RIP WA

In the past month, three of my friends' fathers have passed away. Two of them I knew and dare I say, even loved a little. This morning one of my best friends from seminary, Big Phil, lost his dad to cancer. This is a picture taken at his brother Darrell's 50th birthday celebration in October. I love this family and I'm really grateful I got to participate in the celebration and see WA (who flew in from Alaska for the festivities) one last time.



Rest in Peace Wa.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

Yep, this is the play Trinity Street Players is doing this winter at FBC. Only instead of being in our Black Box Theater, it will be in the sanctuary. So there's no need for a reservation unless you've got a party of more than ten. If so, call it in and I'll rope you off a row.

The doors open half an hour before each performance with live music by Darrell Shepherd (Friday night), Cantamos directed by Louise Avant (Saturday night) and FBC's Youth Choir on Sunday. So come early, get your seats, find your friends and listen to some great music.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever was written by Barbara Robinson and is directed at First Baptist by B. Iden Payne Austin Theater Award Winner, Amy Downing.

There's only three performances so mark your calendars. Opening night is one week from tonight! Hope to see you there... Shazaam!

Okay Peeps, Let's Re-cap

So before I quit my blog and then unquit it, you may have noticed I hadn't been blogging much. So here's what was going on...

I threw yet another fabulous Halloween Party if I do say so myself (and I always do!). The costumes were yet again amazing. I went as Corpse Bride.
Can you see the resemblance? Laurel went as a monarch butterfly.
But my favorite costume was Bethany who went as Mother Earth and painted her whole bare stomach like a globe (albeit a backwards globe since she used a mirror).
It was awesome and we all had a great time.

Then came Thanksgiving and for the first time in NINE years I spent T-day with my (real) family in St. Jo Mo. I wrote about that experience too of course, but it's in my journal and not on here so sorry about that. Here's some pictures instead.
Yes my family is neurotic about all holidays. Even really boring ones like... Thanksgiving. And here's my placemarker for the dinner table pictured above.
Yes, it has sparkles on it. Which even I can admit is a little bit fantastic.

I participated (or rather opted out of participating and stayed inside Lowe's where it was warm) in the annual getting of the tree the day before Thanksgiving.
And I got to spend time with my grandma and grandpa which was the real reason I went home.
Grandma taught me how to make a baby blanket which is proving helpful considering my potential new line of work:

Being a doulah.

In November, I helped deliver my second baby. Well, not my baby, but the second birth I've participated in. While the first one back in June was short, sweet and to the point, (Laurel knows how to get things done), the second birth proved more of a chore. And so instead of snapping a few quick pics of parents and newborn, I actually got to help in the laboring process: holding hands, rubbing backs, holding up mom's upper body while she floated in the bathtub, you get the point. And it took forever. Lila (pronounced Lie-lah) was not interested in seeing what this new world has in store and took her sweet little time getting here. But what a sweetie she proved to be! But not cute enough to ever make me want to go through what her mommie went through. Dear God.

So that's baby number three in case you're counting. First Pete and Joy gave us Zoe. Then Chris and Michelle brought us Laurel and then Lila begrudgingly made her way into the world to Angela and Patrick's relief. And finally, Bethany and Gabe texted me the day before Thanksgiving that their little bundle of joy had arrived. So welcome to the world Tessla Meredith! I saw her when I returned from Missouri and loved all her dark hair!!
She looks like a little latino baby with her black hair and jaundiced skin. Too cute! But 5 and 6, we're still waiting on you guys. My last two besties of the year, Lynnette (and Sam) and Amy (and Grant) are due in January and February respectively. So I'll keep you posted on that.

If you think that might be too many best friends having too many babies for one single person to handle, you may be right, but I love them all anyway... :)

Visiting baby Tessla was the last relaxing and peaceful thing I did this week. After that came Advent, a time of waiting and contemplation of peace and meditation about the coming Christ for some... for me? Pure chaos. I've already worked 40 hours this week and I still have two work days left. I don't have a day off until December 19th. "Remind me next year to quit my job before Christmas starts," I told someone tonight as I arrived breathless to sing with my women's choir at a nursing home before running back to church to do an advent worship service. I had to hire someone to help me in my office today (yep, I won her help with cold hard cash) and the two of us put in 17 hours worth of work total. Seriously? Seriously. And thank god for Charlotte
(who went as Annie Potts from Ghostbusters for Halloween!) who gave her time to paint my stage for the play we're doing. GOD BLESS VOLUNTEERS. Char, you're the best. Thanks.

