Asgard

Summer at the Movies

Screenshot 2018-08-20 14.07.34My kids start school this week.  It’s been a great summer.  They’re finally old enough to enjoy a good book for a few hours or to get themselves a bowl of cereal (Ask any mom…this is LIFE CHANGING!).  Like so many others, summer movies were also on our activity list during the long break.  My kids are into the Marvel movies, so we had to see ALL of them… Thor: Ragnarok, Black Panther, Avengers: Infinity War, and Ant-Man and the Wasp.  Thor: Ragnarok actually came out last year, but they’ve watched it OnDemand at home over and over again….enough times, that even I have started learning some of the lines.  There’s a scene in Thor:Ragnarok where Odin says to Thor:

Asgard is not a place.  It’s a people. 

The Wilderness

When I wasn’t shuttling my kids to a camp or movie, one of my favorite pastimes this summer was listening to podcasts and reading.  Books always have been and are my safe space – even when they are pushing me into new ways of thinking or understanding.  One of the first books I cracked open this summer was Brene Brown’s latest, Braving the Wilderness.  And, ‘wilderness’ is certainly an apt term to describe the state of my spiritual life.

Willow Creek.

The Catholic Church.

The unholy matrimony of Trump + Evangelicals

Scandals coupled with the ongoing evangelical allegiance to The President plus the Screenshot 2018-08-20 14.37.52deafening silence of so many (notice, I said many – not all!) faith communities has rocked my confidence in the church….an institution that has been a lifelong pillar in my life.  This summer, I couldn’t go to church on Sundays (partly because of lingering PTSD after my church did a summer at the movies series last year, which included a whole sermon on Beauty and the Beast the same weekend as Charlottesville).   But, more than a particular series – it was a particular feeling that the excercise, even if it just going through the motions, had become too painful.

 

 

Filling that void and bringing much peace and insight have been a new genre of Christian authors that I’d never known till now, namely Barbara Brown Taylor and Richard Rohr – two figures from more liturgical traditions.  I won’t even try to summarize the countless ways in which they’ve expanded my understanding faith.  In her book, An Altar in the World, there’s a line in the chapter about the Practice of Encountering Others  where she says:

The church was not a place but a people.

Sound familiar?

For generations, God balked at the idea of a temple or a king.  And, yet today it seems we’ve forgotten why.  Instead, we build-up modern cathedrals and celebrity pastors.  All the while, we do give lip service to loving the poor and helping the oppressed, but we dare not utter a word against the systems and structures that perpetuate injustice.

Thankfully, while my faith in organized religion has been at rock-bottom, my confidence in the good work of community organizations partnering with school districts or local leaders is actually growing everyday.  That’s not to say I’m not daily dismayed by national or even state politicians or corporate leaders, but I am really happy to report that impactful work is happening at the local, grassroots level.  For me, in this season of spiritual wandering and wilderness, my work with Community Equity Collaborative has taken on new significance, as we are in both word and deed, helping the oppressed and feeding the poor.  It is faith in action.  It is Micah 6:8 lived.

Goodbye

Brene says this in Braving the Wilderness:

Belonging so fully to yourself that you’re willing to stand alone is a wilderness – an untamed, unpredictable place of solitude and searching.  It is a place as dangerous it is breathtaking, a place a sought as it is feared.  The wilderness can often feel unholy because we can’t control it, or what people think about our choice of whether to venture into that vastness or not.  But it turns out to be the place of true belonging, and it’s the bravest and most sacred space you will ever stand.

I haven’t written many blog posts lately.   There are no words yet for my wandering.  Between the magnitude of what I am sorting in my soul and the pure insanity of what’s happening in the world – I just cannot distill it all into a post.  But, there are others who can and do.  There are my new BFF’s – the great thinkers of the liturgical world, like Barbara Brown Taylor and Richard Rohr, that I’d highly recommend to anyone.  There are my longtime favorites, like Jen Hatmaker, Sarah Bessey and Rachel Held Evans.  And, there’s a fantastic and spirit-filled community of writers and leaders of color who are speaking so powerfully into this moment in history.  Check out Austin Channing Brown or Soong-Chan Rah or Michael Eric Dyson or Bryan Stevenson or Eugene Cho or Lisa Sharon Harper.

Go read these people.  Wrestle with your faith.  And then….

Meet me in the margins.  We are a people, much more than we are a place.  And, if there is any prevailing theme to the Bible, it is that God’s heart is with the hurting and oppressed.  The evidence of our faith, of who we are as God’s people is in the fruits, pure and simple.  It is bringing love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control to the world, especially those who need it most.  This is not only the message of the gospel but the place where God is showing up most visibly in my life.  And, so, I’m going to officially push the pause button on my blogging.

This might be the last post.  Ever.  Or not.

Who knows where the wilderness will lead you or the spirit will act?

I started this blog because I wanted to chronicle my journey to live out the Micah 6:8 command to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly.  I opted for a blog instead of a diary because I wanted the kind of accountability that comes from making a public promise or statement of intention.  No slight intended towards those who write or blog, speak or publish via podcast – but the world has enough people talking about these issues and not enough actually DOING something about it.  For the foreseeable future, I know God wants me to focus on:

a) being still, listening for His voice as I walk through the wilderness

b) walking through the doors God has opened for Community Equity Collaborative, where we work to dismantle unjust systems and promote greater opportunity and equity through community partnerships.

A Toast + A Prayer

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Wildfire Photos by Wired Magazine

Wine Country has been ravaged by a brutal fire season.  My family decided to drive a couple of hours north for a week in Napa this summer.  We love that region and wanted to support the areas that have been devastated – both by the physical destruction as well as the financial losses.  I brought along a big stack of books on racism, social justice, faith….the usual!  Sitting by the pool, it hit me: I have a social justice blog called, Over Coffee and Wine.  I mean, seriously!!!!  The irony of my *privilege pastimes* as an umbrella for *social justice conversations* hit me like a ton of bricks.  God opened my eyes to the gulf between IMG_3045where I am and where His heart is when I lay claim to His gospel or the Micah 6:8 words.  Not that God isn’t in wineries and cafes!  But, it’s time to roll up my sleeves and actually step into the margins….that’s where His people are and His heart’s always been.  Time to light these words on fire and live them out.

 

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let HIM shine…let HIM shine, let HIM shine.

P.S.

Here are my favorite books & Podcasts of the summer

Books

Inspired by Rachel Held Evans, Everybody Always by Bob Goff, Grateful by Diana Butler Bass, Braving the Wilderness by Brene Brown, Leaving Church and An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor, Finding God in the Margins by Carolyn Curtis James, I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown and The Very Worst Missionary by Jamie Wright.

Podcasts

Truths Table, For the Love, Freedom Road and Deconstructionists.

 

 

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

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Sandi Patty and Wayne Watson

Sandi Patty.  Larnelle Harris.  Gaither Vocal Band.  These were the household names for me growing up.  I was raised on a music diet that consisted primarily of Christian music with a bit of classical thrown in on the side.  Sandi Patty was my favorite.  I knew every word to every song.  To this day, I still believe she has the voice of an angel.  Duets, like those with Wayne Watson, sounded like music from heaven.  Truly.

Though it has been YEARS, I can still hear one of their most famous songs, Another Time Another Place, play in my head.  The main refrain begins, So, I’m waiting for another time and another placeWhere all my hopes and dreams will be captured.  These lyrics remind me of the verse in Revelation, where it says that He will wipe away every tear, that there will be no more sorrow, no more pain.  I love that verse because it speaks to the brokenness that we all carry plus God’s redemption promise.

At my church, we’re doing this series called, Upside Down, looking at the most famous sermon ever given – the Sermon on the Mount.  Embedded in that sermon is the Lord’s Prayer, where Jesus commands us to pray that Up There Come Down Here.  It turns out, the work of the cross continues, in and through broken people like you and me.  Till we get to that other time and place, there is work to do.

