Being present

A few of us from our campus ministry group had a border emersion experience this past week. On Tuesday we drove to Douglas and participated in the weekly prayer vigil, remembering the over 300 people that have died in Cochise County since 2000 trying to cross the border into the US.

As we walk along a mile stretch leading up to the border each person holds up a cross, speaks the name of the deceased and says “presente” or you are present and we remember you. As the line of persons praying walks by you lay your cross on the curb and continue walking to the border repeating the names until all the crosses line the street. At the border Pastor Marc Adams, the Presbyterian border missioner, led the devotion. The hour-long vigil is a moving experience.

That night we had dinner with four migrants at the Catholic Church in Aqua Prieta. The parishioners from the Church cook a meal every night for whoever shows up. If the people need a place to spend the night the church has beds set up for them.

We listened to these men’s stories. They were simply looking for work. Hoping to find some way of taking care of their family. They had heard that they could pick tomatoes near Aqua Prieta. One man had ridden his bike over 3500 hundred kilometers in 59 days hoping to find work. Their stories were filled with compassion and pain. All they wanted was to be treated with some dignity by being given a chance to work. They weren’t looking for any handouts. They don’t need anyone to take care of them. They just want to work.

On Wednesday we traveled across the border again into Aqua Prieta where we visited two projects that are designed to give people in Mexico a chance to control their own destinies and to stay in Mexico.

“Café Justo” or Just Coffee is an agricultural cooperative of farmers from Chiapas in southern Mexico. Once the coffee beans are harvested they are shipped to Aqua Prieta where Café Justo roasts the coffee, packages it and then ships to customers in the US. The five-year old project is a success because the middleman is eliminated and the farmers are paid a fair price for their coffee. Everyone benefits.

For lunch we visited PermaCulture, the vision of founder Jose Gonzalez. We ate the best chili reinos I’ve ever tasted. The homegrown chilies were stuffed with chiuaua (Chihuahua), Mennonite cheese. The flavor was earthy and rich. The only thing that could have made the meal better was a cold bottle of Dos XX. We had to settle for soda instead.

Jose shared his vision of creating a place where people could grow their own vegetables; do wood working, do marketable sewing, and other creative crafts. His vision is to teach people to be self-sustaining. His vision is to change the culture of poor that live in Aqua Prieta.

Jose spoke through our interpreter. We needed the interpreter not Jose. He understood what we said and knew much more English than the four of us knew Spanish. But I didn’t need the interpreter to be swept up in the charisma of this man vision. Jose was fully present to us as he communicated more than a dream or a hope – he was glowing with vision.

It was in this moment that I got of glimpse of my relationship with God. I pray that God hears me and knows what I say. I pray for the confidence to trust that God hears me. But I struggle with hearing and understanding the words of God. However, the vision of God is communicated by the power of God’s presence. For a moment, God was present, communicating a new vision to me.

When I hear the gospel of John this morning I am struck how the work of resurrection seems impossible for the world to understand. The work of resurrection, the rebuilding of the Temple that the world has torn down, is so hard. It has taken the community 46 years and they still haven’t finished with the Temple. Jesus statement that he will rebuild, resurrect, the Temple in three days seems preposterous.

But the vision of God always seems outlandish – totally impossible. The work of resurrection is a vision for rebuilding the lives of the suffering. That’s what Jesus is showing us – resurrection work, a rebuilding of the dignity of human life is always possible – even in the face of disbelief. That’s Jose’s vision as well.

Taking the suffering world off the cross of despair and offering them hope – that is the work of resurrection.

Sometimes when I start thinking about the big issues of the world, like immigration, I get overwhelmed, almost frozen. I ask myself, what can I possibly do to solve this problem? But then I remember the words of Jesus, feed the hungry and clothe the naked.

So, our group took jeans, shoes, jackets, socks, medical supplies and money to the migrant center in Naco. And these items of mercy were being given to men sitting at the center hoping and praying to find their sister. Instead of being deported, she was randomly chosen and arrested, awaiting prosecution. The men hoped against hope that she would be deported. But, they had no idea.

I believe we are called to join Jesus in resurrection work – rebuilding the community – one pair of jeans, one bottle of water, one can of food, and one handshake at a time.

The demon of fear

My heart is breaking over the destructive slashes to our universities, public education and services to the poor. Our State legislature is acting out of fear. They are afraid to raise your taxes because they are afraid you want re-elect them and if you don't re-elect them they are afraid someone else will be in control - the biggest fear of all, losing control.

And what has their fear driven them to do - when they gutted education and social services - they have given more money to Sheriff Joe? Why? Because they are afraid - or they think you are afraid - actually they think you will love them because the toughest sheriff still lurking the earth is so popular - more votes.

Stop the cycle of fear! Call your representatives and cast out the demon of fear - or at least those in power. And pray for Sheriff Joe; I don't know what else to do.

The special day of inspiration

Thankfully today has been a day that many of us can proclaim that we are proud to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, including our country. President Obama's inauguration speech caused us to pause, reflect, re-commit and dedicate ourselves to the common good.

This is also a day to remember those who have displayed courage in the face of oppression and great opposition - and while I could recall historic moments and defining characters, all that has meaning to me is those who have personally touch my life.

Clyde Cunningham's family was the first African-Americans to live on the block. Clyde was straight forward, kind, gentle, at times unsure, and always a friend.

Dick Davis, from Compton "crime capital of the world" he always said, taught me that different backgrounds, families and cultures meant nothing when as teenage
professional baseball players we talked about the fear of failure and the expectations to excel.

John Shumate, former Notre Dame and Phoenix Sun star, came to Grand Canyon University as its first African-American coach and in spite of outright racism thrust his way, he stayed true to himself and his players. He taught us all that courage means being honest.

Leighten McCray, the next African-American basketball coach at GCU, taught me that taking risk on your players entrusted them to their own obligations.

Dr. Barbara Dickerson continues to hold education as the most meaningful way to teach us to love one another in a common goal.

Janet Beason and John Saunders have taught me that the Church is the place where we gather to worship the God who loves us as one.

Judith Conley has taught me it takes continued courage in the twenty-first century because, sadly, racism still exists in our world, country, state and town. She and her husband are truly strong and inspiring people.

Mr. President you have my daily prayers, support and admiration. May God be Present to you in a way that you know God's power throughout each day. Thank you for your courage and inspiration.

Community supports those in need

Thanks to all who supported St. Brigid's Community in the collecting of food and clothing for the homeless today, the celebration of Martin Luther King's life. St. Brigid's Community collected over 1000 pounds of food and nearly 500 pounds of clothes. That's a hell of lot of clothes and food that will go to care for those in need. The majority of the items will go either IHELP, the Tempe Interfaith group to which we belong that feeds and houses the homeless or to St. Matthew's Crossing that provides food for those in need. Some food also will be distributed by St. Augustine's for those who come to our door daily seeking assistance.

Blessings to all who volunteered and all who donated. Truly we have come together to form community and to serve the community.

Sticking it out

Congratulations to the Arizona Cardinals for winning the NFC and heading to the Super Bowl! Wow, just plain awesome. The best part is to watch the tears of the players who have suffered through the really bad years and now can enjoy along with young and new players the bliss of hard fought victory against many odds.

And to the fans, especially Chris and Eddie, you guys have been there with the Cardinals from the beginning. You have suffered with your team and you have never given up on them. You deserve to be honored along with the team. To the Bidwells you have endured. And to the City of Glendale, you deserve congratulations for your risk and sacrifice - thanks for bringing something so awesome to the great West Valley.

Why? Ok I know the answer I guess

Rick Warren has formed "solidarity" with dissident Episcopal parishes

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79901_104218_ENG_HTM.htm

Why? OK, I guess I know the answer, it's apparent that he's homophobic and must be a Biblical literalist - of course he is a Southern Baptist, something he doesn't publicize, but that's the world he lives in - too bad President-elect Obama didn't invite Bishop Gene Robinson and Rick Warren to pray on the same podium. Curious question, I wonder if Warren would have been willing to pray on the same platform with the Bishop? I doubt it.

Well, I stand in solidarity with our sisters and brothers who are denied access to the Lord's Table in Rick Warren's church and that of the parishes who have chosen to walk apart from the Episcopal Church who include and provide open access to the Church to all who will walk the Way and even those who know nothing of the Way. Rick Warren is welcomed to the Lord Table's in our community - would our brothers and sisters be in his?

Clouds

Spent the last few days in Seattle with our daughter and her fiance. It's been a wonderful experience. The laughter, food, and friendship has been heartening.

The weather has been normal for Seattle, cloudy, rainy and windy - pretty normal stuff; except that being from the Valley of Sun where you can't get away from the sun - this is awesome. Most people talk about how depressing it is to live without seeing the sun and I'm sure that's the case. But try living where the sun hunts you down everyday, all day, never a relief from the heat and bright light, like living in Alaska in the summer of the midnight sun - life without darkness, yes, life without clouds can alter the mood of the soul in an equally troubling way as a life without the shining sun. Why? Not sure. Variety, I would guess is needed on every pilgrimage.

And of course, the weather here reminds me of Ireland, the 40 shades of green. I took a long walk yesterday and was transported to my walk across Ireland, gotta do that again soon. I find that soulful sacred places, for me anyway, are often those that include cloud, rain and good pubs (found some in Seattle).

Traveling soul-scape blessed nurture found resting in this body's need for cool relief.

The Religious Case for Gay Marriage

Since we're on the subject, have you read the cover story for Newsweek December 15? "The Religious Case for Gay Marriage: Our Mutual Joy" by Lisa Miller is an excellent and well written essay by someone who has obviously done quiet a bit of research. She writes from a liberated biblical perspective that is refreshing. Without condemning those who disagree with her, she makes a case for gay marriage, one that is informative, respectful and worthy of study.