So there you have it. Holiday, Baby, Holiday, Baby, Grandparents, more babies and work work work. That's pretty much what you've missed out on.

I mean, I gave up boys... so how much drama could be left?

I lied.

Or maybe it's April Fool's Day.

Or maybe after talking to my therapist, I changed my mind. Who knows. But I'm back. That vay-cay was short lived and I'll post a little more in a little while perhaps with more details, but if not, know that I'm back. And I've been composing blogs in my head since I left you, so you're really in for it! Get ready!

And forgive me for leaving you. At least I didn't leave you for someone else! (Wordpress will never have me!)

Love,
anncpittman

Sorry Blog World

If anyone even ever comes here anymore, you can stop now cause this is my last blog :)

Done and done.

Thanks for the good times.

Peace out,
ann

33 Days and Counting

Tonight at dinner with Chris, Michelle and Laurel, another couple, probably in their mid-thirties, sat down at a table next to us with their 7 month old son.

Like mothers are wont to do, they introduced their children to one another.

You can probably imagine where this is going.

Laurel's eyes, when she finally found the baby boy we were trying to point out to her, got big and she stared at him and then at his mother and then back at him. The little boy, Colin, if he every saw Laurel, was unimpressed and soon pressing to be allowed on the table where he could bounce up and down and up and down and stare at the lights. Laurel just stared at him.

Typical.

Boys are clueless. Clueless.

"Laurel," I whispered across to her, "remember what we talked about. No boys til you're forty."

The other night, as a half-joke, someone asked me who I haven't dated.
"Tons of people," I replied.
"List them."
"Um... well... Peter, I never dated Peter. And Adam Asher. And Chris; I never dated Chris, either Chris. And... um. That's four. Hold on. There's more, just give me a second."

And here's the crazy thing. I'm not a whore. I know you're not supposed to say that word in a sermon and probably not on your blog, but I don't care. I'm not one. I've just dated A LOT of people.

And really, that's not my fault. I'm a girl. And when boys become infatuated with me, I think, gosh, why aren't you jumping up and down on a table? Why are you paying attention to me? And then I fall for it and agree to a date or two and it usually lasts a week or two and then the infatuation ends although I've yet to figure out why but it probably has something to do with me.

Again, not really my fault. It's not like I'm out seducing people. I didn't even kiss a boy til I was 18 years old. Can you believe it? And I didn't have my first boyfriend til the end of my first year in college! I've had two major relationships that both almost ended in marriage but instead just ended and two minor relationships that just seemed to cause a lot of heartbreak. And the rest, well, god, the list is a mile long of them, though I'm not sure why.

My sister and I were in a texting argument once and she ended it by saying, "Oh Ann, why don't you just go date someone."

Well that really pissed me off, but kind of made me laugh too cause that's my life. And I thought getting on EHarmony earlier this year would help end that process but it only made it worse. The dating just tripled in frequency and nothing came of it.

So after my last "talk on the phone for two months and then date for one week" fiasco, I swore off men. And as of today, I'm 33 days sober.

"But who's counting?" I told my acupuncturist today.
"You are apparently."

Sigh.

But I like it, I think... most of the time. Like when I went in to see said acupuncturist she asked how I was doing and I said, "Pretty good. Since I gave up men the only drama is at work." So that's kind of refreshing. Maybe my therapy bills will go down.

I doubt it.

"Are you experiencing any temptation?" a guy asked me tonight at a show. I'm not sure if he was fishing or what.
"Nope," I said, "I'm a very strong person you know."

And most of that sentence is true. There was the night my grandfather went into the hospital and I really just wanted someone to hold my hand or maybe run his hands through my hair to make me feel better, but other than that, it's been pretty easy and I'm definitely digging not having to worry about reading someone's signals or trying to figure out if so n so is going to ask me out on a second date or wondering if I look pretty in this shirt or just plain.

I think most of my friends are afraid I'm going to enter my man hating phase again or maybe become a lesbian (which would be a whole new set of difficulties), but I'm not.

