Missionary Mantras

Possibly the worst fail ever.

2010-01-09T07:35:00.000-08:00

Resolution to the Global Young People's Convocation

2009-12-31T16:46:00.000-08:00

Hey, folks! Happy New Year!!! The current Young Adult Missionaries have been experiencing some difficulties with the General Board of Global Ministries for some time. This wasn't at all helped during the recent restructuring at the Board; in fact we've experienced even less support. There are currently NO STAFF MEMBERS assigned directly to youth and young adult programs at the GBGM. The Missionary in Residence for Young Adult Programs (MIRYAP) position has been eliminated, and the Executive Secretary for Young Adult Programs position remains unfilled since Suzanne Field-Rabb left the post in October. We have drafted the following legislation to the Global Young People's Convocation in June and are looking for as much support as we can get! The deadline is tonight and I'm trying to get a few more signatures before we send it off. If you support this legislation, please respond with your program and class year! Thanks so much, and have a happy and safe New Year!!

Grace and Peace,
Jamie Michaels
US-2 class of 2007

Resolution in Support of Major Changes in the Approach to Young Adult Missionary Programs of the General Board of Global Ministries of the United Methodist Church

Submitted by concerned members of the 2007 class of the US-2 and Mission Intern Programs to the Legislative Assembly of the Global Young People’s Convocation

Financial Implications: Yes

Section I: General Petition Information

Since their beginnings the Young Adult Mission Programs of the UMC (Mission Intern, US-2, Summer Intern, and Global Justice Volunteers) have been crucial in training young adults to live out the Gospel call and develop their leadership skills to be future leaders within the church and in the wider society.

Section II: Purpose

To address the lack of structural support for Young Adult Missions programs (Mission Intern, US-2, Global Justice Volunteers) housed under the General Board of Global Ministries (GBGM) of the United Methodist Church.

Section III: Resolution

WHEREAS, the Mission Intern and US-2 programs (The Mission Intern and US-2 programs are respectively three-year and two-year social justice, mission and leadership development opportunities for young adults-18-30 years old.) over the past three years have experienced a great amount of transition and lack of support from the GBGM and the staff assigned to working with Young Adult Missionaries, especially since the elimination of the Missionary in Residence for Young Adult Programs (MIRYAP) position (one who serves as a representative and advocate for Young adults in mission at GBGM's New York Office),

WHEREAS, the Mission Intern and US-2 classes of 2007 have experienced from GBGM an overall lack of recognition of their importance as representatives of the United Methodist Church and servants of God in the world, as demonstrated in that only a small percentage of the global body of United Methodists are aware of the Young Adult Programs,

WHEREAS, young adult participants in these programs have experienced the truth of the GBGM's statement that, "Youth and young adults are not just the hope of the church for tomorrow; they are the leadership of the church today," and have heard "the prophetic voices of communities and individuals around the world," and have applied their experiences with "energy, vision, enthusiasm, and motivated by deep faith," thus "transforming themselves and the world,"

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED THAT, if at the time of voting on this resolution the existing staff positions designed to support young adult programming at the GBGM responsible for the Young Adult Programs remain unfilled, we call upon Young People’s Ministries to pressure the General Board of Discipleship to pressure the General Board of Global Ministries to fill these current staff openings to run the Young Adult Programs,

BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED THAT, the GBGM in consultation with current and former Young Adult Missionaries redesign and reinstate the position of MIRYAP and fill it as soon as possible,

BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED THAT, the GBGM in consultation with current and former Young Adult Missionaries form a working group consisting of current and former Young Adult Missionaries from all existing programs; the missionary associations of Standard Support Missionaries, Church and Community Workers, and Deaconess/Home Missioners; representatives from the Board and Staff of GBGM; representatives from Women's Division; and Board members from the Division of Young People's Ministries be formed to evaluate the structure, staffing, and general support for Young Adult Mission Programs.

Section V: Implementation

This resolution will take effect immediately upon passage by the General Assembly.

Building a Firm Foundation

2009-06-22T18:12:00.000-07:00

This is the sermon I preached a week ago at Park City Community Church. They are doing a 'Year Through the Bible' series, and they were on Ezra. I hadn't read the book for a long time, and for some reason I remember it being a much more captivating text. Turns out Ezra rails against interracial marriage at the end. Nevertheless, here's the message:

Ezra 2:68-70, 3:10-11
"Building A Firm Foundation"
Park City Community Church
Park City, Utah
June 14, 2009

I have a confession to make to you all. I know what you must be thinking: we don’t even know this girl, and already she’s confessing things to us? But I feel like before we go any further I should tell you, in the interest of full disclosure: I didn’t grow up in the West. In fact, I hadn’t even visited the West until I moved here in February. So please forgive my obviously inferior East Coast background. I didn’t grow up United Methodist, either. In fact, I didn’t even grow up in a Christian Church, I was named and raised in a Unitarian Universalist Church in the South. Needless to say, when I first visited the UMC in Davidson, North Carolina where I was eventually was baptized, I didn’t understand the theological nuance of the protestant churches. I didn’t understand the structure, or the liturgy, or even the practical application the church should have in my life. But I loved the music. I loved the history of the music, and the lyrics to the hymns taught me a great deal of the theology I still hold today. I have a clear memory of sitting on the front row of the balcony singing, ‘The church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord.’ Looking back on that hymn now, I’m sure the language was foreign and jarring to me. Certainly having grown up in a pacifist household, the language this hymn contains about war and blood sacrifice was a little… gruesome(?) for my taste. But I loved the history and pageantry of that grand hymn. I loved the idea of all of us progressing towards one goal together… “one holy name she blesses, partakes one holy food, and to one hope she presses with every grace endued.” That is, the hope of peace. I remember especially singing over and over in my head all week long one line from that song: “but saints their watch are keeping, their cry goes up, ‘how long?’ And soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.”

Pray with me: God of all that is and all that shall be, be with us in the hearing and the understanding of your word. Be with us as we lay a foundation that will help us transform weeping into singing, and sorrow into joy. Amen.

When we come to the start of the book of Ezra, the Israelites have been exiled from their homeland for some 60 years. The Lord has just moved the spirit of King Cyrus, through the preaching of Jeremiah the prophet, to allow the exiled Israelites to return, and to rebuild the Temple of the Lord in Jerusalem. The Temple had been ransacked, pillaged, and burned, and the Israelites likely returned to a landscape that was very different from the one they’d left six decades prior. But they would have undoubtedly grown up with stories of their homelands, so upon entry into Jerusalem and the surrounding area, no one has trouble finding their family’s villages.

I wonder what that entry into Jerusalem would have looked like. What would it have felt like to be one of the Priests, leading all the families into the Holy City, and coming upon the ruins of this Holy place? Having been gone 60 years, there are just a few among the Israelites who would have been old enough at the time of the exile to recall the Temple before it was destroyed. But most of the 50,000 or so returnees would be coming back to the land of their mothers and fathers, a land which many had never seen. Can you imagine? I imagine the older members of the community, who were around pre-exile, making their way towards the front of the crowd, falling on their knees, kissing the stones. For so long they had worshiped without a place, without a home, sometimes probably losing hope they’d ever see Jerusalem again. Now God was fulfilling God’s promise! Finally there was a king, a ruler under whom they would not be persecuted on account of their faith. Talk about a hallelujah moment! Standing on this Holy Ground, I imagine a song starting softly, then growing through the crowd: this is the Church’s foundation. Here the stones were laid, and though the walls have fallen, the foundation cannot be shaken. Here we will rebuild. Our night of weeping shall become a morning of song.

I have tried to think of an equivalent experience in modern history. I have trouble coming up with an answer, partly because the US has seen so many immigrant waves, and we are taught that we live in a land “of the free”. Seldom here in the US do we see a group of people returning to a land that’s been denied them, though certainly there are Native Americans and First Peoples here for whom the experience of exile is very, very real. Mostly though, I think I have trouble imagining this because as a person of privilege, the right to exist in my family’s homeland has never been questioned for me. Never having been denied that right, it’s hard for me to imagine just how moving the experience of return would be.

