back in the office now after the Big Event 4.0, a RevGalBlogPals continuing education event, I’m a little overwhelmed by all I learned. I’m trying to absorb, to let things settle into my guts, but it’s hard to do as I run full tilt into Ash Wednesday.

I met women whom I’d only previously “known” through their blogs. I laughed, cried, pondered, and wondered how to bring this good news back, to translate these lessons of hope and grace, how to make change into freedom.

And I’m still jet-lagged.

I had hoped to do another complete month of blogging upon my return, but I missed two days because I was tired and nothing I typed made sense. (This may well still be the case.)

So, I was catching up on my podcasts and I heard this poem on The Writer’s Almanac for 27 February and now I know what to give up for Lent.

Perfection, Perfection

(“I will walk the way of perfection.” Psalm 101:2)

I have had it with perfection.
I have packed my bags,
I am out of here.
Gone.

As certain as rain
will make you wet,
perfection will do you
in.

It droppeth not as dew
upon the summer grass
to give liberty and green
joy.

Perfection straineth out
the quality of mercy,
withers rapture at its
birth.

Before the battle is half begun,
cold probity thinks
it can’t be won, concedes the
war.

I’ve handed in my notice,
given back my keys,
signed my severance check, I
quit.

Hints I could have taken:
Even the perfect chiseled form of
Michelangelo’s radiant David
squints,

the Venus de Milo
has no arms,
the Liberty Bell is
cracked.

“Perfection, Perfection” by Kilian McDonnell, from Swift, Lord, You Are Not. © Saint John’s University Press, 2003. Reprinted with permission. (Permission for The Writer’s Almanac only). 

Friday Five: Lent Edition

lent12367083783.gif.pngFrom RevGalBlogPals, kathrynzj writes: This Friday Five posts the day after my return from a phenomenal BE 4.0 experience. I am so thankful for the women who pursued the idea of this virtual community, continue to keep it vital and active and had a vision of creating space to meet in real life (irl) and made that happen too!

Because of the lateness of Easter this year the end of our BE time together has dropped us off on the cusp of Lent. My calendar taunts me with the schedule I’m supposedly going to keep. There are extra Bible studies, evening gatherings and worship services all crammed into a six week period of reflection and contemplation (ha!). But there are some things I truly love about the season of Lent even if I don’t get in as much reflection and contemplation as I would like.

What about you? What are some things you appreciate about the season of Lent? Perhaps you would share 5 of them with us. And for your bonus question feel free to share one thing you could do without.

I’m sitting in the Seattle airport and awaiting the last leg of my trip home. I’m trying to think about a sermon for Transfiguration, the layout of a children’s service and the opening questions to start a Lenten series on prayer. A little Lenten reflection seems just the thing to get some of the Spirit connection flowing. 

In Lent, I appreciate: 

1. Songs in a minor key. I’m a first soprano, so there’s very little that’s beyond the range of my voice in the high-pitched Easter/Christmas hymnody, but Lent lets me put aside my Jessye Norman and channel my inner Mahalia Jackson. Nothing thrills me like the rolling of “Come Ye Disconsolate” or the gentle slant of “Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross”. I wish we sang some of these more often because their message of consolation is gracious and true, but we tend to look for things to be a little more upbeat during the rest of the church year. (And how can a hymn become a classic unless we sing it?) (And, for the record, I’m only Jessye or Mahalia in my head.)

2. The absence of Hallelujahs. The fasting makes me look forward to the feast at the resurrection celebration. It’s worth considering how often we say “hallelujah” and what it really means.

3. The focus on the body. Too frequently, our spiritual practice doesn’t line up with our physical selves. However, in Lent, a time of fasting, coming together more frequently, ashes, death and anticipation of life to come- we cannot escape (I think) the connection between the mutual salvation of our bodies AND our souls. God created, loves and saves both. We may not understand the resurrection of the body, but our hope for it reminds us that God does not despise our physical selves. 

