Funny story...I was thinking tonight about how I hate group projects because I'm formulating a class, and it reminded me of a project I had to do in college that typifies why I hate group projects, and it makes me laugh looking back on it.
So for some class in college I apparently wasn't there the day we signed up for groups and I got put in one to do a presentation on the religious political right. Now, I really had no idea what this was until I started researching it. (I think I was basically brought up to believe that parties don't matter, you vote your conscience on any issue, not a party line. So when I registered I called myself an independent.) Anyway, when I started learning what this political group stood for, I was outraged. But the others in my group were hardcore rel. pol. right supporters. We didn't meet as a group often enough to actually talk much about our opinions, though, so I didn't really understand that until we were presenting! I think I was supposed to present the rel. pol. right's view on abortion, and I went off about how I couldn't believe that people who called themselves Christians could be all about the sanctity of life regarding unborn babies, but once they were born it was alright to kill them in times of war just because our leader told us to. I also addressed how no one in the rel. pol. right was offering to take care of a bunch of unwanted babies.
Looking back it's really funny to me to think about how utterly surprising this piece of their presentation must have been to the others in my group! I wish I could transport myself back there to watch, knowing what I do now, to see their reactions and to hear my naive 17- or 18-yr-old self in my first exposure to these ideas as a "valid" belief system, this crazy combination of God and country.
(Sorry if I've offended anyone with this post, but if so you've probably been offended before if you've read any of my other posts! I'm not saying any other party or political group is much better...just the combination here of making political claims that are supposedly faith-based but line up solely with our country's agenda is really stymieing to me. I don't think this disclaimer helped much if you were offended...)
Friday, January 21, 2011
Monday, January 03, 2011
peace month 2011
This month is the second annual Peace Month in Northwest Yearly Meeting! I'm on the committee that puts it together. Whether you're part of NWYM or not, you're welcome to use the resources we created and compiled. Here's the website.This year we decided to make the theme "Our Stories of Peace." Last year we did sort of an overview of the peace testimony and talked about peace at various levels (personal, interpersonal, communal, national, international), and this year we wanted people to think about and share their stories, and to hear stories of historical Friends.
We created a Daily Reader, which is a devotional booklet people can use in their time with God each day. It has stories from people around the Yearly Meeting about how they came to the peace testimony and how they have been called and challenged to live out peace and justice in the world. If you want, you're welcome to download it at the aforementioned site.
I'm excited to hear how Peace Month goes this year! May God be in the conversations and controversies that this topic sparks.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
a mamma again...and "traveling with pomegranates"
First of all, happy new year, everyone!
For those of you who don't know already, we had another baby boy on Dec. 6! I've been a little preoccupied with him lately, and I'm really enjoying remembering how to be a parent of a newborn again. He's making it pretty easy for us, really (as far as newborns go). He sleeps pretty well and he's really laid-back most of the time. And, of course, he's one of the 2 cutest babies every born!
If you want to see pictures, go to our family blog.
Since Christmas I've been working on Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor's book, "Traveling with Pomegranates." I have about 2 pages left. Sue Monk Kidd has got to be one of my all-time favorite authors. This book she writes with her daughter, and it's truly a beautiful work of literature, chronicling Sue's transition to being an older woman and Ann's transition to being a full-fledged adult, as well as their relationship with each other and the Divine. I love Sue Monk Kidd's other works that are so rich with thoughtfulness, wisdom, and persistence in her faith. She is so inspiring, because when she doubted her faith because she couldn't find herself reflected as an "image of God" in the patriarchal form of "Christianity" in which she was raised, she kept seeking until she found God, a God who imaged herself to Sue in feminine forms with which she could connect and grow. I'm so grateful for women like this, and for her willingness to write about it with such transparency and depth.
It kind of makes me sad I don't have any girls to share this with, but I'm so grateful for my two boys, and the chance I have to raise two male feminists. =) I'm also incredibly grateful for my feminist husband. And for a God who shows up in the ways we need her to.
For those of you who don't know already, we had another baby boy on Dec. 6! I've been a little preoccupied with him lately, and I'm really enjoying remembering how to be a parent of a newborn again. He's making it pretty easy for us, really (as far as newborns go). He sleeps pretty well and he's really laid-back most of the time. And, of course, he's one of the 2 cutest babies every born!