In the coming weeks, months, and years, the Israelites would re-settle their land. I wonder what that time was like. Planting groves of olive and lemon trees, re-establishing trade, participating in those early burnt sacrifices at the place the Temple would be rebuilt. The villages formerly inhabited by the Israelite families were now undoubtedly filled with others – occupiers, settlers. I wonder too, when King Cyrus told the Israelites to come home, and 50,000 of them came filing into Greater Jerusalem, who were they displacing? Who had to leave so they could come home? Where did those people go? Later in this narrative we hear Ezra re-instating the law of God for the people. His biggest concern is that the Israelites have begun to intermarry with these occupiers. He calls for the purification of the people, and the subsequent exile of the spouses and children of these interracial marriages. That’s a hard truth to acknowledge, especially as we do celebrate the return of God’s people to God’s Holy City.

I can’t read the story of the return from exile without thinking about the current fight over the right to exist in Jerusalem. The history of the Jewish people as told in the Torah tells us in great detail the pain of exile, the hardship of being detached from one’s homeland, how hard it is to sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land. And yet today, the Torah is being used to justify the exile of thousands upon thousands of people from Jerusalem and from the land we now call Israel. The Palestinian people have been exiled from their homeland now for some 60 years. During the Israeli settlement after World War II and for the 60 years since, Palestinians have been forced from their homes, their land, their farms, their villages, their jobs, their way of life. They have been crammed into a mere fraction of the land they once tended and cared for. Rights to electricity, food, building materials, and water have been denied them. They are forbidden to cross the boundaries of this new country, and access to trade is denied them as well. And the Wall. The Wall has been built dividing fields in two, separating family from family, an apartheid wall, creating what some call the largest open-air prison on Earth, a feat achieved through the strength of the fourth largest military force in the world. The old song echoes for me again, ‘Saints their watch are keeping, their cry goes up, ‘how long?’” But when will this weeping turn to song? When will this war-ravaged place again spring forth with joy and peace?

The account we have in Ezra of the return of the Israelites to Jerusalem doesn’t begin that way. The faithful people of God are setting a new foundation, establishing a community that won’t be so easily shaken next time, and they are doing it under the laws of God. There are several things that strike me about the values of this process.

First, the author makes it clear that everyone has a place to live. From the Priests (who have the highest place in the Temple hierarchy) and the Levites, all the way down to the Temple servants, who don’t even have Israelite names, had a place in Jerusalem and its vicinity. Everyone had a place to live, and everyone had access to the grounds of the Temple.

Second, the rebuilding of the Temple was regarded as an activity of the whole community, and not just of the King, as had been the case with King Solomon. The Temple was a place where everyone was going to worship together, so it is only fitting that everyone should have a part in its building. When the Israelites do reach Jerusalem, they hold a goodwill offering, and everyone sacrifices just a little, everyone gives whatever they are able, each according to what they possess.

Third, there is evidence in the text of the masons, carpenters, and suppliers of building materials for the temple being adequately compensated with money, food, drink, and oil. The Israelites clearly valued the humane treatment of all people, without regard for religion, race, or country of origin.

These were the kinds of things that characterized the building period of the Second Temple. This became the church’s foundation – not its physical foundation, but its spiritual foundation. The enacting of policies which treat all people justly and with equity, these were the things vitally necessary to the Israelites living out God’s call and promise for their lives.

And that’s not so different from today. Aren’t those the things that characterize what our spiritual foundation must be? What are the things in our community of believers which are vitally necessary to our living out of God’s call and promise for us? Aren’t they similar to those of the Israelites?

First, we must provide for one another. We have a mutual responsibility to one another. The community cannot prosper if we fail to look after the needs of our brothers and sisters. The Israelites accomplished this by ensuring a safe place to live for the whole of the community. What does it look like for us? Does it mean caring for the homeless and food insecure in our communities? Does it mean providing for the care of our children and for those who are aging? Does it mean treating one another with dignity and hearing one another’s story?

Second, we exist in community and we must nurture that community. It’s a privilege to journey with one another, to share a history with and to learn from one another. It’s a privilege to share one another’s joys, like the hallelujah moment the Israelites shared upon their entrance into Jerusalem. It is also a responsibility. Being a part of a community asks us to bear one another’s burdens, and to share with the community the abundance that has been given us. How does that look for us today? Perhaps it means giving our time in service to one another or to the church, as I see many of you lay leaders doing today. Perhaps it means sharing in fellowship, food, and fun with one another and building each other up. Perhaps it means re-assessing where our resources are being spent – individually, as a community, as a country, as a planet.

And third, we must commit ourselves to the just treatment of others. It can hardly be debated that Christians are called to this task: to love neighbor as self. How can I love my neighbor if my actions treat her with less dignity than I treat myself? Our United Methodist Social Principles put it this way: “We affirm all persons as equally valuable in the sight of God. We therefore work toward societies in which each person’s value is recognized, maintained, and strengthened. We support the basic rights of all persons to equal access to housing, education, communication, employment, medical care, legal redress for grievances, and physical protection. We deplore acts of hate or violence against groups or persons based on race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, or economic status.” That’s a pretty powerful statement on our call to others, and I think it bears repeating: “We affirm all persons as equally valuable in the sight of God. We therefore work toward societies in which each person’s value is recognized, maintained, and strengthened. We support the basic rights of all persons to equal access to housing, education, communication, employment, medical care, legal redress for grievances, and physical protection. We deplore acts of hate or violence against groups or persons based on race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, or economic status.”

Beloved, these are the bricks and mortar of our spiritual foundation as we move forward in our calling. For the Israelites, for us, and for generations of Christians to come, these are the principles which must guide our feet and hands as we build the church in the name of God. Who will build the church? We will. Can we do it alone? No. We need one another.

As you heard earlier, I am a Missionary for the United Methodist Church working with Rev. Brian Diggs at the new United Methodist Committee on Relief Depot in Salt Lake City. This new depot is gathering supplies and assembling them into relief kits to send to disaster areas around the world. Health kits, cleaning buckets to aid in flood and disaster cleanup, school bags, clean birthing kits and more will be distributed from our facility right here in Utah. In the coming months and years you too will have the opportunity to be a part of this ministry, to be a part of building this particular corner of the church. For me, working at the Depot has been an opportunity to give action to the principles God asks us to lay in our foundation. It is seldom glamorous, and often dirty. But working together to love and provide for the safekeeping of our brothers and sisters around the world is our calling as Christians.

As we struggle to discern what that means, as we begin to question our own lifestyles and the practices of our church and our country, and as the church struggles through the tumult of war, awaiting the consummation of peace, the old hymn gives me solace, and a glimmer of hope, as once again it assures me that ‘saints their watch are keeping, their cry goes up, ‘how long?’ and soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.’ Amen.

The Reconciling South

2009-06-15T11:33:00.000-07:00

Woo Hoo Mississippi Annual Conference! A powerful witness to reconciliation. Wait for the video to load and scroll to about 24 minutes. At one point Connie says "When you call God your father, you just don't get to choose who your brothers and your sisters are." Preach it, sister!

It looks like the Mississippi Annual Conference as a whole will study reconciliation during the season of Lent next year. Love it!

Another short quip

2009-06-12T12:37:00.001-07:00

I know I haven't /really/ written in awhile. We've had our first two out-of-town groups come through the depot now, and I'd like to reflect on that but haven't had the time. I also want to write about the work of Utahns for a Just Peace in the Holy Land, and soon there will be another sermon posted. But for now, I leave you with this piece by Emily Farnell, a student at UNC Chapel Hill, member of the Wesley Foundation, board member for the General Board of Church and Society (GBCS) of the United Methodist Church, and prophetic young voice in the UMC. She wrote this really challenging piece on the new "Rethinking Church" Campaign:

"Rethinking Church...or whatever." By Emily Farnell

I am a young person. By going to the Rethink Church website, I am suppose to feel more engaged and more welcome to the church. To speak plainly, I feel like it’s an irrelevant, unimaginitive ploy that is condescending to young people, both churched and unchurched. I’ll give it to the people who created the campaign: the color scheme and the edgy doors on the website and the Mustafa from the Lion King narration on the commercials is initially sort of catchy, but it lacks the depth that my analytical, contemplative, and inquisitive generation starves for.

