In honor of Halloween and celebrating with my family (in spirit) by eating my mom's chili (with fritos and pickles and saltine crackers), playing in my dad's old theatre greasepaint and traipsing through the wet leaves and shivering up to the houses in our neighborhood hoping for chocolate and not Smarties, I share with you a story written by a little boy in my sister's second grade class...
"one spooky nite a boy lost his shoe and a gost eat him. Bogl bogle. give me your candey or I will eat you."
Most Excellent.
Wah ah ah...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Looking For Something...
I clicked on 36 blogs today looking for memories, stories, anything I could feast on. Memories other than mine, ones that would make me smile. Not that mine don't make me smile (or guffaw), but sometimes remembering can be difficult. It requires a journey backward when we try so hard to go forward (read: forget). Not all anniversaries are pleasant. Some require remembering things we wish had never happened. Other anniversaries are full of joy. This anniversary, I oscillated between the two: sadness and joy. That's a good step, I think.
Craig gave me a little bit of both. I should have expected that.
He was mentioned last night at the Friends of Truett dinner at the BGCT convention. It startled me. I was having a typical boring convention day, then attended the delicious dinner for the sake of free food, then schmoozed with some people, and then he was there, staring at me, grinning. Grinning and dead. And he had an award named after him.
I didn't cry. Sometimes when I'm startled, I cry. But I just sat there, remembering, and trying not to remember.
Shit. Now I'm remembering again... the worst parts... the viewing... the casket.
See, that's why I went to 36 blogs. I guess it still freaks me out. And I don't want to panic or be sad - just remember and be thankful and remember that we're all on this journey together - no one's really gone.
So thanks Craig, and thanks Kyle. Tell God I said hello and thanks for the memories.
Craig gave me a little bit of both. I should have expected that.
He was mentioned last night at the Friends of Truett dinner at the BGCT convention. It startled me. I was having a typical boring convention day, then attended the delicious dinner for the sake of free food, then schmoozed with some people, and then he was there, staring at me, grinning. Grinning and dead. And he had an award named after him.
I didn't cry. Sometimes when I'm startled, I cry. But I just sat there, remembering, and trying not to remember.
Shit. Now I'm remembering again... the worst parts... the viewing... the casket.
See, that's why I went to 36 blogs. I guess it still freaks me out. And I don't want to panic or be sad - just remember and be thankful and remember that we're all on this journey together - no one's really gone.
So thanks Craig, and thanks Kyle. Tell God I said hello and thanks for the memories.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
I Heart Halloween and Here's Why...
Guess who came to dinner?
Tinker Bell and her Pirate
Gypsie
A Canadian Flight Attendant
Marilyn Monroe
David Bowie
Two guys from The Office
A Tree Nymph
Nacho Libre
A guy with spiral horns on his head
Bob the painter
A Mayan Priest
A Gypsie
A deranged Bride
Wonder Woman
A Gay Pirate
Wolverine
Spiderman
Elpheba
Tinker Bell and her Pirate
Gypsie
A Canadian Flight Attendant
Marilyn Monroe
David Bowie
Two guys from The Office
A Tree Nymph
Nacho Libre
A guy with spiral horns on his head
Bob the painter
A Mayan Priest
A Gypsie
A deranged Bride
Wonder Woman
A Gay Pirate
Wolverine
Spiderman
Elpheba
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Sunday through Tuesday
Since Dr. Pittman works 15 hour days, I only see her around 4am when we eat breakfast in the kitchen and for about an hour and a half in the evening when we eat dinner and hang out before she goes to bed. Consequently, I spend much of the day with Sophie the dog. Sophie and I go for walks, nap, read (ahem, i read and she naps more), play with the half-eaten purple ball that gets thrown up and down the hallway, and eat.
Oh, and she has a licking fetish. I'm not sure when this started, but she loves kissing now. Sometimes at night when I'm trying to sleep, I have to tuck my head under the covers to protect my face from her long wet tongue. At first it was cute. She gives kisses! Now, I'm afraid I've got dog cooties.
Oh, and she has a licking fetish. I'm not sure when this started, but she loves kissing now. Sometimes at night when I'm trying to sleep, I have to tuck my head under the covers to protect my face from her long wet tongue. At first it was cute. She gives kisses! Now, I'm afraid I've got dog cooties.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Saturday
The weather was beautiful.
"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough?" Amy warned, and we went to her closet to grab a scarf and dress coat.
But it was beautiful.
"Your face got sunburned!" Amy guffawed at me later that night. "How do you live in Texas and come to Chicago and get sunburned?!"
"I wear sun block in Texas!" I defended myself, giggling with her.
Mom bought us tickets to go see Wicked on Saturday for Amy's birthday. Oh. My. Gosh. I don't know how I lucked out on that birthday present, but I did. And it was the "best birthday present ever!" as Amy exclaimed. I bought her a tee shirt to commemorate it.
The morning started off at the Handlebar, this great little restaurant tucked into the bottom floor of a building. And the wait staff was to die for. These casual cuties could have been imported from Austin to this delicious dive. So Amy and I enjoyed both the food and the sights!
From there we took the El downtown and after identifying the theatre where we needed to be in a few hours, we began walking towards the lake. Except we didn't. We walked the wrong way. An hour later, we did reach the lake though and the beautiful park, fountains and statues that nestled beside it. Brent and Matt, who we'd intended to meet there, were nowhere to be found, so we headed back toward the Oriental.
But first we had to change our shoes. We'd been wearing walk-able ones since we left the house this morning, but now we were going to the theatre and true to form, we pulled out our heels. "I don't know how Jessica does it," Amy lamented after we had walked a block beautifully in our theatre shoes. "Jessica Simpson wears high heels every day," Amy had informed me earlier when we were walking forever in the wrong direction. "You probably never wear nice shoes at the hospital I guess," I replied, proud that I was fairing better in the heels than my always dolled up sister. "I haven't dressed up in months," she replied.