If you want to see pictures, go to our family blog.
Since Christmas I've been working on Sue Monk Kidd & Ann Kidd Taylor's book, "Traveling with Pomegranates." I have about 2 pages left. Sue Monk Kidd has got to be one of my all-time favorite authors. This book she writes with her daughter, and it's truly a beautiful work of literature, chronicling Sue's transition to being an older woman and Ann's transition to being a full-fledged adult, as well as their relationship with each other and the Divine. I love Sue Monk Kidd's other works that are so rich with thoughtfulness, wisdom, and persistence in her faith. She is so inspiring, because when she doubted her faith because she couldn't find herself reflected as an "image of God" in the patriarchal form of "Christianity" in which she was raised, she kept seeking until she found God, a God who imaged herself to Sue in feminine forms with which she could connect and grow. I'm so grateful for women like this, and for her willingness to write about it with such transparency and depth.
It kind of makes me sad I don't have any girls to share this with, but I'm so grateful for my two boys, and the chance I have to raise two male feminists. =) I'm also incredibly grateful for my feminist husband. And for a God who shows up in the ways we need her to.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
worship reflection: grumbling vs. crying out to God
I'm a little bit behind in posting my worship reflections, because I was sick with a cold for almost two weeks, and then...I have no excuse. So this worship service was about a month ago. I didn't want to miss it, though, because I thought it was a really profound thing to think about.
We've been doing a series on the Exodus and the desert wandering of the Israelites, found in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. So this particular week, Paul gave a message entitled, "Oh, Stop Your Whining." We went through several passages of scripture where the Israelites grumbled and/or someone cried out to God (including Exodus 14:10-15, 15:22-25, 16:1-4, 17:1-6 and Numbers 11:1-20). Paul gave us a chance to "grumble" about something with our neighbor (he specified grumbling about something or someone not present in the room!), and times to reflect out loud what it feels like to grumble, and what we notice about the passages where grumbling occurs.
His main point was that there seems to be a difference between when people grumble, and when people cry out to God. I thought this was a really helpful and profound insight. It's easy to complain, but this is usually under our breath, or out of fear, or wanting things to just be how they were before (even if that was bad) because at least then we know what to expect.
Crying out to God, on the other hand, is a way of remembering God's faithfulness and asking God to be faithful today. Usually when Moses or the people cried out to God, they remembered what God had done for them and their ancestors in the past and the promises God had made to them. Then they asked where God was now, and why something difficult or unfair was happening to them. There are lots of psalms like this as well.
I think maybe the difference is our level of trust. When we trust God, we cry out to God--we know God can and does provide for us, even if in ways we don't understand. We remember how God has dealt with us in the past, and with others. We remember and trust that God is on the side of justice and love. When we grumble, on the other hand, we doubt God's faithfulness. We're afraid that things are going to get worse rather than better.
We also talked in worship about this being a question of control. We want to be in control, and grumbling somehow makes us feel more in control. We think we know better than God, and that "going back to Egypt," wherever our "Egypt" happens to be, would be better than going forward into God's "Promised Land." We want a particular thing to happen. When we cry out to God, we're willing to move forward with God into something new, something we don't understand and over which we have little control.
Paul also asked an excellent question of us: "How do we as a people learn to trust God and not be a grumbling community?" He suggested as a community we need to learn to re-frame things. He gave the example of putting photos in various frames (he's actually my father-in-law and taught my husband a lot about being a photographer...), and how if you have the right color mat or border it brings out different parts of the picture. It's the same picture, but the way you see it changes. A major way we can provide a new "frame" for situations in which we find ourselves is to practice gratefulness. We do this by intentionally noticing things in the "picture" that we might not have noticed otherwise, things that bring spontaneous joy. We also pay attention to the background: God's faithfulness in the past. When I do this I generally feel much more joyful and grateful.
A couple queries still remain:
Do we have places and times to remember our gratefulness for God's faithfulness?
And do we have places and times to honestly cry out to God as a community?