She covers the issues of Hebrew context, polygamy, Levitical law, David and Jonathan, Jesus' near silence on marriage and divorce and his being single as well as Paul's single status. She give fair treatment of Paul's mis-interpreted statement on homosexuality.

Miller quotes biblical scholars, both Jew and Christian, all well known. Some are delightfully surprising. Including Walter Brueggemann, who I pray is trying to convince Stanley Hauerwas to reconsider his strange stance on gay marriage.

My prayer is that the Diocese of Arizona of which I am affiliated will make its work intentional towards the blessing of same sex unions and though we live in a State that has a double indictment against gay marriage we will as clergy offer a deep and abiding support for our gay and lesbians couples who desire God's blessing in the Church.

Final authority, unchangeable standard

I cringed when I read that the conservative Anglican leaders calling themselves the Common Cause Partnership included in their new organization's constitution the line about the Bible being the "final authority and unchangeable standard."

It seems very apparent that this new group seeking recognition from the World Wide Anglican Communion is going to make a lot of changes in their life style. Or maybe they haven't read Deuteronomy and Leviticus as closely as they would have us believe? And maybe they have intentions of declaring their embracing of slavery, of course that would make sense being they intend to enslave women and the gay community, or at least stop them from going passed the the altar rail, which, in my humble opinion is the same as enslavement. Or possibly some of them wish to resign their own positions of leadership being they have been married to more than one wife, or are they going to ignore Jesus' words about divorce? Of course then the Bible wouldn't really be the final authority or the unchangeable standard, would it?

I wonder, is the Bible the final authority and unchangeable standard, or is God? Who or what is being worshiped, God or the Bible? And where is the Holy Spirit, the Living God? Hmm?

Great Grace

It was ninety miles from the chapel to the cemetery. The ride was a reflection on the memories and stories of Gracie Lee Kellett Moss. Her ninety-six year life was a fulfillment of her name. She extended grace to everyone she met.

She was momma to two daughters, and either auntie or granny to the rest of the world. She adopted family, friend and stranger alike. Gracie was the consummate host. All who claim to be hospitable have to measure to her standard. She knew no stranger and never turned anyone away from her door.

Gracie was the epitome of the Good Shepherd she modeled her life after. She didn’t try to lead anyone instead she walked along behind the flock, ensuring that all the sheep had the opportunity to be safe. When someone from the flock strayed she would go after them, usually with a visit or a phone call. She never scolded or told them what they should do. Gracie listened and prayed.

Her sister died much too young from cancer leaving a single father with three teenage girls and a young son. Gracie didn’t try to replace her sister as their mother instead she was present for them offering her love, support and care. She couldn’t be their mother but she could be the compassionate and present aunt. Gracie knew how to be the living embodiment of grace to others.

At the service of the celebration of her life songs were sung about her and stories were told of her life. Every song written about her and every story told repeated her life of unconditional love.

Her namesake eight year old great-great-grand daughter Gracie, stood at the end of memorial service and told the large gathering through her tears, “I loved my granny and I will miss her very much.”

We all loved you very much, Aunt Gracie, and we all miss you very much

Please pray for the Brothers at Mount Calvary

Peregrini friends, please pray for the Brothers of the Order of the Holy Cross at Mount Calvary Monastery and Retreat House. The monastery was destroyed in the Monteceto fire last night. All the Brothers were evacuated to safety. They need our prayers as they deal with the immediate situation and as the days go forward. Some of you have been to this beautiful house of prayer and know that I am an Associate of the Order.

Attached in an article written by the Rev. Nicholas Knisley of our Cathedral here in Phoenix.

http://www.episcopalcafe.com/lead/news_reports/holy_cross_retreat_center_dest.html

In the presence of holy friends

This weekend I had the experience of being in the presence of holy friends. It's a sacred trust to gather in community. We shared in the frightening discussion of "What does this one life mean?" The group was vulnerable with one another, willing to share fears, doubts, and the uncertainty of not knowing what's next.

The container for the gathering was prayer. We prayed the Daily Office, the four cycle prayers of the Church, morning, noon, evening and compline. Prayer bathed our tired bodies, eased the tension of meeting new people, comforted those in pain, and reminded us that, if we give ourselves over to the idea, we are a part of something much bigger than our own private world.

We were privileged to be guided by the wise among us - each other. Four voices took the yoke of offering a possibility for conversation, and we responded with our questions and life experiences. A diverse group in some means, too much alike in others. Yet from our own milepost of life we were able to shine some light on the path for our fellow pilgrims.

Peregrini - the pilgrims way, it is a lifestyle, done best in community. Thank you friends for sharing a resting space with me. May our paths find us gathered again soon.

Number 44

Henry Aaron wore number 44 with pride and integrity - breaking Babe Ruth's homerun record despite threats against his life - and on this historic night, the 44th President of the United States is an African American - I am proud to be alive to witness a change in the very fiber of the life of this country. It was a privilege of mine to be on the same team as Henry Aaron in spring training with the Milwaukee Brewers and I am in tears to witness this particular moment in history and to feel some connection in supporting Barack Obama as President of the United States of America.

Working the Polls for Education

I'm heading out to distribute materials at a polling place on behalf of the local school district. The district needs an override election to pass in order to provide much needed support services for the children. I noticed there are override elections in almost every school district. These overrides rarely raise taxes and when they do its typically so small is goes unnoticed by most homeowners and businesses.

Public education is one of the wonderful opportunities this country offers its citizens. Most of us are products of public education. My parents were public school teachers, my wife is an administrator for a public school district, I taught public school, my son and daughter in law work in public schools, both our children were educated in public schools and many of our friends work in public schools; Laura, Jillian, Erin, Rebecca, Alicia, actually the list is countless.

If you can, support your local public schools and consider voting to pass their override elections.

I learned everything I know about God from my retarded sister

I walked half way across Ireland looking for God. Through driving rain, down forgotten trails, across centuries old pilgrim’s paths, I searched to fill an ache in my heart to discover something, anything about God.

At a pilgrims rest I encountered a dubiously curious holy man. “What are you doing here?” His poetic voice and pointed question pushed back my tired soul causing my eyes to come up for air.

“Uh, I’m on a pilgrimage.” When I said the words in his presence it sounded more like I was trying to steal a holy relic instead of discovering something about the mystical unseen.

“Humph,” he softly snorted. His crackling blue eyes pierced into my soul, “You wouldn’t be insultin’ God by lookin’, now would ya?”

Admittedly, I have spent the best part of my life searching for an intellectual encounter with the holy. At holy wells I prayed to see the water stir. Listening to great teachers, I yearned for “the” word that offered proof. Practicing spiritual disciplines in hopes for a revelation, a word, a punctuation mark, all have left me feeling unfulfilled.

Yet, in all my travels and personal efforts the only experience of a revealing encounter with the holy has been in the presence of my little sister. My sister is wise. She’s also strangely weird, a little nuts, often somewhat silly, and frankly, retarded. In PC-ese she’s special, challenged, mentally and physically handicapped. Technically she has Prader-Willi Syndrome (PWS).

My baby sister dances with God. For some reason unbeknown to me, I get to watch. Her name is Dinah. It reminds me she was named after a biblical character. Well, that’s not true. My mom named her after Dinah Shore. But it would have been really cool if she were named after the Dinah in the Bible. Maybe Dinah Shore was named after the biblical character?

Though my sister has this public relationship with God I doubt seriously if she thinks that much about God. But, when she does, when she communicates that encounter, it’s like a waltz. Her moments with God have nothing to do with her being Prader-Willi, it’s just the way she “lives, moves and has her being” through the world. In a sense her intimacy with God is as visible as her daily encounter with the rest of us.

Dinah has these little koans, cloudy windows into her hidden world. She’s like a druid priestess reciting rituals from another world. She often says, “I not not know.” When I ask her what she thinks about God she says, “I not not know.” I mean really, I could say the same thing. What do I know about God? Nothing. I could say, well the Bible says, or this guy I heard said, or my mom said, but what do I know? Nothing. What do I really honestly know, intellectually know about God? Nothing, nothing, as in “I not not know.” Of course she says that about a lot of other things too, but that’s her being genuinely honest. I wish I were that forthright. Especially when someone asks me questions assuming I know the magical answer. I think I’ll start telling them, “I not not know?”

As in, “Gil, why do shitty things happen?” Well, I not not know. That sounds better than some dreamt up theological bullshit. Doesn’t it?

PWS is attributed to the deformity of chromosome-15. It’s random. No one knows why it happens. It was identified in 1956, the year after my sister was born, by Andrea Prader and Heinrich Willi. Characteristically, Prader-Willi’s are hyperphagia among other things. Hyperphagia? Technically that means they eat too much. On the PWS website they sell refrigerate locks, that ought to tell you something. They sneak food. Steal food. Dig it out of trashcans. And then they hide it like an alcoholic stuffing bottles in little secret drawers everywhere in the house.

When we were preteens my sister would eat two or three loaves of bread in the middle of the night. At first my parents thought I was eating all that bread. I was a growing boy so I must have been downing the midnight snacks. One night my dad stumbled into the bathroom only to find my sister stuffing herself with an entire pie. As a result of their eating disorder, PWS people become obese as children. Many of them die in their twenty’s from related obesity issues. The average PWS dies at the age of 32. The oldest survivor was 64. Today my sister is 53.

PWS also have anger outbursts. Their outbursts are a rage that is wildly unrestrained. It’s like road rage on steroids. Typically the anger is directed at themselves. On occasion Dinah has ripped off her clothes and marched down the street screaming. Dinah has broken and destroyed more of her own beloved possessions than I can remember. Obviously, the outbursts add to the stress of the individual and their families. Dinah has taken several forms of psychotropic drugs, which help in some cases. She calls them her “weird pills.”

