hermionesviolin: a close-up crop of a Laurel Long illustration of a lion, facing serenely to one side (Aslan)
Monday night I was gchatting with Batshua and she asked:
How do you feel about prayer beads?
I am drooling at them.
I already have two sets and am not buying more.
But this woman does lovely prayer beads for … pretty much anyone.
I'm not much of a prayer beads person myself, but I browsed and we had this conversation:
me: I keep looking at the Jewish ones and going "ooh!" and then remembering that oh, that's a Jewish symbol, not a generic star. Why's my religion gotta have its core symbol be one I'm so not into?
her: Well, I don't think there's anything WRONG with having something with a Jewish star on it just because you like it?
I mean, it's not like you're gonna nail Jesus to it.
That would be weird.
me: Fair -- it still feels somewhat appropriative to me, though.
her: <— is an eclectic pagan
her: <— politely appropriates all kinds of stuff
Later, I read Sarcastic Lutheran's "Sermon about Mary Magdalen, the masacre in our town, and defiant alleluias," and was surprised to find that in reading it I found a way to approach/embrace the Cross that makes it more palatable for me.

Nadia writes:
My Bishop Allan Bjornberg once said that the Greatest spiritual practice isn’t yoga or praying the hours or living in intentional poverty although these are all beautiful in their own way. The greatest spiritual practice is just showing up.

And in some ways Mary Magdalen is like, the patron saint of just showing up.

Because showing up means being present to what is real, what is actually happening. She didn’t necessarily know what to say or what to do or even what to think….but none of that is nearly as important as the fact that she just showed up. She showed up at the cross where her teacher Jesus became a victim of our violence and terror. She looked on as the man who had set her free from her own darkness bore the evil and violence of the whole world upon himself and yet still she showed up.

[...]

And then after Beer & Hymns we sat in a noisy Denver bar and sang Vespers together, we sang our prayer to God, and in our singing I heard a defiant tone. The sound of a people who simply will not believe that violence wins, a people who know that the sound of the risen Christ speaking each of our names drowns out all other voices.

It drowns out the sound of the political posturing, the sound of cries for vengeance, the sound of our own fears and anxieties and the deafening uncertainty – because all of it is no match for the shimmering sound of the resurrected Christ calling our name. Because in baptism we are a people marked by the cross of Christ. Upon our foreheads is the mark of violence and death but this violence and death has been overcome by the love of a God who in the 3 days between Good Friday and Easter reached into the very bowels of hell and said even here I will not be without you. //This is the God to whom we sing. A God who didn’t say we would never be afraid but that we would never be alone. A God who shows up. In the violence of the cross, in the darkness of a garden before dawn, in the gardener, in a movie theater, in the basement of a bar.

[...]

Singing in the midst of evil is what it means to be disciples like Mary Magdalen.

Because to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is to show up. It is to be a people who stand – who stand at the cross and stand in the midst of evil and violence and even if we are uncertain we are still unafraid to be present to all of it. We are unafraid to name the dark demons of evil and to call a thing what it is. And to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is also to be a people who weep. A people who show up to the tombs and weep. Weep for ourselves and weep for each other and weep for our city and weep for dead 6 year old girls. And to be disciples like Mary Magdalen is to be a people who listen and turn at the sound of our names. Amongst the sounds of sirens and fear and isolation and uncertainty and loss we hear a sound that muffles all the rest: that still, small voice of Christ speaking our names. And finally, the very reason we can do these things is not because we happen to be the people with the best set of skills for this work. Trust me, we are not. But the reason we can be disciples like Mary Magdalen – the reason we can stand and we can weep and we can listen is because finally we, like Mary are bearers of resurrection. We know that on the 3rd day he rose again. We do not need to be afraid. Because to sing to God amidst all of this is to defiantly proclaim like Mary Magdalen did to the apostles, that death is simply not the final word. To defiantly say that a light shines in the darkness and the darkness can not will not shall not overcome it. And so, evil be damned, because even as we go to the grave, still we make our song Alleluia. Alleluia. Alleluia.

Amen.
The idea of thinking about the Cross as (Deity) facing the horrors of the world, showing up, knowing that this is not the end of the story, persisting in and through the darkness.

In some ways I worry that this is retrojecting the Resurrection onto the Cross (I don't think my theology is that the Resurrection was already contained in the Cross), but Nadia's sermon reminds me about showing up in the darkness. At interfaith discussion last night, Jane(?) talked about having faith ... not necessarily that things would turn out "well" but being at a point where "good" and "bad" don't matter in a way (I didn't think of this language at the time, but I think relaxing into that it Just Is).

And as as I mentioned, at Rest and re/New this week, we heard an excerpt from Living Buddha, Living Christ in which Thich Nhat Hanh talks about the Eucharist using language of "the body of God" (instead of the "Body of Christ" language I'm more familiar with) and talking about the cosmos.

(The fancy crosses still creep me out, though. The Cross is not a fancy decoration.)
hermionesviolin: (moon house)
Expandjoy sadhana - Saturday )

***

Another FCS week of our opening hymn being a song I already know which Thom W. takes a long time to teach us. This time it was "What does the Lord require of you?" -- which, okay, we did as a round, in a slightly different way than I'm used to doing it as a round.
I forget until later that CWM sings "Love" for "Lord" (I tend to make substitutions that match the number of syllables) so after experimenting with "y/our God," I eventually sang "Hashem."

Molly had said:
I'll be preaching, the second in a mild-mannered sermon series I like to call Summer Reading, because, guess what, I like to read in the summer. I'm preaching on the runaway bestseller among young adult fiction, The Hunger Games, and on a very strange, disturbing and illuminating story from Chapters 6 and 7 of the book of 2 Kings (read it!).
I did indeed read the story on oremus and didn't really follow what was going on. I wondered if she was gonna opt for The Message. What she actually did was to tell the story as if she were just telling the story, rather than reading it (the bulletin said "2 Kings, Chapters 6-7, excerpts"), and I could definitely follow the story this time -- including being able to map pieces on to pieces I recalled from my oremus reading.

The post-sermon hymn was "Taste and See," and I wished that we did Communion.

I was in line at Coffee Hour and India came up to me and hugged me (usually I find her and hug her). She asked, "Have you tried the cake?" and I said No (because I was still in line and so hadn't sampled any of the food) and then said, "Wait, which cake? Because some of the cake is leftover from my birthday party last night."

Rooftop People in fact happened. Redheaded-Diane, whose first time at FCS was today (she recently moved to the area) came, too. Yay, people who jump right in.

Jeff B. and I made plans to see Brave (in 3D -- I'd never seen movies in 3D, and had no real desire to, but that was the showing that worked best in our schedules) on Tuesday.

I was starting to feel fade-y at like 4pm -- which is when I needed to leave to get to CWM because I'd agreed to help set up since Pr. Lisa is out of town. Grate. I set up and ran worship fine, though -- I wasn't expecting to have to run worship, so my extemp was subpar, but it was just me and Tara so it didn't matter too much.

***

Expandjoy sadhana - Sunday )
hermionesviolin: an image of 2 people hugging, in the background is a yellow wall that says "Beloved Community" at the top (only it's cropped so you only see "loved Community") (love one another as i have loved you)
Kathy M's memorial service was today. Because of who Kathy was, there was a lot more music than is standard (there were 3 choir anthems and 3 hymns the congregation sang).

The opening anthem was "The Deer's Cry" by Shaun Davey (based on St. Patrick's Breastplate -- the song which opens, "I arise today..."). I think I was crying by the end of that, and I definitely cried a lot during Molly's homily.

Crying, for me at least, feels like an emptying out, and I was thinking, early in the service, experiencing that feeling of being emptied, that it would be good to have Communion at the end of the service.

In part, I'm sure, because I'd seen this on Tumblr this morning:
awkwardbutaccurate: “foretaste of the feast to come” sounds really familiar, almost like it’s in the Eucharistic prayer. Anyone know?

[...]

galesofnovember: Google tells me it’s in the Lutheran Eucharistic liturgy. I think it’s in one of the rites in the BCP too, because I swear I’ve heard that phrase.
[My immediate response to "foretaste of the feast to come" was, "OF COURSE it's in the Eucharistic liturgy!" so when I saw gales' response I thought, "Oh, apparently I have absorbed my best friend's liturgy." I mean, I know it's not in the Communion liturgies my churches use, but...]

I would want it to be a real actual feast. Fine, it's a symbol, but a bite of bread dipped in juice (or wine) doesn't feel like a powerful symbol to me. I don't experience Communion as powerful magic, and that's in part just because of who I am, but also because I feel like there's "no there there" -- that if it's supposed to demonstrate Jesus' radical hospitality, and Jesus' enduring presence with us, and to model the Realm of God, then it should really be a feast.
Lord, what shall I do that I
can't quiet myself?
Here is the bread, and
here is the cup,
I can't quiet myself.
To enter the language of transformation!

-from Mary Oliver's "Coming to God: First Days"
The readings were:
"Sleeping in the Forest" - Mary Oliver
"Coming to God: First Days" - Mary Oliver
1 Corinthians 13:4-12


I knew Kathy was only 64 when she died, but I was still surprised, when I saw her daughters go up to the chancel to do the readings, how young they looked. They could be my age. Which, my parents are 53 and 61, so I suppose they probably are.