The Oriental Theatre was gorgeous with all kinds of exquisite animals and gods sculpted into the walls and ceilings. I tried to take a picture of them, but was promptly yelled at and so just admired them through my opera glasses.
Right before the show started, a man came by yelling about water he was selling. "What? Are we at a ballgame? Is nothing sacred anymore?" I muttered under my breath.
"Is he selling food?" Amy asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Twizzlers!" He held them up. "I want those," she said in classic I've returned to childhood persona, petitioning me with her big eyes, and unable to resist her request, I pulled out three dollars and bought them for her.
The show was amazing. Amy turned to me at intermission, "Is it over?" She had tears in her eyes.
"No honey, its just intermission."
"Did you cry?" she asked me.
"No," I giggled, "but obviously you did."
I did cry at the finale. It's really a lovely story about scapegoating and the power of the powerful and the manipulated to decide what's good and what's evil, when it often claims no root in reality. It's about gumption and doing the right thing and friendship. Mostly, it's about friendship and love. That's why I cried. It was so neat to share that with one of my best friends.
So we bought matching tee shirts. Rather, I bought them for us. We called it part of her birthday present. The I heart Oz purple ringer tees with Elpheba and Glenda in the heart. They're way cute and I love that we both have matching ones.
After returning back to our side of town, we ran to the grocery store so we could eat dinner that night and I could cook us dinner the rest of the week. Shocker, I know. But I'm actually quite domesticated even if I can only cook three meals. No one's asking for your opinion.
So we ate onion soup and Amy went to bed. I watched four episodes of Grey's Anatomy on my computer and am content that I am all caught up. I'm not satisfied with the plot, but I am caught up. George and Izzie, I swear...
So that's it. That's Saturday. That was our one day together. And it was perfect. Two sisters, two friends, two pairs of shoes, two tickets, two witches, two meals, too much walking, too much fun.
"Are you sure you're going to be warm enough?" Amy warned, and we went to her closet to grab a scarf and dress coat.
But it was beautiful.
"Your face got sunburned!" Amy guffawed at me later that night. "How do you live in Texas and come to Chicago and get sunburned?!"
"I wear sun block in Texas!" I defended myself, giggling with her.
Mom bought us tickets to go see Wicked on Saturday for Amy's birthday. Oh. My. Gosh. I don't know how I lucked out on that birthday present, but I did. And it was the "best birthday present ever!" as Amy exclaimed. I bought her a tee shirt to commemorate it.
The morning started off at the Handlebar, this great little restaurant tucked into the bottom floor of a building. And the wait staff was to die for. These casual cuties could have been imported from Austin to this delicious dive. So Amy and I enjoyed both the food and the sights!
From there we took the El downtown and after identifying the theatre where we needed to be in a few hours, we began walking towards the lake. Except we didn't. We walked the wrong way. An hour later, we did reach the lake though and the beautiful park, fountains and statues that nestled beside it. Brent and Matt, who we'd intended to meet there, were nowhere to be found, so we headed back toward the Oriental.
But first we had to change our shoes. We'd been wearing walk-able ones since we left the house this morning, but now we were going to the theatre and true to form, we pulled out our heels. "I don't know how Jessica does it," Amy lamented after we had walked a block beautifully in our theatre shoes. "Jessica Simpson wears high heels every day," Amy had informed me earlier when we were walking forever in the wrong direction. "You probably never wear nice shoes at the hospital I guess," I replied, proud that I was fairing better in the heels than my always dolled up sister. "I haven't dressed up in months," she replied.
The Oriental Theatre was gorgeous with all kinds of exquisite animals and gods sculpted into the walls and ceilings. I tried to take a picture of them, but was promptly yelled at and so just admired them through my opera glasses.
Right before the show started, a man came by yelling about water he was selling. "What? Are we at a ballgame? Is nothing sacred anymore?" I muttered under my breath.
"Is he selling food?" Amy asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Twizzlers!" He held them up. "I want those," she said in classic I've returned to childhood persona, petitioning me with her big eyes, and unable to resist her request, I pulled out three dollars and bought them for her.
The show was amazing. Amy turned to me at intermission, "Is it over?" She had tears in her eyes.
"No honey, its just intermission."
"Did you cry?" she asked me.
"No," I giggled, "but obviously you did."
I did cry at the finale. It's really a lovely story about scapegoating and the power of the powerful and the manipulated to decide what's good and what's evil, when it often claims no root in reality. It's about gumption and doing the right thing and friendship. Mostly, it's about friendship and love. That's why I cried. It was so neat to share that with one of my best friends.
So we bought matching tee shirts. Rather, I bought them for us. We called it part of her birthday present. The I heart Oz purple ringer tees with Elpheba and Glenda in the heart. They're way cute and I love that we both have matching ones.
After returning back to our side of town, we ran to the grocery store so we could eat dinner that night and I could cook us dinner the rest of the week. Shocker, I know. But I'm actually quite domesticated even if I can only cook three meals. No one's asking for your opinion.
So we ate onion soup and Amy went to bed. I watched four episodes of Grey's Anatomy on my computer and am content that I am all caught up. I'm not satisfied with the plot, but I am caught up. George and Izzie, I swear...
So that's it. That's Saturday. That was our one day together. And it was perfect. Two sisters, two friends, two pairs of shoes, two tickets, two witches, two meals, too much walking, too much fun.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Windy City
Well, I'm here. I'm officially covered in hair, bruises, scratches and slobber. Amy's lab Sophie devoured me as soon as I walked in the door. After swinging my luggage at her and shouting, "no" and "down" a bunch of times, I found the treats on the counter and life became more bearable.
Ah, Chicago.
Some things remain the same, even when we switch cities.