Her relationship with God isn’t a result of the drugs she takes. She’s always lived in that thin place with God between this world and the next. Dinah’s interchange with God apparently is real and fully functional.

We were on a walk in a mountainous area of Arizona. It was a summer day when the clouds were rolling in and rain was threatening. A dark clouded thunderstorm signaled a downpour was a few minutes off. The sound of thunder was crackling through the trees causing us to jump with every demonstrative bone rattling snap. In fear we were walking as fast as we could to get back to our cabin.

Out of breath and still a ways from the cabin, Dinah stopped. She glared up at the sky. “God,” she hollered out. “Dat enough.” She waited as if God would say, “Oops, I’m sorry about that,” and stop the storm. Instead another rattle of thunder roared through the trees. Dinah shrugged her shoulders and smirked as if to say, “Well, I said my peace that’s all I can do.”

Ok, I get it, or think I do. I can say whatever I want to God, just realizing God’s not Santa Claus and everything’s not going to work out just like I want it to. In fact God may not be in control of the thunder and lightening. Still, I can say my peace. That’s good enough. Then I can go on and keep walking. At least that’s what Dinah does.

Adding to Dinah’s genetic complications she had a temperature of 108 degrees during the first week of her life. Yes, you are right, my sister should have died a long, long time ago. The speech area of Dinah’s brain was affected most by the life threatening temperature. Consequently, she has about 25 words the average person can understand. She also has about another 25 or so words and signs that she uses to communicate with her family and closest friends.

When she and I were little guys there was Dairy Queen near our house. My parent’s drove us past the Dairy Queen each week on our way to and from church. My dad rarely stopped at the Dairy Queen. One day, out of the blue, on our way home Dinah started saying “I Cee,” and curling her index finger up and down. My parents have always worked hard to clue into Dinah’s attempt to communicate. It didn’t take too many times driving by the Dairy Queen with Dinah’s insistent “I Cee,” and wriggling finger for us to discover she was telling us she wanted ice cream. Her finger signal was mimicking the twist on the Dairy Queen sign on top of the building. I was really glad about her persistence because we got ice cream a lot more often after that breakthrough.

I can’t understand what God is trying to tell me. All the clues and the signs in the Bible and the cosmos leave me baffled. As with Dinah, though, I just can’t give up. There’s something about the mystery of it all that lures me into continually straining to hear and to see. I don’t get it very often, but the few times I do break code the intensity is revealing and worth the effort. Thanks to Dinah I got a lot of chocolate dipped cones. I wonder if God has soft-serve?

Instead of sweet ice cream sometimes life smells like shit. You know, really it does. When an event that smells like a four-day rotten egg invades our life, Dinah will hold her nose and say “keyqankey” Try it. Hold your nose and say, “key-qank-key.” You got it? No? Well, get a pot out of your cupboard. Get a wooden spoon and smack the bottom of that pot with the wooden spoon. That’s qank. Try it again. Hold your nose and say key-qank-key. I defy you to tell me there is a better description of something that smells really bad. I mean it sounds more realistic than saying, “boy that really stinks.”

When life goes south, stinks, really sucks do what Dinah does. Hold your nose and say, “God, keyqankey.” See if you don’t feel like God might be getting the picture a little better. When I pray, it’s all I can do to hope, at the depths of the pit I’m in, that God can smell the same foul order.

There is no excuse for boring and emotionless prayers. Dinah paints a picture for God. The nasal sound she utters lets me and I am pretty confident God, as well, know that the shit that just fell on my head is putrid and disgusting. When she speaks to God her feelings are all she has to speak with and they are undeniable.

Still, more often than not, Dinah is silent. When we go to dinner at her favorite restaurant we spend the evening like most siblings. We talk about our parents. She wants to know how my wife and kids are doing. I ask her about her friends at Art Works. I have learned to be comfortable with her silence. There are times she just wants to be quiet. She draws me into her silence. She has the ability to allow all thoughts to drift away like fragrant incense. She bundles the thoughts and sets them aside for a while. Her silence is restful. I wonder if that’s what it’s like sitting with God? Maybe, at least for me it is, sitting with Dinah is like sitting in the presence of God.

Besides not understanding God I have no idea what to say to God. I struggle trying to get the right words to communicate my feelings, emotions, desires, angst – well, Dinah has taught me to just go for it, do the best I can, just say what I can say and trust God will understand me.

It’s been our tradition at Thanksgiving that my mom asks me to say “a word” and then my dad prays for the blessing of the food. That’s been a standard ritual at our Thanksgiving gatherings for as long as I can remember.

A few years back my mom said she wanted to start a new tradition. Oh God, here we go, change. I like change about as much as the next guy, which means not at all, much less around the treasured holidays. I say a word, my dad says a prayer, we eat, and we watch football. Right? Not, not.

Mom tells us the girls are in charge. Well, I’m ok with that, sort of. My mom has it all lined out. First my daughter reads a poem. That’s good. Then my wife reads something from the Bible. That was ok. So I figure my mom is going to pray. Not, not.

My mom says that Dinah is going to pray. My parents have taken us to church from before memory, but, truthfully, I’ve never heard or seen or even thought about Dinah praying. She has an IQ of 45. Her vocabulary is limited. What is she going to say?

She bows her head. I’m watching her. I can’t bow my head and close my eyes. I have to drink this in, experience every moment. She bows her head as I imagine she’s seen us do before thousands of meals. Now what?

“God!” Here we go again. This time, though, I sensed God was there, present, at attention and listening with attentive ears. God had been summoned. God was paying attention like never before.

“God!” She repeated. There was a long silence. I could tell she was trying to gather up every ounce of intellectual and spiritual energy within her being and soul. Then it gushed forth like champagne from a freshly popped bottle. “I thank.”

Thankfulness? What was Dinah thankful for? Not only had she been dealt a bad hand. Someone had dealt her cards from the wrong deck. While we hope for a straight or a four-of-a-kind, she was playing poker with Old Maid cards. She would never experience many of the things that bring joy to this life. Yet, I heard her say, “I thank you God.” For what?

“God, I thank. Mom, Dad, Gia, Cafu, Nee, Esika…” What came after our names was a flood of emotion from every eye and heart in the room. We were the objects of her prayer and our lives were now the thankful ones. We had been blessed by Dinah’s beckoning of God into our midst. Fixated on my sister, I was pretty sure I had finally seen the face of God.

To me, that must be prayer. Dinah puts it out there. No begging or pleading for rescue from the inconveniences of existence. She didn’t want anything to be magically made better. Nothing to be fixed, or protected or made right, she only offered thanks in what appeared to be the cold absence of the reasons to be thankful.

I’m a very slow learner. It seems I have insulted God by looking for God. It took me two seminary degrees to realize that everything I really know and understand about God has come from my sister. Not from learned teachers, mystics or professors. I’ve read hundreds of books about God, what I’ve gained from them is miniscule in comparison to what I’ve gleaned from Dinah, who can’t read. I’ve been fortunate enough to hear some of this generation’s best thinkers give their finest oratory about the things of God. Every word I’ve read and heard spoken has been filtered through Dinah’s 50 words. The best I can truly say about God is, I not not know.

Veronika Decides to Die

Paulo Coelho is one author that captures a lot of my reading time. His work has significant influence on my thinking and writing.

While at the dentist I was reading The Plague by Albert Camus. The hygienist, who I had not met, came in, introduced herself and promptly asked me what I was reading. She asked me what it was about and I responded "death." She asked me if I was afraid of dying. I told her "no" and asked her the same question. She indicated she was not because she was Buddhist. She wanted to know if I was religious. Hesitantly, I said I was a Christian. Curiously, she wanted to know if I had always been a Christian. At this point knowing she was about to put her hands in my mouth if recognized I didn't have time to share with her my complex string of chaos theory related musing about God, Jesus, Trinitarian incarnational worldview and sacramentalism, and my universalist-like theology so I went for "sort of."

As she cleaned my teeth she asked if I ever read any Coelho. I nodded I had. She quizzed if I had read Veronika Decides to Die. I indicated I had not - being, she said, that I was interested in death, she highly recommended the book. Not wanting to offend someone with a sharp instrument in my mouth I agree to read the book.

Coelho does not disappoint and the hygienist made a good recommendation. But, the story is not about death - its about life and the choices we have about how to live that one solitary life we have been given. As the cover suggests, the story is about redemption. But even deeper it is a story that offers another way, not just a way or the way but another way.

A few ramblings

The Sun is one of my favorite and most read magazines (www.thesunmagazine.org). There is an informative interview with Pramila Jayapal. She is an India-born US citizen, activist and author, working on a project to make Washington, DC a "hate-free zone." The article in the Sun is titled "Without a Country Pramila Jayapal On the Problems Immigrants Face." The interview is personal, concise and packed with important information regarding possible solutions to this complex issue.

Are you going to watch any of the World Series? Yes, it begins tonight. Instead of focusing all your attention on the players, watch the managers. These are two guys who lead from different perspectives and both have great success.

The Phillies manager is Charlie Manuel. He's old school, low-key, shy, unwilling to do interviews or speak in public - he lets his players play the game, simply trying to create an environment where they can shine.

Joe Madden is the Rays skipper. I've known Joe for 30 years. He's a detail guy. A friend of mine described him as librarian. True, Joe reads and studies the game like no one else. He knows the statistics and situation better than anyone. He was one of the key factors in the Angels winning the 2002 WS, he was their bench coach.

Check it out, two differing styles that strive for the same result, creating environments of community.

A very good friend complained that I'm not writing on my blog enough. Sorry about that
I will make an real effort to write no less than once a week. Thanks for your encouragement.

An end to hunger

Is is possible to end worldwide hunger? In our life time? At any time? Jesus said in the first century, "You will always have the poor with you." Well, being poor and being hungry are two different things. Jesus also told the disciples to feed the hungry. And Jesus said when we feed the hungry we are offering food to the hungry.