The closing hymn was "I'll Fly Away," which I have an active dislike for, but because I have heard so much about the grace with which Kathy approached death, I could tell myself that it meant something different in this context (even though while I was actually looking at the words I was aware I was stretching).

[Edit: During the Prayer time, Jeff M. acknowledged and opened up space for: the other griefs this brings to the surface (not limited to people who have died), the fact that Kathy could be difficult and inviting us to extend forgiveness to her, and if there was anything we felt like we wanted/needed forgiveness for (e.g., things we had done, things we hadn't done, ...) to allow ourselves to feel forgiveness from Kathy just like we had just extended forgiveness to her. This is the first funeral I've been to at FCS, so I don't know if this is standard here, but I really liked it.]

+

At the reception, I told Harold (who was wearing a suit) that I felt very undressed looking at him (I was wearing my black shirt with the glitter Phoenix on it, blue jeans, and my lace-up flats with stars on them). He did say he liked my shirt :)

During the reception, there was an open mic for anyone who wanted to share.

Her ex-husband spoke, and he said in keeping with the theme of the grace with which she dealt with her illness(es), she had reached out to him and told him she harbored no ill feelings about their breakup and that she was glad he was the father of her children. I cried.

I got up to get some juice and a guy got up and introduced himself as "Ron" and his voice sounded familiar before I saw his face and I realized it was [livejournal.com profile] ron_newman. He talked about having worked with Kathy on various Somerville things and I think I had already started crying, but where I clutched my heart was when he said he hadn't know that she was sick until he heard of her death last week, and so he wanted to come here to be able to say goodbye to Kathy because he hadn't been able to say goodbye to her before she died. While I know that people I know from church have lives outside of church, it hadn't really hit me that there would be people who would grieve her death but who wouldn't have been a part of her circles such that they would have found out about her illness before her death.

Jenny U got up and I started crying basically immediately because Jenny was her neighbor and was the connection that brought Kathy to FCS and I knew Jenny must be so sad -- and indeed Jenny was crying throughout her talking, and so I was doing the "crying because the other person is crying" thing the whole time.

A friend of Kathy's asked if anyone knew "Ezekiel Saw the Wheel" (which, sidebar, blessing of the bicycles!) and led a sing-along of that.

Betsy M (I think) led an impromptu "If I Had a Hammer," which song I don't really know but which I loved at the end.

***

"Joy Sadhana is a daily practice in the observation of joy."
-[livejournal.com profile] mylittleredgirl [more info]

Thus says God to these bones: "I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am God." (Ezekiel 37:5-6, NRSV, alt.)

ExpandRead more... )
hermionesviolin: text "a land flowing with milk and honey" (abundance)
Hey, remember when I said:
While the readings of the Last Supper story that accompany Communion are very powerful, the actual partaking of Communion is really not powerful for me. I think in part because the food is so insubstantial. I have long wished that we had pita bread or something evoking the unleavened Passover bread instead of regular white bread. (I really liked a few weeks ago at First Churches when we had bread the confirmation class had baked because that was bread to be chewed.) If there were a ritual sacrifice (by which i mean that i'm thinking of how strict Jewish law requires that animals be slaughtered a certain way, with all the blood drained, and the preparation be overseen by a rabbi) and i held flesh in my hands, particularly because i don't normally partake of meat (because of the pain/suffering/death involved), then that would be powerful to me. That would be a powerful reminder of the flesh suffering and sacrifice that Jesus underwent for me personally and for all of humanity. But Communion as is now, just doesn't do it for me. (I've also had Communion at Anglican Mass, and the foodstuffs there also totally didn't do it for me.)
See the second "A Cheaper World" (A Softer World meets Groupon) here.

Edit: I am LOVING the various food+drink folks have had for Communion (yes, I have the comments on StalkerPin). And yes, I already knew about the Catholic gluten wafer thing.
hermionesviolin: (dirty)
At lunch today, I mentioned that my Sunday morning church -- the one I usually think of/refer to as my generic mainline rainbow flag church -- had a Drag Gospel brunch this past Sunday. In explaining their mainline-ness, I mentioned T. asking me (in advance of visiting the church) how they were on kink/poly.

C. pointed out that there isn't really much in the Bible (esp. the New Testament) that could be construed as anti-kink. (Later I articulate my sense that most liberal Christian's negative stance on kink comes out of a general ethic of nonviolence, and not out of any particular Scriptural injunctions.)

Having recently read Borg and Crossan on Paul -- which book has a whole chapter on the letter to Philemon -- it occurred to me that, "There are lots of rules about how you are to treat your slave."

Which, yes, only apply if you're doing lifestyle.

***

Rest and re/New

Keith won't be here next Wednesday (proctoring a mid-term), so I may or may not be giving the Reflection (depending on the availability/willingness of the clergy he asked).

He said if there isn't a clergy presence, we shouldn't/won't/didn't have to have Communion. (The way service is structured right now, Communion is an option during the break-out time.) I said I would be in support of a Communion option (yes, I am totally this person who strongly supports church containing things she doesn't personally get anything out of). I was willing to preface it with, "These elements haven't been consecrated by an authorized person," but Keith remembered there was bread in the freezer, so he opted to pre-consecrate that. (I will probably still preface with a mention that the bread has been pre-consecrated by an authorized person.)

I went to the kitchen to be in community while he pre-consecrated the bread. I've never actually been present for a consecration outside of a service (since I got HEUMC-Scott's voicemail the one time that I was doing CWM sans consecrated bread), plus I wanted the consecration to be communal (since that's how it is in my churches, and if I were to believe in magic consecration, that's how I would believe the magic happened).

He did a brief rehearsal of, "On that last night, Jesus took bread..." After he finished, I said, "Those are the Words of Institution." Hey, if we are going to obey the letter... So then he said a bit asking God/the Holy Spirit to bless the bread -- which words included the word "magic."
hermionesviolin: text "This icon is INEFFABLE" with bubbles in the background (ineffable)
From one end of the liturgical spectrum:

In the Eastern Orthodox and Greek-Catholic Churches, the Paten is called a diskos and is elevated by a stand (or "foot") permanently attached underneath. The diskos is usually more ornate than its Latin-Rite counterpart, and must always be made of gold or at least be gold-plated. The diskos may be engraved with an icon of Jesus Christ, the Nativity of Christ, a cross, or more frequently, an icon of the Theotokos.

When a diskos is made, it is usually accompanied by a matching asterisk (small, folding metal stand used to keep the Aër from disturbing the particles on the diskos), a spoon (for distributing Holy Communion to the faithful), and a spear (used to cut the Lamb during the Liturgy of Preparation).

For Christians of the East the diskos symbolises the Virgin Mary, who received Christ into her womb, and gave him birth; and also the Tomb of Christ which received his body after the Crucifixion, and from which he resurrected.

To the other:


[So says Keith, anyway.  I declined to suggest that not having Communion would be the farthest low end of liturgical spectrum -- mostly because I didn't think of it until after the moment had passed.]
hermionesviolin: (all the beauty just keeps shaking me)
During sharing time at re/New last night, Lindsay said sometimes the Holy Spirit is pushing her in a direction and it's scary, and I almost cried.  Which is weird because I am that girl who is constantly pointing out that being called by God, saying yes to God, all that is scary and daunting stuff because God calls us out of our comfort zones and pushes us to do things we don't necessarily want to do -- so it's not like this is news to me at all.

Elizabeth F. said that someone recently had asked her what she was going to do with her life and when she told him he said, "That's God's work," and she said, "Yes it is," and she commented that sometimes she needs someone else to remind her that what she is doing is God's work.

Courtney shared something and I forget what it was, but after she had finished, the candle she had blown out continue to spiral smoke up into the air, so after the smoke stopped, I got up and said that what Courtney had said, combined with watching the smoke continuing to come from the candle even after it had been blown out, made me think of how the Holy Spirit is always present, even when we think it's gone away, even when we can't perceive it.

+

On my lunch hour today, I finished reading Theology Without Words and started Practicing Resurrection.

Beginning to read it I had the same feeling of almost wanting to cry.
It's beautiful and compelling.  And seductive -- it makes me want to have a strong Call to ordained ministry, even though I think that where I am right now is the right place for me right now.

I could talk about the moments of disconnect I have had with the book thus far, but instead I offer you this:
A few days later, I heard a story about a group of men who were in prison.  They were part of the more than ten thousand political prisoners in this particular country's particular jails.  It was Sunday and they wanted to celebrate communion but they had no wine, no bread, no cup, no priest.
    "We have no bread, not even water to use as wine," their leader said to them.  "But we will act as though we do."
    And so he began to lead them in the communion service from the Book of Common Prayer that he had memorized over many years of attending church.  When he got to the words of Jesus that are said during the Eucharistic prayer, he turned to the man standing next to him, held out his empty hands, and said, "This is my body, which is given for you."
    And so they went around the circle, one by one, each man turning to the next one, opening his palms, and saying, "This is my body, given for you."

(pp. 21-22)
I literally cried.

(Later on page 22, Gallagher writes: "The Eucharist is meant to call us out of our own capacity to be sacraments, one for the other.")

I was sitting on a bench in the closest thing the b-school has to a Quad.  I literally shut the book and just let myself cry.

