Feminary

The End.

2010-04-14T11:16:00.001-07:00

Feminary hasn't been updated in a very long time, but I felt I should give a final send-off so that the last post on here is an official farewell and close to the blog.

This was a wonderful outlet for me during my seminary years (and a little bit beyond), and I see it as an archive of that experience, but something that is far more an artifact now than a representation of where I am heading or who I am today.

Please enjoy the blog as an example of one person's journey as a female encountering the Evangelical seminary world. I continue to read the comments and I love to hear from people who are still finding the blog.

Feminary was my place to vent and to rejoice over what I encountered as a seminarian, intern, very brief PhD student, and new mom. It was also a record of a person who felt called to full-time ministry and was pursuing that aim. While I still feel that is my true calling, it has become clear that the path is blocked and is not what I will be doing with my life, at least for the foreseeable future, or as long as I stubbornly remain Episcopalian, anyway.

So...it is time to move on. Become someone else (which I have already done). I am more focused these days on my writing projects, including writing liturgical pieces for the clayfire project (check it out!) and working on articles - maybe even a book - about the spirituality of food & eating. Hopefully my poor neglected foodievangelist blog will be a place where I can hash out those ideas, so feel free to check in over there in the near future.

I'm sure I won't be out of the blogsophere forever. It's been good to me and I think I fit well here. I certainly have enjoyed meeting friends through this medium. And it's not like I lack for things to talk about. Ever. Now finding the time to sit at the computer, that's another story...

So anyway, wish me luck & send up prayers as I continue on in this crazy call to parent now TWO children, and continue writing stuff that hopefully will help people connect to God in their worship, and try to find a market for the food & Christianity ideas I have, and even teach a little for Fuller now & then (I've really come full circle there - and will admit I'm flabberghasted that they let me actually instruct others!).

It's been fun. I promise, this time, this is really the last post. Bye!

Preacher Mama

2009-10-12T13:31:00.000-07:00

Well last night was extremely interesting. And so Feminary. I was assigned to preach 5 mins at our worship service we're helping run at Church of our Savior, and then lead a discussion after, St. Gregory's style. I wrote what I thought was a very nice little sermon (I'll paste it below). But I guess I was thinking too much of my writing or preaching abilities, or something, because Somebody decided to take me down a few pegs. Well not really God, actually - my daughter. I was not two seconds into the thing when she decided to have a major meltdown of Biblical proportions. She'd never done this during a service before. J tried to remove her from the room, but she was screaming so loudly that everyone could still hear her a block away. I realized I was losing them fast, and I also couldn't keep it together (I was alternating between frantically trying to think of how to rescue my sermon and wanting to crack up at how ridiculous she was being - I did actually snort once, I believe).

Anyway, round about paragraph four, when I was about to start quoting Jesus re: little children (what a fortuitous choice of text!), I said, "Excuse me" and I walked out of the church and went and got Maggie, brought her back in, and finished the sermon holding her in my arms. That was that. And of course she totally behaved (except when she tried to grab the candle behind me at one point but several kind congregants yelled out before she got it).

It was totally not what I was hoping for, for my big return to preaching. But I guess it didn't bother anybody, from the comments I got afterwards. And although my perfectionist nature was disturbed, J said he almost could have thought it was all planned, that Maggie was my dramatic illustration of the text.

When I got to the end, about how crazy trusting you have to be as a child - how you have to completely throw yourself on the mercy of those around you - having a sniffling, but now content, baby in my arms was the perfect picture. I could not have planned that better.

So hats off to the kiddo. Guess she & God had that planned better than I did.

Anyway, here is what I intended to preach. I got through about 2/3 of it, skipping a lot of the middle section (the depressing stuff anyway, ha ha), and focusing on the bits about being like a child. Enjoy.

Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age--houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions--and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.” [Mark 10:29-31, NRSV]

Leave your house, your family, your fields, for my sake and for the sake of the gospel, and you will receive it back – a hundredfold – now in this age.

Leaving your family meant losing your place in society, your inheritance, and really, your identity. Identity, in the first century, was not about your job, or where you lived or where you were from. It was based on whose child you were. Giving up family meant giving up your self.

Leaving house and fields means giving up your place in the world and your means to make a living. When Jesus suggests leaving family, house, and fields for his sake, he is saying you’ll lose your identity, your livelihood, your security, your home – all the things that make you who you are (or so you think).

This scene follows several gospel texts with a similar theme:

“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”

“Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”

I admit that as a new mom, I might be a little obsessed with children. But I don’t think I’m just seeing things here. Jesus is also a little bit obsessed with children, because they are one of the best ways, in first-century society, to explain the powerlessness and loss of self that must come with following his way. So, if you haven’t understood yet what Jesus means when he tells you to be like a child, here he is explicit: you have to give up everything that makes you who you are, that gives you security in this world – house, family, fields – everything that you rely on to take care of yourself.

The promise that goes with this sacrifice is that you will get it all back. Not the same, but more, a hundredfold, and in this age, to boot. But it will come to you Jesus’ way. He adds that little preposition: “with”, and a nasty noun: “persecutions.” The way of Jesus is the way of the one who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Getting it all back a hundredfold – your identity, your life’s work, your home – is not some kind of health-and-wealth joyride. It means living a tension-filled existence: one in which you look around and you know who you are, what you are to do, and where and to whom you belong, but you also are living that Kingdom reality in the midst of the present age, in which living Jesus’ way rains down persecution on your head. At best, you will simply be misunderstood, perhaps labeled “weird”, certainly thought of as confused as to what’s really important in life. You will not pursue the same goals as others: you will care less about the size of your house, the schools your children attend, the car you drive, the advancement of your career. At worst, you will be ostracized, humiliated, or even killed. You will almost certainly be poor. You may never have what others would consider security. But you will know what you have. You will know who you are. And you have a house, a family, and a life’s work. It is just under Kingdom jurisdiction.

This is what the rich man in the beginning of the story could not understand nor accept. Giving it all up. Not just your stuff, and your home, and your livelihood, and your family – but your security, your purpose, your identity, and your destiny.

I understand why the man walked away from Jesus. How can we do this? “Who has any chance at all?”

“Jesus was blunt: ‘No chance at all if you think you can pull it off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you let God do it.” [Mark 10:26-27, The Message]

God has to do it for us. God can handle the things we don’t understand, or fear, or are simply incapable of doing.

Maggie wakes up each morning and her breakfast magically appears. She doesn’t worry about what she will wear, or if there will be milk in her sippy cup. Confusion and insecurity are easily dealt with by grabbing Mommy’s leg. She knows she doesn’t need to be afraid, or worry, or even understand anything, as long as her parents are around.

This is what God wants to do for us. To be for us. Not just Lord, but Father. We have to become like a little child: that helpless, that trusting, that humble. And we must reframe our thinking so that we can be happy with the “house, family, and fields” of the Kingdom. That’s our challenge.

You don’t need a house because the whole creation is your home. Your “fields” are those in which the harvest is ready, but the workers are few. Your life’s work is to sow the seed of the gospel. As for family, the Father has adopted you, and your identity is now determined by whose child you are.

Your home, your security, your identity: back, a hundredfold, now. And in this age – and in the age to come – eternal life.

Why I Don't Pray (Killing the Buddha)

2009-10-09T09:04:00.001-07:00

This puts into words how I've been feeling for a good long while.

Why I Don't Pray from Killing the Buddha

Shared via AddThis

The System Will See You Now

2009-09-29T19:26:00.000-07:00

It’s practically a cliché by now: I’m over-educated and under-employed. Now for me, it’s pretty much by choice: I recently had my first child and I want to stay home to care for her. My husband, however, is also highly educated, and he does want to work. But in the current economy, that’s not happening, so we find ourselves in an interesting situation.

We have, between us, three master’s degrees and a doctorate (almost). We both come from low-income families; my husband, the one who’s almost a PhD, was only the second in his family to go to college. We are the American Dream. But we also, to our great surprise, find ourselves navigating the world of Social Services (detrimentally known as welfare). The worst part of this scenario is that we aren’t stupid. We can’t just accept what we’re told. We are, in fact, so smart that we see how incredibly ridiculous this entire system really is. We see the waste, the holes, the fraud, and the punishment doled out not to those who won’t help themselves, but to those who, like us, are trying to maintain responsibility, respectability, and honesty.

We tried to be responsible. Knowing the layoff was coming, we saved like never before. Although hubby had the best paying job of his life, we continued living in a 400-sq-foot apartment and spending frugally so that we would have savings to get through what we assumed would be about six months of unemployment. That has now turned into a year, a month, and counting.

Because our unemployment income was too low to qualify for the state’s Healthy Families program, I applied for no-cost Medi-Cal to cover my daughter (age 1). But I was told by a social worker: “It’s a waste of time for you to apply right now because of your savings. Go spend it down, then come back and see us.” Yes, I was told, go waste whatever security you have in your bank account, so that you can get your one-year-old some health insurance.

We had too much money in our savings account to qualify for Medi-Cal, even though our income fit the guidelines. And we had too little income to qualify for Healthy Families, which will not count the savings as an asset.

This is a black hole to which we will return.

What nobody told us is that if you plan ahead and try to be responsible, it comes back to bite you. In the world of welfare, you’re not expected to have had any foresight – nor any discipline around money – and therefore having savings immediately disqualifies you from most programs. I can see how if, say, you were a trust fund baby with no job, trying to get Medi-Cal, this could be abused – but honestly, has that ever happened? Instead, we lived off our savings, and we could not apply for insurance for our daughter until every last cent of it was gone.

I then had the distinct lack of pleasure to spend several mornings at the Department of Social Services office. This is, surely, one of the circles of hell, filled with a completely confused clientele growing more agitated by the minute, and well-meaning but ultimately clueless employees. Once a manager came out and made the following announcement: “We do not make the decisions about your services. The System makes the decisions. We only enter your information. The computer makes the decisions. We only submit what you give us to the System.”

Big Brother, anyone?

Half the time I couldn’t get questions answered because, really, the employees only know how to put the numbers into “the System”, which then spits out a “yes” or a “no”. They couldn’t even tell me the income ranges for which my child might qualify for health insurance. It’s all in a mysterious computer somewhere. A computer my intelligent brain would seriously like to hack. [I did eventually find the numbers online, but it was not easy – and the social worker was not gonna give them up.]

After spending way too many hours of my life in this soul-sucking place, I eventually learned that “the System” had figured that we make too much money – on unemployment – to qualify for free Medi-Cal for our daughter. Now, we have employer-based health insurance in this country. So wouldn’t it make sense that the income limits set by the government for low-income health coverage (at least for kids!) should match up to unemployment income, to cover those without jobs? And I’m not talking about getting health insurance for my husband or me – I only want it for my daughter, at this point. But the monthly income limit is $2,030 for a child ages 1-5; our unemployment compensation is $450 per week. But wait, you say, that is only $1,950 a month, isn’t it?

Ah, that’s what we thought. But then the economy tanked and the federal government, in a gesture of goodwill, started putting an extra $25 a week into our checks. And bam, just like that, we got stimulated out of Medi-Cal (we are exactly $29 over the monthly income limit, and only because of the stimulus money). I would personally rather not have the extra hundred bucks a month – or even have it cut in half – so that my daughter could have health insurance.

So fine. We are not happy about this, but we will deal. The state has Healthy Families, right? And it’s only like four bucks a month, so we can totally swing that. On the advice of our social worker, then (by the way, every time I say “our” and “social worker” in the same sentence, I cringe), we apply.

The letter arrives from Healthy Families, and I eagerly open it, ready for the whole ordeal to be over, for my daughter to finally resume her well-child visits and immunizations, and…it says No. You can’t get Healthy Families.

Why not?

Oh, because your income is too low. You should be applying for Medi-Cal, silly people. So we have kindly sent your application over to them for you.

(insert scream-into-pillow here)

Here’s what I found out: Healthy Families will only look at your check stubs as proof of income. And for some completely insane reason, our unemployment check stubs (and award letter) say we are paid $450 per week. The “stimulus” of $25 is in the check, and the stub says the check “includes a stimulus payment” – but the amount, per the stub, is $450, not $475 (while the attached check for two weeks is for $950, not $900).

I say to them: “But we make $475 a week. Medi-Cal figured our income at $2,059 a month.”

They say: “We can only go by the check stub.” Can you look at a copy of the check? “No, only the stub.” But how can we make too much money for Medi-Cal and not enough for Healthy Families, when your income guidelines are consecutive dollar amounts? “Oh, it happens all the time.”

I bet it does. Only usually it’s the problem with the assets that I mentioned above. We don’t have any assets anymore (having “spent them down” – for nothing, I might add). We simply have a case where the government has upped the ante of the stupidity to levels previously unimaginable by folks like us. We believe in the system – heck, we’re still in favor of a public option, even after all this (because as awful as this has been, we’ve been flat-out denied by privates) – but when we can see the problems, and explain how ridiculous they are, and we are still told that “the System” makes the decisions or Healthy Families has to toe the “check stub” line…well, let’s just say I start to understand why people shoot up post offices.

I’m now working another System – I’ve gotten my state assemblyperson’s office on the case. We’ll see if they can cut through the red tape that is choking me.

You cannot understand the hellish mire of the social services system until you have attempted to navigate it, and the vast majority of those with power in this country have never and will never do so. I wrote this because I know there are others – probably thousands of others – like us, losing their minds because of how asinine and wasteful the system is. But because we are Educated, and Middle Class (ha), we tend to be too embarrassed to talk about these things publicly.

Well, I guess I have no shame. No, scratch that: I have no choice. Somebody has to speak out about this. And that has to be an over-educated, under-employed person. Because honestly, who else would have faced this – and figured it out?

(I’m working on making this into an op-ed piece. I would appreciate feedback to improve it, and suggestions of where I might submit it for publication. Thanks!)

I'm published!

2009-09-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

What started as an inquiry into this blog led to my contribution of a couple entries and now I am really pleased to say I am a published author, a contributor to the collection Jesus Girls: Growing Up Female and Evangelical, edited by Hannah Notess, out now from Wipf & Stock. (I'm still thinking it's a mistake but I guess when I see my name in the book I'll have to recant)

Thank you to everyone who's kept reading over the years. It's given me the confidence to try for such crazy things. Who knows....maybe more to come...?

Down to business, a few relevant links: press release and purchase info

Please spread the word!

Is it just the greener grass?

2009-09-01T16:24:00.000-07:00

Hey there.

I won't ever retire this blog completely because I need a place to write some thoughts sometimes. At least most of the readers are probably long gone, so I can regain that sense of anonymity that I once had. Well, except for my big 'ol picture over there.

So here's what's weird: I actually miss several things about living up north. Most of all, and I really didn't expect this, I miss our church. And totally shockingly, J does too. He of the nonstop critique. He of the rant all the way home every week. He of the "I don't feel welcome here b/c I'm not liberal enough." Yes. Him. He actually wishes we were still going to St. Gregory's. And so do I.

I guess it's like you spend a year at this place that's so experimental and while there are flaws and annoyances, at least it's very alive and pretty much everybody's really happy to be there and enthusiastic to participate. And then you come back to these churches that are...well, there is no other word for it: they are boring. I mean, I didn't think they were, until I got sucked into St. G's culture. Now I can't deal with mumbled half-hearted liturgical prayers, or priests who are practically yawning while breaking the bread, or parishioners with eyes glazed over. My butt hurts when I'm in church here. There's far too much sitting. I miss dancing. Hell, I miss just standing up. And I mean, you do stand, in our services, in the regular TEC services...but still, not enough. And there's no color, and no costumes, and no life. I mean, there's life. Sure, I never would have gotten into it if there weren't. But even though St. G's drove me up the wall in so many ways, I was also drawn so strongly into the style and the culture that now I feel like a fish out of water. I can't abide "normal" church. Not any kind, not Evangelical or Episcopalian. I've tried regular ol' prayer book services, super high-church anglo-catholic liturgy, and alternative pseudo-Evvie church (i.e. one guy singing/talking for the vast majority of the time while our butts get sore). None of it is fitting anymore.

Man, I almost feel like I did when I was ready to abandon the church altogether, right before we transitioned into TEC. So much of loving your church, it turns out, isn't about the liturgy and the worship at all (despite my best efforts to nail down the magic that makes it work). It's the people. Of course. It's all about the freaking people.

And I loved my people up north. I didn't realize it until now. I was so anxious to get back home to LA that I didn't notice a new home was taking up residence in my heart. But it's not just them, either; it's also the people who made the church down here my home. So many of them are gone, moved on, retiring, or just too busy. It's not the same place anymore. Not much has changed on the outside (actually that's not true - a new building project has completely changed the outside, but I mean the worship), but the soul has shifted somehow.

And it's not just going to church. It's the Food Pantry. I miss it like there's a hole in my gut. That was really my church, you know. When the Sunday folks drove me nuts I knew I had a congregation to go to on Friday that would embrace me. And vice versa. It's just depressing to work at the food distribution here. It's so paltry, and so disorganized. Yeah, it's probably a lot like the FP was when it started. But I'm not Sara Miles, and I don't think I have the heart, conviction, or frankly time (her baby was a lot older than mine when she started) to make the lightning strike down here. It was such a grounding thing for me, such an incredible high (I realize that's a weird paradoxical observation). Plus I really miss the food, in all honesty. I miss being fed - in all ways - by that place.

And I had veteran mama mentors up there. Down here, my friends are all figuring it out with me or I'm the supposed vet. I mean, there's one great friend who's got a two year old, but even that, it's too close to my own predicaments. I had these women up there: the one who showed me how to be a godly parent, the one who helped me brush stuff off and let me vent when I couldn't, even the one who guided me through the world of eco-parenting. I had people to ask about extended breastfeeding; about why I can't get pregnant again; about the phases Maggie goes through. And I feel like I have none of that anymore. I've lost them. I miss them. I need them.

It's especially hard because I want to be pregnant again so badly, and it's not happening, and it seems like all my friends here are preggo again without even trying (or they don't want to be at all, which is also unrelatable).

I even miss my house. I really miss its size. Especially the kitchen. And the two bedrooms. Through which you could actually walk. Currently my one bedroom is so full with a queen bed and a crib that you have to crawl across the bed to get from one side to the other. That's depressing. This house is cute and cozy and so damn stuffed that it will never feel like a grown-up house. It's more like living in a storage space.

And I'll admit it: I really, really miss the weather. Probably the smoke currently burning my eyes isn't helping, nor the week of 100+ temps.

So am I just a big baby who can never be happy with what she has? Am I doomed to always realizing what I had just a little too late?

Don't answer those, please.

Damn. Who would've thought we'd miss St. G's so much? And have so much trouble finding a place to fit in here, HERE in our home!? How can it be so hard? We are different people now, it's true: we are parents. The things we could do before we can't now; I'm sure our friends think we've become aliens. Or reverse vampires who are only really awake when the sun first comes up. I hate it that I can't stay awake past 9. But I wake up at 5. So I can't. I hate it that I can't go out for dinner at 7 pm, but that's my daughter's bedtime. I hate missing movies, and parties, and all manner of outings, because I have a baby and mostly because I'm so damn poor.

Oh. That's really what I miss.

I don't know why, because we didn't have more money up there. But somehow it was more secure. There was more in the savings. And our groceries were taken care of by the church. And there just seems to have been more free stuff to do. I had a cadre of other poor moms willing to run around with me doing free things. And FUN outings, not just sitting around houses. I am so grateful to have friends here with babies, but they are all so much more well off than us. They have houses, pools, cars with air conditioning. I feel like a stupid kid who doesn't have her act together. Maybe I'd be better off getting to know some of the parents at Fuller; at least they would be poor too. It really is very hard to be in such a different tax bracket than your friends. It makes you feel like an idiot a lot of the time. What is wrong with us? We have as much or more education than all of them! But apparently education can't ensure jack squat when it comes to income and employment. In fact, it kind of screws you, since you wind up with student loans that cost more than a house.

Anyway, I just needed to get some of these thoughts out. I needed to say out loud (?) how much I actually miss my church. And my pantry. And my friends. And my house. And maybe the whole area. I want to visit so much. But there's no way I can drive up there without a/c, and there's no way I can rent a car. So I'm stuck. Bum MER.

Well the child's awake so my musings will have to go back into my head now. At least I got a little out. Was starting to feel like I might explode.

Help for Hector?

2009-08-14T19:06:00.001-07:00

Feminary's coming out of retirement for this story: I've been following it for some time via my CDSP list-servs. Basically, the custodian of the school was laid off, along with several other staff members (including the director of admissions?!), at the end of last semester. Hector was 2 years from retirement. To say he was beloved of students and alumni is a gross understatement; rarely have I seen people rally around another human being as they have for Hector - to the point where these people, most of whom are in the ministry (and therefore not rich) have offered to pay his salary to get him to retirement (an offer the school turned down in fairness to the others who were also laid off, at least as far as I understand it).

Read this article from the Oakland Tribune, and if you can help at all, please let me know and I can put you in touch with his advocates. [I'm looking at you, Fuller people! :)]

http://www.insidebayarea.com/search/ci_13046329

[be sure to click on the pics to see the one of him accepting his service award from the Dalai Lama]

Special Request: Healthcare Note

2009-07-23T15:08:00.000-07:00

I know I said I was done with this blog but I posted the following note on Facebook and one commenter asked me to please post it here. I guess so it will be more widely seen or something (though I don't think this blog gets much face time anymore since it's all, you know, ended). Anyway, here's the note, enjoy - this one's for you, Matt.

Listening to all the news reports on the fight over Obama's healthcare plan is making me a little crazy. I realize that the president's plan might not be perfect. But at least the man is TRYING to provide an option for those of us who have none. Maybe it's socialized - gasp! - but in this case, it's necessary and important.

John pointed out the reality that when you are sick, it is like your house is on fire. There have been systems in which the fire department was privatized. When they showed up at your burning house, you had to pay them before they would put out the fire. If you didn't have the money, they'd just leave, and you had to deal with it - something way beyond your ability - on your own.

This put me in mind of my recent bout of mastitis. For the first 24 hours I didn't do anything about it, because it's relatively difficult for me to figure out what to do when I have an urgent problem on the weekend when the doctors aren't working. I finally decided to visit the urgent care.

After I was triaged and told to register, the receptionist was trying to look up my account (which was complicated b/c we just moved from No Cal Kaiser to So Cal Kaiser, which are not the same company). She told me that neither of my plans was effective. For a few terrifying moments, while she called member services and learned she was wrong, I actually had to consider what I was going to do if I didn't have insurance.

At that moment, I was running a fever of 103.5. My breast was bright red and hot to the touch, and bleeding. I could barely stand up and had chills. I was really, really sick. My body was on fire. I needed help, and I couldn't give myself the help I needed.

Mastitis is easily treated with a round of antibiotics. This medicine is entirely unaffordable without insurance (not to mention the doctor visit - and followups). But I had to stand there and ponder just going home and trying to "self-treat" a bacterial infection. Or go to the county ER and wait most of the night in pain and misery (with the baby up hours past her bedtime), after which I'd have been slapped with a bill we couldn't possibly afford right now (remember we are unemployed for nearly a year now).

I started to panic as I realized I had no idea what I was going to do. At that point you have to decide if the "fire" is bad enough that you should shell out money you don't have, or not use your rent money towards putting out the fire and risk it destroying you. In my case, the mastitis would have developed into abscesses, which would have required surgery cutting into my breast tissue to remove (plus a hospital stay of several days during which I could not nurse my child). This is what I would have had to choose whether to risk - without the option of even discussing it with a doctor.

Seriously people. We need a public plan. Period.

It's not that scary. Everyone puts the money into the pool, and the people who are sick take out what they need. This guy on the radio just said, "Why wouldn't I choose to pay half the price for the same medicine? Because I'm using YOUR money, not mine!" Yeah, except one day, you idiot, YOU'll be the sick one who needs help! And then your attitude will change real quick.

It's part of the ethos of capitalism (and somehow, sadly, American Christianity) to say that it's up to individuals to take care of themselves and their families, and government intervention somehow violates privacy. It's bullshit. We take care of each other because that is basic human decency, and it's civilized. It is not civilized to let children go hungry and get sick because you don't want to pony up a little more in taxes. That's ridiculous. Get over yourselves people.

And even if you don't want to do it because it's kind and decent, then at least do it so that you will one day be taken care of. It could take a damn long time, but hopefully one day we'd create a culture of caring for one another - and especially the least among us - that would teach children that they automatically care for their elders. I mean, it's SO communist...or is it just basic human decency?

I realize that there's always the argument that public health care could cause massive runs on the ER and huge wait times to see doctors. Well, to me, it's better than not having the option to see a doctor AT ALL. Yeah, maybe some people die waiting to see a doctor. How many people die because they don't have the option to see a doctor now?? It's not about having to wait, it's about having to go to the same doc that the poor people go to. It's about people who have good insurance not wanting to share their good fortune, not wanting their own quality of life to go down a little bit so that somebody else's can be raised. So selfish.

An affordable public option for healthcare that's available to all regardless of income means my family would have the ability to go to the doctor when we get sick. It's as simple as that. If you need to know a person who this affects before you will care, you know me. You know John, and you know Maggie. Please think of us when you discuss, when you call your representatives, when you march.

Thank you.

Be Kind, Rewind. Then Press Stop.

2009-06-20T09:50:00.000-07:00

The last several weeks have been a blur of grandparents visiting, first birthday fun, new babies for several friends, and big surprises: primarily that, quite out of the blue, we found a house for rent, right in the middle of Fuller's housing, that costs the same as what we pay here. And it looks like it's ours.

Which means: we are moving back to Pasadena, to LA, to All Saints, to our friends there, to my midwife (yay! but not pregnant - yet), and to the several schools with which John has experience teaching that are probably a lot more inclined to ask him back than the places up here he's applied to. While I've begun many relationships up here and even made a few good friends, our main support network is still down there. I mean, you can't really recreate 13 years worth of connections in 1 year.

But I am really grateful for the people I met up here. The moms especially have been so fun to hang out with as we share our daughters' lives. Maggie has many fans and is the biggest fan of the big kids who hang out with us. And of course there's the food pantry, which is my church community, the people with whom I share meaningful work, and that bonds you in a way that is special. My other church community - the Sunday morning crowd - is also full of lovely people who've embraced our family, and they will be greatly missed.

Up here, the job market is abysmal. Predictions indicate jobs won't return in number until 2012. John not only couldn't find teaching work, he can't find any work. At least down south we have a lot of connections in all kinds of weird places; it's quite possible people can throw him a few days' work on a film crew, in an office, or even cooking or babysitting or running errands. He's even done yard work for the older ladies at church. There just seems to be more opportunity.

But most of all this is about returning Home, to the community and city where our hearts live, and where we most want to be. Or as John put it: "It's like we've had a near-death experience, and we're never going to take LA for granted again. We almost lost it forever. Now we're going to do all the things we always talked about but never actually got to do."

Being our resident philosopher, he's always describing our life in such poetic ways. Another thing he said to me, shortly after we decided to apply for the house: "Well, you kept saying you wanted a do-over. I guess you're getting it."

Exactly. Rewind my life back a year, and start again, this time making the right decisions. Staying home with my baby instead of barreling on through school, and staying within my home city. But I get to do it with a one-year-old who is way more fun now than she was last year at this time!

It's not like moving up here was a humongous mistake that I regret. I don't regret the friends I've made, and John pointed out that I basically got to do a year's internship at St. Gregory's, observing their worship and the food pantry inreach. I actually think I might have to start a pantry based on their model down in LA. I don't think I can live without it; it's become too important.

But how often do you get the chance to try again, knowing now what you wished you'd known then? It's a gift, it really is.

So that's the Be Kind, Rewind part of my title. Now for the Press Stop.

As you've no doubt noticed, I really don't have time to maintain this blog anymore. And since it was started as a reflection of my journey through seminary - and academia beyond - I don't have anything much to say anymore about that. Being a full-time mom just isn't what Feminary is about, and that's perfectly OK. I'd rather keep it in kind of a pristine time-warp. My obsession with food issues will continue over at FoodiEvangelist, but the Feminarian is retiring - or at least, taking a very long maternity leave.

If God is so good as to grant me entrance to the ordination process (for real) one day, then I might pick this blog back up again to talk about that experience. But that's going to be, I would guess, a long time from now, because I'm just way too gun-shy to throw myself back into that pain again. (OK I will admit that moving back to the parish & diocese where people know me is appealing...but I'm not expecting anything to happen)

So, thank you to those of you who have read from the beginning. It's been quite a journey. And thanks to you who've joined us more recently; go back and read some of the early stuff - it's funny and heartbreaking. I've grown so much through these last years, and almost all of it has been good (or at least character-building).

That's all she wrote. Peace. Out.

Michael Rowe: No More Mr. Nice Gay

2009-05-27T17:40:00.001-07:00

Michael Rowe: No More Mr. Nice Gay

"All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that though the will of the majority is in all cases to prevail, that will, to be rightful, must be reasonable; that the minority possess their equal rights, which equal laws must protect, and to violate would be oppression." -- Thomas Jefferson

As hard as I try to find another way to say this, yesterday's California Supreme Court decision makes this unattractive concept abundantly clear: gays and lesbians are now the only minority in America against whom discrimination is not only legal, but in many cases, encouraged. California has become the first state in U.S. history to amend its constitution to deprive a minority of a right that they had been legally granted.

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The American Patriot's Bible

2009-05-06T16:33:00.000-07:00

As it is my duty to bring to your attention items that will make you vomit, I present this new work: The American Patriot's Bible.

According to the blurb: THE ONE BIBLE THAT SHOWS HOW 'A LIGHT FROM ABOVE' SHAPED OUR NATION. Never has a version of the Bible targeted the spiritual needs of those who love our country more than The American Patriot's Bible. This extremely unique Bible shows how the history of the United States connects the people and events of the Bible to our lives in a modern world. The story of the United States is wonderfully woven into the teachings of the Bible and includes a beautiful full-color family record section [LDS alert - are they the target audience?], memorable images from our nation's history and hundreds of enlightening articles which complement the New King James Version Bible text.

But really, nobody can say it much better than this 5-star reviewer, RG from east texas:

Finally a Bible for the American Conservative Evangelical! With this Bible we can finally stop apologizing for the genocide of 20 million Native Americans and the enslavement of millions of African Americans. These events, along with the theft of Northern Mexico (Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, Colorado and California) can be rightly seen as the manifest destiny of God's chosen people. The waterboarding of hundreds and the deaths of over 100,000 Filipinos can be seen as the ethnic cleansing required to spread the gospel of democracy during the Spanish American War. The atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki can forever be seen as the necessary prevention of the deaths of millions and the beliefs of General Eisenhower and many others that it was merely America's way of proving our moral and military superiority to Russia and the rest of the world can be laid to rest. The blood of our soldiers and our Savior should be seen as equally important and efficacious.