I'm just on a break. Sobriety can be good for a person. And until I meet someone who just can't help confessing his love for me just as I am, the good and the bad, I'm not doing this anymore. If you won't man up men, then I'll do it for you. No more misbehaving. No more late night calls. No more casual dating. No more text flirting. No more "I'm just looking to hang out with a smart, attractive woman."

Cause I've got better things to do. And worrying about a man, isn't one of them. Go find some other girl to obsess over for a week and then dump her on the side of the road. Not me. Cause I'll be in the Toyota Corrola with the Cool People Care sticker on the back driving in the other direction.

33 Days. And counting.

Thirty-One and a Half

November 18: It's my Un-Birthday.

I Can't Help It, I Love These Guys... And Cats.

So I posted a video these two engineers made last year and couldn't resist posting this one too. I watched it twice straight through giggling the whole time. And my poor Potter couldn't figure out where the other cats were coming from. Thanks for the clip Ginger!

Scary Stories of the Bible II

If you want to read the story first, the text for 2 Kings 4:8-37 is here

***

The story takes place in a territory in northern Israel at the foot of the slopes of the Hill of Moreh. The town of Shunem was about15 miles away from where the prophet Elisha had a home, but just a few miles from Tabor where there was an Israelite Sanctuary.

This episode occurs during the reign of Jehoram (or Joram), second son of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, roughly 850 BC. From all indications, King Jehoram gave lip service to God, allowing Elisha freedom to preach and travel, while at the same time granting similar freedom to pagan religions. While he wasn’t as heinous as his infamous parents, I guess he just liked to keep his bases covered.

Like last week’s story, our hero is Elisha, a man of God, a prophet, but second only to him in this story is oddly enough a woman, a wealthy woman who invites town visitors into her home for meals and conversation. When she recognizes Elisha as a man of God, she persuades her husband to build Elisha a room on top of their house for whenever he passes through town. (Holy men were often put in rooms on top of homes to be kept free from the profane and mundane rituals of the household).

The Rabbis who read this ancient text praise the hospitality of the Shunammite woman and learn from her conduct that everyone should bring a Torah scholar into their house, give him food and drink and let him enjoy all that they possess. The Shunammite woman is mentioned by the midrash as one of the twenty-three truly upright and righteous women who came forth from Israel.

The woman’s name is not given, but she is described as “a great woman.” In Hebrew, the word translated “great” in the KJV and “well-to-do” in the NIV has several nuances of meaning, wealthy being only one of them. This description was used of Abraham in Genesis 24 and is often used to describe an attribute of God. Being great included character and influence. Even though her husband was generous, the wealth belonged to him and his male heirs. Her greatness in the eyes of God and the prophet Elisha was not dependent on her economic status. Her wealth gave her the means to support Elisha’s ministry. It was her kindness and generosity that made her great as well as her continual worship of God.

Pretty cool! We like strong women here!

So Elisha accepts this giving woman’s hospitality and as a blessing to her asks her what she would like to receive from God. Insisting that she has all she needs, yet another noble attribute of contentment and humility, Elisha eventually learns that this rich old woman is barren and gives her the gift of a child.

Reminiscent of Sarah and Hannah and Elizabeth, this unnamed and barren but remarkable woman gives birth, of course, to a son.

Some years later though and while the details are scanty, most commentators suppose the child falls victim to sunstroke, a heatstroke caused by direct exposure to the sun. Out in a field of grain, the boy must not have had any protection from the intense rays of the Mediterranean sun. Being a child, he succumbs quickly, feeling the first symptom as a massive headache before fainting.

When her husband sends the complaining child in from the fields, the Sunnammite woman feeds him and nurses him. But when the child dies in her arms, the she lays him in Elisha’s bed in the back of her house and leaves on her donkey hollering back to her husband that she has to go see Elisha immediately, and is off… 15 miles to go.

Elisha spots her from some distance and sends his scoundrel of a servant, Gehazi to go check on her. Now Gehazi was probably Elisha’s assistant like Elisha had been to Elijah, but unfortunately Gehazi lacks the integrity and spirit of his forerunners. We learn about his misdealings in the next chapter and what his envy for Naaman’s money makes him do. But Gehazi doesn’t come off so well in this story either.

