Thursday, March 01, 2007

William Stringfellow, Racism, and the Primates' Communique

This is a paper I wrote for a special reading course I'm doing with three other students and John Kater. I've been thinking about the goings-on in the Anglican Communion and the Episcopal Church, and wondering how to express my response coherently. This paper has been my clearest answer.

What is obedience to the gospel? Where are the churches in the struggle for justice? What are we to do when confronted by questions of human rights? What did Jesus do? Free in Obedience wrestles us through these questions.

The churches, writes Stringfellow, simply do not get it. He begins with an indictment of the churches, for being too much like their urban environments. The city, he writes, “is the frontier for the Church in American society.” (18) We have become so urbanized, that it must be so. Nearly half the population (in 1964) lived in cities. (19) Even rural dwellers are affected by urban culture.

But the cities are “profoundly decadent;” (20) even more, they are “places of death.” (31) Mission in the city, for the churches, means “a radical intimacy with every corner and every echelon of the city’s actual life.” (22) Witnessed by a governor seeking opinions on proposed legislation, who wrote a former bishop several years dead, the churches have been “hiding out.” (21) The churches do not know the cities well enough even to begin to serve the people within them. They have “abandoned” the gospel. (27)

Furthermore, the churches have celebrated false triumph. Fixated on Palm Sunday (31-47 passim), they ignore the true triumph of Easter. (34) God builds the “City of Salvation” (32); we are not even aware of it. In out attempt to avoid the sufferings of the cross, we yearn for the political triumph of Palm Sunday. (35) Christ gave his life for the saving of the world. We are called to do the same. This is true freedom. Our personal resources: money, time, training, class status, and everything else we have, are “sacraments of the gifts of [our] own lives.” (39) We are called to witness to Christ’s power in the world, first by being present. The most important thing is “the announcement of God’s love, and the freedom which that love gives people to love each other.” (42)

Stringfellow follows with a long discussion of principalities and powers. He defines them thus: “What the Bible calls ‘principalities and powers’ are called in contemporary language ‘ideologies,’ ‘institutions’, and ‘images.’” (52) They are not intrinsically evil; they are “living realities… made by God for [God’s] own pleasure," given to the dominion of humankind. They can be celebrity personae, institutions such as corporations, schools, or churches, or ideologies such as communism, humanism, or democracy. Money is a principality; so is religion. (53-59) Each makes a claim on human loyalty; all conflict and compete with each other. (60) When they fall short of God’s intention, they become demonic. (62) We, in our fallenness, idolize the principalities; this is Stringfellow’s description of filling the “God-shaped hole” in our hearts. The search, of course, is futile. (63) Principalities, be they wealth, possessions, or social status, are “powers of death.” (64)

Reading Stringfellow’s exposition of the principality of racism, I was struck deeply by the parallels to the recent Primates’ Communique. Writing in 1963, Stringfellow states, “To no principality—unless it be to those of commerce and finance…have the American churches been more notoriously and scandalously and complacently accommodating than to the principality of racism.” (77) Congregations which practice or support segregation, Stringfellow contends, “[fail] to treat conscientiously the meaning of baptism as the sacrament of the unity of all people in Christ.” They also “represent a surrender to the principality of racism,” (78) in effect choosing human prejudice and blindness over law, Church, and God. All this while remaining, on the face of it, nice people. (78-79) Stringfellow traces history back to the 1930s, looking for clear, coherent, prophetic statements against racism from the churches. He finds, in his words, “empty promises.” (79) By their silence, he indicts them as “handmaidens of the principality of racism, for… racism is as well served by appeasement as by idolatry.” (79)

In the face of revolt, in the 1960s, white people took notice. Clergy began demonstrating; “church budgets were loosened” to support the civil rights movement. (80) People started asking, “What do the Negroes want?”, not realizing the condescension evident in that question. White people were still motivated not by compassion, but by the desire to maintain control. (80) The churches, Stringfellow maintains, are “deeply and terribly… compromised in many instances and places to the principalities which rule American society….” (81)

Reading the Primates’ Communique, the Schedule of Recommendations set forth by the primates to enforce this, and Bishop Katharine’s call for a “season of fasting,” it appears to me that the church remains so compromised, both locally and globally.