The constant and consistent oppresive and imperialistic actions of the United States are not only forgivable but are manifestations of God's will when scriptures are properly applied. This Bible will help anyone understand these truths. It would have been nice if Thomas Nelson had performed a Jeffersonian edit and removed all the New Testament references about loving one's enemies and overcoming evil with good, but in reality these truths have been so long ignored in the United Satates that I have little doubt they will continue to be ignored by North American Christians. A disturbing thought occasionaly creeps in - What if Jesus were really serious about loving one's enemies?. With this Bible those questions, undoubtedly planted by Satan, can easily be dismissed.

No need to read the "revisionist" history of atheists such as Howard Zinn in A Peoples History of the United States or James Loewen in Lies My Teacher Told Me. These pagans do not know Jesus so what can they know of love and truth? Sometimes killing someone is the most loving thing you can do and besides, wherein loving one's enemies does it say not to kill them? Remember the bumper stickers from the Vietnam era? - Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out!
It is my hope that this Bible becomes the standard of every conservative evangelical pulpit in North America. Maybe it can be the straw that breaks the camel's back on books such as Greg Boyd's Myth of a Christian Nation. History has proven time and time again that theocracies are the most effective means of disseminating religion so the sooner we enforce a Christian theocracy the sooner Jesus will return. If only we could follow the radical Muslim pattern of a Taliban government and thereby insure that we are not left behind. The [...] that is Nationalism and Christianity may finally make that a reality.

Ah, even at my most virulent, I don't think I could have said it better. Bravo.

And while we're at it, let's take a moment to thank Obama for butting out of the church's business by not holding an official White House ceremony to commemorate the National Day of Prayer. It's almost as if he recognizes that you can be American and not believe in God!

A few links

2009-05-06T09:27:00.000-07:00

When (if?) I ever have a free moment I'll fill you in on the exciting events of my week, which so far have included a visit to the California Academy of Sciences, an interview for a campus ministry job at UC Santa Cruz, and an appointment with Kaiser's pelvic pain center (tmi?). But for now I only have a sec, so I'm going to lean on my colleagues and invite you to read these two wonderful reflections on the torture poll from Pew that I posted last week.

Hugo Schwyzer
David Gushee

WTFWJD?

2009-05-01T09:19:00.000-07:00

Great.

WASHINGTON (CNN) -- The more often Americans go to church, the more likely they are to support the torture of suspected terrorists, according to a new survey.

The more I see things like this, the more I wonder who are these people, what Bible are they reading, and which Jesus exactly do they think they belong to? Or, more accurately perhaps, belongs to them? (I've got Jesus in my heart)

I remember when J was teaching an ethics class at Biola University. He actually had to fight the students to convince them that they were supposed to try to be like Jesus. See, they had somehow gotten the idea (from their churches? or, yikes, theology/bible classes?) that Jesus' only job was to die, not to teach us how to live, and besides, he was God and sinless, so we couldn't possibly be like him anyway.

The stuff in the epistles about becoming perfect (and the Sermon on the Mount, for that matter) notwithstanding, this had somehow been translated into a totally different standard for the followers of Jesus than, well, anything he taught. I'm not sure where this other standard came from, exactly, but I know it includes a healthy dose of human ego and a decent amount of self-righteousness.

Anyway, I don't get it one bit. Here's a link to the study itself. I guess I'm just a totally different kind of churchgoer. Actually, one blogger said that "pew-sitters" were more likely to support torture - so maybe the trick is sitting in chairs instead of pews!

It's not surprising that we mainliners were the religious group most likely to say torture is never justified. But I find it really interesting that a quarter of the "religiously unaffiliated" said it never is. That means that more of the "religiously unaffiliated" understand and follow Jesus' teachings than do the majority of Christians!

It brings up an interesting question about morality, too: as in, where do the "godless" get their moral superiority? Hmmmm. Actually, J taught a whole class on that, too. Maybe I'll see if I can get him to blog about it. :)

The Pain of Love

2009-04-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

So last night I learned, through FB status updates, that three of my friends from seminary were named Postulants in the Episcopal Church. This is a solid step on the way to ordination. These friends - all women, all from Evangelical backgrounds (as the Fuller degrees attest) - were actually none of them Episcopalian when I met them, and 2 of the 3 had told me they'd never considered the priesthood. They were all, I think, surprised by the insistence of their congregations that they enter the process. And all of them have reached this important milestone together. How fun it must have been for them to be retreating together and be one another's support! And how interesting that it would be three Evangelical women on this road together (all, btw, in the ECUSA, not at splitting churches).

The flip side of this story is that this news, while wonderful, reduced me to sobs, as my own heart broke with the realization that, once again, I was not good enough, I chose the wrong churches or mentors, I fucked up my own process, and etc. on and on. I was already in the process when these women weren't even Episcopalian yet! I wanted nothing more - felt called and gifted to nothing else - and they didn't even realize God would be leading them this way!

But that's kind of the point, isn't it? That God uses the unexpected, the wrong, the vessel of clay? Perhaps I've just been too sure of my calling. It's seemed obvious, but perhaps that's why it's not true.

Yet this morning I opened my email to a message from a friend at my new church, who just read my post about Holy Week and affirmed what I said. She told me I was saying things she needed to hear - her exact words were "I could use a good sermon or two," specifically about sin. So there you go: even if the institution won't recognize me, apparently I can preach to people via this blog. Apparently I can still be a pastor of sorts, albeit a virtual one. It was a needed affirmation. And, it makes me all the more glad that I applied for a position as an online organizer for The Beatitudes Society. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I should get to the reason that I titled this post as I did. Another thing I found this morning, courtesy of another seminary colleague, was a link to this amazing post: Love is Fucking Stupid. And as I read it and it flipped my mind around a little, and I questioned its motives then saw, at the end, that it was super powerful, I realized that this is how I've been feeling: really fucking stupid.

I have continued to trust all things, bear all things, believe all things, and hope all things, in my wasted, ridiculous, nowhere-going process. So maybe, instead of seeing myself as a dumb naive fool, I should remind myself that this might just be the way I'm supposed to be. Maybe I'm approaching the institution with love, even as I get repeatedly stomped on. And I can vouch for the fact that yeah, it hurts like a bitch. And I have no idea if it will be "worth it" in the end. But it is the only way I know how to go on. The only other option is to give up, get bitter, and abandon the church (and believe me, that was all I wanted to do last night when I learned of my friends' success).

But you know, I probably won't. I'll continue my retreat for a while, and remain in the relative security of shaping just one little life for Christ. But I imagine God will come calling again one of these days, and I know I will answer. I know no other way to be. She is irresistable to me.

Of Probable Interest

2009-04-28T10:58:00.000-07:00

An interesting statement co-written by one of my colleagues at the GTU:

http://sextilateral.blogspot.com/

Easter Vigilantes

2009-04-22T19:54:00.000-07:00

[I apologize for being gone for so long; my internet was down for nearly three weeks. I can hardly explain the isolation and suffering this caused; it is best not to go down that road. I will try to make up for it in the days ahead.]

This year I had rather a new experience for me, at least since I’ve been Episcopalian: I experienced a Holy Week that was not preceded by a Lent. Of course, I grew up without Lent, but then, I didn’t have much Holy Week then either (there was Good Friday for sure, and Easter Saturday when we got our baskets – in a pastor’s house, the only opportunity – and then Easter Sunday when we got new dresses, ate breakfast at church, and sometimes the choir did a cantata so that meant we didn’t have to listen to a very long sermon). I understood, self-righteously, that the real reason for Easter was Jesus’ resurrection and most people got it wrong; but, as with Christmas, I still really liked the special food and gifts and traditions, and as a child I’m sure I looked forward to egg dyeing far more than being reminded of Jesus’ death for the umpteenth time (because you know the substitutionary death is where we were actually saved, and the resurrection was just to prove Jesus was God after all). I know that once Reese’s put out peanut butter eggs, that became the number one reason to celebrate Easter…but I digress.

As I said, I got a little blast from my liturgical past this year as I went through a season that was ostensibly but not praxisly (if I may invent a word) Lenten. Now let me say up front that I really do love my new church community at St. Gregory’s, and I’ve joined the church precisely because they’ve welcomed our family so warmly and I feel so at home there. I enjoy the worship: the music, definitely, and the silence, and the art, and the way everything is put together. Certainly the openness of communion has won me over, and as I’ve mentioned before, the preaching is the best we heard since moving here. It has been fascinating and educational for me as a liturgical theologian.

And that is how I’d like to respond to the experience of Holy Week at this church: as a liturgist, attempting a quasi-removed perspective and somewhat objective analysis. I will probably get into my emotional response as well, but luckily, for the postmodernist, that must be taken into account as a valid part of the experience. But mainly I just wanted to put in all this disclaimer so that those from the church who might read this would know I’m not trying to be disparaging or personally attack anyone’s beloved liturgy, I’m simply attempting to evaluate, with the professional tools I’ve been given and the experience I’ve had in this denomination and others, how well the self-professed experimental approach has worked in this instance.

So, let’s begin with a general explanation of St. Gregory’s principles, the first and foremost of which, in relation to time, is this: there are two seasons, Easter and Easter’s Coming. Now this is at first glance an exciting and hopeful message, particularly to those who grew up in denominations focused only on the death of Christ (my hand’s up) or who thought of Christians merely as dreary or boring. Easter is our most joyful and celebratory season, to be sure, and there is definitely historical precedent for making every Sunday a resurrection day, the eighth day, the commemoration of Christ’s return to life. That is why we may stand before the altar rather than kneel. It is why we sing, most of the year, “Alleluia” and why we partake of the Heavenly Banquet. Sundays are certainly the most central day for Christians, and if our most central feast is Easter, then it makes some sense to conflate the two.

But if one looks at the span of history of the Church, one finds that Sunday hasn’t been regarded as merely celebratory. There are many other ways to worship God besides pure, unadulterated joy. Indeed, the main complaint against the Evangelical praise-and-worship movement is that it disregards aspects of the human experience outside of happiness and contentment with God. We must have a place to express the full range of our experience with God, including our doubts, fears, and grief. And, yes, our rebellion. One of St. Gregory’s other primary principles is that the only thing that matters is being God’s friend. Well, as our rector reminds us often, really being someone’s friend is not just sweetness and light; it means calling each other out on wrongdoing and hurtfulness, it means sometimes being unsure of the other’s motives, it means working through tough times because you believe that your friendship is worth it and that it will get good again. Not much unlike marriage, in fact, or parenthood.

And God is more than just Jesus the risen Christ, although God is absolutely and totally that. But She is also the God who is questioned in Job, who is yelled at in the Psalms, who changes Her mind in the Prophets, who judges harshly in Exodus, who shakes the mountains, casts down the mighty, lifts up the lowly, and feeds the hungry. If we are to truly be in relationship with this God, and enact that relationship in truth through our liturgy, then we cannot only celebrate the resurrection. It is a central thing, yes, but it’s not the only thing (and many – including me – would argue that the central thing might just be the incarnation, and the resurrection – like the crucifixion – simply the logical result of what really began at Bethlehem).

OK, so that’s my preface. Let me now talk about what I experienced.

First, let’s look at Lent. There was an Ash Wednesday service, which I unfortunately missed (it’s just too hard to get into the city on a weeknight). So the first time I attended church during Lent was on a Sunday, and it turned out to be just like all the other Sundays in Lent…which was, almost entirely, just like every other Sunday of the year. The words of the service did not change. We opened, as we always do, singing an “Alleluia” (and continuing singing or saying this “forbidden” word throughout the service, as usual). There were some minor changes to the vestments, but the icons were not veiled nor were the crosses changed. The bread and wine were the same as always (I wish that, in a church so in tune with food, they would at least try changing up these elements!). Most tellingly, while the hymns changed, the dance did not. And while the words of the hymns were bespeaking a Lenten season, and the keys were minor, because we danced in the same way (and the dancing often takes much of one’s attention), the changes were not felt in our bodies as much as they could have been. To jump ahead: on Good Friday the dance slowed down…waaaaay down…and I wondered: why couldn’t this have been done the entire Lenten season? It was difficult to do it that one time; after four or five weeks, though, we’d have had it down and could have really focused on whatever we were singing for the Good Friday liturgy. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The other thing that is never done at St. Gregory’s on Sunday because it is the belief of the founders that it is never appropriate on Sunday is that we do not confess sin publicly. Ever. And I have to say that as much as I don’t like dwelling on sin, I really dislike never having an opportunity to stand up with my Christian family and admit we all mess up sometimes. Even when I don’t have personal sin to confess, I am always complicit in some kind of corporate sin (in every sense of that word). Going too long without confession makes one just start to feel, well, either dirty, or – much worse – like there’s nothing to confess. And I get a sense that there’s some self-righteousness going on at my church. It’s disguised in a very attractive package: one that says God loves you exactly as you are, which is a message that many of those who visit us desperately need to hear. But those who have been in the faith for a while need to stop taking milk and start on the solids, and that means admitting that while God of course loves and accepts us as we are, that doesn’t mean She necessarily wants us to stay that way, because many times how we are now is inhibiting us from living our life most abundantly.[1]

So, we have Lent without too much liturgical change, and without confession of sin. This all bothered me in the first weeks, but after a while I just went with it. And I discovered that my other attempts at Lenten discipline went lax as well. It just didn’t seem like it was all that necessary, since my only church experiences were pretty much the same as ordinary time. There wasn’t that weekly reminder that the season was different, so I had no impetus to remember that I was dust, that I was in rebellion against God, and that I needed to be redeemed.

Palm Sunday began with “Christ is risen!” “He is risen indeed!” and some alleluias, just as every Sunday does at St. Gregory’s. We did a lovely procession around the neighborhood with palms and pretty umbrellas, stopping to sing and pray and hear scripture. This would have been really effective if we were in a neighborhood that wasn’t industrial and therefore mostly abandoned, but it was still a lot of fun, and Maggie sure had a great time waving her palm branch. I did feel a bit of a cognitive dissonance replying that Christ was risen on the week when the Passion is usually read, but I was really trying to go with it so as to experience Holy Week “their” way (which I was assured was “awesome”). We did not read the Passion story but basically just did Palm Sunday, which was really fine since that’s the day it is after all.

The next event was The Maundy, which they do on Tuesday, pretty much for logistical reasons (Thursday is for choir rehearsal, and besides, everyone gets too tired if there’s a three-day Triduum – which is kind of hilarious since they don’t even do anything on Easter Sunday…at my old church, we had services Wed. and Thurs. nights, Friday at noon through the afternoon and into the evening – with an all-night prayer vigil – then the Saturday evening vigil, then three services on Sunday. You wanna talk about tired clergy, talk to those troopers!). It was probably my favorite service of Holy Week. It actually wasn’t much of a service at all. We had a potluck meal (very appropo), then blessed some bread and wine and shared it. The priest gave a little sermonette (which was really unnecessary), and we washed one another’s feet. Then we all cleaned up together (again, very poignant action) while singing the dreaded Alleluias (yes, by this point I was actually getting a bit sick of the word). We were essentially stripping the church, and we finished with a prayer taking us into the deeper mystery of Holy Week. Then we broke for three days. Well, you know, logistics.

Really, I loved the service. Because it was entirely, precisely that: service. We cooked for one another, we fed one another, we washed one another’s feet, we told stories and listened to one another, we cleaned up after one another, and we held hands and prayed for one another. I think that’s why I didn’t care for the sermon: it broke the flow of it being all about everyone serving everyone else in the room – it was just one person talking to us and kind of framing everything. But it didn’t need framing. It spoke loud and clear on its own. And even as a liturgist – no, especially as one – I’m all for cutting unnecessary elements, particularly words.

So, next we have Good Friday. Well actually, next for our family was a dinner party we were invited to on the real Maundy, Thursday. Which was wonderful and exactly what church should be: small, intimate, full of laughter and tears (thanks to Maggie’s meltdown), lots of food and wine, and a little poop (again thanks to Maggie).

But on to Friday. The service was in the evening and I actually spent the majority of it taking my infant in and out. So I missed a lot of the flow, and I’ll rely on my husband’s reflections on the parts I missed. This was the ONE time we didn’t say Christ is Risen or Alleluia. Thank God for that. Though once really wasn’t enough to get it out of our systems (more on that later). It was a very looooong service with a very loooooong opening concert by the choir. The music was haunting and beautiful, though. Just not great when you have a squirmy baby in your arms.

There were two main elements to this service, which could probably be called the Services of Word and Sacrament. The Word part was what most Episcopal churches do: reading the Passion story. We read – actually, chanted, which was lovely – the John version. But with a twist (of course, there’s always a twist): the people, rather than reciting our usual part (“Crucify Him!” “We have no king but Caesar!”), sang the lines of Christ!

Well, this just brings up all sorts of liturgical ramifications! On the one hand, I can see the logic: we’re identifying with Christ – and with God – in suffering for the world. And we’re the Body of Christ, so it makes some sense for us to sing Christ’s part. But there are a LOT of dangerous other ways to interpret this, ways that seem a lot more immediate and even flow out of that logic. We’re suffering innocently and unjustly, as Christ did (no, we are not innocent, and while we sometimes suffer unjustly, we also bring consequences on ourselves – and Lent was supposed to remind us of that!). We’re suffering at the hands of sinners, the Sinful, Judgmental Other (besides being potentially anti-Semitic, this reflects what churches can be at their worst: clubs for like-minded people who sit around congratulating themselves that, in the words of the Pharisee, God “has not made me like them”). And then there’s the more obvious mistakes: we’re Divine, perfect, holy sacrifices (rather than imperfect clay being molded into something God can use). And I really do believe that one of the primary points of the cross is that God is showing us who God is (this was the point of the sermon, to give credit to our rector) by suffering, and this is the one day when we have to admit that we did – and do – this to God.

We’re not the victims. I mean, we are often victims, but on Good Friday, we’re not the victim. We’re just not. I’m going to be kind of fundamentalist about this. If we can’t see that God suffered for us, not just with us, then we’re going to keep ourselves on the throne, instead of prostrate before it.

Which, ironically, is what we did during the Sacrament portion of the service. And this part was really lovely. We all brought flowers up to the altar, which was bare save for an icon of the burial of Christ. Some of us kissed the icon. It was very similar to reverencing the cross, which I’ve also participated in and taken great meaning from. After everyone had laid down his or her flower, a chanter intoned a Middle-Eastern sounding melody and we prostrated ourselves several times before the altar (I keep calling it this, even though it’s really a Table in this church, but on that day, I think it was also an Altar – and this was the only service at which there was no food). Because of the sound of the chant and the way we knelt, it was reminiscent of Muslim prayers. We went up and down enough times that I really started to feel the devotion in my body, and I can see how that kind of bodily prayer would put religion deep into your bones. I didn’t want that part to end.

But it did, and we departed in silence, until the next night.

And so we came to the Easter Vigil, which until this year had always been the capper to Holy Week (this year the new rector tried out a dénouement on Sunday afternoon: an egg hunt and barbeque, which wasn’t widely attended but was a lot of fun for the kiddies – Maggie included, followed by Vespers, which we were too exhausted to stick around for). I was really pumped for this event: it has always been the absolute highlight of my year, and for the first time, I was participating as a reader! Exciting stuff.

So, this service was also prefaced with a choir concert. The choir opened by walking up to “Freedom Come”, the first of several gospel songs we would intone throughout the evening. Then they launched into a quite varied repertoire of pieces about the resurrection, most containing the words Christ is Risen and Alleluia.

Um. Oops.

So when the priests got up to start the service, rewinding us back to the Exultant, it was kind of too late because the Christ was out of the bag (or tomb, as it were). It felt really strange to suddenly pretend like Christ wasn’t yet risen when we’d just heard for half an hour that he was (and indeed had heard it every Sunday as well). So there’s my first issue. That was just a bit weird.

Then we moved into the readings, which were not the traditional ones, and were read out of order. We heard the story of the Creation last, for instance, after the burning bush, the Exodus and a reading from Isaiah (mine). Again, this interrupted the narrative flow of the service. But in a sense it worked, since we were saying, with our gospel music and stories of freedom, that we were being freed from slavery (one assumes by Easter). But this does beg the question of what exactly we were enslaved to, since we hadn’t confessed anything nor heard much preaching about what was wrong with us. In fact, it felt more like we were the innocent slaves – like the Hebrews under the Egyptians and the Africans in the South – who were taken by the evil forces that God ultimately defeated. But how could white, upper and middle class, mostly wealthy San Franciscans be oppressed? Or was there simply a martyr complex going on, fueled by the misplaced identification with Christ and the constant stories of rejection by the Evangelical establishment (we get at least one a week)? Had we been told so often that we are fine “just the way we are” that we’d lost any sense that we needed saving from ourselves??

[An aside: many of the parishioners are GLBTQI and so forth, and I realize that, in much of the country, this is an oppressed minority. But I think I could successfully argue that it’s not one in San Francisco. And while many of us were oppressed by the churches in which we were raised, that doesn’t mean we ourselves aren’t also sinners – if for no other reason than that we may not be loving our enemies!]

I missed the sermon this night, because of the baby again. But she finally went to sleep and so we joined the procession around the church, singing about the saints and martyrs who’d come before us (all the way from Perpetua to Ling Ling the panda). At the end of our procession we stopped before the doors of the church and had some singing and prayers, and then, without too much ado (I almost missed it, in fact), the priest called out, “Christ is Risen!” and everyone responded “He is risen indeed!” and we repeated that several times.

But here’s where it got weird(er): try as I might, I couldn’t muster up the same joy in response to that call as I have in previous years. And I pretty quickly figured out why: there wasn’t really anything special about calling out “Christ is risen!” on this night, because we’d been calling that out every single service (except Good Friday) all year. There was never a time that Christ wasn’t risen. Now, I realize that’s a true statement; and in the theology of this church, that’s exactly the point. But somehow I needed that space – that Lenten time when we mourn the loss of our Savior and acknowledge our complicity in that – before I could fully celebrate the resurrection.

As we began to dance around the altar and sing, “Christ the Lord is Ris’n Today” I closed my eyes and imagined myself back at All Saints in Beverly Hills, where they’d be singing the same thing right around that time. I remembered the blaze of light after the darkness, the organ cranking up after a week’s silence, the blast of trumpets and timpani, and the glorious cacophony of sound – bells and shouts – rising from the congregation. The first time I really got Easter was at their Vigil. So of course I’m biased. But I know I’m not alone in believing it’s the best.

There is just something about Carol yelling at the top of her lungs “Christ is Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!” (pointedly, St. G’s leaves out the Alleluias, for once; and again, they are more meaningful at the church where they’ve been unsaid for 40 days) and all of us responding with voice and bell and music after this long desert of Lent. We’ve self-examined and self-disciplined. We’ve walked together through the dark places. We’ve seen only empty branches in the place where now flowers are bursting forth. We have lived Lent, not just paid it lip service.

And without Lent, I’m sorry, but there isn’t much of a Holy Week, and there’s really no cause for celebration on Easter. I know this from growing up without Lent, and I experienced it again this year.

And then I realized the other thing that was under my skin: there had been no baptisms. How unfortunate! (that’s sincere, btw) I realize that it’s hard to come up with candidates, and I’m sure it’s harder for a church that doesn’t really attach much theological import to baptism (it’s not required for membership or Eucharistic participation). But wow, Easter was so much less without it. There was nobody dying and rising with Christ, and heartbreakingly, I did not get to confirm my own baptismal covenant with my church family around me. I love doing that, and being sprinkled; and I really looked forward to holding Maggie as she confirmed her own for the first time (at least she won’t remember this year). Just like with no Lent, not having baptisms really lessens the impact of Easter, and particularly the Easter Vigil.

One other quick comparison and then I must close this tome (it could go on for ages, but I haven’t the time for such things anymore). At the end of the ASBH service, there is a tradition of people lifting their hands during the last song. The chorus goes like this:

And I will raise them up

And I will raise them up on the last day

I went through a journey with this gesture: at first I loved it, then I found it cheesy and rote, then I learned to love it again while having a sense of humor about it (because, i.e., there’s this moment when everybody knows to raise their hands, and it hits at the same note every time – it’s kind of funny). It turned out that, along with the singing and dancing and “Christ is risen!” in several languages (which I liked – neat touch), the people at St. Gregory’s seemed to have a “hand-raising” song as well, one that is particularly set aside as the time when it’s “accepted” for the Episcopalians to do this rather charismatic gesture. And that song is “Mary Don’t You Weep,” the lyrics of which are as follows:
Oh, Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn

Oh, Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn

Pharaoh’s army got drown-ded

Oh, Mary, don’t you weep

Now, I won’t continue to pick on the white folks co-opting the gospel music (although I find the grammar error offensive, as if to hold the “black folk” in perpetual stupidity), and I won’t comment on the confusing nature of conflating Mary’s (Magdalene or Mother) weeping over Jesus with the story of the Exodus. I will simply say that the hand-raising song is, from my experience, the song most emotionally “felt” by the congregation; the song that, for them, seems to hit them in the gut with the meaning of Easter. If one goes with that definition and looks purely at the lyrics of the songs, the result is disturbing.

Church A: Easter is about raising “them” (everyone?) up on the last day; the meaning of the resurrection of Jesus is the resurrection of all!

Church B: Easter is about joy in the violent defeat of our enemies.

Of course I realize that nobody at St. Gregory’s actually believes this is what Easter is about, nor would many of them ever condone violence (nor do I believe gospel music to be intentionally violent, but rather it uses the violent metaphors of Scripture to bring hope to the oppressed; when sung by the powerful, it takes on very different meaning). This is a church that prays openly for our enemies weekly, and for that I am appreciative. I’m not saying they are doing something that is bad, I’m simply pointing out the dissonance between their liturgical actions (song and gesture) and their professed theology and politics. I believe there are far superior songs and acts that could more accurately reflect what this community truly believes about Easter; just as I believe that they could have a far richer experience of Holy Week if they would find ways to alter their Lenten Sundays.

There is always more we can do to bring our liturgy in line with our theology. We have to remember that everything is saying something – there is no silent action, word, song, gesture, artwork, movement, furniture, banner, vestment, cloth, food, or drink in a liturgy. Ritual goes deep into our bones with meanings we cannot always articulate, but which may surprise us when pointed out by the outsider.

That’s all I’ve attempted to do here: present an outsider’s (or really, newcomer’s) perspective of what I saw enacted over Holy Week and Easter. I sincerely hope I haven’t offended anyone, and it was not my purpose at all to rip apart a beloved tradition. But if there were interest in changing anything at any point, I hope this essay would be of help.

[1] Thanks to my friend Sylvia for putting it this way.

Food for thought

2009-03-27T08:31:00.001-07:00

Appropriate title, since I've been blogging over at FoodiEvangelist a bit more lately.

But this quote seemed more to fit in over here. Thanks to my FB friend Tony Mills for the citation...

The world is barren enough. It is stacked against love, and against hope, and against those very few and precious emotions that enable us to go forward. Your marriage only stands a 50-50 chance of lasting, no matter how much you feel and how hard you work. And here are people overjoyed at the prospect of just that chance, and that work, just for the hope of having that feeling. With so much hate in the world, with so much meaningless division, and people pitted against people for no good reason, this is what your religion tells you to do? With your experience of life and this world and all its sadnesses, this is what your conscience tells you to do? With your knowledge that life, with endless vigor, seems to tilt the playing field on which we all live, in favor of unhappiness and hate... this is what your heart tells you to do?

- Keith Olbermann, the host of MSNBC's TV news show Countdown, shortly after Proposition 8 was passed in California.

Heads up!

2009-03-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Hi friends and neighbors...

I've created a new blog to cover my interests in food and spirituality. I'll post all the foodie stuff there, as well as anything that is related to what would have been my dissertation work/might be my Christian bookstore book if I ever have time to actually write it.

So if that's why you check this blog, bookmark me over at:
http://foodievangelist.blogspot.com/

Bon Appetit!

Portia De Rossi Apologizes For Marrying Ellen

2009-03-23T09:36:00.001-07:00

eat, drink, bleed, and live in communion

2009-03-17T12:28:00.000-07:00

This is a sermon by Sara Miles, and I post it with her permission because it is just so darn beautiful particularly in light of the stuff I've been posting in the last week or so. (did I mention I stood up in church and talked about breastfeeding? I don't think that could have happened in the congregation of my childhood...)

Sara Miles • St Gregory of Nyssa

Sermon 7:30PM • 24 August 2003

…Jesus said, Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in that person. As the living Father sent me and I draw life from the Father, so whoever eats me will also draw life from me…..After hearing this, many of his followers said‚This is intolerable language. How could anyone accept it? Jesus was aware that his followers were complaining about it and said, Does this disturb you?…Many of his disciples went away and accompanied him no more. Jesus said, What about you, do you want to go away too? Simon Peter answered, Lord, to whom shall we go?

Eat my flesh and drink my blood.

Does this disturb you?

What about you, do you want to go away too?

Yes, I want to go away, fast. Because this disturbing demand of Jesus, that we eat him and become him, is just so intolerable, so invasive, so shocking I can’t accept it, want to go away.

But to whom shall I go?

I plan to talk about children a little bit tonight. But not their cuteness or their niceness or anything sweet or pastel. I want to talk about children as the gift of life. That is, about sex and pain and blood and eating.

And no, I’m not going to tell you amusing stories about what it’s like to be a mother. (It’s pretty wild.) You may not have kids, so what I’m going to tell you, remind you of, is what it’s like to be one. Because we all are.

You are somebody’s child. Think about this. You grew inside a woman, you came out of her, you ate her. You ate her body, literally, to live. You became her and she became you. She’s in you in ways that ––if you’re like me—can still feel as elemental and violent as the moment when you were pushed out from between her legs in a great rush of blood.

This is intolerable.

You are somebody’s child.. A man helped make you, in ways that are ridiculously mysterious and absolutely powerful. He went inside somebody else’s body and became a part of you. The shape of your hands, the way you clear your throat, the color of your eyes—he lives in you, literally in the code that turned on each cell of your being, and in your spirit.

He became you, and you became him, in ways seen and unseen, that will follow you all the years of your life.

This is intolerable.

We can read tonight’s Gospel story as being about the ways Jesus’ disciples and the people gathered at Capernaum were shocked by his breach of religious convention There certainly was enough in Jesus’ claim to set the teeth of the faithful, and their priests, on edge: who was this man daring to come into the synagogue and use the language of blood and sacrifice? How dare he talk to them about their ancestors, who ate manna in the wilderness and died there? What was he doing, telling them to be cannibals? Some of this story is about the ways God, through Christ, turned religion on its head. And the idea that God may still, through Christ, be doing that today is certainly hard for us to take.

But I think what we really find intolerable in this story is the literal truth. God’s truth, that Jesus tells us without flinching. Without pastels. That we were made out of flesh, and are also suffused with a huge longing spirit we can’t entirely understand. That we each are someone’s child–– a new body made by other bodies. That we hunger to eat our parents, that we do eat them, that we are eaten ourselves, that our bodies help make new people. That we are penetrated by and inside each other, irrevocably and indivisibly connected to each other, that we live through each other’s flesh.