Today a few hundred bloggers have committed to writing about the Millennium Development Goals - the attempt to end poverty and hunger in our life time. Is it possible? Yes, it is. It is possible if we will all do our little bit.

A friend of mine went to Seattle to visit his friend. While there he met a man who every morning bought two loaves of bread and enough peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. He took those sandwiches to a place where homeless men gathered under a bridge. Each morning for two weeks this man did the same thing. When my friend arrived home he was so moved by this man's actions that he sent him a check for $100 with a note that said, "for your ministry." A week later my friend received an envelope from the sandwich maker returning my friend's check, the attached note said, "Make your own damn sandwiches."

If each of us would make our own damn sandwiches we could make a difference and reduce the hunger of the men living under the bridge in our own neighborhood. Make a difference, make your own damn sandwich today.

The Last out at Yankee Stadium

Trivia question - who recorded the last assist and putout at the last game played at Yankee Stadium? The Yankees played the last game in the House that Ruth built last night (September 21). The answer to the question is first baseman Cody Ransom. Why would I care to know such trivial trivia? Cody Ransom played baseball at Grand Canyon University in 1998, the year we won the Northern Division of the Western Athletic Conference, NCAA Division I.

Cody played shortstop at GCU. He was a gifted college player and a leader on our team. After his senior year he was drafted by the San Francisco Giants. Cody quickly made it to the majors with the Giants. He has played with several major league teams, primarily as a defensive specialist.

Cody graduated from Chandler High School and then played two years at South Mountain Community College. While a sophomore at South Mountain his team suffered a horrible tragedy. Cody was riding in a van where the driver's side front tire blew and the van rolled. Killing two passenger's and severely injuring others. Miraculously Cody and some of the others in the van did not suffer life threatening injuries. To his credit he continued to play and worked hard to achieve his goal of playing professional baseball.

Cody is a fine young man and a credit to his family. The baseball family in Arizona is proud of him and want to congratulate him on being a part of a historical moment. It was fun to watch.

Arizona Together

Prop 102 is the so-called "Marriage Amendment." Here are the reasons I am voting against this Prop.

Marriage - even though it's already defined in state law and even though we voted on this two years ago our legislators are forcing this vote again.

The LDS Church has raised $3 million to support the passing of 102 and the Roman Catholic Bishop of the Diocese of Phoenix sent a mandatory message DVD to be shown at every mass in support of 102. Why?

We already voted on this - don't the politicians get it?

If you read my previous post you will also understand my personal stake in this matter.

Marriage

Two of our dear friends were married a few days ago. We are so happy for them. Disappointingly we could not attend. The wedding was on a Saturday and they live in another State. In fact, they live in only one of two States where they could legally get married. That fact is frustrating.

Our friends have been together 24 years. They love each other. Its obvious, when I see them together, how much they care for each other. They are a match, not to be cliche', made in heaven.

You get it right? May friends are joined in a same sex union. They were married by an Episcopal priest. Because of the abuse they have endured I feel it would be inappropriate and unfair to give you any more information about them. I love them and feel it important to protect them. I also love them and want to tell their story.

My prayer is that one day the world we will live in will not discriminate. I know that's naive, but I'm still going to pray for the peace which passes all understanding. It is also my prayer that sometime soon the bishop of our diocese will allow us to offer the blessing of same sex unions. The Episcopal Church says it is welcome to all. If that is true how can we discriminate against those who seek the table and our blessing for their love?

Phoenix Police Officer Nick Erfle was killed nearly a year ago while making a routine stop. The man he tried to detain turned out to be an undocumented immigrant, illegally in this country.

Officer Erfle's wife, Julie, probably has every right to demand every person illegally in this country be immediately deported. Instead, she has began to speak out calling us to common ground in order to find a "real solution...discussing our fears and concerns in a mutually respectful way."

Recently she was verbally assaulted by KFYI talk-radio personality Bruce Jacobs. He said, "You should be ashamed of yourself...If I were in your family, I would be embarrassed. When the next officer is gunned down...I am going to give you partial blame."

Talk radio is a forum that promotes vitriol. Jacobs is fueling his listeners. So, this is a free country with the freedom of speech. Is it, however, a country without civility towards those who hold different points of view? Obviously.

Nearly the entire Police community, it associations and unions have called for a public and personal apology. Arizona Casino suspended its advertising. Nothing in this world would be lost if Jacobs was fired. However, if the personal attack on Julie Erfle continues what does that say about those who allow it to persist? Nothing good, that's for sure. She deserves more than an apology, she deserves for this community to listen to her. What is wrong with being civil with one another in an attempt to reach a real solution to palpable problem?

Boycott

I’m boycotting the Olympics. Who cares you ask? No one I suppose. It’s just one of those things that is a matter of principle. Not only am I boycotting the Olympics because of China’s lack of respect for human rights but also because of America’s lack of respect for human rights. The President of the United States allowed the U.S. team to compete and he made his presence very known at the games. I do not believe either should have happened. So, I’m doing my own personal boycott by not watching any of the Olympics or reading any news about them.

It is true that my absence from the television and the support of the Olympics is of no consequence. It is however necessary for me to take note. Particularly being the Olympiad originally began with a cessation of all wars for the period of competition. Evidently no one from this country or Russia has paid any attention to anything other than the medal count while the body count in Afghanistan, Iraq and Georgia continue to mount.

It seems amusing that people watch the Olympics anyway. The majority of people who watch the “games” night after night probably wouldn’t show up at a swimming meet, diving competition or even a track meet of any kind. My guess is the vast majority of people watching have no understanding of the competition they are witnessing. They just know somebody wins. Winning, the true American way.

From past experience, the television producers realize this and so they fill the airtime with overly “dramatic” and cheesy commentators and endless human-interest stories. While I have no intention of criticizing the competitors, the “fans,” well, are probably the same people who “vote” for the American Idol.

But, I will admit, for those of you watching, it can be entertaining even if you only watch gymnastics once every four years yet did nothing to help support Arizona State University gymnastics team when it was being axed. Anyway, entertainment, that’s what professional sports like the Olympics is all about and that’s what American’s crave the most.

WALL-E

Don’t fool yourself WALL-E is no kid’s movie. The world has ended and what’s left on Mother Earth is a trash compactor, WALL-E, sorting through our capitalistic junk pile of “a must have it all now” society.

Without speaking a word through the first third of the movie we feel the indictment as WALL-E takes up his daily routine of rebuilding the remains of world overrun by consumption. He flips through the piles left behind on our deserted planet. He saves Christmas lights, cigarette lighters, re—usable WALL-E parts (self preservation you know) and oh yes, an old videotape of Hello, Dolly! What does he do with his compact cubes? Build buildings of course, buildings that are monuments to our financial cathedrals, skyscrapers of trash.

Hard to imagine that our beloved home ends not at the hands of terrorists with WMD, or WWIII or even the results of global warming, no the world ends when covered with our greed, or what’s left of it.

The only legacy to be the witness of humans who once inhabited Earth are the mega-malls of B&L, Buy in Large (quantities) – an obvious swipe at Wal-Mart, Target, Cosco or any other big box store which encourages our massive lust for more and bigger.

And where are we, humans that is? Why we have left the planet on our cruise space ship. We have been floating in space for 700 years. We have lost our ability to walk, to think, and evidently to care. We still consume, so much so, we’ve become infant-like blimps who float from meal to meal, meal in a cup that is, consumed without discrimination. We float around on lounge chairs with our music in our ears and facebook screens no more than six inches from our mug. While in constant communication with one another, we have lost human contact – no touching, much less seeing the person floating next to you.

Above all else, WALL-E is a love story, on several simple and yet complex levels – subtle and well, not so – it is still a movie for children. If you have children, grandchildren, or you have to borrow them, or if you don’t need an excuse to see a G-rated movie – the movie is more than worth the cost of admission.

'Speak Spanish to Me'

'Speak Spanish to Me' is currently running at the Actors Theater, Herberger Theater Center .

Set on the campus of Arizona State University, its the tale of love and coming of age. Liz is a white, liberal, post-modern hippie from Maine. On her first day on campus she meets Frank, a good looking Mexican-American conservative whose dad is a self-made businessman who showers his son with all the money he needs, or doesn't need and sometimes doesn't want. Problem is, Liz thinks Frank is a migrant worker and he does nothing to dissuade her projections. She has fallen in love with her ideals and Frank's flawless Spanish.

As a comedy, the play works. Brittany Schoenborn's portrayal of Liz is on target. She is funny, sensitive, and insecure. Frank's character is played by Marcelino Quinonez. He equally is believable and is easy to connect to. Together they build a story of energy, conflict and they delve lightly into contemporary issues of immigration, racism, and abortion. What also helps is that both are or were ASU students.

There are five other characters in the play, two of which are a female professor and a white wannabe rapper. The characters were shallow and insulting to the play. I'm not even sure they were necessary to the plot in any way - maybe they just took up time and space. Surely the playwright could have found better characters?

Three side characters were played by one man, Richard Trujillo. As Frank's father he hit the mark. In the final scene he is Elvis at the Vegas Wedding Chapel. He was a riot, incredibly funny. The opposite is the case in his portrayal as an Asian doctor. That should have been left out the play. It was really bad besides being insulting. A strange portrayal in a play about race and sterotypes.

If you can get a cheap seat the play is worth it simply because it explores issues confronted by ASU students. The play is a good conversation starter when it comes to difficult issues. Its weakness may have been in not going deeper with those issues, of course it is billed as a comedy and that may be its saving grace.

The Art of Confession

The Art of Confession a novel by Matthew Thomas Baker

Matt's a good friend. He's an artist, thinker, communicator, and writer - those things aren't mutually inherent in one another, which makes Matt unique in that he displays each with great character. They are Matt's gifts and he uses them well in this novel.