 

So what is that work?

In August, I wrote about what I’d learned in my year-long journey of trying to *actually* live out the Micah 6:8 verse.  Option B was more about the process than the outcomes.  So, here I want to expand on the WHAT….what do justice, mercy and love look like?  I am still learning, myself!  But, these are the doors God has opened.

Community Equity Collaborative

In May, a few of us met over a cup of coffee to talk about what we could do to promote social justice in our community.  At a Starbucks in Menlo Park, Community Equity Collaborative was born.

400dpiLogo (1)Who are we?

  • We launch, support and connect initiatives across the San Francisco Peninsula that promote educational equity, especially in the area of early learning.
  • While we believe that charity is a cheap substitute for justice, an opportunity to distribute 7,000 pairs of toddler shoes kinda fell into our lap, providing a great platform for connecting with the early childhood education community in our area.

What do we do?

  • Some examples of the work we’re doing now:
    • Assist faith-based organizations in assessing their site for preschool and connect these organizations with early learning operators.
    • Create career pathways into early learning, collaborating with Able Works and Canada College with integrated teacher/student mentoring and individualized coaching.
    • Support local school districts that have or are building early learning programs.

I intended all summer to write about Community Equity Collaborative.  I’m just now doing it because we have been busy, which is a good thing – God is actually using us!  Who knew!?!  And, it is confirming for me that the Micah 6:8 work precedes the writing, not vice versa.  It is as if God keep telling me, “just do the work, I’ll give you the story.”  And, stories He is providing!!!!

Domestic Worker Oral History Project

Very little research or reporting is done on domestic workers.  They are this essential ingredient, helping us take care of our little ones and keep our homes in order (especially in the high-paced, over-achieving region of Silicon Valley).  Yet, we know so little about their *actual* lives.  Simone Weil, says, “Attention is the purest and rarest form of generosity.”  We have decided it was time to shine a light on these women….to stop and just listen to their stories.

So, what exactly are we doing?

  • I, along with a partner from Community Equity Collaborative, decided to personally organize and fund the gathering of stories from Bay Area women.
  • We partnered with Able Works, as many of their clients are formerly or presently in the domestic worker field.

How are we doing it?

  • We identified someone who these woman would trust and are having her interview the women, using a set of questions we designed, the answers to which are recorded, transcribed and then translated (if needed).
  • In total, she will have sat down with ten women, and from what we’ve already seen – the stories are amazing, as they paint pictures of both great tragedy and triumph.

Why are we doing this?  

  • Well, for starters, we believe in a God who always seeks out the marginalized and disadvantaged.
  • Second, we believe in the power of story.  It is easy to be indifferent when you don’t know.
  • Our hope and prayer is that these stories will create a foundation for greater understanding and compassion for domestic workers.

What will we do with these stories?

  • There will definitely be a blog post!!!!
  • We will also work with partners, like Able Works, to share these stories though local news outlets and organizations, so that others can learn from these women.

Life Moves

This week, I was back at Life Moves in Palo Alto, serving lunch.  Those two hours, serving the homeless, never cease to soften my heart.  Here are two stories from Monday that have stuck with me.

  • PB Guy: We always try to smile and engage in friendly banter as clients move through the food line.  One elderly gentleman began trying to tell us something, in Spanish.  A handful of us were trying to translate what he was saying.  We finally figured out he was telling us that when he eats peanut butter, it gets stuck in his intestines.  (Okay….thanks for sharing.) We naturally jumped into problem solving mode….now that we understood, how could we help….what should we do….what did he want?  Turns out, nothing.  He didn’t want anything, other than for us to know.  Later, as we were cleaning up, this same guy starts coming to us with paper-towels, pointing at the towel.  Again, it took us a moment to figure out what he wanted.  Finally, we figured it out – he wanted us to put some of our cleaning spray on the towels so he could help.  I drove home, thinking about the PB Guy – he just wanted to be known.  He wanted to help.
  • Late Girl: Around the same time that the PB Guy was helping us clean-up and stack the chairs, a young lady came running in, asking if it was too late to eat.  She explained that the buses were late today and she was really hungry.  Quickly, we began gathering bits and pieces…..an apple here, a handful of crackers there.  We began stacking it all on a plate.  She looked over at a huge tray of pasta.  “Can I have some of that?”  Those of us serving looked at one another, our hearts breaking.  We explained that this tray had not been opened.  If we did open it and serve her, we would have to throw out the rest of the entire tray.  In the end, we were able to give her a plate that was stacked pretty high with different items we could take from the refrigerator or pantry. I will remember the Late Girl, her eyes filled with longing.

I return to Life Moves, not just because my faith requires that I am loving the least, but because my heart is the life that needs to move – more than any other.  If those of us with power and privilege learn how to see PB Guy and Late Girl with the eyes of Jesus, we will see Up There come Down Here.

Better Together

These ladies are my soul sisters.  We read.  We cry.  We organize.  We pray.  We celebrate. We talk….a lot.  They are my people.  I am reading Slow Kingdom Coming by Kent Anan.  He writes about how Micah 6:8 kingdom work is a long run – there are no easy solutions or short-cuts.  I’m in this for the long haul, but in the same way that Aaron helped Moses hold his arms heavenward during the battle against the Amalekites, so we all need folks who come alongside us.  I need these ladies to hold my heart and lift my hands, as we put our heads together for how we can do the same for others.  WE are better together and we know the same is true for the rest of the world.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

There are my *real* girlfriends and then there are my fantasy BFF’s…..the gutsy, progressive female Christian writers I do not know for real but they mean the world to me and they keep me sane during this not-so-sane season.  Sarah Bessey recently tweeted, “I’m fired up and burned out at the same time.”

THAT.

That is where I am right now.  Part of me is so weary but the other part of me remains mobilized and ready to fight.  As Cory Booker just recently said, “The opposite of justice isn’t injustice, it’s indifference, it’s inaction.”  So I’ll be damned if I go back.  This past year or so has been my Damascus Road.  Now that the scales are gone, there’s no retreating or surrendering to the numbness, even as the onslaught is unending.

DACA.  Charlottesville.  North Korea.  Puerto Rico.  Las Vegas.  Weinstein.  Earthquakes.  Floods.  Fire.

Disaster, both natural and manmade, have become a daily reality.

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Wine Country Devastation

Today, it isn’t just my heart but my literal home that is being burned out.  For the fourth day, Northern California, where I live, is on fire.  Thousands of acres have been burned.  Nearly thirty lives have been lost (that’s surely going to go up).  Again, our schools are forced to shelter-in-place.  Wineries, like Stag Leap, where I have wandered through the vineyards and tasted Cabernet’s with my husband, are completely destroyed.  While we are about 100 miles from the front lines, the smoke is heavy across the Peninsula.  You see the ash in the sky and your lungs instinctively tighten.  The feeling that it’s hard to breath….It seems oddly familiar.

 

Church, the world is going up in flames and it’s waiting to see whether or not we give a damn.  Too many of us have allowed religion to morph into sanctified indifference enabled by privilege.  But, once you take the mask off.  Once you open your eyes to the Syrian refugee and the young black man and the Latina domestic worker and Puerto Rican still without power….even if you’re not in the midst of the fire, you still see and smell the smoke.  You still can’t breath.

Screenshot 2017-10-12 12.16.06“I can’t breathe.”

Eric Garner’s last words have become the mantra for many protesting injustice.  There’s a line in the oldie, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, “When your heart’s on fire, you must realize smoke gets in your eyes.”  If you go anywhere near the fire, if you take a stand against power and privilege, if you intend to actually get into the trenches and love the least, smoke will get in your eyes.  That is just a fact.  What’s also true, is that anyone seeking God will find Him in the margins.  He is in the middle of the fire, and he calls us to join Him there.