Do you want to go away, now, too? Yes.

But to whom shall we go? There is nowhere in Heaven or Earth to hide from the intolerable fact of our own bodies and blood connected so intimately to others; nowhere to escape the vivid reality of our unseen spirits, nowhere God is not. God is in our mouths, our stomachs, our flesh, in all the blazing facts of creation.

I took communion for the first time in my life about five years ago. But that’s backwards. The truth is, communion took me.

I had no intention at all of doing this. I grew up without ever going to church. I never heard a Gospel reading, never said the Lord’s Prayer. I was certainly not interested in becoming a Christian—or, as I thought of it rather less politely, a religious nut.

I walked in here at eight o’clock one morning because my wife, who also had no intention of joining a church, just wanted somewhere quiet to sit and pray. We came here and sat down and stood up, sang and sat down, waited and listened and stood up and sang, and it was all peaceful and sort of interesting, and then we started moving up to the Table. And then we gathered around it. And there was more singing and standing, and then someone was putting a piece of fresh bread in my hands, saying, “the body of Christ,” and then giving me a cup saying, “the blood of Christ,” and then something outrageous and disturbing and terrifying happened. Jesus happened to me.

It was intolerable. I could not accept it. But I was so hungry I kept coming back. This went on for a while–– me taking the bread and crying and drinking the cup and crying. I started to read the Bible. I sat by myself a lot and mused about God. I thought I got control of myself and thought I understood things. I started to feel pretty sanctified and pleased about where this little adventure of mine was headed until, a year or so later, I began to serve as a deacon.

So I started to deacon. And then I had to pass the body of Christ to you, the body of Christ. Well, that was to lead to my baptism. Which is another story. And to the setting up of St Gregory’s food pantry, which is another story, though maybe it’s really the same one.

But right away it disturbed my nice, pastel plan for my religious future. What happened once I started distributing communion was the truly disturbing, dreadful realization about Christianity: you can’t be a Christian by yourself.

And while you can work quite hard to find the religious community, the denomination, the particular church where you feel comfortable, and while you can make a real effort to impose rules that keep the wrong kind of people out of your cozy tradition, sooner or later you’re going to have the inescapable reality of your connection to other people, without exception, right up in your face.

You are going to be touching Christ’s body through the angry old guy with the clenched jaw. Looking into Christ’s eyes, through the face of the self-satisfied yuppie with the sports car. Listening to Christ’s voice, through the middle-aged woman with the annoying nasal whine. You are not going to get to sit by yourself and think loftily about how much God loves you in particular. You are not going to get to have dinner, eternally, with people just like you. You are going to get communion, whether you want it or not, with people you didn’t choose. People you don’t necessarily like. Screwed-up people, with bodies. The people God chose for you.

Sort of like the way God chose your parents.

These are hard words, Jesus’ followers say, and they’re right. Each of us has to be born, eat, drink, bleed, and die in the most intimate communion with strangers – our mothers, our fathers, the boring, infuriating, unacceptable, intolerable people around us. Like you, Christ is in them, and they in him. Like you, they are becoming God.

Each of us on Earth has to eat, drink, bleed and live in communion with other people’s bodies, and with their souls. And with God, whom we didn’t choose. Who chose us.

So, are you ready for some bread and wine now? Come, let us draw eternal life

I neglected to mention...

2009-03-17T12:23:00.001-07:00

BTW I should have also said that I met wonderful, amazing people at this gathering the last couple of days. I'm delighted with the new friends I've made. And I'm not even kissing ass; I really am excited about knowing these people. Particularly the awesome Minneapolis contingent - who knew the Spirit was blowing her wind so strongly there? I thought Chicago was the windy city, ha ha. (groan)

Now I have all the more reason to take Maggie to see her cousins there, because she's blessed with a whole new set of aunties to love her. We are so blessed to have such a village willing to raise this child with us (now if only we could somehow live in 15 places at once...).

The whole General Convention thing is starting to sink in and get a little scary, but I've already heard from some LA people who will team up with me. I almost feel like maybe I was specially prepared for this job by having the connections down there that are needed to help pull together the strands of this web. It is at once daunting and exciting.

OK, I can't spend too much of naptime on the computer - got to eat, do housework, take a shower (!!), all those things we try to cram in before the inevitable cry calls a momma back to her primary job.

anglimergent

2009-03-16T20:50:00.001-07:00

I spent the last couple of days at a gathering of people who self-identify as “anglimergent” – or at least, spend some of their time networking on a website entitled “anglimergent”. It’s a tricky group to pin down: many of them are uncomfortable with labels, particularly labels that identify them with the rather evangelical world of emerging church. I find the label helpful as a way to shorthandedly say, “people who are interested in seeing the church move forward in whatever way works” or “people who want to help write the next chapter of the Episcopal story (as my husband puts it: not rewrite the former chapters, not write a totally new book, but write a chapter that builds on the chapters that have come before and adds our generation’s input).”

So that is the kind of person we’re talking about – someone who wants to see a new era of ministry going in the Episcopal Church that makes it open and relevant and generally the kind of place that I’ve already been lucky enough to find it to be. Turns out that many people have had horrendous experiences in TEC, and I feel awful about that. I’m super spoiled to have only gone to churches that, for the most part, got it right. At least, they were authentically who they are. And I’m not going to pretend I haven’t been burned – we just have to revisit the sad pathetic story of my ordination process(es) to know that my attempts to serve have not always been well-received (or well-offered, I hasten to add).

All that to say that there actually ARE Episcopal churches that need to be dragged kicking and screaming into the postmodern era, or into the 1979 prayer book (which hasn’t nearly finished being mined, as Louis Weil reminds us), or just into a general sense that the church should be kind of an open and loving place and not so much an exclusive club or a political stance or a family tradition. It is, after all, about God’s kingdom on earth; about spreading God’s love; about Jesus’ way of living into the most abundant life possible. These are the things that the folks I met with are about.

Oddly, I was really only there because Sara Miles asked me to be. I didn’t feel remotely like I belonged. But as I was preparing to attend and was thinking about my experience with emergy type stuff, I realized I had a remarkable amount of background in that world (especially for someone who never officially has been a member of an actual emergent church). I was pretty involved in the planning process for Thad’s in LA (until they decided not to have regular Eucharist, which I couldn’t live with), and I helped write some of the liturgy for Barry Taylor’s services at All Saints’ (including parts of the Eucharistic prayer that they still use). Then there was my independent study on the EC, which led to our (unfinished) documentary on COTA. At seminary, one of my closest friends was a founding member of Three Nails in Pittsburgh, and another had lived and served in an intentional community in East LA long before emerging became a thing (incidentally, both of these people had left that kind of church to join more traditional Episcopal congregations, citing the liturgy as what drew them to the tradition…gee! Ya think?). For heaven’s sake, I never would have gone to seminary if Carol Wade hadn’t told me to, and she’s in this conversation too! I never would have become Episcopalian without being discipled by Christopher Martin, and the whole thing with him was doing spiritual disciplines – the real hard-core monastic stuff that you can’t really do just once a week at church. And now, I go to St. Gregory’s, and I used to go to All Saints’ BH, and even at St. Barnabas – all these churches have one thing in common: they are unapologetically authentic to themselves. They don’t try to be something appealing, they don’t try to find a niche and fill it, they don’t try to be relevant. Hell, St. B’s didn’t even have bulletins and everybody had the liturgy memorized! But all these places we were drawn to, we realized, were places that – though there was NO alt-worship going on – embodied the principles of the anglimergent group (or at least those who had gathered). They are open, nurturing, playful, incarnate, sacramental (!!), collaborative, passionate, and deeply contextual. They are places of freedom and hospitality. Sure, they have their stumbles and drawbacks, and not all these values are lived every moment. But they are held, I believe, by the majority of the membership. And they are what keep the churches living and, in some cases, thriving.

A word on the sacramental bit: Sara pointed out that most of the people in the room were serious about sacraments, particularly about gathering around a Table where everyone is welcome. And I realized, making “sacramental” one of the core values of “anglimergent” would exclude some communities which believe that sacraments are not necessarily…necessary. Or perhaps that they are something quite different from what the church has said they are (e.g., Eucharist isn’t important, but perhaps there is something else which takes its place?). And I suppose that, to be true to our principles, we’d have to say yes, you can still be anglimergent and not give a rat’s ass about sacraments. Because you can’t define anglimergent, or at least, it seems, you can’t make boundaries around what it does and does not define.

Which actually is really confusing. Like, they kept saying there’s “no such thing” as anglimergent and there’s no “there there” – but obviously something brought all us people together, and isn’t it helpful to have (as my friend Andy put it) a “handle” to call it (since apparently “label” is too loaded of a word to just throw around)? I don’t know, maybe it’s the meds or something, but my brain starts to hurt when I try to figure out how something could be nonexistent but yet we’re talking about it and identifying with it (but it also can’t be defined or have boundaries...ouch, headache).

One really interesting moment was when someone suggested that if a group formed that wanted to drop bombs on muslims and call themselves anglimergent, that obviously they wouldn’t be. And Sara, God bless her, actually had the cajones to say no, you can’t say that – you either have to let everybody in or make really strict boundaries. So far, the group is resisting boundaries, is resisting placing authority in any person or group or even set of rules, so that kind of leaves the field open for nutjobs. But I guess that’s better than getting stuck obeying one small vision of what anglimergent could mean.

It’s so easy – especially in a room of people who are almost all the same generation or two, and probably all hold the same views politically and mostly the same theologically – it’s really easy and really tempting in that scenario to start thinking we know what everybody thinks, to start believing that we’re all the same. But we’re not. And more importantly, we have to be OPEN to other expressions of what church can be, because without diversity the kingdom just isn’t Godly.

So that means, as hard as it is, we have to drop our own agendas and reach across the aisle. We have to do like Fuller’s Episcopal/Anglican group did – people from churches that had left and churches still aligned with the diocese would meet weekly and pray together and pray FOR each other. And there wasn’t any way to reconcile our churches on a large scale, but one-on-one, we could at least talk, at least agree that we all loved Jesus, and we actually did help bust a lot of myths about each other.

But all that is simply to say that if a group wanted to form and call itself part of the anglimergent community that was not like us, not like our vision of what emergent or Anglican or even “cool kids” are…I guess we’d have to be stuck with it. I personally feel like there should be some kind of boundaries – I mean, to call something Anglican there should at least be a modicum of Anglicanism involved (I could care less about the emergent label) – but perhaps that’s why the name isn’t helpful and should be rejected….perhaps we need to just be who we are. And for me, that would involve something interfaith and certainly interdenominational, so right there you have to lose the Anglican handle (or DO you – I love the tension-holding value of TEC – is it really anything goes??)

Anyway this is all getting a bit rambly and confusing and of course it’s just my own thoughts and in no way reflects anybody else’s impressions, I’m sure. Plus please recall that I’m chronically sleep deprived, and had a margarita this evening. So if I’m totally misremembering things, I apologize to my colleagues who were there, and I look forward to your musings on the meeting. These were just some of the thoughts that came up in my head as I pondered our discussions. And as you can see, I’m really quite a confused little girl. Oh well.

Somehow in a fit of excitement I wound up volunteering to go to General Convention and do…well we don’t know what yet, but do something. This was possibly a very naïve and ridiculous move. God knows I am not at all qualified to talk about the emergent church, having always been on the fringes of it. Then again, if it’s just about being a kingdom gal, that I can do.

Ay. I’m tired of writing now. Hope there was something worth reading there.

Breastfeeding: Pro and Con

2009-03-13T09:55:00.000-07:00

OK, I have to post these links. First an article that made me feel rather like a fool for believing all the hype and going ahead with breastfeeding even though, at first at least, it was incredibly difficult, stressful, tiring, and time-consuming (these days it's rare, something I anticipate, always floods me with joy and peace, and makes me feel super-close to my daughter). Had I read this article 9 months ago, I would have given up probably in about week 3 or 4. Stuck where I'm at, having played the fool for 9 mos now, I was at least glad to be in the meager 17% of people who bfeed exclusively for 6 mos (until I realized I hadn't: Maggie wanted solids at 5 mos, so oops - but she still mostly breastfed - we didn't do more than 1 "meal" - more like a few teaspoons - per day until after 6 mos. Still my tiny rush of pride faded, as I realized I was just another of the dupes).

The Case Against Breastfeeding

Then my friend JTB alerted me to The Case Against The Case Against Breastfeeding, at the "mother of all parenting blogs," Strollerderby (love that name). There, Madeline Holler eloquently expressed many of my feelings about the former article, including the main points which are: the workplace system in this country can't handle motherhood, and those who cannot breastfeed shouldn't be judged or made to feel "less than" (in my more soapbox moments, however, I do feel that those who just "don't like it" maybe should try a little harder, like I did...but I realize that's bitchy of me. Wanting others to suffer like you did is one of the worst things women do to each other - especially in the workplace and academia - so I really have no place adding to that misery. Still it's sure tempting).

For more on fixing the first situation, see this older article in the Atlantic: The Parent Trap.

As for those who can't breastfeed and really want to, my heart goes out to them. For those who don't want to, I've said enough above. But I don't find it helpful to present a case that makes those of us who managed - who did grit our teeth through the pain and endured the endless nights and finally, finally found that perfect latch that made it actually pleasureable (which lasted about 10 minutes until teeth set in and everything changed...including the wonderful new world of biting!) - I don't find it helpful or feminist (in the sense of promoting what's best for women - which includes our baby daughters, I add) to make those women feel like tools because we haven't figured out that we could really be liberated by science if we'd just get over ourselves.

Bleh. The line that keeps sticking with me is when she says that breastfeeding is only free if you consider a woman's time to be worth nothing.

Good point. Except: what in the world could I be doing with my time that is more important or fulfilling than feeding another human being?! Than providing her everything she needs - not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually! The whole problem is thinking of bfeeding as a waste of time, as something you have to get through to get on to whatever in your life is more important than this little leech that just wants to suck your life juice out.

Or...you can think of it like this: there's a helpless human being that knows nothing in the universe except the sound of your voice and heartbeat, who trusts you with her very life, with everything she is, to provide her warmth and love and fill her tummy, all while giving her the only thing she needs besides nourishment: your attention, your self. Yes, sometimes it's all of yourself. Yes, sometimes you lose yourself in it. Yes, you don't have your own thoughts or worries for a while.

Wait, isn't that a good thing?

I have gotten to the point with breastfeeding that not only do I derive great pleasure from the act, both chemically and just from the closeness it provides, but I welcome the respite from the busyness, and I am glad to have something to offer that almost always serves as a comfort and a sanctuary of peace for us both, and you know what? It is good for this mommy. It's not taking anything away - it's adding to my life. It's so much better for me than if I were trying to mix bottles and convince J to offer half of them. How much nicer to just lay down next to my darling one and pull her close to me? It's so relaxing, and there's no wondering if she's had enough, and no forcing more on her, and no waste at all. And when I can remember to calm down about it and just be there with her, I derive so much satisfaction and fulfillment from the act. I feel complete as a woman.

Maybe that's horribly un-feminist to say; then again, what is more womanly than using what God gave me? I not only helped to create life; I help to sustain it. In this way, I emulate my Mother in Heaven. What's more awe-inspiring than that? Why in the world do we think that is somehow less than going to an office all day?? If it is what I want to do, what I feel called to do, then I'm not selling myself short at all.

Lately Maggie has been rather fascinated with my nipples; she stops feeding and then kind of plays with them and looks at them with I swear is love in her eyes. She clearly knows where her food comes from and she's grateful. She kind of has this amazed look - like she's starting to understand the difference between what I feed her on a spoon and what comes straight from momma. I love that she's getting that.

This morning when I'd had enough of her play I said, "OK, nursing goes bye bye" and I closed up shop. And she actually waved bye bye to my boob! Then she said, for the first time ever, "bye bye." And I stopped and I looked at her and said, "What?!" and she repeated, "bye bye."

It was so adorable (I love her little voice - can't wait for her to talk more!). My child actually bid adieu to the breast. It's basically a friend to her; it's definitely her security as well as her food source. It's so much more than a bottle could be. So while not diminishing those who cannot, let me just add that for those of us who breastfeed, there IS a lot to be said for it. I, for one, am in no hurry to give it up (may feel differently with future kids, of course), and I no longer EVER do it out of some sense of guilt or dispensing medicine. Maybe at first, but those days are long gone. And in the future, I will know that this feeling is coming, even if it's not there at the beginning, so I really can't see myself not pushing through to get to the wonderful stage.

OK, that's more than I meant to write, but this really got me going! Time to get my little helper and be off to church.

scary

2009-03-13T09:23:00.000-07:00

You know what is scary and humbling? Googling the words "the Feminarian." I didn't exactly do this - J showed me how to look up the IP addresses and referral sites of the people who visit this blog (so watch out...I know who you are now! Who's reading from USC by the way? Fight on!). As I was noodling around on there, I clicked on one of the referral links, which was a person who'd googled those words. And what a scary lot of stuff came up!

Mostly I found other bloggers who had found me back in the glory days when I was writing my posts on sex and/or stuff about theology and exclusivism that totally makes me balk now (not the sex, the exclusive stuff). It's actually pretty wild to look at another person's questioning take on my views (cough...Hugo), that I now totally agree with.

That is what has made writing this blog so worthwhile: I've sensed that I'm changing so much through these last few years, and through the blog I have actual evidence that it's so. I can track the twists and turns in my journey, the days I was stupid and the days I got it right. I guess this is why people keep diaries, huh? Somehow I never could journal on paper (my handwriting can't keep up with my thoughts, I suppose), but I've managed to keep this blog going for what, like 5 years now? And I'm really excited that one day I will be able to show it to my daughter and she'll learn way more than she ever wanted to know about her mom. Ha. My own mom learns way more than she wants to know about me by reading this...although I don't think I can surprise her anymore.

These days, I feel so guilty because I know I'm not up to the par I used to be at, and I post so irregularly (but you can be a "follower" now if you have blogger, so you don't have to check - or I've just posted the blog on the networkedblogs app on facebook, too, which I think will send you updates). My brain's a little consumed with other business, or is so fried when I have a moment to write that nothing will come out.

So to those of you who've stuck with me thank you, and I'm sorry, and I will try to be brilliant again one day. I really am serious about trying to make a go at writing, so I need to stay in practice. I can't let my brain lose all its theological brilliance quite yet.

BTW if you didn't already know it the job market sucks and is especially crappy for newly-minted Phds in the humanities. So if you're one of those lucky ones in school, stay there. Seriously, there's no reason to finish. Poor J is rushing through his dissertation but only Starbucks awaits on the other side. At least he'll have good conversations with the other highly-educated baristas.

I'm kidding: J can't work at Starbucks. He once was hired there and stopped showing up when a Hollywood gig came along. Little did we know that after two masters and a doctorate he'd need to be knocking on their door again. Oh well, at least there's always Peet's.

As usual I wind up being the one who's imminently employable. It makes trying to be a SAHM very difficult. And maybe we'd just send me off to work and let J stay home except he hates that and I do too. Bummer.

But I found this amazing job opportunity: it's a campus ministry position at UC Santa Cruz. It's part time. It's progressive. It's for a ministry called "Feast," for crying out loud. I was born in Santa Cruz (well, close by). There are a lot of funky stars aligning on this one. It's the one thing I could see myself coming out of "retirement" to do. We'll see. They're not interviewing until after Easter, but I sent in my resume and I really genuinely want to go for it. Of course, me working p/t isn't enough, but it's better than nothing.

Anyway I am thrilled that it is Friday so I get to go to the Food Pantry, the highlight of my (and Maggie's) week. I've even gotten a new friend from CDSP to come along this time. No matter where I go in life, I now know that I must find a way to feed people. It's one of the most wonderful things any of us can do.

But back to my original topic, the finding out of what other people say about me & the blog. I always stayed blissfully ignorant of my "press"; I preferred to pretend nobody actually read this stuff, which kept me able to be honest and forthright. Now I know who reads it (too many relatives! and colleagues) and I'm all self-censoring and nervous and I can't get all uppity like I used to. The Feminarian has been spayed. Not really, but it's no longer a separate character - a crazy out-there version of my extreme viewpoints. It's a lot more just me these days. Which has good points and bad points and is probably a lot more boring.

Well I have to run too soon, as always anymore. Glad a few of you are still out there, even if nobody's written about the Feminarian for a few years. She's not completely retired. Perhaps now that I've got a tiny bit more time, she will rise again every now & then.

45 Questions

2009-03-10T17:16:00.000-07:00

So these crazy lists have been going around facebook and I already did my 25 random things on there (become my friend to see it), but I figured might as well answer this one here on the blog, because I find the questions sort of interesting and you all might want to see, and it will import to facebook anyway so two birds and all that.

I didn't do the list of questions to ask your kid b/c my kid can only say "Da" and "Cat." No "mama" in sight. Sigh.

Anyhoo, here's a list of random factoids:

1. Do you like blue cheese?
Very much

2. Have you ever smoked?
I tried one cigarette w/my boyfriend when I turned 18. I thought it was disgusting and threw it down after one drag. He, incidentally, wound up addicted (he finished that first pack so as not to waste it, and the rest is history...)
I had a chance to smoke pot but I had to preach the next day and I was worried about the after-effects (true story). I never got another opportunity and then those friends moved away, darn it. I would try it if I had the chance. Don't tell my mom.

3. Do you own a gun?
Hell no

4. What flavor of Kool Aid was your favorite?
I don't remember. Red, I suppose. We didn't get to have much Kool Aid (I'm grateful for that)

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?
Yes, especially prenatal ones.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Once I found Niman Ranch Fearless Franks, I discovered they can be pretty damn tasty. They should only be cooked over an open flame, preferably followed by s'mores.

7. Favorite Christmas movie?
It was White Christmas for years and years, but nowadays it's Love Actually. I also watch Scrooge (the musical) every year on Christmas day.

8. Favorite thing to drink in the morning?
A latte, but usually I just have black coffee

9. Can you do push ups?
a few, tho I haven't tried since giving birth

10.What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
I love the celtic cross that John bought me at the Iona Abbey, and a diamond bracelet I got from my granny when she died

11 What is your favorite hobby?
writing and watching tv/movies

12. Do you have A.D.D?
No

13. What's one trait you hate about yourself?
I talk about myself and my baby too much and feel like I'm not a very good friend anymore

14. Middle name?
Grace

15. Best Birthday?
I think probably when we had the fiesta downtown in our loft, and did the pinata from the ceiling and it was catered by Ciudad (the Too Hot Tamales' restaurant). Yeah, that one was way fun. Although the one I spent in Scotland wasn't bad either.

16. Name 3 things you regularly drink:
sparkling water & pineapple juice (usually mixed together) and whole milk (not mixed with anything except the occasional cookie crumb)

17. How many siblings do you have?
Sister and brother both younger

18. Current "I hate it right now?":
I hate insecurity

19. Favorite place to be?
Los Angeles

20. How did you bring in the New Year last year?
Ha - at my in-laws, fast asleep

21. Where would you like to go?
India and Italy

22. Name three people who might complete this:
No.

23. Do you own slippers?
Yes, thanks to mom who got me some for xmas. Otherwise I have half a dozen pairs of slipper socks with sticky bottoms.

24. What shirt are you wearing?
Blue, textured fabric, and really old - had it since college.

25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
Yes, but I prefer super-soft cotton, and I hate flannel.

26. Can you whistle?
Yes

27. Favorite Color?
Anymore it's really pink, and I know how weird that is for a feminist.

28. Would you be a pirate?
Depends on the booty.

29. What songs do you sing in the shower?
These days it's usually whatever I was just singing to Maggie: either Taize or Baby Beluga.

30. Favorite girl names?
Lux/Lucia, Kumari, Serenity (eat it, J), Joss, Anastasia, Grace

31. Favorite boy names?
Joss, Peter, Ashley, Rufus

32. What's in your pocket right now?
Nothing, but earlier I had my license and a Starbucks card and a twenty.

33. Last thing to make you laugh?
I don't recall but I'm sure it was Maggie doing something

34. What vehicle do you drive?
1998 Mitsubishi Mirage, the little car that just won't give up (thanks be to God).

35. Worst injury you've ever had?
Tearing during childbirth! At least, that was most painful and longest recovery. I've never had anything major go wrong (knock on wood).

36. Do you love where you live?
No, but I'm tolerating it better these days.

37. How many TVs do you have in your house?
One in our part. There are two others in the part we aren't living in that belong to my landlady.

38. Who is your loudest friend?
Jett Whitworth. Sorry dude, it's true. Oh, and my niece Vallarie. She gives him a run for his money.

39. Do you have any pets?
Yes, two neglected cats, Kitty and Tyke.

40. Does someone have a crush on you?
I think Maggie does.

41. Your favorite book(s):
I really couldn't choose amongst them, but I guess I'd say the Bible (to be painfully cliche).

42. Do you collect anything?
I collected bears growing up. Now I guess I collect books and movies.

43. Favorite Sports Team?
USC Trojans (growing up, it was the Bruins. Yes, I'm a turncoat, but I know who butters my bread, so to speak)

44. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Faure's Requiem

45. What are you listening to right now?
John reading "Good Night, Los Angeles" to Maggie. Muted traffic and wind chimes outside. Some ringing in my right ear where the earwax has built up.

My church

2009-03-06T09:27:00.000-08:00

Though I may quibble with some of the liturgical and theological choices my church here in SF has made (someday I will get around to writing about the importance of liturgical seasons, which I'm learning by being deprived of them, and some kind of gospel that does include sin or at least personal responsibility), one cannot argue with the fact that their ministries rock.

I've written about how much I've been blessed by working at the food pantry. Last night Sara served as guest chef for a guerrilla restaurant in the city, serving only locally-sourced (hyper-local - like neighborhood backyards!) food, with Eucharist at midnight, and proceeds going to the pantry. How cool is that? I'm sure it was a huge success...I only wish I could have gone (but bedtime duty prevented me). I was so proud when I opened my ideal bite email and saw them featured!

Now that we're in Lent, preparations are underway for Easter, the biggest deal at St. Gregory's. And I'm pleased to have been asked to participate. Looks like I'll get to do a reading or even cantor. I'm grateful to be involved directly in worship again. And I think after that, after Maggie's just a bit older and going in the nursery (hopefully), I'll start thinking about serving as a deacon, which at this church doesn't require ordination. It just means I'd be part of the welcoming and hospitality crew, and help lead various parts of the service and assist at the altar (basically the stuff I did at my field ed internship). So that will be cool. I've really missed being "up front" in worship, not because I care about anybody noticing me (in fact it's been lovely to be somewhat anonymous for a while), but because I really do feel I have some gifts to offer - projection, smiles, vocal range, memory, and so forth - that are best utilized in this ministry.

Oh, and it looks like I'm going to participate in a gathering of Anglimergent folks that is meeting at St. G's this month. If you're interested in attending, all are welcome. You should at least join the online community if you find these things of interest.

Overall I'm feeling really positive about our church choice. So much so that I'll be sad if we do only wind up there for a year or less. Things are so up in the air right now...more about that another time. Suffice to say that the job situation is looking pretty dire, and no job = no money for rent = possibly moving in with family. Definitely not anybody's favorite option, but there may be no choice.

Anyway the point of all this is that we're becoming members this Sunday, me John & Maggie. Yay us. That means we need to be more involved, thus my musings on ministry. Maggie and I already have our food pantry work, though. I have to tease J that Maggie found her ministry before he did. But he is meeting with the rector today to talk about what his ministry might be. I hope he becomes philosopher-in-residence. :)

I'll end with a quote my mom sent me that feels really pertinent right now:
"You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear (one), as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

—Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

This guy is my homie

2009-03-03T08:57:00.000-08:00

http://gracebeforemeals.com/

(and a Washington Post article on him)

Lenten meditations

2009-02-25T11:56:00.001-08:00

As usual, I am floored by something I read shortly after ranting on my blog. This site from my church home in LA will be updated throughout Lent with meditations from parishioners. Here is how today's meditation ended:

"That is why we set some small portion of ourselves aside this Lenten season, so that we might follow God's Lamb and become one of His sheep. What will you put away? A grudge? Self-doubt? Perhaps disbelief in the gifts God has given you?"

Now there's some stuff I could stand to give up for Lent.

My own thoughts

2009-02-25T11:05:00.000-08:00

OK, baby is down, that only took like an hour. And her dad had to do it in the end. He pretty much always has to put her down for naps...it's not until he takes her that she knows it's business time. (of course, not in the Flight of the Conchords way)

So I realized that what I'm really missing is having my own thoughts and the time to think them. My brain is usually consumed with staying one step ahead of Maggie so that she isn't hungry, bored, poopy, or overtired, and if I get her actually happily playing alone (which is really rare because she bores easily and she wants someone to play with her all the time, little social creature), then it's time to do chores while thinking about what to make for dinner. I'm actually starting to somewhat enjoy cooking (good thing for a foodie, huh), though I wish my knife skills were sharper (ha ha). I have learned that I'm way better at improvising than at following recipes, pretty much the opposite of J, so that makes for some interesting debates in the kitchen (plus his OCD tendencies make him really crazed when I'm not following something to the letter and substituting this and that).

But happily, I got an offer today to start doing book reviews for theooze, which is a site I respect and I'd enjoy the writing, I think. I also just signed my contract for the Jesus Girls book, and I'm trying to figure out if there's a parenting magazine that might like my story about choosing the baby over the PhD (for now). All this to say that I have outlets for my thoughts, if I could only find the time to think them.

Life is a strange rollercoaster (mine is way too crazy to be something so prosaic as a "journey"). I should probably be grateful that I don't have time to think. When I catch myself with a moment, I'm usually discovering there is nothing but bad news to ponder. J probably isn't getting a job this cycle, which means it's almost another year before he can look again (and he wouldn't be starting anything until Fall 2010...ay). We have the dreadful decision ahead of us of where to live while we're putzing around waiting for work...both sets of in-laws have the veto from the respective child, and it seems dumb to move back to LA for merely sentimental reasons when that would cost a small fortune and we could probably never find a place like we have here for comparable rent. So I face the prospect of living someplace I'm not very happy with no reason to be here. And yes, I am making the best of it - I love working at the food pantry, I have a few friends, and I try to see my family as much as possible. But it is strange to be stuck here.

You know how you're supposed to live your life so as not to have any regrets? Well I try to, I really do. But when you live that way, you're almost destined to have regrets! Why? Because you're going to take big risks! Or you'll take none, but then it seems that you'd regret never trying anything. No, I think when people say that they mean that you're supposed to get out there and live. But what they don't tell you is that sometimes that means you're going to make a giant leap and fall flat on your face.

Like when I completely screwed up my ordination process, twice. Dumb dumb dumb.