From the Airport, I took the El to the designated stop. It felt like I was back in Europe. I love public transit. When I emerged from the train, the grey skies and unfamiliar buildings were refreshing if daunting. There's something about joining with the ranks of humanity and bearing full force into a city. I think our politicians should ride public transportation. With one leg pressed against some over-sized man in sports paraphernalia, while the other guards your backpack under your seat, you've got one hand clutching your purse as the other peruses your iPod which is connected via headphones into one ear while the other ear waits for a call on your Bluetooth that your grandma bought you. Your eyes dart from the cute guy in worn, black jeans and a navy sports coat with a v-neck grey tee underneath to the suspicious men who man be plotting to steal your stuff. Which thief is giving his partner "the look?" The cute guy looks my age but his hands are dirty and his brow is furrowed. Is he having a bad day or is he homeless? Am I checking out a homeless guy? Blue-collar workers get on and off, all of color. The only white people are me, the hot guy, the sports guy, and the rich guy across the aisle, foolishly attempting a business call on the El. One young black girl sleeps with her head against the glass. She looks college age. I hope she doesn't miss her stop.
That's public transit. That's America. Politicians should be put in this position of being one of a million, of no consequence, getting on and off trains.
But right now Sophie's whining. Is she disappointed I'm not Amy? I toss her another treat and say the important words, "take it easy," so she doesn't bite off my hand.
Amy's apartment may be in the ghetto but it is beautiful and of course is decorated impeccably. Just Amy's style. Like blue walls, matching watercolors she painted herself, pictures of her family and friends on every mantle. There's one of me as a first grader. I'm dressed by my father the clothing store manager as if I stepped out of a GQ magazine and am a boy. I have on a blue button up shirt with a navy sweater over it. There is a yellow ribbon in my hair. Though I can't see them, I am sure I am wearing penny loafers on my feet, pennies and all. I look slightly caught off guard as if pictures aren't my thing, but are something I should make the most of. I look innocent but not child-like. Or perhaps child-like but not innocent. It's hard to pinpoint in my smile, which was always bigger and showing more teeth. Especially if I was laughing.
There's my mom and dad and grandma and grandpa, the sisters, both by blood and by nature. It's comforting and I feel like I'm at home.
While feeling like I'm in a foreign country all at the same time.
How did Amy end up in this cave of mystery, this den of unexplored territory? It's like fraggle rock only without all the colors.
I like it.
I like Chicago.
Ah, Chicago.
Some things remain the same, even when we switch cities.
From the Airport, I took the El to the designated stop. It felt like I was back in Europe. I love public transit. When I emerged from the train, the grey skies and unfamiliar buildings were refreshing if daunting. There's something about joining with the ranks of humanity and bearing full force into a city. I think our politicians should ride public transportation. With one leg pressed against some over-sized man in sports paraphernalia, while the other guards your backpack under your seat, you've got one hand clutching your purse as the other peruses your iPod which is connected via headphones into one ear while the other ear waits for a call on your Bluetooth that your grandma bought you. Your eyes dart from the cute guy in worn, black jeans and a navy sports coat with a v-neck grey tee underneath to the suspicious men who man be plotting to steal your stuff. Which thief is giving his partner "the look?" The cute guy looks my age but his hands are dirty and his brow is furrowed. Is he having a bad day or is he homeless? Am I checking out a homeless guy? Blue-collar workers get on and off, all of color. The only white people are me, the hot guy, the sports guy, and the rich guy across the aisle, foolishly attempting a business call on the El. One young black girl sleeps with her head against the glass. She looks college age. I hope she doesn't miss her stop.
That's public transit. That's America. Politicians should be put in this position of being one of a million, of no consequence, getting on and off trains.
But right now Sophie's whining. Is she disappointed I'm not Amy? I toss her another treat and say the important words, "take it easy," so she doesn't bite off my hand.
Amy's apartment may be in the ghetto but it is beautiful and of course is decorated impeccably. Just Amy's style. Like blue walls, matching watercolors she painted herself, pictures of her family and friends on every mantle. There's one of me as a first grader. I'm dressed by my father the clothing store manager as if I stepped out of a GQ magazine and am a boy. I have on a blue button up shirt with a navy sweater over it. There is a yellow ribbon in my hair. Though I can't see them, I am sure I am wearing penny loafers on my feet, pennies and all. I look slightly caught off guard as if pictures aren't my thing, but are something I should make the most of. I look innocent but not child-like. Or perhaps child-like but not innocent. It's hard to pinpoint in my smile, which was always bigger and showing more teeth. Especially if I was laughing.
There's my mom and dad and grandma and grandpa, the sisters, both by blood and by nature. It's comforting and I feel like I'm at home.
While feeling like I'm in a foreign country all at the same time.
How did Amy end up in this cave of mystery, this den of unexplored territory? It's like fraggle rock only without all the colors.
I like it.
I like Chicago.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
TV is a drug and I'm addicted. There is nothing better (okay, that's an exaggeration - and i'm sure I just spelled that word wrong - you can correct me later dad) than sitting in a hotel room in a foreign city with nothing to do but watch tv. Okay, that's not exactly true either. You could read the five magazines you brought with you that you've been meaning to devour for the past two months. You could blog. You could read the news online. You could see if they have a workout room at this hotel. There's a plethora of things really. But with a tv is set right in front of your full size bed with fluffy pillows, and there are no pets, no people, no house, no job, nothing to feel guilty about not doing or saying or seeing or working on - well, that's just too difficult a temptation to resist.
House is my second favorite show on television and it's on tuesday night. So when i have the night off, I watch Bones and then House. It's rare, but it happens. Unfortunately there's some baseball game on, but baseball's no good if it's not watched right there in the stadium. So I began sufing the channels.
And I landed on TNT. I should've known better. TNT knows drama and i am a drama queen. So after a typical law & order a newer show that i had never seen came on, Cold Case
TNT loves those blonde cop heroines. So the premise of this show is that old cases get re-opened. You meet the original cast of whatever year the crime took place and then you meet them (the non-dead ones) now. The killer (pun intended) is that the solving of the case is really touching. Each episode ends in a song showing the young and older characters settling in wherever they are... having received closure on the death of their loved one, having been carted off to prison, wherever. But those songs they play... geez! I mean, give a girl a chance to recover from the meladrama before you throw in the soundtrack.