 

Screenshot 2017-10-12 13.47.54In a couple of weeks, I’m crossing another item off my Forty-for-Forty list, attending a Lecrae concert in San Francisco.  Since November, I just can’t turn on Christian radio.  Happy worship songs play and chipper DJ’s banter with nary a mention of those desperate for a gospel that is good news.  They sing of love and grace, but where is the fruit?  Their silence reminds me of a people who voted overwhelmingly for Trump, take offense at athletes taking a knee but not at police brutality, value life in the womb but not enough to support commonsense gun control, pray for Texas but say nothing of Puerto Rico and I could go on and on.  On days when my chest feels tight and I can’t breathe, I crank up Lecrae.  One song called, Fuego, includes these lines:

I know this life it comes with pain
But it’s through our pain we win though
Could be made like Him so treat these streets like flint bro
Cause our God can spark up the dark
In the hearts of the hardest departed let’s go

Treat every night like it’s the last night
Like it’s the last time you get no other chances
Get your torches high let’s set ablaze the sky
Passion’s a fire bright and we’ll be burning forever
Set the world on fire let’s set the world on fire

The world’s on fire.  I can’t breathe.  But, then, but then….  Up There comes Down Here.  John the Baptist says in Matthew:

I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.  His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.

Long before Metallica (I now listen to more than just Christian worship and Classical), it was Shakespeare who coined the phrase, “Fight fire with fire.”  It means basically that – fight as your opponent fights.  In the Kingdom, we too fight fire with fire.  But, fire from above is nothing like that of earth.  In Christ’s upside down kingdom, the weak are strong, the first are last, there is no hunger, nobody ever receives a cancer diagnosis, justice prevails, the poor are blessed and love always wins.  When flames of holy fire come from Up There to Down Here, we taste shalom and see slivers of heaven.

This is not only the promise of eternity, it is His command to the church today.  And, the whole point of the gospel is that this is the time, this is the place.  Therefore, I am not waiting.  Give us this day, bring your kingdom Up There to Down Here for I am here, fired up and burned out.  Use me.  Let’s set the world ablaze.

 

 

Forty for Forty

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Proofs from my HS senior portrait

My fortieth birthday is in two weeks.  Am I freaking out?  Absolutely not.  Since I was in high school, I have felt like a forty-year old in my head.  Stick me in a coffee shop with the Sunday New York Times or a hefty historical biography and I’m on cloud nine.  That was me at 18 and that’s me today….  Still, for whatever reason, it’s an American tradition to make a big deal out of 40th birthdays.  So, deal me in.

Grand Emancipation

A few weeks before my 39th birthday, I sent my youngest child off to kindergarten.  I called it my Grand Emancipation.  In the months since then, I’ve been on a journey to figure out who the hell I am (when I’m not wiping runny noses and going to Mommy and Me music class) and what on earth God wants me to do with my life (I think it’s more than Pinterest inspired chore-charts for my kids and a full BSF schedule for me).  I wasn’t one of those moms with a lot of extra help during those years in the trenches, so these have truly been transformative months.

I have learned, for example, that my Micah 6:8 journey is indeed the path that God wants me on….that my faith is best expressed in a life built around love, justice and mercy – particularly to those who need it most.  Living with a Trump president.  Coming to terms with my own white privilege.  Confronting a faith that has been complicit in the face of racism and injustice.  These months of wrestling have not been easy.  But, questioning (and sometimes discarding) old ideas has been both healthy and liberating.  The more I learn, the more confident I am that this – the path of God-inspired social justice – is the right direction.

So, in the midst of all this heavy soul-searching, I’m launching my Forty for Forty campaign.  Put simply – it is a list of forty fun activities or treats that I’m proactively pursing in celebration of this milestone birthday.  Is it super cheesy?  Absolutely.  Is the nerd in me totally psyched?  You bet.  Am I done with justice?  No way.

What the hell do I like?

A few days ago, I started making my list.  I whizzed through the first 10-15 items. Then, I started running out of ideas.  Crap.  What the hell do I like to do?  Has it been that long since I’ve let loose and had fun?  Confession: You know you’ve not engaged in extensive ‘self care’ when you’re struggling to think of more than a dozen things you enjoy doing.  As silly as this exercise is, I AM learning a thing or two about myself in the process.

Realizing I needed some inspiration, I googled….’forty things to do for fortieth birthday’.  I had no idea whether the internet would come to my rescue or not.  Sure enough, there were tons of websites, blogs and even entire books!  I doubt that my list (which we will get to eventually!) will appeal to many, but can I just say to Estee Stanley at MyDomaine, you lost me at #4 on your list: Take care of your friends’ kids for the day.  Are you serious?   That idea is even worse than my daughter’s suggestion that I run a marathon.  To both of these, I say, I’m trying to treat myself – not punish myself!

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MyDomaine.com – Forty AWESOME things to do when you’re 40

So, back to the drawing board.  I clicked on another link, this one for Best Life.  Is that a men’s magazine?  I’m not even sure, but I needed ideas….ANY ideas that did not include killing myself with exercise or going insane watching other people’s kids (remember, I’m just barely out of the mommy trenches – maybe the idea will appeal more for my 50th….maybe).

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Best Life – 40th Birthday Ideas 

As you can see, we barely got past #4 this time, when the dudes at Best Life tossed out ubering a private plane as a legit suggestion.  I’m sorry…does that idea come with a winning lottery ticket?  And, if I may: THIS, friends, is a perfect example of the aspirational privilege of white men.  Anyways, back to the list….

Suffice to say I clicked through many blogs and articles, finding little inspiration.  I had no choice but to simply think about what brings ME joy.  So, here is what I came up with.

Dayna’s Forty for Forty List

  1. Eat a Mademoiselle Colette Chocolate Croissant
  2. Have a nice birthday dinner with husband
  3. Have tea or coffee with friends
  4. Schedule a lunch date with a good friend
  5. Get nails done
  6. Take a long walk with friends
  7. Go to a coffee shop, order a grande cappuccino and then just sit and read the Sunday New York Times or a historical biography
  8. Treat myself to Tinpot ice-cream
  9. Listen to live music
  10. Eat Mexican food (Can you ever have too much chips and guac?  Seriously.)
  11. Visit an art gallery or museum
  12. Get my hair done – maybe even try a new style
  13. Plan a spa day/get a massage
  14. Watch one of my favorite movies
  15. Spend an entire day in PJ’s
  16. Get a realllllly good, dense chocolate cake – like a flourless chocolate cake
  17. Look through all my photo books
  18. Buy a new lip gloss
  19. Go to the movie theater while the kids are at school
  20. Drink a really good red wine
  21. Take a bubble bath
  22. Enjoy my favorite Asian dishes
  23. Eat Chicago style pizza
  24. Spend an entire afternoon reading
  25. Drink a root beer float
  26. Enjoy a super long Skype chat with my Irish BFF
  27. Go to a bookstore without a ‘to buy’ or ‘to do’ list – just look at books (maybe buy a few)
  28. Yelp ‘best eggs Benedict’ and then go eat it
  29. Give myself permission to do NO CLEANING on my birthday
  30. Try a new food
  31. Update my will (I know, it sounds morbid but it’s truly reassuring to know your life, family, estate, etc., are in order)
  32. Reassess and possibly change where I give my time and money
  33. Take a family photo (okay, like the will, not so high up on the ‘fun factor’ but still something that’s worth it in the long-haul)
  34. Make plans to see friends who live further away
  35. Write down blessings
  36. Create a bucket list – things I want to do in my next 40 years
  37. Take time from all the spa days and indulgences to go to the homeless shelter, remembering that I am always so happy when I spend time there
  38. Spend a weekend away with my hubby 
  39. See Hamilton 
  40. Write a birthday blog post 

Sure It’s Grand

In the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863, Abraham Lincoln changed the federal legal status via executive order of more than 3 million enslaved people in the designated areas of the South from slave to free.  For many abolitionists it was cause for “grand emancipation jubilee.”  Frederick Douglass even called it a ‘death blow’ to the slaveholding rebellion.  But, the devil is in the details, which headlines and tweets often miss.  And, a quick review of our Civil War unit from American History class reminds us that ‘grand’ is far from ‘complete’ or ‘total’.  In fact, the 1963 Proclamation applied only to the 10 states still rebelling – it did not cover nearly half a million slaves in border states.  Other states under Union control, namely, Tennessee, as well as most of Virginia, West Virginia and Louisiana were exempted.  Though African-Americans gained the constitutional right to vote in 1870 via the 15th Amendment, the use of poll taxes, literacy tests and other means, allowed Southern states to effectively disenfranchise black voters. Thus, it wasn’t until 1965 – just 12 years before I was born – for full participation to be guaranteed with passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.  