And when I moved my family up here for something I already sensed my heart wasn't in. Idiocy.

I have three friends from seminary who weren't even Episcopalian when I met them (all less than four years ago). I was already ostensibly in the ordination track when I met them. I did my degree and my internships first. I had been Episcopalian for longer. I'd had three freaking committees. Oh, and did I mention that none of them had ever really considered the priesthood as a vocation?

And these three friends are all in the final stages of their parish discernment and about to become postulants. I mean, how does that happen?? Yes, partly it is that they magically chose the right churches to be at and I did not. And partly it is that I did stupid things that messed up my process.

But there's a little part of me that feels like they must somehow be far worthier than me, far more priestly, far more deserving. And they probably don't feel that way, which just confirms their superiority - they're humble servants, and I'm just a whiney baby who is pissed that I haven't gotten my way and that nobody's recognizing the gifts I so obviously possess. Geezu. I'm such a freak.

One day this will all be an anecdote, right?

(that's what my cousin told me about the sleep training we're trying...which I also failed at miserably, btw)

Nobody warned me that if you live life to the fullest you have the chance of falling flat. The party line is that you'll be happy no matter what because you'll be living so well. Yeah, well, I'm in the moment constantly now - and don't get me wrong, it's nice not to think about how crappy, for instance, my financial situation is - but it is tiring. Because there's something in me that always looks ahead to the next thing (it's why I never held jobs or apartments for long); and there's something in me that's always evaluating the past to see how it's led to where I am, and how I can improve. I've always been so driven (my elementary school teachers used to scold my parents not to push me so hard, and they would have to tell them it was all me - they tried to hold back my relentless pursuit of perfection). It's weird to put on the brakes and suddenly not be pushing for a goal - except the goal of raising a human being, forming her perceptions of the world and her language and creativity and empathy. Yeah, that stuff.

I did have a great moment today. I was trying to get her to nap and was frustrated at the endless rocking I was doing (because I would have rather been reading blogs about American Idol, if you must know). And I suddenly realized that my only job in that moment was to love this child, and to make sure she knew that she was absolutely loved and safe and that her mommy would rather be doing nothing else than hold her. And I looked in her eyes and I could see her shift - like she realized she suddenly had my full attention, and she gave it back. It only lasted a few moments, and it didn't help with getting her down for her nap. But it was a helpful momentary reprieve from my racing thoughts and my yearning to be doing something else all the time.

Anyway I'm sure I haven't destroyed my life or anything, that's not what I mean. I just kind of feel like I'm swimming in a sea of, I don't know, peanut butter or something. Life's gotten all sticky and viscous. And sloooooow. And opaque.

And...ha ha...nutty.

2009-02-25T10:11:00.000-08:00

Hi, it's me, resurfacing after a couple weeks of this SAHM experiment. Well damned if it isn't about the hardest thing I've ever tried. These women were not kidding when they said it was all-consuming! Quite honestly, it's not so much the baby care that wears me down - it's the damn housework. I haaaaate housework. I've been thinking I need to go to work just so I can afford a maid. But what would happen then is that all the money I made would probably go to childcare, and I'd be working and still have to clean house. Blech. At least then J would have to pitch in.

Right now I'm a dissertation widow. It's very lonely. You know, last semester, when I was the one supposedly working full-time in school, I still somehow managed to take off 50% of every day to spend with Maggie. I didn't really help around the house, it's true, but I watched the baby so that he could do that. And right now, just someone to play with her so I could clean would be huge.

How is it that women instinctively feel this obligation to be everything, and men actually don't seem to feel any guilt at all about devoting themselves just to their work (or their project or whatever it is that they are engrossed in at the moment)? I bet it has something to do with multi-tasking ability, which supposedly men don't have. If it doesn't occur to you to do two things at once - or even be aware of something outside your current project - then how could you feel guilty for not keeping your mind on multiple tasks?

Speaking of, I need to go get my crying baby. I had a whole great speech about my vocation - how I still want and feel called to ministry, blah blah - but my primary vocation is calling. Toodles.

A recipe, a memory

2009-02-21T19:16:00.000-08:00

I got this email from my foodie list serv about an already accepted book proposal that is seeking submissions! I don't have anything to contribute, but I thought someone I know might, so I'm passing it along. Incidentally, I just got my contract in the mail today for Jesus Girls, and I'll post more info as I learn about its publication (this is the collection of essays by women who grew up evangelical to which I contributed my story about the "exorcism" I experienced in college).

Anyway, here's the message:
I am absolutely ecstatic to announce that my book proposal has found a home at Praeger Publishing! It will be titled: Storied Dishes: What Our Family Favorites Tell Us About Who We Are and Where We've Been.

In the meantime, I am looking for about another 15 more essays of 1100-1200 words each, accompanied by a recipe to round out the collection. These should be compelling memories about a woman friend or family member who has provided a significant recipe. I want to include women with a broad range of ethnic backgrounds, especially right now Mexican, African-American and American Indian, but not limited in any way. If you are interested in details or want to submit a query, please contact me offlist at lmberzok@hotmail.com.

Thank you.

Linda Murray Berzok, MA

So about school...

2009-02-12T10:03:00.001-08:00

A funny thing happened on the way to my PhD.

I fell in love.

I didn't mean to - the people who have known me the longest couldn't have predicted it. I had always said I didn't really want children, then later, didn't care whether I had them or not. When I met my husband, I said I thought I could see having kids with him, since he was pretty cool and all. But then we were married for nearly ten years and I got caught up in career and graduate work and I just didn't really think I had the time or energy to devote to another human being.

But then I met Maggie.

And wouldn't you know it, I fell hard. Even though her first weeks were a mess of screaming and tears and feeding frustrations and complete feelings of inadequacy on my part, I was hooked. No one had ever needed me like this little person did. No matter how unprepared or ignorant or overwhelmed I was, she still needed me above all others.

That kind of trust - that throws itself onto you with complete abandon and just believes that you'll live up to what it needs - rarely if ever happens between adults. But it is required between a mother and her child. It is, in fact, the way that it's supposed to be done, the way things are meant to be - the whole reason, I suppose, that mommies are given all these extra hormones and other physical helps to induce feelings of euphoria, strength, and even love.

I don't know if it was the hormones or the lack of sleep or prescience, but I had a thought a couple weeks after she was born: do I really want to go through with moving us far from home, away from our friends and support systems, to do more school at a place I don't know with people I've never met? I even blogged about it back then. And some of you wrote back to say yes, don't give up, if you don't at least try school you'll always regret it; and at least one person wrote to say listen to the doubt and give in to the oh-so-un-pc desire to halt your academic career.

I took in all the advice, and I prayed, and I talked with my husband the most, and we agreed that I would probably feel differently in a few months, when the whole motherhood thing wasn't so fresh, and besides, we'd already made all the arrangements and given our landlord notice and, well, the train had pretty much left the station, so off we went.

The summer was a beautiful time, and a difficult and crazy time, us getting to know our child and redefining ourselves as a three-person family. Our poor cats became sorely neglected. We painted the living room of the first real house we've lived in. We had to take on housemates, which turned out to be a disaster (but that's another story). Maggie's paternal grandparents met her, and all her Northern California family met her, and a couple dear friends from LA visited. And we found a church.

At some point near the beginning of school, J and I were walking and I admitted that I was terrified of starting the program; I didn't think I was smart enough or committed enough and I didn't want to leave my daughter so soon. He could reassure me about the first, encouraged me about the second, and reminded me, in reference to the third, that he was taking care of her, and really, it was good for her to have that time with her daddy. And so, once again, I relented.

But the first week of class came, and I found myself fighting back tears through the whole miserable three hours I was sitting there. I couldn't concentrate on our discussion, I could only think about my baby. And when I got home, all I wanted to do was play with her and feed her and cuddle her, I didn't care about reading. The things I was studying suddenly seemed hopelessly irrelevant. My brain had switched over to a different sort of intelligence - something more primal and creative and instinctive and, well, right-brained - and it was hard to make the switch back to taking in facts and making arguments and memorizing history and thinking critically.

I was not able to see the big picture anymore - I was living in the moment, because that's how babies live. I was looking as far as the next diaper change, the next feeding, and that was it. That was all we needed. It was incredibly freeing.

So I would take as much time as I dared with her every week, and then endure the grueling hours of reading (when she had to be taken away for I was too distracted with her around) and going to class. It was just the wrong timing. I shouldn't have gone back so soon; I shouldn't have tried to do it all with only a three-month-old. Had I not tried to jump in the deep end, I might have found myself more willing to continue. But I was drowning. I literally felt like I couldn't breathe.

After my nice long nearly two-month break between semesters, I was refreshed and ready to try one (easy) class to get through the spring. I figured if I took something really interesting, and got through the first year of motherhood still in the degree program, I could at least see if I actually wanted to pursue it the rest of the way. And nobody could say I hadn't given it a good long shot.

But then my advisor, ever the wise woman, said to me, ever so simply, "You are consumed by being a mother. And you have to honor that. Someday, maybe, you'll be ready to be mother and..., but for now, you are just mother. So be that. And when you sense that you want to be mother plus something else, then listen to that voice too. Honor both of those callings, because that is who you are."

Ah yes. She was right. I couldn't deny it.

So I am not taking classes this semester. I wasn't ready to completely drop out, because that's just so final, and I keep having inklings that I might feel differently. So I'm holding on just a little longer - don't have anywhere else to be anyway! - just in case. One thing I've learned is that I can never predict where my life will take me.

Plus I have the recent PPD diagnosis, and I know it is not wise to make giant life-altering decisions under the pressure of depression. So I am resting, getting well, indulging myself completely in motherhood, and then I will see: I may be invigorated and in love with life, or I may find myself bored to tears. I cannot say now, I plan to wait and see. It's rather exciting, actually.

As for the PhD, I know that at one time I was a person who wanted to do it. I know I am still a person who could do it. I had every intention of doing it, and my motives were pure in coming here. I could not have predicted the way I wound up feeling about it. But I have to listen.

It is interesting: as I spent time with the other geeks of my field, I saw just how, for once in my life, un-geeky I was. I really didn't care that much about the trivia of our study, and the major figures sort of blurred together, and the history and factoids seemed rather obtuse. I found myself longing for - of all things - the practicality of the MDiv, the on-the-ground action of pastoral work. I kept bringing every discussion back to the here-and-now, to the churches that are the mainstream (instead of those that are the ideal or are at least pursuing that), to the worship lives of everyday persons, not scholars, not priests. And I know that real life is the true passion of every liturgist, but I found myself more impatient than most to get back to it. And I think that is largely because of my baby, of the urgency that life has taken on now that there is this person who is experiencing everything for the first time, and how I see the time passing so quickly, and realize that we have only so much impact on this world. What am I doing with my life?

Many things I would love to do: parish ministry, consultation with churches (diocesan food guru?), creating liturgies, writing, campus ministry - none of these require a PhD. It could help, but it's not all that necessary. And GTU is a great school, and the PhD there is a lot of work. So I have to consider whether I'm up for that - for seven years or so of waiting to put my theory into action. After my experience last week at the food pantry, I'm not sure I can. It's just way too much fun to actually be out doing ministry!

So we will see. I might consider another field, since the liturgy box feels a bit tight at the moment. Maybe spirituality or interdisciplinary studies. Or I might find that I just want to raise my kid, and some more kidlets, for a while. Or I might fall into some sort of ministry, and find myself back on the ordination track by the grace of God. There are so many ways life could go. What a crazy journey it's been already; and there are surely more twists and turns ahead.

This is what I've been waiting to talk about, and bursting to say, for months now. I couldn't, for fear of who might read it, let my hand show. But now it's pretty much all out there, so I can reveal why I've been a bit tight-lipped and anxious for so long. I do feel like I can breathe a bit, and that this reprieve will be an excellent time of soul-searching and path-discerning.

And I hope that my story can help other women to honor the voice inside, whatever it might be telling them, no matter how unpopular it may be, how un-feminist, or how far off the road they thought they were traveling. So life throws a curve ball. So what? That's so often how we find the next great thing, or the part of ourselves that needs to open up and see the light, or the blessing God is preparing us to receive and to give.

Louis Weil said this to me: "We can only know when a new turn must be taken by walking along another path first. In my life, these unexpected turns have been very fruitful..."

I'm excited to see what will happen next. And I'm glad you're along for the ride.

God Feeds Us All

2009-02-07T12:00:00.001-08:00

That's what Sara Miles told me the other day. She also told me that if she'd known, when her child was small, what she knows now, she'd have asked for a lot more help.

We have gotten to the point where we have to ask for help to feed ourselves and our baby. And it has actually been a blessing! I'm really surprised - rather than feel humiliated and/or guilty, the people we've worked with have made us feel welcome and deserving. Nobody, it turns out, seems to mind feeding an infant and a breastfeeding mum. Kudos. [plus it turns out we spent years paying into the system, so, our social worker says, we shouldn't feel bad at all about taking out what we put in! true enough!]

So a shout-out to the WIC program, which is providing me & Maggie with dairy, cereal, and some protein. Unfortunately, we can't get any organics, which is really sad - seems the government should support the healthier options (both for our bodies and for the earth), since in the long run that saves money on healthcare, environmental cleanup, etc. (but of course the long run is rarely considered - just look at the national debt).

One thing that was super cool was when we were in the WIC office we noted that they don't offer any vouchers for basically anything fresh (except dairy) - no fruits or veggies, or even whole grains. Basically, nothing especially healthy. One month a year (one month!) you can get a voucher to take to the farmer's market (at least we have found a local market that accepts WIC, instead of a chain store, thankfully). BUT the woman told us that in October this year, a lot of that is going to change - they are going to phase out the vouchers for processed cereal and start including more whole grains, and probably start including some produce as well.

And I realized - that's the Farm Bill in action! How exciting to see something that I worked on and lobbied for actually going into effect (and I didn't even realize it would be affecting my life!). I was really psyched when I figured that one out. Yay to all of us who wrote to congress - I can vouch for the difference it will make.

It is funny - if you go through our current shopping guide, there are all these photos of GM and Gerber products. It's pretty obvious that this program has been paid for by some corporations. Wow - thank goodness that is changing!

The other thing I did was go work at the food pantry at my church yesterday, and what a thrill that was! I had SO much fun! I think partly it was just really great to get out of myself (you turn in on yourself so much when you are depressed) and focus on others, but also there is this amazing family atmosphere amongst the volunteers. And many of the volunteers are homeless or down-on-their-luck - it's a totally different vibe from the "rich man's burden" approach to helping the destitute. (and I'm among those who needed the groceries, so I was grateful not to feel like a schlub) All the people I encountered were really thankful and happy - it was so collegial and respectful. It felt so good.

I took Maggie along, both to teach her early about volunteering (plan to take her as she grows), but also because I know that babies bring joy. And boy did she! We got smiles, cheek-pinches, "cute" in so many languages! It was such fun. She actually sat on my table and got out the boullion we were in charge of, handed it to me, and I handed it to the people. It was seriously adorable. So many people thanked me for bringing her. She really lit up the room. I consider it such a privilege to have this little hospitality minister to offer to the world!

Plus we came home with SO much food! Way more than I could have imagined - it's such a generous pantry. I wanted to call up my friends and throw a party! Maybe I will - Friday nights at my house, people - we'll cook up whatever we've gotten! Last night we had salmon w/tapenade, caprese salad, and a baguette - all courtesy of Trader Joe's, all just past its date. Wow. Plus I have produce for a week - between the pantry, our CSA box, and WIC, we may never had to grocery shop again. [And the CSA will be the last to go - not only is it a great deal at around $50/month, but I believe in supporting a family farm more than a corporate store]

I'm not sure if I felt so in my element because I was serving, or because I was being a proud mama, or because it was food-related, or because it was joining a new community...probably a combo of all these and more. J and I were trying to analyze it, since I came home on such a high. There was something there that touched my passion and vocation, obviously - I just have to figure out what it was, then find a job/ministry that matches it, right?

Anyway it was a joy and definitely something I plan to do every week. You can't buy that kind of fulfillment!

All this to say, I'm so glad I've asked for help, because it is blessing me a hundredfold, way beyond the actual food. Thanks be to God.

God, women and stealing

2009-02-05T13:57:00.001-08:00

A really fine essay by Joan Chittister, OSB. It starts:

"Stealing is a sin," we teach to our children and preach to our converts and enshrine on the tablets of Ten Commandments we display in our public institutions. But don't worry, we don't really mean it. We don't believe it. We don't practice it; we don't argue for it and we don't protect it. In fact, use enough legislation and enough god-talk and, in certain well defined arenas, it can be absolutely virtuous to steal. Ask any woman.

Giving in

2009-01-31T11:21:00.001-08:00

So the last week has pretty much been hell for me. Part of it was the trauma of my family leaving, which meant the end of a month and a half of visiting and the beginning of a long stretch with no family in sight. Part of it was letting my advisor know about my ambivalence about my program, and anticipating a meeting with her that will end I don't know how (though I think she's going to be more than understanding and supportive, judging by our past conversations and what others have told me). And money is really starting to become a pressure, as more and more schools adopt hiring freezes and/or send rejection notices.

But actually what really has put me over the edge has been an inability to tolerate my husband (not matter what he says or does - just completely irrational fighting), a growing despair over dealing with my child (who has been in a fussy/clingy phase, almost as bad as when she was a newborn with the nonstop screaming, and we've been getting almost no sleep), and most tellingly, I began to "lose" time - that strange phenomenon when you have no memory of what happened in the last few days at certain intervals. And then the "fog out" periods were causing me to make mistakes that were stupid (like leaving the car lights on and killing the battery twice, and losing my keys for 4 days) and things that could be potentially dangerous (I don't really want to go into a fog while driving my daughter around).

This last issue was symptomatic of my previous depression. And the middle one, I know, is a sign of post partum depression. All this time I'd been watching out for PPD, because I knew I was at high risk. And all this time, no matter how bad things got, I always could hold on to the love I had for her. She was my anchor, my joy, my light. But when that started to fade, and I found myself not exactly wanting to hurt her, but not exactly loving my time with her, then I knew I needed to get help. I lost my ability to get creative and maintain constant chipperness in the face of her nonstop need. She actually is gaining the awareness of wanting her way and reacting very angrily when she doesn't get it...she will look me in the eye and just scream, and I can tell she's not hurt or sad, she is mad. Then she'll smile at J, then look back at me (who is the one keeping her from whatever she wants) and scream in my face. It's really hard not to think she's becoming a brat. I don't know what age they can start being manipulative (I've read it's not until 2 or so), but man, she seems advanced in that area. Anyway.

My insomnia came roaring back too, which sucks when you are up every hour with a hungry infant (well, one that thinks she needs to eat, anyway). And the anxiety, the obsessing over little errors, the worry...it all hit really quite fast. But I knew what it was.

So I went to see the p-sychiatrist, and after waiting an hour and a half (!!) I finally got to see him, and he was wonderful and really proactive. He even worked with me to make sure I got my meds in the cheapest way (not through Kaiser) and offered to follow up with phone calls instead of visits if the co-pays were too much for us. He really took care of me, I felt. That went a long way towards healing some of the idiocy I've experienced with the Kaiser people up here.

Plus, bonus! He is referring me to his colleague, a woman who just happens to be an international expert on women's health and specifically hormonal issues. She will hopefully be able to work with me through not only the PPD but also some of my sexual crap that gets in the way of living happily. It's really wonderful that she's there.

Since I have experience on medication, it was easy to just try what has worked in the past, and fortunately it's one of the ones that has been studied well in breastfeeding and is considered safe. And as my doctor said, it's more dangerous for me to be in the state I was in, than for my baby to get 1/1000th of a dose of paxil. This keeps being confirmed for me (paxil doesn't work overnight) - that just about anything is better than my child continuing in the toxic environment that is our house right now. Poor thing wants me, but my arms aren't a very good place for her either.

So that is where I'm at. You blog readers have probably seen this coming for a while; and many of my face-to-face friends will be like "duh." Nowadays this blog imports into Facebook, so there's this whole new audience amassed of old high school acquaintances and new colleagues and random people from around the world...going to be interesting for them to start seeing how bare I lay myself in writing.

Oh and one thing: I do realize there are many alternatives to medication for helping with depression, and I have tried most of them over the last 8 mos - that's why I've managed so far. But please trust me that I knew this time that sunlight, walks, baths, and journaling just couldn't cut it. When your brain starts rebelling on you, you have to take measures to correct the chemical imbalance. I realize advice is always given with good intentions, but at this point, I want to listen to my doctor's advice mostly.

OK, it is a gorgeous day in Berkeley, and I need to get myself outside for a while. Later.

Liberals, Schmiberals

2009-01-26T19:01:00.000-08:00

I've about had it with the liberals.

I mean, I really thought the conservatives had the market cornered on asshishness (yeah, I invented that word), but I don't know anymore. There is such freaking hubris on both sides.

My colleague Christopher wrote this great note on Facebook about the dangers of triumphalism, centered on the email that's been floating around apologizing for America's "service outage" over the last eight years. Now I'll admit it was kind of funny and cute. These things were...before we "won." Now it just seems obnoxious.

There are actually people (not many, but a few) in this country who didn't vote for Obama, and who maybe are even a bit pissed off that he's president (or at least worried about it). I remember how much it sucked to be on the losing side, to feel completely unrepresented by my government. I'm thrilled not to feel that way anymore. But I still feel the same way as I did back then about the gloaters - it's poor sportsmanship and it's not going to win anybody over to your side. Sure, we can celebrate and feel great about ourselves. But we have to stop short of actually putting people down who disagree with us, or acting like everything is going to be all perfect now, because it's not.

And thankfully, our president knows that and has tried, it seems, to stem the tide of worship towards himself. I have the Michael Franti "Obama" song in my head a lot (it's too damn catchy), but it kind of represents the problem. Not that he's being rude about it - it's a very joyful song - but it's basically a praise song to a human being. Which, to a person who worships a deity, is a bit scary. And is probably also scary to Mr. Obama.

God, he's under a lot of pressure, isn't he? All I can do is pray for the poor man. And roll my eyes a lot. :)

But anyway, back to the annoying liberals. So we were at dinner the other night with people from our new church. And we were talking politics, and J ventured an opinion something to the effect that Obama gets his values from his faith. And wouldn't you know - the people acted offended by this statement! Like only an idiot like Bush could possibly get his values from religion - Obama is way above such blind nonsense. They pointed out that his mom wasn't religious and had a big influence on him, and all these other examples of ways that they believed he was "safe" for the secular establishment. I'm not really sure why a room full of Christians felt the need to defend the secularity of the president, but it was all very PC.

These are the same people who get really nervous when you talk about Jesus being God's son and the way to the Father, or the Bible being true (and not a "conversation" as they like to put it), or that you might possibly need to change something about yourself to live more abundantly into God's love. What I mean is that the main message is "God loves you exactly as you are" and that's really a great message sometimes for some people at certain points of life, but it actually has an expiration date. One day you have to put aside that kind of milk and take on some meat, accept the fact that you might have to change yourself, that God might be calling you to a different way of living - of course, all in order to help you be more you - or be the "real" you if you prefer, or live the most abundant life, or however you want to put it.

I'm finding myself surrounded by people who have no doctrine of sin. It's totally weird, coming from a culture that is obsessed with it. Suddenly there's nothing wrong with anybody - and all the ills of the world are either these big societal issues (war, global warming, economic collapse) which really we can't be blamed for, or they are the fault of the bigots and fundamentalists. I swear, if I hear one more time the words "Fundamentalist Evangelical Christian" followed by some prejudiced blanket stereotype I'm going to scream! They are talking about a tiny fraction of the population of Evangelicals, and they have no interest in learning about the diversity of opinion that is actually reflected in that segment of Christianity.

Weird that I actually became sensitive to that when I was at Fuller. Here I thought I'd head off to "my" people at the liberal seminary, feeling all safe and warm with my other kooky universalist pantheists, and instead I wind up defending Evangelicals all the time!

But anyway, this whole lack of sin doctrine is a real problem. To allow "nice" God to prevail shortchanges the complex and deep relationship God can truly have with us, and it prevents humans from reaching their full potential as servants (of both the divine and the world). At least this past Sunday the preacher sort of touched on this and allowed for the need, sometimes, for change, and then a woman - a recovering addict - got up after the sermon and flat out said that being an addict teaches you that you absolutely must become different sometimes, that you cannot go on a certain way no matter how loved and accepted you are, because you are self-destructing.

And that's really just what sin is, isn't it? Self-destruction? It really seems to be less about offending God (she's a big girl, I think she can take it) and more about hurting ourselves. As a mom, I finally understand how I can love my daughter to pieces and be terrified that she will hurt herself, and I anticipate how some day I will want to strangle her because I'll see her doing something bad for herself and it will make me SO mad that she's using her free will to choose pain instead of happiness. I don't think God gets mad at us for sinning, but I think he probably is disappointed and hurt and angry when we reject the life he so wants us to have, the life of harmony with the earth and communion with one another and relationship with divinity.

Ah. I'm just not a bay area type, I suppose. Maybe I'm a closet fundie. Or maybe I just can't stand fundamentalism of any kind: conservative or liberal. We have to keep our minds open to the other side; we have to always know we can learn something from them. We have to acknowledge our own complicity in what's going wrong in the world, in our communities, and in our hearts. And we have to strive to change, to do better. But most of all, we have to live our lives out of love. Not out of fear, or hate, or anger. Only love will help us reach across divides. Only love will help us stop labeling, stop stereotyping, and stop blaming.

I know "they" do and say things that hurt us. I know "they" are intolerant. I also know that the height of hypocrisy is to only tolerate those who tolerate you and call yourself tolerant. Wouldn't it be great to move past "tolerating" one another?

I don't know; this is all jumbled up and not nearly as eloquent as it sounded in my head. But if anything resonates for you, I would love to hear that.

Now I need some cookie dough.

Obama Foodorama

2009-01-24T12:09:00.001-08:00

Here is a wonderful blog that links two of my personal passions: politics and food!

Economic downturn

2009-01-18T19:27:00.000-08:00

No, not in the country, in my LIFE, people. We need some security. I'm trying with all my might to just "faith" my way through this, but our savings just keep going down every month, and there's no work on the horizon, and I really don't like where we're headed when we have the baby to take care of. It's amazing how things like health insurance, food on the table, not becoming homeless, and even keeping a little savings going all become so important when there's a little one depending on you.

We aren't in the most dire of circumstances yet, but I'd rather just skip that part altogether. Every few weeks there's another scare - like when we were informed this week that J's $400/month student loan payments would start up again (fortunately, we got them re-deferred, you just have to reapply every 6 mos). Or there's a disappointment - like the zillions of schools who've sent us letters saying: "Due to the current economic situation, the position advertised is no longer available."

Sigh.

We even considered moving in with one of our parents. Now you know how desperate things could get.

J actually found a perfect, perfect lead this weekend. Of course, he missed the deadline. But he's applying anyway, because it's so freaking perfect for him. But it's not the first good fit we've found, and so far, nobody has even responded to any of his apps, much less interviewed him or anything like that (except of course the "we can't hire anymore" schools).

This is a really hard time to be looking for a job, to state the totally obvious. So I'm going to put the word out on here, because hey, lots of people read this blog, and maybe somebody knows about something, or can keep their eyes open for us or whatever. Ideally, he'd like to find a full-time teaching position. But as the months wear on, I'm sure our search will diversify (for instance, he's really interested in ministry and recently mentioned a church-secretary position he'd found). One-year appointments are OK. Anywhere in the country - and most of the world - is OK.

For his qualifications and teaching philosophy and whatnot, see here:
http://www.filmphilosopher.com/

Thanks for your support and for keeping us in mind and in prayer.

Heaven & Hell

2009-01-15T12:25:00.001-08:00

Last night while I was waiting to fall back asleep after one of Maggie's wakings, I suddenly thought of something: heaven is going to be populated with human beings.

I know it seems obvious. But think about this: all my life I've kind of had this assumption that everything would be perfect in heaven. But how could it be, when it's all full of humankind? The Bible (if we go by that, which actually doesn't have that much hard data) talks about us getting new bodies that don't decay, but it doesn't say anything about new souls. If our souls are who we really are - and as near as I can tell they are fairly sick in this world - then will they instantly be healed, or will we have work to do in the afterlife? I mean, God is perfect, but why do we assume humans will be, even in God's presence?

I never read the Left Behind books (I got about 50 pages in the first one and had to stop for fear of losing my lunch), but I did scan the last page of the last novel, and I remember the characters were in heaven and were saying something about how their past differences didn't matter anymore in the light of God's love. I would hope that would be the case, but why are we so sure? Plus, in the novel's world I assume all the "sinners" have been destroyed by that point, so maybe all the Christians living together is assumed to be just perfect.

But wait just a damn minute - since when have Christians living together ever been able to get along?! I mean, even with Daddy God looking over our shoulders - literally - why do we think we'll suddenly be all sweetness and light to each other?

This all kind of arose because I was thinking about whether I'd continue to be sarcastic and snarky in my afterlife. Will we have the capacity to say hurtful things to one another, even innocently? How could we not - I mean, if we're not going to be puppet-mastered by God, then it seems like mistakes (if not outright sins) could still happen.

I'm totally flabbergasted by all of this. It's so against everything I've ever thought, yet it kind of seems possible. I'm not talking about direct defiance of God (although we have actual precedent for that taking place in heaven - see Lucifer's story), but just being our regular ol' broken messed up human selves. Is that possible in heaven? And if so, is it even heaven anymore?

Or I am so trapped in the idea that we cannot overcome our brokenness that I am neglecting the hope that, in the presence of God's love, we will perhaps instantly change into better people? Will the abundant life come easy? I do not know. I don't know who has thought about this stuff. I just don't quite believe that we would instantly change...even the change that is supposed to happen "in the blink of an eye" is physical, from what I understand, not psychological or spiritual. Or is it? Maybe I'm forgetting or missing something.

All this afterlife thought has come up because I came to a head with some relatives during Christmas about our differing conceptions of hell. As you may know, I'm not even sure I believe in hell, at least not as a literal place. I jive with CS Lewis' idea of it from The Great Divorce, that it's the turning-in-on-yourself of humans who cannot or will not accept God's love and therefore are doomed to myopic self-centeredness for eternity. I also love the image from an Orthodox church in Orange County, which has as its ceiling mosaic Christ the Judge in the center, with those on one side turning towards his glory with joy and awe on their faces, and those on the other side hiding their faces and grimacing in the presence of his love. I could see how being stuck with God for all eternity, if you didn't like God, would be a sort of hell. And I can see how being stuck with yourself could be hellish as well.

But the whole devils and fire thing just doesn't do it for me. I realize there are metaphors from Scripture that are (mis?)used (literally) to support these images. I just can't imagine that Matt Groening - or, God help us, Trey Parker & Matt Stone - have really given us the true picture.

