Send a minister to a conference???
The newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance, of which I am the Steward of Spiritual Health, would like to send me to the 4th Annual Transgender Religious Leaders Summit. Here's the hitch ... we don't have much money.
Is there anyone here that would like to donate miles for me to go?
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Where's The Antidote?
I need to state for the record that religion can be toxic. All religions. All flavours. Everywhere. From the beginning of time. Toxic. Poisonous. Deadly.
Because I am a Christian minister, I will focus on Christianity in this post. That said, all religions - those whose god is ethereal and divine as well as those whose god is material and profane. Take that where you will.
Some of you may be thinking ... Oh pastor, did you just realize this? What happened to you today? Has the shine dulled on your optimism?
To this I answer ... I have known this for a long time. Nothing happened to me today. My optimism may or may not be dulled, but my hope stands firm. More on that later - probably. I don't really have a plan for this post - where I am going with it, how it will end, if there's a take-home.
For me, today was a decent day. Yesterday the church where I preached received me well. I heard via email that another church is looking forward to my upcoming visit. Later this week I have a conference call with the other Stewards of the newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance. The church that I pastor had a wonderful time of fellowship and worship a couple sundays ago when we last met. While I have experienced the toxicity of religion in the past, right now I am drinking from a font of grace and love.
If only my life reflected the lives of all people everywhere. It doesn't, though. I know it doesn't because I am hearing the stories. These stories include:
Being excluded from ministry based on some immoral code of morality.
Being excluded from ministry because of minority status.
Being powered out of ministry because of not towing the party line.
Being afraid that those with authority to pull rank will do so based on their interpretation of what is holy and what isn't.
The list could go on, but you get the idea. And this list doesn't include the Koran burning Christians; the Thunder God Christians (Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out); those who claim the name and moral code of a god that will gain them political clout; etc.
Isn't religion supposed to be about love? I remember a couple years ago some guy commenting on a post of mine that Jesus' message wasn't all about love, soft and mushy, but that it was about punishment and condemnation. This guy was right in a way. Jesus spoke of condemnation and judgment, but it was of those who wouldn't extend help to the poor and sick; to those who were against healing a person's physical body or delivering them from demons on the sabbath; to those who used religious power to gain political or financial power.
Power. I think that's what this is all about. Power. This may seem obvious, but obvious things need to be stated sometimes. Stated and opposed.
It's not that I think my blogging this is going to change the world, change religious structures, or change the problems that my friends(and others) are having. I wish it would, but, well, I don't have that kind of power. I do, however, have the power to hear these hard stories and to help tell these hard stories so that others will hear them. Not enough people know or believe that these kinds of things really happen in the world, let alone in the church.
They happen.
People are excluded.
Good people.
Holy people.
Gifted ministers.
Called by the Divine Beloved.
And I am angry about it - sick of it. I am so angry that expletives are almost making their way into this post. I do swear in person, but I don't in my online writing. If I thought it would help, I would give in and use words of a blue nature. I don't think it will help. I don't think they are particularly persuasive words. But ... I am that angry.
Last Friday I went to a holy gathering. It wasn't church. It wasn't Christian. But it was spiritual and holy. In the course of our conversation we talked about Poison Ivy. Someone said that usually Jewelweed, an antidote for Poison Ivy, is only a few feet away. We talked about how often this is true in general, that an antidote is close but that we don't know what it is, what it looks like, or where to find it.
As I've said, I am a Christian minister. I love God, I think worshiping in community can be a beautiful and life-giving experience, and I have spent my whole life being devoted to seeking that which is and who is divine. During the course of my life I have stepped into the poisonous patches of religion and watched others struggle with being infected as well. It has been tempting to leave ... to quit ... to turn my back on it all, on the whole forest because it seems like the poison is taking over. In some patches of the forest it is taking over. That's the sad truth. Parts of the forest are all poison. I have begun to walk away more than once, but I can't. The beauty, the true beauty of the forest compels me to stay.
As I watch my friends and listen to their stories, I see the poison growing up the trees and spreading as a ground cover. I am looking for the Jewelweed. I am wondering if I am the Jewelweed. How I want to be! I think sometimes I am. But how does it work?
Well, according to http://www.altnature.com/jewelweed.htm:
"When you are out in the field and find you have been exposed to poison ivy, oak, or stinging nettle you can reach for the jewelweed plant and slice the stem, then rub its juicy inside on exposed parts. This will promptly ease irritation and usually prevents breakout for most people."