The Art of Confession is a story of three young soul's exploring their friendship, love, intimacy, and interior expression. Set in Cambridge and Italy, Philip, Oliver and Silva struggle to discover their individual identity and their collective soul. As Philip said, Oliver spoke in actions, Philip in words and they were languages apart. Silva is the unspoken language between the two.

Matt's story telling skill and image crafting kept me reading quickly through the story. Typically I read at least three books at a time and make each wait its turn, not so with Matt's work. He owned the dance floor with this novel. His writing is subtle, gentle, alluring, passionate and intellectually intriguing.

Whether you personally know Matt or not I think you will find this story a fascinating journey into the life and mind of a young artist and those who seek love and affirmation. This book is well worth the time.

So, Matt, when is your next novel arriving?

Earthy Mysticism

Earthy Mysticism a new book by Tex Sample.

Real. Gusty. Confrontational. Erotic. Tex Sample’s latest book, Earthy Mysticism is God talk and God talks in language that is real, gusty, confrontational and erotic.

Sample has written a collection of personal stories that deal with real dirt under your fingers kind of spirituality. He uses language that you would expect to hear working in the oil fields or driving a taxi. He shares the emotions felt when a son dies in a motorcycle accident. Tex speaks the words shared between two young lovers. This is a book for people who never care to enter church but sense that God is al least worth yelling at.

I took a lot of time reading Tex’s stories, there was a need in my soul to savor them and let them do their work in my life. I cried more than I laughed. Often I found myself looking away, winching, not wanting to go on - like scripture I guess.

I’m not one for recommending books. But this one is worth the time and money. No bullshit.

First Draft

Stunned is the best description of my feeling of having finished the first draft of my novel. It ended. Not necessarily where I thought. Better perhaps? Of course, that’s where the story went, I simply followed it and it ended where it did.

I’ve been working on My Brother is Chasing Me for just over a year. I started writing while at a writer’s workshop at Mt. Calvary Monastery in Santa Barbara. A week ago, sitting at the same desk at Mt. Calvary the story concluded.

Nora Gallagher encouraged me to just let go, to open my soul and write. Interestingly enough my mom told me the same thing about two months ago. Well the first draft is done. Of course Anne Lamont said that we all are entitled to a “shitty first draft.” So I need to get back to working on the second draft.

For the curious this is not a baseball story. It’s a story about a 30-something woman priest and college chaplain. No, it’s not autobiographical. I must admit though that they’re probably a lot of me in several characters. As taught, I must write about what I know. Maybe my next book will be about baseball. Or maybe a college president?

God, the Super Bowl?

Yesterday’s Super Bowl is the first football game I’ve watched in entirety this year. Well, actually I fell asleep somewhere before the end of the first half and woke up to watch the last half of the fourth quarter.

To keep me entertained my wife and I were rating the commercials. I liked the Go Daddy commercial, I guess because Fox banned it. To be a moralistic newspaper The Arizona Republic gave it an “F” this morning.

Anyway, the game wasn’t that interesting, even the ending. The Arizona Republic called the win an upset. Why was that? Simply because the Patriots were undefeated should have tipped everyone off to the reality that they wouldn’t win. Maybe, because football and American nationalism are so intertwined that Americans just can’t imagine the underdog winning? Not sure.

Of course, I was curious about why Fox thought it was important or meaningful or necessary to trot out the Declaration of Independence immediately before the game. What is the connection between the Declaration and the Super Bowl? Every woman who chose to watch the game should have been offended that only Pat Tillman’s wife was a reader. Women who were forced to watch, well, enough said about that. Only white and African-American males were represented – oh, you say they only had coaches and players represented – maybe that says something too? I was surprised Fox didn’t role their King out there but I guess his ratings aren’t doing too good right now?

I watched the post game interviews just to see how long it would take someone to thank God for winning (or for a good performance or something like it). It took the first guy his second sentence. I quit watching at that point. Does anyone really think God cares enough to help you win a game?

The Busy World is Hushed

A woman Episcopal priest, a gay assitant, a gay son, death and dying, conflict, self-discovery, all are central to Kenneth Bunin's "A Busy World is Hushed." The Episcopal Church and its via media theology is a perfect setting to allow the characters in Bunin's play to explore their complex relationships.

Hannah is an Episcopal priest, biblical scholar, seminary professor and Thomas' mother. Before Thomas was born his father committed suicide. Thomas is a wonderer who has meandered in and out of contact with his mom - their relationship is strained because of Hannah's fear and subsequent attempt to protect Thomas from suffering his father's depression and anger. Thomas' response is at times volatile and could be self destructive.

The story begins with Hannah's receipt of a newly discovered "gospel." To assist her in writing a book about her translation and interpretation of the new gospel text, she hires Brandt. Within the first scene, it is obvious that Brandt has fallen for Thomas. It gets extremely complicated when Hannah attempts to "use" Brandt to help stablize Thomas. The outcome is somewhat predictable. However, the emotions are genuine and often raw.

Bunin's play allows Thomas and Brandt to explore their relationship with authentic lines and scenes. Thomas' mistrust and doubt of his mother's faith is confrontative and harsh - it is very reflective of a young adult's challenge of their clergy parent's religion. It is painful to watch Hannah's character do too much preaching and not enough relationship building.

Her character, unfortunately, isn't given the opportunity to translate her desire to find the historical Jesus into a post-Easter Jesus who can communicate with a post-modern world and the young adults who live in it. That was very disappointing. There are Christians who are struggling to translate Jesus' life into a world looking for spiritual meaning. Unfortunately, Bunin fails to give Hannah a chance to be one of those voices.

The play was worth the money and the time. It provoked good conversation among our young adult group who attended.

everything must change

Brian McClaren's latest attempt to cast a vision for the emergent church movement towards social justice is a good start. Though, like most of his books he stops short of the end of the run way, I must admit he comes closer than any of his previous works of actually taking off. As a friend of my said, "He must have gotten bored before he finished."

His personal research through travel is undeniably powerful and allows him to make some provocative demands of the Evangelical circles to whom he is preaching. His exegesis is insightful at times. Though, I must admit, I prefer Stanley Hauerwas' socialist perspectives on the gospel to be more compelling. The evidence of McClaren's research is quite evident and extremely useful. This book is an excellent resource.

I found his treatment of the Millennium Development Goals to be rather dismissive and I was troubled by that. I will admit to my bias in that I believe the Episcopal Church is making a good effort at making this a real goal for the local church.

The format is excellent for a book study, which he intends, including questions at the end of each chapter. I find it impossible to imagine a study going on for thirty-four weeks (the number of chapters) - but the eight sections seem reasonable. I intend to lead a young adult group in such a study.

While the book is worth the read, the price of hard back will keep some young adults from reading it and I find that unfortunate. For those of you who can afford it - it's worth the time and money.

God doesn't care about baseball

Rockies General Manager, Daniel O’Dowd, stated in a recent news article that God definitely had a hand in the Rockies winning streak at the end of the season. That is pure religion drivel. What in the world is this guy thinking? That is absolutely the worst kind of theology imaginable. The real problem with it is that more people in America probably agree with him than don’t.

Popular theology, especially that of Evangelicals and religious conservatives has offered this notion of prosperity gospel for too long in this country. If O’Dowd or anyone else thinks that God cares about the outcome of a baseball game or a baseball season then answer me this question. If God really cares about that then why doesn’t God care enough to prevent Clint Hurdles’ daughter, Maddie, from being Prader-Willi, a random birth defect caused by the deformity of chromosome 15?

I don’t think God caused Maddie to be a Prader-Willi anymore than I think God caused my sister, Dinah, to be a Prader-Willi. It’s random and rarely happens. Just as rare as a team as poor as the Rockies winning 21 or their last 22 games coinciding with the collapse of the San Diego Padres and the New York Mets, both much better teams who would have had a better chance against the Red Sox. Actually I doubt if the National League All-Stars could beat the Red Sox or the Yankees or the Angels or even the Indians.

I do think that God deeply cares about Maddie, Clint Hurdle, Dinah, my parents and each individual person who walks across the face of the this earth. God cares enough to take the risk that we will care back without being manipulated. God cared enough to want to understand our trials and tribulations to come into this world and risk being born in a first century out post. God cared enough to live and die as one of us. This is the care and empathy of God. God cares and understands.

While I would have to say that God has the freedom to be God and to manipulate the flight of a baseball if God wanted to – but nothing in this world suggests that that is so.

Bishop of South Carolina

The Rev. Mark Lawerence was elected Bishop of South Carolina. This was the diocese' second try at electing Lawerence. The first election was declared null and void by The Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefforts Shori because Lawerence didn't receive the necessary majority approval from Standing Committees around the Episcopal Church. Lawerence was recently re-elected. He was the only candidate on the second ballot. This time he did receive a majority of approvals from Standing Committees. In both elections he received the required majority votes from Bishops.

It appeared that Lawerence did not get the needed consents the first time because he had publicly committed himself to leading the Diocese of South Carolina out of the Episcopal Church if he was elected. After not receiving the necessary consents he changed, sort of, his public statements.

I serve on the Standing Committee for the Diocese of Arizona. Our Standing Committee did not give consent to Lawerence's election after either election. I will admit that I did sign the consent form on the first election using the rationale that if South Carolina wanted Lawerence for their Bishop, then they should get what the want. If they want to leave the Episcopal Church well I guess that's their perogative. Though I strongly disagree with their motives, reasons and their theology - as a group if they want to have this kind of leadership, well, I guess then they should get what they want.