That's near the end of Chapter 1, and as I started reading Chapter 2, I decided no.  I set my cell phone alarm for the end of my lunch hour (ten minutes) and sat and prayed.

re/New last night's theme was "holy spirit" and for the breakout session I was really torn between "make a pinwheel; if you like, draw or write a prayer to the spirit before folding" and Lindsay's teaching breath prayer.  Ultimately I chose the latter (I prayed "renewal" for myself and "guidance" for the community).

Praying outside today I focused on my breath, did the words of the breath prayer a little but mostly just focused on my breath -- thought about some of the images Gallagher had talked about in her first chapter, gave thanks for the beautiful breeze and then prayed some other thanksgivings, prayed some intercessory petitions, recurrently wondered if my alarm would fail to go off.  I sit in prayer for ~15 minutes almost every Wednesday, so I knew I could do 10 minutes, but I was still surprised at how quickly the alarm went off.

+

It's so easy for me to "work through my lunchbreak" -- to stick around for work-related potentialities, figuring it all comes out in the wash since I have so much downtime at my desk during which I'm doing my own stuff.  (I do purchase and eat lunch, I just often eat it at my desk.)

But I have learned that actually stepping away from my desk for a solid hour a day is good for me.

Laura Ruth once told me, "You are a wonderful friend to [so-and-so]! Boundaries help me be a wonderful friend to myself. I pray that is true for you, too"

In all the "saying goodbye" and "letting go," I'd forgotten that the first theme I articulated for 2010 as this year was developing was "boundaries."

I have realized recently that pausing to say grace is really good for me -- really pausing ... not just rushing through the words, but stopping to reflect as I pray them (so probably praying out loud, or at least mouthing the words, would be good), to actually pause before I start to eat.

For dinner tonight I made Trader Joe's mac&cheese and reheated some of the falafel from church.  And I sat down at the kitchen table to eat.  I almost always eat in front of my computer -- which is not a great idea for a number of reasons -- but tonight I made the conscious decision to sit down at the kitchen table to eat.  I brought Practicing Resurrection with me, but I actually spent much of the time just eating.

+

[Admittedly, I cry at nearly everything.  Later today I kept almost-crying while watching Cat Valente's acceptance speech for the Norton Award for Fairyland"The girl lost in the dark just trying to survive, and she turns to this very old, very odd, and very new, kind of magic to save her family and somehow it works, and she finds her way."]

***
ExpandMolly )
+

How much do I love that we, the Body of Christ, are Rocks and Redeemers? (per Molly's signoff on her email)

Seeing Molly at re/New last night (she sat sort of across from me in the circle) I had this deep desire to offer to step up to help with the work of First Church Somerville.  But that's not my place.  I will continue to be involved with the church as I have been, and that involvement may change but it will be an organic process, involving my gifts and abilities and the needs of the church.  (Burnout, I do not want.  I'm also not interested in trying to force a match where there's a mismatch.)
hermionesviolin: image of snow covered hill and trees with text "the snow with its whiteness" (snow)
When I got up this morning, I saw it had snowed, which was a pleasant surprise.  And I got to walk in the falling snow as I walked to work, both before and after the gym.  (Though it was sunny enough during the day -- and above freezing -- that most of it was gone by the time I left work.)

And bracketing the day, tonight I found a great pair of pajama pants I'd forgotten I had.

***
[FirstChurch Mailing List] Rest and Bread and then Deacons

Dear Beloved,

Molly and I went to the picket line yesterday, to ask the Hyatt Hotel to pay attention to the real live people they fired, back in August. Almost all of the workers we met yesterday were immigrants to our country, just as we all were. Two of the workers had worked for Hyatt over 20 years, Droopy and Lucy.

Our scripture tells us, instructs us that we are to care for the immigrants, for the widows and orphans. As a people we've been doing this for seven thousand years. Tonight at Rest and Bread, we will reflect on this practice, reflect on how this practice brings joy and makes us free.

Our service starts at 6:30. Music for meditation begins at 6:15.

Our Deacons meet at 7:30. [...] These are the folks who look out for the spiritual life of our congregation. Please, won't you say a prayer for them, and for us as we meet together for the first time tonight?

Love,
Laura Ruth
Setting up for service, I avoided getting hit by a door while carrying some of the Elements.  I said something about not getting Jesus hit by a door, and Laura Ruth said, "It's not Jesus yet," and I said that I don't believe in "making" it Jesus, and Laura Ruth said that she doesn't believe there's some magic that makes it Jesus but rather the assent of the community, and I said that I have such a low theology of Communion that for me it's more like, "Well I don't think it's every really Jesus, so..."

Service was just the three of us -- me, Laura Ruth, and Keith.

The Sacred Text was Psalm 146, Nan Merrill's version.

When Laura Ruth began her Reflection, Keith shifted his chair so he could look at her (he was sitting next to her) and she shifted her chair accordingly and then indicated that I should come join (I was sitting across the semi-circle from them) and so I came and sat on the (carpeted) floor, because I felt like it -- and stayed there until we all got up for the Passing of the Peace.

Laura Ruth talked about her experience yesterday, and talked about "the dance of justice" -- and invoked Jesus' Matthean "least of these."

During Prayers of the People, Laura Ruth gave thanks for me -- for my "sweet, deep spirit," and then some other stuff too.

When I did the Confession, I said, "those moments we have fallen short, have missed the mark -- those moments where have abstained from the dance of justice, or obstructed the dance of justice," and Laura Ruth smiled at me approvingly (yay thematic tie-ins).

During Communion, we all gathered around the table and did the service jointly.  Giving each other Communion, Laura Ruth gave Keith the Cup and said, "The cup of salvation," and then realized that wasn't the language we use and asked him for the correct words and he said, "The cup of the new covenant," and I said, "It is also the cup of salvation -- Jesus is a many-splendored thing," and so then when she gave me the Cup she said, "The cup of salvation."
hermionesviolin: black background with red animated typing the "blood and rhetoric" bit from R&G Are Dead -- ending "Blood is compulsory. They're all blood, you see." (blood)
Lorraine and Heidi asked me about my/CWM's discomfort with atonement theology. My best friend and my mother sent me emails with follow-up thoughts. I've been thinking about this a lot. (And in looking back at that comment thread, this post still doesn't respond to a lot of what Heidi and Lorraine asked.)

I think it is True that Christ allowed Christself to be executed, that Christ shed blood and tears, that Christ was willing to suffer all this for the disciples who didn't understand and for all humanity. I think this willing sacrifice is really powerful. What I'm really uncomfortable with is the idea (which I think is perpetuated in a lot of the ways that the story is told) that God REQUIRED this sacrifice in order to reconcile Creation to Godself. What does it say that the spilling of innocent blood is necessary to bridge that gap between Creator and Creation?

***

I recently came across a blogpost titled "Vampires & crosses." An excerpt:
Vampire stories tell us, for example, than any of us can have great power if only we are willing to prey on others. Feed off the blood of others and great power will be yours. This is demonstrably true. It's how the pyramids were built. And Standard Oil.

The stories also tell us that there's a downside to this predatory choice. You become a creature of the night, unable to stand in the light of day.

And crosses will confound you.

Some mistakenly think that this is because the cross is a holy symbol, imbued with religious power. But this is wrong. The symbol, like the thing itself, is powerless. And that's the point. That is why vampires can't tolerate it.

Most vampires don't believe in the cross, but that hardly matters. It's the idea of the thing that gives them fits. The cross confronts vampires with their opposite -- with the rejection of power and its single-minded pursuit. It suggests that no one is to be treated as prey -- not even an enemy. The idea of the cross, in other words, suggests that vampires have it wrong, that they have it backwards, in fact, and that those others they regard as prey are actually, somehow, winning.

This notion is incomprehensible for vampires. The one thing they're certain of, the thing that drives them and tells them who they are and how the world works and that they've got it all figured out is that the key to immortality is in choosing to be the predator rather than the prey. The idea that this might be wrong is so befuddling, so contradictory to everything they have chosen to be that it forces them to recoil. They can't get past it.
This is somewhat reminiscent of the "when love comes to town" excerpt I posted on September 11th:
  • And that is precisely what [Renee] Girrard describes in his work regarding scapegoats: pinning all of our hatred and fear on the scapegoat always unifies a society - but only for a season - and then more violence is needed to bind people together. Further, societies rarely consider the consequences of scapegoating - history is never told from the perspective of our victims - so we rarely feel remorse or act in repentance.
  • Which is why the story and reality of Jesus is unique: for the first time, Girrard suggests, history is told from the perspective of the innocent scapegoat. For the first time we can see the horrible consequences of our violence. Indeed, what makes the passion of Christ so important in NOT the horrible violence a la Mel Gibson. That, sadly, is all to ordinary. No, what makes the passion life changing is the awareness that Christ died to expose this horrible sin and invite us - with God's grace - to stop it.
***

During Communion at Rest and Bread last night, Laura Ruth said, "This is my body, given for you," and "This is the cup of the new covenant, poured out for you." While this has even less "broken bodies save souls" than last week did, it leaves me screaming even more, "WHY DO WE DO THIS?" When I gave her my Convo 2007 DVDs after service, she said, "You sent me a long email, and I don't even know what it said, because I've been up past my eyeballs, but that will be over soon." I laughed and said okay.

I emailed Laura Ruth today (hyperlinks not in original):
You are still not obligated to read/respond to any of this -- just fyi.

I've been having conversations with various people about atonement theology and Communion, further figuring out what it is that I believe.