We've been doing a series on the Exodus and the desert wandering of the Israelites, found in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. So this particular week, Paul gave a message entitled, "Oh, Stop Your Whining." We went through several passages of scripture where the Israelites grumbled and/or someone cried out to God (including Exodus 14:10-15, 15:22-25, 16:1-4, 17:1-6 and Numbers 11:1-20). Paul gave us a chance to "grumble" about something with our neighbor (he specified grumbling about something or someone not present in the room!), and times to reflect out loud what it feels like to grumble, and what we notice about the passages where grumbling occurs.
His main point was that there seems to be a difference between when people grumble, and when people cry out to God. I thought this was a really helpful and profound insight. It's easy to complain, but this is usually under our breath, or out of fear, or wanting things to just be how they were before (even if that was bad) because at least then we know what to expect.
Crying out to God, on the other hand, is a way of remembering God's faithfulness and asking God to be faithful today. Usually when Moses or the people cried out to God, they remembered what God had done for them and their ancestors in the past and the promises God had made to them. Then they asked where God was now, and why something difficult or unfair was happening to them. There are lots of psalms like this as well.
I think maybe the difference is our level of trust. When we trust God, we cry out to God--we know God can and does provide for us, even if in ways we don't understand. We remember how God has dealt with us in the past, and with others. We remember and trust that God is on the side of justice and love. When we grumble, on the other hand, we doubt God's faithfulness. We're afraid that things are going to get worse rather than better.
We also talked in worship about this being a question of control. We want to be in control, and grumbling somehow makes us feel more in control. We think we know better than God, and that "going back to Egypt," wherever our "Egypt" happens to be, would be better than going forward into God's "Promised Land." We want a particular thing to happen. When we cry out to God, we're willing to move forward with God into something new, something we don't understand and over which we have little control.
Paul also asked an excellent question of us: "How do we as a people learn to trust God and not be a grumbling community?" He suggested as a community we need to learn to re-frame things. He gave the example of putting photos in various frames (he's actually my father-in-law and taught my husband a lot about being a photographer...), and how if you have the right color mat or border it brings out different parts of the picture. It's the same picture, but the way you see it changes. A major way we can provide a new "frame" for situations in which we find ourselves is to practice gratefulness. We do this by intentionally noticing things in the "picture" that we might not have noticed otherwise, things that bring spontaneous joy. We also pay attention to the background: God's faithfulness in the past. When I do this I generally feel much more joyful and grateful.
A couple queries still remain:
Do we have places and times to remember our gratefulness for God's faithfulness?
And do we have places and times to honestly cry out to God as a community?
more three-year-old wisdom
I've been thinking lately about the profound things that my son says and does, and the ways we as parents get to guide him, but also learn. It's pretty fun. I don't always think of these things as profound at the time. I need to reflect more so I don't miss anything!
This one wasn't so profound, but it was funny. Today E and I were playing with his barn and animals, and he said something about how the cow was eating meat. I said, "The cow IS meat!" He gave me a blank look. (Since I'm a vegetarian he's only recently been introduced to the world of meat.) I said, "That's what they make hamburgers out of." He then waxed eloquent for a minute about how it's sad that they kill cows who don't want to be made into hamburgers, and isn't it sad, Mama? I said, "Well, I guess so...I mean, I don't eat meat because I don't like to kill animals, and other reasons..." He said, "Well, God wants us to trust him that it's OK to eat meat" (he's only 3 and already calls God "him," although he didn't learn it from his daddy or me!), "so you should trust God."
The more profound thing is thinking about what it means to pray. My F/friend Aj wrote a post here about her kids praying, and it got me thinking about E and prayer. Over a year ago I posted on our family blog about when he first wanted to pray out loud. Since then he hasn't really shown much interest in prayer.
Usually at meals he doesn't want to hold our hands to pray, and he doesn't really want to participate. Yesterday at lunch he held hands with us, but then in the middle of the prayer he leaned down and started eating hands-free, licking peanuts off his plate.
One time when he was at my grandparents' place having lunch, my cousin happened to be there. Later my cousin told me, "E wouldn't pray with us, and he said, 'Mama doesn't make me pray!' I told him I seriously doubted that!" I said, "Well, I don't make him pray--I mean, I want him to be respectful when others are praying, but he doesn't have to pray." "Are you serious?" my cousin asked. "Yeah, well, if I force him to pray, it's not really praying, is it?"