Being a universalist - or at least an optimist (see also here) - I can really only conceive of hell (if it is necessary at all) as a kind of holding pen for those who aren't ready for God's presence yet, for whatever reason (their own or God's). And since I figure God's love, mercy, and patience are eternal, I have the optimistic view that everyone eventually will come around. I realize this is not orthodox. But I don't think it lessens the seriousness of sin, or the importance of God's sacrifice on the cross, or any of the other protestations people make about why hell is important.

Anyway, I was going to write all about hell, but at this point, I'm way more interested in thinking about the reality of heaven - the way it could be if it weren't full of angels, but people. And not only people, but Christians. (ha ha) Seriously, what do you think about this? If the way we treat one another here on earth is any indication (we could start and stop just with my denomination...or even, my own personal church experiences!), it's going to take a while for heaven to be very heavenly.

Reflections on Christmas

2009-01-09T18:41:00.000-08:00

I have some posts formulating in my mind, particularly one on hell that I think I need to put out there. However I have been away from home three weeks, and it's taken all my energy just to keep my many photos uploaded. You who have friended me on Facebook know what I'm talking about.

So in the meantime, I am linking to a post from my husband (who, by the way, needs a job in a philosophy dept, so keep your ears open) on Christmas. He's not entirely fair to the discussion with his in-laws (my parents) - at least not how I remember it. But his point is interesting. Check it out - as always, his blog continues to be the place to find the deep and careful thought that I was capable of before I gave birth...(and he always interacts with comments, hint!):

http://videoutintellectum.blogspot.com/2008/12/humbung.html

Some things aren't so bad

2008-12-16T19:55:00.000-08:00

Things that don't completely suck about living in Berkeley...

Proximity to San Francisco

the ecology center, and the recycling in general, esp. the city-wide food-scrap pickup

Indus Foods

pretty bay

Zachary's, the only place outside the windy city that actually lives up to the claim to serve "Chicago-style" deep dish pizza

the Berkeley Parents Network

Acme bakery

less than 1 hour from wine country

3 farmer's markets per week, plus a host of CSAs to choose from

baby brigade (aka mommy movies) at the speakeasy, a pub/theater

lots and lots of parks (with playgrounds)

elephant pharmacy

totland, habitot, tea & tumble

you get to have the view of San Francisco

it's not hot

(sure is not)

Church Songs

2008-12-12T20:26:00.000-08:00

The Luke Warm Church announces publication of “Church Songs,” whose title, according to the editor, was chosen because “We didn’t want to turn anybody off with threatening words that no one understands anymore like ‘worship’ or ‘hymn.’ People in today’s society get kind of uncomfortable with too much talk about old fashioned church things. They’d much rather have religion they can turn on or off at will. Our book seeks to meet that need.”

Sample items:

A Comfy Mattress Is Our God
Joyful, Joyful, We Kinda Like Thee
Above Average is Thy Faithfulness
Lord, Keep Us Loosely Connected to Your Word
All Hail the Influence of Jesus’ Name
My Hope is Built on Nothing Much
Amazing Grace, How Interesting the Sound
My Faith Looks Around for Thee
Be Thou My Hobby
O God, Our Enabler in Ages Past
Blest Be the Tie That Doesn’t Cramp My Style
Oh, for a Couple of Tongues to Sing
He’s Quite a Bit to Me
Oh, How I Like Jesus
I Lay My Inappropriate Behaviors on Jesus
Pillow of Ages, Fluffed for Me
I Surrender Some
Praise God from Whom All Affirmations Flow
I’m Pretty Sure That My Redeemer Lives
Self-Esteem to the World! The Lord is Come
Sit Up, Sit Up for Jesus
Special, Special, Special
Spirit of the Living God, Fall Somewhere Near Me
Stick Nearby, It’s Getting Dark Outside
Take My Life and Let Me Be
There is Scattered Cloudiness in My Soul Today
There Shall be Sprinkles of Blessings
What an Acquaintance We Have in Jesus
When Peace, Like a Trickle. . .
When the Saints Go Sneaking In
Where He Leads Me, I Will Consider Following
God of Taste, and God of Stories
Lift Every Voice and Intellectualize

Email to an Atheist

2008-12-10T10:31:00.001-08:00

Here's an email I wrote to an old high school acquaintance:

I wanted to tell you something about being an atheist. I think of it very much like I think of the whole "gay issue" in the church. Let me explain. I have many Christian friends who believe it's sinful to be gay, and who don't understand why I say that my gay friends are created as they are for a purpose, not because God/sin messed them up. I actually believe they are perfectly OK the way they are. But I believe this because I know them - I know their faith, their families, their love. I have seen them at worship, in pain, and deliriously happy (most often at weddings - their own). I have also seen what the world has done to them - I know people who went through actual electric shock therapy, I know people who spent every night for a decade begging God to take it away. I know this all first-hand.

And so I never expect someone who hasn't personally experienced all of this to understand it. How could you? I didn't, until I knew gay Christians (who were better Christians than me). So it doesn't bother me that people haven't come around, because they just haven't been exposed to what I have experienced. I don't like them to be hateful, but most of the circles I run with aren't that way, they are simply naive. The fact is, I don't believe a person will be "converted" on this issue by arguments, or science, or rhetoric, or protests. If I may channel Stephen Colbert, you simply need to know it in your gut, and that requires personal experience.

So all of that is a VERY long way of explaining that I feel the same way about people who haven't experienced God. I would never expect you to believe what I believe based purely on MY explanation, or on the scriptures which obviously hold no authority for you, or on someone else's experience, or on an argument, or anything else like that. I honestly believe God can only be found through personal experience (warning: this can happen whether one is looking for it or not). So your not believing in God is simply an honest result of what you have experienced of this world and this life so far. It is not threatening to me or my faith, nor is it in any way inferior. It's each of our truths.

Do I believe in absolute truth? Sure I do. But I don't believe I can know it. I'm too imperfect and ignorant. In seminary I took a postmodern philosophy class that really helped me clarify this: the difference between believing truth is "out there" but being willing to admit that I'm way too limited to actually say what it is. I think that's a healthy balance; I hope you agree.

To me, it would be pointless to argue about whether God exists, because I only know it from my experience. God is not someone who can be known by anything other than experience. And, ironically, God cannot be explained by the experience because there are no words to describe it.

What I mainly wanted to say was go your way, my friend, and know you won't get any flack from me for your beliefs (and I hope that would go both ways). I do hope that in some way you will one day experience God: be it during a performance of Beethoven's 9th, or at a sunset, or contemplating an artwork, or reading Carl Sagan (I've noticed there seems to be a Church of Sagan...and I have to say, Sagan's basically talking about God the way he talks about the universe...and also, Contact is one of my all-time favorite Christian movies). You may not want to call it God, and that's fine. I just hope everyone gets to experience, in this life, a touch with something greater - God, or universal Love, or simply the self-giving of another human being.

But for me, there has been full-on mystical connection to the divine, the kind you get in meditation, the kind that is pretty universally reported by all the world's religions. I find it to be the most truthful way to talk about God, because it's the most personal (and somehow also the most universal). In my life, God has become a very personal friend and guide, but She's not that way for everyone. God meets us all in the way that we are able, that we are willing. God stoops to our level. [that's why it's so ridiculous to think I should have to defend God: if God needed defending, He'd be pretty lame. I only want to believe in a God that is so beyond my petty defenses as to render them absurd]

But even better: God will, on occasion, raise us up to Her level. And that, my friend, can be an awesome experience.

Open communion (...or not)

2008-12-08T20:44:00.001-08:00

Hey, here's a shocker: I'm still the token liberal at my school (at least in my current class). How did THAT happen??

Yes, I managed to start a huge debate by presenting my chosen topic for my final paper: why there is actually maybe some theological justification (built up over the last hundred years by advances in systematics, historical/biblical studies, ritual evolution, and liturgical theology) for open communion - that is, communing the non-baptized.

I am really not happy with my paper, nor do I have time to get it to a happy place (mommyhood is just too demanding). Done will have to be better than good. But perhaps I'll still post some bits of it. Just be kind and realize I wrote most of it in a sleep-deprived haze.

Here's what I presented that got me about martyred right there in class:

This paper began as a study of two moods of Eucharist: the solemn and the joyful. Recognizing the slippery nature of the term “mood,” I moved towards the theology undergirding each subjective response, which I understood to be revealed in the metaphors of memorial meal and/or sacrifice, for solemnity, and the eschatological heavenly banquet, for joy. As I began my research, I quickly discovered two common themes in the writing on eschatological eucharist: it had largely come back into vogue in the last century because of new trends in biblical studies and theology, and the authors nearly always came to the conclusion that the communion table should be open. The more I read, the more interested I became in just this topic (rather than its comparison with other themes – which was good since I needed to narrow my focus). Furthermore, I was intrigued by the notion of supporting open communion with a real theology, not just some vague notion of hospitality or inclusivity. I began to explore the theological culture that has led to this practice being considered and/or adopted, particularly in Episcopal churches.

Thus my thesis became centered on how certain theologies and movements in biblical and liturgical studies over the last hundred years began recovering and enriching some traditional beliefs about the Eucharist. For example, eschatology has come into its own as a field, and there has been an emphasis on the theology of hope by such scholars as Jurgen Moltmann. Modern ecumenical statements on Eucharist (e.g. Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, and the ARCIC agreed statement) and new prayers that came out of the Liturgical Movement renewed the biblical emphasis on Eucharist as an eschatological meal (something that the Eastern church never lost), and recovered the metaphor of a heavenly banquet at which persons from all nations will feast with God (to quote Jesus).

Biblical scholars have paid more attention to the total life of Christ (particularly the members of the Jesus Seminar, but also those working in reaction to them) and the idea of recovering the historical Jesus has led to more emphasis on patterning the Christian life after Jesus’ own practices rather than later dogma. One way this played out was that theologians and liturgists noticed that there were many ways Jesus used meals to illustrate the kingdom of God – primarily by subverting both cultural and religious norms of his day by eating with the “wrong” people – and began questioning whether the Church’s practices really matched those of its founder. There is also biblical scholarship questioning the authenticity of the Last Supper accounts, which has caused it to fade somewhat as the focal point of Eucharist and be put into conversation with the other biblical examples of Jesus breaking bread as an act of communion with his followers. Whether or not we agree with the work of these scholars, my point is that they have influenced the Christian community into thinking about Eucharist in new ways, especially as an open meal of fellowship.

Liturgical studies has also contributed to this “perfect storm” of factors which are opening communion tables. The recognition of diversity in historical practice (e.g. “splitting”) has opened the door to the acceptability of a variety of practices here and now, rather than pretending there is, and always has been, only one way to do Eucharist. The endorsement of cultural influence on communion, based on scholarship that has uncovered the way that culture played an important role in the original meal practices of Christians, has helped to open the practice as well.

In the liturgy itself, a significant development is the renewal of the weekly practice of communion and, for my church (Episcopal), the replacement of Morning Prayer on Sundays with a service of Eucharist. This has made the Eucharist the primary element (or co-primary with Word) of the Sunday service. In churches that primarily reach out to the unbaptized (which could be most any adult in our post-Christendom country), this ritual change meant excluding many from fully half of the worship life of the community. Another ritual change is the renewed focus on the baptism of adults through new catechetical processes (based on the RCIA). This has altered the meaning of baptism somewhat, stressing its nature as a commitment by a person who is already participating in the life of the church (and, let’s be honest, has probably been taking Eucharist since that’s the main thing to do at church!). These developments in ritual have altered the meaning and purpose of Eucharist in the Sunday service for many communities of faith.

These are just a few of the examples of ways that the last hundred years have seen developments that may be leading to an evolution of eucharistic theology and practice. We must remember that the way Eucharist has been “done” over the centuries has varied widely, from the original fellowship banquets to ocular communion, from propitiatory sacrifice to memorial meal to means and enactment of grace. Changing understandings of Scripture, new evidence from archaeology and texts, cultural and political factors, and the prompting of the Holy Spirit have all played a role in the evolution of the rite. It is not possible to say it has “always” been done one way – though admittedly, the overwhelming evidence is that it has almost always been fenced to the baptized (remember, however, that the “baptized” used to be the entire population). As theologies have changed and grown, in response to and in discussion with biblical and historical scholarship and cultural factors, so practices have evolved to reflect – or push – changing liturgical norms. To propose a change in practice, arising from a change in or new nuances of theology, is by no means unheard of or unholy, particularly in a tradition, such as Anglicanism, that locates its theology squarely in its worship practice.

What I am doing here is asking whether what we’re seeing now is another shift in theology that is significant enough to change practice. Does the theology, biblical scholarship, and liturgical development of the 20^th century warrant opening the table? At the least, I would suggest that it helps us understand why some communities already have done so – how the theological culture of our time promotes open communion, which needn’t be without theological grounding.

Finally, I wonder whether there particular contexts in which this would be most appropriate? I think for example of a community that wishes to welcome all to the table as Jesus did, thereby making communion their rite of initiation and opening the entire worship service to all; then promoting baptism as a rite of commitment – in accordance with the RCIA model – rather than a means of putting people in categories that can exclude them from participation. It is rather silly to send catechumens – who are serious about their commitment to Christ – out of the church during communion time, when any person off the street might stick around and partake without anyone checking her credentials!

What am I not doing? I am not addressing, at length, the question of communion replacing baptism as a sacrament of initiation (and baptism then becoming the sacrament of commitment). I am looking at how communion can play a role as an initiating device, but I will not have space to argue the role of baptism itself and how that would change with open communion (I will, however, point the reader to articles which do so). I am also not able to go very deeply into the ecclesiological issues that are raised by open communion, though I will mention some of the problems that must be dealt with. Finally, I am not writing a paper on sacramental theology, but rather noting how a paradigm shift in theological studies led to a defensible change in eucharistic practice. The next step (another paper!) is to go back from practice to the theological academy to evaluate the implications of this ritual evolution on sacramental theology, ecclesiology, and related disciplines.

The practical question raised by this study is whether the larger church body and hierarchy should recognize these developments and sanction the open communion tables already practiced by many congregations. Are we ready to put the official seal of approval on this evolution in theology and practice?

But really, whether we agree or not with the practice, what I hope to prove is that the culture was ripe for this change, that people who are doing it are coming by it somewhat honestly – we can at least see why and how it makes sense even if we react gutterally against it.

Finally, a couple of quotes from the fabulous Geoffrey Wainwright (so you can see I didn't just make all this up):

“We have pressed people to come in…and then left them without food and drink at the meal which is the sign of the great supper of the final kingdom, telling them rather that they must wait several years until by their acquired knowledge and virtues they have earned the right (we do not use quite those words, of course) to baptism, and, after a further interval, ‘confirmation’ (by whatever name), and only then will they be admitted to the Lord’s table.”

“No one should be refused communion who has been moved by the celebration of the sign then in progress to seek saving fellowship with the Lord through eating the bread and drinking the wine.”

(both from Eucharist and Eschatology)

Food Democracy Now!

2008-12-07T16:07:00.000-08:00

Please sign this petition to ask President-elect Obama to choose a Secretary of Agriculture who is committed to sustainability and reforming our food system.

http://www.fooddemocracynow.org/

The New Cicero

2008-12-05T18:03:00.000-08:00

I loooooove this article. Politics, preaching, art, rhetoric, all wrapped up in an educational, historical, damn finely written essay. Way to go.

The new Cicero

Barack Obama's speeches are much admired and endlessly analysed, but, says Charlotte Higgins, one of their most interesting aspects is the enormous debt they owe to the oratory of the Romans

- Charlotte Higgins
- The Guardian, Wednesday November 26 2008
- Article history

In the run-up to the US presidential election, the online magazine Slate ran a series of dictionary definitions of "Obamaisms". One ran thus: "Barocrates (buh-ROH-cruh-teez) n. An obscure Greek philosopher who pioneered a method of teaching in which sensitive topics are first posed as questions then evaded."

There were other digs at Barack Obama that alluded to ancient Greece and Rome. When he accepted the Democratic party nomination, he did so before a stagey backdrop of doric columns. Republicans said this betrayed delusions of grandeur: this was a temple out of which Obama would emerge like a self-styled Greek god. (Steve Bell also discerned a Romanness in the image, and drew Obama for this paper as a toga-ed emperor.) In fact, the resonance of those pillars was much more complicated than the Republicans would have it. They recalled the White House, which itself summoned up visual echoes of the Roman republic, on whose constitution that of the US is based. They recalled the Lincoln Memorial, before which Martin Luther King delivered his "I have a dream" speech. They recalled the building on which the Lincoln Memorial is based - the Parthenon. By drawing us symbolically to Athens, we were located at the very birthplace of democracy.

Here's the thing: to understand the next four years of American politics, you are going to need to understand something of the politics of ancient Greece and Rome.

There have been many controversial aspects to this presidential election, but one thing is uncontroversial: that Obama's skill as an orator has been one of the most important factors - perhaps the most important factor - in his victory. The sheer numbers of people who have heard him speak live set him apart from his rivals - and, indeed, recall the politics of ancient Athens, where the public speech given to ordinary voters was the motor of politics, and where the art of rhetoric matured alongside democracy.

Obama has bucked the trend of recent presidents - not excluding Bill Clinton - for dumbing down speeches. Elvin T Lim's book The Anti-Intellectual Presidency: The Decline of Presidential Rhetoric from George Washington to George W Bush, submits presidential oratory to statistical analysis. He concludes that 100 years ago speeches were pitched at college reading level. Now they are at 8th grade. Obama's speeches, by contrast, flatter their audience. His best speeches are adroit literary creations, rich, like those doric columns, with allusion, his turn of phrase consciously evoking lines by Lincoln and King, by Woody Guthrie and Sam Cooke. Though he has speechwriters, he does much of the work himself. (Jon Favreau, the 27-year-old who heads Obama's speechwriting team, has said that his job is like being "Ted Williams's batting coach.") James Wood, professor of the practice of literary criticism at Harvard, has already performed a close-reading exercise on the victory speech for the New Yorker. Can you imagine the same being done of a George Bush speech?

More than once, the adjective that has been deployed to describe Obama's oratorical skill is "Ciceronian". Cicero, the outstanding Roman politician of the late republic, was certainly the greatest orator of his time, and one of the greatest in history. A fierce defender of the republican constitution, his criticism of Mark Antony got him murdered in 43BC.

During the Roman republic (and in ancient Athens) politics was oratory. In Athens, questions such as whether or not to declare war on an enemy state were decided by the entire electorate (or however many bothered to turn up) in open debate. Oratory was the supreme political skill, on whose mastery power depended. Unsurprisingly, then, oratory was highly organised and rigorously analysed. The Greeks and Romans, in short, knew all the rhetorical tricks, and they put a name to most of them.

It turns out that Obama knows them, too. One of the best known of Cicero's techniques is his use of series of three to emphasise points: the tricolon. (The most enduring example of a Latin tricolon is not Cicero's, but Caesar's "Veni, vidi, vici" - I came, I saw, I conquered.) Obama uses tricola freely. Here's an example: "Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation, not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy ..." In this passage, from the 2004 Democratic convention speech, Obama is also using the technique of "praeteritio" - drawing attention to a subject by not discussing it. (He is discounting the height of America's skyscrapers etc, but in so doing reminds us of their importance.)

One of my favourites among Obama's tricks was his use of the phrase "a young preacher from Georgia", when accepting the Democratic nomination this August; he did not name Martin Luther King. The term for the technique is "antonomasia". One example from Cicero is the way he refers to Phoenix, Achilles' mentor in the Iliad, as "senior magister" - "the aged teacher". In both cases, it sets up an intimacy between speaker and audience, the flattering idea that we all know what we are talking about without need for further exposition. It humanises the character - King was just an ordinary young man, once. Referring to Georgia by name localises the reference - Obama likes to use the specifics to American place to ground the winged sweep of his rhetoric - just as in his November 4 speech: "Our campaign ... began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston", which, of course, is also another tricolon.

Obama's favourite tricks of the trade, it appears, are the related anaphora and epiphora. Anaphora is the repetition of a phrase at the start of a sentence. Again, from November 4: "It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools ... It's the answer spoken by young and old ... It's the answer ..." Epiphora does the same, but at the end of a sentence. From the same speech (yet another tricolon): "She lives to see them stand out and speak up and reach for the ballot. Yes we can." The phrase "Yes we can" completes the next five paragraphs.

That "Yes we can" refrain might more readily summon up the call-and-response preaching of the American church than classical rhetoric. And, of course, Obama has been influenced by his time in the congregations of powerfully effective preachers. But James Davidson, reader in ancient history at the University of Warwick, points out that preaching itself originates in ancient Greece. "The tradition of classical oratory was central to the early church, when rhetoric was one of the most important parts of education. Through sermons, the church captured the rhetorical tradition of the ancients. America has preserved that, particularly in the black church."

It is not just in the intricacies of speechifying that Obama recalls Cicero. Like Cicero, Obama is a lawyer. Like Cicero, Obama is a writer of enormous accomplishment - Dreams From My Father, Obama's first book, will surely enter the American literary canon. Like Cicero, Obama is a "novus homo" - the Latin phrase means "new man" in the sense of self-made. Like Cicero, Obama entered politics without family backing (compare Clinton) or a military record (compare John McCain). Roman tradition dictated you had both. The compensatory talent Obama shares with Cicero, says Catherine Steel, professor of classics at the University of Glasgow, is a skill at "setting up a genealogy of forebears - not biological forebears but intellectual forebears. For Cicero it was Licinius Crassus, Scipio Aemilianus and Cato the Elder. For Obama it is Lincoln, Roosevelt and King."

Steel also points out how Obama's oratory conforms to the tripartite ideal laid down by Aristotle, who stated that good rhetoric should consist of pathos, logos and ethos - emotion, argument and character. It is in the projection of ethos that Obama particularly excels. Take this resounding passage: "I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations." He manages to convey the sense that not only can he revive the American dream, but that he personally embodies - actually, in some sense, is - the American dream.

In English, when we use the word "rhetoric", it is generally preceded by the word "empty". Rhetoric has a bad reputation. McCain warned lest an electorate be "deceived by an eloquent but empty call for change". Waspishly, Clinton noted, "You campaign in poetry, you govern in prose." The Athenians, too, knew the dangers of a populace's being swept along by a persuasive but unscrupulous demagogue (and they invented the word). And it was the Roman politician Cato - though it could have been McCain - who said "Rem tene, verba sequentur". If you hold on to the facts, the words will follow.

Cicero was well aware of the problem. In his book On The Orator, he argues that real eloquence can be acquired only if the speaker has attained the highest state of knowledge - "otherwise what he says is just an empty and ridiculous swirl of verbiage". The true orator is one whose practice of citizenship embodies a civic ideal - whose rhetoric, far from empty, is the deliberate, rational, careful organiser of ideas and argument that propels the state forward safely and wisely. This is clearly what Obama, too, is aiming to embody: his project is to unite rhetoric, thought and action in a new politics that eschews narrow bipartisanship. Can Obama's words translate into deeds? The presidency of George Bush provided plenty of evidence that a man who has problems with his prepositions may also struggle to govern well. We can only hope that Obama's presidency proves that opposite.

• Charlotte Higgins is the author of It's All Greek To Me: From Homer to the Hippocratic Oath, How Ancient Greece Has Shaped Our World (Short Books).

stupid insomnia

2008-12-04T03:28:00.000-08:00

It's 3:30 a.m. I am wide awake. I have gotten 2 hours of sleep this night, and apparently my body (or brain) has decided it's done.

This is not entirely the baby's fault. I mean, it generated with her. I went to bed at 10, but she started fussing the moment I got in the room. So I dealt with her until 11, when I gave up and brought her into bed to nurse so at least we could go to sleep. We did, for those lovely 2 hours. Mostly - I mean, she fussed often, but these days I'm so used to rolling over and finding her paci and putting it back in without much waking up.

That's the key, you see. If I wake up - if I get past a certain point of sleepy haze - then it's all over.

So anyway at 1:00 she woke up a bit, and her paci wasn't working, so I gave her the boob. It calmed her, got her paci in, and we were off again to dreamland. I hadn't woken up too much. And as I started drifting off, I sent up a desperate prayer: please God, please please please let her sleep until 3. Just give me two more hours.

Well I got about 10 minutes. Then she woke up again, and I couldn't find her paci fast enough, and she escalated to full-blown crying. This is incredibly annoying, because the quick fix is right there and simply can't be found. So I had to go to plan B, which was to stick my boob in her mouth. Last night, plan B was enacted 6 times. Oh, did I mention she's cutting her first tooth? And we traveled all week last week?

I hope that's the explanation because I can't go on like this. It's inhumane. Especially because she was such an amazing sleeper for so long. It is simply cruel and unusual to go from getting 7-10 hours of sleep every night together to suddenly being woken up every hour or two. Like she's a freaking newborn again.

So yes, here we are at 1:15 or so and we have screaming. And I was so mad that she hadn't gone back to sleep, and I wasn't getting to go back to sleep, and I could feel myself waking up. That's the worst part - that moment when you realize that you are not going to recover from this one. For me, it's really desperate. Because what happens when I wake up, as I said, is I do not go back to sleep for at least an hour or more. This happens every time I have to handle a night waking. That's why I do my best to ignore her cries - not to be cruel, but J can handle it, and he goes immediately back to sleep.

But with this tooth, she's been too upset to be comforted by anything but nursing. And she wakes up too much to bother with the bassinet, so she sleeps next to me. Which means I'm waking up constantly all night, and I'm feeding her constantly, and I'm getting absolutely no rest.

At that point, I knew she wasn't hungry, and I was too frustrated to let her use me as a human pacifier. I was mad at her. So I put her in her bassinet, because I couldn't deal, and I wanted to fling her across the room or yell at her, anything to make her shut up.

Finally J got up, and changed her diaper, which was admittedly really wet and stinky. But that required turning on the light, and she was making so much noise that I wasn't going to be going back to sleep. I put her back in her jammies and she was full-blown screaming, and I couldn't take it. I came out here in the living room, sat on my couch, and wept.

Being a parent is incredibly hard. I know that this is a phase that will pass. I hope to God I have a good sleeper again one day. I'm sure she will eventually be. But I'm so physically not cut out for this, because of my stupid insomnia. It ruins everything.

You see, after my crying jag, and feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes, and shaking out what I could of the anger, I grabbed the homeopathic teething tablets and went back in. J was lying in bed with her, letting her scream, but holding her (he couldn't stand to let her scream alone in her bed, so he opted to let her cry it out but while being held). I gave her a tablet and she quieted down. I gave her another and she stopped crying altogether. Then she started up, I gave her a third, and she completely calmed.

And she was looking at me with this completely sad look on her face, like she was so tired and so sad to be awake, and so sorry to be keeping everybody up. She just looked apologetic. So of course I felt terrible, and I realized that she felt exactly like me - horribly tired and frustrated that she couldn't fix it, just couldn't sleep. Plus, she was in pain. Oh, her sad little face.

I actually turned out the light because I knew I'd never stop looking at her. And she was intently looking at me. So I made it dark so we could both go to sleep.

And she did, almost immediately. J patted her for a while, but she went down fast. By this time it was 2:00. And I was so wide awake that there was no hope for me.

And now it is 3:45. I gave up and got out of bed at 3:15, realizing that I was not going back to sleep. I don't know how only 2 hours was sufficient, but somehow, my brain and body have decided that's it for the time being. So yeah, up from 1-4 or so tonight. Yep, it's just like the good ol' days.

Really, night waking wouldn't be such torture if I could just go back to sleep. It's the lying awake after I help the baby go to sleep that kills me. I don't know what to do about it. Most times I cannot move or get into a comfortable position without awakening her and starting the whole mess over. I certainly feel like getting up and drinking milk (or obviously turning on the computer) will only wake me up more.

But I am starting to feel a little tired, so maybe I'll get some cooperation. I want to sleep so badly. I'm absolutely devastated that my little one actually has been sleeping peacefully for nearly 2 hours and I've completely missed my chance to sleep!

Oh. I just heard her. Here we go again. Oh well, at least I'm not being roused out of sleep this time.

An Open Letter to the President Elect

2008-12-03T21:17:00.000-08:00

AN OPEN LETTER TO BARACK HUSSEIN OBAMA, JR., PRESIDENT-ELECT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA:

Sir, with all due respect, I’m angry,

Oh, and really hurt.

Let me start by saying that I am not very wealthy, and yet I sent a lot of money to your campaign. I didn’t actually keep track, but it was several hundred dollars if not over a thousand. I wept on Tuesday evening, crying tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of hope and expectation.

I bought your book, The Audacity of Hope, and I read it. It was inspirational, with prose that was obviously intelligent and thoughtful yet accessible. I believed what I was reading and dreamed of a new America, with someone as our leader who has ascended the mountain of power yet will continue to carry the perspective gained by living at the bottom, down in the trenches where the rest of us hang out.

And let me also state that I understand the need for political expediency. In your book you outlined articulately the need for a pragmatic approach to solving our nation’s problems, and even highlighted that such an approach often opens our minds to the positive and beneficial aspects of our opponent’s point-of-view. Hopefully, this will help as our country attempts to come together after so many years of division.

So, I understand this whole civil unions vs. gay marriage argument that you and many of the powers-that-be in the political world espouse. I also understand the argument that “states should decide” because this allows politicians to be both for and against something at the same time. I call this the homosexual policy dance. And it is true that politically, the country does not appear to be ready to accept full equality for gay families. If a politician were to come out in favor of gay marriage it could be political suicide.

But, not doing so is dangerous. And it is hurtful. And the thing is, after reading your book, seeing you on TV, and listening to your speeches, I know that you know it. So I am wondering if you are going to do something about it.

I want to share a story. I was absolutely offended to listen to my voice messages the day after the voting (I hadn’t been able to peel myself away from the internet for several days, trying to read all the up-to-date, 24-hour news and so had missed several phone calls). One of the messages was a robo-call from a “descendent of Martin Luther King, Jr.”, pleading with me to vote in favor of Proposition 8, the infamous California ballot initiative which revises the California Constitution to strip me of a right to which the Supreme Court had earlier found I am entitled. She wanted me to vote to preserve the “tradition of marriage”. In my anger, I wondered to which “tradition” she was referring; the one in the Bible that says that polygamy is acceptable? or was she talking about the one in US civil law from 50 years ago that said that she wasn’t worthwhile enough to marry someone with white skin color?, or was she trying to highlight social differences from around the world by bringing attention to the myriad cultures who arrange marriage without any input from the bride and groom? I say she wasn’t referring to any of these. I say that she was using euphemistic terminology to justify her bigotry toward gays. How could a “descendent of MLK, Jr.” be advocating for such a hateful ideology?