The primates object to the precedent set in the Episcopal Church by ordaining an openly gay bishop. They object to the possibility of blessed civil unions. They hold up the non-binding Resolution 1:10 of the Windsor Report as the Anglican “standard of teaching.” (Communique, paragraph 11). That would be tolerable; we can’t expect to be of one mind with every other culture in the world that has an Anglican element. They overstep when they attempt to enforce their views. By attempting to enforce the moratoriums set forth in the Windsor Report (Communique, note 6) they not only try to legislate homophobia, but they become in polity what this body has never been. The Communique contains a veiled threat to the participation of the Episcopal Church (“On Clarifying the Response to Windsor”); the Schedule of Recommendations states that the proposed schemes are “intended to have force.” (Schedule, “Foundations”) They give the Episcopal Church a deadline which is irrespective of our polity. And they do this with the apparent support of our Presiding Bishop. While pointing out the parallel between this current issue and the history of slavery, she claims, “God’s justice is tempered with mercy.” She states that “a season of fasting” is asked of both parties—the Episcopal Church from recognizing the full humanity of GLBT people, and the conservatives at home and abroad from breaching diocesan boundaries.

I understand Bishop Katharine’s position, as well as a layperson can—she wants to stay in this conversation, and is willing to make concessions to do so. My visceral response is less sympathetic. How can people be asked to fast from justice? How can someone fast, who has never had enough food, simply because they love someone of the same gender? We promise to “respect the dignity of every human being.” How are these statements evidence of anything but the contrary?

I am tempted to believe that William Stringfellow would agree with me. He reminds us of Christ’s clash with the principalities of his time. He “stills the tempest, heals the sick, frees the demoniac, upsets the traditions of Israel by eating with sinners….” (71) He does not flinch even from physical death, and he is victor over all. “His victory is not for himself, but for us. This power [over death] is effective in the times and places in the daily lives of [people] when they are so gravely and relentlessly assailed by the claims of principalities for an idolatry which, in spite of all disguises, really surrenders to death as the reigning presence of the world.” (72) We need not be anxious, for in, through, and because of Christ, we too will live. (73)

We are called to be involved, to be present, to live the Gospel, and to choose justice. Neither we nor the Church need fear; we are “born into freedom from death.” (102) Perhaps the strongest statement of this book follows: “Whenever you regard another human being as less than yourself, you convict yourself of killing him.” (112) We belong to God. Obedience means not seeking our own preservation, but celebrating God’s involvement in the world, and joining in.

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Ask, and ye shall receive...

I’m still wound up tighter than an eight-day watch, but I’m feeling better. I’m still talking fast—my telltale “I’m anxious” sign—but I feel calmer inside. The thing I was so afraid of is working itself out in a way that I think could be really amazing. And I’ve had a few good conversations about all of it.

Breathe. All shall be well.

I talked with my priest today, about new ways to be involved in my parish. He asked me to coordinate the younger-adults group. I said yes. I asked him if I could teach an adult ed class; I’m taking “Postmodern Christian Education” right now and need a project anyway. He was really enthusiastic—and now I’m going to lead a four-week series, during Easter season.

Eep! I'm up for it--but I've never done that before.

All this amid papers, reading, and my middler review (another eep). Back to work! Thank you all for your prayers; they are truly helpful.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Prayer request, again

I want something more than I have words for—which is part of the problem—and I’m terrified of not being good enough. That fear isn’t new to me, but this time it’s affecting my health. I hadn’t had a non-environmental asthma attack in years; I got one this morning, about an hour after I woke up. I did what I always do, medically, which generally works. I’ve been feeling sick all day.

My friends are fantastic; I’m in really good hands, and I’m getting better at asking for what I need. But I’m usually strong when I need to be. I’m feeling really dependent right now, and that’s uncomfortable.

Pray with me that I can hold my ball of nerves, and let it go.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Lent Begins

Here it is, Ash Wednesday morning, and I still don’t know what my discipline will be. There’s a lot that I need to work on: more regular prayer/silence time, better organization, less playing around on the internet, less self-doubt.

I think a good beginning would be getting up and going to Morning Prayer. Today, and all through Lent. I attend Eucharist almost daily; Evening Prayer sometimes. I never get up early in the morning. I’d have such a better start if I did.

There. I will do that. And I will work on the other topics. If I pray with them, they will change.

May your Lenten observances be fruitful.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

This

...gave me a laugh!

Click on the title of this post; you will see my friend Max's take on a photograph from the event in Lodi last weekend.

The pic, from the San Francisco Chronicle, is unintentionally funny. The commentary by Max is priceless. :-)

Monday, February 12, 2007

Pray for me this week, please.