4. The appearance of fish sandwiches. I wouldn’t eat a fast food fish sandwich if you paid me, but I love when they suddenly appear on the advertising boards. I assume they’re there because someone somewhere remembers the idea of “fish fridays”. It makes me remember that a holiday (in this case, Easter) can become very secular, but the religious aspects sneak in around the edges. I also like surprises about people who observe or remember Lent. One Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), I mentioned to my Starbucks baristo that I was giving up my drink for Lent. He said, “See you at Easter!” 🙂 

5. The chance to do something different in worship. I learned that if you want to try to introduce something new, give it a whirl during Advent or Lent. You’ll get a feel for reactions and then be able to make a decision at the end of the season. One year, I moved the baptismal font toward the door of the church, symbolizing entrance to the community, for the season of Lent. On Easter Sunday, I received no less than 5 requests that it remain there. And so it does, 2 years later. 

I could do without pretending that Easter hasn’t happened. Even in Lent, we remain Easter people, people living in the post-resurrection light and hope. I don’t like to pretend like that hasn’t occurred. I like to use the phrase, “As we await the Easter celebration…”

Latibule

I like words and I recently discovered Save the Words, a website which allows you to adopt words that have faded from the English lexicon and are endanger of being dropped from the Oxford English Dictionary.

When you adopt a word, you agree to use it in conversation and writing in an attempt to re-introduce said word back into regular usage.

It is exactly as geeky as it sounds.

And I love it.

A latibule is a hiding place.


Use it in a sentence, please.

After my son goes to bed, I pull out the good chocolate from my latibule and have a “mommy moment”.
The perfect latibule was just behind the northwest corner of the barn, where one had a clear view during “Kick the Can”.
She tucked the movie stub into an old chocolate box, her latibule for sentimental souvenirs.

I like the sound of latibule, though I think I would spend more time defining it and defending myself than actually using it. Come to think of it, I’m not really sure how often I use the word “hiding”, so the occasions for working latibule into conversation are probably few and far between.

Nevertheless, it’s worth thinking about words and their lifespan. They come into being and are used for a few years or decades or centuries and then fade away.

In a book I was reading recently, the author used the words “forestall” and “pitfall” in their medieval contexts. When people were lined up on market day, occasionally they would conduct their business in the line and then leave. This was “forestalling”- they did the business before they reached the stalls, thus depriving someone (somewhere) of the taxes or additional profits from the sale or trade. A pitfall was dug between opposing armies, probably under the cover of night, so that the charging army would stumble or fall during a charge at the light of day.

Those words are used in entirely different contexts today. (But they’re still in use, unlike poor latibule.)

Can words be “saved”? (A unique use of that word on this blog.)

Should they be?

We know that our language evolves based on usage, changing definitions, and different linguistic needs. And other parts of our lives do as well.

There is no latibule big enough to keep change out, away or from happening. How do we handle it?

Is there anything that doesn’t change?

Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever. Hebrews 13:8

There’s no latibule to keep him out either.

Freedoms

Today the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) released its decision in Snyder vs. Phelps. The case featured the father of a fallen Marine (Snyder) who claimed distress when members of the Westboro Baptist Church (Phelps) held a protest rally of sorts at the funeral of his son. WBC holds signs that say “God hates f*gs” and “Thank God for Dead Soldiers”. Snyder asserted that their presence at the funeral caused emotional damage to him.
I have no doubt that it did. I have NO doubt that it did. Even if he barely noticed them on the day, but saw the footage later, I’m sure it only enflamed his grief and pain. I do think what Westboro does is morally wrong. It’s not considerate of others, it does not spread the love of Christ, it does not bring people into a deeper understanding of the grace of God (except inasmuch as God does not smite them, in my opinion).
However, what they do is not illegal. That’s the hard part, but that is the side on which the Supreme Court came down today.
The New York Times summarized the majority ruling, written by Justice John Roberts:

Chief Justice Roberts wrote that two primary factors required a ruling in favor of the church. First, he said, its speech was on matters of public concern. While the messages on the signs carried by its members “may fall short of refined social or political commentary,” he wrote, “the issues they highlight — the political and moral conduct of the United States and its citizens, the fate of our nation, homosexuality in the military and scandals involving the Catholic clergy — are matters of public import.”