To me, traditional marriage is really about the family. Civil laws regarding marriage help secure a familial unit, by establishing laws of inheritance, by limiting restrictions on transfer of benefits among family members, by giving tax breaks to those of us raising children, in order to promote a stable future society. I was reminded of that on election night, when I saw your beautiful family join you on the stage. What was so striking was how much love seemed to be present among you four, and I thought to myself, “no matter what happens in the future, they each know that they have something safe in this world and three other people on whom they can rely for the rest of their lives.” That is what a marriage is all about.

Proposition 8 takes away my family’s rights to have this same security. My sons are NOT guaranteed the same freedoms from inheritance limits with a civil union. My husband is NOT entitled to my social security benefits without the safety of federal civil marriage laws, if, God forbid, something were to happen to me. With civil unions, my husband and I DO have to pay taxes on our employee-based health care benefits; taxes that married heterosexual couples do not have to pay. They can therefore invest that money in their children’s future and we cannot. Proposition 8 was not about marriage equality—it was about family equality. And my family deserves equality as much as your beautiful family does.

That’s why I am angry. And why I am hurt. How could millions of Americans vote to say to my family that we are not worthwhile enough to enjoy the same benefits? Why would they want to take away security from my sons, who have had so many hardships already in their brief little lives?

How can YOU, Mr. Obama, justify this homosexual policy dance when so much is at stake? You are eloquent and brilliant, so maybe you can come to my house and have a sit down with my boys to explain to them exactly how this works. They are worthwhile but don’t deserve protection under the law? There will need to be some very detailed nuance brought forth for them to understand that one, yet it is what you sell to the American people. I would be interested to hear you try.

As a family, who happens to have parents who are gay, we deserve equal protection under the law. We need a FEDERAL law that will guarantee that our family is as secure in its future as yours is. That will guarantee that my husband will be able to collect my social security should I die prematurely. That will guarantee that my children can inherit without undue burden. That will guarantee that we no longer have to pay taxes on health benefits that my heterosexual counterparts do not have to pay. That will guarantee that if my family happens to be driving through Oklahoma and someone gets sick, both my husband and I are treated as full and equal parents—because we are.

I want to share another story. I recently had the privilege of attending a talk on my campus by Judy Shepard, the mother of Matthew Shepard. During the often gut-wrenching presentation, she eloquently spoke of her difficulty understanding the hate that led people to beat her son unconscious and leave him tied to a fence in a field for 16 hours, simply because he was gay. She was able to articulately outline the complex connections among subtle discrimination and social messages of “difference” and the feelings of hatred that are learned from them. I don’t want to speak for her, but to me, it seemed to be her conclusion that such learned messages were underlying the actions of those who murdered her son. She came out very strongly against Proposition 8, saying that to her, such a ballot measure was not only unequal and unjust, but also lethal.

By not taking the political risk to stand up for something that is right, you contribute to the message that gays are “different” and there are people the world over who then solidify their fears and kindle their hatred. How many more Matthew Shepards do there need to be before we stand up as a nation and say that it has to stop? How many more years does my family have to listen to the message that we aren’t as deserving of tax breaks and federal recognition simply because there are religious bigots who feel we are “immoral?” Need I remind you that the same arguments were made against interracial marriage a generation ago? Need I remind you that progress was made in the civil rights movement because the courts stepped in and demanded equality, and then courageous politicians stepped in and demanded that the laws be enforced? Lyndon Johnson sacrificed the south politically for an entire generation because he knew that signing the Civil Rights Act was the right thing to do. Who in our generation is going to have the same political courage? Will that be you, Mr. Obama, or are my hopes misguided? Can I expect a new, changed America? Or is that for everyone but me and my family and the millions who are like me?

Sincerely,

Karl Jeffries, MD

Resident Physician

Berkeley, California

It appears to be the work of a group of unbelievable mother f--kers, working in tandem with giant a--holes

2008-12-02T20:04:00.000-08:00

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Mumbai Tragedy

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

Punny Money

2008-12-02T19:58:00.000-08:00

Perhaps you're already aware of this site, perhaps not, but I spent the better part of today, when I should otherwise have been writing a paper, noodling around on Punny Money.

I got there via a link in a Slate article about taking all-you-can-eat buffets for all they're worth; then I proceeded to read about the Olive Garden's neverending bowl of lies; then I read about the freebies on election day, and finally, I enjoyed learning the author's ethical stances on stealing office supplies and condiments.

All in all, a hugely entertaining blog. Check it out.

LA Love

2008-12-01T18:58:00.000-08:00

As the sequel to my last post, I have to say how great it was to visit LA over the last week. I tell myself often that my home is just where my family is, but really, there is something about a place you've lived a dozen years that gets into your gut.

It was great to see so many friends and introduce Maggie to so many people. She, as always, was adorable and perfect. I had such a good time.

Here's hoping we can wind up there some day. It was so hard leaving again, this time knowing that I was in fact leaving the place I really want to live, and not knowing when - or if - I would ever get to live there again. Still, with the combined power of all my friends there praying, maybe it could work out after all.

Bay Area Bitching

2008-11-23T13:16:00.000-08:00

OK I just need to write one really bitchy post about the Bay Area, and then I can move on with my life. Here's what drives me crazy about this place.

First and foremost, number one most annoying thing: everyone who lives here thinks it's God's gift to the world. The general attitude is that nowhere else on earth is worth living in, least of all LA or Southern California. When I tell people where I'm from I usually get a look of pity and then a cheerful, "Aren't you so lucky to live here now?!" No! I'm not! Get over yourself!

Honestly, this place is nice, but have you read your own paper lately? The crime here is miserable! It's not that it's not a lovely place to live on the whole, but there's just such a sense of self-congratulation - like aren't we the best because we're soooo tolerant (except of intolerance, or people who disagree with our style of tolerance, or disagree with us period) and soooo green (nobody drives here except...just about everybody - and they don't know how, and they are rude, and the freeway designs are impenetrable, and the roads are terrible...) and soooo cultured (I can't find a good radio station to save my life and the newspaper sucks).

It would really not be such a bad situation if people just kept their love for this area to themselves, or at least didn't assume that everybody else feels exactly as they do. J was saying today that this is what it feels like to live in a one-party system: there are plenty of people who don't agree with the majority rule, but they can't say anything. Yep.

My favorite thing about LA, now that I don't live there, is that at least half the people really hate it there. It's quite fashionable to hate it there. And you know what? That made it pretty fun and unique to love it there. Yeah, you got weird looks, but there was something about fighting for your scrappy little town - and knowing, in your heart, that you could point out dozens of wonderful things about the city people love to hate - that really made you fall in love with it all over again.

Today in church somebody talked about her recent trip to Southern California and how she met some people (she didn't say how many, nor what part of So Cal she was in) who were homophobic. Then she basically said that all people in LA are homophobic, and wasn't she lucky to get back "home", where people are so accepting and loving and better than everybody else.

OK, I'm exaggerating a bit, but she really did say that So Cal is intolerant (based on the few she talked to) and that she was so glad to be home.

And it really bugged me for the rest of the service. I don't get up and talk smack about these people's hometowns. Why do they have to kick around LA? Oh, yeah, because everybody thinks they can. Well I'm here to tell you people: I LOVE LA and ya'll better not be talking smack about my boyfriend (to quote the great Carrie Bradshaw, who was admittedly speaking about NYC, which I must admit is a city I hated, and another one where people seem to think you're nuts if you don't absolutely love it there).

So Bay Area people: get over yourselves. I mean, geez, if LA is so awful and intolerant, what does that say about the rest of the country? San Francisco is a lovely city, but it's not heaven on earth (last I checked, that was Iowa...not in my opinion, but in a movie's at least). There are tons of problems with this area, hot on the list being the HUGE difference between the haves and have-nots, and how the latter (and their problems) are so ignored - also, admittedly, a huge issue for Los Angeles. And probably most major cities.

And you friends in LA - or anywhere else, for that matter, where you're happy - love what you got. You wouldn't believe what it's like elsewhere!

Photos of Mt Calvary

2008-11-15T08:42:00.001-08:00

LA Times has several photos of the devastation at Mt Calvary:

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-sbfire14-2008nov14-pg,0,5936188.photogallery?index=3
(this and the next 3 or 4 are of the monastery)

Two more things on SB wildfire

2008-11-14T13:09:00.000-08:00

Also please keep faculty, staff, students, and alumni of Westmont College in prayer. They have lost buildings but no lives, thank God.

And apparently now St. Mary's retreat house is in danger. SB is home to many incredible retreat centers (because it's basically heaven on earth - it's where we would LOVE to live one day, if only we win the lottery or J can convince poor Westmont to hire him). St. Mary's is a lovely little place. Another that is very important to met personally is the SB Mission Retreat Center, because that's where I received my call to ministry and decided to attend seminary and study worship.

So you see, without the retreat centers in Santa Barbara, my spiritual journey and entire life would likely be completely different. I know God lives in that place. My prayers and my heart are there today.

Requiem for a Holy Place

2008-11-14T12:51:00.000-08:00

Mt. Calvary monastery has been completely destroyed by the wildfire in Santa Barbara. This is stunning news to the hundreds of us who have found our spiritual journey enhanced and enlivened by true mountaintop experiences there (in every sense of the word).

Mt. Calvary was one of the world's "thin places" - where the air hums with the energy of the Holy Spirit and there is a sense of calm and peace that sinks into your bones.

It is the place where I had my deepest mystical experience - what I can only describe as an orgasmic connection to the Ultimate - in the midst of a silent retreat. The silent retreat itself was an experience that I will never forget and long to revisit.

I went on retreat there a few times, and several more times (basically anytime I was in SB) we went up the mountain to visit the bookstore and buy coffee. Oh, that coffee! The brothers were always so generous and hospitable.

Several pieces of art from the monastery's resident calligrapher hang in our home. They bring me inspiration and hope daily.

I am heartbroken at this news, and most of all for the hundreds yet to have made it up there. What a huge loss for all people of faith in Southern California.

(I couldn't get much on the story except this blog post.)

Feeling Fine

2008-11-10T21:33:00.001-08:00

I'm a little slow getting to my op-eds, but I particularly loved these:

It Still Felt Good the Morning After by Frank Rich, NY Times

AND

Thinking of Good Vibrations
By GAIL COLLINS
Published: November 5, 2008

Tralalalalala.

We are only thinking cheerful thoughts today, people. America did good. Enjoy.

Even if you voted for John McCain, be happy. You’ve got the best of all worlds. Today, you can bask in the realization that there are billions of people around the planet who loathed our country last week but are now in awe of its capacity to rise above historic fears and prejudices, that once again, the United States will have a president the world wants to follow. Then later, when things get screwed up, you can point out that it’s not your fault.

About the inevitable disasters: I am sorry to tell you, excited youth of America, that Barack Obama is going to make mistakes. And the country’s broke. Perhaps we should have mentioned this before. But let’s leave all that to 2009. When somebody runs one of the best presidential campaigns ever, he deserves a little time to enjoy the sweet spot between achievement of a goal and the arrival of the consequences.

Let’s hear it for the voters. Good turnout, guys — especially you Virginians who stood in line for seven hours. A professor at George Mason University who studies this sort of thing claims that there hasn’t been such a high participation level since 1908. You could turn out to be the ever-elusive answer to the question: “Name one thing that Barack Obama has in common with William Howard Taft?”

Let’s hear it for Hillary Clinton, who lost but made the country comfortable with the idea of a woman as chief executive. And Joe Biden, who actually ran a disciplined campaign, given his truly exceptional capacity to say weird things.

And let’s give a shout-out to John McCain. As desperate as he was, he still passed up opportunities to poke hard at the nation’s fault lines of race, religion and region — although he has probably created a permanent gap between the rest of us and segments of the country who feel under imminent threat from Bill Ayers.

McCain ran a dreadful campaign, but it’s over. Give the guy a break. He was stuck with George Bush. And the Republican Party. And the fact that he was constitutionally incapable of giving a decent speech. The road was hard, but he soldiered on and did a lovely concession Tuesday night. Kudos.

Sarah Palin did go over the top with her small towns vs. the world mantra. However, she does get credit for giving us a real understanding of the difference between a moose and a caribou.

O.K., there is nothing positive to say about Sarah Palin. And Alaska, are you re-electing Ted Stevens? What’s going on there? Did you actually believe him when he said that the court verdict was still up in the air? On the day after he was found guilty? By the way, if Stevens does win, it will be with about 106,000 votes. In total. There are more people than that in my immediate neighborhood! What kind of state is this, anyway?

But we’re in a good mood, so let’s forget Alaska. Instead, we’ll contemplate the fact that North Carolina tossed Elizabeth Dole out of office despite her ad campaign aimed at convincing the state that her opponent, Kay Hagan, was an atheist. This was accomplished, you may remember, through the creative strategy of showing Hagan’s picture along with another woman’s voice saying: “There is no God!” If Dole had won, by the next election we would have been bombarded with ads that appeared to show candidates saying “I support adultery!” or “Let’s kill the puppies!” Now that won’t happen. Thank you, North Carolina.

By the way, I believe that during the campaign McCain’s great friend Senator Lindsey Graham said something along the line of promising to drown himself if North Carolina went for Obama. I believe I speak for us all, Senator Graham, when I say that we are feeling extremely mellow today and you do not have to follow through.

Congratulations to Senator Susan Collins on her re-election. The entire moderate Republican caucus in the Senate may now wind up consisting of women from Maine. As Maine goes, so go the Supreme Court nominations.

Finally, on behalf of the baby-boom generation, I would like to hear a little round of applause before we cede the stage to the people who were too young to go to Woodstock and would appreciate not having to listen to the stories about it anymore. It looks as though we will be represented in history by only two presidents, one of whom is George W. Bush. Bummer.

The boomers didn’t win any wars and that business about being self-involved was not entirely unfounded. On the other hand, they made the nation get serious about the idea of everybody being created equal. And now American children are going to grow up unaware that there’s anything novel in an African-American president or a woman running for the White House.

We’ll settle for that.

Wedding banquet

2008-11-09T14:42:00.000-08:00

Today's gospel was the parable of the virgins: the wise ones who have oil for their lamps, and the "foolish" ones who get locked out of the wedding banquet.

And after the sermon a person in my church stood up and said that this week, because of the passing of Prop 8, many people were locked out of the wedding banquet.

How profoundly sad.

(I'm not sure it jives with the meaning of that parable, but it was still kind of gut-wrenching).

Need Parenting Advice

2008-11-09T08:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry again to people who aren't into the parental aspects of my nature (but sometimes it's all-consuming, as at the moment when I am running on no sleep). Need some help/advice/encouragement from other parents.

Maggie has been having miserable nights lately. We did our first big cross-country trip (w/plane ride) and a visit to cousins (some sickness there). On the plane home, she started screaming like she never has - top of her lungs, very high pitched but throaty (not a squeal). On the first plane ride she was happy, so this was totally weird. Even feeding her didn't always work. She either screamed or slept for 4 hours.

Then we got home and that night she screamed the same way all night. She was very warm to the touch, and definitely sounded congested. We were up with her off and on from 1 until 5, when I finally gave up and got up. In the morning I noticed her nose was running (clear). Her breathing continues to be noisy, and she stayed feverish all day. Friends/family suggested either a cold or a tooth (she's always been a big drooler and into gnawing). Teethers don't seem to help, though, except they distract her. I hate the sound of this cry.

The next day she was really fussy and miserable, but by that night, she slept well. She'd fuss but we could get her back to sleep. Yay.

However, the next night (last night), after a busy day playing at a museum (maybe I overdid it?), she was again up every 2 hours and would only nurse to go back to sleep (she went down at 5:30, we woke her for her night dipe & jammies at 7:30, and she stayed asleep only until 12, after that it was every 2 hours). She wasn't screaming, but she cried her "hungry" cry (still, sometimes she nursed vigorously and other times just went on the breast to go to sleep). It was exhausting - like having a newborn again.

Is this behavior normal for a 5 month old - to suddenly stop being able to sleep? She's been sleeping through the night since 7 weeks, so this is completely unusual for us. She's been a great sleeper, and even when wakes almost never actually cries. This is a very sudden change in her behavior. I've read about the 4 mo sleep regression happening at 5 mos. She's also mastering lots of new skills (rolling over & sitting up), maybe that's it. And she might be overtired because she only ever naps for short periods (20-40 mins), and that 2x per day, sometimes three if we let her nap in the late afternoon. But then, she's always been like that, and it's never affected her nighttime sleep. The problem isn't getting her to sleep, it's keeping her asleep (most of the sleep solutions I read about are for getting to sleep).

Or maybe she is just reacting badly to her first cold or tooth (although no tooth yet, so I'm thinking cold). So it might not be a major problem at all, but just a phase. Still, it worries me - will we go through this EVERY time she is sick or teething? Because yikes. It's really horrible. J and I fought tons yesterday (the only way we stopped was that Maggie and I literally just left for the whole day) because we're both so tired.

And we can't let her just cry because her bassinet is in our room and we have housemates. We're not in a position to move her to another room. Sometimes bringing her into bed with us helps; sometimes it just makes it harder. At least this morning she's her normal happy self (how is that possible with so little sleep?). The last two mornings she woke up crying instead of cooing - totally weird for her! I'm glad she's happy; but man, are we pooped!

What do you think? A 5 month thing? Or maybe because of the travel/new skills/lack of naps? Should we redouble our efforts for naps? Or just hunker down and wait for it to pass? Please tell me it's normal! Have you experienced something similar??

An update from us

2008-11-06T12:37:00.001-08:00

Since so many of the people reading this are friends and family (well really I consider you all my friends and family), I wanted to give an update on how things are going for us. This is personal stuff so if you just read here for my oh-so-brilliant theological/political/foodie commentary, then you prob'ly want to skip this post. :)

The very good news is that me & Maggie's little vacations these last couple weeks were not in vain: John is finished (or at least 95% there) with his first dissertation draft, which he said he can send off to his committee in the coming week. YAY!! Then he will have some time off while they consider revisions, and he plans to spend that time looking very seriously for a job (he was holding off on the job search while writing so as not to split his time). Depending on the number of revised drafts, it could still be a while until it's all done, but at least he's got the first major hurdle overcome, and he's once again available for teaching. This is huge. If ANYBODY knows of jobs teaching philosophy or film or both - at any level - please let us know. John's a great teacher with tons of experience and lots of cool class ideas that go over great with students. He will take adjunct work again for now, but of course we would really love to find something full-time (with benefits!). Location does not matter. He should be officially a PhD before next fall semester, possibly earlier.

Also, while digging through old stuff, he found a paper he wrote that is good enough to polish and send in for publication. So that's also good news!

Anyway I'm getting to the worst part of my semester - the next four weeks will fly by but also be completely FULL. Still, the light at the end of the tunnel is definitely coming into clear view. Every day I make the decision to keep going, but it's not always easy. I don't think I'm taking more than one course next semester either, because it's just been too much with the new-parent demands. At least next sem there's a course on faith & food, so it should be a pleasure rather than a chore.

As for Maggie, she seems to have her first cold, but I'm hoping a few days of normalcy will clear it up. It's not awful (yet). But I have been up with her since about 4 this morning (not the best schedule for a student!). Her plane ride yesterday was terrible, but I think she just feels not herself. We had a really wonderful time in Chicago and Iowa, and it was fun to put the baby cousins all together (and a little scary - there was a lot of curious hitting going on...).

Thanks for your ongoing prayers and support. We can make it! Yes we can (ha ha).

Oh one more thing: does anybody know when it's safe to let Maggie have communion bread? I don't mean theologically appropriate, I mean when it's safe physically. I'm less worried about wine (since it has germ-killing properties and she just has a pinky to suck on), but I know that giving bread to babies too early can mess with their digestive system and/or cause allergies. BTW the places we commune at all use real (leavened) wheat bread. Thanks!

If Jesus Ran For President...

2008-10-29T21:36:00.001-07:00

I'm disappointed in the jab at the end (could have kept it nonpartisan), but this has some good stuff in it.

I noted to J how "socialist" Jesus sounds, with all his talk of the "redistribution of wealth." And J pointed out that, in fact, Jesus is worse than a socialist, because rather than wanting all things to be equal, he wants his followers to be sacrificial - to give MORE of themselves to others than others give to them. Not that if you have an extra coat you give it away to someone with none, but you give your extra coat and your other coat too! Jesus' ethic puts us lower than others...it means we are the last (who shall be first...).

It's just so un-American, isn't it?

Some random thoughts

2008-10-29T20:40:00.000-07:00

Watching Obama's infomercial tonight kind of reminded me of watching The West Wing. I even got teary at the end. The joke in our house was that John cried at every episode - there was always this moment (in the first season at least) when it just got so heart-tugging, and I'd look over and he was wiping his eyes and trying to be inconspicuous, and I'd mock him relentlessly.

Anyway, bless the man, he read Michael Pollan's open letter to the next president. Here's what he said about it:

“I was just reading an article in the New York Times by MichaelPollan about food and the fact that our entire agricultural system isbuilt on cheap oil. As a consequence, our agriculture sector actually iscontributing more greenhouse gases than our transportation sector. Andin the mean time, it’s creating monocultures that are vulnerable tonational security threats, are now vulnerable to sky-high food pricesor crashes in food prices, huge swings in commodity prices, and arepartly responsible for the explosion in our healthcare costs becausethey’re contributing to type 2 diabetes, stroke and heart disease,obesity, all the things that are driving our huge explosion inhealthcare costs. That’s just one sector of the economy. You thinkabout the same thing is true on transportation. The same thing is trueon how we construct our buildings. The same is true across the board.For us to say we are just going to completely revamp how we use energyin a way that deals with climate change, deals with national securityand drives our economy, that’s going to be my number one priority whenI get into office, assuming, obviously, that we have done enough tojust stabilize the immediate economic situation.”

(The full interview is here)

I'm about to head out to AAR, yay. Mostly very happy to see my family who are coming to watch Maggie while I attend my session.

I got to lunch today with a new prof at GTU who is teaching a class on (drum roll please) food and faith. Well that worked out pretty darn well. Turns out, she knows a lot more about the food side (and the socio-cultural aspects) than the faith (this she readily admits), so it's going to be a fun class to take because I'll get to learn about those aspects I don't know much about, and add to the discussion when it comes to the religion stuff. Plus it will be multi-faith, and looking at everything from gender issues to holidays, and there will be field trips...I mean, this is sounding like something that might even be worth stepping away from Maggie for. Just for three hours a week, that is!!

As for me I continue in my rather confused state, but I can't say much about where I'm at because life is just up in the air right now. Suffice to say that some days I'm a bit miserable, many days I'm OK, mostly I'm happy because mostly I'm with my daughter, and she's the light of my life. Thank God for the other moms I've met, who are getting my through all this, and for my breaks with family, which are more frequent these days. And I'm also really enjoying our church, so that is a blessing. (the ordination thing even came up recently...but I don't know how anxious I am to start down that road again)

Anyway I'm just praying John will be able to finish his degree soon and find a good job, so we can have good insurance again and he can be back teaching, which I know he misses. Though I do love having a great personal chef!

OK I'm going to get on with watching some hard-earned TV. Thank goodness Maggie went down easy tonight. Ha ha - she's like a fine wine - goes down easy, mellows with age. (or a cheese? more likely, with my genes)

Questions from an Undecided Voter

2008-10-22T08:44:00.000-07:00

So I've been chatting with a close friend who's still undecided about who to vote for. I thought it might be interesting to post her questions here, in the hopes that you all might help me answer them. This is a long-time Republican (who admits she previously voted "blindly") who is really trying to make her own decision this time, and based on all her values, not just a single issue or two. So, here are the things still holding her up from voting for Obama - help me convert her! :)

1. Taxes: the concern is with Obama's plan which, according to what she's read, will cause her husband's employer (a small business that makes $7 mil a year) to pay so much more in taxes that the husband will likely be laid off (otherwise the owners would have to take a pay cut - which they estimated at $90,000 - and they won't like that). Now apart from the gross injustice of this situation (and what small business owner makes so much that they would have $90k CUT??), does anybody know enough about the tax plan to say whether this is actually the case? It sounds like crazy troll logic to me. But she claims that whenever Democrats are in the White House, his kind of job tends to be laid off (she admits this is partly due to the fact that they have contracts related to wars, and Republicans make more war...but when you're struggling to feed your family, keeping your job does come higher in your mind than worrying about war - and probably rightly so).

2. Abortion: apparently Obama has voted against banning partial birth abortion. Furthermore, he voted for some situation in which the end result was taxpayers funding abortions (I don't know the details on either of these - maybe you know what she's talking about?). She doesn't want her tax money paying for partial-birth abortions. She's also disturbed by this comment he apparently made about not wanting to "punish" his daughters with a baby (which I can't find in any reputable news sources but if you google that phrase, it's all over the conservative blogverse). Can anyone shed light on any of these tales? True, false, or what were the subtleties and details?

Thanks so much. I have hope! Yes, we can - get one more vote!

Serious Sustainability

2008-10-21T19:33:00.001-07:00

Michael Pollan holds forth on how food is the link between many of the contemporary crises facing the country, and proposes some ideas for fixing the problem (goes with his letter to the next President).

I gots no time fer bloggin'

2008-10-18T13:29:00.000-07:00

Because I'm happily spending my free time this week (it's "Reading Week" aka fall break) going out of town. So I have to get going on the homework. Instead of doing a real post I'll point you to some ones I've liked lately:

http://videoutintellectum.blogspot.com/2008/10/churches-could-lose-their-tax-exemption.html - Thoughts on prop 8, politics, and tax exemption by John McAteer

http://craig.purplestateofmind.com/?p=522 - thoughts on McCain's negative campaigning by Craig Detweiler

http://www.sojo.net/blog/godspolitics/?p=3009 - thoughts on the broadening of the abortion debate by Jim Wallis

Don't forget to vote! I'm voting early by mail! And for my baby's sake (and because I always listen to her wisdom), I have to...

Food agenda for next potus

2008-10-10T10:29:00.000-07:00

A note from Michael Pollan:

This Sunday's New York Times Magazine will carry my open letter to the next president, outlining a new food and farming agenda. It's called "Farmer-in-Chief" and it was just posted on the New York Times website at:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/12/magazine/12policy-t.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

My intent is to inject these issues into the public debate, especially during the transition, by demonstrating that it will be impossible for the next Administration to make progress on energy independence, health care costs, or climate change without comprehensively addressing the problems of the food system.

I hope you'll take a look at the piece (as well as the rest of the issue, which is terrific) and share your reactions.

[I concur! - Stasi]

Are we our brother's keeper or not?

2008-10-09T09:48:00.001-07:00

I am concerned and upset by an attitude I’ve been hearing from many Christians about politics. Maybe this is an old problem, but I just feel like lately I’ve been noticing it more. The basic complaint is that there are all these lazy people living off the government – which means they are living off of taxpayer money. The way that many people vocalize it is something along the lines of: they should not be expecting me to pay for their [fill in the blank: food, healthcare, too many kids, retirement, etc.] with MY hard-earned money.

This distresses me for many reasons. First, I think it reveals a basic insecurity about money (which we’re all coming by honestly these days) which is based on, frankly, loving money more than God. Jesus said you can only serve God OR money, not both, and if one is this obsessed with somebody else getting to use their money (as if any of it was ours to begin with), then one seems to have chosen the side of mammon. Jesus said do not worry about what you will eat, or wear, or how you’ll get by, because your heavenly father will take care of you. Now of course I recognize that we live in a world that requires us to have some means in order to at least put a roof over our heads. But then again, I wonder…there are people who manage these things without turning money into an idol. Then there are people who DON’T manage them, and still are content.

I’m not saying we have to be ascetics or stop buying things (though we should probably stop buying so many things), I’m just saying that the basic idea that it’s “MY” money is the root of all evil. When I got married I had to stop thinking of my finances and J’s – it became “our” money. Now I feel compelled to take it a step further – to admit that, in fact, since all good gifts come from God, I must be willing to return them all back to God. I must be willing to allow what I think is “mine” to belong to the whole world.

Another issue is believing that we don’t somehow hold responsibility for our neighbor, that we’re not our brother’s keeper. I heartily disagree – I believe we are absolutely called to take care of others, particularly the poor, as Christians. Sometimes I think of paying my taxes like giving alms – as part of my support of the poor and oppressed, done on a massive scale that I couldn’t accomplish alone (nor could my church). I believe that when Jesus says if we are asked for our coat we should give our shirt also, he’s specifically saying don’t hoard, don’t take more than you need, and give generously to all those in need. There are ways that the government can actually help in this (there are lots of ways they hurt too, of course). And there are ways to vote with our dollars – such as buying fair trade and supporting local farmers – that reflect this ethic.

This is also why I believe so strongly in universal healthcare. It’s not a perfect system – nothing is. But it’s the only way I can see that ensures everyone at least has a shot at getting medical help when needed. As a Christian I believe that healing is one of God’s gifts, and I absolutely believe God performs that work through medicine and doctors, not just through prayer (though God answers only prayer sometimes too, but more often I think it’s all these things working together). Because I want to live in a society that cares for its elderly and children equally with those who are healthy and wealthy, I have to be for universal healthcare. I have to go with the option that will cover the most people and will always be there for those who need it most. Market-based healthcare denies coverage to sick people, plain and simple. That’s backwards. And when healthy people use it (if they have a job that offers it), they often get screwed too. So it’s really bad to leave it in the hands of corporations and the free market. It’s simply not a commodity. And it’s not a responsibility or privilege. It’s a right. Because I believe in making this world as close to God’s ideal as possible, I believe it’s a right. Because in God’s world, everybody gets healed, whether they can afford it or not.

And whether they deserve it or not. This is another of my pet peeves. I hate this attitude that everybody who is poor is lazy, or everybody who needs some form of government assistance could get off it if they’d just work harder. First of all, that’s a joke in this economy. Second, you don’t know anybody’s life except your own; how dare you judge? (I believe Jesus has stuff to say about judging others too) Third, even if someone is ripping off the system, how is that any of your business? Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. More than that, God makes the rain fall on the just and the unjust. God gives generously to everyone, whether they deserve it or not! So if we want to emulate our heavenly father, we have to allow “our” money to be given just as generously and, yes, wastefully.

God’s grace is pretty darn wasteful. He wastes it on all sorts of undeserving people, most especially me. I don’t deserve a thing I’ve gotten from God – and neither do you. So how can we complain when the master forgives the debt of another? Or when he pays the same wage to someone who worked a fraction of the time we did? We can’t. (and if we don’t think of the money as our own, none of this will bother us anyway)

So maybe you think that all this economic stuff isn’t really in the Bible – that these are all spiritual metaphors. Maybe, but I am pretty sure at LEAST the stuff about loving God more than money is about money, and the rain falling on all equally is about farming which was their currency, and giving the coat and shirt is about generosity and sounds pretty darn practical, not just spiritual.