Gehazi reports back to Elisha that the old woman is fine, but when she finally reaches Elisha, she clasps his feet in a true sign of submission and desperation. Gehazi steps forward to push her away from his master. Interestingly, the midrash understands “le-hodfah” or “push away” as an abbreviation of two Hebrew words meaning the “majesty of her beauty,” and surmises from this that when Gehazi went to rebuff the Shunammite woman, he pushed the majesty of her beauty, that is, between her breasts. The Rabbis observe that although Elisha was extremely careful in sexual matters, Gehazi acted differently. Although the latter was a man of great Torah scholarship, he had several shortcomings including licentious behavior.

But as the narrator in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever says of those rascally Herdmans, “And that’s not all,” the midrash has a few other stories to tell on Gehazi.

Like, he did not believe in the resurrection of the dead.

Elisha took his staff and instructed Gehazi: Go and place the staff on the face of the boy, that he may live, but say nothing on the way. According to Jewish tradition, Gehazi thought that Elisha was sporting with him, and he did not do as the prophet had told him. On his own initiative, Gehazi turned to everyone he met along the way and asked them: “Do you believe that this staff can resurrect the dead?” I picture him kind of like Wormtail in Harry Potter, scurrying around doing what his master tells him to all the while thinking he’s all that and a bag of chips when he’s just not. According to another tradition, when someone met him on the way and asked him: “From where have you come and to where are you going?” he would reply: “I am going to resurrect the dead!” Consequently, when he came to the son of the Shunammite woman, his efforts were for naught. And so it is Elisha who must come to the boy in his room. Elisha lay upon the dead child and placed his mouth on the boy’s mouth and his eyes on the boy’s) eyes, and began to pray to God. True to the ancestry of Elijah his mentor, through the Spirit of God Elisha brings the dead boy back to life.

What?

I don’t even want to go there. It’s very strange. The whole story reminds me of my friend Frank who had cancer and went to a Chinese doctor in Illinois to have him lay hands on his salivary glands or something. This guy, who also works with the Chicago Bulls I think, had a dead fish in his fish tank and when he secretary buzzed back to tell him that Frank was in the office, she also mentioned the unfortunate predicament of the fish. Not to worry. That little doctor of Eastern medicine came out and scooped the fish out of the fish tank and put him in his hands and blew on him and I’ll be darned if that fish didn’t come back to life. Frank was standing right there watching!

Thankfully he healed my friend Franks glands too, but I think you get my point.

Our Halloween story about a dead boy suddenly turns into something straight out of A Chinese Ghost Story or something.

I mean it’s weird. Lay on the boy and transfer God’s Spirit or your qi (chi) or whatever and the kid comes back to life?

Man, sometimes God calls us to do some pretty scary things.

Sometimes we live up to the challenge, like Elisha. Through us God is able to do some amazing things. You should have heard the testimony last night of Caroline Boudreaux who started the Miracle Foundation for orphans in India. One woman has brought so many dead and empty children back to life; she even puts Elisha to shame. You can change the world if you follow God’s call!

But other times we end up doing our own little cowardly dance like Gehazi, very Gollum-esque, tossing God’s call back and forth across our tongues deliberating what to do, and from one hand to the other, weighing the idea of where following God might get us and what it might demand of us.

“Open your door to God,” Preacher Will Willimon writes, “O.K. Just remember: this is a real God, not some make-believe image of ourselves, not some tame deity you can have over for a chat. Break bread at the table of the living God, you don't know how you'll be surprised.”

The Shunammite woman opened her home to a holy man and look what happened to her life. A holy friendship, a son, a death a resuscitation, and as we read earlier in the service, eventually an evacuation from the town due to famine and upon returning seven years later receiving all her land back full fold.

Imagine what would happen if we opened up our hearts.

Anne From A Window

I love Anne Frank and always have since I played her in The Diary of Anne Frank on the stage of the Missouri Theater seventeen or so years ago. Here's a lovely article on the only video footage we have of Anne and of what it means to be one who looks out windows...

A Post You Must Read (especially if you know women or have heard of the church)

Please please please go read this blog posted by an Emergent Methodist named Jessica. it's hilarious and discouraging and awesome.

Here's my favorite quote...

"In implying that women should accept discursive erasure of their spiritual experiences in order to be liberated, those outside of church are performing the exact same violence that those inside the church have been doing for centuries. Guess what? Y’all both need to knock it off."