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Or not????

#WTF

So, what the hell is a civil war history lesson doing in the middle of my otherwise lighthearted blog post about my 40th birthday?  Well, once a history buff, always a history buff.  That’s why I love to use witty phrases like ‘Grand Emancipation’ – which connect my life to fascinating historical topics.  But, here’s the problem: this last year of studying racism and bias has taught me that it’s only through the lens of my white privilege that I can casually employ euphemisms like, ‘Grand Emancipation’ to describe my transition from ‘stay at home suburban mom’ to ‘still stay at home suburban mom….with more time’.

If you are one of the millions of African-Americans in our country, not only is it highly probable that you remember FINALLY getting the right to vote, just 52 years ago, but it is almost certain that you still live with the remnants of America’s ‘original sin’ which lives on in the form of daily encounters with racism, bias and privilege.

Who’s Rescuing Who?

Yesterday, I finished a book titled, Rescuing Jesus, How People of Color, Women, and Queer Christians are Reclaiming Evangelicalism.  And, it is true…..the margins are where revival will happen.  The trenches are where the holy ghost is alive and well.  And, it is in loving the least that we are most likely to see God at work.  In the pages of books written by an Asian woman and in the lyrics of rap songs sung by a black man, I am rediscovering Jesus and with it, a whole new view of the gospel.  One of my favorite songs to blast in my minivan, as I run around town, is Tell the World.

Now, I’mma tell the world, tell the world, tell ’em
I’mma tell it everywhere I go
Tell the world, tell ’em
Yeah, I’m a billboard
Tell the world, tell ’em
And I’m broadcastin’ like a radio
Tell the world, you ought to know
I’m brand new

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Rewriting the ‘church clothes’ rules 

I’ve been thinking a lot about that…..  What does my billboard say?  What does my life say about my faith?  There is indeed much about me that is largely the same – from that 18 year old me in the senior portrait, to the nearly 40 year old me now.  I still love history and coffee shops.  I still love chocolate and root beer floats.  I still love Ralph Lauren (I know, I know, so very preppy but I now also have a Black Lives Matter hoodie – progress!).

 

The line from Tell the World, I’m brand new, references a verse in 2 Corinthians 5:17 that says: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

Folks who knew me back in high school probably would have described me as ‘nice’.  God, I hope that’s largely still true.  But, what’s also true is that (to borrow a phrase from Lynne Hybels) nice girls don’t change the world.  And, nice is not a spiritual gift or heavenly calling.  And, in my next 40 years, I pray God would continue remaking me.  I want to be the kind of person who not only knows the past history of racism but is presently working to tear down organizations and institutions that perpetuate systemic injustice.  I want to ruthlessly look at my own attitudes and assumptions, figuring out both where my privilege gives me a platform for helping others, as well as where I can learn from the oppressed and marginalized.

American culture offers a tradition 40th birthday celebrations that includes everything from private airplane rides to big birthday bashes to running marathons or watching your friends’ kids (well, according to one blog).  Americans weren’t the first to give special attention to the number 40.  As I wrote in my Lent post, 40 has special significance in the Bible, occurring 146 times and generally referring to periods of trial or testing.  Another confession: I think eating my favorite foods and hanging out with my favorite people sounds much more appealing!  But, I also know that a life limited to superficial niceness is no life at all.  So, if trial and testing mean leaning more intentionally into the life God created me for – I say, bring it!  Forty, here I come….holding my ‘Micah 6:8 Mission’ in one hand and my cheesy ‘Forty for Forty’ list in the other.

P.S.

With this blog post now published, I’ve officially crossed off an item from the list.  And, my husband justifiably argued for the inclusion of our SF weekend (last month) on the Forty for Forty list – it was pretty awesome.  You can read a bit about that weekend away, along with some other reflections on Year One of my Micah 6:8 life, here.

 

 

Surrender

So, Lent happened.

It wasn’t perfect.  But, it was good.  By perfect, I mean, I didn’t succeed in sticking with the 40 Acts.  However, those 40 Acts….the daily emails and Instgram reminders of folks around the globe making Lent personal and real in their lives, inspired a journey in my own.

I Fired Donald Trump

FullSizeRender 2In my last blog post, I shared my commitment to ‘give up Donald Trump’ for Lent.  I was inspired by Diana Butler Bass, who wrote in the Washington Post on Ash Wednesday, about how her mind had been ‘politically colonized’ by Trump.  She vowed to reclaim her mental geography during the 40 days leading up to Easter.  I took the pledge with her…..and, it worked.

Trump had become my gateway drug to a daily overdose of worry and stress.  During Lent, I permitted myself to still read the news.  But, guided by my new abstention, I steered clear of anything that was solely about Trump.  It wasn’t easy!  Yet, as the days passed, I could feel my anxiety level going down.  Mind you, I was absolutely not falling into a mindset of ‘God’s in control, therefore, I don’t need to do anything’.  Rather, to go back to the mental geography analogy – I had to create ‘real estate’ for God to come in and show me where and how He wanted me to respond to the world around.  It was a little hard to do that, when my mind perpetually horrified over Trump’s latest executive order or offensive tweet.  It didn’t take me long to find answers to the HOW and WHERE.  God definitely had a few nobler alternatives to Trump.

Cars

More often than a booming voice from heaven, the voice of God typically comes as a gentle prompting or ‘still small voice’, as 1 Kings describes it (when God spoke to Elijah).  I could fire Trump but I couldn’t fire myself from the job of being a mom.  Even as I created space for God, during the 40 days of Lent, I was still doing mundane mommy stuff, like shuttling my kids to their countless activists, playdates, doctor appointments, birthday parties, etc.  In the midst of shuttling little people, I began to get frustrated with my car – more than I ever had in times prior.  Something had to change.

We purchased our Volvo XC90 in 2007, WHEN THERE WAS ONLY ONE CHILD.  Now, there are THREE cherubs riding along.  And, not just three tinies….there are kids who steal and actually fit into MY clothes (not saying which one, but there’s only one girl…..).  When we bought the Volvo, I was convinced those three rows would suffice for as long as the car ran.  But, talk to my poor mother, who endured a few road trips with us, and she will tell you that rows two and three are as bad or worse as an economy seat on United.  Even quick trips around town seem long enough for WWIII to break out in the rows behind me.  Still, while I have long suspected that we’d one day need to trade our medium-sized SUV for a mini-van, 2017 was NOT the year our spreadsheet said we should make a change.

Why is any of this rambling relevant?  I had a perfectly good, low-mileage vehicle – it worked, even if we were all about to kill each other.  Why, if I truly wanted love, mercy and humility to be real in my life, would I go indulge in a new car?  The short answer is: it wasn’t just about what I needed…..it’s about what someone else needed.