However, I didn't sign the second consent form because of Lawerence's changed public statements. I do believe that over time and with great effort and consideration that people can and do and should change their minds about all kinds of topics, thoughts, ideas, opinions and decisions - however, over night, when the motive seems so obvious- I doubt that serioiusly. It seems to make a mockery of the process. And process is what the Episcoapl Church is all about. So like Lawerence I changed my position.

The Episcopal Church is an open place that has room for a lot of opinions at the table. Lawerence and I are probably at opposite ends of the table theologically and probably every other way as well. It would be very sad and an expensive waste of money that could be used for mission efforts or the MDG's if the Diocese of South Carolina were to attempt to leave the Episcopal Church - of course, they can't leave, or better yet, can't take what belongs to the Episcopal Church, the people can leave, I guess - but, still, it would cause so much pain. We do, though, support diversity and dialogue which often strains the idea of holding hands around the table. But, we will see in this case.

It was at least comforting to see that the Diocese of South Carolina has invited the Presiding Bishop to visit the Diocese so that they can make clear their "theology." It wasn't clear whether they were inviting her to be at Lawerence's consecration. The language in the most recent press release seems to indicate that they do intend to remain in the Episcopal Church.

The business of the Episcopal Church is risky and complex business. I take being on the Standing Committee very seriously. I think it is my responsibility to represent our Diocese and not just my own opinions - which change, like Lawerence's did - so I guess we have some things in common, though, not much. I pray it is enough to at least keep us standing around the table - probably not holding hands, though.

God at the Pita Jungle

Peregrini took a field trip type pilgrimage evening to the Pita Jungle in Tempe - the Pita Jungle is a popular place to eat in Tempe, the food is good, the atmosphere is amenable to conversation and the price is reasonable. It's not our normal Peregrini hangout, but its a familiar place to most who show up for our weekly conversation.

Our topic this week was, "where is God? in the inconveniences of life?" Funny thing, that conversation never appeared. Which, is what a good Peregrini is all about - following the natural trend of what is on our minds and what is troubling our souls. We struggled with some national political issues as well as some local leaders who are trying to grab the headlines. We talked about various religious issues. The group encouraged one another in our efforts to be good stewards of the earth and to love our neighbors by feeding and clothing the most needy in the Tempe area. Jeff and Caroline are having a "Cool People Care" party. Its a unique movement of young adults, check it out.

What is most heartening about our conversation is that in it we find the ability to tease one other, love one another, care about one another - we are a community. A community that has room in it for new ideas, difference of opinions and those who care to join us on the walk.

if you are in the Tempe (larger Phoenix) area you are welcomed to join us - we meet regularly every Thursday, 7 pm, at St. Augustine's on the corner of Broadway and College (two blocks south of ASU). We always have a good (free) meal and the conversation - well, it could go anywhere, though I will admit I never remember talking about Elvis' appearance - but, who knows.

What happened to the Diamondbacks?

The Diamondbacks looked great against the Cubs, but what happened when they played the Rockies. Two things I guess. One is the Rockies were red hot (not so against the Red Soxs last night). The second is the Dbacks played like the youthful rookies they are - they made the mistakes young players make. They over ran bases, made assumptions about umpires calls and played tight when they got behind.

What does any of that have to do with God? Nothing. And that may be the best point. Life brings lots of circumstances to us that are out of our control and equally it brings things to us we can control with maturity. To blame God for thing outside the control of the world, in other words to blame God for evil in the world or reasonable people who make bad decisions, is to want to believe in Santa Claus, not God. As well, it is equally immature not to accept responsibility for our own actions and those things we can control - like the decisions we make.

Blaming God strangles the opportunity to mature. If the Dbacks want to be better they will have to recognize their mistakes and work on them to become mature players.

I think maybe the Cubs are on to something - wait till next year. I just hope it isn't 99 years before the Diamondbacks win the World Series again. If it is, well, I'll still be a fan (from the lap of God, of course).

God and baseball 2

Oh the pain of the Cubs. Oh the suffering of another loss. At a point anyone who embraces an attempt to understand God can empathize with Cub fans - longsuffering. It's so hard to watch. Admittedly, I am a Diamondback fan - but, still, in all truth, my heart goes out to the billy goat.

Of course, it really couldn't have gotten any worse when on Friday night the Diamondbacks were making their way to a sure victory but still within psychological reach of the Cubbies. A break? Dbacks shortstop Stephen Drew was hit by a pitch and started to take first base. Wait a minute - the umpire said Drew didn't attempt to avoid the pitch - the umpire evoked a rarely enforced rule and ordered Drew back to the plate, where he promptly hit a home run on the next pitch. Doomed once again.

And what does God have to say about that? As usual, God is silent. God is a suffering God, suffering in silence. Somehow we can relate, though we wish it were different. We would really like God to be more like a white knight God or a Santa Claus God or a miracle worker God - instead, God is a suffering God. Cub fans seems to understand oh so well.

God and baseball

I Was physically present to watch Cub fans in Phoenix wretch as their beloved losers, lost yet again. Kissing the Billy Goat? Pucker up. At Chase Field in Phoenix we had several Cub fans sitting around us. They were sharing stories of how much they paid for their tickets, $100 a seat, $150, $250, that’s a lot of money. I didn’t mention that my dad is a season ticket holder and paid the face value of $40. Oh yea, he gave me the tickets. I wondered to myself about the value of capitalism. Of course I also wondered about my own ethics of reveling in the joy of watching Cub fans once again squirm as they watched their hapless team struggle for the 99th year. As one blog suggests, God is a Cubs fan – God must be – God is all about suffering and who suffers more than the Cubs? Actually, I have a theory that the Cubs are losers by design – for them losing is profitable – the theory eases my guilt over feelings pains of capitalism. I’m a socialist and think Christians are socialist by the nature of Jesus’ teaching. Profit sharing is good for baseball because its a good socialist practice – and God must be in there somewhere.

Making it to second base with God and other musing from the dashboard light – I read a blog titled “God hates Cleveland sports.” Not! Cleveland just beat the Yankees in the bottom of the 11th and how did they do it? Canadian Soldier bugs that came in from the lake caused Joba Chamberlain to throw two wild pitches in the 7th inning – otherwise the Indians would have lost. Canadian Soldier bugs have a life of 48 hours. They actually hatched early because of the warm humid day in Cleveland. They showed up in the 8th inning because the wind died down. Sounds like Moses and the plagues on Pharaoh. Remember that? Yeah, gnats that swarmed the people forcing the oppressor to re-think long term slavery and captivity. The Yankees as oppressors? Cleveland the chosen people of God? Well I don’t know about the chosen people of God but clearly the Yankees and their oppressive “Boss” with too much capitalistic money lives in the house of Pharaoh. God hate Cleveland? He just sent the Canadian Soldiers as your savior.

God? Praying for peace?

It seems more difficult each day to pray for peace when the possibility of it is so remote. World leaders grapple with the political nuances of the needs of their own kingdoms while refusing to make decisons based on the economy of the absence of global conflict. Is peace in the world possible? Is peace within my own life possible?

Our Peregrini group wrestled with these questions. Prompted by our weekly prayer for peace and all peacemakers, we also struggled with our responsibility to be prophets and activists for peace. Do we support political leaders who advocate otherwise? What does it mean to "support" a political leader? Vote? What about working to overthrow a government? Here, there, anywhere?

Somehow keeping these questions in the context of a God conversation become confusing or at least troubling. Are we Americans first or Christians first? Surely they are not one in the same - but what happens when the objectives of one flys in the face of the other? These are questions that weighed heavy on our weekly discussion.

"We pray for continued blessings on all peacemakers, on leaders who value peace, and on everyone who promotes nonviolent solutions to conflict. We pray for a speedy end to all violence and warfare around the world."

God? You could at least remember her name

Elvira Arellano captured our attention last week. About a year ago she was taken in Sanctuary by Alberto United Methodist Church in Chicago. Elvira and her eight year-old son, Saul, lived in the church for just over 12 months.

Elvira is an undocumented alien who was working at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport where she cleaned airplanes to support the two of them. Her son is a US citizen. The church supported her in an attempt to prevent her from being deported.

This last week, while traveling between churches in Los Angeles where she was speaking about the plight of undocumented aliens, she was arrested. She was deported to Tijuana the next day.

Our Peregrini centered upon the role of the Church (if any) in providing sanctuary for those who seek it. The conversation covered a wide range of possibilities whereby some might seek sanctuary. While no resolution was derived there was lively debate about the legitimacy of someone who has committed a crime seeking solace under the grace of the church.

The most stunning part of the evening came after the official conversation while we cleaning up. When we started the evening I apologized for not being able to remember this woman’s name. While we were cleaning up Tyler reminded me that her name is Elvira. He told me he had heard lots of conversation about this topic on talk-radio. One commentator couldn’t remember the woman’s name and he remarked, “it doesn’t really matter.” Tyler said it does matter because without a name and face we can forget that we are talking about real people with hurts and pains just like ours. Thanks for reminding me Tyler and I pray not to forget Elvira and her Saul.

God? Double Dipping

The Rev. Ann Holmes Redding said in a recent Christian Century article titled "Episcopal Priest who embraced islam suspended for a year" that she is both Muslim and Christian. "I'm both an American of African descent and a woman. I'm 100 percent both. At the most basic level, I understand the two religions to be compatible. That's all I need." Redding told her story to the Seattle times in June.

Her Bishop, The Rt. Rev. Geralyn Wolf, suspended her for a year to "reflect on the doctrines of Christian faith and her vocation as a priest." Wolf states that he sees "the conflicts inherent in professing both Christianity and Islam."

Our Peregrini discussion divided the conversation into several parts.

First, no one thought any bishop would take such an action against a lay person. Some of our group doubted that some bishops would even take a similar action against some priests that they suspicion might have similar leaning, or at least embrace another religion like Buddhism.