Beresheth Sermon: Scary Stories of the Bible Part 1

“Do you have any inspirational quotes about dead people… specifically zombies?” I hollered over to my colleague and fellow minister across the hall.

Because here I am on October 22, 2009 with Halloween right around the corner (hurray!) writing a sermon on a topic my Beresheth team suggested I do called Scary Stories of the Bible, where in worship we use texts commonly left out of the lectionary and quite frankly, out of church.

I know I’d never studied this story.

But while researching the Lazarus story in the New Testament where Jesus waits four days and then brings poor, dead Lazarus back to life, one of the commentaries I was reading emphasized the difference between resuscitation and resurrection.

Resuscitation: being brought back to life, Resurrection: being given new life.

Cool. I thought. What other resuscitation texts are in the Bible? So I did a little research and found two more. One of which we just read. And in case you blinked and missed it, let me reread it for you…

"So Elisha died, and they buried him. Now bands of Moabites used to invade the land in the spring of the year. As a man was being buried, a marauding band was seen and the man was thrown into the grave of Elisha; as soon as the man touched the bones of Elisha, he came to life and stood on his feet."

Riight.

Maybe if I retell the story in my own words it will sound better: A man dies. His body is on the way to the cemetery and suddenly some bullies or a gang or some outlaws show up and in a panic the mourners throw the corpse into the nearest grave where it happens to land on Elisha’s bones and magically comes back to life. The man got up and crawled out of the grave, alive.

That is NOT better.

So I did some research.

Turns out that occasionally funeral rituals included a pilgrimage to the grave of someone important or inspirational. Thus the proximity to Elisha’s grave. Additionally, miraculous things happening at someone’s gravesite is actually common in hagiography, or in the study of saints. Yep, the Catholic church would call Elisha a Saint. I guess all the prophets were. And this story definitely shows up in Elisha’s hagiology.

But who was Elisha?

Elisha was a prophet to the Northern Kingdom during the reigns of Kings Ahaziah, Johoram, Jehu, Jehoahaz, and Jehoash. The Nothern Kingdom was called Israel which was sometimes at peace and sometimes at war with it’s fellow God-fearers in the Southern Kingdom, called Judah. These two kingdoms came about when after King Saul, King David, and King Solomon there was a civil war of sorts and of course, the country split into two kingdoms, the northern and southern, Israel and Judah. And so the time of Kings Saul, David and Solomon is called the United Kingdom and the time of Kind Jeroboam, Rehoboam and the 38 others who ruled either Israel or Judah is called the time of the Divided Kingdom.

Elisha is one of the prophets during this time of the divided kingdom who was led to power through his mentor, the famous EliJah. Elijah was a great prophet who did many wondrous miracles like calling fire out of the sky which promptly burned up a completely drenched pile of firewood. Elijah spoke God’s truth of compassion and honest worship against the evil King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. He’s also the prophet who didn’t die, yep, another spooky story worthy of a campfire and a bunch of scared little kids, but rather was taken up by a great whirlwind into the sky, never to be seen again.

Elisha is his appointed successor and true to Elijah’s memory, Elisha too performs great miracles and speaks out against unrighteous kings. Thus, “Elijah lives on in the ministry of Elisha; Elisha is Elijah one more time, larger than life.” Indeed, such is the power of God in Elijah and Elisha’s memory that when a corpse even touches the bones of the deceased Elisha, the corpse comes back to life.

And now here we are, sitting in worship, wondering how in the world the story of some Zombie has any effect on our life or our faith.

And it’s not like the writer of 2 Kings gives us any help on the matter. He simply tells the story about as matter of factly as can be. I mean, I would have given it a little more substance, a little more pizzazz. I would have described what it felt like landing on the bones in the grave. I would have described the dead man receiving air into his lungs again, his dried blood suddenly warming up and coursing through his veins again. I would have described his shriek of surprise and the look on his friends faces as they began screaming and running away when he came waddling out of the tomb trying to untangle himself from the mummy rags.

But I also just got done watching Zombieland last week.

Obviously, the writer of 2 Kings didn’t. The facts are there, they’re stated and the story is over. (And when he man comes back to life he probably returns to eating hummus and hallah, not brains and humans.)