One time he told me he doesn't want to pray until he's bigger and knows what to say. I try to reassure him that he doesn't have to have the right words, and he doesn't have to worry about what to say. He doesn't even have to say anything, he can pray in his head, or just think about God.
But E really wants us to pray with him at bedtime. Maybe it's similar to Aj's kids, who just want to prolong the time before they have to go to sleep--and sometimes that's definitely it, but who can resist a kid who's asking to pray with you? But even though he doesn't want to pray out loud, it's important to him. He asks every night for us to pray with him. The other night he wanted me to pray, and I asked if he'd pray for me, because we were both sick with colds. I told him he didn't have to pray out loud. So I prayed for him, and then asked if he'd pray for me. "I already did, Mama, while you were praying."
This one wasn't so profound, but it was funny. Today E and I were playing with his barn and animals, and he said something about how the cow was eating meat. I said, "The cow IS meat!" He gave me a blank look. (Since I'm a vegetarian he's only recently been introduced to the world of meat.) I said, "That's what they make hamburgers out of." He then waxed eloquent for a minute about how it's sad that they kill cows who don't want to be made into hamburgers, and isn't it sad, Mama? I said, "Well, I guess so...I mean, I don't eat meat because I don't like to kill animals, and other reasons..." He said, "Well, God wants us to trust him that it's OK to eat meat" (he's only 3 and already calls God "him," although he didn't learn it from his daddy or me!), "so you should trust God."
The more profound thing is thinking about what it means to pray. My F/friend Aj wrote a post here about her kids praying, and it got me thinking about E and prayer. Over a year ago I posted on our family blog about when he first wanted to pray out loud. Since then he hasn't really shown much interest in prayer.
Usually at meals he doesn't want to hold our hands to pray, and he doesn't really want to participate. Yesterday at lunch he held hands with us, but then in the middle of the prayer he leaned down and started eating hands-free, licking peanuts off his plate.
One time when he was at my grandparents' place having lunch, my cousin happened to be there. Later my cousin told me, "E wouldn't pray with us, and he said, 'Mama doesn't make me pray!' I told him I seriously doubted that!" I said, "Well, I don't make him pray--I mean, I want him to be respectful when others are praying, but he doesn't have to pray." "Are you serious?" my cousin asked. "Yeah, well, if I force him to pray, it's not really praying, is it?"
One time he told me he doesn't want to pray until he's bigger and knows what to say. I try to reassure him that he doesn't have to have the right words, and he doesn't have to worry about what to say. He doesn't even have to say anything, he can pray in his head, or just think about God.
But E really wants us to pray with him at bedtime. Maybe it's similar to Aj's kids, who just want to prolong the time before they have to go to sleep--and sometimes that's definitely it, but who can resist a kid who's asking to pray with you? But even though he doesn't want to pray out loud, it's important to him. He asks every night for us to pray with him. The other night he wanted me to pray, and I asked if he'd pray for me, because we were both sick with colds. I told him he didn't have to pray out loud. So I prayed for him, and then asked if he'd pray for me. "I already did, Mama, while you were praying."
Thursday, October 21, 2010
what do you like about your branch of friends?
I'm working on a project where I'm going to describe Quakers in the United States and around the world in the 20th century, so our various US branches (Evangelical Friends, Friends United Mtg, Friends General Conf, Conservative, and independent YMs) and what being a Friend is like in various contexts worldwide. I've met people from all these branches and been somewhat involved in several, but I thought I'd ask for opinions and thoughts from those who are more part of these than I am, or from a different area than I've experienced. So if you'd take a few minutes and just give me some thoughts and feedback, I'd really appreciate it! I think it will be fun to hear various perspectives, too.
If you're a Friend from somewhere other than the United States, I'd welcome your input as well!
Either write a comment, or if it's too long, write something on your own blog and put a link to it in the comments or send me something on Facebook or QuakerQuaker something.