Many Christians only see one thing about money in the Bible – the place where Paul says that those who don’t work shouldn’t eat. Well it’s pretty silly to take that one literally and all the rest not. But even if you do, that verse is about people in the church, not the general public. Once people are in the church, yes, discipline can happen. We seem to have it backwards. We seem to think it’s our job to discipline the culture, and care only for those in the church. That’s not what the Bible teaches, it’s the opposite.

So, I don’t want to hear any more complaining from Christians about where their money goes – unless it’s complaining about it going to clearly non-Christian things, like war or oppression or environmental degradation or even, I would say, a big corporate bail-out (capitalism is not a Christian system). Just get over it, people. Your money is not your own, and when it’s used to help people, for crying out loud, get up and cheer, don’t bitch about it!! As Christians we are GLAD when something happens that helps others! It means God’s kingdom is making inroads on this sorry little planet. And if that something is not deserved or appreciated, well, that just makes it all the more like God’s greatest gift: his son. Does it not?

One final point to address: there’s the libertarian idea that the government shouldn’t be taking care of the poor because that’s the job of the churches. The government should, I guess, just be for defense (isn’t McCain’s spending freeze essentially going to do just this? Huh). But stop and think about this: if the general attitude of Christians is that poor people are lazy and don’t deserve financial help from those who are better off (however they got better off), then how in the world would that change if the churches suddenly took over? If Christians truly believe that it’s not “their job” to provide food, shelter, healing, education, and the like to others, then they church will be the LAST place people will find help and relief. The government HAS to pick up the slack, because as near as I can tell, there aren’t too many Christians who’ll be stepping up to take its place.

Christians like to give money to their pastors because their pastor’s “job” is to teach them and take care of them. Essentially, they see the church as a business in which they pay for a product – namely, the salvation of their soul – and receive benefits such as fellowship, counseling, programs for the kids, status in the community, good feelings, some nice entertainment on Sunday morning, and so forth. (ok that’s pretty cynical, but somewhere in that list there are at least a few things that everybody wants to get out of church) So, if you only want to give to the church because of what you get out of it, then your basic attitude about money has not changed. Your money is still in the service of YOU, and you alone. It has not been given over to God.

I think if the government took Christians up on their pleas to let charity become entirely privatized, the poverty in this country would dramatically increase, more children would go to bed hungry (it’s a travesty that so many already do), way more people would die or be ill because of lack of healing, and generally the idealized notion that the church would take over would be proven utterly false. Because the fact is, the attitude is not going to change overnight. And if you don’t believe the government should help the poor, then why would you believe the church should? The same issues will come up: who deserves it? Who’s not using it for drugs? Who’s got too many kids and thus doesn’t qualify? Who’s not living up to our standard of looking for work? And so forth.

We cannot forget: the rain falls on the just and the unjust. God gives without distinction. God doesn’t require drug testing, or limits on children, or proof that you’ll use your life well. And Jesus didn’t say to check and make sure the person really needs the coat – he said just give to whoever asks of you, and give MORE than they ask for. That’s a really hard calling. I’m not great at it. In fact, I really struggle with it. But I know that it means we can’t complain about these things.

It kind of boils down to what you think government is for, or what its potential is. If you believe the government’s only job is to make war (i.e. “defend” you – which usually actually means defending your way of life, i.e. your possessions), then you want it out of the public assistance business (and you probably make fun of “community service”). But if you believe the government can be used as an instrument of justice, then you try to vote and spend in ways that promote public good, even – perhaps especially – at taxpayer expense.

The final thing I have to say is that this is all, entirely, faith-based politics. I would never expect someone who does not have my faith to agree with this ethic. They might, because it can be arrived at through other means. But this, for me, is based on the teachings of Jesus, and I only hold Christians to his standards (and I do believe these are his standards – but if you are a follower of Jesus and disagree, let me know!). So please realize that this comes from a place of faith and is not universally applicable. But for you Christians out there – shape up!

Religulus

2008-10-07T17:16:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately I don't have time to see this film right now, but I encourage you to check out the thoughtful review from Craig Detweiler.

I did catch a bit of Maher on The Daily Show. He was whining about how God always comes through a prophet - always speaks to somebody in a cave or on a mountain, but never comes in person to talk to humans and tell them about himself, to say "hi" and show us the way to live and all that.

Apparently, Maher hasn't heard of Jesus. Or if he has, he talked to Christians who didn't explain that in Jesus, Christians believe that is exactly what God did.

Oh, well.

Ever increasing separation

2008-10-06T09:09:00.000-07:00

I forgot in yesterday's post to mention one other thing that someone said to me at church, and I really resonated with it and I think it's at the root of a lot of what I'm feeling.

She said that for moms, when you are pregnant, the baby is so close to you that she is quite literally a part of your body (or a parasite, if you prefer!). The moment you give birth, that baby starts a lifelong process of ever increasing separation from you.

At the moment of birth, dads meet their babies and begin connecting with them. Moms, on the other hand, instead begin losing connection.

It's why each little separation hurts ... and why I am so reluctant to stop co-sleeping (though we mostly have, but I miss that little body next to me so much, even though she wiggled so much I couldn't sleep most nights) ... and why even having her out of my arms feels strange.

And what really sucks for us mommies is that it just has to keep growing, this separation. In order to send a healthy human being out into the world, we must continue to allow her to be ripped from us in myriad ways as she explores and becomes her own person.

This is a hard thing. And it taps into deeply primal feelings, hard-wire stuff that many of us didn't know we had in us.

But, on a positive note, we found a support group of other parents that's starting up at church. That should help a lot.

And speaking of issues around babies, check out the Film Philosopher's (aka my baby Daddy) review of Lake of Fire. Now THAT was a seriously hard film to watch, and I wound up always watching it when nursing, which was all the more traumatic.

Screaming Inside

2008-10-05T16:42:00.000-07:00

"how's it going?"
"how are you liking school?"
"are you enjoying your classes?"
"don't you just love the bay area?"

I get asked questions like these nearly every day. Usually the first two. And I never know exactly how I'm supposed to respond. Am I supposed to be honest and tell this person that I'm dying inside? I highly doubt they want to hear that. Especially the people from my school. How do I nicely explain that it's absolutely nothing personal, nothing against the school itself or the program or faculty, I simply experienced an existential crisis and suddenly discovered that I'm really a stay at home mom and I'm fighting that identity with everything in me and it's making me miserable? How can I explain to a person without kids - or even a working mother - that every moment I am away from my child I am being eaten up inside...I hurt every second of it. It's not a relief. It's an ache. I am sorry every moment that I'm not with her. And not guilt-sorry, but regret-sorry.

Absence doesn't make my heart grow fonder. Presence does. I don't know why or how, but I honestly don't get tired of her. Maybe one day I will...but on that day, maybe I'll be ready for my own life again. At the moment, I really wasn't. Oh, I'm still doing it - I'm still out there doin' the career thing. But it's not fulfilling or fun. Yes, I sit there and have adult conversations. I find them boring. Yes, I am ridiculously obsessed with my baby. But it's my truth right now.

And I know it's all me - it's not anybody else's problem or fault. I blame nothing but myself. Still, it's hard to live with. I so wish I'd not taken any classes. I wish I'd listened to my heart and been good to myself. I'm still taking lots of time with Maggie, but selfishly, it's not enough. I'd rather play with her or read parenting books than do homework. I mean, I didn't know it would be like this - not when I applied or when I accepted or when I enrolled or when I decided to stick it out with one class. I keep testing the waters, but it keeps coming back Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.

I think I'm getting depressed. I'm having trouble sleeping, and getting obsessive & anxious, and getting mad at everybody over dumb things. I feel so rootless. I have no home. No safe place. I can't even think of one that I have access to (and I've tried - when I meditate, I have no "happy place" to go to). Yes, that's a bad situation I put myself in. Naughty me. But I have to live with it now, and find a way forward.

I mean, don't think I'm all crazy sad and crying all the time. In fact, I'm quite good, most of the time -because I'm with Maggie most of the time. And that's why I wonder if there isn't something to this staying at home thing, because the only time I'm sad is when I'm not with her. I don't need time away. I simply don't right now. I really do just hate sitting there in class, or when I have to send her away with Daddy so I can read. I really hate being away from her.

And yes, I know I have to cut her loose to be her own person one day. But for God's sake, she's four months old. I don't think I'm smothering her yet!

It's funny...people kept telling me I'd feel different.
Oh, you're just pregnant.
Oh, you're just postpartum.
Oh, you've just moved.
Oh, you just have a newborn.
Oh, this that and the other.

Ummmm...Or maybe, I actually feel this way. Maybe it's not to be blamed on hormones or stress. Maybe I'm genuinely at a place in my life where the best thing for me is to just be a Mommy.

Well there's not much I can do about it. I'm sticking out the year at least, to make sure I don't screw up this golden opportunity at the phd. I can always do a phd later, it's true (and I wish I had), but I won't necessarily have the deal I have right now, which is pretty ideal. So I'm giving it a good fair shot. And who knows? I couldn't have predicted not liking it, so maybe one day I'll surprise myself and love it again.

Or maybe I'll just remain so deeply in love with my child that I will let the screaming out of my insides, into the world, and then it can be quiet in there. I'd so love that. To just be real and honest and me. Even if the me is really a disappointment to the academic world, and the feminists, and whoever else thinks I'd be wasting my life.

OK, I'm going back to my baby now. I'm not wasting any more of these precious moments on you people. Ha ha -just kidding! I would be lost without this blog. I need the venting space, and I need your support. But I also need to change a diaper, so bye!

Rebirth of my inner preacher

2008-10-01T14:30:00.000-07:00

So I signed up to preach at the episcopal seminary's chapel. I wound up getting one of the hardest texts to preach, esp for a universalist/liberal/interfaith person like me. I wrote three wildly different sermons before settling on the one you'll read below. It was really hard to get back into the mode, after a year away from the pulpit. It took a while to find my voice again (had to go reread some old sermons - which is a bit depressing because some are really good & I always wonder if I'll ever hit those heights again).

The first draft was actually a very nice, adequate, liberal, touchy-feely sermon that would have been quite forgettable and would have been very comfortable for me to give. By the final draft, I was writing words that even I wasn't sure I agreed with - but somehow I felt that they were what God wanted to say. I was really nervous about it, but in the end, actually giving it was just kind of a blur because I have a horrible cold and I'm all stuffed up, so I feel like I haven't slept in days and I'm kind of in a fog. I mostly just wanted it to be over so I could sleep. So I hope the spirit did something with it, because this clay jar was pretty broken.

But in the end, J liked it, and he's my toughest critic, so usually I can figure it's not too bad if it gets his seal of approval. Apparently I didn't deliver it with my usual flair, but again, I was barely able to stand up, so I'm giving myself a pass. [it's funny - I remembered that my last sermon before a congregation I was running a temp of 102...what is it with the preaching and the illness?]

Anyway, here it is.

Owning the Way

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Challenging.

Exclusive.

Intolerant.

Hateful.

Gospel?

I am a Christian. A Christ-follower. For me, Jesus must be the way, the truth, and the life. Otherwise, what am I doing here?

And yet. And yet.

My friends are not all Episcopalians. They are not all Christians. They are Muslims and Jews, who respect Jesus but do not worship him. They are Hindus, who may see him as one of many gods. They are Buddhists, who resonate with some of his teachings but do not get the point of a personal god.

How do I share this gospel with them?

And what of us, the Christ-followers? Is Jesus “the” way or merely “a” way? Can we even agree on what the word “Christ” means? Has the name Jesus become an embarrassment?

Can we own these words – this scandalous statement of Christ?

Well. One thing I know is that we always must put scenes like this into their whole context.
So let's back up a little.

Peter has asked Jesus where he is going, and Jesus says Peter can’t follow him now, but he will follow him later. Many believe Jesus means he is going to the cross, where one day Peter too will be martyred. Despite his proud boasts, Peter cannot follow Jesus in this way…yet.

But Jesus has another destination: his Father’s house, where there are many rooms. He goes to prepare a place for his disciples. He tells them that they already know the way to this place.

But how, Thomas asks, can they know the way to the place, when they don’t even know where it is he is going?

Now Jesus has already told them that he’s going to return for them, to personally bring them to himself. So really, it doesn’t matter all that much if they know the way to the place or not. Still, he indulges the question, giving one of those beautiful answers that is extremely pointed and contextual, yet very easy to pull out and place on a bumper sticker.

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Who speaks this? It is the Logos. The one who was there, in the beginning, with God. The Word that was spoken to create the universe. The Word that came out of the burning bush. The Word that tickled the prophets’ ears and soothed the fears of boy kings.

This is the Word by which God reaches into the world, how he communicates with us, so it makes perfect sense that, incarnate or otherwise, this Word is the Way back to the Father.

No one comes to the Father except through Jesus because Jesus is, simply, the self-revelation of God. “All truth is God’s truth, as all life is God’s life; but God’s truth and God’s life are incarnate in Jesus.” (FF Bruce)

And what of the destination: the Father’s house? It has many rooms, or “dwelling places.” There are many different places to dwell, to be, and still be in God's house.

But the way to the house is Jesus.

The way isn’t a set of propositions, or a particular denomination, or even a certain religion. The way is a person, who opened the doors to God’s house and stands ready to receive everyone into many rooms.

Should we wish to follow Jesus, we already know the way…it is the way of the cross – with all the love, sacrifice, humility, weakness, and faith that requires.

How do we explain this? How can we make it make sense to others?

1 John 4:6: “We are from God. Whoever knows God listens to us, and whoever is not from God does not listen to us.”

When someone truly knows God, he or she will recognize God in Jesus.

Many people see God shining from the lives of Mohandas Gandhi or Sojourner Truth or Cesar Chavez. If you honestly look at Jesus – at what he said and most importantly, how he acted – you simply know he’s from God.

Our calling is to present Jesus in such a way that he is obviously Godlike. Tell the truth about Jesus, and it will point unequivocally to God – to the God whose way is the way of the cross.

That is not exclusive; it is simply the reality of who Jesus is. And it is not forcing belief in Jesus on others; it is simply revealing the way God reached into the world through the Logos.

My hope for each of us here in this Christian seminary is that we are able to say that, at least for us, Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. The journey of others to God is their own; but for we who claim the title “Christian,” these challenging words are our statement of faith.

May we, with all grace, own them.

Women Pastors: Unfit for Public View?

2008-09-26T17:02:00.000-07:00

Shocked, offended, disappointed...and not all that surprised.

That pretty much sums up my reaction to this story about Lifeway Christian Stores pulling the magazine Gospel Today off its shelves and hiding it, like so much pornography, behind the counter.

What, you may ask, was so horrible about this issue that it would be hidden away, only available if asked for, and kept safe from the public eye (and impressionable young children)?

Well, duh - because the cover story reported a shocking reality: there are WOMEN who are PASTORS!!

Let's leave aside for a moment the complete idiocy of pretending that women clergy don't exist in this day and age, and the asinine assumption that reporting something exists means promoting it.

Let's jump straight to the dangerous mind-control exhibited by the Southern Baptist Convention in believing it needs to shield people who shop its stores from even the knowledge that such a thing exists. Oh sure, they say it's because it's against their doctrine. But don't you think it's really just that seeing women in that position gets under their skin? The reaction - to place the mag behind the counter - makes clear that they view the very position of these women as so offensive as to be pornographic, as unfit for public viewing.

That makes me sick. And as a woman who's trying to be in ministry professionally, it hurts.

And besides, I'm sure the "gay agenda" or Satan worshipping or abortions are against their doctrine too, but that hasn't stopped many Christian magazines with cover stories reporting on those issues from being displayed in stores. The key here is that the magazine was simply saying this exists, it's an interesting phenomenon, and desiring to start a conversation.

But God, we can't have conversation! That might lead to independent thought! And then...well...they'd probably lose a good number of their members. Let's hope at least the females.

This reminds me of the story I wrote on about seminaries running degree programs in Christian homemaking. It's just ugly behavior toward women, particularly these women who have answered their callings despite many barriers and odds against them. I'm surprised they haven't mandated the head coverings called for by the apostle Paul for women in church. As long as they're letting women get away with the makeup, hair, and jewelry I see on TBN, I don't get why showing a woman in pastoral garb is unbiblical. Have you people read 1 Timothy? You can't take the Bible literally and then let your wives, even with their degrees in home cookin' and Sunday School teachin', get away with that kind of display!

Well I have to get on to watching the debate. Here's another version of the story. And thanks to Episcopal Cafe, where I found out about it.

Otherizing Obama

2008-09-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

The Push to "Otherize" Obama

"What is happening, I think, is this: religious prejudice is becoming a proxy for racial prejudice. In public at least, it’s not acceptable to express reservations about a candidate’s skin color, so discomfort about race is sublimated into concerns about whether Mr. Obama is sufficiently Christian.

"The result is this campaign to “otherize” Mr. Obama. Nobody needs to point out that he is black, but there’s a persistent effort to exaggerate other differences, to de-Americanize him."

White Privilege

2008-09-22T14:55:00.000-07:00

At the risk of opening myself to attack, I have to post this from Tim Wise. He brings up a lot of thought-provoking points. I don't know if everything he's saying is exactly accurate (I haven't had time to keep up with all the Palin family characters & ensuing drama), but it rings true. I know it isn't fair, but that's rather the point. It's certainly inflammatory, but c'mon, it's a blog! We know all about inflammatory here. :)

http://www.redroom.com/blog/tim-wise/this-your-nation-white-privilege-updated

and the followup:
http://www.redroom.com/blog/tim-wise/explaining-white-privilege-deniers-and-haters

Here's a taste:
White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don't all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you're "untested."

...

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don’t even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a “second look.” 

...

White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you.  [stop & think about that for a minute...person holding a gun, or talking about their gun, and the color of their skin...and your gut reaction...this one really gets me]

[Oh, I do disagree with his statement about the amniotic fluid...there he is belying some ignorance of the birth process...so perhaps he's wrong about several things...but I still found it to be food for thought...something to chew on...I think I'm hungry...]

Spiritual Gifts

2008-09-21T15:04:00.000-07:00

So here's a question that arose for me today. I'll try to recreate the chain of thought:

In today's sermon the preacher talked about the "evil eye", referring actually to envy (it was the parable of the workers who are pissed that they work all day and get the same wage as the workers who worked 1 hour - apparently they gave these people the "evil eye") (btw this is all hilarious to us b/c we always talk about the evil eye at home - usually one of the cats is giving it around here - but that's neither here nor there).

So ANYWAY he was talking about how he had the evil eye for the people with iphones until he got one. And I got to thinking about how my envy issue is about ordination. Specifically, it's about my friends who are sailing through their ordination processes with no problems whatsoever, after all my struggles and eventual giving up.

Now I realize LOTS of people have horrible times in the process. But for some reason, I don't feel in solidarity with them - I am more just jealous of people, however few they may be, who have no trouble with it. Primarily this is because the people I know who have an easy time of it are people who mostly didn't know they wanted to be ordained, or hadn't given it much thought, and just kind of fall into it. They trip and land in the ordination almost by accident, while I've been clawing for years for the privilege. They don't even realize what they have, and I couldn't want anything more.

And I found myself saying that what really gets me, when I'm horribly honest (and here comes a self-revelation that is probably among the reasons I'm not a good ordination candidate!), is that I feel like I'm gifted at the stuff that goes into the priesthood, and a lot of times, I see others who, if I may be crass, just don't seem as gifted at it getting straight through. Or maybe they're not interested, or maybe not as smart, or even not as spiritual, or whatever. You know, it's that nasty side that I have where I say hey, I'm better than they are!

Oh, don't judge me. You probably have felt that way about something you wanted too.

Anyway, so yes, I'm rather petty about it when I let myself be, which isn't often. But I heard myself say this, and I realized wait, one thing I think I believe is that God often works with the weakest and least among us because God wants to prove God's strength in their weakness. Makes sense, right? I mean, it's the point of the quote I keep at the top of this blog from Dr. John.

So then I thought wait, there are two schools of thought on this. There's the school that says that I am gifted and passionate about something and that's God telling me it's the thing I'm supposed to do. I call it the Liddell school of thought: God made me fast, and when I run I feel his pleasure (Chariots of Fire). I want to be a priest because God made me that way.

But the other school is that God makes us exactly not gifted for the things we do because in our weakness God is strong. God wants to prove that it's her work and not of our own ability, so God lifts up those who seem like they wouldn't be good at the work, just to show us all that God can do anything with anyone.

There seem to be biblical and historical examples on both sides of the question. So I don't really know if one is right, or if they might just apply differently in different circumstances, to different people, depending what you need to learn in this life.

And I don't really know which applies to me, although I have a hunch it's the second one, because I know I get too proud of myself when I'm exercising my gifts (I can't help it - it brings me so much joy).

So what do you think? Are our spiritual giftings signs of our place in the kingdom? Or are they roadblocks to our true calling? Should we be looking at what we love and are good at when discerning vocation, or run in the opposite direction? Just how much of our own ability are we allowed to rely on - even relish - and what of it is God-given for God's purposes, and therefore not ours to own? Or is that a false dichotomy?

I really am confused about this now. I really don't understand how both of these could be true at the same time. But if it winds up being that I'm not supposed to do the things I'm good at and most love, then I'll be honest with you: that will make me sad. But I'll try to keep my evil eyes to myself. And I'll try to convert my jealousy to awe when I see God working in someone else's life in miraculous ways.

Some provocative food posts

2008-09-17T19:32:00.003-07:00

I am really fascinated by these two posts (and the comments) by the participants in a food studies class at Pomona:

First I was sent this tidbit, which is outrageous (the actual website is so offensive - it brings up so many bad racial stereotypes!):
Obama Waffles

And then I noticed this post, which is pretty germane to my life these days (and I do find myself weirded out by breastfeeding even as I do it myself!):
Breastfeeding, Cow's Milk, and the Idea of "Natural"

Can't wait to be part of discussions like this with my students - what a great idea to have a class blog!

I figured it out

2008-09-17T19:32:00.002-07:00

3 am feedings are fabulous for mental clarity. Last night I sussed out that what was really bugging me wasn't so much that I had to take my class for a grade, or that the faculty might see me as a slacker. What really was getting to me was that I had compromised what I wanted to do and chosen the path that, I thought, made me a better student and more agreeable all around. And the reaction seemed to be that it still wasn't good enough. I had honestly tried to make everyone involved happy, and it wound up backfiring and seemingly making nobody happy. Best laid plans, you know.

Anyway I got the fee waived so that's a blessing. And being graded isn't really a problem since I'll do the same level of work either way. If Maggie winds up getting sick or something, then I'll find some way to deal - that's why God gave us incompletes, right?

It's tough when you feel like you're taking one for the team and the team says no, you're still doing it wrong. Makes it hard to wanna stay on the team.

But I'm here for now, at least for this year. I gotta give it that. And besides, I'm pretty sure I do have some bona fide depression going on, since the insomnia (after that 3 am feeding I pretty much didn't get to sleep again) and the crying jags have started up again. That's just oodles of fun. So I guess I have to medicate myself so I can continue on with life. Joy. I really wish I didn't have to. To me, better living through chemistry is the last resort. But I surely can't go on getting so little sleep. So we'll see. I've been on hold with Kaiser for about 15 mins now...not sure I can mentally handle the process of getting mental help!

Thank the LORD I have a wonderful friend from LA coming up this weekend. I miss my friends SO much!! It's so weird and hard to start over with all new people, even though we've met some great people, they still don't know our history, so it's just not the same. I'm so grateful that God keeps sending me visitors at just the right moments. It's going to be so good! Esp because last night in my insomniac craze I was getting ready to drive back home any moment...

Faith & Food

2008-09-17T19:32:00.001-07:00

These is my kinna peeps:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/09/05/AR2008090503593.html?referrer=emailarticle

Gotta get my book out soon or this trend will pass! Curse my sexy topic!

"I've made a huge mistake"

2008-09-17T19:32:00.000-07:00

Well not really, but it always makes me laugh to hear that line (from many, many episodes of Arrested Development), so J & I use it for every little thing. And big things too. But mostly it's funny to say it when you forget to ask for no pickles on your burger or something.

Anyway I feel like a total moron now. The whole taking my class pass/fail thing got blown way out of proportion, and wound up going to the whole faculty for discussion, and now I'm basically mortified because all these people will forever see me as The Girl Who Wanted to Take Her Classes Pass/Fail. (insert organ chords here)

I'm trying to make light but actually I'm damn depressed. I feel like I've screwed up my reputation. They want us to take classes for a grade so they "know we're taking them seriously." Well that makes sense, but also, I always take school seriously. So it didn't occur to me that I might send the signal that I'm not. That's why I wrestled so hard with the decision of what to do this fall.

And then I made a choice that I thought would make everybody satisfied, and I still got busted. I thought I was making the responsible choice, still being a relatively good student in light of my new responsibilities, and I still come off looking like the yahoo, the slacker. And I hate that because people, I am no slacker. God, I've put so much pressure on myself my whole life. My teachers used to chastise my parents for pushing me so hard, and they had to tell them it was all me. And this was in grade school.

Anyway I'm cranky and depressed. After they met I felt like they were all treating me differently. Like oh, we're so stupid for giving that girl our big scholarship. And then I went to the opening convocation for the year, and there I am in the program as one of the few scholarship people, and I was just miserable and embarrassed. I couldn't enjoy it. Well I did enjoy it when Maggie started laughing because I was bouncing her, but I had to make her stop, so pooey.

At least I have the blog to vent on. I'm pissed also because they didn't make this decision until after it was too late for me to change it for free, so now I might have to pay $50 to change to a grade, even though I was completely within my rights (per anything written down) to take the class pass/fail. If someone along the way would have just said, "I think you might want to leave it as a grade" then I totally would have! But now I'm stuck and I have been instructed to change it, but not because of a policy or anything, but because that's what's expected. And I get it - I totally get it. I just really wish it were made clear. I was confused and now I pay the price. I realize that a lot of stuff is just politics and unwritten laws, but it's difficult when you haven't learned to play the game yet and the rules keep changing on you. If it were expected, then it should be made clear in the handbook. The handbook, in fact, says the opposite - that classes may be taken pass/fail - and doesn't say anything about needing to take grades. So it's super confusing. And coming from a school where there's no stigma attached to p/f, I didn't realize what a big deal it would become. It wasn't a big deal to me at all.

OK, I can stop now. I'm also pissed at our housemates because they're eighteen and they are used to their parents cleaning up after them, and they don't really know how to run a household or keep things nice. So J and I are getting to take care of a lot of stuff that we'd rather not, like picking through their trash to get out the recyclables, etc. Next time I'm getting more seasoned roommates, people who've lived on their own a while and know how to keep house. It's just more than I feel like dealing with.

Maggie's been especially drama queen lately - she's super happy most of the time (thankfully, usually that's in public), but then when she's tired, she has major meltdowns. This just started. She used to nap so readily. Now she has to scream for at least a couple minutes and sometimes a half hour before she'll go down. Ugh. So when she's doing this, the last thing I feel like doing is also parenting two teenagers (who have sex waaaay too loudly and then fight waaaaay too loudly, not always in that order).

Anyway there's a lot in my life. You see now why I needed the break from school?! And yes, I'll admit it, today I finally really did get depressed. But not about Mags, she's still mostly wonderful (excepting the meltdowns). Just about my rep at school, and dealing with the people I live with, and generally feeling like...well...I've made a huge mistake.

Ha ha.

Mommy/Scholar

2008-09-13T10:33:00.001-07:00

So I'm sure you've been on the edge of your seat waiting to see what I might do about school and/or full-time motherhood. At least I have been. And it was a ping-pong decision 'til the last moment.

I talked with my dean and it turns out that the institution has this wonderful "parents policy" that states their belief that parenthood (both new and taking care of elderly parents) is so important that the school will grant extensions in academic progress to those who are in one of those situations and need extra time to get everything done. Wow - how very enlightened of them! So with that policy I could take off a semester or even a year from classes and not be considered deliquent or whatever you want to call it.

Furthermore, they arranged a way for me to keep my scholarship and health insurance - the money would go to paying for "prep for comps" credits (which are phantom credits that you pay for but don't have any requirements to meet), so I wouldn't get it back for another semester, but I also would keep my full time status, stipend, and insurance. The drawback would be that whatever I missed this semester I'd have to make up later, out of my own pocket.

Still, I left that meeting feeling really surprised and relieved, because as far as the institution goes, there were no roadblocks to my full-time mommyhood. I have to give major props to the GTU for this. I don't know of very many doctoral programs that would be so understanding. It really is such a family here. And to think - I was afraid that the "liberals" might be all cold and academic - but they're just as warm as the Evangelicals! Maybe even moreso, since there's not all that moral expectation that goes along with friendship (just kidding...sort of).

Then I met with one of my profs who also had babies while doing her PhD, and she assured me that everything I felt was completely normal and right. See, a few people had suggested maybe I had post-partum depression, so I was wondering if I was a bit off the deep end. But in fact, PPD manifests as a rejection of the baby and as not wanting to spend time with her, and I'm having the opposite "problem." So maybe I'm depressed generally, but no, I don't remotely feel so - I don't cry, I feel really happy all the time I'm with her and much of the time I'm not, and overall I think my mental health is way better than it's been in years - but I did have the stress of this decision, and I was sad when I was away from her sometimes. And being sad away from your child is normal healthy attachment!! Imagine! I've just bonded with my baby, but it's so strong that our society sees it as a syndrome! Well not our society, but it was the first thing that came to mind for a few folks, innocently enough (they probably didn't realize that it was the opposite symptoms), but still, that's a sign of the misinformation out there as well as the general response to motherhood which tends to see women who have such a strong attachment to their children as somehow "less" human, or lacking some vital part of being an adult, or what have you. I've certainly bought into that mentality, until now.

So anyway, my prof still expressed disappointment that I wouldn't be taking any classes, and that I wouldn't be "tracking" with the incoming class (although as J pointed out, who cares in a doctoral program? It's not like we're all going to graduate together). So I left THAT meeting feeling like maybe I should try to take my classes after all. But was that because I wanted to, or because I wanted to make my prof like and respect me? Hmmm....that was the question I had to ponder.

That was all on Tuesday. By Wednesday, I was trying to come up with ways to stay in class but also stay with Maggie as much as I could. I cooked up a plan to go all pass/fail, but even then I knew I'd still do the same level of work (that's just me) and I didn't know if I was allowed to do that anyway. On Weds morning I took Maggie with me to a workshop at school for half the day, and she did great, and I was so happy to just have her there but still be doing my school stuff. So I was thinking, this could work.

Thursday I talked to my advisor. After the institution, I was most afraid of the reaction I'd get from her. I mean, she's German. She's brilliant, too. And doesn't have kids, so could she possibly understand?

Well I was shocked when she started off on a rant about how women in her country take a year off and what is WRONG with America that we expect women to go back to work so early, and why doesn't the government support maternity leave, and yada yada yada...and I realized, hey, this lady is SO on my side. She was like, "I don't know why you don't just take this whole year off!!" I was really thrown, but pleasantly so. And she agreed to go to our area and explain the whole thing and be my advocate. Wow. I love my advisor.