So, it seems I need to be willing to be cut open. The fluid which flows in me (you mean, like my blood?) needs to be rubbed on the affected areas of the person who was poisoned.
Not a gentle touch by me, not just gazing in my general direction, but I need to be broken open if I want to be an antidote. As a human, there are lots of ways to be broken open. Sometimes just being present is being broken open, but being present in an intentional, purposeful, and vulnerable way ... not simply hanging around.
It is an easy jump to bring up the metaphor of Jesus being broken open as an antidote, and yes, I could make a sermon out of that. Someday I might. But right now, I'm thinking about those in the church today who call themselves people of faith, people who I would say are anointed of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the call of Christ in this world. We need to be the antidote, not the poison. We need to be there, close to the poison so that we are available. We need to be accessible and ready. We need to be willing.
This isn't an altar call. I'm not going to end by asking "who is with me?" I'm grieving and I'm angry. I'm thinking out loud. What's happening isn't enough. It will never be enough. Nothing, so far, has been enough. Jesus wasn't enough, why should I think I will be. And yet, Jesus went all the way. He knew there would be more work. He knew he was asking a lot of those who said they were his disciples. And he talked about the poison and the antidote growing side by side.
I have dedicated myself to partnering with Jesus, to being guided by his teachings and his spirit, and to live humbly and powerfully. So, now I want to be a Jewelweed.
Because I am a Christian minister, I will focus on Christianity in this post. That said, all religions - those whose god is ethereal and divine as well as those whose god is material and profane. Take that where you will.
Some of you may be thinking ... Oh pastor, did you just realize this? What happened to you today? Has the shine dulled on your optimism?
To this I answer ... I have known this for a long time. Nothing happened to me today. My optimism may or may not be dulled, but my hope stands firm. More on that later - probably. I don't really have a plan for this post - where I am going with it, how it will end, if there's a take-home.
For me, today was a decent day. Yesterday the church where I preached received me well. I heard via email that another church is looking forward to my upcoming visit. Later this week I have a conference call with the other Stewards of the newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance. The church that I pastor had a wonderful time of fellowship and worship a couple sundays ago when we last met. While I have experienced the toxicity of religion in the past, right now I am drinking from a font of grace and love.
If only my life reflected the lives of all people everywhere. It doesn't, though. I know it doesn't because I am hearing the stories. These stories include:
Being excluded from ministry based on some immoral code of morality.
Being excluded from ministry because of minority status.
Being powered out of ministry because of not towing the party line.
Being afraid that those with authority to pull rank will do so based on their interpretation of what is holy and what isn't.
The list could go on, but you get the idea. And this list doesn't include the Koran burning Christians; the Thunder God Christians (Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out); those who claim the name and moral code of a god that will gain them political clout; etc.
Isn't religion supposed to be about love? I remember a couple years ago some guy commenting on a post of mine that Jesus' message wasn't all about love, soft and mushy, but that it was about punishment and condemnation. This guy was right in a way. Jesus spoke of condemnation and judgment, but it was of those who wouldn't extend help to the poor and sick; to those who were against healing a person's physical body or delivering them from demons on the sabbath; to those who used religious power to gain political or financial power.
Power. I think that's what this is all about. Power. This may seem obvious, but obvious things need to be stated sometimes. Stated and opposed.
It's not that I think my blogging this is going to change the world, change religious structures, or change the problems that my friends(and others) are having. I wish it would, but, well, I don't have that kind of power. I do, however, have the power to hear these hard stories and to help tell these hard stories so that others will hear them. Not enough people know or believe that these kinds of things really happen in the world, let alone in the church.
They happen.
People are excluded.
Good people.
Holy people.
Gifted ministers.
Called by the Divine Beloved.
And I am angry about it - sick of it. I am so angry that expletives are almost making their way into this post. I do swear in person, but I don't in my online writing. If I thought it would help, I would give in and use words of a blue nature. I don't think it will help. I don't think they are particularly persuasive words. But ... I am that angry.
Last Friday I went to a holy gathering. It wasn't church. It wasn't Christian. But it was spiritual and holy. In the course of our conversation we talked about Poison Ivy. Someone said that usually Jewelweed, an antidote for Poison Ivy, is only a few feet away. We talked about how often this is true in general, that an antidote is close but that we don't know what it is, what it looks like, or where to find it.