I really like using the traditional Words of Institution (or a close approximation thereto), and it sometimes makes me uncomfortable when we rewrite them so wholesale at CWM (though it feels organic and appropriate to CWM, so even when it does bother me, it bothers me less than it would in other contexts). But I want more. If all we say is, "This is my blood, the blood of the new covenant, poured out for many, for the forgiveness of sins," then I'm left saying, "So God requires innocent blood in order to forgive? And what is this new covenant anyway?"

I went to Sunday morning service at Somerville Community Baptist this past Sunday, and in their Communion liturgy they used the phrase, "Proclaim Christ's death until He comes again," and in thinking about it today, I thought, "But Jesus says "Remember ME," not "I'm going to die soon, and you should remember THAT." " (Okay, okay, when I actually Googled "Words of Institution," it's all "do this in remembrance of me," which sounds very much like a memorial... which just doesn't sit right with me, since WE ARE A RESURRECTION PEOPLE *cough* I have perhaps internalized Tiffany's Easter sermon ... anyway, the relevant chapter in Mark Allan Powell's book Loving Jesus has given me a lot to think about re: the idea of expectantly waiting for Christ's return, but I still incline more toward a focus on "Christ is with us now" than "Christ will come again" -- when we sing "Christ has died, Christ is ris'n..." that's CWM's alternative for the third phrase.)

In my various churches, I hear a lot of talk about coming to the Table to be nourished -- both spiritually and physically. I've never actually experienced this at Communion, because it's a bite of bread and a sip of juice/wine (not an actual meal) and the story doesn't tell me how it is that I am spiritually nourished/fed (or reconciled) through this experience -- I who grew up very low church Protestant where God is ALWAYS accessible to you. And I'm not asking for Communion to become a meaningful powerful experience for me. I have a Bible full of texts to wrestle with, and I live in a world full of grace and full of pain. (Earlier today I came across a quotation I'd forgotten -- "If the world was merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. That makes it hard to plan the day." –E.B. White) I have so so much.

But I so want church to be accessible to and meaningful for people, and I think, "What stories are we telling people? What stories are we embodying? How are we helping people to touch the face of God?" (Did I ever tell you that my best friend's pastor once said, "we go to church every week because we touch the face of God"?)

And so I think, What if after we recited the words from the Bible (the Words of Institution), we said, "And Jesus said: Whenever you do this, remember me. And so we do remember. We remember Jesus' ministry of sitting down at table and sharing a meal with the outcasts and the religious elite. We remember Jesus' body being broken by the authorities, and we remember the tomb being broken open. We remember the suffering and the resurrection. And in this meal, the fruits of the earth broken open for us, we remember and we are nourished for the journey that lies ahead."

Um, I'm not sure when I turned into someone who actually writes liturgy?

Love,
Elizabeth
hermionesviolin: (moon house)
I went and found Laura Ruth before service to confirm that I could move the long table out of the chapel and back into Fellowship Hall.

Laura Ruth said, "Were you here last week?  I feel like I haven't seen you in a month."

I talked about Convo some, and said of course the Bible Study wasn't going to be as awesome as last time 'cause last time we had Amy-Jill Levine.  Laura Ruth looked blank.  "New York Jew, specializing in New Testament Studies..."  Still nothing.  I said I had the DVDs from last Convo, so I would lend them to her :)
Dear Beloved,

Tonight at Rest and Bread, we are wrestling with the word "faith." Then we will practice our faith through the practice of prayer and in the act of communion. We will also praise God for Molly's return.

We pray you join us.
Psalm 73
Sacred Text: Matthew 17:14-21
I noticed that when he read the Scripture, Keith said "A person knelt..." though he also said "son."
In her Reflection, Laura Ruth referred to the parent as "father," though she mostly said "kid" for the child, and at the end of her reflection she referred to God as "Her."
She had 3 things that struck her from the Scripture passage:
1) Was Jesus doing health care for all?  (I thought, "health care for all who ask for it.")
2) The child was possessed and then dispossessed -- it is difficult to be ill, and it is difficult to be well.
3) The disciples didn't understand ... and she said she imagines the disciples doing big hands and "Shazam!" which irritated me because I don't think the disciples were quite such oblivious expletives, though I can visualize it better now that I've had some time to reflect on the whole reflection, specifically her closing thought that, "Faith is much harder to learn than moves."
The Good News is: we are all in the process of coming to know the Divine.
(I have come to be a really big fan of sermons/homilies/reflections/whatever that explicitly aim to bring Good News to the listeners.)

Opening Worship at Convo had the traditional Communion liturgy (right down to "bread and wine"), which of course made the CWMers I was with really uncomfortable, with the blood and the broken body and all.  I talked to Marla some later in the weekend, saying that I wonder how you reconcile the fact that such language and theology can be really painful for people with the fact that we have this inherited Scripture and tradition of what Jesus said.  She said that she doubts Jesus "really" said those words and that the community was articulating the message/memory of that night in a way that was meaningful for them, and that we are called to discern the meaning/message in what we have inherited and articulate in a way that is Good News to people now (for example, we say "kindom" instead of "kingdom" because we're not sure that a Davidic king would be Good News for people today, but we are sure that a world in which we are all family would be Good News).

Remembering Convo and the two very different Communion services we had at Opening and Closing worship, I listened attentively to the Communion liturgy at Rest and Bread tonight, to hear what it is that we actually say and what someone coming in new might hear.  (Because I have such a low theology of Communion, I often don't pay much attention to the words of the liturgy, because it's not a ritual that's meaningful to me.)  Breaking the bread, Laura Ruth said, "given in remembrance of me; every time you do this, remember me" (she was clearly not reading from the printed liturgy and not quite remembering exactly what it was she was supposed to be saying; I looked at the liturgy after service and it's just "This is my body, given for you") and then "my blood, the blood of the covenant, poured out for the forgiveness of sins."  I would really really like more explanation of what we believe and why beyond "broken bodies save souls."  (Yes, like masculine God language, I think blood atonement theology is moving from "I have no problem with this, but I know people who do," to "I actually have a problem with this.")  So that'll be an email tomorrow (because I am clearly not yet caught up on my sleep debt).

We serve Communion to each other and are instructed to say, "The Bread of Heaven."  I said, "Laura Ruth, this is the Bread of Life, that you might have life abundant."  She said, "I like that..." in this soft sort of impressed tone.  Yes, routinely worshiping at at least three different churches means I acquire a lot of liturgy :)

***

Sidebar: Apparently Thursday morning prayer is at 7am?  So we're back to it being something I could technically attend, though I don't think getting up an extra 20+ minutes early is going to happen.

***

Molly's back from sabbatical.  She asked me how my summer was.  Yeah, I don't have a succinct answer for that...
hermionesviolin: text "a land flowing with milk and honey" (abundance)
So, I'm listening to last Tuesday's World Religions lecture online 'cause I was so sleepy when I was sitting in class, and I keep auto-inclusivizing. Possibly relatedly, the prof is talking about John Dominic Crossan's idea of Jesus as "a peasant Jewish cynic whose main interest was in healing people and getting them to eat together" and the Gospel of Mark, and when he says Kingdom of Heaven it reminds me of how at Rest and Bread last week, when I served Laura Ruth I couldn't remember whether "Bread of Heaven" or "Bread of Life" was what we say at Rest and Bread. Any of you have preferences (or other thoughts)?

[Addendum, for my reference: unrelated Communion conversation]
hermionesviolin: Ainsley Hayes from the West Wing looking firm, with text "You don't think they hated me the first time around?" (Ainsley Hayes)
I got there about twenty minutes early (T-ing from Harvard right after work).  There was a table with supplies for namecards, only I didn't see any empty name cards, so I just plopped myself down in a pew while folks set up the worship space. 

Expandorder of worship, with commentary, including discussion of Communion )

***

At one point, I was telling Sue about how CAUMC-Eric thinks I should be a Phantom ChurchGoer and blog about it.  She mentioned Ship Of Fools, which once she mentioned it I realized I think I'd heard of before (she said she thinks it's run by Methodists, so that makes sense that I might have heard of it before).  It's a very specific questionnaire, so definitely different than Ari's 6-axis scale (liturgy, music, welcome, preaching, communion, GLBT-affirming).

***

This is the email I sent the following Tuesday: ExpandRead more... )
hermionesviolin: Ainsley Hayes from the West Wing looking firm, with text "You don't think they hated me the first time around?" (Ainsley Hayes)
Expandgym )

When I left my house this morning, I had my umbrella in my hand because I thought it was raining, but it was only misting.  Leaving the gym, though, I opted for the tunnels as it looked to be pouring out and I just didn't wanna bother with an umbrella and everything for such a short trip to my building.  "It looks like night outside," someone said.
Apparently it has been wet.  I went to Widener (in a spot between the rain, though I brought my umbrella just in case), and Baker Lawn had patches of thin pale mushrooms.