Here’s the long answer…..

Willow

God bless Bill Hybels.  Truly.  I remember vividly, being an adolescent Chicago-girl going into Willow Creek for the first time.  I’d grown up in the Pentecostal church, where faith manifested itself as a list of rules and standards blended with charismatic worship.  This place was almost other-wordly to me; it was a complete 180 degree shift in what I’d known.

Exhibit A: we left the Pentecostal church because we were no longer welcome.  My mom was getting a divorce, and that was a sin.  I always tell the story, with the emphasis on my mom.  But, a friend recently pointed out to me that the injury was also to my brother and me…we were part of the collateral damage, stemming from this kind of dogma.  On the flip side, here was Willow Creek.  Not only was there a support community for folks going through divorce, but instead of showing you the door, they’d give you a car.  Literally.  They had a cars ministry, where donated cars would get fixed up and distributed to single moms from the community in need.  WOW!

My mom didn’t need a car.  But, we DID need compassion and a safe space to sort out our ‘next-steps’, after losing our church, house and father/husband.  Willow Creek gave us that.  And, many years later, my mom was able to donate her car.

Since then, I’ve dreamed of donating a car.  Maybe it is because of this personal history.  Maybe it is because of the shrieks of joy when an Oprah audience hears those fabled words, “YOU get a car and YOU get a car….”.  Maybe it is because of my growing heartache for those who’d been dealt a really rough hand.  To give someone a car….it seems so tangible.  It’s a vehicle.  IT TAKES YOU PLACES.  Literally, and figuratively.

Able Works

The last few months, I’ve been connecting with an organization in East Palo Alto, called Able Works.  They equip individuals with financial education, life skills and assets that enable one to live free from oppression and poverty.  On a whim, I asked they whether they ever took vehicle donations.  It’s not on their website, so I suspected they probably did not.  But, that ‘still, small voice’ was unrelenting.  ASK.  So, I did.  And, they DO.  And, better yet – they don’t just sell them at auction via a 3rd party – they actually allocate them to people from our community in need.  In fact, they had a woman in their LiveAble program, who desperately needed and had been praying for a car.  It’s hard to win an argument with the Holy Spirit.  This pretty much sealed the deal, in my heart, at least.

I still had to persuade my husband.  But, here’s the crazy part.  Even though we’re both Type-A Control Freaks…..even though ‘The Plan’ had not included a new car anytime soon (let alone the donation of our old car), my husband and I both felt an odd (for us!) peace, as we quickly switched course.  In the span of just a few days (which is faster than we ever make major decisions!)  we signed on the dotted line for a new minivan and committed to the gifting of our old car.  Looking back, it makes complete sense (especially, with the multiple road trips we plan to take this summer with our 3 kids + 1 dog!).  But, before Lent, we had no such plans.  And, I’m not sure my constant fretting over Trump would have ever facilitated such a decision process…..actually, scratch that – I am sure, it wouldn’t.

Messes

Lent was messy.  On Day 1, I confidently created a spreadsheet for tracking my #40Acts…..I only got to day 5 or 6.  Pathetic.  Right?  By my old standards, yes.  Lent is about confession.  So, here is my mine: the ‘Over Achiever’ me was already planning on day 2, the Easter blog post where I’d share my beautiful #40Acts spreadsheet.  No wonder, God derailed my grand plans after just a couple days!  They were my plans – not His.  But, in those early days, God  planted seeds for my ‘No Trump’ rule, which opened the door for our car donation.

Still, it didn’t happen overnight.  As the days and weeks passed, the blogger in me struggled….  I had nothing to say, nothing to write.  Everything was a jumble in my head.  There were so many moving parts and lingering question marks.  It didn’t fit into a neat, pretty package that I could easily translate into a coherent blog post.  That’s my ugly truth.  Even as I wholeheartedly build my life around justice, mercy and humility – I perpetually trip over myself.  No wonder, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15, we must die DAILY to our sins.  God wasn’t looking for 40 entries on my little spreadsheet.

In the midst of my mess, Jen Hatmaker posted a quote from her upcoming book, Of Mess and Moxie,

You are not required to save the world, or anyone for that matter, with your art.  It isn’t valuable only if it rescues or raises money or makes an enormous impact.  It can be simply for the love of it.  That is not frivolous or selfish in the slightest.  If the only person it saves is you, that’s enough. 

Whoa.  That quote was like a life-preserver, thrown into a sea of doubt and confusion.  I remembered that I started blogging, as a way to have public accountability for my personal spiritual journey.  Period.  It wasn’t about how often I posted or how many hits I got or even whether my writing opened doors down the road.  It was about making faith real, for my family and for me.  God put me in this world for a reason, to go OUT to the least, and live a Micah 6:8 life.  But….I must look UP….often.  Soon after this quote, Jen published a brutally honest blog post – her first in many months.  She wrote,

This year I became painfully aware of the machine, the Christian Machine. I saw with clear eyes the systems and alliances and coded language and brand protection that poison the simple, beautiful body of Christ.

The Old Me put the cart before the horse.  I wanted the blog post script that I could reverse engineer from a list or some sort superficial spiritual practice.  But, here’s the thing: I don’t think my blog is very high up on God’s priority list – especially, if it becomes a vehicle of the Christian Machine.  My soul, however, is.  God had called me to lean into Lent, which meant embracing some soul-level messiness.   CS Lewis taught that, if you want to live  in God’s image, then you have to live a truthful existence.  It turns out, the only way to truly experience God’s love is to bring my own story and brokenness into the light.  

FullSizeRenderSo, here’s where things stand now.  We are STILL WAITING for the new minivan.  I haven’t yet donated my car – it still sits in my garage.  (Hopefully, that will change in the next couple weeks!). But….  The Me that felt I should say nothing till the whole thing was a done deal, and I could present my complete journey as a pretty package….that ME lost.  The Me that felt anxious over the weeks going by with nothing to write about, opted to ‘be still’ in the silence.  God had graciously entered my mess, and answered my HOW (create space for God) & WHERE (give a car to Able Works) Lent Prayer.  God reminded me that the death and brokenness of Good Friday always precedes beauty and provision of Resurrection Sunday.

Redemption

FullSizeRender 4Easter.

Remember that?  Easter Bunny.  Cross.  Lilies.  Peeps.  Ring any bells?

Funny, how fast we move on.  I’m sure a professional ‘blog consultant’ would say that there’s no sense writing about Easter, a whopping week after the holiday has come and gone.  But, see, that’s the problem.  Easter isn’t a holiday.  It’s everything.

Easter is not only the cornerstone of Christian faith, it’s also the day, over 60 years ago, that my grandmother was murdered.  Every year, when I celebrate a Risen Savior, I remember a lost mother and grandmother, a women I never knew, yet desperately miss.  If ever there were a motivation to find beauty in the broken, this has been it.  I’ve wanted my life to somehow bring meaning, inspiration and purpose out of her death.  Parts of my life look neat and tidy.  But, many parts are a big mess.  Sometimes, you lose someone you love, waaaaay too soon.  Sometimes, marriages end and dads disappear.  Sometimes, the doctor confirms your worst fear, and you join the cancer club.  Sometimes, ‘religion and politics’ clash in ways that are messy and painful to untangle or understand.  Sometimes, life reminds us, ‘why Easter’.

This post wasn’t intended to be an ‘Ode to Jen Hatmaker’.  But, the words from her last blog cut to my core, on so many levels.

I believe in the resurrection, so I know it will come. It always does. God wrangles victory out of actual, physical death. The cross taught us that. You can’t have anything more dead than a three-day old dead body, and yet we serve a risen Savior. New life is always possible evidently, well past the moment it makes sense to still hope for it. The empty tomb taught us that. I have enough faith to live a Friday and Saturday existence right now without fear that Sunday won’t come. It will come. I am nearly certain the way it will look will surprise me; I’m watching for the angel on the tombstone.