Rethink Church uses a series of cliches like “what if we were a 1000 doors” and my favorite, “What if church was not just about Sunday but be about the rest of the days of the week.” The UNC Wesley Foundation has weekly worship and eucharist on Sunday evenings and Eucharist, dinner and a program on Thursday evenings. We have Bible studies and small groups throughout the week, we eat together at the Old Well on Mondays, we have intramural teams, mission teams that do local, national, and global ministry and we are a community that supports each other and glorifies God with our gifts, time, presence, and prayers. Church is a everyday thing at Wesley. We are a community of faith that is relevant and is still clinging to its Wesleyan roots. Yes, we are what the general church always says it desires to be. We sing hymns (yeah, like legit hymns), discuss theology, doctrine, and scripture and then reason out the implications that they have in our lives as Disciples of Jesus Christ as well as in our roles as academics, citizens, future parents, future spouses, room mates, teammates, and friends. We aren’t rethinking the church. We are progressively thinking and exploring what it could and what it will be. The UNC Wesley Foundation facilitates a safe space for students to grow. I like to think of it as a hotbed of hope.

This is my fourth annual conference, and I have learned in my short experience that the idea of apportionments kinda freak people out. Apportionments pay for ministry and we pay these apportionments hoping that the individuals chosen to determine how these monies are spent make good decisions. The Rethink campaign has spent MILLIONS of apportionment dollars in web, tv, and print advertising. All the while, the Methodist campus ministries at universities across North Carolina receive meager funds for programming from our Annual Conference. You want me to rethink about church? How about we rethink the way we value our ministries that are radically transforming and reforming young people? How about we rethink who we consult (or don’t consult) when we’re spending money?

See this piece at Emily's blog, here.

Remembering Dr. George Tiller

2009-06-01T10:24:00.000-07:00

Dr. George Tiller was murdered in his Lutheran Church in Wichita, Kansas yesterday (May 31, 2009). Dr. Tiller dedicated his life to giving women excellent health care and to defending the right to choice and to privacy of women everywhere. Amy Goodman of Democracy Now hosted a really wonderful piece on his life and work - if you have a few minutes, you should watch it.

10 things you didn't know...

2009-05-27T14:29:00.000-07:00

About orgasm. Thank you, Mary Roach!

Even Me - Acts 1:15-26

2009-05-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

I was asked to preach this past Sunday at my church in Holladay. Here's the message.

Scripture Text: Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

May 24, 2009 – Holladay UCC

Rachel Corrie was a young American activist whose life was ended on March 16, 2003 in Rafah, Gaza. Rachel Corrie was killed as she stood between a Palestinian home and the Israeli bulldozer by which that home was about to be demolished. Rachel Corrie was 23 when she was murdered. I am now 23 years old. I have started reading Rachel’s journals; they’ve been compiled into a book called Let Me Stand Alone. In the days before she left her hometown of Olympia, Washington to live in a war torn land occupied by the fourth largest military in the world, Rachel expresses a sentiment I can relate to: “I can’t imagine Palestine,” she writes. “They say we are invited there. I can’t believe this can be true. Even me?” Today let’s use Luke’s story in Acts to ask ourselves: What inspires us to keep on going even when we feel inadequate? Even when we are asking, ‘even me?’

Pray with me: Guide our feet, God. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our strength and our redeemer.

It is easy for me to identify with the feeling of rejection. That feeling creeps up silently; it slides into the pit of my stomach, perches on my shoulder and whispers all of my faults into my ear. Perhaps it is the ease with which that feeling takes over that makes me so uncomfortable reading this passage about the apostles. Imagine, for a moment that you are Barsabbas, called Justus. Eleven of your closest friends – with whom you’ve eaten, slept, traveled, seen miracles, been celebrated, been admonished, and most recently with whom you’ve watched your teacher and friend brutally put to death – eleven of your closest friends have called together your rag-tag movement, which now consists of about 120 men, women, and children. The purpose of this meeting: to choose someone to replace another lost friend, Judas Iscariot. Out of 120 gathered, only two of you have been selected as candidates to be apostles. You ask yourself, “even me?” There you stand with your friend Matthias beside you, and your buddies have decided, of all things, to throw dice to see which one of you will join them in rounding out the twelve apostles. These twelve will be the leaders of the young church – they will be responsible for spreading the news about Jesus’ life and resurrection – and they’re going to pick between you, literally, by a throw of the dice? What would inspire you to keep going?

For those few months I walked nervously to the mailbox every day. I checked my phone messages cautiously and anxiously. I couldn’t go ten minutes without wondering when I’d get word. It was two years ago; I had finished my undergraduate work in December, had been living with my family for 5 months, and was ready (as any restless twenty-something) to move on. I prayed every night for God to open a path – and I was sure this was the right one. I had applied to the Mission Intern program of the United Methodist Church. A year and a half abroad and then a chance to come home and apply what I’d learned for another 16 months here… I was positive it was what I was supposed to do: I was going to move to South America again, teach English or work for rainforest preservation. I was going to encounter poverty in a real way. I was going to be totally fluent in a local Spanish dialect. I was going to come home tan and worldly and my family would gush over my colorful photos and stories of how we’d been tear-gassed for protesting anti-union policies at the factories. I had the credentials… I spoke the language already, I had a good understanding of mission as social justice, I even had experience living and teaching in South America. My heart was back in Ecuador and I couldn’t wait to go back. It had been weeks since I’d turned in my application, and every day without a response was killing me. Finally a letter, a thick package of information, a rush of excitement, a torn envelope, and the words: “Dear Jamie, Grace and Peace. We regret to inform you…”

Well, no matter how many times I looked, this is what the text reads. “And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.” It’s not particularly encouraging. It’s not what I want the story to say. Justus and Matthias are obviously equally qualified, as they’re both selected as candidates. I want there to be a place for both of them! Why say “Here I am, Lord!” if you’re going to get shot down? Why let yourself be that vulnerable? When I read this text, I want to slink to the back of the room and hide in a corner. Evidently, I’m inadequate. Evidently, someone else is better for the job. And there is very little in this story which pushes me to keep going.

Prior to this passage, we are told that the disciples have been in the company of the risen Jesus for some 40 days (in biblical terms, a good long while). Before he leaves them, he says, “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in all Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to all the ends of the earth.”

These witnesses, these apostles, will have a difficult and daunting job. Arguably, they will have one of the most important and prominent places in the history of the church. And yet, when it comes time to choose a leader, there is no IQ test. There is no geography or language test. There are no speeches, no campaigns, no resumes, no transcripts. There are only three requirements to be an apostle, according to this account. The candidate must have traveled with Jesus from the baptism of John onward, must have been witness to the resurrection, and be a man. It bears mentioning here that the text tells us that gathered there also are women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, who together with the men “were constantly devoting themselves to prayer”. Certainly it’s not outrageous to imagine that some of these women may have been witness to Jesus’ teaching and to his resurrection. Aren’t they good enough? Are they not also called to witness to what they have seen? It’s not been two months since Jesus’ execution and already the apostles seem to have forgotten that it’s the women who first bear witness to Jesus’ resurrection in the first place! In a society that shouts at women to keep their mouths shut, it’s not hard for me to imagine a woman’s response to a call to ministry: “Are you sure, God? Even me?”

I experienced rejection on a personal, situational level. Imagine – and many of us don’t have to – imagine for a moment that your experience of rejection is not merely situational, and is not even based on your qualification for any given task. Imagine what it might feel like to be rejected merely for who you are. For many of us who ask ‘even me,’ the whole of society answers “no”. You are a woman: you’re not strong enough. You are a person of color: your voice doesn’t count enough. You are a young person: you do not know enough. You are gay or lesbian: you’re not good enough. You have a physical or mental disability: you are a burden. You are an immigrant: your English isn’t good enough. You are an introvert: you’re not a good enough public speaker. You are an artist and an activist: we don’t like what you have to say. Friends, I have to tell you: this is not the gospel answer. I believe that the reality of Easter, of resurrection, holds a different message for us. And I find it not so much in what our text this morning reads as what is absent when we read it.