***

I went to The Crossing tonight.  I had a lot of moments of, "Oh, this was not what I was expecting," and, "Oh, you're progressive but not CWM," and "Church: ur doin it wrong," but I actually freaked out during Communion.  Ironically, over dinner afterward, when we were talking about this, Rev.Steph powerfully articulated what it means to her for the Elements to be Body and Blood -- the life of Jesus coursing through you, etc. -- and I said, "If you had said that during the service, I would have said, Communion: ur doing it right."  Beautifully, another parishioner who joined the conversation realized (and articulated) how he reacts differently to the Eucharist depending on what's said (yeah, they're emergent rooted in Episcopal but they often do extemporaneous Eucharist prayer, and with different people presiding week to week, even the available spectrum of eucharistic theology changes from week to week, as Chris phrased it) even though he grew up Catholic and doesn't consciously register what's being said.  I said, this is why I tell people "church: ur doin it wrong," because if something's is bothering me, it's probably bothering someone else and they're just not saying anything -- well that and because I'm a bitchy control freak.

Yes, I will post at length tomorrow about all the ways in which I think they do church wrong and what freaked me out about Communion.

For now, my conclusion is that I like Chris a lot.  I was touched by how grateful he was that I (1) came to The Crossing, (2) told them they were doing it wrong.  He hugs like he means it (like whoa).  And he calls me "sis."  ♥
hermionesviolin: black-and-white image of a church in the background, with sheep of different colors in the foreground, text at the top "Religion is a Queer Thing" and text at the bottom "Cambridge Welcoming Ministries" (religion is a queer thing)
I went to bed at like 9:30 last night, woke up at like 6:30 this morning (yeah 9 hours of sleep!), woke up again (and got up) a couple minutes before my 8:00 alarm.

Dreams included going through a series of tunnels (Star Trek reboot movie -- which I haven't actually seen -- mixed with Cold War era) and the last security door we had to go through our IDs didn't work and an official was examining mine and I got fed up and said, "IT'S FROM NASA."  My companion was like, "Why the rush?" and I said I was getting tired of waiting.  My interpretation of this when I woke up was something positive related to taking charge -- though on reflection it could also be something about me being an impatient control freak.  But so many of my dreams involve me running (or trying to and failing), so I feel like this was probably a good thing.

I got ready for the day (black sneakers, blue jeans, brown button-down shirt, Ask. Tell. dogtag, rainbow star earrings, CWM "Religion Is A Queer Thing" button on my black backpack) and headed out to Annual Conference.  #101 bus to Sullivan, Orange Line to North Station, bought double breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts and also a round trip to Beverly Fams (Zone 5).  I was gonna read on the commuter rail, but instead I totally fell asleep -- though I woke up at every stop, and the stop before mine I got up to be sure to not miss my own stop.  I had Beverly City Taxi in my phone from when Cate and I went to NSMT, but I was really feeling the fact that I had barely walked all day, so I took out the Google directions I had printed out and walked the ~2.5miles.  It was a nice walk.

I had skimmed the schedule, but didn't think to look closely or print it out, so I retained the "Registration at the Barrington Center" part and even looked at a map of Gordon College to have a basic sense of where I was going, but when I got to the Barrington Center it was empty.  It was nearly noon, so I figured I'd soon see floods of Methodists heading to lunch, but I was getting bored so I started to walk back through campus.  I saw a guy with a nametag and said, "New England Annual Conference of United Methodists, where is that?"  He replied, "Everywhere," but then said it was almost lunchtime and lunch was on the lawn in front of the chapel, "the tall white pointy building," and pointed me in the direction thereof.

As I walked up the steps of the chapel, I saw Barbara at the rainbow stoles table.  I'd been given one at Convo 2007, but it was a bit too flourescent for my taste, plus I just felt weird, so I didn't wear it (yes, I'm the only person in the CWM photo not wearing one), but here there were a multitude of options on this table, and one pattern reminded me of a facebook quiz my best friend took, so I bought one for me and one for her.  (If anyone wants one of their own, just let me know, since I know the folk storing the leftovers.  There were beautiful ones reminiscent of stained-glass windows, but since I am never going to wear one it seemed extra foolish to wear two.  Though I found myself really appreciating seeing all these people wearing stoles and knowing they were Reconciling, and I'm actually still wearing my stole.)  Expandrainbow stoles explanation )

I had lunch with the Reconciling folks (apparently you couldn't buy a lunch ticket, had to have pre-registered, so I was glad I had brought second breakfast and trail mix).  Someone said that 12 or 13 retired Reconciling clergy (I wasn't clear if this was just in the New England Annual Conference or nationally) have presided over same-sex marriages and holy unions -- because the Church can't do much to punish retired clergy, whereas it can punish those who are not yet retired.  Hi, I think this is awesome.  He also said they're gonna be making a public declaration of this fact, signing their names, as a show of support.

***

I had come today primarily because Tiffany had raved about Violet Fisher's preaching.  And really, coming for lunch + church service was probably a good plan (though next year maybe I will go for some of the discussion/voting).  The service lasted literally from ~2:00-4:50pm.  I knew almost all of the hymns, and I found myself really conscious of the language of submission and Lordship and blood atonement and so forth.

Scripture Readings:
Amos 8:10-12
Psalm 119:97-105
II Timothy 2:8-16

Bishop Violet Fisher preached on "Being the Word."  Her sermon was very much slanted toward the confirmands etc., which made sense [the booklet we got said on its cover, "Order of Worship for: Recognition of Local Pastors, Commissioning of Provisional Deacons & Elders, Ordination of Deacons and Elders, Reception Into Full Connection"] but which still felt a little weird to me.
    She said that there is a famine of the Word and we are called to be the Internet.  (Near the end of the sermon, she repeated that with lots of specific examples and after listing Facebook and MySpace, she had a slip of the tongue and said SpaceBook :) )
    She quoted Gandhi as saying the Bible "has enough dynamite in it to blow the whole of civilization to bits; to turn society upside down; to bring peace to this war-torn world.  But you read it as if it were just good literature, and nothing else."
    She exhorted us: "Don't get so wrapped up in church-work [e.g., what color a room should be painted] that you lose sight of the work of the church [saving people, healing people, loving people, blessing people]."
    Don't lose your joy -- "Dragging to the pulpit -- just as I am, without one plea," she deadpanned.
    She said, "Don't let the folk in the church wipe you out," and in part because I was sitting with CWM folk, I automatically heard that as a word of encouragement to queer folk (and anyone else the institutionalized church would be happy to not have to deal with ... though I know that in the context, what she had meant was in the sense of "worn out and worn down" rather than "eliminated").
    She exhorted us to be, said "our excitement is contagious ... that others will hunger and thirst for righteousness."
    She reminded us to "stay in the Word, find yourself in the Word."
    She said that people outside of the church ask, "What is the lifeline of that church?  Where is the transforming hope?"

It was really unclear when we were supposed to go up to get communed (P.S. It still irritates me that the official UMC Communion liturgy says "wine" when one of the defining characteristics of Methodists is that WE DON'T CONSUME ALCOHOL.) so eventually when we saw Will really near us, we just went and got communed.  Will said, "The Cup of the Holy Spirit, poured out for you."  Yes, I am glad the CWM balcony contingent were able to get non-traditionally communed.  [At LizL's ordination, the people communing me just said "The Body of Christ" and "The Blood of Christ," and I almost said "The Bread of life" and "The Cup of blessing" or something as a response instead of "Amen" because I was so thrown.  I am used to there being metaphors, both because straight-up blood atonement is uncomfortable and problematic and also to make it more meaningful and relevant and resonant.]

Tallessyn and Michele went down at the not-an-altar-call (apparently in the UMC, there's a whole Process for becoming a deacon, not just for becoming an ordained minister [edit] at CWM on Sunday, Sean reminded me that in the UMC, "deacon" is a position of ordained ministry -- though there's also "deaconess," which is a lay position and is what Michele is discerning a call toward [/edit]) and the congregation was singing "Here I Am, Lord," and I didn't go down to pray with them because I didn't really understand this unfamiliar-to-me process and didn't feel like I was in the right [soul/head/heart/something]space to pray with them, but I actually cried as I watched their family [for various definitions] gather around them, which surprised me.

***

Tallessyn drove me back to Beverly Farms T station because I didn't have quite enough time to walk back for a 5:36 departure, but then Carolyn called and said her friend Sarah had another seat in her bug, so I got a ride all the way to a block from my house.  She picked me up about 5:35 and I got home around 6:10.  Sweet!  (I wouldn't have gotten to North Station until 6:22, and then I still would have done Green Line to Park Street, Red Line to Davis, and walk home -- because I didn't have a #101 schedule but didn't think it would be running very frequently and I don't know the walk back from Sullivan.)

***

Sidebar: If you Google hrc + enda, this really thorough blogpost from October 4, 2007 is the first hit.  \o/  Someone was asking me what the trans community's complaint with the HRC is, and I wanted to confirm that I was recalling correctly.

***

"Joy Sadhana is a daily practice in the observation of joy."
-[livejournal.com profile] mylittleredgirl [more info]


"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come.  You wait and watch and work: you don't give up." --Anne Lamott

Good things about today:
  • It was not grossly humid out.
  • The abovementioned good things about Annual Conference.
  • During part of the service, Carolyn was scratching my back, and it felt really good.
  • Apparently Singspiration is happening for a 12th season, just on a reduced frequency.  (I worry about JoeF burning out, but it will be nice to see the gang.)
  • bff (2:34:58)
Things I did well today:
  • I did sufficient planning ahead (okay, much of that happened in previous days) and successfully got to Annual Conference.
  • I did some LJ commenting, and was thoughtful and attentive of others in various ways.
  • I appropriately set my alarm for tomorrow.
Things I am looking forward to (doing [better]) tomorrow:
["anything that you're looking forward to, that means you're facing tomorrow with joy, not trepidation," as Ari says]
  • 9am corporate prayer at SCBC
  • Kelsey and Kristy are leading worship at CHPC, and I'm lay reading.
  • hearing more about Annual Conference from CWM folks (oh, and I'm lay reading there, too)
hermionesviolin: (be brave now)
Before service, I told Keith that I felt like everything was off-center but I couldn't figure out why.
He said, "Clearly someone moved the pole." (As in, the support pole that's sort of in the middle of the room.)