And scholars say this is intentional: “it is important to note that the narrator does not linger on the ‘miraculous’ but presents each occasion in almost matter-of-fact terms…The reader is thereby pushed away from focusing on the spectacular in itself and asked to discern the theological and religious import of what is being stated.”

So what’s being stated? What’s the point of Zombieland, I mean, verses 20-22? What theological wisdom can be gained from this scary story of the Bible?

Quite frankly, it’s that God is powerful. And God doesn’t just act in religious settings. God acts in every area of Israel’s life.

Did you know while all the prophets of the Old Testament warned the Kings and people that God did not like the way they were treating their neighbors and enemies, while they warned that justice would flow like a mighty fountain and that it would flow against God’s people. While all this was happening, despite the King’s or the people’s unrighteousness, God continued to work on Israel’s behalf. Indeed in chapters 13-14 of 2 Kings, “god acts on behalf of the faithless Israel… God’s compassion and promises continue to shape Israel’s life in the midst of its evil ways.”

In other words, “the most fundamental witness of [the Elijah and Elisha] stories is that Israel’s God makes true life possible in every sphere.” Even in politics. Even in relationships. Even in schools. Even in churches and synagogues. Even in war… Even in the graveyard.

And I guess that is good news.

Because we all have our fair share of faithlessness. We all experience times when we abandon faith for societies’ whims. We all choose coping mechanisms over prayer and perseverance. We all choose to be selfish rather than compassionate. We all choose to judge when we should offer grace. We all choose death when we should be choosing life. And God is faithful to us despite us. There’s always hope for new life… even if you’re dead as a doornail. And while maybe God isn’t going to resuscitate you after you’ve passed on, plenty of us feel dead enough inside that we could use a breathe of fresh air, of God’s air, of God’s spirit, waking us up inside.

And that may be the scariest part yet, letting go of ourselves enough to let God’s life take over. This is America and we like to be the best, look the best, know the most and accomplish the most whether that’s our success in academia, success in the business world, doing the most at church or downing the most at our favorite bar. To let go of our need to be in control and instead live by faith, to let go of our cynicism and live by hope, to let go of our fear and live with intellectual and emotional integrity… that is to receive life. Life that is waiting for us no matter what we do and who we are.

Life is always available if we’d just be willing to take it. I just hope we don’t get so far gone that we have to fall into a dead man’s grave to wake up to that.

My Mom Has No Arms or Legs: One Family's Journey

Gross

Nope, this is not a joke, this was real advertising. Check out the article about digitally altered advertising here. Obviously I think this is wrong, wrong and wrong.

A Bad Day

The Beatitudes

Almost Famous

"Hollywood, come and get me Hollywood," floated through my head all day (kudos to whomever catches this movie reference.)

Yep, Hollywood bound we were. And after a twenty minute drive, we were there, walking the stars, sizing our hands and avoiding all the people dressed up like famous characters. (Zorro practically accosted me).

We went to the Graumann's Chinese Theater where lots of stars' hand prints and footprints and cigars (Woody Allen) and dreadlocks (Whoopi Goldberg) and even a pistol (I can't remember whose) are saved in cement. My favorite print of the day was of course Judy Garland who, alongside her daughter, was an amazing singer and actress.



After we walked the block and mused at all the (literal) stars on the pavement with names etched in gold, (some real - Jeff Bridges and some not real - Mickey Mouse) and after I got startled after running into Samuel L. Jackson outside the house of wax (damn those statues look real) we decided to go back to the Movie Palace and actually watch a movie. We were in luck as Zombieland was just about to start, so we bought tickets and popcorn and took our seats.



Unfortunately, it's October, which means it's almost Halloween. Now, you will rarely ever hear me say the words "unfortunately" and "Halloween" in the same sentence, but on this occasion, it meant that I had to watch the previews for the four scariest movies coming out around Halloween and since I hate horror and scary movies, this was traumatizing.

It did set us up for the gruesomeness that was the Zombies storming the beginning of the movie, Zombieland, but after the first twenty minutes when the plot finally became more character driven, I emerged from underneath my ball cap and actually was able to watch most of the film. It was hilarious and had an amazing cameo in the middle of it. Don't worry, I won't tell who and spoil it for you.

To end the day we ate at a diner where of course I had to order a chocolate malt.