We’re not told much about what it means to cast lots. From what I can tell, the process usually includes clay dice, thrown to make a decision. Psalm 68 says this about the practice: “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.” It was understood in many circles to be the means by which a decision made by God was made known to the community. It was the primary way most leadership positions in the temple were decided. If lots are cast, if dice are rolled, there can be no accusation of nepotism or favoritism. There can be no playing politics – everyone has an equal chance of selection. This is not merely a random choice, and it’s not a popularity contest; this is a deliberate attempt at equality.

Nor does Matthias’ selection diminish the importance in the community of our would-be apostle Justus or any of the other women and men gathered. On the contrary, it signifies that all the believers were equally important. This was a position that had to be filled, but Matthias isn’t shown to a corner office once he’s been chosen. In fact, neither he nor Justus are ever mentioned by name again in the scriptures. Now if it was the title that was important, we might expect to hear more about the astounding things Matthias was empowered to do, and after this selection it would have been easy for Justus to slink to the back of the room and give up. But we have no indication that Justus does anything of the sort. We are not all called to have the prominence of apostles. We are not all called to have our names and stories glorified in history. We are not all called to be Alice Paul, or Martin Luther King, or Desmond Tutu, or Harvey Milk. Some of us are called to be foot soldiers in the movement, without whose help these leaders would have no movement to front. You see, it is not being chosen for prominence which ordains us to or qualifies us for ministry: it is our baptism. It is our belonging to a community which witnesses to the resurrection.

“Dear Jamie: Grace and Peace. We regret to inform you…” I don’t mind telling you that I shed many tears over that letter two years ago. I felt insufficient, inadequate, lost. But there was a second sentence. “We affirm your call to ministry and mission and we’d like you instead to interview for our domestic program.” I was so sure I was supposed to go back to South America… to stay here in the US would cause me to re-think my whole trajectory. And coming to accept my not being chosen as a part of God’s plan for me has been one of the most difficult roads I’ve ever walked. I don’t wish to tell you that rejection isn’t painful: it is. I don’t mean to tell you that something better always lies ahead: it doesn’t. I do mean to say that on every path, we have the opportunity to learn from one another and to bear witness to this Gospel truth: God says “YES” to even me, to even you. Down this path countless blessings have waited for me: the first Christian community I’d ever been a part of who preached open acceptance of all God’s people, the opportunity to discover myself as an artist, countless encounters which have asked me to challenge my position as a person of privilege, relationships which have nourished my spirit, swept my path clear, and encouraged me to take risks. Moreover, my experience of situational rejection prepared me to respond to rejection on a systemic level. My favorite folk singer puts it this way: I could have sat around mourning the loss of the life I could have lived, but there’s no life “at all if I don’t make my move and just trust that the timing is right… and hold it up to the light.”

We’re called to step up, take risks, and take on roles we’re not sure we’re ready for. It’s not because we will achieve fame, or glory, or popularity. It’s not because it will make us feel good to have helped. It’s not out of a sense of guilt. We’re called to step up, take risks, and take on roles we’re not sure we’re ready for because we are empowered by our baptism to do so. It’s because God’s call to us is always collaborative. It’s because we have been granted the privilege and the responsibility of being co-creators with God. Beloved, you have been chosen by something larger than a club, or a crowd, or even a country. You have been chosen by God! What can inspire us to keep going even when we feel inadequate? This: we were created in God’s image. God intends for each of us to do wonderful things, whether the lot falls on us or not. In this light, Rachel Corrie’s words are not so much a question as a statement: Even me. With God there is a place even for me, even for you. Let us be empowered to live into that promise.

Amen.

when i die, will they call me tsitra

2009-05-21T10:57:00.000-07:00

evil ot tnaw i
sroloc thgirb ni
demahsa eb ton dna

sllaw ym tniap ot tnaw i
naelurec dna neerg emil
dna egnaro doolb dna
tra ti llac

sdrawkcab etirw lliw i
dna zzaj ot netsil dna
slian ym rednu tniap teg

dloh lliw gniliec ym
esuaceb stnirptoof ym
ytivarg ni eveileb ton lliw i

ereht erehwyreve dna
.srewolf eb lliw
'artist' em llac lliw yeht ,sey

on being an artist

2009-05-21T10:55:00.000-07:00

I have fallen in love with good writing
and with being an artist

and have forgotten to stay in love with
the things that inspire good writing
and art

so, like this one, my poems are short and sparse

what i'm excited about

2009-05-14T13:33:00.000-07:00

1. I get to see this lady: in just over 3 weeks! In fact, I'm even luckier than that. I get to be Rachel's date to Patty's wedding. Also, Rachel is officiating the wedding. Oh, and it's in San Francisco. AWESOME.

2. I get to see this lady: in just over 5 weeks! I'm staying with Amy during Rocky Mountain Annual Conference in Grand Junction, CO. This is also exciting because I get to speak at the lay session, I get to participate in a workshop on Global Praise Music in the UMC, and I get to see these ladies, too:

3. If I'm REALLY lucky, I get to see both this lady: and this fella: here in Salt Lake while we see these ladies:
(source: www.indigog irls.com)
on July 7!

WOO HOO!

(PS - Uruguay released its ban on LGBTQ people serving in the armed forces. Seriously? Uruguay and not us?)

Offertory on May 3

2009-05-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

Loved this:

"Long-Haired Radical Socialist Jew"

Well Jesus was a homeless lad,
with an unwed mother and an absent dad,
and I really don’t think he would have gotten that far,
if Newt, Pat, and Jesse had followed that star.

So let’s all sing out praises to
that long-haired radical socialist Jew.

When Jesus taught the people, he
would never charge a tuition fee.
He just took some fishes and some bread
and made up free school lunches instead.

So let’s all sing out praises to
that long-haired radical socialist Jew.

He healed the blind and made them see;
he brought the lame folks to their feet.
Rich and poor, anytime, anywhere,
just pioneering that free healthcare!

So let’s all sing out praises to
that long-haired radical socialist Jew

Jesus hung with a low-life crowd
but those working stiffs sure did him proud
some were murderers, thieves, and whores
but at least they didn’t do it as legislators

So let’s all sing out praises to
that long-haired radical socialist Jew.

Jesus lived in troubled times—
the religious right was on the rise.
Oh what could have saved him from his terrible fate?
Separation of church and state.

So let’s all sing out praises to
that long-haired radical socialist Jew.

Sometimes I fall into deep despair
when I hear those hypocrites on the air.
But every Sunday gives me hope
when pastor, deacon, priest, and pope
are all singing out their praises to
some long-haired radical socialist Jew.

They’re singing out their praises to…oooo…oooo…
some long-haired radical socialist Jew.

What do these 5 countries have in common?

2009-05-08T10:55:00.000-07:00

China
the Democratic Republic of the Congo
Iran
Pakistan
The United States

Answer: in these countries, it's legal to execute minors.

Some list to be a part of.

(see Amnesty International for more information)

God do I wish Glenn Beck would ACTUALLY say this

2009-05-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

“What happens if there’s a rash of deaths in Mexico… and if you’re a family in Mexico and people are dying and Americans are not, why wouldn’t you ~~flood this border~~ blame the USA’s unjust trade and economic policies that have crippled Mexico’s ability to respond to a health crisis?” — Glenn Beck

Read this blog post NOW. effing hilarious.

Thanks to Liz for the redirect :)

I ♥ Faces week 13: Friends

2009-04-07T08:09:00.000-07:00

(I know I said I would start posting all my photography on the other site, but these are going to have to be an exception: I can't get wordpress to recognize the HTML of the I ♥ Faces button.)

This week's theme is "My Best Friend and I".

My kids shot comes from a series of pictures I took at my last church.

I love Kalia's easy smile... and Kai's goofy-ness :)

It was more difficult for me to pick an adult entry. I finally settled on this image from a staff retreat to the beach last year:

There was a closer-cropped one of them, but this seemed to capture Marvlyn and Leigh Ann's personalities much better.

Be sure to check out www.iheartfaces.com for all the other entries!

California dreaming

2009-04-05T15:44:00.000-07:00

I napped
today - a fitful sleep
and thought about
you and your uncanny ability
to sleep through the light

I woke up
groggy and missing you
jarred awake by
credits - the movie I'd needed
to lull me in the first place

and you can just slip
in and out
of dreams - stay awake all night
and you don't need patterns

and I
I need habit
structure and something solid something
dependable rhythmic something
I must've dreamed you could give

you used to wake me when you came to bed
I'd pretend I didn't notice
but you woke me then and when
your feet and hands twitched in the night

the other
night I thought you were awake so I
whispered from across the room
you didn't hear and then I
noticed the distinct heavy breathing

of your sleep.