I'm meeting with my parish vocations committee this Thursday for the first time. I feel as ready as I possibly could feel right now--which is to say, totally and totally not--and I'm mostly trying not to be too anxious. Please keep me in your prayers.

I can breathe as deeply as I can, and speak as clearly as I can--and I know I have no control over this process. I just need to do it, and I do know it's time.

Honestly, I'm as excited as I'm nervous. I'm just trying not to let my nerves take over. I'm going to carve out extra prayer time this week, and just sit with everything.

I attended, and helped bake treats for, the celebration of the Episcopal Church in Lodi this past weekend. It was a really wonderful event. I will post about it sometime tomorrow; I took a three-hour nap this afternoon, woke up in the middle of dinner, and have to catch up on my homework.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

CDSP Mission Trip to New Orleans

Click on the title of this post, and see what I did tonight instead of the homework I was supposed to do.

A group of us are planning a mission trip for Spring Break. Care to join, or otherwise support us?

Thank you!

Monday, January 29, 2007

Bonnie Anderson to visit St. John's Episcopal Church in Lodi, CA

Bonnie Anderson, President of the House of Deputies in the Episcopal Church, will visit St. John's on Saturday, February 10. She will preach at Holy Eucharist at 11 a.m. Lunch will follow, provided free for all attendees. The afternoon session will begin with a presentation by Anderson entitled “I Will, With God’s Help: Our Mission and Ministry in the World.” A panel discussion will follow. The event will end at 4 p.m.

The theme for the event is “Celebrating and Proclaiming the Gracious Love of Jesus Christ in and through the Episcopal Church."

The parish address is 1055 S. Lower Sacramento Road, Lodi, CA. If you live within the Diocese of San Joaquin, please contact St. John's to register. The phone number is 209-369-3381; you may also e-mail the church.

If you live outside of the Central Valley and you wish to attend, please call the parish a day or two in advance, to confirm available space.

A press release with full details can be found here.

Monday, January 15, 2007

I Have a Dream



Almighty God, by the hand of Moses your servant you led your people out of slavery, and made them free at last: Grant that your Church, following the example of your prophet Martin Luther King, may resist oppression in the name of your love, and may secure for all your children the blessed liberty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Monday, January 08, 2007

Keep on, strong heart.

Yesterday, I rescued a bag of old cassette tapes from the floor of my car. On the way to a counseling appointment this afternoon, I pulled out one of them. I listened to this song obsessively ten years ago, and it touches me again. I’m doing serious soul work just now on my own needs and boundaries, and also taking a week-long class on preventing boundary (i.e., sexual) violations in the church. I give this to everyone who needs strength for their own struggle.

“Keep On Strong Heart,” by Libby Roderick. (Turtle Island Records, copyright 1993.)

I know you’re tired, I know you’re weary
I know you want to give up some days
Some days are so hard, some days are too lonely
But I love you so, and there’s no other way.

So keep on, strong heart, don’t fail me now,
We must keep going a little bit longer
Keep on, strong heart, I know somehow
That you will be there when the great new day dawns.

You have been toiling what seems like forever
Sometimes you feel you’re right where you began
Your mind starts to ache, your body, it trembles
It’s only your heart that tells you, you can.

So keep on, strong heart, don’t fail me now,
We must keep going a little bit longer
Keep on, strong heart, I know somehow
That you will be there when the great new day dawns.

And the fight will go on, we’re talking about freedom
We can, so we must, and we must, so we dare.
If your body gives way, I will carry you homeward
When that new day dawns, my love, you will be there.

So keep on, strong heart, don’t fail me now,
We must keep going a little bit longer
Keep on, strong heart, I know somehow
That you will be there when the great new day dawns.

And if you need courage, I’m right here beside you
If I need strength, I will look in your eyes.

And the fight will go on, we’re talking about freedom
We can, so we must, and we must, so we dare.
If your body gives way, I will carry you homeward
When that new day dawns, my love, you will be there.

So keep on, strong heart, don’t fail me now,
We must keep going a little bit longer
Keep on, strong heart, I know somehow
We will be there when the great new day dawns.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Happy New Year!

I don’t really do resolutions; it’s too easy to break them and get depressed about it. I hope to stay whole-heartedly on the path I’m on, and if God has any relevance whatsoever, I can hardly help but do that.