After four episodes of Cold Case and feeling quite fond of my friends on the show, I decided five hours of television was plenty (don't forget i started with Law & Order) and turned off the tv.
Now if i can just turn off my brain...
House is my second favorite show on television and it's on tuesday night. So when i have the night off, I watch Bones and then House. It's rare, but it happens. Unfortunately there's some baseball game on, but baseball's no good if it's not watched right there in the stadium. So I began sufing the channels.
And I landed on TNT. I should've known better. TNT knows drama and i am a drama queen. So after a typical law & order a newer show that i had never seen came on, Cold Case
TNT loves those blonde cop heroines. So the premise of this show is that old cases get re-opened. You meet the original cast of whatever year the crime took place and then you meet them (the non-dead ones) now. The killer (pun intended) is that the solving of the case is really touching. Each episode ends in a song showing the young and older characters settling in wherever they are... having received closure on the death of their loved one, having been carted off to prison, wherever. But those songs they play... geez! I mean, give a girl a chance to recover from the meladrama before you throw in the soundtrack.
After four episodes of Cold Case and feeling quite fond of my friends on the show, I decided five hours of television was plenty (don't forget i started with Law & Order) and turned off the tv.
Now if i can just turn off my brain...
Monday, October 08, 2007
Golly. What a day.
It started this morning when I made an extra attept to wake up early (I set the alarm for 8:30 and woke up at 9ish) so I could go to work and get a lot accomplished today.
When I walked into the church the alarm went off.
Today was a holiday and I'd forgotten.
So instead of mailing information, I drove it to the workplace of the recipient. And I went to the hospital since residents on my block are having serious issues right now. Tommie, after some sort of heart/passing out/not getting enough oxygen to the brain issue went into the hospital two weeks ago tonight. Miracle of all miracles, she's alive and talking and so excited for visitors. So i chatted with her for awile about my halloween lights and the dogs and what's been going on lately with everyone.
My roommate on the other hand, went into the hospital yesterday after I received a phone call asking me for tums. Now, you must understand that my roomie does NOT take medicine. Consequently, anything that could actually push her so far over the edge as to ask for medecine isn't going to be remedied by Tums. Come on. After an apendectomy 12 hours later, she's better, but I got kicked out of her room for making her laugh (unintentionally!) and requiring her to get back on her oxygen. damnit. and i thought I was getting better at hospital visits. to make matters worse, when I left the hospital parking garage I backed into a car and had to leave a business card with an apology telling them to call me for insurance information. UGH!
But, having discovered it was a holiday and visiting my two friends and running some errands, and quite determined to make the most of it, I went to IKEA to buy a twin bed for my little! back bedroom. I had picked everything out online. Tonight, Frank put it together tonight while Joe H. and I watched. We ordered pizza hut pizza and drank miller light and it was seriously a blast of an evening.
So that's Monday. Unusual for Monday, but greatly appreciated. That you God for surprises good and bad. They are the world. And they remind us the world turns. Turn with us. Amen.
It started this morning when I made an extra attept to wake up early (I set the alarm for 8:30 and woke up at 9ish) so I could go to work and get a lot accomplished today.
When I walked into the church the alarm went off.
Today was a holiday and I'd forgotten.
So instead of mailing information, I drove it to the workplace of the recipient. And I went to the hospital since residents on my block are having serious issues right now. Tommie, after some sort of heart/passing out/not getting enough oxygen to the brain issue went into the hospital two weeks ago tonight. Miracle of all miracles, she's alive and talking and so excited for visitors. So i chatted with her for awile about my halloween lights and the dogs and what's been going on lately with everyone.
My roommate on the other hand, went into the hospital yesterday after I received a phone call asking me for tums. Now, you must understand that my roomie does NOT take medicine. Consequently, anything that could actually push her so far over the edge as to ask for medecine isn't going to be remedied by Tums. Come on. After an apendectomy 12 hours later, she's better, but I got kicked out of her room for making her laugh (unintentionally!) and requiring her to get back on her oxygen. damnit. and i thought I was getting better at hospital visits. to make matters worse, when I left the hospital parking garage I backed into a car and had to leave a business card with an apology telling them to call me for insurance information. UGH!
But, having discovered it was a holiday and visiting my two friends and running some errands, and quite determined to make the most of it, I went to IKEA to buy a twin bed for my little! back bedroom. I had picked everything out online. Tonight, Frank put it together tonight while Joe H. and I watched. We ordered pizza hut pizza and drank miller light and it was seriously a blast of an evening.
So that's Monday. Unusual for Monday, but greatly appreciated. That you God for surprises good and bad. They are the world. And they remind us the world turns. Turn with us. Amen.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Oh kids. Halloween is on the way!!!
Janie got a new halloween bone and some casual halloween costumes for outings and parties (i haven't decided on a final halloween costume for her yet). Potter and Zorba both got new halloween collars.
Orange and Purple lights are hung on the house (all by myself thank you!). Three pumpkins of varying sizes have been bought and I'm still looking for a glow in the dark skeleton for the back yard!! Yea!
I love playing dress-up!
Saturday, October 06, 2007
I've Been Lazy. Not Dead.
The Death of Blogs
I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. I write so my friends and relatives can stay connected with what's going on in my life. I used to write long emails telling funny antedotes about my life in Texas after I moved here. When I discovered that not everyone appreciated receiving those emails, I discovered the blog world. Now you get to choose whether or not to stay near even when we are far apart.
I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. I write so my friends and relatives can stay connected with what's going on in my life. I used to write long emails telling funny antedotes about my life in Texas after I moved here. When I discovered that not everyone appreciated receiving those emails, I discovered the blog world. Now you get to choose whether or not to stay near even when we are far apart.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Luke 16:1-13 Sermon
Read the scripture first. If you're zealous, read it in the NRSV version and The Message. This is my attempt at a sermon on this very difficult text.