A February feeling, even now in April

2009-04-05T15:40:00.000-07:00

I threw your keys in the water, I looked back
They'd frozen halfway down in the ice.
They froze up so quickly, the keys and their owners
Even after the anger, it all turned silent and
Then everyday turned solitary
So we came to February

First we forgot where we'd planted those bulbs last year,
Then we forgot that we'd planted at all
Then we forgot what plants are altogether,
and I blamed you for my freezing and forgetting and
The nights were long and cold and scary,
Can we live through February?

You know I think Christmas was a long red glare
Shot up like a warning - we gave presents without cards
And then the snow
And then the snow came, we were always out shoveling
And we'd drop to sleep exhausted
Then we'd wake up, and it's snowing

And February was so long that it lasted into March
And found us walking a path alone together.
You stopped and pointed and you said, "That's a crocus,"
And I said, "What's a crocus?" and you said, "It's a flower,"
I tried to remember, but I said, "What's a flower?"
You said, "I still love you"

The leaves were turning as we drove to the hardware store
My new lover made me keys to the house
And when we got home, well we just started chopping wood,
Because you never know how next year will be
And we'll gather all our arms can carry
I have lost to February.

"I ♥ Faces!" Contest Entry - Week 11 (kids!)

2009-03-24T09:47:00.000-07:00

I decided to do a kids entry for I ♥ Faces, too. The challenge this week was to enter a photo without a flash - which is perfect, since I hardly ever use flash to begin with. This photo is of my former co-worker Wendy's ADORABLE baby boy Oscar. We snapped the session in about 20 minutes in the lobby of the Methodist building in DC, just a few days before I moved to Salt Lake City. I added a bunch of grain to the photo and cropped it down - but I just LOVE Oscar's expression here, and the little tear in his eye! Enjoy! And be sure to check out www.iheartfaces.com for the rest of this week's entries.

"I ♥ Faces!" Contest Entry - Week 11

2009-03-23T12:38:00.000-07:00

This is my first contest for I ♥ Faces! Be sure to check out www.iheartfaces.com to see the rest of the entries. What a cool community.

I went square dancing on Friday night! Sarah drove me and I met a bunch of people from the violin-making school. I took this photo of Jen by firelight (without flash), and it's one of my favorites from the night. More to come soon!

Notes on SLC, part II

2009-03-12T11:22:00.000-07:00

Today's installment, in honor of the general session of the legislature being finished, is a tribute to a series of "Only in Utah" laws.

1. Economic Justice.

There are NO usury laws on the books in Utah. None. Which means that it's not uncommon for payday loan or cash advance companies (of which there are more per capita than just about anywhere else in the US) to charge 400, 500, even 1,200% APR interest on one-week loans that can roll over for up to 3 months. I sat in on a committee hearing where one of our allies was trying to pass legislation that would limit APR to 100% - still an enormous profit. Even with our testimony from an expert economist and from a payday loan victim who lost everything (collectors came to her door and literally carted away her things), the bill was voted down and was dead in committee. Here's our payday loan victim telling her story to a reporter from the local Public Radio station.

What's the best way to raise revenue? Taxes, right? Well in Utah, Republican lawmakers wanted to double the sales tax on food, a measure that would disproportionately impact people living on the economic margins (me included!). The religious community banded together in a serious way on this - and we won!
The photo on the left is Rev. Steve Klemz from the Lutheran church delivering our letter of support to Lisa Roschelli (center) from Governor Huntsman's office. The Governor urged Congress not to raise the tax.
The photo on the right is Rev. Erin Gilmore of Holladay UCC (where I've been attending) and Linda Hilton, Advocate for Crossroads Urban Center, with whom I worked during my week there.

The final victory was 11th hour - literally! According to the State Constitution, the legislature has to be finished by midnight, this year on this past Thursday. At 11:51, a substitute bill was signed which allowed the Committee on Consumer Services to remain a policy-making committee rather than relegate it to an advisory committee, which the original bill suggested. The committee, commonly referred to as the "utilities watchdog" is made up of community members who keep an eye on utility companies who are looking to increase rates.

2. Alcohol and the LDS.

Here's what's been illegal in Utah: homebrew. It is illegal in Utah to make your own beer in your home. But not anymore! Good news for local company "The Beer Nut," which sells beer and wine-making kits :)

In bars here they have what's commonly referred to as the "Zion Curtain". It's a wall, made out of wood, plastic, metal, sometimes even clear glass, that's about 17'' high and stands between the bartender and the customer, behind which bartenders are required to mix drinks. Many places, bartenders aren't allowed to hand you your drink over the wall - they have to walk around the bar to hand it to you!

3. Paved History

One piece of legislation that went poorly regards a Native American archaeological site - a whole village discovered found underground just outside Salt Lake City. The Utah Transit Authority wants to dig it up to build a new Trax (metro... sort of) station. And... the Congress just gave them permission. This, in the State House where lies a display of Native American and other artifacts with a quote that reads "In Utah, everyone is from someplace else." Only in Utah.

PS - one more thing I'm not used to? Avalanche forecasting!

Welcome to Planet Utah.

2009-03-10T21:16:00.000-07:00

Utah is this strange place of paradoxes. In Salt Lake, city employees have partner benefits. Not just same-sex partner benefits, non-married heterosexual partner benefits. And if your mom is your dependent, you can name her as your partner. In the same city, state representative (and chair of the Utah House Rules Committee) Chris Buttars says the following: "I believe you (the LGBTQ community) will destroy the foundation of American society because I believe the cornerstone of it is a man and a woman and a family. It is, in my mind, the beginning of the end. Oh it's worse than that. Sure, Sodom and Gomorrah was localized, this is world-wide. You can't tell me that something was going on in Sodom and Gomorrah is not going on wholesale right now and to a large degree among the gay community... The underbelly is they do not want equality, they want superiority. I believe that, internally, they are the greatest threat to America going down that I know of."

Utah was settled largely by the Mormon migration. Now native peoples once healthy and peaceful on this land are now confined to tiny reservations with little access to health care facilities. And the caption in the State Capitol reads, "In Utah, everyone is from someplace else."

Here snow falls and melts - saturates and dries - the sun warms and the night freezes - all in 12 hours.

Here the valley is flat, flat, flat at the foot of Mt. Olympus.

Here in the land of big sky, Salt Lake has some of the worst air pollution in the nation. Sometimes you can't even see the mountains.

And here, here... I have found a community of advocates, a local church committee on church and society, a Muslim school, Turkish women hosting multicultural events encouraging theological and intellectual dialogue.

'Welcome,' Linda said to me as we left the Capitol, 'to Planet Utah.'

missing most

2009-03-10T20:54:00.000-07:00

your sleepy eyes
and saturday brunch
catastrophes and
finally gaining traction
boats and goats,
bad seafood
that awful sunburn
and statues of our favorite women

no no

it's the never-was
stevie nicks and lindsey buckingham
on halloween of the year we didn't keep
meals we didn't learn to cook together
plans we hadn't made
and the chance we didn't have
your hands and tears i didn't dry
sentences and words unfinish
missing most of us.

just to be clear...

2009-03-02T21:01:00.000-08:00

I don't believe it's possible to put ourselves outside of the bounds of God's Grace and Love. Sin or not.

transfigured.

2009-03-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

disclaimer: I loved reconciling Sunday. I loved it so much I didn't even realize I was missing one of my favorite Sundays in the liturgical year: Transfiguration Sunday. I think the story is so beautiful, and so mysterious - and so human.

I resonate with the disciples here especially. I think when you hang out with someone like this Jesus character, you come to just expect amazing things to happen. And what with there always being some trick, some moral hiding you didn't see coming, I imagine that I would always have been trying to stay one step ahead, figuring where this lesson was going. I imagine I would have been a fuss-er, like Peter. He so wants to get it right, you know? The voice (can you imagine?) the PRESENCE of God is all about them, and Peter wants to build a worship space, right there. I have trouble imagining what this moment would be like - so I like to have artists help me out. One of my favorite depictions is a musical setting by Sufjan Stevens. Listen to it here.