Second, there was some serious conversation given to the idea that the priest, as an employee of the church and having taken vows of holy orders has an obligation to be one who "proclaims the gospel." However, it was pointed out that it would be hard to find any priest that weren't in violation of such canons. Who would be the keeper of the "orthodoxy?" Would we be heading to more inquistions?

Third, some made the point, "who really cares?" Until religion can get over itself and begin understanding itself as all a part of One Holy God and not holy apostolic and catholic Church, it will be at the root of conflict and even war. Because we may not be able to accommodate The Rev. Redding, we probably are driving others who are eclectic in faith, away from the church as a whole. Just another form of fundamentalism? What do you think?

Theology on Tap:Does God Happen to Everyone?

Theology on Tap - Does God Happen to Everyone?

The Rev. Kate Bradley led our pilgrims in a troubling conversation. Kate is always open and personal. She told us about her childhood experience of being encountered by a very tangible God. It was the beginning of her journey that has led her to be a priest in the Episcopal Church. But, the question was, does everyone have this kind of experience and if not, why not?

Carole offered the story of a 50 year-old friend who has lived a prayerful and disciplined life, hoping and longing for Kate’s kind of spiritual contact with God. Carole’s friend wants to feel that God loves him and knows him personally. Is that too much to ask? Her friend lives in the continued agony of aching for an experience that he has no hope will happen.

The conversation focused on the friend. Maybe he just hasn’t contexted his own experience in such a fashion that he could quantify such an existential moment? Maybe God has offered such an experience and he just hasn’t known it? Or felt it? Maybe it will happen?

We were told that in the book What Ever Happened to the Soul? by Warren Brown and Nancy Murphy that neuroscience suggests that the brain is either wired for spiritual experience or it is not. Spiritual experience, visions, can be provoked by neuro-stimulus. Maybe her friend just isn’t “properly wired.”

In all honestly that viewpoint was heartily argued against. Not necessarily from a scientific perspective but from the point of the limitations of the unseen God.

It was suggested that her friend had every right to beseech God about God’s absence. The Psalms are full of those crying out to God to be fully present to the experience of humanity.

We were told about Sister Theresa who lived her life without any ecstatic experience of God. She simply chose to live a life of daily obedience and service.

Obviously we didn’t come to any conclusions – we just shared lots of ideas and personal stories. Join in the conversation.

Pilgrimage 27 days without email

Pilgrimage 27 days without email.

Just finished a 27 day pilgrimage in Ireland. I walked about 100 miles the first 10 days. The remainder of the trip was spent using various forms of transportation across Ireland. With walking always being the best way to see into the soul.

The anticipation of the experience made it difficult for me to be present here. My soul wanted to travel across the water before my body could leave Arizona. Once in Ireland the attention to intentional presence was easy to give in to.

Initially I didn’t intend to ignore my email. Figuring it would be inconvenient, I just thought I would sit down once a week and pick through the mail. Computers were available in most everyplace we stayed and every town we walked through. The first few days I was just too tired to care about it. Then the longer I didn’t check it the more intent I became on staying away from it. I never checked my email or even used a computer for 27 days. Actually I rarely used a phone. Each day I felt the better for the detachment.

At one point I entertained the thought of simply giving up my computer and email once I would return home. Obviously, I didn’t do that. But, in some sense I have made some serious decisions about my use of the internet and email.

When walking I was able to see things I could not have seen otherwise. Some because we were in the forest and walking was the only way to get where we were. Some though was simply because in walking we had the time to stop and look at new born sheep, wind toppled trees, perched hawks, long forgotten ruins and to talk to pilgrims traveling in the opposite direction. Life at three, two or one mile an hour has a much different view.

Walking pilgrimage has affected my prayer life and slowed down my work pace. Praying without ceasing seems more plausible and multi-tasking feels obscene. Taking a picture is good. Drawing pictures causes for reflection. Prose tells stories. Poetry tells the soul.

Our host and Good Samaritan in Roundwood told me that he had to scroll down to read my posts and sermons they were too long – it takes away from the walking.

Peregrini looks at the next journey

Peregrini, pilgrims on the spiritual journey, keep journals, look for signs and try to ascertain if the direction is one being of being fetched. Never wanting to plod along with our heads down, we scan the landscape, ever intentional, looking for new possibilities. Experiences that provoke the spirit.

Our intenitional Peregrini gathering has been built around the premise that the question is more important than the answer. "God?" has been the beginning or our conversation for almost three years. Our intentions are that this open ended possibility continue.

After a night of serious conversation about the next stage of journey, fellow Peregrini came to the point of looking for where that next leg might be. Without changes the strengths of Peregrini, the open ended questions, the meal, the freedom to drop in and out, we have added some sign posts for the journey.

First, we will meet every Thursday at 7:00 pm. Second, we will meet at St. Augustine's on Broadway and College. This venue affords us a more comfortable setting, easy access to the kitchen and a consistent evening of gathering. While holding to our hour and half format we intend to add some features which should make the experience even more experimental for the explorer.

We will begin our new format and location on August 2. Our last gathering at Fair Trade Cafe will be June 7. The topic will be "God? What am I looking for?"

Thanks to Fair Trade Cafe who has been a gracious host for the past three years. We appreciate your hospitality. Most of us will still drop by and visit you on a regular occasion.

St. Brigid's Community

ST BRIGID’S COMMUNITY
A NEO-MONASTIC GATHERING

St. Brigid’s Community is a gathering of people who are committed to creating a pattern for their lives. This pattern includes the many facets of the prayer and practice of our Christian walk. The pattern of this community is one that is like being on a pilgrimage. Like being on a long walk that is more about the journey than the destination.

This pilgrimage is centered on monastic prayer. Monastic prayer is rhythmic. We pray daily. The Daily Office of The Book of Common Prayer informs our daily prayer life. This rhythmic prayer forms within the individual a merciful and a peaceful life.
Those of us in St. Brigid’s Community don’t live in a monastery. We strive to create a monastic-like experience for those who live near and far from our location. Hence, the name, “neo-monastic.” “Neo” meaning that we are people who live in the world yet have a deep yearn to be in a prayerful community; this is a new way to form this prayerful community.

If you are connected to St. Brigid’s Community in any way, through our worship services, the ecmasu.org website, or Peregrini, you are probably aware of the brief history available about St. Brigid, patron saint of Ireland. There are numerous websites dedicated to providing as much information as might be available pertaining to our chosen saint.

The reasons that St. Brigid was chosen as the guide and model for our community are four fold; 1) As an ordained woman she gave leadership to her community, 2) that community was established as the first monastery for both men and women, 3) while being true to her Celtic history she embraced Christianity, and 4) she served the poor of her community.
At St. Brigid’s Community we look to her as our model. We respect and support the ordained leadership of women. Our community is both for women and men. We hold to the importance of indigenous religious faith and the inclusion of all of God’s creation into our community. And we seek to serve Christ in the poor.

We exist as a neo-monastic community. This means that though we do not have a monastery. We instead exist in the world. While we do gather regularly in services for Eucharist and prayer at St. Augustine’s Episcopal Parish in Tempe, Arizona, many of the members of St. Brigid’s Community live outside our community and are not able to attend these gatherings. (Some live in other States or are abroad.)

To be part of St. Brigid’s Community we ask that you follow these simple practices.
First, write a letter to the elected prior of the community stating your desire to join. In your letter you should tell us why you want to be a member of the community.

Second, as a part of the letter please make a statement of your commitment to these practices: 1) to be under regular spiritual direction, 2) that under the guidance of your spiritual director you will be writing your own Rule of Life following the pattern of Benedictine Spirituality, 3) you will either pray with us in person or on your own for morning prayers or evening prayers each Tuesday 4) you will join us in the daily practice of reading The Benedictine Rule written by Joan Chittister and 5) you will join us or some other community for weekly Eucharist.

We have chosen to model our rule of life after that established by St. Benedict. It is one of the oldest and most widely used rules still today. Its beauty is in its simplicity and flexibility. Reading Chittister’s interpretation of the Benedictine Rule make it applicable for lives lived in the twenty-first century.

A personal rule should reflect the desire of the heart to live a Christian life that serves Christ and the world. Each person, with the guidance of a spiritual director, develops his or her own rule.

And finally, after receiving affirmation of your intention, you will be considered an aspirant for the community of St. Brigid. For a period of at least six months we will pray with you as you seek to follow and possibly modify your own rule. Following the six-month period you will be asked to write the community a letter reviewing your progress and restating your desire to become a member of St. Brigid’s Community. Establishing yourself as a member of St. Brigid’s Community is something you will want to consider prayerfully as it will change and form for your life for years to come.

The community will review your letter and communicate with you acceptance into St. Brigid’s Community. Hopefully in person, or via the Internet you will be accepted as a member. Members are given a St. Brigid’s Community cross that they may wear.

Member’s will continue their Rule and prayer practice as well as commit to praying for the St. Brigid’s Community each day and making a contribution to the work of serving Christ in the poor. That contribution will be of your own choosing and location. You may contribute to the work at St. Brigid’s Community in Tempe but that is not required.

We will be in prayer with you as you consider becoming a member of St. Brigid’s Community and we look forward to hearing from you.

You can contact us via this blog or at gstafford3@cox.net or by writing to St. Augustine's Episcopal Parish 1735 S. College Ave. Tempe, AZ 85281 - you can check out our website at ecmasu.org or asu.azdiocese.org or staugustine.azdiocese.org

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday 2007

Got an email from someone yesterday asking me what was acceptable to “give up” for Lent? That’s the usual question isn’t it? What am I going to give up this year?

The better question may be to ask why do I want to give up whatever it is I am going to sacrifice. Well, I could give up eating dessert. Besides, by giving up dessert I could kill two birds with one stone – make a sacrifice and lose weight all at the same time. I’m going to give up eating chocolate, or stop smoking, or quit drinking. All good things to stop doing and all for good reasons.