I do not understand this passage of scripture at all. I can’t even repeat to you what I said when I first read it. What a puzzling piece of literature. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I mean, I guess I get the “you can’t have two masters: god and money” part, but I don’t really get the rest. Especially the part that says, “for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” Excuse me? Non-God-oriented-people are being praised for being shrewd? Children of light are being chided for not being shrewd? Perhaps Jesus referencing the “be shrewd as a snake and innocent as a dove” verse. I don’t know though, for he goes on to say, “Make friends for yourself by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” Use means of dishonest wealth? HUH?
Eugene Peterson’s The Message version puts it much more gently. Instead of calling the manager shrewd, he calls him “streetwise.” In this version, Jesus admonishes the person of the light to “use every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival.” Okay, that sort of makes sense. But is that what Jesus is saying? I mean, how does, “use dishonest wealth” translate into “use adversity to survive creatively”?
I love Peterson, but this is a bit of a stretch for me.
Perhaps the story Jesus is telling is ironic. What if it’s supposed to be satirical of the Pharisees who constantly abuse money and are of course standing around listening to him? What if the story isn’t for the “people of the light” at all, but rather is a rhetorical devise designed to undercut the Pharisees?
In other words, “you, who take people’s land when they can’t offer a big enough bird at the Temple, let me tell you a story. Here’s a story to you who own plenty of wealth while your people suffer. Once upon a time there was a dishonest manager who was fired, but figured out a way to manipulate a financial situation to save his ass. That is a smart man, let me tell you! Freaking brilliant man of God, right there. Only those like him will enter the kingdom of heaven.” Do you hear the irony, the disapproval, the judgment imposed on the Pharisees?
Read verses 10 and following, “whoever is faithful in little is faithful in much. If you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust you to the true riches?” Were the Pharisees fair in the way they dealt with their people? Not always. Why then should the people look to the Pharisees for spiritual guidance?
On the other hand, this could be said of us too. Why should we be entrusted with things of eternal value when we don’t even use the little we’ve been given? After all, we don’t always appreciate the sunrise and sunset every day. We don’t always feed the poor when we have plenty in our refrigerators. We get tired of listening to our co-workers complain about their lives and we get tired of offering the hope we’ve found. We have too much to do in our daily lives to use our gifts to serve God outside of our jobs.
Look at us! We don’t always take advantage of the resources, the gifts God has given us! And so we are not shrewd, we are not street-smart to use our resources to do what is right in the world. We don’t choose to live resourcefully. And in that way, we’re no different than the “children of this age.”
But that doesn’t change the fact that we are “children of light.” Even if we do come dangerously close to behaving like the Pharisees some days, we are not called “children of the Pharisees;” we are called “children of God.” But we are also called to accountability. We do not serve the God of money, we serve the God of love. Though we may make money, we mustn’t love money. We must use it resourcefully and creatively to bring redemption to our world. And if we don’t make money, we must take what gifts we have been given to offer hope to broken people.
Of course, first we must acknowledge what we have been given…
The parable before this is on the prodigal son, or rather, the loving father. God, the father in the parable, gives the son all he has and of course the son runs away with it to live how he pleases. He doesn’t acknowledge the gifts he has been given. When he realizes how foolish and abusive he has been of his father’s love, he runs home repentant and sad. But the father is good and forgives him and offers him his very best again. So must we acknowledge what God has given us, all the good things he has provided for us. We must not take our gifts and our blessings and use them for our own good. Rather we must stand up, and living in God’s kingdom, we must use these provisions to provide for others.
If that’s what I am called to do – okay. If I am called to subversively manage to help others while using the gifts I have been given by God – okay. If I am called to go against my American culture of materialism and greed, for the sake of equality and opportunity – okay. If I am called to stop the abuse of God’s creation and start taking care of the beautiful earth God’s given to humanity – okay. If I am called to use my gifts of teaching and singing and art to communicate the hope I’ve found in God – okay. If I am called to take my seminary education and use it to disciple others – okay. If I am called to claim my identity as a follower of Christ even when the media paints Christianity in an evil hue – okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
I’m ready to stand up for what is right. I’m ready to use the unique gifts God’s given me. I’m ready to be called shrewd and cunning and smart. But innocent too. A child of the light, working diligently even after hours, even in the dark to bring about the kingdom of God.
I choose to serve God.
Amen.
Rev. Ann Catherine Pittman
Bereseth
September 26, 2007
I do not understand this passage of scripture at all. I can’t even repeat to you what I said when I first read it. What a puzzling piece of literature. I can’t wrap my mind around it. I mean, I guess I get the “you can’t have two masters: god and money” part, but I don’t really get the rest. Especially the part that says, “for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.” Excuse me? Non-God-oriented-people are being praised for being shrewd? Children of light are being chided for not being shrewd? Perhaps Jesus referencing the “be shrewd as a snake and innocent as a dove” verse. I don’t know though, for he goes on to say, “Make friends for yourself by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.” Use means of dishonest wealth? HUH?
Eugene Peterson’s The Message version puts it much more gently. Instead of calling the manager shrewd, he calls him “streetwise.” In this version, Jesus admonishes the person of the light to “use every adversity to stimulate you to creative survival.” Okay, that sort of makes sense. But is that what Jesus is saying? I mean, how does, “use dishonest wealth” translate into “use adversity to survive creatively”?
I love Peterson, but this is a bit of a stretch for me.
Perhaps the story Jesus is telling is ironic. What if it’s supposed to be satirical of the Pharisees who constantly abuse money and are of course standing around listening to him? What if the story isn’t for the “people of the light” at all, but rather is a rhetorical devise designed to undercut the Pharisees?
In other words, “you, who take people’s land when they can’t offer a big enough bird at the Temple, let me tell you a story. Here’s a story to you who own plenty of wealth while your people suffer. Once upon a time there was a dishonest manager who was fired, but figured out a way to manipulate a financial situation to save his ass. That is a smart man, let me tell you! Freaking brilliant man of God, right there. Only those like him will enter the kingdom of heaven.” Do you hear the irony, the disapproval, the judgment imposed on the Pharisees?