I'd like to think I'd have enough sense to just take in a moment like that, but I have a feeling I'd be reaching for my camera - always trying to capture, to remember, to keep, to stay the same. And at the heart of it, isn't this story about change? Change for the disciples, change for the ministry, fallout from a mountaintop experience.

One of my favorite spots in the world is at a camp in the mountains of Western North Carolina. The path is steep, icy in the winter and muddy after a rain. And the sun sets fast, so you'd be wise to bring yourself a flashlight. There are cracks in the rock you'll have to leap over to get there, but when you do, it's breathtaking. Castle Rock, hidden gem of the Greenville highway, sees the steady sun set over Carolina farmland day in, day out, year after year, farther back than anyone can remember. The river shines like liquid gold, painted to match the flame-colored hills in fall. I feel like I'm being let in on some cosmic secret - the mountains put on this show just for me. And I watch as the last sliver of orange light flashes, and then disappears behind the next ridge over. Coming down from the mountain, we can see only in part, shining our flashlights in as many places as possible so we don't slip and fall down the steep path. And the rest of the night is spent, largely, recovering from the experience.

Salt Lake City is located smack in the middle of a valley. "Guarded well by mountains," it's magnificent in its own way. But instead of the unfettered vista of Castle Rock, I'm getting used to a very framed view. There are definitions, limits, to my reality. And a place I expected to be cold and frigid turns out to be warm, even inviting. And the frost and snow I'd so long awaited comes too-little-too-late to my Eastern home. And I sing...

Now we can say that nothing's lost and only change brings round the prophecy
Where now it's melting, the solid frost was once a veil on greener landscapes we would see
Beneath my surface the water's heating
And steam comes up and out the tears you see me shine
For every strange and bitter moment there was never a better time

Beneath my surface a song is rising
It may be simple while it hides its true intent
We may be looking for our deliverance but it has already been sent
It's in the night fall when the light falls
And what you've seen isn't there anymore
It's in our blind trust that love will find us
Just like it has before

notes on SLC, part 1

2009-02-28T19:48:00.000-08:00

...hopefully of many.

1. Salt Lake City is only 30% Mormon, a much lower percentage than the rest of Utah. I only live 3 blocks from Temple Square, but I don't have any sense of being a 'religious minority' at all. We'll see, I suppose, if that changes.

2. SLC is, of course, the state capitol of Utah. This in itself is relatively uninteresting, but the civic engagement here is pretty unique. The League of Women Voters is pretty freaking amazing. They take a good chunk of the local news time on the NPR station every morning to report in depth on what legislation is on the floor each day, and how votes turned out the previous day. They have an award-winning legislative website, and lots of people around seem to have a good sense of what's going on day-to-day on Utah's Capitol Hill. The LDS lobby is, of course, immense (we all saw that during the prop 8 battle), but there's a Coalition of Religious Communities (CORC) that advocates for progressive policies, and does a pretty great job of it. I'm looking forward to working with them on a couple of direct actions next week.

3. The mountains here are bigger than I could have imagined. They still surprise me every time I get a peek at them through the buildings or as I step outside. Nothing about living in Appalachia could have prepared me for the large-ness of the West.

4. Most of the energy in Utah comes from coal-fired power plants. But the concerns with the energy provider in town (Energy Solutions) don't have as much to do with that as they do with the desire to house nuclear waste in the nearby mountains. And we're not talking about nuclear waste from neighboring states, or even the US. I mean nuclear waste from Italy. The coal-fired power plants don't threaten the mountains here with mountaintop removal like they do in Appalachia. I'm no geologist, but I'd guess that's because the mountains here aren't old enough to be chock-full of coal like the ones out East. No, what threatens the mountains here are the threat of storing nuclear waste in them, and the open pit copper mine that has overtaken much of the East slope of the Ochres that faces the city. The land is largely privately-owned... it seems odd to me that someone can own a mountain. Though I suppose it's no more odd than "owning" any other piece of land.

5. There are TONS of independent coffee shops in Salt Lake. I'm pretty stoked about that. One of them is two doors down from where I live, and I'm enjoying the free internet access. There's also a pretty large vegetarian community, eco-friendly community, and general progressive community. I'm hoping to get plugged into some of that.

6. There's a pretty large immigrant community here as well. And immigration isn't particularly latino, as you might expect in the west. There are Tongans, Samoans, and Pakistanis who all have significant numbers here. I have asked several people why this is - and have come up with two main guesses: 1) SLC is probably a pretty good relocation site for refugees and asylees, and 2) A lot of immigration here has to do with returning LDS missionaries. Go figure. There are lots of immigrants at the local UMC near me, so I am hoping to learn some of their stories (I've already been offered a lesson in curry-making!!).

7. All the bars here are private clubs to which you have to buy a membership and register before you can drink. You know, it really works as a disincentive to drink... I have no desire to buy a membership to a bunch of different bars. But alcohol is more readily available than I thought - There is a wine shop not too far from my house, and the coffee shop has buck-fifty beer night on Thursdays.

That's all for tonight. Tomorrow I'm going to Park City with Julie (the woman I stayed with when I first got here) and her 11-year old daughter Sammy. Then next week I get to work with Crossroads Urban Center while Brian is in Louisiana.

Lenten Discipline

2009-02-28T19:15:00.000-08:00

I learned long ago that giving up chocolate for Lent was not going to be a thing that suited me. I would spend my days longing for the stuff, eventually give in, then spend the next several weeks feeling guilty about not being able to keep my commitment - as though it was God's primary concern that I could abstain from sweets for a mere month-and-some. Frankly, I probably disappointed God more with my childish responses to having to refuse a piece of cake than with my eventual cave to a Snicker's bar.

So instead of replacing one bad habit with another, my mother and I decided a few years ago to pick up a discipline together. We were working together at the time, and we worked with some pretty difficult people. Some were going through difficult transitions in their lives and took their anger out on the rest of us, one felt threatened about her job, one just seemed to prefer to be angry. And a few of us had gotten in the bad habit of gossiping and complaining about work. That year, my mom and I decided to be intentional about speaking kindly about our co-workers. ALL of our co-workers. It was difficult at first. At first I just neglected to talk about work at all. But after awhile, I made myself learn more about my co-workers than the boxes I had placed them in. I learned what they liked to do in their free time, what they were passionate about, how they had been hurt or made glad by partners and friends. And after Lent was through... Mom and I still became frustrated with some of them. But instead of dwelling on those moments, we were able to move past them to common ground. We became happier, built relationships with our co-workers, and grew closer to one another as we shared the experience of this discipline with each other.

I've kept up this practice since then, choosing usually two disciplines to keep: one individual and one community-oriented. This year's discipline will (hopefully) be both. I've committed to writing and reflecting on a regular basis. I want to document my time in Salt Lake City, as well as prepare myself for what's ahead. I want to share my experience here with folks who have supported my getting here. And I want to do that in a way that's honest. I also want to get over the idea that everything I write has to be perfect, and move towards a place where I can process by writing. So I can't promise perfection, or even good writing. But I hope to be able to commit to regularity. And maybe an interesting thought now and again.

inauguration!!!!!

2009-01-23T15:01:00.000-08:00

Family Photos at the Arboretum

2008-11-03T13:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Janna, Dana, Genevieve and I went out to the arboretum to shoot some family portraits! I shot Genevieve's baptism long long ago (my first event by myself!), and was so glad to be able to spend some quality time with these three. So many pictures to share... they are just too cute to hold back!

Janna and Dana said they wanted lots of photos that captured Genevieve's personality. Let's see how we did!

Curious...

Joyful... and clearly loves her daddy!

An explorer!

loved VERY much by her family.

hungry... and a multitasker!

Caring. How sweet is this?

Daring!

...and always on the go!

Genevieve, Dana, and Janna, thank you for letting me be a part of keeping your memories!!

US-2 Midterms - late post

2008-10-28T13:50:00.000-07:00

2 weeks ago I downloaded these photos off Katy's CF card so I could take it empty to Amanda's wedding (thanks, Katy!). I had forgotten how much fun I'd had photographing my US-2 class on the lawn at Stony Point! What a great group of folks. At this particular point, Lindsey Hall was trying to teach us to whistle with grass between our fingers. Enjoy!