So after that I went to J and suggested I take off this semester from classes, and then we'll see about next. And he got really excited because as it turns out (and as many of you warned me), he hasn't actually had time to work on his dissertation, and if I took baby full time then he'd actually get something done! Imagine!

Then I went to class and I had a great time. I wasn't miserable at all - I was rather outstanding, actually. I really enjoyed our discussion and I remembered how good I could be at the whole school thing. I don't know if it was just from the pressure being off or what. But I still felt like I was going to drop everything, even after that.

Then that evening I told the prof (same prof as before, who also teaches that class) that I was dropping. And she expressed the same sentiments: sorry not to have me, I was an asset, and sorry I wouldn't keep up with my class. For some reason, it really stuck this time. I began to doubt again. So much so that I was up half the night deliberating and rethinking everything. And let me tell you, it ain't fun to look over and see that it's past midnight when you know you're getting up in three or four hours for a feeding. I was mostly upset because I couldn't figure out if I was doubting because I wanted to please the prof or because I genuinely doubted whether I should quit classes.

Friday morning, got up, still feeling disconcerted. One of the things (of many wise things) my mom had said to me about this was that I should make the decision I wouldn't obsess over. Well clearly I was still obsessing, so the decision wasn't right yet. I also kept remembering something my best friend, a SAHM, said to me: that she regretted not working. I'd never heard a SAHM admit that! And then finally I had gotten an email from another woman who had had babies during her GTU doctorate, and she strongly encouraged me not to drop everything, telling me I'd feel great about myself if I could pull off school and motherhood together. And I knew somehow that she was right about that (but could I pull it off?).

I guess at this point I might as well cut off the rest of the story (I mean, gawd, how could this possibly interest anyone but me at this point??) and get to the decision, which wound up being to drop one class, keep the other (the foundational class taught by, yes, the prof who's been instrumental in all this), but make it pass/fail (turns out there is no policy on that, so I'm testing uncharted waters), and not put any pressure on myself to do anything except the one class this semester (and when I go to things like meetings and workshops, Maggie goes too). I worked out a schedule with John in which Mon-Thurs I take Maggie in the morning with no other agenda, and then for three hours in the afternoon I do school (homework or class or meetings - but no more than three hours, maybe less some days) and he takes her, and then in the evenings and Fri-Sun I completely take off and don't think about school one bit. Except of course for the conversations I have with him about what I'm learning, because he loves to get all up on his high horse about liturgical stuff. :)

Anyway I think that's what will work. At least, I'm giving it a try. With the class at p/f I don't have to stress about a grade, and I can allow myself to lower my standards a bit, just for this one semester, just because I am responsible for the growth and development of a human being (which hey, is a pretty awesome responsibility). I mean, of course she'll still be here next semester and after that too, but I have to deal with that when it comes (and these first months are so crucial - plus I'm still feeding her exclusively from my body, which won't be the case later).

So in the end it was a compromise, but I actually think it might make everyone involved pretty happy. I feel good about it. I couldn't let myself quit school completely - not after I'd done so much to get here and we'd invested so much in my going. No, I am still a student (as I learned in class Thursday), and I need to keep that side of myself alive. But I think I found a way to do it and keep my highest priority here at home, my real full-time job being Maggie. I'll do about 12 hours a week on school, which really isn't that much time when you think about it.

Plus if she does something amazing, I will just be in the next room.

Wow. Good old Feminarian. She found a way to keep juggling all her balls after all. OK, I'm getting back to my baby now.

It's my life

2008-09-08T10:31:00.000-07:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/15/magazine/15parenting-t.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

(thanks jtb)

i agree with the idea that, instead of trying to share all our work equally, we allow each partner to focus on what s/he enjoys or excels at. or at least hates less (in the case of chores). so I always clean the bathroom, & j does dishes. but we alternate sweeping (when you notice, you do it). j cooks but we shop together as much as we can, because we both enjoy it. obviously I feed the baby more, so he changes more diapers. he does more housework, but I do all the finances & make dr appts (which we both attend - so far). it works out & doesn't have to be equal - just fair.

i hope when the time comes, i'll make costumes & he'll run the video camera, b/c that's what we are each good at. my biggest hope is that we can find employers, like these parents in the article, who will support our choices as co-parents, and allow us to have these 30 hour weeks (or even more home-time) so that we can accomplish this. i guess a lot of it is just making it clear that this is the priority from the outset! like right now, we have our lives arranged so that maggie is always home with one of us, unless we're having "me" time or date night, in which case a friend is watching her. fortunately academia is one of those fields where you really can mostly set your own hours, and a lot of your work can be done from home. dunno how well that would work in the ministry...but then again, the church, of all institutions, should most be supporting this, since it is part of sustaining a "whole" personhood!

anyway i applaud these parents' choices and what i can learn from them, and I think we have a similar system that works well for us. [even if you can't read the whole thing, skip to p 8 where it discusses how same-sex couples don't fall into gender roles - how interesting and true!] I hope we can keep it up. And you see from my post yesterday that I still long for the "traditional" role - this co-parenting thing is out of the box and it's tough!

More about St. Greg's

2008-09-08T09:57:00.000-07:00

I forgot to tell the cutest part of the story from yesterday: so after the service we met the interim rector, and it came out that he went to FULLER of all places! That's about the last thing you'd expect from a singing, dancing, inclusive/welcoming, very creatively liturgical church that weaves together the East and West (of all traditions) in its ethos. But yeah, dude did his MDiv there (along with Wilma, one of my field ed supes), which means there's hope for me yet.

And so John and I were chatting while I fed the baby before we took off from there, and he said, "We should have known that guy went to Fuller. It was the first good sermon we've heard up here!"

Now I won't necessarily go that far (although it was by far the BEST sermon we've heard since moving), but I had to love it, because it was probably the nicest thing he's ever said about my seminary.

There you go, Fuller - at least you turn out great preachers!

Helluva week

2008-09-07T15:03:00.000-07:00

Wow. I survived my first week of a PhD. And to cap it off, I think we found our church today. Which is a huge relief and a blessing. It's the one I knew I'd love - St. Gregory of Nyssa - but it turned out to be everything I need liturgically plus really kind, wonderful people, which ain't too common these days. You often get one or t'other but rarely both done well.

Plus they have a really developed theology around food, so their liturgy and outreach programs are both interesting to me professionally as well as meaningful to me personally. We loved the liturgy at Grace Cathedral, and we enjoyed the community at a couple of the Berkeley churches. But I think we're both kind of giddy after having such an experience this morning. It totally reminded me of the way I felt my first visit to All Saints (BH). That's a rare thing.

And John's already coming up with ways he'd improve it, which means he's invested. :) I tend to like to wait and learn a little more before passing judgment, but to each his own. I know that his nitpicking means he cares.

But otherwise, this week was rather...intense. If you've done a doctorate (or are doing one), you probably get it; if you've had a kid, you also get it. If you've done both, then I need to hear from you, because I need some serious support.

The strangest thing happened this week. Instead of falling headfirst into classes with my usual energy and excitement, I found myself kind of resenting that I had to be there. Instead of reading eagerly because the subjects just turn me on, I was dashing through books so that I could get back to what I really wanted. And instead of thinking how lucky I am to be spending most of my time studying something I really care about, I began to think it was boring and unimportant, and that I actually don't much care at all.

All of this because of one little girl.

Damn it. I kind of saw this coming. I wrote about it months ago, and some of you said to go with my gut that was telling me to quit then and there. Maybe I should have listened. Because now I'm really kind of stuck - I have a scholarship and health insurance that I'd lose (the latter is most inconvenient b/c of Maggie - why oh why don't we have universal healthcare for children??), and I moved my family up here where John doesn't have work, and oh yeah, I promised he could work on his dissertation instead of teaching. I mean, we invested a hell of a lot in this program for me, and they reciprocated. There's some responsibility there. And guilt.

Plus I'm trying to be the person that I thought I was...the person I've always been...which is a person who's kind of ambivalent about kids, but who loves school - loves learning, debating, writing, reading, and generally getting all smart about things. I am a perfect doctoral student candidate - I am exactly what you're supposed to be if you're thinking of doing this. And I pretty much know I will love teaching, and/or chaplaining or whatever I wind up doing with this degree.

But...

I feel stupid admitting it. I feel disappointed in myself and definitely like I'm letting a lot of people down. But here's the rub: I love my baby more than school. Well, duh, I'm supposed to. But I mean, I think I might rather sit and watch her try to roll over for an hour than read a book about early liturgical documents. (maybe many of you feel that way - but you're not in my field)

Suddenly my life is so much simpler, and my interests are so ... well ... basic. I never thought I'd actually want to just stay home with a kid all day.

Then I met my kid.

So I guess what I'm wondering is if this is a phase. If this is something every working mom goes through on her way to rediscovering fulfillment in her job, redefining herself as "working mom." Does it pass? Will I actually want to leave the house one day?

It's scary...even when she's not being the ideal baby, I don't care. I still want to be with her. When I'm away from her my arms feel empty. My heart hurts. I need her, physically. And I can't stand missing anything she does.

It's funny. I ask myself if I will regret not getting a PhD in liturgy. And there are some things that I'd really think were cool to do - like helping write a new prayer book, or perhaps teaching - that might go by the wayside if I didn't do it. The PhD is kind of a means to an end - I first thought of trying it because I wanted to be a Dean of Religious Life and that requires a PhD (in anything). But it's in the field that's always been great fun and joy for me. So it's not like I didn't think I'd enjoy it. I'm shocked that I'm not enjoying it more.

In the grand scheme of "you only live once," I think about what I'd most regret, and I keep coming up with the answer that I'd regret missing my baby's first months. You know, the school will always be there, and all that (although the scholarship won't necessarily always be there, and that's a serious consideration). I don't get this time with her back; I don't get to do it again.

It would help if she weren't so gorram cute.

Anyway, I'm kind of miserable right now. Well, not right now, because I'm home with her right now. But I had such a time getting through class the other day without bawling. I managed because I went to the bathroom at break and cried my eyes out. And that was only 3 hours away from her, with her right there waiting when I walked out of class! What is wrong with me??

John keeps saying it's not that much time away from her. And he keeps reminding me why I'm doing this degree. And he's right. But he's also talked me into this many, many times. And I had to ask him, am I doing this for me? Or because he keeps talking me into it? And shouldn't I not need "talking into" if I really want this? And does he actually want it more than me?

He gets to stay home with her. Plus I think he's less connected to her - no, just differently so. I am actually, in some way, physically connected to her still, even though she's not inside anymore (and I am really physically connected still for several hours a day while feeding her!). So I'm not sure he really understands what I feel.

But you know, I really took this step in life with my eyes wide open - both steps, actually, the child and the degree - and I knew what I was getting into and I worked it out as perfectly as one could manage, really. I mean, how could this not be the right path, when everything went the way I'd hoped it would? And yet...

Well I don't have time to blog anymore. I really have to get back to reading. Sometimes I can do that with her on my lap, and that feels really complete and good. But a lot of the time she's just too wiggly, so I have to have her away from me, which she hates and I hate. And I have to go away to class, which we both hate as well. And I just don't know if I should sacrifice so much happiness. And then there's the matter of my subject not seeming all that great anymore. But that could be first-week nerves. Or it could be the paradigm shift of becoming a mommy. Which is a much more serious issue and I believe it deserves recognition.

Anyway I'd love to hear from you, and most of all ask for your prayers (perhaps more prayers than advice? Unless you've really been here - then please tell me how it felt for you). I don't even know if I have any options that are really that great. I mean, it's too soon to make any long-term decision about my degree, I think. Isn't it? Maybe a leave would be helpful; but it could screw us on the financial end. Or maybe sticking it out for a while is better; but then I'll miss whatever I miss in the next three months (which would be a helluva lot, from 3-6 months).

Stupid ordination process. If that hadn't gone all crappy I'd be in it right now, and quite honestly, I could have been really happy just with that. I already miss the priestly work. I was thinking at that church this morning how much I'd really love to just work at a parish like that (but who wouldn't? it's pretty unique), or do the little helps I was doing with the liturgy at ASBH. If only the ordination thing hadn't been so sour, maybe I never would have gone after the PhD. It's a bummer. There are actually a lot of things I could do without the PhD - besides being a priest, there's still college ministry of some sort, or there's writing liturgies on some level, or there's even writing my book about food spirituality. None of these requires the doctoral work.

But I'm in it now, and at one time I really thought it was what I wanted. And really what's changed isn't so much the field or degree itself, or the alternative careers. It's that I have Maggie now, and she's changed everything. She's changed how I see myself and what I care about. And she makes me want to find ways to be with her, to teach her, to show her the world. She makes me care less about esoteric knowledge (except to share it with her). She makes me see the world differently, and I want to see everything in this new way, with her, as if for the first time.

I don't know if I'm making any sense, and I know I sound pretty irresponsible. I'd be kind of horrified if my colleagues read this...but then, part of me doesn't care. Part of me has never cared what people think, which has been the basis of so much of this blog. What makes this blog what it is, why most people read it, is that I let myself bleed on here, I let other people see the real me, the woman who is not put together or very sane, who is often depressed and usually quite confused and sometimes pretty angry. Definitely not the best Christ-follower out there, not even close. A terrifically flawed human being.

But if there is one thing I have learned, it's that other people feel how I feel, in almost every situation. It's made my preaching better to know this. It's made me more empathetic. It's made me more sensitive and aware of the great universal love that's everywhere around me. And so I'm grateful for it - I'm grateful to be a person who can be raw in front of others, who can open up even when it's embarrassing or inappropriate. Who will even say things that might ruin her reputation or career. Because in the end, who really gives a rip? Maybe I'm trying to sabotage myself so I can stay home with my baby. It would be funnier if it weren't potentially true.

OK, now on to homework, really and truly. John has threatened to take the baby for a long walk so I have to be good so he'll keep her here. Otherwise I miss time with her on an at-home day, and that's really not fair.

Maybe this will all go away in a couple weeks. Maybe I'll be back in love with school again, in addition to the new great love of my life. I'll keep you posted. It's a lot to discern, and I am not feeling as close to God as I would like to in such a situation. Lots to pray about, and I feel a little cut off from my Mother in heaven. But then again, maybe I understand how She feels in a way that's more real and deeper than it could have been before. Maybe all this is teaching me something about God...and maybe She wouldn't mind if I did change my mind, even after all the blessings that were showered on me, because maybe she just wants me to smile.

I know that's how I feel about my baby.

First Day of School

2008-09-02T12:29:00.000-07:00

Awww, I'm off to school again, just like almost every year of my life. Dear school: we've got to stop meeting like this. How will I ever become a grownup? Eh, who cares.

So after crying for having to leave my baby (who favored me with her first real laugh just before I took off), I wound up being in class a grand total of 1 hour. That wasn't so bad. And now I'm home again and I practically feel like a stay at home mom (that's a SAHM for those on the baby message boards). J and I are switching off who hangs out with her, so I get the rest of the day after I have class. Which is awfully cool, to just forget school and enjoy her.

Sometimes I do wish she could entertain herself for just a few minutes, though, so I could, say, write a real blog entry. She's sitting by me in her bouncy seat, but if I don't look at her she gets fussy. So much like me - has to have all the attention all the time. And is perfectly content as long as nobody is doing anything except listening to her. Geez, child, did you have to be SO much like your mother?

I did want to quickly report on my one hour of class. The makeup of the class is so interesting - so new for me! For one thing, the majority of the class is Eastern Orthodox. Well that never happened at Fuller. But when I pointed this out, they explained to me that since they are Greek, Serbian, Russian, and Coptic, they will, in fact, not agree on anything. Nice to know the Protestants don't have the market cornered on that!

Other stats on my class: there are 2 catholics, 1 lutheran, and 2 of us episcopalians (plus all those Orthodox, including the prof). Three master's students and 5 doctoral. Three women and 5 men.

The class looks to be very similar to the History of Eucharist class I sat in on last spring, with assignments that are basically repeats from that one and other liturgical history classes I've had. That should make them rather easy, since I have great notes on all this stuff already. I am kind of amazed that Fuller, of all places, really prepared me so well for this. Well, not so much Fuller as Todd. It's funny - he went to Notre Dame, as did my teacher for this class, and they basically have us doing the same class. I wonder how much that's going to happen to me. I guess that's how the academy works - classes don't really get created so much as handed down through the generations.

Anyway it shouldn't be so bad. And I've already read the books we have assigned, which is cool. My other class has TONS of reading, so I'm grateful to have more manageable assignments in history. It's kind of neat, though, that in both classes I've at least heard of, or own, most of the books already, even if I hadn't read them yet. What a great little library I must have.

And now I get to read a book about research methodology (not everything is fun) - but at least I get to do it with a sleeping precious on my lap. :)

I'll tell you - this morning I was nervous and sad, and feeling again like I shouldn't have done this so soon after the baby came. Or maybe not at all - just stayed in LA (which I'm missing), and rented my friend's house (oh - I know of a house for rent - if you're in the market, email me), and J could have kept his old jobs, and I could have kept trying to get my ass ordained. But now I'm thinking it's not so bad. I'm really barely going to miss the baby - I didn't even miss a feeding today. And I think I'll get used to Berkeley and the Bay Area (but so far, people, LA still has my heart). And yeah, I'm sad about not pursuing the priesthood, but it's not like that's off the table forever. This next season of life holds a lot of promise, and I hope to enjoy it and not just be a stress monkey.

Anyway now I'm babbling and I should get on to things more pressing while I have my hands free. I'd promise a report on my first readings...but I really doubt it's going to be that compelling!

The Ordinary Radicals - Trailer

2008-08-28T16:57:00.001-07:00

The Omnivore's 100

2008-08-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

So thanks to my food studies list serv I discovered this random list of foods that I suppose is meant to challenge those of us who consider ourselves "well-eaten" (like well-read, you know). In the spirit of wasting some time (this is a sanity-saving device now that life is too busy for words), I'm going to just do it now. I found it here, and the genesis is traced from that blog on back to whoever came up with this nutty idea.

How It All Works:
1) Copy the list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating. I have to italicize b/c I don't know how to strike through on blogger...duh.
4) Optional: Post a comment at Very Good Taste, linking to your results

The 100
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea [I've had tea with nettles as a component, so I'm giving myself credit]
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare [I think it was termed "kobe sashimi" when I had it]
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp [possibly? no idea. baby brain doesn't go well with this sort of task]
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses [??]
17. Black truffle [oh yeah, baby]
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes [pineapple and raspberry]
19. Steamed pork buns [just last Sunday for lunch]
20. Pistachio ice cream [wouldn't have but John recently ordered us a shake with it instead of whatever it was I had wanted, and as I feared, I didn't really love it - it was real though, not neon green]
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn or head cheese [just not sure I can go there although I probably would, given enough whiskey first]
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper [I know my limits]
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi [must try this next time - I always go mango with my lassi]
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float [just had this last night]
36. Cognac with a fat cigar [I've had them separately but I'm not sure if together...]
37. Clotted Cream Tea [again, separately, but I don't think together]
38. Vodka Jelly/Jell-O [sadly, my campus was dry]
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects [depends on the # of legs & eyes]
43. Phaal
44. Goat's milk [does it count as cheese or yogurt? I say yes]
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth $120 or more [a bartender I flirted with in Napa gave me a taste from a vintage of my birth year - I'm sure it was that pricey]
46. Fugu [??]
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin [raw, even]
51. Prickly pear [I think I must have]
52. Umeboshi [??]
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald's Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle [again, can't remember, seems possible]
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine [??]
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads [they'd have to be cooked by a starred chef]
63. Kaolin [??]
64. Currywurst [sounds awful]
65. Durian [??]
66. Frogs’ legs [yum!]
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake [all, actually]
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings or andouillette [that's weird of me]
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe [want to]
74. Gjetost or brunost [??]
75. Roadkill [not that I know of]
76. Baijiu [??]
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang Souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom Yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky84.
3 Michelin Star Tasting Menu [Guy Savoy]
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare [I had rabbit on Thursday - what's the diff?]
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse [been places with it but other stuff was more appetizing]
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam [hell, I've been to the Spam Jam!]
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

I have to credit adventurous sushi chefs, the city of New Orleans, and the buffet at Bellagio for many of my bolded items!

My score is 70. How many have you eaten?

Orient me

2008-08-22T08:10:00.000-07:00

My baby gave me the finger today while I was nursing her.

That pretty much sums up our relationship lately.

I'm kind of looking forward to 8 hours of orientation today.

Mostly because I know I will miss her by the end of it.

I'm Back

2008-08-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

Ha ha! After not quite one month I am here again to entertain and delight. I just got so sick of watching John getting to blog that I determined to find the time. At the moment I have a milk-drunk child sitting on my lap. I figure I can get a few keystrokes in while she poops out what I just fed her, before it's time for diaper change and more entertaining her. We have grandparents in town but they're busy...still, they watched her and we went OUT, like fully out, and that was really quite amazing. I'm still stunned at how long I got to stay away (with a bottle at home, she can go like 5 hours without me - whoa). We saw The Dark Knight and even ate afterwards. It was like a date or something.

I really loved that movie, btw. Also Wall E, which we just took the baby to (figure other kids will make noise so it's OK - again, grandma took her out when she got fussy). Maggie did end up watching parts of Wall E (I try to limit her watching tv or movies, but sometimes, I just give in) and she was fascinated. I mean, if she's going to see anything, Pixar's pretty solid stuff.

But to watch Dark Knight without having a baby on my breast - wow! It was the first movie I've done that since she was born (I've seen 4 in the theater and she ate during all the others, which isn't ideally comfortable, plus distracting). Maybe I enjoyed it so much because I could really watch it. Well, that, and Heath Ledger - WOW.

So I have to give a quick update on school. I'm feeling really good about it. I had lunch with my "buddy" (GTU assigns the newbies an advanced student in our pgm so we have a guide), and she insisted I only take 2 classes, and even told me exactly what to take so I could be busy but not overwhelmed. I love this woman. I owe her my sanity. Now I will only be away 3 hours two days a week. It will hardly affect our feeding sked at all. Plus I really still miss my girl when I'm gone, so it won't be too hard. What a relief.

School starts in 2 weeks then. Since I'm not taking anything at Cal this semester I don't have to start until Sept 2. Nice. I'm so enjoying my time right now. I do have orientation - three brutal, almost 12-hour days, starting Friday! But we're working out a feeding schedule and the school is being so awesome about accomodating us.

I'll write more about starting the program when I've actually done that. So far, all I know is that my books are going to cost a fortune. But at least they're all books I really want, so I can't complain too much.

So on to the Maggie update. She has really come a long way. She still has the loudest squall of any newborn you'd meet, but she reserves it for more special occasions these days. Some days we only get the screaming for a few minutes, which is awesome. Others, she has a harder time. The worst part for me is not knowing if she's just mad or actually in some kind of pain. We have found some hints as to her troubles - we can usually tell if she's tired, or sometimes if she's hungry or wet (she'll even tone down the crying for those - more fussing than screaming - unless we've let it go really too long). Still, she's such a mystery.

She does seem to bore easily. We tell ourselves she's just very intelligent and therefore cannot abide any activity for very long. She's always wanting to see something new. She loves sitting at the table with us while we eat, and loves going outside (cranes her neck up to look at the patterns the trees make against the sky). It's really fun to see her personality developing, even though she is a drama queen like her mother (and father, in all fairness).

We got our living room painted and some furniture (somebody's giving us a crib and high chair - what a blessing!), and it all is pretty cool. If you want to visit my house (I have a HOUSE, man!), come! I'm so proud of it. I love my washer/dryer (and using cloth diapers!), love my clothesline out back, love my grill (yay craigslist grill), love walking around my neighborhood. All in all, this was a great place to choose. I do hope to plant veggies or herbs, but in the meantime, we've found a glut of CSAs to choose from, so that's good. And we hit at least one farmer's market a week (there are three that are easy to get to for us).

Berkeley is definitely the foodie town. What a perfect place to do my work! And I'm going to visit Michael Pollan's office hours when school starts. The only bad thing about eating here is that it tends to be expensive. We always said LA was the best town in the world for good food that doesn't break your bank. It's totally true - up here, the great food is available, but so expensive. And most places we've gone that we can afford are NOT all that. So it's sad. In LA you can always find a tiny family-run place with cheap, delicious food. Here, you get what you pay for. Pity.

Anyway I have to run. This post has been a luxury but the day has to start. It's nice to write again. I hope to write more soon. Peace!

Great news!

2008-07-19T15:59:00.001-07:00

Here's an answer to a prayer I hadn't even verbalized: WOW - GTU's health insurance rates just plummeted. It's only going to be $381/month ($4,572 annual) for ALL THREE of us to have insurance! That means we can actually afford it for not only me & Maggie but John too (though he will protest - and for just me & Mags it's $2856 for the year, so we might go that route - though I do think that, as a daddy, it's important that he can get medical care if he's sick, especially since he's the primary care provider!). The rates went down 62% from last year (it was $11,525 for a family last year). That's a huge blessing for all of the GTU community!!

This means that insurance won't even take up my whole stipend! And we might even be able to consider not taking out a student loan, which would be really good since I'm a little worried how much we've already taken for my master's.

I'm so relieved. I'm really glad because now I feel like I don't have to try to get the government program. I don't know - the gov't program is really cheap - only $15 a month - but I'm just not sure we'll qualify. At least if we try for it and don't get it, I will know we can get insurance at a reasonable cost anyway.

What a relief!

What to read

2008-07-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

Since I have no time to blog these days, may I refer you to my friend Mary Marjorie's blog? She is writing from Lambeth, where she's a Steward, with her insider's perspective. Should be really interesting.
http://seminlambeth2008.blogspot.com/

John's blog is still going too - don't know how he finds the time. Video ut Intellectum, there in my links.

Berkeley is about perfect except I've been cold since we arrived. There are worse problems to have, I know.

Don't know when I'll be back, so have a great summer.

Help!

2008-07-10T11:24:00.000-07:00

Our movers showed up a day early, unannounced! We didn't have the house packed at all, and now they are packing it and charging us for that, plus we are trying to scramble to get everything together that we need in the car (some of which got packed by them when we weren't looking), and get ourselves ready (mentally and otherwise) to be driving away from here today instead of tomorrow, with our fridge still full of food and our goodwill bag not gone and all kinds of stuff not ready. This is about the worst thing someone could have done to us at an already stressful time.

Don't know when you'll hear from me again but please pray for my sanity. I'm not taking this well. Thank God the baby finally started sitting in her bouncy chair, allowing me two hands some of the time. But yeah, I'm sitting with her and the cats in an empty apt in our complex, unable to see what they're doing to my stuff, not knowing how much this is going to cost me.

It's just a crap day all around. OK, I'll be back someday when I have internet access again - and I'll be in Berkeley! Geez!!

Very quick update

2008-07-03T17:18:00.000-07:00

Here is my very quick update because I'm supposed to be sleeping because baby's sleeping (and I got 3 hours last night - which has been a regular occurence, and actually caused me to get a little sick). Mostly I have to sleep in 1 hour increments, interrupted by an hour or more awake, and that's not a very great way to get rest.

I did my postpartum checkup today and lost 7 lbs from my prepregnancy weight (that is, all baby weight plus 7 lbs - this is probably because I only gained 20 lbs anyway, and I've been barely eating and breastfeeding which burns major calories). I also was advised no sex for another month. Oh DARN (that is so sarcastic).

Maggie is doing WAY better and although she had a growth spurt last week that cause some fussiness and crazy-eager nursing, she's mostly not screaming as much and we're able to respond better to her. We still have our marathon feedings now and then, but I've been doing some bottle feedings so I can take her off earlier (I'm doing breastmilk in the bottle). My one side is still horribly sore and even hurts to pump, but it's getting better with her on it so I might skip pumping it altogether. The other side pumps like crazy anyway.

Maggie has been doing these amazing explosive poops - it's really astounding the noise level that comes from a baby's tiny ass. Mostly anymore she fusses only when hungry, when about to poop, or when I take her off the breast because it hurts (and then I fix it by either giving the other breast or a bottle). And we have gotten those most rewarding smiles - when it actually seems like she's recognizing us. That's super cute.

I haven't been sleeping enough but I guess I already said that. I got scared because my breasts got engorged and painful and I was running a little fever and feeling very out of it, but a little sleep helped with that. So I know sleep is super important now, and I might just let John take one of the night feedings to help me get more sleep overall.

OK, I need to get to my nap now - she sometimes will sleep all evening and I need to start taking advantage of it, even though it's very inconvenient for me to nap through dinner. Oh well. Thanks for keeping in touch.

Oh, and we are moving next Friday (11th) so wish us luck with that. Am trying to keep sane.

Week 3

2008-06-27T12:01:00.000-07:00

Gosh, next Tuesday my baby will be a month old. Wow! She's really developing so fast. She's incredibly strong - she's always rolling around and wiggling out of our arms, especially and unfortunately during diaper changes. When I burp her by sitting her, she doesn't flop over anymore - she sits up and looks at me, for a good few seconds. She holds her head up all the time, too. It's really amazing how strong she is - and from what we can tell, strong-willed.

I don't know when the "real" smiling is supposed to start, but I've said before that she's always been pretty smiley - in her sleep she even laughs these beautiful full-body laughs. Well today she was in her bassinet and I leaned down really close to her face and she broke out in a huge smile. So I don't care if that wasn't "real" - it was as real as this momma needed.

She's also in her 3 week growth spurt - her eating behavior completely changed and now she gulps voraciously and noisily. She's also a bit fussy but knowing that it's probably due to the growth, we can deal with it (she had a couple good days just before the spurt started, so I don't think she'll be colicky). Nursing continues to be a challenge off and on, but the biggest challenge is trusting myself. I have to put all the advice into the hopper, but in the end, I have to trust that I can read her cues. Every time it's hard it's because I'm trying to do something someone else said was right, instead of just following what has worked for us. It's most helpful when people remind me that I'm the mommy and that means I really do get to say what's best. Hey, I'm the one who gets smiles! (well John does too, and that's super sweet)

As for the move, it's moving forward, and it will be OK. I'm really looking forward to my house! And I realized last night there was absolutely no reason to be afraid of the PhD program -it's school, and I'm GREAT at school! John pointed this out too, reminding me that the scary hard challenge in my life is the baby, not the classes. If anything, school will be the thing that brings my confidence back, because I know I can do it and do it very well. So I feel good about that. It's absolutely something I'm gifted at and I think it will make me happier and more well-rounded, and maybe even more confident with the baby since I'll feel empowered overall.

Anyway those of you who pray for me, many thanks. I pray for me too, but more for Maggie, that she'll just find her happiness, and know that we will absolutely always love her and meet as many needs as we are capable of doing.

OK, momma doesn't get much time for leisure, so I'm off.