Read verses 10 and following, “whoever is faithful in little is faithful in much. If you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust you to the true riches?” Were the Pharisees fair in the way they dealt with their people? Not always. Why then should the people look to the Pharisees for spiritual guidance?
On the other hand, this could be said of us too. Why should we be entrusted with things of eternal value when we don’t even use the little we’ve been given? After all, we don’t always appreciate the sunrise and sunset every day. We don’t always feed the poor when we have plenty in our refrigerators. We get tired of listening to our co-workers complain about their lives and we get tired of offering the hope we’ve found. We have too much to do in our daily lives to use our gifts to serve God outside of our jobs.
Look at us! We don’t always take advantage of the resources, the gifts God has given us! And so we are not shrewd, we are not street-smart to use our resources to do what is right in the world. We don’t choose to live resourcefully. And in that way, we’re no different than the “children of this age.”
But that doesn’t change the fact that we are “children of light.” Even if we do come dangerously close to behaving like the Pharisees some days, we are not called “children of the Pharisees;” we are called “children of God.” But we are also called to accountability. We do not serve the God of money, we serve the God of love. Though we may make money, we mustn’t love money. We must use it resourcefully and creatively to bring redemption to our world. And if we don’t make money, we must take what gifts we have been given to offer hope to broken people.
Of course, first we must acknowledge what we have been given…
The parable before this is on the prodigal son, or rather, the loving father. God, the father in the parable, gives the son all he has and of course the son runs away with it to live how he pleases. He doesn’t acknowledge the gifts he has been given. When he realizes how foolish and abusive he has been of his father’s love, he runs home repentant and sad. But the father is good and forgives him and offers him his very best again. So must we acknowledge what God has given us, all the good things he has provided for us. We must not take our gifts and our blessings and use them for our own good. Rather we must stand up, and living in God’s kingdom, we must use these provisions to provide for others.
If that’s what I am called to do – okay. If I am called to subversively manage to help others while using the gifts I have been given by God – okay. If I am called to go against my American culture of materialism and greed, for the sake of equality and opportunity – okay. If I am called to stop the abuse of God’s creation and start taking care of the beautiful earth God’s given to humanity – okay. If I am called to use my gifts of teaching and singing and art to communicate the hope I’ve found in God – okay. If I am called to take my seminary education and use it to disciple others – okay. If I am called to claim my identity as a follower of Christ even when the media paints Christianity in an evil hue – okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.
I’m ready to stand up for what is right. I’m ready to use the unique gifts God’s given me. I’m ready to be called shrewd and cunning and smart. But innocent too. A child of the light, working diligently even after hours, even in the dark to bring about the kingdom of God.
I choose to serve God.
Amen.
Rev. Ann Catherine Pittman
Bereseth
September 26, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Happy Birthday Mom!
60 years ago today my mother was born. 30 years ago today my mother found out she was pregnant. I'm sure nothing can compare to that birthday greeting, but from that baby growing in your womb thirty years ago, here's hoping this day and this year is your best year yet. I love you.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Jena 6
Maybe you pay more attention to the news than me, but I just learned about a case of segregation-era oppression happening today in Jena, Louisiana. It literally makes me sick at my stomach. So, I signed onto Color Of Change's campaign for justice in Jena, and want to invite you to do the same. The story as circulated by the NAACP and Snope's version of the story with updates is at Snopes.com Here's the version I heard...
Last fall in Jena, the day after two Black high school students sat beneath the "white tree" on their campus, nooses were hung from the tree. When the superintendent dismissed the nooses as a "prank," more Black students sat under the tree in protest. The District Attorney then came to the school accompanied by the town's police and demanded that the students end their protest, telling them, "I can be your best friend or your worst enemy... I can take away your lives with a stroke of my pen."
A series of white-on-black incidents of violence followed, and the DA did nothing. But when a white student was beaten up in a schoolyard fight, the DA responded by charging six black students with attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder.
It's a story that reads like one from the Jim Crow era, when judges, lawyers and all-white juries used the justice system to keep blacks in "their place." But it's happening today. The families of these young men are fighting back, but the story has gotten minimal press.
The noose-hanging incident and the DA's visit to the school set the stage for everything that followed. Racial tension escalated over the next couple of months, and on November 30, the main academic building of Jena High School was burned down in an unsolved fire. Later the same weekend, a black student was beaten up by white students at a party. The next day, black students at a convenience store were threatened by a young white man with a shotgun. They wrestled the gun from him and ran away. While no charges were filed against the white man, the students were later arrested for the theft of the gun.
That Monday at school, a white student, who had been a vocal supporter of the students who hung the nooses, taunted the black student who was beaten up at the off-campus party and allegedly called several black students "nigger." After lunch, he was knocked down, punched and kicked by black students. He was taken to the hospital, but was released and was well enough to go to a social event that evening.
Six Black Jena High students, Robert Bailey (17), Theo Shaw (17), Carwin Jones (18), Bryant Purvis (17), Mychal Bell (16) and an unidentified minor, were expelled from school, arrested and charged with second-degree attempted murder. The first trial ended last month, and Mychal Bell, who has been in prison since December, was convicted of aggravated battery and conspiracy to commit aggravated battery (both felonies) by an all-white jury in a trial where his public defender called no witnesses. During his trial, Mychal's parents were ordered not to speak to the media and the court prohibited protests from taking place near the courtroom or where the judge could see them.
The Jena Six are lucky to have parents and loved ones who are fighting tooth and nail to free them. They have been threatened but they are standing strong. We know that if the families have to go it alone, their sons will be a long time coming home. But if we act now, we can make a difference.