Every. Single. Time.

FullSizeRender 5Every time I read that paragraph, I cry.  That’s why I had to share the whole freakin’ thing.  God wrangles victory out of actual, physical death.  He did it once, so that we can claim it over and over and over again…..like, when your Grandma is taken on Easter Sunday.  God still wins.

Redemption is defined as the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.  Only God can do that.  But, now He has extra help.  I believe that my Grandma watches over me….that her spirit is no longer where her tombstone sits, but that she is in heaven, with Jesus.  Now, she is one of the angels.  And, over sixty years later, her story propels me to nobler heights.

Surrender

FullSizeRender 6Daily, we die.  That’s surrender.  Some days, it’s Donald Trump.  Other days (if you’re crazy planners with detailed financial spreadsheets, like my husband and me), it’s a car.   Sometimes, the Trumps and the cars remind you of that verse in Romans:

So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.

Indeed, when we pause long enough to stop tripping over ourselves, God shows up in the most unexpected ways.  That’s the most concrete thing I can say.  This story isn’t finished, but I’m trying to let it be God’s story – not mine.  I’m trying to let the lessons of Lent and significance of Easter seep into the deepest parts of me.  It’s the only way to write the next chapter in my Micah 6:8 life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leaning into Lent

Leaning into Lent

Running

No joke, I could employ someone nearly full-time JUST to deal with my family’s health issues.  It’s not that we’re a super sick bunch!  But, it all adds up!  My daughter, who broke her ankle in three places, right after Christmas, is STILL in an orthopedic boot and needing regular trips to the specialist.  This same lovely child, also has ear issues, so has been making near weekly trips to the ENT.  Just this morning, she asked me at the breakfast table, if I could make her an appointment with the Pediatrician, to freeze off a plantar wart.  (Side-note: am I the only mom who’s given up eating breakfast on school days?  Just give me my STRONG coffee, so I can be half awake to drive you to school.  I’ll eat when I get you little monsters, I mean loves, to school.). Anyways, my middle child is at the orthodontist almost weekly, these days.  Thank God for my youngest, who has zero health issues….well, that we’ve noticed.  That kid has learned out of necessity, how to ‘go with the flow’.

This is the first year that my three kids have been at school ALL day, so you would think that I’d have tons of time as a stay at home mom.  Think again.  Life is still crazy, whether it’s with these never-ending doctor and dentist visits, in addition to the usual assortment of after school activities.  Every mom, whether she works in or out of the home, can tell you that the BUCK STOPS WITH US, when it comes to family life.  When you learn that cute kid who came over yesterday has lice, guess who does 20 loads on the sanitary cycle THAT DAY?  MOM.  When you need someone to take you to the doctor to get that wart frozen off, who takes you?  MOM.

This is not intended to be a slight to men.  My husband is an amazing cook.  From the first day my kids entered this world, he’s been the designated nail clipper.  (I’ll never forget him showing up at the hospital with about 3 baby clippers, not sure which one would be best for our little bundle – we all remember how sharp yet how delicate those tiny fingers nails can be!).  He helps around the house and he’s an excellent provider.  But, at any given moment, it’s MOM who carries the insanely long ‘to do’ list related to the people they love.  We never stop running, for there is always someone or something to catch.

Day 1

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.  What is lent?  Not too long ago, I could not have told you.  As I’ve written here, I grew up Pentecostal.  We did not follow a liturgical calendar.  Heck, we doubted Catholics were true Christians, and were probably not going to heaven, since they weren’t ‘born again’, as we were.  I’ve come a long way since then!  These days, whether it’s the writings of Nadia Boltz-Weber or the latest statements from Pope Francis, I’ve found my brothers and sisters from the Catholic and Episcopal faiths to be some of the most inspiring and faith-filled figures in Christianity today.  Yet, the Liturgical Calendar eludes me.

Since it was never my practice to eat fish on Fridays or celebrate Lent, I’ve often given myself a ‘free pass’ on these traditions, even as I’ve attended a Presbyterian church for the last 10 years, where services for Ash Wednesday and Maundy Thursday (among others) are offered.  But, as I pursue a deeper, more authentic faith, I have to ask myself, ‘why not’?  Why not practice Lent?

What is Lent?

Part of the reason I didn’t practice Lent, is because I didn’t understand it.  Ignorance isn’t always bliss – often, it’s just ignorance.  And, this is also true in faith.  So, here’s the answer: Lent is an annual season of fasting and penitence in preparation for Easter, beginning on Ash Wednesday and lasting 40 weekdays to Easter.  I love the way Katelyn Beaty describes it, with what it is NOT, in her recent Christianity Today article:

Lent is not about making ourselves miserable for its own sake, inflicting pain for sins committed throughout the year….The crazy and wonderful news is that, in Christ, we have been declared fit before God….A Lenten observance without this knowledge can easily reinforce common Protestant critiques (and caricatures) of Catholic or Catholic-ish rituals.

Beaty goes on, quoting Puritan theologian, John Owen, to explain what Lent IS:

Lent can become a practice in calling Christians to mortification instead of believing.  It goes without saying, anyone who chooses to observe Lent must do so in a way that puts front and center “the power of God and the mystery of the gospel.”

fullsizerender-34Now, I understand lent to be a season for remembering, in word and deed, the primary pillars of the gospel.  One of the pillars I hold most dear, is grace.  But, grace can so easily be cheapened when we skip confession.  Confession is at the heart of today, Ash Wednesday.  Nadia Boltz-Weber explains this first day of lent:

Once a year, on a Wednesday, we mix ashes with oil. We light candles and confess to one another and to God that we have sinned by what we have done and what we have left undone. We tell the truth. Then we smear the ashes on our foreheads and together acknowledge the single reality upon which every Catholic and Protestant, believer and atheist, scientist and mystic can agree: “Remember that you are dust and to dust and to dust you will return.” It’s the only thing we know for sure: we will die.

Truth showed up big time, over a recent cup of coffee at Mademoiselle Colette.  We were supposed to be having a ‘happy birthday’ luncheon.  But, somehow, we ended up talking about death.  We talked about our own mortality and that of people we love…about what really matters and whether we’re living our lives and raising our families in ways that align with our core beliefs and values.  And, I don’t mean this in the way Christians often interpret *values* or *morality*…that I don’t swear or drink too much alcohol or skip church….I mean it more in the, do I pray for those that offend me  (Donald Trump) or do I give sacrificially to those in need (even those of a different religion, like Muslim refugees) or am I willing to see my comfortable life get turned upside down for the sake of justice and mercy (to advocate for the undocumented or fight racism)?  Lately, I’m leaning into the prickly places.

My Confession

I intentionally said ‘lean’ and not ‘jump’.  I am not jumping into these things.  Control freaks, like me, rarely jump.  But, I am leaning.  Serving lunch to the homeless has been one of the ways I’m trying to ‘lean into’ loving the least.  But, let’s be clear – God’s still got a lot of work to do in me.  Here’s an embarrassing example.  The homeless shelter has asked that volunteers, like me, fill out a bunch of forms.  I mean…A BUNCH.  I’ve still not finished my Live Scan (background check) or the TB test, because, honestly, it’s inconvenient.  I’ve not had time.  This weekend, I was running through my mental checklist for the week, and remembered these two items for the shelter, which I STILL need to do.  And, there was this moment, when my thoughts went to that dark place….“they’re JUST homeless people….why must I do so much for THEM….I don’t even do that much to volunteer at school!!!!!”

Not pretty, I know.