Yum! What a perfect ending to a perfect day. "In fact," I told my friend as we drove home, "I wouldn't mind moving out here to become a famous movie star."

I suppose I'll have to settle for being called beautiful by some black guy dressed up as Zorro outside a movie palace in Hollywood before he moved on to his next panhandling mission.

Almost Famous. Figures.

My San Diego Zoo Experience

THE ZOO.

Was...

Different.

It was cool. Don't get me wrong. But it was weird too.

Like, how many zoos are so big that you can't tour it all in one day (or at least five hours)? And how many zoos have a bus AND an express bus that tour the grounds? And how many zoos are so complicated and with maps so insufficient that one can get LOST for an HOUR in ONE section of the zoo.

Damn those monkey trails. I never want to see another monkey again.

Y'all seriously. And we finally determined that up in elevation was actually down on the map which was eventually helpful. But not before it was 2pm and we still hadn't found the restaurant we were trying to get to.

Despite the episode of Lost that we were apparently being filmed in anonymously, some of those animals were AWESOME.

For example, there was a POLAR BEAR. What? And he was playing in the pool when we rode the Bus (but not the Express Bus) around the zoo. So we stopped to watch a minute and he was hilarious tossing his ball around the water and splashing around.



Unfortunately when we were viewing him later through the glass up close and personal, he was having some sort of personal problems He kept walking to the corner of a small covering like a hut, walking directly into the same right corner, then would take six steps backward diagonal left, swinging his head from side to side. Over and over he did this same movement. Like he had Tourette's or was performing a not so sacred rain dance. We stood there captivated though, watching the same thing over and over again because, well, he was a Polar Bear. And that was pretty amazing.

"Sorry we're destroying your habitat," I called out to him as we left.

And even better than the polar bear was the lion. And maybe it's because I'm reading through the Chronicles of Narnia right now so I'm a little biased in fondness for giant cats, but I checked with the others and they agreed, the Lion was the best. Because we were (maybe) ten feet away and he was sitting there chewing on a bone (a big one) like Sophie or Janie. It was amazing.



No wonder they're the kings of all the animals.

Other than that, there was a very cool flourescent yellow snake, some lame pandas whom the park totally talked up but who were actually in these small habitats sleeping in such positions that you couldn't even see their faces, and about a million bajillion deer of a thousand different varieties. "Probably to feed the lions," Amy determined.

So, back to the bus. The original bus, not the express mind you, although the express bus looks just like the tour bus only it has "Express" written on a green sign across the front of it.



This is Amy and I on the bus, the original bus. Not the express bus. Which was fun and a great way to tour the park in 45 minutes. Except the original bus tour was obsessed with the express bus and Brent and Amy couldn't tell you how many times the driver reminded us of "the express bus that looks just like this bus but with the word Express across the front on a green sign."

That became the butt of many jokes.

So at the end of the day, when we were tired, we decided to take the Express bus back to the entrance/exit of the park.

So we waited. And waited. And waited. And finally when I was about ready to pull my hair out (because the zoo was about to close and I hadn't bought my fuzzy stuffed animal yet), it showed up. Green sign and all. So we boarded, rode a few minutes and then it stopped. "Now this is Panda Canyon, and if you want to exit the zoo you go up the moving walkway, to the tower and take a right," the express bus driver announced.

So we got off. And you get one guess as to where we were.

Monkey Trails.

That bus had NOT taken us to the exit, but as Brent figured out, had taken us from the far east side of the 100 acre zoo back north (up on the map but down in elevation). And of course in true dysfunctional map and bus form, they called this drop off spot the exit. And so we walked and walked and walked to the exit. And as soon as I bought a stuffed Lion, we left.

Goodbye Polar Bear, goodbye Lion, goodbye Express Bus.

Protecting the Insurers!

Protect Insurance Companies PSA from Will Ferrell

Beresheth Sermon: 10 Bridesmaids

Text: Matthew 25:1-13

Oh this parable. It’s a good one isn’t it? You can see all the bridesmaids, waiting around for the bride and groom to show up. They’ve got their lamps or their flowers or whatever is appropriate for a bridesmaid to hold for the age the story is told. And they’re hanging out expecting the happy couple to arrive any minute, but they don’t. And like excited girls at any sleepover, the bridesmaids fall asleep. But they awaken to discover the bridegroom is approaching. They smooth their skirts, pat their hair, pad their bras and suddenly discover that five of them don’t have enough oil to keep their lamps lit.