Second, the members of the church “had the right to be where they were.” They were picketing on a public street 1,000 feet from the site of the funeral; they complied with the law and with instructions from the police, and they protested quietly and without violence.

“Any distress occasioned by Westboro’s picketing turned on the content and viewpoint of the message conveyed,” Chief Justice Roberts wrote, “rather than any interference with the funeral itself.”

All of that means, the chief justice wrote, that the protesters’ speech “cannot be restricted simply because it is upsetting or arouses contempt.”

This is a hard thing to swallow for many, many people. Angered and hurt by Westboro’s actions, people wonder if the law cannot do anything about them, who can? Many states have created buffer zones around funerals to attempt to prevent distress to families- a distance at which the protestors must stand. However, the people of the WBC were compliant with those rules in Maryland where the funeral took place.
There was a bit of a hubbub following the shootings in Arizona of a few weeks ago, in which there were rumors of the WBC protestors coming to the funerals of some of the victims. People in Tucson joined together and some planned to where outsized angel wings to block the views of the grieving families. WBC never showed.
I loathe what WBC does with the fire of a thousand suns. I hate that their behavior is extrapolated to churches in general. I detest that they prey upon situations of grief and distress. I thoroughly dislike the cultish nature of the church and completely disagree with their Scriptural interpretation.
But the First Amendment protects them. And I want it to, because I want it to protect me. If the SCOTUS begins to clamp down on the First Amendment rights of law-abiding citizens, even though their words hurt, then you or I or organizations we support could be next. We cannot allow our freedoms to be restricted because some people can’t handle them.
Roberts argues that Westboro’s signs bring up issues of public importance. That’s not the point. They could be carrying signs that “Jelly beans are better than spice drops” or “Down with Polyester Cruelty” or “Peace Now”. We would think they were amusing at best or kooks at worst, as long as they remained within the law.
Instead, they take advantage of media coverage and the gathering of people to spread inflammatory messages, but they’re not illegal.
If we stop them, we’re all in danger.
If we ignore them, they won’t go away.
If we try to reason with them, they will say that they KNOW they’re right.
So, instead, we must use our freedoms in the same way that they’re using theirs. People can gather to block the views of families. People can hold counter-protest signs. Choirs can gather and sing over their ranting.
Goodness is stronger than evil, but we don’t ask SCOTUS to uphold goodness. We ask them to uphold freedoms and so they have.
It’s up to the rest of us to exercise our freedoms with as much vigor as do those whose message we believe is wrong. 

Church

I’m at the Big Event 4.0 with the RevGalBlogPals and we’ve been discussing how to define “church”. As you may guess, most of us write blogs, among other things, and we’ve noted that our blog traffic isn’t limited to the people whom we see in our places of worship.
Knowing that we don’t want to limit our audience (really!), then we’ve been trying to figure out what to call the people with whom we converse through electronic media, but whom we do not see in the pews.
In other words, are the electronic spaces “church”? 
What is church?
There is something to be said for the face-to-face interaction, the bodily presence together, sacraments experienced in the flesh, the sharing and mutual hope for God’s peace.
On the other hand, there are people who have been hurt, who struggle with doubt, who cannot yet step into a sanctuary precisely because it does not provide sanctuary (as it were). Yet these brothers and sisters have something to contribute to the community of believers.
If we limit the definition of “church” to the space inside a building that occupies a specific address, that is too fine a point. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss the importance, even the longing for, interaction in person.
The Incarnation, that is God among us in Jesus, helps us to understand our need for interaction and congregation in the flesh. Even the most introverted among us longs, occasionally, for the consolation of company.
Electronic church is real and cannot be dismissed. The bounds of electronic church demonstrate the need for fellowship, collaboration, support, debate and exegesis that define some of the best parts of the Christian faith.
So many words in that last sentence need defining: exegesis, Christian, faith, fellowship. We argue about what they mean and does a particular word mean to me the same thing that it means to you?
And, I think, that’s one of the best definitions for church: a place where one gathers with others and knows the love and presence of God, through the indescribable means of conversation, shared burdens, and the Spirit.
Sometimes that happens in the church and sometimes church happens.