Later, I asked why we only had one tall white candle on the altar (usually there are two). He said, "Two men will be in a field, and one will be taken and one left." I said, "Yes, clearly the other candle was Raptured."

***

Psalm 19 [I looked it up in the NIV to see if we really had read the whole thing -- sometimes we don't but it's not so marked -- and it's rather different than the version we read.] ExpandRead more... )

The Sacred Text reading was Esther 4.

"For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this." (NRSV)

Hee. I had totally invoked that (though I'd forgotten about the "you will perish" bit, which was irrelevant to the argument at hand anyway) at SCBC Adult Ed on Sunday. Owen had opened with talking about North Korea and how children are dying of malnutrition and asking the open question. David insisted that we should not trust our own wisdom (like we did with the choice to go into Iraq) but pray and etc., and I pushed back and said that yeah we should prayerfully discern, but that as Christians we are called to be a prophetic witness, to do God's work in the world.

Keith did the Reflection, and a number of things didn't quite resonate for me, but one thing he said was that closeting can lead to our private faith not having a claim on our public life.

We're back to reciting "God hear our prayer" after a prayer is vocalized, which I like far less than the sung "God have mercy"/"Thanks be to God."

I was noticing (not for the first time recently) how people open up and make themselves so vulnerable and I DON'T. I have litanies of prayer concerns for other people, which I will say aloud, and I will often lift up my prayers of celebration, but I don't ask for prayers for myself. I am so impressed by the bravery of people to open themselves up and make themselves vulnerable by vocalizing the places of pain and struggle in themselves. ("My challenge this week/what I'm working on this week" at CAUMC small group doesn't have quite the same resonance.) I do not do well with admitting weakness. (There's also the difficulty of articulating something succinctly but still in a way such that those listening will understand the appropriate backstory and resonances and emphases. But I think the bigger problem is that I don't do well with admitting weakness.)

During the Words of Institution & Prayer of Consecration, when Laura Ruth said the part about the Holy Spirit blessing us gathered here, my instinct was to (A) recite it along with her (B) say the Cambridge Welcoming Blessing -- "Pour out your Holy Spirit on us gathered here and on these gifts of bread and the fruit of the vine. Make them be for us the Bread of Life and the quenching Cup of Blessing, so that we may be the Body of Christ for the world, co-creating God's vision of peace and justice until all are reconciled and feast together at your table. Amen." [At Cambridge Welcoming, as the priesthood of all believers we the congregation are all invited to join in the blessing of the elements.]

I had read something that afternoon about Communion, the author taking Communion and really feeling and needing the tangiblity and food-ness of it, but in looking back through my GoogleReader later I couldn't find it. (I sort of had the visual memory that it was on EveTushnet.com, but that seems not to be true.)

Anyway, I tend to not really feel the resonance of being fed physically at Communion because even though my current churches do actual bread which you tear a piece off of, it's still only a mouthful and it feels more symbolic (representative) than anything. But I stayed a bit after service and had more of the bread (which I usually do, 'cause at 7pm I'm wanting dinner) and drank deeply of the chalice of grape juice a few times, resting one palm outspread on the Pentecost altar cloth (dark red and possibly silk? when Laura Ruth put it on I expressed pleasure at no having the makeshift one we'd had the past few weeks, and joked that apparently I do have some sense of aesthetics after all).
hermionesviolin: text "a land flowing with milk and honey" (abundance)
Because Laura Ruth is in Ontario, Keith asked me to help lead Rest and Bread. He had Molly help celebrate Communion ("do the pagan magic to make it Jesus," as I said). I feel like Molly's been to Rest and Bread before, but regardless, she wasn't aware of how we choreograph it, and we just rolled with it -- especially since there were only 2 other people besides the 3 of us. (I recalled Mark telling me after the "When All Are Welcome..." workshop, Joy was all, "But Elizabeth will be there" -- concerned about the possibility of the workshop not going as outlined in the agenda -- and he reassured her that I'd been at a CWM service where there were like 4 of us in a circle in the sanctuary and Tiffany was in a rocking chair.)

Psalm 146
Ruth 1:6-18

Keith mentioned that he and Gianna had used those opening lines of Ruth's hymn ("where you will lodge/rest, I will...") in their wedding.

He said that it has been said that the Book of Ruth is a story about loyalty (chesed -- I was thrown by hearing that definition of "chesed" and indeed, looking it up online, "lovingkindness" seems to be the prevalent definition -- heh, in searching Velveteen Rabbi, I found an essay on the Book of Ruth, for example -- though they're not unconnected).

He also talked about how sometimes we are called to strike out on our own.

Keith reminded us of the story of Jonah from last week and the message that God's love is not provincial or bounded by ethnic categories.

Keith outlined how the Book of Ruth continues, including Ruth marrying Boaz and bearing Obed, who fathers Jesse -- yeah, you see where this is going. He said that when we welcome the foreigner, we welcome the parent or grandparent of someone who will redeem our people.

***

Earlier that day, I'd seen this video on Tyler's facebook. (Jeremy has also posted about it.)

In it [beginning at 7:57], Dr. Jim Bankston tells of Peter Story saying that the phrase "to invite Jesus into your heart" is foreign to him (he's from South Africa) but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes it. He imagines Jesus responding, "I'll be glad to come -- can I bring my friends?" and we know from the New Testament who Jesus friends are (though I would quibble that just because he sat at table with all these people doesn't necessarily make them his "friends" per se, but I feel the point that Jesus was always reaching out to everyone still stands).
hermionesviolin: ((hidden) wisdom)
[I forgot to look up exactly where it was before leaving my house, so I took the Orange Line to Back Bay and then looked at a station map.  I had about twenty minutes, so esp. since I didn't have a printed map, I opted for walking up Boylston and then just turning left on Dalton.  I missed Dalton the first time, but when I hit Mass. Ave. I knew I had to have missed it, and as I walked back I saw the street sign.  Coming back, I easily walked directly back to Prudential and took the T home from there.]

I was unimpressed -- and was reminded that I am turning into something of a high church person (it's all relative, yo!).  In some ways my standards have been adjusted so low, though.  After Glide, I was so stoked that there were greeters who handed me a bulletin.

The bulletin doesn't actually have an Order of Worship, but it does include a Welcome, which mentions (among other things), "Offering: If you are a guest at REUNION don't feel obligated to give.  Offering is a time for those that consider REUNION their church home.  The giving of our tithes and offerings is a part of our worship and reflects a grateful heart for all God has given us."

The service opened with a live band doing a few praise songs which we stood and sang along to (the melodies were relatively easy to follow, but because the PowerPoint projection screen wasn't very high up, it was often a bit of a challenge for me to read the words).

Then we were invited to greet our neighbors, which I felt kind of awkward about.  I considered saying, "Peace be with you."  And no one around me seemed really extrovert welcoming friendly greeting me, which didn't help me push myself to actually say hi to these strangers when I had no model for what (if anything) I was supposed to say besides just hello and my name.

The there was the 40-minute sermon.

This week the sermon was on Sexuality and Marriage, and I took notes (duh), but I wasn't really moved by any of it.  Blah blah blah, Song of Songs, God is pro-sex (but only within the context of a marriage of one man and one woman!), and various other things I had heard in the first two sermons.

Then there was Communion, which was a pleasant surprise for me, except... The guy was all blah blah blah reconciliation and being made new and this can happen every week when we take Communion and the ushers will be at the front and back of the room and you can go up at your own pace, and you dip the bread into the juice, and the bread is a symbol of Christ's body and the juice is a symbol of Christ's blood shed on the cross for us.  I was so thrown that the not-really Words of Institution (or whatever you call that part of the liturgy) felt almost tacked on.  I was one of the first people to go up to get Communion, and I walked up to a person who was holding a metal tray with pre-torn pieces of bread and a metal chalice, and he didn't say anything.  I almost crossed myself, just to make it feel like an actual religious event.  They dimmed the lights, and the band played nice mellow music, so they did create space for it to be a spiritual experience, but it was still somewhat bizarre.

Then there were a couple more songs, a closing prayer, the offertory, and another closing prayer.

There's no Joys & Concerns.  The Welcome Card [I like that on the info side it includes checkboxes for "I'm a first time guest" / "I'm a second time guest" / "I come here often" / "I consider this 'my church' " ] has plenty of space on the back for Prayer Requests, and I think this was mentioned at the beginning, but it was somewhat weird to me to not have this made more a big deal out of, since I feel like that's an important part of being community, of being church.