I was talking with my friend and classmate Debbie at a New Year’s potluck last night. Speaking about herself, she said, “When you get serious about spiritual life, God gets serious too. Things get brought up that need healing.” I nearly choked, in knowing exasperation. Both of us knew that I know what that’s about. Normally, I go along with life pretty happily most of the time. When something bumps or bruises me, I’m fragile and thoughtful until I can find my balance, and learn whatever I need to. I had a lot of fun this Christmas—but I also was, and am, really struggling. I think I’m on the cusp of scrapping through it—but it will take some more work. The holiday sharpened the usual aches; I forget every year that this will happen. It also awakened a pain that I didn't know I had. Time, work, and love will heal it; I know this, but I also don't know it. I've always gotten stronger on the other side of "growing experiences," but it's hard to trust that I will.

The neatest thing about Christmas was something I could not have predicted. My friend Jeanne from St. Aidan’s auctioned off a Christmas vest, as a fundraiser for the afterschool program housed at our church. It was all done silently by e-mail. I bid $5 and didn’t win.

However, the winner—anonymously—gave it to me. Apparently I had expressed more enthusiasm than I knew. I found out when I served at Christmas Eve, that it had all been announced at our Advent IV service that morning. I served again yesterday, and wore it around at coffee hour. I’ve had a lot of fun with it. (I’m momentarily in Berkeley, and my camera’s in Stockton. I can add a picture tomorrow.)

I also caught up with the vocations chair yesterday. They’re meeting in a couple weeks to discuss discernment models that would fit the parish, the diocese, and people in situations like mine. (I’ve been a member for less than the usually requisite time.) I don’t know yet what will happen. He said that they meet every couple of months, and will invite me after this upcoming meeting. So by that reckoning, I will start real honest-to-goodness discernment work... on or around the Ides of March.

Yes, that is a wry grin on my face.

Here, as seen on Possible Water, is 2006 in a paragraph of nonsense. Take the first sentence from the first post of each month of the past year, paste them together, and see what you get:

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. I got tagged. I must be in now! Thank you, Dixie Blue; I haven't been here in ages. I posted this on a discussion board I visit, and thought I'd repeat it here. What are you proud of yourself for? Since I came back from Spring Break (a week ago Monday), I've been feeling like each of my limbs is caught in its own separate riptide. I've been generally restless with my blog for awhile. What I've accomplished today: Got out of bed, fed myself breakfast and lunch, and brought in four boxes from the car. I'm supposed to be writing a sermon... and I'm stuck. Yes, I’m still alive. The subject of an e-mail I haven’t answered yet reads, “Are you home?” Yes, you never hear from me anymore; you just read my homilies. I preached this morning at St. Aidan's. It’s been a busy week.

Yet another blogger who blogs about blogging; that’s me. Peace to all in the New Year!

Friday, December 29, 2006

Hmmm.

I hope everyone's having a good Christmas season. I'll post a real update later. Meanwhile, here's a quiz, ripped from Another Episcopalian Blog:

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern. You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.

Emergent/Postmodern


82%

Roman Catholic


75%

Neo orthodox


61%

Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan


61%

Classical Liberal


54%

Modern Liberal


46%

Charismatic/Pentecostal


43%

Reformed Evangelical


4%

Fundamentalist


0%

What's your theological worldview?
created with QuizFarm.com


Great, and probably accurate enough, except for the line about "older churches." I'm a thoroughly committed Episcopalian. I love liturgy too much not to be. Also, I don't know who the man in the picture is. Oh well.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Forgiveness

Remember the Christian Peacemaker Team workers who were kidnapped in Iraq in November 2005?

News comes from Sheila Provencher, a fellow CPT member and friend of theirs, that the men who kidnapped them have allegedly been apprehended and imprisoned in Iraq. Authorities have asked the three survivors to testify against their captors. James Loney, Norman Kember, and Harmeet Singh Sooden spoke at a press conference in London on December 8, and gave their response to that request.

Let these men be lights to the world, as winter approaches. If I ever were in a similar situation, I hope that I could respond with the same love, clarity, and living faith.

*****
We three, members of a Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) delegation to Iraq, were kidnapped on November 26, 2005 and held for 118 days before being freed by British and American forces on March 23, 2006. Our friend and colleague, Tom Fox, an American citizen and full-time member of the CPT team working in Baghdad at the time, was kidnapped with us and murdered on March 9, 2006. We are immensely sad that he is not sitting with us here today.

On behalf of our families and CPT, we thank you for attending this press conference today.

It was on this day a year ago that our captors threatened to execute us unless their demands were met. This ultimatum, unknown to us at the time, was a source of extreme distress for our families, friends and colleagues.

The deadline was extended by two days to December 10, which is International Human Rights Day. On this day, people all over the world will commemorate the adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights by the UN General Assembly in 1948 by speaking out for all those whose human dignity is being violated by torture, arbitrary imprisonment, poverty, racism, oppression or war.

We understand a number of men alleged to be our captors have been apprehended, charged with kidnapping, and are facing trial in the Central Criminal Court of Iraq. We have been asked by the police in our respective countries to testify in the trial. After much reflection upon our traditions, both Sikh and Christian, we are issuing this statement today.

We unconditionally forgive our captors for abducting and holding us. We have no desire to punish them. Punishment can never restore what was taken from us.

What our captors did was wrong. They caused us, our families and our friends great suffering. Yet, we bear no malice towards them and have no wish for retribution. Should those who have been charged with holding us hostage be brought to trial and convicted, we ask that they be granted all possible leniency. We categorically lay aside any rights we may have over them.

In our view, the catastrophic levels of violence and the lack of effective protection of human rights in Iraq is inextricably linked to the US-led invasion and occupation. As for many others, the actions of our kidnappers were part of a cycle of violence they themselves experienced. While this in no way justifies what the men charged with our kidnapping are alleged to have done, we feel this must be considered in any potential judgment.

Forgiveness is an essential part of Sikh, Christian and Muslim teaching. Guru Nanak Dev Ji, the first of the Sikh Gurus said, "'Forgiveness' is my mother..." and, "Where there is forgiveness, there is God." Jesus said, "For if you forgive those who sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you." And of Prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him) it is told that once, while preaching in the city of Ta'if, he was abused, stoned and driven out of the city. An angel appeared to him and offered to crush the city between the two surrounding mountains if he ordered him to do so, whereupon the Prophet(PBUH) said, "No. Maybe from them or their offspring will come good deeds."

Through the power of forgiveness, it is our hope that good deeds will come from the lives of our captors, and that we will all learn to reject the use of violence. We believe those who use violence against others are themselves harmed by the use of violence.

Kidnapping is a capital offence in Iraq and we understand that some of our captors could be sentenced to death. The death penalty is an irrevocable judgment. It erases all possibility that those who have harmed others, even seriously, can yet turn to good. We categorically oppose the death penalty.

By this commitment to forgiveness, we hope to plant a seed that one day will bear the fruits of healing and reconciliation for us, our captors, the peoples of Canada, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, the United States, and most of all, Iraq. We look forward to the day when the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is respected by all the world's people.

Harmeet Singh Sooden, Norman Kember, James Loney

Monday, December 11, 2006

It must be finals week...

Here's a Christmas meme, courtesy of Mimi.

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate?
Hot chocolate. I’m quite fond of Silk Nog, though I haven’t had any this year.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
I don’t have kids. When I was one, Santa wrapped presents.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
I like colored lights. Hate the flashing ones, though; they give me a headache.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No. We did when I was little, though. It wasn’t the real plant; it was a little elf-like thing in a sphere of plastic leaves.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
When I was a kid, sometime in December. Now I have Christmas at friends’ houses; sometimes I get to help decorate, sometimes I don’t. Last year, I went to Placerville with the Apostle in Exile to get a tree, and we decorated that weekend. I think it was the first weekend in December. This year, another friend already brought her a tree, and we'll decorate next weekend.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
My favorite tradition involves a potluck with friends in Olympia, so whatever’s there. I won’t be there this year; I’m staying in CA, and I’ll miss celebrating with them. (I’m doing the holidays this year both with the Apostle and at my own church, so it’ll be good.)

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child:
When I was 7, I got an indoor tent to play in, and a fluffy fake-fur rug. I crawled in there with books, paper, and markers, and was quite content.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I think I started putting things together when I recognized my grandmother’s handwriting on a present from the cats. I was something like 5.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Not usually. Now, waiting is half the fun.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
I don’t always get to—like now, I live in a grad student dorm. I’m going to the Apostle’s for Christmas, and we’re decorating this weekend. We’ll put up a new batch of white lights (her preference), and whatever ornaments survived last year’s sap-fest.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
Love it, and won’t see it again as long as I live in CA. I’ve only had one white Christmas, when I was 4. I don’t really remember it.

12. Can you ice skate?
Yes, though I’m wobbly at it. I’ve only been once; I always went roller-skating, as a kid.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
I don’t have one favorite. I’ve had a lot of good ones. Last year, friends gave me both a wood carving of Mary and the infant Jesus, and a Jesus action figure. It was the perfect combination of “getting” what I’m doing, and having fun with the idea. I know one thing that I’m getting this year, and I will love it.

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you?
Celebrating the Incarnation in a community of love.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
Probably fudge. The Apostle and I celebrate practically everything with truffles, though.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Midnight Mass. It's a big reason I'm staying south this Christmas; this is my favorite holiday, and I want to worship in my own parish.

17. What tops your tree?
Not mine, but I think a mutant angel tops the Apostle’s.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?
Both. I’m usually excited about the gifts I’m giving, and I often have no idea what I will get.

Aside: I love getting presents, but I wish our cultural Christmas weren’t so much about that. The quiet, expectant waiting in the dark of Advent thrills me. Honestly, what does retail madness have to do with the Incarnation of God on earth? My friends and I share the holiday with a few simple, well-chosen (or much needed) presents; it’s part of the celebration, but not so much that materialism dominates everything. It’s fun, and still allows us to enjoy everything else about the holiday.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
God On His Birthday, which I can’t find a recording of. Also: O Come, All Ye Faithful, Joy to the World, We Three Kings (okay, that’s Epiphany), Good King Wenceslas, and lots of other old, traditional songs. There's also a bluegrass "Star of Bethlehem" that cracks me up; I think it's Ralph Stanley.

20. Candy canes:
I’ll eat them, but I don’t seek them out.

21. Favorite Christmas movie?
I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.

22. What do you leave for Santa?
When I was a kid, milk and cookies.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Prophecy and discernment



It’s been a busy week. Above is a photograph I took of my bishop, Marc Andrus, on Thursday. I went with a friend from St. Aidan’s to a Eucharist in front of the Federal Building in San Francisco, in remembrance of all who have died in Iraq. About 200 of us processed down the hill from Grace Cathedral. My priest was there, as were a handful of other CDSP students, and my faculty advisor. It was very clearly a Christian service, with some nice interfaith touches. We sang, prayed, heard some of the Beautiful Names for God (read in English, not Arabic) and listened as names of the dead were read to us. Bishop Marc preached a five-minute sermon on the theme that no one dies apart from God. He celebrated the Eucharist, and quietly slipped toward the entrance of the Federal Building, where he and 12 others took part in a die-in. They were arrested for doing so. I am proud of my church, my bishop, and all those who were arrested with him. I don’t see it as a political statement; I see it as focusing awareness of the presence of God in a place that needs healing. I don’t want to be a bishop, but this is a piece of the kind of work I want to do.

I chose not to be arrested, because I’m still in school, don’t have a job, and am a little leery of law enforcement since I was caught in a pepper-spray incident at a protest in Olympia in March 2003. But they handled it really well, here; it was all done with order and respect. If I don’t have to fear for my lungs (I have asthma), I can think about sticking my neck out some.

I’m going to be sticking my neck out in other ways, which excites me tremendously. I met with my rector on Wednesday, and was sent along to the Vocations Committee at my parish. I haven’t gotten to speak with the coordinator yet, so I don’t know exactly what the next steps are. After we’ve spoken, I’ll share what I can; what this means is that I’m moving from being a member of my parish with clear intentions, to being actively and officially in the discernment process.

I feel so affirmed, and so deeply, completely ready. I could have initiated the conversation that led to this months ago, but was flirting back and forth with feeling ready to do it until now. The doubts I still harbor are about my calling, not about myself. (It’s incredibly liberating, just to realize that.) I’ve been through a lot and I’ve come through a lot; I know who God is and I think I know who I am. I want to test and push and experiment. I’m ready to be challenged by a community that will be discerning with me. I want that, even. I’m not afraid of the idea of people knowing who I am, anymore.

A friend affirmed this in the car, the other night, on our way to an Advent liturgy that a group of us is doing in the East Bay. She said, “You’ve done your time. You’re ready to do a different kind of time, now.” She also said she was glad our priest had talked me into realizing that. That wasn’t my take on our conversation; it felt like we were sort of chatting about how everything was going, and I asked the question, “Now what?” We both knew what my intentions were, but I did need to be the one to say them. And I did, and I could, and I’m here. I’m both grounded, and bouncing nearly out of my skin.

This means three important things:

1) I have a spiritual home that I’m safe and happy in;
2) I’m on the right road, and people besides myself can see it;
3) I’m really ready to be open to God, my community, and my own heart.

Alleluia, amen.