“Give us some of your oil!” Five bridesmaids beg of the five other girls. “No way, they say, buy your own.” And the unlucky bridesmaids scurry to the store to grab some more oil. And of course, while they are gone, the groom comes, invites the five remaining into the wedding hall and shuts the door.

The five girls return with fresh oil and lamps burning but when they beg of the groom to be let inside to which he replies, “Yeah, sorry, not sure I recognize you.” And the door remains shut.

I actually hate this parable. Why do you need a burning lamp to get into a wedding anyway? And what’s up with the five stingy bridesmaids? Surely the gospel teaches us to share. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? And then there’s the groom. He doesn’t recognize them because they’re late to the party? I mean, better late than never right? Doesn’t Jesus remember telling the story of the Prodigal Son?!

So I read before this parable in Matthew chapter 24 to see if I could get any insight.

Well, we’ve got the destruction of the Temple in addition to wars, famine, and earthquakes. Then we’ve got faithful followers persecuted and false prophets running rampant. There’s also desolating sacrilege and vultures eating corpses. Then comes the story of Jesus and the trumpet trio, not to mention some mighty winds. After that a story about some guy getting plucked up out of a field and a cruel slave who gets cut up into pieces and of course some good old weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Helpful. Maybe I’m liking this bridesmaid story more and more.

Okay, so what comes after this parable? What does the rest of Chapter 25 say?

Next is the parable of the talents and the guy who saves his master’s money by burying it and then returns it to him as it was and gets reprimanded for not monopolizing on the opportunity. Then we get some sheep and goats and left hands and right hands and finally we find out that anytime we saw someone hungry and gave him food, or thirsty and gave her something to drink… anytime we saw a stranger and welcomed him, or someone naked and gave her clothing… or when we saw a sick person or someone in prison and visited them we were doing the same for Jesus. And maybe finally we can begin to make sense of these parables.

It’s important to remember as we read passages like Matthew 24 and 25 or any of Jesus’ parables, that we are not reading a systematized theology. Just as that goofball wrote his Left Behind series so could someone easily write the A New Creation series or the I Shall Draw All People Unto Myself series or The Great Divorce. Oh wait. C.S. Lewis already did that one.

My point is that this is a story. And just as soon as Jesus says, “you will know the time has come because of war and famine,” so in the next breathe he says, “no one will know the time it will come like a thief in the night.” The word eschatology means the study of the end times or of the final things, and a theology of eschatology deducted from these chapters would be hard to pin down. In fact, the most tangible word Jesus actually gives us in these stories comes to us at the end of chapter 25.

Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the imprisoned, hang out with the sick, refresh the thirsty, welcome the visitors. And finally I think. Okay, I don’t know about oil in my lamp, but I can do these other things.

In fact, I can do them now.

And suddenly we move from a theoretical eschatology to a realized eschatology.

In other words, ushering in the Kingdom of God was something that Jesus and the disciples did in their own lives before Jesus’ death and resurrection and after. And ushering in the kingdom of God is something the Holy Spirit continues to do on earth amongst us and indeed through us right now! Thus, if we are to celebrate the death and resurrection of God here on earth and live life abundantly, if we’re gathered to celebrate the wedding, we have to keep our lights shining, our lamps burning and our neighbors taken care of.

We need to be a city on a hill as a testimony to God’s love and mercy. We need to be salt that irritates the wounding sin of injustice in the world. We need to be faithful to wait expectantly for the bridegroom and active in preparing for his arrival. For just as he returned to the disciples in his resurrection, so one day will we be resurrected along with all creation indeed the entire universe to a new life fully realized with God.

For the end of the night is not the time to run off to attend church or to write a check to the Red Cross or drive down and feed a couple of people at the Soup Kitchen. At the end of the night if you’ve missed living fully in God’s abundant love and justice, you don’t want to miss the bridegroom. Don’t go running off to make last minute amends. Wait expectantly for God whether you’re a child on a playground, a college student in classes or a thief hanging on the cross. When God is among us it’s not the right time to try and usher in God’s kingdom. Rather, it’s time to meet the King.

Amen.