You can make a difference by demanding that Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco get involved to make sure that justice is served for EVERYONE by going to color of change
Racism is alive in America. White people, wake up! This is your battle too. An injustice done to an African American or a Caucasian is an injustice to ALL of us, no matter what our race. Humanity is humanity and we all deserve a shot at living a life where at the very least, in the courtroom, justice prevails and the punishment fits the crime. Life will not always be fair but we shouldn't expect our communities to function with nooses hanging from trees, schools being burned, youth being ignored or threatened by adults, and students being beaten. Do your part to end racism where you live. Speak the truth, stand up for those whose voice is not well heard, and live as though we were all created in the image of God. Because all we, God's children, were...
Last fall in Jena, the day after two Black high school students sat beneath the "white tree" on their campus, nooses were hung from the tree. When the superintendent dismissed the nooses as a "prank," more Black students sat under the tree in protest. The District Attorney then came to the school accompanied by the town's police and demanded that the students end their protest, telling them, "I can be your best friend or your worst enemy... I can take away your lives with a stroke of my pen."
A series of white-on-black incidents of violence followed, and the DA did nothing. But when a white student was beaten up in a schoolyard fight, the DA responded by charging six black students with attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder.
It's a story that reads like one from the Jim Crow era, when judges, lawyers and all-white juries used the justice system to keep blacks in "their place." But it's happening today. The families of these young men are fighting back, but the story has gotten minimal press.
The noose-hanging incident and the DA's visit to the school set the stage for everything that followed. Racial tension escalated over the next couple of months, and on November 30, the main academic building of Jena High School was burned down in an unsolved fire. Later the same weekend, a black student was beaten up by white students at a party. The next day, black students at a convenience store were threatened by a young white man with a shotgun. They wrestled the gun from him and ran away. While no charges were filed against the white man, the students were later arrested for the theft of the gun.
That Monday at school, a white student, who had been a vocal supporter of the students who hung the nooses, taunted the black student who was beaten up at the off-campus party and allegedly called several black students "nigger." After lunch, he was knocked down, punched and kicked by black students. He was taken to the hospital, but was released and was well enough to go to a social event that evening.
Six Black Jena High students, Robert Bailey (17), Theo Shaw (17), Carwin Jones (18), Bryant Purvis (17), Mychal Bell (16) and an unidentified minor, were expelled from school, arrested and charged with second-degree attempted murder. The first trial ended last month, and Mychal Bell, who has been in prison since December, was convicted of aggravated battery and conspiracy to commit aggravated battery (both felonies) by an all-white jury in a trial where his public defender called no witnesses. During his trial, Mychal's parents were ordered not to speak to the media and the court prohibited protests from taking place near the courtroom or where the judge could see them.
The Jena Six are lucky to have parents and loved ones who are fighting tooth and nail to free them. They have been threatened but they are standing strong. We know that if the families have to go it alone, their sons will be a long time coming home. But if we act now, we can make a difference.
You can make a difference by demanding that Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco get involved to make sure that justice is served for EVERYONE by going to color of change
Racism is alive in America. White people, wake up! This is your battle too. An injustice done to an African American or a Caucasian is an injustice to ALL of us, no matter what our race. Humanity is humanity and we all deserve a shot at living a life where at the very least, in the courtroom, justice prevails and the punishment fits the crime. Life will not always be fair but we shouldn't expect our communities to function with nooses hanging from trees, schools being burned, youth being ignored or threatened by adults, and students being beaten. Do your part to end racism where you live. Speak the truth, stand up for those whose voice is not well heard, and live as though we were all created in the image of God. Because all we, God's children, were...
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Vehicular Violations
I felt a little violated when I woke up this morning. It wasn't because I remembered that six years ago terrorists hijacked at least four planes and attempted to kill innocent people, destroy american morale and shock our government. It was because something was wrong with my front yard.
As I unlocked my car after having slept through my alarm and awakened late for work, I realized that my roommate's bike lock that she uses to lock up her two bikes was in my driveway and not wrapped around the bikes... and was it...? it was... snipped, clean through.
We were robbed.
I surveyed the area: my roommate had owned two bikes. There were still two bikes at the house (three counting mine). One i found in the backyard, the one with the flat tire that busted last month. It was leaning against the house next to my piece of crap bike which is locked in only by the giant weeds entangling it. The other bike was laying on the ground in the side yard where her two bikes had been locked to a pole.
I was confused, so i called her at work. No answer, but she promptly texted back. Ah the beauty of communicating undercover. "If you're calling about my bike, it was stolen. Will you put the blue one in the back yard for me?" "Um, sure." But why are there still two bikes at my house?
Later I came to realize that not only did someone steal my roommate's $350 bike, her bike headlights, bike basket and helmet, but he left his own bike in my front yard as a trade-in! Apparently, after spotting Melissa's bikes, taking both of them for a test drive and then choosing the bike with the non-flat tire, he decided hers was better than his and he swapped bikes! And of course took all of her accessories.
Ridiculous.
So now, inside my house in my roommate's room are her busted tire bike (cause she doesn't want to risk it being stolen too) and the thief's bike. Very strange.
Very strange to have lost something and yet be left with something of the person's who took it. A constant reminder of your loss.
I suppose she will take the bike to Good Will after the police look at it, but still, the thief's bike is in her bedroom. The perpetrator's possession is in the victim's possession.
I'm having trouble processing that.
As I unlocked my car after having slept through my alarm and awakened late for work, I realized that my roommate's bike lock that she uses to lock up her two bikes was in my driveway and not wrapped around the bikes... and was it...? it was... snipped, clean through.
We were robbed.
I surveyed the area: my roommate had owned two bikes. There were still two bikes at the house (three counting mine). One i found in the backyard, the one with the flat tire that busted last month. It was leaning against the house next to my piece of crap bike which is locked in only by the giant weeds entangling it. The other bike was laying on the ground in the side yard where her two bikes had been locked to a pole.
I was confused, so i called her at work. No answer, but she promptly texted back. Ah the beauty of communicating undercover. "If you're calling about my bike, it was stolen. Will you put the blue one in the back yard for me?" "Um, sure." But why are there still two bikes at my house?