As I've said, I am a Christian minister. I love God, I think worshiping in community can be a beautiful and life-giving experience, and I have spent my whole life being devoted to seeking that which is and who is divine. During the course of my life I have stepped into the poisonous patches of religion and watched others struggle with being infected as well. It has been tempting to leave ... to quit ... to turn my back on it all, on the whole forest because it seems like the poison is taking over. In some patches of the forest it is taking over. That's the sad truth. Parts of the forest are all poison. I have begun to walk away more than once, but I can't. The beauty, the true beauty of the forest compels me to stay.
As I watch my friends and listen to their stories, I see the poison growing up the trees and spreading as a ground cover. I am looking for the Jewelweed. I am wondering if I am the Jewelweed. How I want to be! I think sometimes I am. But how does it work?
Well, according to http://www.altnature.com/jewelweed.htm:
"When you are out in the field and find you have been exposed to poison ivy, oak, or stinging nettle you can reach for the jewelweed plant and slice the stem, then rub its juicy inside on exposed parts. This will promptly ease irritation and usually prevents breakout for most people."
So, it seems I need to be willing to be cut open. The fluid which flows in me (you mean, like my blood?) needs to be rubbed on the affected areas of the person who was poisoned.
Not a gentle touch by me, not just gazing in my general direction, but I need to be broken open if I want to be an antidote. As a human, there are lots of ways to be broken open. Sometimes just being present is being broken open, but being present in an intentional, purposeful, and vulnerable way ... not simply hanging around.
It is an easy jump to bring up the metaphor of Jesus being broken open as an antidote, and yes, I could make a sermon out of that. Someday I might. But right now, I'm thinking about those in the church today who call themselves people of faith, people who I would say are anointed of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the call of Christ in this world. We need to be the antidote, not the poison. We need to be there, close to the poison so that we are available. We need to be accessible and ready. We need to be willing.
This isn't an altar call. I'm not going to end by asking "who is with me?" I'm grieving and I'm angry. I'm thinking out loud. What's happening isn't enough. It will never be enough. Nothing, so far, has been enough. Jesus wasn't enough, why should I think I will be. And yet, Jesus went all the way. He knew there would be more work. He knew he was asking a lot of those who said they were his disciples. And he talked about the poison and the antidote growing side by side.
I have dedicated myself to partnering with Jesus, to being guided by his teachings and his spirit, and to live humbly and powerfully. So, now I want to be a Jewelweed.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
How Many Ways Are There To Sing A Song?
Below are four versions of the song, Leaning On The Everlasting Arms. I love this song and admittedly I chose four versions that I like out of the many many versions available on YouTube.
Everlasting Arms has been playing in my head for the last few weeks. The idea of leaning on the arms of Jesus is a wonderful way for me to feel comforted and strengthened. Singing this song helps my soul to remember that I need to trust, breathe, focus, and allow myself to hope.
Since I began checking out the YouTube videos of this song I have found a new inspiration. It is the inspiration that I feel from many voices saying (or singing) the same thing but doing it in their own way. At first I began searching for the song that I knew ... the version that I knew. I never did find it. What I did find was a whole lot of people doing the same thing differently.
How many ways are there to sing a song? How many ways are there to live a life? How many ways are there to follow a path of faith? How many ways are there to be you?
Sometimes I think it is easy to slip into a template of how we are ourselves. We can put ourselves into a box just as easily as we put others in a box. The "I can'ts" and "This is just what I do" lines that we tell ourselves can be replaced with, "What if I tried it this way?"
There are many valid, holy, and wonderful ways to be. Keep leaning ... keep loving ... and keep your soul flexible ...
Everlasting Arms has been playing in my head for the last few weeks. The idea of leaning on the arms of Jesus is a wonderful way for me to feel comforted and strengthened. Singing this song helps my soul to remember that I need to trust, breathe, focus, and allow myself to hope.
Since I began checking out the YouTube videos of this song I have found a new inspiration. It is the inspiration that I feel from many voices saying (or singing) the same thing but doing it in their own way. At first I began searching for the song that I knew ... the version that I knew. I never did find it. What I did find was a whole lot of people doing the same thing differently.
How many ways are there to sing a song? How many ways are there to live a life? How many ways are there to follow a path of faith? How many ways are there to be you?
Sometimes I think it is easy to slip into a template of how we are ourselves. We can put ourselves into a box just as easily as we put others in a box. The "I can'ts" and "This is just what I do" lines that we tell ourselves can be replaced with, "What if I tried it this way?"
There are many valid, holy, and wonderful ways to be. Keep leaning ... keep loving ... and keep your soul flexible ...
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