Amanda is married!

2008-10-24T12:48:00.000-07:00

See photos from Amanda and Matt's wedding here!

http://www.laraswansonphoto.com/clients/Ivey/

photos from church

2008-10-16T09:20:00.000-07:00

So I've been commissioned to take the photos for the bulletin board at church, so I've had my camera around a lot lately. Here are some recent shots - Santos and Benji, then Arden.

Krystal and Chris - Engagement Session on the Mall

2008-10-15T08:59:00.000-07:00

Krystal is a field organizer for Bread for the World, so I know her from work with the UM Seminar Program. I had only met her fiancee Chris once, so I was excited to see them both in a more laid back setting! I'll be shooting their wedding next May, and it was really great to get comfortable with them. Here are some of my favorites from this weekend:

Chris and Krystal are just gorgeous.

and check out this ring!

I learned that Cris is quite the acrobat. I love how Krystal is laughing at him in the background!

Of course, we had to wander down to the tidal basin for that late-afternoon sun. Check out the flare! I told Chris he has to practice this - we're DEFINITELY rocking this out at their wedding.

A few more from the mall - it's so clear how much they love each other.

And one last sunset shot to close it out. Congratulations, Krystal and Chris! Can't wait to shoot your wedding next year!

Tagalog Christian song used in GBCS worship today

2008-07-23T12:36:00.000-07:00

Walang sinuman ang nabubuhay para sa sarili lamang.
Walang sinuman ang mamamatay para sa sarili lamang.
Tayong lahat ay may pananagutan sa isa't isa.
Tayong lahat ay tinipon ng Diyos ng pag-ibig niya.

Nobody is living by himself alone.
Nobody will die only for himself.
All of us are accountable for each other's welfare.
Because all of us are gathered by God's love.

2008-07-21T12:20:00.000-07:00

I'm glad to see that Americans keep coming back to the recognition that we're not done with racism here:
http://online.wsj.com/article_email/SB121642866373567057-lMyQjAxMDI4MTI2MDQyMjA4Wj.html

If God invited you to a party

2008-06-30T05:24:00.000-07:00

If God
invited you to a party and
said,"Everyone in the ballroom tonight will
be my special
guest."
How would you then treat them when you arrived?
Indeed, indeed!

Source: Love Poems From God, Hafiz, translated by Daniel Ladinsky

testing, testing

2008-06-06T08:41:00.000-07:00

I'm going to start blogging pictures on here, so these are test images. This is one of my favorites that Lara took of my big haircut! Also pictured, Bill Brown - amazing man that he is - doing what he does best. You think that move is crazy, you should have seen what he did to Jessie's hair when he textured and layered it.

One hour, lots of shampoo, and 12 cut inches later, it looked FABULOUS. Check out Bill telling me how hot I look. I can't wait to go back in a few weeks!

Quote of the Day

2008-06-06T06:53:00.000-07:00

How do you foresee federal climate legislation affecting the growth of green jobs?

Smart, sane climate policy would be an economic stimulus package on Wheaties and steroids. If we do this the right way, we're going to create literally millions of green-collar jobs. Smart, sane climate policy is key to creating a green economy that includes everyone.

-Van Jones, Green for All

See the whole interview at http://gristmill.grist.org/story/2008/6/4/171241/3321

I did it!

2008-03-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

I posted again... finally!

I wrote this poem coming into work this morning, then later this afternoon when I couldn't work any more. Not being particularly computer literate myself, I couldn't find a way to get the formatting to stick - but it looks a lot cooler in the word document. Let me know if you want to see it - I'll email. It feels good to be writing again. I've forgotten how much I love words.

And here I was thinking it was hard to keep up a blog! I've got to remember how quick it can be.

I've been doing lots of photography with (and some without) Lara, so photos to come soon :)

Also, coming soon... THE BIG CUT! 12 inches gone... and no remorse! Thank you, Bill :)

sometimes...

2008-03-17T14:12:00.000-07:00

i dream that everyone is asleep

they stare at me
through their eyelids
behind their dark sunglasses

their coughs are snores
their sneezes are gasps
when they are startled by their dreams
they talk in their sleep

they are sleep-walkers
sleeping walkers

they dream of flying
and of broken
and unbroken hearts
and of processed cheese product

they dream of love
requited
lost.

they dream of forests and board rooms
animals and robots
friends and enemies
of what could be
of what is
what never was.

this one runs
across the street, turns
to watch
her mind's manufactured monster disappear
behind a double-decker bus

sleep late the mattress ad urges her.

their wishes
dreams
regrets
fears
they dream into a not-quite-reality
that takes its shape around them.

and i am awake
i am watching them
i am eating their dreams for my breakfast

some do not dream.

and i go away hungry

Eat Your Grace!

2008-02-04T13:23:00.000-08:00

I can't recall now who said it; it started out as a joke. My Young Adult Missionary class had just gotten out of a communion service during our training last summer. We were eating the leftover bread, and someone had joked about how tasty the grace of God was – warm and chewy, perfectly accompanied by a few drops of grape juice. And from the crowd of us, somewhere, someone said, "What if the Grace we received was directly proportional to the amount of communion bread we ate?" While it was laughed off at first, the theme came up again, and I couldn't shake myself of it. From that time to this, I've considered the thought. What implications might it have if bread were my only source of Grace?
Well, practically, once people started making the connection, we’d probably see attendance rise at churches (particularly on the first Sunday of the month). And the communion line itself wouldn’t be so solemn – we’d probably be jumping for joy. People would come around two or three times just to get a little more of that Grace. I daresay women might have a more positive body image, and being thin would not be quite as popular as it is today. And our mission focus might change, too. Since we acknowledge that it is only by God’s Grace that we are cleansed of our sin, only by Grace that we turn to God at all, I imagine that when missionaries packed their suitcases, they’d be 90% yeast and flour, 10% other. And I guess we might be a little freer about who we allow to perform the sacraments, wouldn’t we?
Luckily for us, our Grace does not come only from bread. It is not in meal and millet that God blesses us. The meal we share is simply a memory. Or perhaps more appropriately (since I think very few of us were actually around to witness that first-last-supper), the meal is an example. God says to us, “Come to this table. Even in something as normal as sharing bread and wine I am with you. I am blessing you always.”
In today’s lectionary, Jesus tells us that he is leaving us a model. Actually, we hear about three. The first, as mentioned earlier, comes to us in the first letter to the Corinthians. Here Jesus gives us an example of how we might remember him, and remember our call (“Remember, friends, whenever you take a meal together. Remember the love you’ve experienced, and remember the good news I told you to spread.”).
The next model comes at the beginning of the gospel text, in John chapter 13. Jesus and his friends have gathered for a meal just before Passover. And during supper, Jesus rises from the table. He takes off his outer robe (his jacket, if you will), he pulls out a towel and a basin of water, and he begins to wash his friends’ feet.
Okay.
Now, I’m sure the disciples are used to Jesus doing some pretty unusual things. They’ve seen him perform miracles, dine with the unclean, defy rules and traditions, a few weeks ago we even heard how Peter saw Jesus glowing on the mountain. Now, as then, Peter (along with the rest of the twelve, I’d be willing to guess) doesn’t quite know how to handle the situation. And as usual, instead of keeping his mouth shut and waiting for things to be explained, Peter gets a little ahead of him. On the mountain, Peter wanted to build some houses for Moses and Elijah, to stay on the mountaintop and keep experiencing what he rightly recognizes as “good.” Here too, he rightly recognizes that Jesus is trying to tell them something about serving one another. But instead of letting Jesus explain what he means, Peter jumps ahead: “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” and after a little back and forth, Jesus does finally manage the task. He asks them, “Do you know what I have done to you?... If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you should do as I have done to you.” Jesus is telling his disciples that they, too, can be instruments of God’s Grace. The work of God was not meant for just one person, but for all of God’s children.
About this, Jesus could not be more clear. Here is our final model: “Little children,” Jesus says, “Where I am going you cannot come. I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

Stop for a minute and imagine that you’ve just heard these things from your friend, Jesus. You think back on your journey: where were you a year ago? Two years ago? What has happened in your family? How has your path changed? How has this son of a carpenter, son of God, influenced you? And more importantly, what must you now do with your life?
Now imagine that you wake up on the following Saturday morning. The hot, mid morning sun is streaming through your window. The air is dusty. You remember the events of the last few days. Your friend, teacher, Lord, is dead. You walk across town, through a market bustling with color and energy. You reach the edge of town and gaze out on God’s creation. How does it feel? You’ve been told to spread the Good News of God… but how? You return to your room and break bread, remembering Jesus’ words: “This is my body that is for you.”
Could you have eaten it?