Later I came to realize that not only did someone steal my roommate's $350 bike, her bike headlights, bike basket and helmet, but he left his own bike in my front yard as a trade-in! Apparently, after spotting Melissa's bikes, taking both of them for a test drive and then choosing the bike with the non-flat tire, he decided hers was better than his and he swapped bikes! And of course took all of her accessories.
Ridiculous.
So now, inside my house in my roommate's room are her busted tire bike (cause she doesn't want to risk it being stolen too) and the thief's bike. Very strange.
Very strange to have lost something and yet be left with something of the person's who took it. A constant reminder of your loss.
I suppose she will take the bike to Good Will after the police look at it, but still, the thief's bike is in her bedroom. The perpetrator's possession is in the victim's possession.
I'm having trouble processing that.
911
Love your enemies. It's a hard lesson on days like today.
Six years later we're still feeling empty, hopeful, angry and confused.
Six years later, we're still learning how to forgive.
Six years later we're still feeling empty, hopeful, angry and confused.
Six years later, we're still learning how to forgive.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Reflections on Luke 14:7-24
Yesterday as I sat in church, a giant of a man, mentally handicapped, sat behind me breathing so loudly, if I closed my eyes, it was easy to picture myself in a hospial with a respitory machine at my left shoulder... or maybe Darth Vader.
As Roger began preaching from the lectionary text, I heard a small voice coming from within the congregation. I looked at the woman sitting next to me and we smiled at each other, both recognizing and confirming the sound. It was a little girl, situated among the adults, so content with her placement that she was humming. Though I couldn't find her, I pictured her looking down at whatever picture she was drawing, or puzzle she was working, humming. Happily humming to herself.
The text was on the banqueting table, and never taking your place of honor, but remaining humble to be put in your place only by the host. Similarly, it was on who we invite to the feast, leaving the door open enough to not offer the easy invitations to our friends, the prestigious, the ones who make us look good, or the ones who are easy to be around. It is about being humble enough, comfortable enough with who we are, to acknowledge the least of these, those who really need to be at the banqueting table.
Roger said, if this doesn't make your stomach turn, you're either made it to true humility or you aren't processing what I've said. Invite the least.
I was sitting by Darth Vader and the humming child and I understood what he meant. And as I pictured in my mind the most difficult people it would be for me to invite to honor in my house, to shower a great feast upon, to spend time with, and as I lamented the thought, I was also struck by the beauty of where I was in that moment. I was a actually sitting by some people's least of these, and it was a beautiful picture of community.
I could tell that some people around the giant man whose breathing could be heard for pews and pews looked around with irritation. But others shook his hand and asked how his week had been. Some rolled their eyes at the little girl who never stopped humming, while others giggled and shrugged their shoulders. This was community. One another infringing on each other, overlapping the circles of our lives to join together before God.
The least of these and the greatest of these, all humbled before the cross, before communion, before the confirmation we receive as children of God. All ready to partake of the feast.
As Roger began preaching from the lectionary text, I heard a small voice coming from within the congregation. I looked at the woman sitting next to me and we smiled at each other, both recognizing and confirming the sound. It was a little girl, situated among the adults, so content with her placement that she was humming. Though I couldn't find her, I pictured her looking down at whatever picture she was drawing, or puzzle she was working, humming. Happily humming to herself.
The text was on the banqueting table, and never taking your place of honor, but remaining humble to be put in your place only by the host. Similarly, it was on who we invite to the feast, leaving the door open enough to not offer the easy invitations to our friends, the prestigious, the ones who make us look good, or the ones who are easy to be around. It is about being humble enough, comfortable enough with who we are, to acknowledge the least of these, those who really need to be at the banqueting table.
Roger said, if this doesn't make your stomach turn, you're either made it to true humility or you aren't processing what I've said. Invite the least.
I was sitting by Darth Vader and the humming child and I understood what he meant. And as I pictured in my mind the most difficult people it would be for me to invite to honor in my house, to shower a great feast upon, to spend time with, and as I lamented the thought, I was also struck by the beauty of where I was in that moment. I was a actually sitting by some people's least of these, and it was a beautiful picture of community.
I could tell that some people around the giant man whose breathing could be heard for pews and pews looked around with irritation. But others shook his hand and asked how his week had been. Some rolled their eyes at the little girl who never stopped humming, while others giggled and shrugged their shoulders. This was community. One another infringing on each other, overlapping the circles of our lives to join together before God.
The least of these and the greatest of these, all humbled before the cross, before communion, before the confirmation we receive as children of God. All ready to partake of the feast.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Ann is...
On facebook, the world's best networker, one's "status" is displayed as such, "Ann is..." and then you may fill in the blank. I like this feature, and moving beyond the "Ann is at home" or "Ann is at work," it's a fun way to communicate what you're thinking, doing, experiencing, etc.
So I thought I'd give the blogworld a taste. Ann is...
...relieved people only have to get tetnus shots once every ten years cause Ann can't even raise her left arm right now.
...thankful for Joe and Benjamin who chopped down a cherry tree in her front yard today. George Washington must've had a hell of a time doing it by himself.
...officially starting her new job as Minister to Young Adults and of Creative Discipleship today even though today is her day off. Startin' off strong!
...missing her sisters and wishing she could see them sooner than later.
...laying in bed with her computer and her cat after an exhausting day of watching boys labor in her yard for the mere price of an El Chilito lunch.
So I thought I'd give the blogworld a taste. Ann is...
...relieved people only have to get tetnus shots once every ten years cause Ann can't even raise her left arm right now.
...thankful for Joe and Benjamin who chopped down a cherry tree in her front yard today. George Washington must've had a hell of a time doing it by himself.
...officially starting her new job as Minister to Young Adults and of Creative Discipleship today even though today is her day off. Startin' off strong!
...missing her sisters and wishing she could see them sooner than later.
...laying in bed with her computer and her cat after an exhausting day of watching boys labor in her yard for the mere price of an El Chilito lunch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)