But, sometimes we need to see the truth in ourselves.  In the next moment, God quietly and gently reminded me of just how much He loves them (the homeless who come to the shelter).  He reminded me of the posts I’ve written, where I waxed eloquent on the immeasurable worth of each one of us, and how God’s gospel, over and over again, is one of love for the least….for that is where God’s heart is.  He reminded me of the truth I know, but so often forget.

Who needs Lent?  Me.

My Practice

Generosity

So, how to practice lent when you don’t have any traditions, and you REALLY don’t want to give up chocolate, coffee or wine for 4o days?  Well, a couple of days ago, the same friend who  invited me to the shelter, posted a link on Facebook to a movement centered around Lent, called 40 Acts of Generosity.  She asked folks to join her.  Confession (yes, another one): my first thought was, I’m too busy, and I really don’t want to fail.  Not only am I a control freak, but I’m also a perfectionist.  If I’m going to sign-up, I want to get an A, goddamnit.  But, today, God tugged at my heart with a tenderness I don’t deserve.  He nudged me to go back to the link, and just check it out.  As I watched the video, I realized that this was the kind of thing I was saying I wanted to build my life and faith around….now, here was a chance to bridge the ‘knowing/doing’ gap….to turn my words into action.  So, I’ve signed up!

A Different Denial

In writing this post, I stumbled upon an article published today in the Washington Post, titled, Seriously, I am giving up Donald Trump for Lent. Here’s how. Reading it, I knew – this is something I need to do.  Diana Butler Bass writes, “In recent years, more of my friends have taken something distracting out of their life to add a practice that is more life-giving.”  She explains WHY Donald Trump, confessing, “For the past three months, I had gone to bed thinking about the president and often woke up in the morning doing the same. I realized my soul had been politically colonized, and that it was taking huge effort to think and talk about other things with family and friends.”  

When I read this, I immediately thought of the wise words a friend, who recently told me it was okay, even as you seek God’s guidance on where He wants you in the world, to pull away for a time.  She encouraged me to simply draw near to God, that maybe my life and present pursuit were starving me of His love.  I know, I know, I know….this sounds like typical ‘Christianese Speak’.  But, I assure you , it was not; she read my heart and offered me an invitation to let God find me in the midst of a difficult faith season.  Lately, I question why evangelicals are silent when the world is hurting or how I can best to navigate conversations with my own pastors about what the role of the church should be, etc. or if my ‘best yes’ is in partnering with community organizations, rather than the usual ‘church service projects’????  As I grapple with these questions, and more, she gave me two great questions to ponder:

Lord, who are you?

AND

Where are you?

The Word(s)

Another dear friend, who loves me like a sister, unilaterally decided that the two of us would do an NT Wright study of Romans.  And, can I just insert here, that while I hate what’s happening in our country and the suffering across the globe, I cannot deny the way God has rallied the most dear friends during these difficult times?  I’m not sure we would have bonded the way we have, if we weren’t collectively heartbroken for the same things.  Anyways, back to the study….  we are just beginning, but this season of Lent is surely a time for shifting my gaze away from the words….countless tweets and articles… things that are not life-giving… to digging deep into the Word.  I am reminded so clearly of WHO God is and WHERE He is.

To go back to ‘Giving up Trump’….  I like the way Diana offers a nuanced approach to this abstinence.  Lord knows, a political junkie like me might not survive a complete severing with all current events ties.  She explains:

Politics is about finding new connections between people and working for the common good. If I stop fretting over a single individual, I can be more engaged in creating a community where love of neighbor matters. That is the purpose of Lent: giving up distraction and finding space for what gives life.     

This sounds like Lent, to me.  It is what my soul needs for a season.  In 41 days, I will return.  God did not make me to perpetually put my head in the sand.  But, today, I will make space for God’s love to lean into me.

Come as you are party

I will start with confession, and then move to a place of surrender to the power of God’s love and mystery of the gospel.  Out of that, I pray there’s a sincere outpouring of generosity.  I’m gonna give the 40 Acts my best shot.  Another confession: I’m sure to miss a few days.  But, I’m trying to be okay with the fact that this isn’t about ticking boxes – it’s about cultivating discipleship and practicing love.  It’s about remembering that God actually loves me.  As Anne Lamott tweeted on All Things Considered (for my fellow NPR lovers): “God loves us absolutely unconditionally as is.  It’s a come as you are Party.”  God takes us, plantar warts, and all.  When we’re ready to stop running, He’s ready to catch us.  The cross, which is what Lent prepares us for, is God catching us – now, and forever.

Make America Great Again

fullsizerender-14It doesn’t get much better than Jon Stewart on the Late Show with Stephen Colbert. We are less than two weeks into the Trump administration and I’m even more panicked than I was the day after the election. As Salena Zito wrote in the Atlantic, back in September, “The press takes him literally, but not seriously; his supporters take him seriously, but not literally.” Well, guess what folks…he meant what he said. So, I guess it wasn’t so crazy for those of us on the left to freak-out over some of his more outlandish statements….it wasn’t hyperbole. Which, brings us back to Stewart and Colbert….two of my favorite satirists, always, but especially these days. Stewart ended his bit by saying that we’re gonna make America great again….just not in the way Trump envisioned.

fullsizerender-20I sat in Mama Coco, a Mexican restaurant in Menlo Park, the day of the inauguration. I was joined by friends who are studying white privilege with me. We were numb with sadness…..our usually chatty group had no words. We watched, as a large group of protestors stood along El Camino Real. Some planned to participate in the Women’s March in San Francisco the next day. Some were not sure whether protesting was something they were comfortable with. For a collection of left-leaning white evangelical women, the world of ‘protest’ is a new one. We all felt called to resist – we just varied on the ways in which we felt we could best make fullsizerender-18a difference. As we left, I told one of the gals that while I’d never in a million years wish for a Trump victory, I confessed that the silver lining was that now we’d have to actually put our faith into action. Now, it was time to be the Church and the People.

Since that day, we’ve begun exchanging ideas on how we can make an impact. For those who also reside in the lonely land between traditional evangelical alliances and progressive politics, here’s are some ideas for making America great again….just not in the way Trump envisioned.

Make the Church Great Again

As Shane Claiborn tweeted today, in response to a statement by Franklin Graham (don’t get me started….), “No. It is theological malpractice to say that the president is exempt from the Sermon on the Mount or not accountable to Christ’s commands.” We are ALL accountable. I’m not sure why I even have to say that, but newsflash…there are no exemptions. For the those of us who love Jesus and are aghast at Trump’s first 12 days, we must stand up.  Even as we preach, we must hold ourselves to the same standards we’re asking of others. With that said, what shall we preach?

How does the church ‘show up’ in this moment?  We must stand with the oppressed.

1. IT’S TIME TO BE THE CHURCH.

Jim Wallis was in the Bay Area this weekend, teaching on Matthew 25. Here are verses 35-36:

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.

These verses are not only compelling on their own, but especially when read in the context of the rest of the chapter, where Jesus essentially explains how to get into heaven. Near the end of this chapter is where Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”

Church, there’s no ‘out’ for national security or political ideology or personal finances or any other consideration. What we DON’T do for the least, we DON’T do for Jesus.  As Jen Hatmaker tweeted this morning, your chance of being killed in a terror attack carried out by refugees is 1 in 3.6 billion.  Sit on that for a second…..

We probably don’t need lessons in public policies from the pulpit, but we do need reminders on what the scriptures actually say, as they relate to current events in our nation today.  Talk to your pastor or church leaders.  I am so grateful to the Pope, among others, for being respectfully direct in his statements on immigrants and refugees.  We need more Christian leaders to join him.  

You can take the Matthew 25 Pledge here.

2. Learn.  

Church, lives are at stake here.  The least we can do is educate ourselves.  If these ideas are foreign (pardon the pun) or scary to you, commit to at least educating yourself. A recent Christianity Today article provides not only a good summary on this issue, but some great links to books by Christian authors on this topic.  Or, here’s a great article in the Washington Post, just out February 1st, explaining the already robust vetting process.