At some point, though, it almost sounds like a New Year’s resolution. Of which, I recall, few of us ever wind up keeping.

What I pray is that the season of Lent is more meaningful than making some temporary sacrifice. My hope is that Lent can be a place where we can lay some things aside so that there might be some space in our lives for God to create formation within us. Let me offer three suggestions for creating space in our lives.

First, simplicity. The spiritual life is best lived in simplicity. But, living in our world in a simple manner is really difficult. Most of us would probably like to live simpler lives but we also have to acknowledge that that might not be possible. I don’t have any easy answers.

A few years ago, a friend suggested to me that every day I leave the house with either something to throw away or give away. It does make me mindful of the amount of just “stuff” that I have. Simplify, my friend told me.

Slowing down, taking time to breathe, taking a long slow walk, cleaning out the garage, all things that can help us simplify our lives.

Simplifying my life can create space in it for God to do God’s work of forming me and molding me into a useful vessel. A vessel that can serve others.

Second, solidarity. Besides being a time of “giving up,” Lent can also be a time of giving. Being in solidarity with someone or a cause that needs our help. It might be an organization that could use some of our time. Maybe a neighbor needs us to fix them dinner or mow their lawn. Possibly someone in our family needs our attention. By being in solidarity with someone in need, we are ministering to our Lord Jesus. Jesus tells that when we minister to least of these we are ministering to Jesus.

Finally, community. When we gather in community we strengthen and encourage one another. We all need the community to come along aside us and walk with us as we journey through the season of Lent. Walking by ourselves is lonely and we can lose our way, but by joining hands with one another we can be assured that we will make our way out of the desert of Lent.

What’s acceptable to give up for Lent? That’s a really good question that takes some time to ponder and pray over. Whatever you decide, I pray that you can create a little extra space for God to do some work. The Lord be with you and those to whom you serve and love.

Saint Brigid

February 1st is the celebration of the feast of St. Brigid. Second only to St. Patrick, she is one of the most venerated saints of Ireland. She lived in Kildare in the late 5th and early 6th century. Many legends and tales have emerged from this era which has little documented history. Some have suggested that much of what is known about her is the blended stories of Celtic Christianity.

As best as can be known she was someone who cared deeply for the poor. She started and led a monastery for both men and women; something obviously quite rare. She also may have the first female bishop. Though, possibly ordained as such by accident, she still managed the monastic community with the authority of a bishop.

What is important for the community around which many of us gather here in Tempe, Arizona is that we hold up St. Brigid as someone to model. A woman who led a monastic community of women and men. She provided episcopal leadership for her community that existed to serve and care for the poor of Kildare.

It is this model that reveres and respects the leadership of women in communities of women and men that we admire. Especially Christian communities that exist to serve others. We seek to emulate her Celtic understandings of prayer and practice. And we desire to call others into this experience with us.

In the next few months we will begin reaching out to create St. Brigid's Community. It will be a group of people who may meet regularly to worship, prayer and serve together - as well, it will be nourished by those who can not meet regularly with us but instead are a part of internet community.

St. Brigid's Community will be Benedictine and follow the Rule of Life. We will pattern ourselves after St. Brigid's monastery of women and men. We seek to worship, pray and serve.

If you're interested in such a community check back here and then let me know and I will send along more specific information. The Lord be with you.

Oh yes, how could I forget - St. Brigid said, or at least some believe she said, that paradise would be to find God and all the saints in a huge lake of beer. Well tonight, celebrate as a saint with Brigid and all the saints and have a cold one.

Santa Barbara Writer's Workshop

My brain is on fire. Fueled by Nora Gallagher, Barbara Brown Taylor and the hospitality of Mt. Calvary Monastery. Six days of uninterrupted writing. Seminars conducted by two gifted women who have earned the right to critique and mentor. Daily bathed in the rhythmic prayers of the Brothers of the Mt. Calvary Monastery. If this is heaven then I’m pitching a tent.

The Louisville Institute selected twenty writers. Each writer has published. All came with a hunger for spiritual writing. The group was ecumenical, Baptist, Catholic, Congregational, Episcopal, Methodist, Presbyterian, Reformed. The occupations varied, non-profit, consultant, professor, professional writer, and clergy. The group was eclectic. However not ethnically diverse; this is puzzling and troubling.

Nora Gallagher has authored Things Seen and Unseen and Practicing Resurrection. She has a first novel arriving in bookstores Changing Light. Barbara Brown Taylor has authored several books her latest being Leaving Church. Having read all but Nora’s new novel I find their work models of how to question the church while still loving it. Their writing inspires readers both those in and out of the church.

We were challenged to approach writing with the same reverence and discipline of a spiritual practice. The daily exercise of writing expects its own attention. Told to forget everything we learned in school about writing, we were liberated to begin to think creatively. I was surprised how exhausted I was at the end of each day.

Gallagher is edgy, direct, precise and thorough. She listens with piercing eyes. She speaks with long fingers. Her cautious smile is tempered by the turns in life’s labyrinth.

Religious clichés are screens against reality, Nora warned us. They are dangerous because of their use by the powerful to maintain the status quo. Reality, she said, lies behind the cliché. Writing must come out of an experience generated through the body. Provoked, writers must continually ask themselves, “What is this story really about.” Understanding the difference between circumstance and story will bring life to words.

Taylor’s twenty years of priestly ministry can be seen in her gaze. She laughs at herself easily. Her subtle accent softens provocative words. Her gentle southern manner lowers defenses long enough for stories to find their exact mark.

Among Barbara’s offering were four steps and four tools for the scientific act of creativity. Preparation, incubation, illumination and translation comprise the process. Some of the tools include being aware of creativity already possessed, binding the internal critic, attending to detail and releasing of the inexhaustible curiosity.

Both presenters had the focused scope of memoir. Each has experience with other genre, however, little time was set aside for those discussions.

The participants brought a 2500 word piece. Our work was shared, reviewed, and critiqued. We each had the opportunity for a private consult with our teachers. The two made themselves regularly available for questions and counsel. Their energy and love for their craft is contagious.

I left the seminar with new confidence in my writing. Gaining an understanding of my weaknesses and now feeling I have the tools to improve. I now have a colony of compadres who will encourage and question. This allows me to venture into unexplored areas of interest. Most importantly, I am in better touch with my writing. The new found relationship has released the inner self onto the page.

Humbled by the breaking of bread with the community. Nourished by sharing communion with new friends. Pushed to move outside of comfort zones. My prayer is that the fire in my brain will burn continually. Burning incense that will rise into the images of the reader.

The situation and the story

I'm here at the Mt. Calvary Monastary emersed in the Writer's Workshop with Nora Gallagher and Barbara Brown Taylor. My brain is on fire. My soul is raw, exposed on the ledge. The winds are blowing intensely at the mouth of the canyon. And the Spirit is equally carving on my stone exterior to reveal the part of me that needs to escape and be known.

Nora asked us the defeaning question, "what is your story about?" The situation is the event. It's the diary I keep each day describing life's circumstances. The story however lies between the lies, sometimes more obvious than others. Her example was Moby Dick. The situation is a man on the hunt of a whale. The story is obsession.

Our exercise, simple and unassuming, was to write for five minutes about our favorite dessert. So here goes. I'll share my little story with you.

my favorite dessert

My favorite dessert is a handful of EL Fudge cookies and a glass of Jamieson. Somehow they go so well together. Particularly after a day of hospitals and existential crisis brought on by demons seen and unseen, the pleasure of chocolate icing in a vanilla cookie with aged whiskey eases the evils of the world back into a corner where the gate can be closed at least long enough to sleep for a few hours. And when the hours before cookies and milk have pushed against my anger button by some asshole of proportion only equal to their own shitness, well, biting the heads off of some unsuspecting elf downed with a straight shot kicks the ass of that fucking bastard that much the better.

Ok, there it is. Situation and story.

Barbara gave tips on how to bind the critic. Free writing, free association, writing without editing, having a dialogue with your critic, all of these techniques are intended to free the writer from their own worst enemy - the critic who lies within all writers. We need the critic; to determine if we are speaking to the audience. Most importantly writers need to be in an open relationship with their critic. Easier to write than to do. Hopefully, this week, my critic went home for awhile and left me to my own worst end and best writing.

I have, I believe done of some of my best work this week. Time will tell. More later.

Monastary & Writing

I'm sitting in a windowed room at Mt. Calvary Monastary in Santa Barbara, CA. It's on a hill overlooking the city and now I can see the lights not only of the city but of ships on the ocean. Santa Barbara faces the south which means you can see the sun rise and set over the ocean from this location. That is a metaphor for life at the monastary and for being at this writer's workshop.

Nora Gallagher, author of Things Seen and Unseen and Practicing Resurrection, and Barbara Brown Taylor, author of Leaving Church, are the guides for the week. Sponsored by the Louisville Institute and funded by a Lily Grant, the workshop has gathered 20 published writers for a focus on spiritual writing. I feel privileged to have been invited and humbled by my collegues.

Several of the attendees have published multiple volumes, some in their academic field, other memoirs and journalistic pieces. The intent is to provide writer's with an opportunity to enhance the depth of their writing by being able to enact in a writer's colony setting.

The monastary is Benedictine and Anglican. The monks pray the hours, Lauds, Noon Day, Vespers and Compline, inviting their guests to join them at each worship experience. They operate the monastary as a retreat house. They grow most of their own vegetables, provide a large library, sell books and coffee.

Each day we are given large blocks of time to write. We review each others work and have consultations with our two leaders. Both offer daily sessions intended to connect us with our writing. Getting lost in one's writing is easy. This is a gift. I intend to make well use of the lessons learned.

As the week proceeds I will post some of the comments and ideas that Gallagher and Brown are sharing with us.