There was no Coffee Hour.  There was a table with coffee and ice water, and that was it.  They have Community Groups that meet evenings during the week, but I kept feeling like, "How am I supposed to feel at home and in community here?"  Yes, I could have stuck around, but I felt a little weird because I still owed the pastor a reply email from Thursday, and yeah, I bailed rather than try to make conversation with strangers (which is not a strength of mine to begin with) who are clearly not exactly My People, when I feel not really equipped to make small talk with people I already know and like (though admittedly brand-new people I can talk about all the churches I hang out at and my job and never even need to get to what's currently going on in my life).
hermionesviolin: photo shoot image of Amber Benson (who played Tara on Buffy) seated with her chin resting in one of her hands, with animated text "sit and listen" (meditate)
It was pretty out this morning, snow covered.  It was more like rain when I walked to work (I didn't notice, except that my glasses were getting spotted and my hair falling wet in my face), and I wasn't a huge fan of the slush.  But my socks didn't get soggy enough for me to regret not having brought a pair of dry socks, and my hair managed to dry well, so win.

I didn't wanna go to the weight room, but I went, and did 25+ min.  Low weights, but I don't have shame about that since I've been away for a couple weeks and weight training has never been my forte.

Didn't facebook used to have an option to say that you knew someone from having met at an event?  I looked up a couple of the guys I met at MCC SF (can't find Chris, who was arguably my favorite) and am just putting in "MCC SF" in the "Other" option.

RED class canceled tonight due to weather.  (It was clear when I left work, but I respect Diane's choice to make an early call -- she emailed at like 7am -- and to err conservatively.)  Laurel went to LEM, so we met up around 8pm at Tealuxe.  When she first suggested this I regretted not having brought a book, but then I remembered that I can has bff phone call.

At Tealuxe, I tried the Vanilla Green Tea (was gonna try the Silver Needles White Tea, but they were out).  I'm not entirely certain I let it steep long enough, and I was like halfway through the 16oz drink before it was really cooled off enough to drink comfortably; oh well.  I also bought a Vegan Chocolate Banana Cranberry muffin at the counter on a whim (I had an apples-grapes-Brie crepe at Mr. Crepe for dinner, so I wasn't wicked full), which was v. tasty.

***

Rest and Bread ("Epiphany")

There's music and meditation starting at 6pm -- service starting at 6:15.  Tonight, the CD was of string versions of "Great is Thy Faithfulness" and a couple other hymns I couldn't quite place.  [Finlandia!  Snippets of the words were running through my head, but I could pin down enough of them to Google.  1:39am I remembered the tune.  Turns out I was misremembering pieces of the verse "My country's skies are bluer than the ocean, / And sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine. / But other lands have sunlight too and clover, / And skies are everywhere as blue as mine."]

Call to Worship
    [One] People of God, Jesus said, "I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."
    [People] We have seen the light of Christ like a star shining in the sky; and like the Magi, we have come to worship.
    [All] Glory be to God.

The "Psalm" was Isaiah 60:1-6.  Which first verse immediately felt familiar -- Messiah, I presume.  "Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of God has risen upon you."

The Sacred Text was the poem "how good it is to center down" from Meditation of the Heart by Howard Thurman.  The bit that struck me was (excerpt from the first Google result):
The questions persist: what are we doing with our lives? -
What are the motives that order our day?
What is the end in our doings?  Where are we trying to go?
Where do we put the emphasis and where are our values focused?
For what end do we make sacrifices?  Where is my treasure and what do I love most in life?
What do I hate most in life and to what am I true?
Over and over the questions beat in the waiting moment.
Keith did the Reflection, and he talked about Epiphany (at which first reference Laura Ruth looked at me and smiled, 'cause I'd given her an SF church report before service, and had lamented that Glide didn't do anything for Epiphany -- though I said I understood the rationale behind focusing a sermon on New Year's Resolutions -- and I said I'd also been knee-jerk reacting against an emphasis on January 1 in church settings ever since Ari pointed out this year that the Christian New Year begins at the beginning of Advent).  He talked about how Epiphany is about God manifesting Godself, and about how we find the story of the Magi (foreigners) in Matthew, which is a very Jewish gospel, written for a very Jewish audience (the idea of Christ being revealed to the "outsider" is I think my favorite Epiphany theme).  He connected this to the Thurman poem about centering and questions and the Isaiah text about light (in a way which reminded me some of the MCC SF sermon about finding the light within you that will guide you -- which sounds more secularly self-centered phrased that way than the sermon actually was) and it wasn't tied together neatly enough for me to have good notes, but I was impressed that he managed to tie it together enough for me to feel reasonably satisfied.

When I emailed Laura Ruth last week, I mentioned how afterwards Ari had commented about how there was a responsive that wasn't in the bulletin, and lo, in the bulletin this time:
    The Sharing of the Sacrament
    One: The Gifts of God for the People of God.
    All: Thanks be to God.

However, during the Words of Institution, Jesus said of both the Bread and the Cup, that they were a "symbol" and I winced, recalling Ari's experience at the MCC in Wichita [locked entry].  I brought this up to Laura Ruth after the service -- saying I was all pleased that she'd added that in to the bulletin and I was all prepared to tell her that and ask how Sunday went (she was preaching) and now I had to complain.  She said that ["that" = my complaining to her] was fine, and that there was a pastoral reason for the unorthodox liturgy.  I said I respected that and having raised my complaint would let it go.  I thought later of how Marla has said she can't take Communion anywhere besides CWM 'cause she can't handle the "sanctification of broken bodies," but I feel like Rest & Bread and CWM have similar Words of Institution.  [shrugs]

Laura Ruth's Blessing & Benediction said something about asking for God's help that we not fall asleep, which really struck me because I've been thinking recently about how to be with people when I'm helpless to do anything -- particularly how it's hard when I'm not physically proximal and thus can't physically hold them for comfort -- and how I'm so bad at praying (at that kind of focus) and this morning I think it was I literally thought of the Maundy Thursday Taize-ish "Stay here with me. Watch and pray."

After service, Laura Ruth thanked me again for having come early last week -- said that knowing how to help (and doing it) was truly being a "Christian citizen."

***

Speaking of not falling asleep... how many hours of post-Tealuxe gchatting was that?  [goes to bed]
hermionesviolin: (light in the darkness)
The First Congregational Church of Somerville

UCC service opened with us singing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" --  "O come thou Rod of Jesse" and "O come, thou Dayspring" verses (complete with refrain) and then the Lighting of the Peace Candle and then singing the refrain.

The Call to Worship was:
    One: God is good!
    All: All the time!
In my head I did the complementary "All the time" / "God is good"

I love Molly's really creative and interesting Welcomes.  I think she always opens with welcoming long-time members and visitors and yadda yadda.  Today the welcome included: "Christmas and Easter folks .... good pagans and bad Christians ... those of you who are eager for Christmas Future and those who are eager for Christmas to pass."

In the Invitation to Confession, Keith talked about the "We replace holy days with holidays" line and how we are replacing one good thing with another good thing and invited us to think about the valuable things standing in the way of other valuable things.

Unison Prayer of Confession
O God, we offer you our repentance.
We replace holy days with holidays.
We hurry past opportunities to give the gifts of kindness and honesty,
We do not prepare the place for your birth in our lives.
We do not listen to angels in our dreams,
forgive those dearest to us,
or welcome into hearts and homes the poor, the stranger.
Accept our humility and guide us to your grace.
    [Maren Tirabassi]

In the Assurance of Grace, he said: "God loves us ... whether we are ready or not, God is coming ... God may come humble as a shepherd or unforgettable as angels singing Hallelujah."

The Scripture Readings were Mark 1:1-3 ["Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight" - Isaiah] and Matthew 5:21-24 ["if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift"].

Sermon: "Room In the Inn: Relationships and Grudges"
I had some quibbles with pieces of the sermon, but I really liked Molly's idea about us needing to "make the paths straight," to clear away the disarray, so that the Lord can come.
She talked a lot about about reconciling relationships (and made sure to say that that does NOT mean taking more abuse) and said the one piece of advice she had was one some clergyperson(?) had once told her: "Don't try to do it all on the first visit" and then said (echoing the story she had opened her sermon with -- about newborns) "You know what to do -- a little patience, a little trust, a lot of will, laughter if you can manage it."

Offertory Response [Tune: MENDELSSOHN]
Hail the Bearer of God's peace!  Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life our Savior brings, ris'n with radiant, healing wings.
Mildly laying glory by, born that we may no more may die,
Born to raise us all from earth, born to give us second birth.
Ever in our hearts to dwell, come, O come Emmanuel!

From the bulletin:
Sharing the Elements
Our table is open to all who, in faith, wish to share in the sacraments.  At First Church we hold with the Congregational tradition of taking communion in two elements, bread and grape juice (as a sign of support for our brothers and sisters who are in recovery from alcoholism).  You are invited to come forward in either aisle.  When you receive the bread you may dip it into the cup of juice, and eat it immediately.  If you would prefer not to receive communion at this time, you may cross you arms over your chest and receive a blessing.

And the Sung Response was "Ubi caritas et amor," which meant I could sing it while walking around the sanctuary, unlike sometimes at CWM when I don't know enough of the words.

During Coffee Hour, various people I know from Rest and Bread said how nice it was to see me on a Sunday morning (not in a guliting or pressuring way at all).  I said to Keith and Ian that I was here through Advent because they're doing "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," and "We can renegotiate after Epiphany."  One of them joked that we could do that hymn every week to keep me attending :)

When I left, I told Laura Ruth how I'd been joking about how I'm here through Advent and "We can renegotiate after Epiphany."  She said, "You're free to do what you need to do.  We know that about you."