We must. EVERY DAY we must remember the example of love Christ set for us. We must remember and give thanks for the Grace amply given, in so many ways. And above all, we must share our bread, our grace, with one another. For his last meal, Jesus gathered his friends all together. Our table is not a place for solitude.
There are times when I feel that receiving Grace would be just as painful as bearing my burdens on my own. It is at just these times when I need it most. So I pick up my loaf of bread, give thanks to God, I break it, and I share it with my friends. And I remember. To this I was called.

Unexpect the Expected.

2007-11-13T07:42:00.000-08:00

Stepping on the plane from Washington, DC to Fort Worth, Texas, I’m not sure what I was expecting. Perhaps I was expecting a tall man in jeans adorned with a larger-than-life brassy belt buckle in the shape of Texas, a wide-brimmed cowboy hat atop his head. Perhaps I imagined a brown leather jacket, and yes, maybe there was some fringe involved. He’d speak to me in a drawl, greet me with a “Howdy, partner.” and ask me if I’d ever ridden a horse. “Of course,” I’d reply, trying to be cool, though I’d know that the pony at the county fair was not what he’d envisioned. After all, I had never been to Fort Worth, but I’d seen Texans on TV. I’d seen them in newspapers. I’d even seen them in our own White House. When I attended camp as a little girl, we used to sing a song called “Long, Tall, Texan” in which we’d name the pieces of the Texan’s attire: big white hat, shiny spurs, yellow star, shiny gun… all culminating in the final question (inevitably in the worst southern accent we could muster) “is you the law?” Granted, somewhere in my mind I knew that an honest-to-God cowboy was not going to carry me off on a horse from the DFW airport – for one thing, where would he put my suitcase? Nevertheless, this is the picture I’ve painted of Texas, not to mention of Texans.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, and we ask that you do remain seated for the duration of the flight. Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” I shifted nervously in my seat. I prepared myself for what was ahead. Texas.

But nothing in this world could have prepared me for Edie Sunday.

It was the sign with my name I saw first – then the woman. She stood at a mere 4’ 8”, but if her height didn’t mirror the greatness of her character, her apparel certainly did. She wore an African printed tunic which she would later tell me had been a gift on one of her many travels. She wore glasses which covered nearly half her face, framed by short, thin, whitish hair. And… her hat. She wore a rainbow colored beanie with a propeller on top, and every inch of it was covered in pins. There were pins from every state welcome center she’d ever visited. Pins from races and walks, benefits and non-profits. There were pins from churches and from city councils. The history of a whole journey told by the little pieces of metal she’d affixed to her hat. Later some of us would sit and brag about which of us got to be picked up from the airport by Edie – but when I stepped off that plane, the only thing I could think was, Wow. I didn’t expect this.

This woman quickly showed me I had nothing to fear. I had pointed to her sign, saying “that’s me”, and no sooner had I gotten the words out of my mouth than she had her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly: No boundaries, simply love for me, someone she’d never met. She hadn’t yet introduced herself when she handed me a Ziploc bag. “This is for you,” she said matter-of-factly. “We’re parked way over yonder, I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit of a walk.” “That’s alright,” I’d replied, “I’ve been sitting all day.” I’d arrived with a group of Army Drill Team members, and as if she could read my mind (which was whispering this can’t get any weirder), she began to hug each of them, thanking them for their service, telling them of her own son, a soldier in Iraq.

When we got to the car, I reviewed the contents of my gift. A collection of 19 postcards, most vintage, some with writing on the back. Two of Edie’s famous pins, both from North Texas Western Days, from her native Saginaw. A business card offering Edie’s services in the way of Original Poetry, Plays, Special Liturgy, Retreats, Programs, and Bible Studies, and noting her experience as a Certified Lay Speaker of the UMC for 48 years. And a macramé rainbow cross, with a card reading: “Never forget that You are one of God’s rainbow people, Called to step outside your high church steeple, To show that you have heard God’s holy call By loving, serving, and witnessing God’s Grace to all. Live Forgiven! Edith Tallent Sunday”

I took a deep breath. This, I’d thought to myself, is Texas.

The Bible, Old Testament and New, is full of reversals, from creation through resurrection and beyond. Surely, we think, God will strike down the wicked where they stand. Yet time and time again we find God’s mercy to be far beyond that which we humans could imagine. God grows frustrated with God’s people. Over and over we fall away from the will of God, and God redeems us. God cries out, “How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel?” Surely, we think, God will choose the most powerful, the best-looking, the great speakers, to carry God’s message. Yet God’s light-bearers are often the young, the weak, those marginalized by society, those who have no power. And from time to time, though I know the story well, when I read the Gospel of Luke and hear Jesus praying to let the cup pass from him, I expect God to pluck him off the Mount of Olives and save him from earthly death. But higher are God’s thoughts than mine, higher are God’s ways than mine. And the incredible power of the resurrection is so infinitely better than I ever dream or expect.

God even reverses the way we think about things. This is especially evident in this past week’s lectionary text. In Luke 20:27-38 we hear the story of a group of Sadducees who come to Jesus with a question. It’s a very specific question, pertaining to the law and the kingdom to come. As I heard it this weekend, it sounds like “A train leaves Denver traveling at…” The question is about seven brothers who marry, in sequence, one woman, all 8 of them dying without her bearing any children. Which one, they want to know, will be her husband at the resurrection? (Here, I picture Jesus gently shaking his head. When will they learn?) “You’re looking at it from the wrong angle,” I imagine Jesus saying. “It’s not about marriage, it’s about devotion to God. See, at the resurrection, things that are important here just won’t be so important anymore. The law helps us get closer to God while we’re here, in this life. But one day, we’ll be in communion with God, and none of that stuff will matter anymore.” But the Sadducees are so focused on the “perfection” of the Kingdom (as they see it) that they are blind to the picture Jesus is painting: “they can no longer die; for they are like the angels. They are God’s children, since they are children of the resurrection.” (Luke 20:36)
As the conference went on, I saw glimpses of the Kingdom of God: People being in authentic community with one another, loving one another, sharing in one another’s struggles. But nothing continued to surprise me quite so much as Edie Sunday. Every time I saw her, she had something else about which to be joyful. She read some of her poetry at the open mic night, she made countless trips to the airport to pick up our worship leaders and central conference participants, and she told me stories of her excitement about interactions with people different from herself. For Edie, every moment is an opportunity to experience God’s Grace in a way we haven’t before. How could I have possibly imagined such an amazing person?

This got me thinking: how many times have I let my stubborn expectations about the way something will or should be get in the way of my experience of God’s Grace? There’s no way I can possibly be awake to the wonder of God’s goodness, so often seen in the eyes of my neighbors, if I’m too hung up on my own uneasiness about a situation? How can I see God’s picture of God’s kingdom when I’m so focused on the way I’ve painted?

This is not to say that we should not expect God’s grace. On the contrary, as the author of Hebrews tells us, we must hope in things not seen. However, we must not allow ourselves to become so attached to the means by which we believe God’s grace should be made known. We must not become so arrogant as to believe that God may only speak to whom and in the ways we each see fit. And similarly, we must not doubt that God may speak through us, even when we don’t expect God to do so.

In the week to come, I encourage you to think about the ways in which your expectations have limited your experience of the divine. How can you open yourself to hearing and seeing God in a different way this week? How can you work to “get out of the way” of what God is showing you?

Never forget that You are one of God’s rainbow people,
Called to step outside your high church steeple,
To show that you have heard God’s holy call
By loving, serving, and witnessing God’s Grace to all.
Live Forgiven!
- Edith Tallent Sunday