Here are some questions you could answer for me:
1. Which branch of Friends do you worship with?
2. What are some of your favorite things about being part of that organization of Friends?
3. What is most important theologically for your branch of Friends?
4. What is most important to you about the manner of worship in your branch of Friends?
5. In what ways do you see your branch's beliefs and practices reflecting historic values of Friends?
6. What are some weaknesses of your branch of Friends?
7. What concerns do you think Friends should focus on as we continue through the twenty-first century?
If you're a Friend from somewhere other than the United States, I'd welcome your input as well!
Either write a comment, or if it's too long, write something on your own blog and put a link to it in the comments or send me something on Facebook or QuakerQuaker something.
Here are some questions you could answer for me:
1. Which branch of Friends do you worship with?
2. What are some of your favorite things about being part of that organization of Friends?
3. What is most important theologically for your branch of Friends?
4. What is most important to you about the manner of worship in your branch of Friends?
5. In what ways do you see your branch's beliefs and practices reflecting historic values of Friends?
6. What are some weaknesses of your branch of Friends?
7. What concerns do you think Friends should focus on as we continue through the twenty-first century?
Monday, October 18, 2010
response to brent bill's "a modest proposal: part 4"
I'm up way too late catching up on Brent Bill's excellent blog series "A Modest Proposal." So far I've read through part 4, and have really appreciated his thoughtful and insightful suggestions for revitalizing Quakerism in the US, no matter what our branch of Quakerism. I tried to comment on his post but ended up writing a blog entry because Blogger wouldn't let me post a comment that long! So go read his post, then read my response.
I'm from a programmed Yearly Meeting but I've attended unprogrammed meetings for years at a time at various points. I've also been to seminary, so done some major work in thinking about and learning how to program a worship "service." In some ways I like unprogrammed worship better, but there are also things about programmed worship--done well--that I appreciate.
I think if programmed worship is done well, it is planned in the presence of God. This means we listen to God as we're planning and preparing various elements. It also means we hold everything loosely during the worship time: if something doesn't feel right at the time, we're open and responsive to letting God change the plans mid-stream. I've seen this work in incredibly beautiful ways that give rise to worship experiences where people truly encounter God in creative or surprising ways. Also, even though various people have worked hard to plan elements like music or a sermon, they are willing to let go of their need to share that if it's not the right moment.
I like this because people--at least a few of them--actually prepare. I think it's so easy to just come sit in unprogrammed worship unprepared, to not really think about meeting or God or what one experienced last week...of course, as I'm writing this, I recognize that it's just as easy to sit in a pew and let someone talk at you for a while and not be prepared or think of it throughout the week, too. But the point is the preparation. If we truly prepare a service in the presence of God, if we're really listening and trying to seek out how God wants a particular hour or two to go, I think the experience can often be more powerful for people who don't connect as much with God in silence. I personally feel like it's a gift when someone prepares a sermon that is both well-researched as well as attentive to God's calling for that person and those listening. When we're listening in silence without preparing, the things we've studied can come to us and we can speak them, but most of us haven't generally done the work. Also, when we have programmed services that are done well, they often hit on multiple styles of intelligences, whereas unprogrammed worship tends to hit one or two personality types or learning styles. But when we prepare we can have tools on hand to engage people's senses or other ways of connecting with God, like bringing paint and a canvas, or planning some kind of body movement that expresses what we're hearing, or what have you.
I think participation is what is truly the key. Early Friends emphasized that everyone can hear God, that God can speak through anyone. Our programmed meeting has been experimenting lately with "sermons" that are much more interactive. The person giving the sermon (sometimes the released pastor, sometimes someone else) asks questions and genuinely wants to hear people's answers. (We do take a mic around for extensive answers, or repeat people's answers from the speaker's mic, so that everyone can hear! It works for us and isn't distracting to have someone walk the mic around usually--it ends up being a time of waiting and listening so that people can't talk so quickly after one another.) So the person bringing a message sets it up, maybe asks a good question or explains a biblical or contemporary story and invites prayerful, vocal response. Sometimes the response from the congregation is such that the person doesn't end up giving much of a sermon, but the fact that they've thought and prayed about the direction God wants to take the service that day, or the theme to help us focus, makes it possible for us to listen to God together in a way that only seldom happens (in my experience) in completely unprogrammed worship. When done well, the music or whatever else happens in worship is planned to fit around and point to this theme. When we have open worship (either before or after the "sermon"), usually there's a query or something to give permission and encouragement to reflect on the theme for the day in a deeper way, and a communal way.