I felt really good about and engaged in so much of the service that I am actually seriously considering staying come the new year, because I just don't feel nourished and energized and engaged in that way at CHPC most of the time.

[Am I being too demanding to want the worship leaders to vocalize something like "And now we will all join in singing hymn number such-and such, {title}" though it's in the bulletin and the organist does a full verse intro before we sing?]

***

Cambridge Welcoming Ministries

The Opening Hymn at CWM was "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" (all verses).  Yay!

The Scripture readings were Isaiah 40:1-9 and Genesis 1:1-13.

The Special Music was the song Trelawney wrote last November using Isaiah 40.  It opens "Comfort, o comfort, my people..." and I really like it.  She played piano and sang and also singing were her twin sister Tallessyn, their half-sister Trevanna, Tallessyn's husband Dan, and Trelawney's husband Eric.  The music was so energetic and like just the right notes to feel like, I dunno, a blanket or a hug or something... it was really filling and comforting and inspiring -- like really good church music is supposed to be I imagine.

I didn't Pass the Peace to Trelawney, because she was at the back with baby Endelyn (and while the chapel is a lovely space, the single center aisle makes Passing of the Peace cumbersome), but during Prayers of the People Eric mentioned that they suspect she has post-partum depression, so after I took communion I walked back up a side aisle all the way up to the back where she was sitting with Endelyn and hugged her until Eric and Michele came to serve her communion.

During dinner, Susan-from-Danvers was talking about how at CWM the whole community participates in the blessing of the elements at communion and how Annie Britton's Extraordinary Ordination [see Church Within a Church] has been questioned, in terms of whether she's allowed to preside over sacraments, because CWAC is a "movement" rather than a "denomination," so they [edited to clarify: "they" = the United Methodist Church] don't recognize her ordination.  Later I asked Tiffany about the rules for presiding over communion 'cause I'd been thrown when Laura Ruth, so used had I gotten to CWM's literal "priesthood of all believers."  She talked about the ecumenical document the BEM [Baptist, Eucharist, and Ministry], explaining that when ecumenicism made a resurgence, you ran into sticky issues of, you want to have church together, but you have different theologies...  She said that Methodist rules are that an elder has to be present (though the elder can bless the bread in advance -- which then gets you into discussions about how long the blessing "lasts") but she said that in Methodism that's not about "hocus pocus" (her term) but about order -- a safeguard against bad theology... and that personally she trusts that this community has a strong understanding of communion and she doesn't need to worry about that when she does away on vacation.  (She also said that in Latin America, they don't believe in the priest blessing the bread in advance, so in places where there is no priest they developed a radical laity system because you have to have eucharist to have a church service and if there are no priests...) [edit: the "they" in this Latin America scenario are the Catholic laity, and I imagine that the Catholic hierarchy would disapprove]

I somehow got talking about going to class right after Rest and Bread and how I'm not going to take any classes next semester because I just don't have enough time and how much work Recruiting is and how I'm going to San Francisco in January for work and she said I should go to Glide United Methodist.  She said Karen Oliveto's there (I remember her preaching at CWM once) and that it was this dying church and Cecil Williams came and said they were going to minister to the people outside in the community (the Tenderloin District!) and now it's this huge vibrant church that does work with homelessness and addictions and the congregation is multi-racial/multi-ethnic and you have people who come in off the streets and you have rich people who fly great distances to come to the worship services because they're like rockstar.  I was reading the website and omg, it's a radically lefty MEGACHURCH.  "Glide Celebrations take place every Sunday at 9:00 AM and 11:00 AM. Celebrations usually last from an hour-and-fifteen-minutes to an hour-and-a-half. [...]  The sanctuary fills up every Celebration, and so we recommend that you arrive at least 30 minutes early to ensure seating. Additional overflow seating is available in Freedom Hall with a live video feed."  I was assuming I would go to Sarah and Kevin's church when I was in SF, but I have GOT to check this out.  And OMG, it's like one and a half city blocks from our fancypants hotel.  I still don't know quite how much I'm gonna be obligated to be at the hotel working, but I think I should be able to make it.

Talking with Tiffany, I was actually feeling like maybe I should join this church, because when I'm not thinking about all the specific details of this church and its broader denomination and what the implications are of explicitly identifying myself with that in a more solid sense than I already do... this feels so much like "my church home."
hermionesviolin: (self)
Expandgym )

***

Monday, Laura Ruth emailed the UCC clergy, cc-ing me and Keith, saying in part "I will be in Israel on two Wednesdays in Oct - the 22nd and 29th. Please would you celebrate communion? There is a fixed liturgy that you'd need to read. Keith [redacted] and Elizabeth [redacted] will set up, and they and others will clean up. Keith can lead the service."
    So when she saw me helping to set up before service today she thanked me (as always -- and she's always so really genuinely grateful, which always kinda throws me) and then said, "Did you like how I volunteered you to help?"  I laughed and said yeah of course it was fine -- said that my initial reaction was kind of "Hey!" but that I know being volunteered for stuff is kind of how churches work.
    I asked if it's really UCC policy that you have to be ordained to do communion.  I said 'cause after my "Way to volunteer me" reaction, I was like, "What, I can't do communion?"  'Cause at Cambridge Welcoming we take the "priesthood of all believers" seriously and anyone can do communion.  The first time Tiffany asked me to lay read, she asked if I would also be willing to help with communion -- which has a responsive liturgy.  I was like, "Uh, okay..." 'cause I have a very low theology of communion, so to me it primarily functions as a marker of being in communion with that community I'm with, which I don't always feel -- which I've mostly gotten over and now I just take it, value of going through the motions and church as social and yadda yadda, but I have totally argued (discussed) with more than one pastor about communion.
    Anyway, she said that the it's up to the congregation and that it was one of the first things she asked when she started here, and they said they wanted a clergyperson to do it, and she asked if that would be true of this midweek service as well, and they said yes.

Later, either Laura Ruth or Keith said we needed to go get the communion elements.  I joked that I really did have a low theology of communion 'cause I'd been looking around thinking, "Is there anything else we still need to do for setting up?" and the lack of communion elements on the table didn't even register.

Rest and Bread ("Light")

In the Welcome, Laura Ruth said, "Some of have spent all day working, and some of us have spent all day worrying."

Psalm 4

I was particularly struck by:
4. When  you are disturbed, do not sin;
ponder it on your beds, and be silent.
7. You have put gladness in my heart
more than when their grain and wine abound.

Sacred Text: Matthew (salt of the earth, light of the world)

Keith did the Reflection and pointed out that Jesus was saying to the poor, the marginalized, the oppressed: YOU are the light of the world.  Not all the big-shots.
    He quoted from John Winthrop's "City Upon a Hill" (of course!).  When he said, "wee must be willing to abridge our selves of our superfluities, for the supply of others necessities," I thought of Wesley ("Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can.").  I enjoyed "wee must delight in eache other."  Also "rejoyce together, mourne together, labour, and suffer together."  And if we do all this, "the Lord will be our God and delight to dwell among us."

Laura Ruth (and Keith) do the Invitation, Words of Institution, and Prayer of Consecration, but then we pass the bread to each other, saying, "This is the bread of (new) life."  Jennifer got all wide-eyed that she had to give it to Laura Ruth (when you're at the end of the semi-circle, you give it to the presiding person who started).  She said, "This is the cup -- I mean, this is the bread of life.  This is not a cup of the new covenant."  I said, "It's all a big metaphor anyway, so it doesn't really matter."  Laura Ruth turned to me and looked mock-scandalized.  I put my hand to my mouth and said, "Oh, was I not supposed to say that out loud?"

***

via itsabigrock: http://www.csmonitor.com/patchworknation/
Gee, big shocker I have always lived in "Monied 'Burbs."  ("Campus and Careers" is Franklin County, not Hampshire County -- even though the latter contains Amherst, South Hadley, and Northampton.)

No post-class discussion tonight so as to allow people (like the prof) to watch the debate.  Laurel and I were like, "Yeah, we still won't get home in time to watch it."  [Class gets out at 9:35, and you still have to walk from the div school to Harvard T and then we still have to take the T home.]

People were watching it in the lounge, so while I waited for Laurel to go to the bathroom I saw part of the "Talk about your opponent's running mate" bit.  Obama opened with saying that Palin was a capable politician.  SNAP!  He also said that he was in agreement about special needs being an important issue and yadda yadda, and that advocates agree that you need increased funding for that, and how can you accomplish that with a spending freeze?

On our way to Harvard T, Laurel and I talked about class and then she talked about her undergrad and her current lack of career direction and thus and such and we ended up getting to talking about religion.  She describes herself as spiritual but not religious, which I always forget about.  I think of her as . . .  "anti-religious" is overly harsh, but it's the closest term I can come up with.  But she's not only personally seeking, she's actually rather ecumenical.  She's not Christian (nor did she grow up Christian), but she does Wednesday night dinner with the Lutheran-Episcopals [MIT?] (except not this semester 'cause of this class).  Heart!  10:25 we finally pulled ourselves apart.

Profile

hermionesviolin: an image of Alyson Hannigan (who plays Willow Rosenberg) with animated text "you think you know / what you are / what's to come / you haven't even / BEGUN" (Default)
Elizabeth (the delinquent, ecumenical)

June 2025

S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22 232425262728
29 30     

Style Credit

Page generated Jul. 31st, 2025 02:50 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios