Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Holy is the Dark

Friends, This is the sermon I used in the competition on Saturday.

Psalm 42
1 As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. 2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? 3 My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 4 These things I remember, as I pour out my soul: how I went with the throng, and led them in procession to the house of God, with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving, a multitude keeping festival. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help 6 and my God. My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. 7 Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. 8 By day the Lord commands his steadfast love, and at night his song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life. 9 I say to God, my rock, "Why have you forgotten me? Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?" 10 As with a deadly wound in my body, my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me continually, "Where is your God?" 11 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.

Holy is the Dark
Why are we afraid of the night? What do we think is there that we cannot see? And why do we think we can see "it" in the light? For me it is in the darkness, when I am relieved of distractions that I can best see. Psalm 42 is a favorite of mine. It evokes the passion within me that I have for my Divine Beloved. It also affirms for me my need for darkness … for meditation in the night … for contemplation … for being wooed by my Divine Beloved.

Verse 3 says, "My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me continually, “Where is your God?" Have you ever longed so deeply and so completely that your tears were your food all day and all night? And while in this deep longing, have you been mocked? I have been in this place. I have lived in this place of deep longing, my thirst not being satisfied from the sustenance of my tears. My ears filled with voices saying things like, "Where is your God now? Accept that you're a queer and move on from religion." and "Just repent from being a lesbian and you'll be forgiven. Come back to the church." But I knew who I was – so I stayed in the chaos … in the torment of longing to be all of who I was. Especially at this time the night was my friend. Not because I was out carousing, but because the distractions were fewer.

Who here remembers the scene in Star Wars … it's a famous scene. Luke is approaching the Death Star and he activates the device that will help him see better. It's a computer that is programmed to help him know when to shoot. As he begins looking into it he hears the voice of Obi Wan, his teacher. "Use the Force, Luke. Reach out with your feelings." In other words, don't rely on what you think you can see. Those are distractions. Luke puts his computer away and everyone in charge gets upset. But Luke knows who he is … he is destined to be Jedi.

I knew who I was. I was a Christian and I was queer. It took a long time for me to get to that point and no one was going to talk me out of it again! I stayed in the chaos. At night, when the day's activities were over I would just feel. The numbness of the day slowly gave way to my internal truth … I was in pain and I was scared. There was comfort to me in that truth. The light served to distract me but it was in the dark where I found Holy Truth. It was in the dark where I found my Divine Beloved. The ache of my longing was with me all day long, and it made me act out in strange ways. But in the dark at night I could make my peace or fight it directly … whatever I had to do that night in that darkness.

Verses 7 and 8 – "Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me. By day the Lord commands her steadfast love, and at night her song is with me, a prayer to the God of my life."

At night, when the rumble dies down, I can hear the song of my Divine Beloved. This song becomes my prayer. It is the prayer that connects me with my Beloved, with the One from whom I feel estranged all day long. So much of scripture teaches us that the dark is a scary evil time. I know that I am challenging that. I'm challenging it because I found out it's not always true. What we hear in the dark may be the sound of our own souls singing … crying … reciting poetry.
What you hear in the dark may also be the very voice of your Divine Beloved singing to you … crying out to you …. reciting poetry to you. I think the bulk of scripture tends to make us afraid of the dark. Like little children we are afraid. But I believe that the dark is a holy time and a holy space. God is often depicted as being Light – all light all the time. That's one metaphor, sure. But that can't be our only metaphor. It's one sided. What would it be like for us, as we live on this Earth, to have light all the time? I think it would be terrible. When would we sleep? How would the plants and animals rest? There is no balance to all light all the time. We need the dark. The dark is Holy.

Psalm 63:5 – 7 say, "My soul is satisfied as with a rich feast, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips when I think of you on my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy." There is joy in the shadow of the Divine Beloved. Joy! In the shadow we can also find protection and relief. Consider the sun, blazing hot in the middle of August, or driving east in the morning or west in the evening. The shadows are welcome relief and protection from the burning and blinding rays. Psalm 63 has a similar passion to Psalm 42. Once again the psalmist is thirsting for the Divine Beloved. To quench that thirst the psalmist meditates on God at night on her bed. She is filled with joy from this meditation in the night!

Back in Psalm 42, the psalmist is encouraging herself. She cannot quite praise God yet, but she can make the statement that she will in the future. Twice the psalm says, "Hope in God; for I shall again praise God." This is not a psalm where we see the fulfillment of joy, but we do see the expectation. The soul of the psalmist is cast down, but at night she hears the song of her Divine Beloved and it becomes her prayer.

What is it about the dark that makes us tremble much of the time? Is it the sound of our own prayers? Could it be the song of God? Is it the power that is revealed after the noise and busyness of the day has quieted down? In verse 11 the psalmists asks her soul, "Why are you disquieted within me?" Could it be that in the quiet of the night we hear the disquiet of our own hearts? For myself, I have to answer yes to all these questions. When the night troubles me it is usually because I need to see something – and it is in the night that I can see it. The day is too blinding. I believe the dark is a gift to us from our Divine Beloved. In this time we can feel the power of The Holy draw close.

How can it be that the power of The Holy is in the dark? I need to go to Genesis, the first chapter, verses 1 – 5. "In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness was called Night. And there was evening and there was morning the first day."

What I hear in this passage is that God was dwelling in darkness. The Heavens and the Earth weren't really created until days two and three. Day one was all about light and dark. I would paraphrase it this way, "In the beginning before The Creator was creating, there was no heaven or earth. There was a formless void and darkness covered this deepness. There was also a wind of God which danced back and forth over the face of the waters. This was how God existed. God decided to create. "Let there be light", and there was, and it was good. The Creator defined what had been against what was created. What had been was named "Darkness" and what was created was named "Light". The Creator liked the creation of Light.

In this story, our Divine Beloved existed in a dark formless deep. The wind is the movement of God – the activity of God. Light is what was created, not what pre-existed. Yes, light is pronounced good, but as something created. It is the formless dark void which pre-existed. It is also the formless dark void which frightens many people. Order, light, and substance make us comfortable. They are tangible – quantifiable. But our Divine Beloved is neither tangible nor quantifiable in this story of creation. Pre-existence is formless and dark. The Holy lived in a void. I think this is why there is such power in the dark. The essence of The Holy, of our Divine Beloved, is this formless dark moving void. When we quiet ourselves in the night this power can be felt.

The psalmist says, "My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?" She talks about how she participated in the celebrations and festivals, leading the parades and shouting. But now she feels forgotten by God. She has enemies who are harming her. Where is the Divine Beloved for whom she danced and shouted and led the parades? In the holy darkness, where the Divine Beloved danced before light was created, the psalmist hears a song of hope that becomes her prayer.

We too can hear the song of our Divine Beloved. When the world quiets around us do we hear the disquiet in our hearts? Can we tolerate the uneasiness of our own disquiet? Can we hear the song of God and let it become our prayer? The power and holiness of the dark will guide us. In it we can find joy and hope. In it we can find our Divine Beloved.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Majora Carter of Sustainable South Bronx

Majora Carter of Sustainable South Bronx on environmental justice.
(Thanks RSS)


Sunday, April 20, 2008

On Being One

John 10 & John 17:11 – 26

Friends, each of us are here for different reasons. Most of us have been raised in one of the Christian traditions and consider Jesus to be the touchstone of our faith. I don’t think any of us attend these gatherings mindlessly. I have a sense that each of us here has examined ourselves in a way that possibly most people don’t. We’ve asked ourselves questions like; Who am I? What do I believe? Why Jesus? Why Christianity? This kind of intentionality around our faith is what I believe Jesus wanted to instill in his followers. There’s a level of commitment that Jesus had and that he wanted his followers to have that I would say your average Christian doesn’t have time for. Maybe I’m too cynical or critical, but that’s what I think.

The level of commitment that Jesus is assuming here is awfully intense. It is a full commitment of the way they live their lives in relationship to their core beliefs about The Holy and about the leadership of Jesus. But he doesn’t expect commitment from his followers without setting himself up as an example.

In John 10, Jesus tries to explain to the crowd his commitment to his followers. He is the shepherd and he is the gate. He will protect them at all costs. He is also asserting that he is not a victim, even if he dies for his commitment. In verse 18 he says, “No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this from my Father.” Jesus has the power and he gets this power through the authority of the one he calls Father. A little later he makes the proclamation that he gives his followers, his sheep, eternal life and that they will never perish. This too he bases on the authority of his Father. Then he makes a claim that is radical enough to those who are listening that they want to kill him. Jesus says, “The Father and I are one.” According to Bible commentators this word “one” does not mean Jesus is saying he and the Father are one person, but rather that he and the Father are united in their vision, purpose, ideals, and commitment. Even so, the crowd takes offense and wants to kill him for blasphemy. According to the text, they believed Jesus was calling himself God.

He couldn’t talk his way out of this one – he had to escape. Jesus’ self-proclaimed one-ness with The Holy, regardless of whether he was claiming Godhood for himself or just that he was intrinsically committed to God’s purpose, required him to escape. It seems like they weren’t buying his explanation. Earlier, remember, Jesus said that he lays down his life – it doesn’t get taken from him. This escape of his seems to bear that out.

In chapter 17 Jesus speaks of one-ness again. This time he is talking about the one-ness that he has with the Father; the one-ness of the followers with each other; the one-ness of the future believers (that’s us) with his current followers; and the one-ness of all these followers of his with him and the Father. Verse 21 says, “As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us.” And in Verse 22, “The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one as we are one.”

These are extraordinary prayers, hopes, and claims! This is the kind of talk that almost got him stoned to death just a few chapters back. Now, here he is, wanting us to make the same commitment to the Father and to the work that he himself has made. This prayer that he is praying is right before he gets he gets nabbed by the soldiers, police, and the religious authorities, at the betrayal of Judas. There is no question in my mind that the writer of this gospel is challenging her readers to this kind of full commitment to the one called Father, to Jesus, and to the community of believers.

What is this one-ness? “I in you and you in me, that they may become completely one,” it says. To what purpose? “So that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” This is the one-ness the crowd freaked out about. This is the one-ness that the religious authorities raged against. This is the one-ness that folks interpret to mean, “you are making yourself equal to God” – this one-ness Jesus prays for on our behalf.

In chapter 10 verses 35 and 36 the writer of this gospel tries to explain what this one-ness means, using the words of Jesus. “If those to whom the word of God came were called ‘gods’ – and the scripture cannot be annulled – can you say that the one whom the Father has sanctified and sent into the world is blaspheming because I said, ‘I am God’s Son’?” Jesus then points to the work he is doing and says if it isn’t the work of the Father, then don’t believe him. But they don’t care about his work – they care about his words which they think indicate his attitude. They can’t stand that Jesus is claiming solidarity with the one he calls Father. Then in chapter 17 we see that Jesus is praying for that very same solidarity for his followers.

I can only tell you what I believe this all means. I’ve already stated, I think, that this means a full commitment on our part as followers of Jesus the Christ – a full commitment to his ideals and his work. But what I want to name goes beyond that. I believe Jesus is praying for us to experience and become what he himself experienced and became. I believe Jesus is praying for us to be christs. In chapter 17 verse 22 Jesus says, “The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one.” We are given glory. We are called to one-ness. This one-ness is centered around love. That’s critical! Otherwise I think we’re talking about simple arrogance. The ideals and works of The Holy and of Jesus must be based in love. Verse 26 says, “I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” The love with which Jesus has loved us will be in us and so then Jesus will be in us.

It is the love which compels us to solidarity. It is the love that fosters our commitment. It is the love that is so intimidating to those in the crowd that they will do anything, including murder, to exterminate it. We are called to be christs – to be unwavering in our commitment to the ideals and work of Jesus. We are to be unwavering in our solidarity to The Holy, to Jesus, and to each other.

To what purpose? What are the ideals and works of Jesus? Who or what are we christs to or for? These are the questions that I want to leave us with. I will say that the event that took place immediately preceding Jesus claiming one-ness with the Father was his healing of man born blind and the offense that the religious leaders took at this healing. But this healing is just one of many actions that Jesus took in solidarity with the one he calls Father.

I’ve been using this word solidarity – and I’ve been using it in relationship to our commitment to The Holy. That may seem odd. Why would our Divine Beloved need our solidarity? There are millions of people with whom we need to be in solidarity. I believe that our Divine Beloved is in solidarity with them. If we give ourselves fully to being the christs Jesus prayed for us to be, then I believe we will enter into the solidarity that our Divine Beloved has for these millions of humans who are suffering. Jon Sobrino, in his book Where is God? defines solidarity this way, “ Solidarity means not only giving but self-giving; this is not only or mainly an ascetic or romantically voluntaristic approach, but rather presupposes a fundamental anthropology. Solidarity means letting oneself be affected by the suffering of other human beings, sharing their pain and tragedy.” Sobrino emphasizes the words, “letting oneself be affected by.” It’s not just “helping.” It’s being in relationship. It’s loving. It’s being committed.

My questions remain … To what purpose are we called to be Christs? What are the ideals and works of Jesus? Who or what are we Christs to or for? Let’s think about these questions as we consider who are as a community and how we want to live our faith out in public.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

The Ripped Veil

Matthew 27:45 - 56

It’s been three weeks since the resurrection of Jesus. He spent some time walking around, talking to folks, cooking them breakfast, and empowering them to continue his work. In between those visitations and since, I imagine the followers of Jesus were thinking about the events of the previous weeks. Stories were being told, shared, and embellished upon. Myth and legend about what happened began to develop.

Today I want to focus on verse 51 – “At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split.” Is this legend and myth or is this fact? Does it matter either way? Since it’s included in all three synoptic gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – it must important. Ted Jennings in his book, “The Insurrection of the Crucified” talks about how this veil represented “the very principle and foundation of religion.” (pg 294) This veil separated the holy from the unholy – the sacred from the ordinary. This veil that is said to be ripped from top to bottom at the death of Jesus is foundational to the core of religious hierarchy.

What is a foundation? The foundation of something is what everything else is built on. It is unseen most of the time. This veil, sometimes called a curtain, was no different. The temple was constructed so that the veil was deep inside the holy place. God was said to actually be behind the veil. The high priest only went in there once a year on the day of atonement. The writers of the gospel are telling us about something that happened that they could not possible have actually known. It isn’t like folks were in the temple worshipping and could see the curtain rip. They didn’t have security cameras with a time/date stamp. The curtain was only seen once a year by the high priest and this wasn’t that time of year. The writers are making a point here – a crucial point about the meaning of Jesus’ death … the meaning of his sacrifice. I don’t believe it’s the only point – but it’s big.

It cost Jesus his life in a brutal way to stand up against the religious and political powers of his day. But the ripping of the veil represents what it cost the powers. The cost to the powers is that their very foundation was torn asunder. This caused everything that they thought was stable to crack and shake. The earth, it says, shook and the rocks split open.

It was believed that if you went to the place in the temple where the veil was – a place in a separate room behind a cedar door – and you weren’t the high priest on the day of atonement, you had a death wish. God would not tolerate such impertinence. Now the veil is ripped open. Does that mean the power of God is unleashed and everyone is going to die? Does the power of God get contained in the room? What happens when the door gets opened? Or does it mean that the separation between The Holy and the human is no longer? Does it mean that God doesn’t want to be separated anymore?

The religious hierarchy – the puppet masters of the people – does not have exclusive rights to the presence of The Holy anymore. They thought that by executing the movement’s leader that they would gain back control, but the opposite happened. Even before Jesus’ resurrection, their very foundation split in two exposing what they thought was safely hidden away, that they were keeping people from God.

As the Jesus movement grew, the leaders, I imagine, reflected on the events and teachings of Jesus as well as the teachings they had grown up with. They started making connections between things. The second chapter of 1 Peter says we are a royal priesthood. I see a direct connection between our being a royal priesthood and the temple curtain being ripped in two. With the curtain ripped, there is no longer any separation between The Holy and the human. We have no need of a priest to hide himself once a year to offer animal sacrifices on behalf of the sins of the community. We are our own priests.

But what does that mean? Are we supposed to offer animal sacrifices for ourselves? I hope not. I don’t have the stomach for that. What was the essential office of the priest? Yes, they performed animal sacrifices as well as food and drink offerings. They performed blessings, too. But the essential office of the priests was to mediate between the people and God. It was through the sacrifices, offerings, blessings and so forth that they did their mediation. The tribe of Levi was chosen to be the priests. They were not allowed to own homes or land. When all the other tribes were being given their land, the portion of the Levites was God. They were given God as their portion. That meant that the people had to support them. It was through the offerings and sacrifices of the people that the priests lived. You can see how this might become a booming business for the Levites. Sure they couldn’t own land, but the people sacrificed the best of what they had, and gave it to God, by giving it to them. They had a lot of control.

Now the curtain which separates The Holy from the human – the sacred from the ordinary – is rent. The requirement for a mediator is abolished. If we are priests, then The Holy has become our portion. As wonderful as that sounds, there is a flip side to it. If we are all priests, does that mean we can’t own anything? Does that mean we can’t own a house or buy our own food? No. I think it turns the whole system upside down. I think it means that we need to redefine what it means to own things. We need to redefine what it means to be in a community. If we are all priests, and we all can draw near to the holy of holies, there is no need for a religious hierarchy. When I say things like this to folks I’m often challenged with the question, “So what do we need you for?” That’s a good question. If we reject the idea of religious hierarchy, then why do we need ordained clergy?

The crux of the matter for me is the hierarchy. I do not bring you closer to The Holy. I do not have any extra power than anyone else. I have some training to read the literature that we call sacred, and my calling as a pastor is to devote myself to my people in prayer, and study, and ritual leading. I also don’t believe in professional hierarchy. I don’t think a doctor should have any more rights or privileges than a patient. Neither do I believe that an executive should have more rights or privileges than a worker. I don’t think a president or senator or governor should have more rights and privileges than anyone else. I don’t think the rich should get better medical services than the poor. I could go on and on, but I’m sure you get my point.

Dismantling religious hierarchy is dangerous for those in power, all across the board. If we believe that we are all priests that will change society. It could obliterate oppression and poverty. No one gets to keep God to themselves or dole God out to others. The Holy is the portion of everyone. How does that change me? How does that change you? How might that change us – us in the little here in this room and us in Chicagoland or Illinois? Take it as far out as you can.

There are a lot of benefits to not needing a mediator to reach The Holy. There’s also a lot of responsibility. Actively living into our priesthood means not putting ourselves above or below others. It means enacting peace in our lives daily. It means honoring others but also honoring ourselves. This is counter-cultural, which means it’s hard and aggravating work. We do it because it is who we are, not for any gain. That too is counter-cultural. It’s hard to wrap our heads around not doing something for gain. We also, though, need to not do it for some higher purpose of suffering. The goal isn’t to do without anymore than it is to gain more. The goal is peace, equality, and unity in diversity. It sounds so idealistic, doesn’t it? Maybe I’m a dreamer – but I don’t think I’m the only one. Will you join me?

Sunday, April 06, 2008

The Prophethood of Believers

Joel 2:21 - 32 and Acts 2:1 - 21

First I want to address the second half of verse 17 in the Acts text. It says, “your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” As cool as that is, I need to point out that it doesn’t mention young and old women. Women are included in prophesying and in receiving the outpouring of the Spirit, which sandwiches this text, but they’re not included here. Why aren’t women included in the dreams and visions. Maybe it’s because that’s something women already did, so it’s not extraordinary. Maybe it was a typo. I could guess all day long why women aren’t included in the dreaming and visioning. I’m not sure it would help us. The bottom line is that they weren’t included. But what helped me was remembering something I read in the Gospel of Thomas. Number 22 in Thomas says this:

Jesus saw some infants being nursed and said to his disciples, “These children are like those who enter the kingdom.”

They said to him, “If we are children shall we enter the kingdom?”

Jesus said to them, “When you make the two one, and when you make the inner like the outer and the outer like the inner, and the upper like the lower, and when you make the male and the female into a single one, so that the male is not male and the female not female, when you make eyes in the place of an eye, a hand in place of a hand, a foot in place of a foot, and an image in place of an image, then you shall enter the kingdom.”

According to this, entering the Kingdom requires us to get beyond normal definitions and boundaries of thought and action. It requires us to be like infants – not knowing these distinctions. At least that seems like part of it to me. To this end, I think, Peter explains the craziness of the followers of Jesus in terms of Joel’s prophesy – not only will prophets prophesy, but regular people will too. It won’t just be the men who experience the pouring out of the spirit, it will be women too. Not just the old, but the young; or not just the young, but the old. All flesh – all mortals – everyone will experience the pouring out of the Spirit. And everyone will have something to say.

You may not feel like you are called to be a “Prophet.” Maybe you feel like you don’t have the “gift” of prophesy. That doesn’t mean that you might not get a word. How many things do you do in a day that you aren’t “called” to do or that you don’ have a “gifting” for? I don’t have a particular gifting in, say, doing the dishes – but I’m certainly called upon sometimes to them. I don’t have a particular gifting to teach Sunday School, but I’ve found myself called upon to do it.

The Spirit is poured out on you!! That’s the bottom line that I get from this. Jesus was a big mouth. He said things he shouldn’t have oughta said. But he said them regardless. He is counted by most religious folks as a prophet. John the Baptist said things he shouldn’t have oughta said too. Joel also had a big mouth. No, we’re not all called to speak to groups of people – but we may all sometimes be called upon to do so.

The story in Acts is not a story of folks teaching and preaching. They are praising their Divine Beloved. It says in verse 4 that the Holy Spirit gave them utterance and then in verse 8 that the people who were around them overhearing them were impacted by what they said. It’s here that the teaching starts. Peter then tells the story of Jesus. In verse 36 Peter wraps up his teaching about what is going on. The result is that many of the crowd “received his words gladly and were baptized.” (verse 41) It was a good day for Peter. But it wasn’t an account of Peter – it all started with the people lifting up their voices because the Spirit was poured out on them.

There are many examples of public speakers who have received a portion of the pouring out of the Spirit. Two days ago was the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination. Dr. King was drenched with the outpouring of the Spirit and he had a gifting and a calling to have a big mouth. John Lennon had a big mouth too. The Dalai Lama has big mouth and is saying things to the people in power he shouldn’t oughta say. Frankly, I'm starting to get real worried for him. Those are people with a special gifting. What about us? We are the normal everyday people who are receive the outpouring of the Spirit.

I believe in the prophethood of all believers! Joel and Peter announced that everyone – women and men, young and old, rich and poor, owners of companies and workers who don’t make enough to make ends meet – everyone would have the outpouring of the Spirit and words to speak. Not only would they have the words to speak, but by implication they should all be listened to. You, friends, have words to speak. You should be listened to.

The Spirit of The Holy is poured out on you. Words come to you at various times in various places. Speak the words. Not everyone in the Acts story listened, but many did. You should be listened to. It doesn’t matter who you are, what you wear, the color of your skin, who you love, how much money you don’t have … The Spirit is poured out on you!!

Saturday, April 05, 2008

2008 Pride Already?


Organization has already begun for Chicago's 2008 Pride events. Dang!! Where'd the time go?

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

"Heroine of the Time Machine"

"Heroine of the Time Machine"
When she was fifteen if you'd told her
that when she was twenty she'd be going
to bed with bald-headed men and liking it,
she would have thought you very abstract.

Richard Brautigan
Loading Mercury with a Pitchfork