I don't think we have this all figured out--some weeks go better than others. But I wouldn't throw out programming just because it can be too constricting--just like I wouldn't throw out silence because it can be an end in itself. We need both. Programmed Friends do a bunch of different kinds of elements, but we often get stuck in the same rhythms and don't listen for creative ways of engaging different kinds of people. We also have very strict rituals like not clapping in worship, which is good in some ways (we're not spectators), but also limits the freedom we have for praising God together.
Perhaps what we need to change more than our forms of worship is our own preparation, whether we're involved in programming the worship service or not.
I'm from a programmed Yearly Meeting but I've attended unprogrammed meetings for years at a time at various points. I've also been to seminary, so done some major work in thinking about and learning how to program a worship "service." In some ways I like unprogrammed worship better, but there are also things about programmed worship--done well--that I appreciate.
I think if programmed worship is done well, it is planned in the presence of God. This means we listen to God as we're planning and preparing various elements. It also means we hold everything loosely during the worship time: if something doesn't feel right at the time, we're open and responsive to letting God change the plans mid-stream. I've seen this work in incredibly beautiful ways that give rise to worship experiences where people truly encounter God in creative or surprising ways. Also, even though various people have worked hard to plan elements like music or a sermon, they are willing to let go of their need to share that if it's not the right moment.
I like this because people--at least a few of them--actually prepare. I think it's so easy to just come sit in unprogrammed worship unprepared, to not really think about meeting or God or what one experienced last week...of course, as I'm writing this, I recognize that it's just as easy to sit in a pew and let someone talk at you for a while and not be prepared or think of it throughout the week, too. But the point is the preparation. If we truly prepare a service in the presence of God, if we're really listening and trying to seek out how God wants a particular hour or two to go, I think the experience can often be more powerful for people who don't connect as much with God in silence. I personally feel like it's a gift when someone prepares a sermon that is both well-researched as well as attentive to God's calling for that person and those listening. When we're listening in silence without preparing, the things we've studied can come to us and we can speak them, but most of us haven't generally done the work. Also, when we have programmed services that are done well, they often hit on multiple styles of intelligences, whereas unprogrammed worship tends to hit one or two personality types or learning styles. But when we prepare we can have tools on hand to engage people's senses or other ways of connecting with God, like bringing paint and a canvas, or planning some kind of body movement that expresses what we're hearing, or what have you.
I think participation is what is truly the key. Early Friends emphasized that everyone can hear God, that God can speak through anyone. Our programmed meeting has been experimenting lately with "sermons" that are much more interactive. The person giving the sermon (sometimes the released pastor, sometimes someone else) asks questions and genuinely wants to hear people's answers. (We do take a mic around for extensive answers, or repeat people's answers from the speaker's mic, so that everyone can hear! It works for us and isn't distracting to have someone walk the mic around usually--it ends up being a time of waiting and listening so that people can't talk so quickly after one another.) So the person bringing a message sets it up, maybe asks a good question or explains a biblical or contemporary story and invites prayerful, vocal response. Sometimes the response from the congregation is such that the person doesn't end up giving much of a sermon, but the fact that they've thought and prayed about the direction God wants to take the service that day, or the theme to help us focus, makes it possible for us to listen to God together in a way that only seldom happens (in my experience) in completely unprogrammed worship. When done well, the music or whatever else happens in worship is planned to fit around and point to this theme. When we have open worship (either before or after the "sermon"), usually there's a query or something to give permission and encouragement to reflect on the theme for the day in a deeper way, and a communal way.
I don't think we have this all figured out--some weeks go better than others. But I wouldn't throw out programming just because it can be too constricting--just like I wouldn't throw out silence because it can be an end in itself. We need both. Programmed Friends do a bunch of different kinds of elements, but we often get stuck in the same rhythms and don't listen for creative ways of engaging different kinds of people. We also have very strict rituals like not clapping in worship, which is good in some ways (we're not spectators), but also limits the freedom we have for praising God together.
Perhaps what we need to change more than our forms of worship is our own preparation, whether we're involved in programming the worship service or not.
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