3. Skip the BS. Consider actually doing something.

Seriously, don’t be a goat. (Read Matthew 25) God isn’t fooled and the rest of the world isn’t either. For heavens sake, we’ve seen more protests in the last few days than in decades prior. The Women’s March is being called one of the largest demonstrations ever. So, we can’t afford to sit on our laurels and do nothing. And, even as we do something, we must recognize that our credibility is one the line if we talk the talk without walking the walk.

To walk with others, especially migrants and refugees, here are some ideas.

  • First, churches can shed their reputation for being irrelevant religious relics by teaching about these topics and creating forums for conversation. If we can’t apply the scriptures to our present day, what’s the point? The word ‘sanctuary’ originates in the Bible, and it doesn’t just mean the fancy auditorium where we sing worship songs. In the scriptures, the words sanctuary and refuge are often used interchangeably.
  • Second, if we can’t have respectful dialogues within our faith communities, we should seriously close our doors.  How can there be reasonable hope in elsewhere if we can’t do it ourselves???
  • Lastly, in addition to talking about these issues from the pulpit, can become literal sanctuaries, of learning, support and protection by sponsoring immigration clinics or supporting refugee relief organizations (thanks to Laura Ortberg Turner for this list: CAIR, IRC, and The Bread Project) and to even physical protection and refuge. As one Methodist minister said in a recent RNS article, “It’s really key that people of faith be active, especially white America….It’s time to put your bodies, buildings and assets on the line.”

The Bible is pretty clear that we become great when we come alongside the least. Period.  Now would be a good time to put that concept into practice.  As we do, let’s remember to encourage one another.  Whether you take your stand on Facebook or behind a pulpit, progressive Christian leaders have been punished in recent months for their views.  There’s no getting around the fact that 81% of evangelicals voted for Trump.  The 19% that spoke out before and after the election have paid a steep price, whether it’s Russell Moore risking his position with the Southern Baptist Convention in the wake of Trump criticism or Jen Hatmaker being pulled from Lifeway bookstores for her LGBTQ comments or Shauna Neiquist for her expressed enthusiasm over the Women’s March…  Visit the Facebook pages of Rachel Held Evans or Sarah Bessey, and you’ll find plenty of vicious attacks, all uttered in the name of Jesus, of course.  NOT OKAY.

So, let’s drown out those voices (the mean ones, not necessarily the dissenting ones) by walking humbly through this process, giving a lot of grace along the way.  There’s the phrase, iron sharpens iron.  We can do that for one another, but not so successfully when we are constantly trying to stab one another in the back.

Make America Great Again

I don’t know why young people or minorities don’t vote. Truly. I know that access has been seriously curtailed by a variety of factors, for African Americans, in particular. But, even still, that doesn’t explain why so many didn’t show up on November 8th.

But, that was November 8th….. I have a feeling that President Trump will inspire more young people and minorities to get involved than any prior voter-registration or citizenship drive ever could. Citizen participation in the last 11 days has been off the charts.  IT’S TIME TO BE THE PEOPLE.

According to the latest Pew Research Center polls, cited in NY Magazine, the Women’s fullsizerender-17March not only made a better impression than the tea party movement and marches of 2010, it made a BETTER one. In addition, 40% of democratic women say they plan to get more involved in political causes this year. Newsflash: women are busy….we needed another project as much as Alec Baldwin needs more Trump material. That’s huge that 40% would say they will make space for greater political involvement.

To paraphrase the Japanese commander Isoroku Yamamoto, after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, we may have awakened a sleeping giant.  If events of the last few days are any indication, we may have finally awakened a bigger chunk of our nation’s citizenry.  And, that’s a good thing.  Democracy was never intended to be a spectator sport. 

At the local level, folks on the Peninsula have a wide array of organizations they can plug into.  There are three near and dear to my heart that I want to plug here.

  • Able Works: This group, led by my friend Sue, equips individuals with financial education, life skills and assets that enable one to live free from oppression and poverty. FYI, they are hosting an event on February 9th, FINDING A WAY FORWARD: Mass Incarceration, Community Policing and The Effects On The Family.  Go if you can!
  • Life Moves Opportunity Services Center: This is the spot where my journey began in the fall, to help ‘the least’/Bay Area homeless by serving lunch.  There are lots of ways to plug-in; they do excellent work in striving to break the cycle of homelessness.
  • My New Red Shoes: Founded by one of my best friends, this amazing group works to give kids the tools they need to be confident at school.  One of the main reasons of absenteeism, is adequate clothing/shoes.  My New Red Shoes works with local community partners across the bay to provide kids with clothes and shoes at the start of each year.  They work year-round to prepare for the 1st day of school.  At Mothers Together last Tuesday, we donated shoes, sewed bags and made cards.  In addition, My New Red Shoes is one of the few charities you can bring your kids, if you want to volunteer at their warehouse.

There are countless ways to get involved.  These are just a few.  But, if the last 12 days are any indication, those at the bottom will get hit the hardest in the coming four years.  Some folks are taking the bold step of running for office.  Some are writing letters and making phone calls. Others are plugging into activist roles with various organizations.  As Americans, it’s time for us to wake-up, smell the coffee, and get involved.  Even if I don’t always agree with you, I believe in our democracy enough to know that if millions of Americans get engaged in the process, we will come out ahead in the end.

While I think engaging in person is the best way to get involved, I’d be remiss if I didn’t list a few ways to let your money do the talking.  You can support, with your purchases, these companies and organizations working to help refugees or immigrants:

  • The CEO’s of Netflix, Apple, Airbnb, Nike, Ford, Starbucks and many more have all been critical of the refugee ban.  Starbucks is also vowing to hire 10,000 refugees. fullsizerender-19 Airbnb is offering free housing to refugees.  Support companies that have taken a stand on this issue, even in the face of a president determined to punish those who oppose him.  I’m using this as an excuse to drink more Starbucks coffee!
  • One of my new favorite groups is Preemptive Love.  Refugees actually make these fullsizerender-16amazing soaps.  Your purchase helps support them.  I gave several bars out at Christmas, and folks loved them.  They also have some great t-shirts, among other things.
  • Support organizations providing help on the ground AND create a conversation starter buy purchasing a cool t-shirt from either the ACLU or Southern Poverty Law Center.

Make Our Families Great Again

Part of the reason I started this blog, was because I wanted to be publicly accountable in my effort as a mom to teach my kids what it looks like to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly.  I shared in my last post, how my kids aren’t always jumping for joy when I suggest a book, film or activity that isn’t somehow related to Disney, Marvel or Legos.  But, they also don’t like veggies.  That doesn’t mean I give up.  I keep trying.  I get creative.  This matters.

For me, this is my most important measure as mom….did I teach my kids how to truly love God by loving others?  Not in the, show up for Sunday school each week way….but, in the tolerance for others not like you or compassion for the person on the corner or in sacrifice giving to those in need….  We are called to love one another, regardless of how they’ve messed up or if they look like us or pray to the same God as us or the color of their skin…..loving God means loving ALL His people.

Since this is Black History Month, I wanted to invest in some books for my kids that would heighten their awareness of social justice issues.

I’m looking for options other than just books.  But, during these rainy winter days in California, it’s a start.  Going back to Black History Month, here’s a Frederick Douglas quote that Shane Claiborne tweeted yesterday: “Between the Christianity of this land and the Christianity of Christ, I recognize the widest possible difference.”  I guess some things take a long time to change….but, we must be the change we want to see (to quote Ghandi).

Be Bonhoeffer

One of my friends from the White Privilege study encouraged me to read Bonhoeffer’s biography.  While I haven’t read the whole thing yet, my initial inquiry into this storied leader in Christian history readily reveal why my friend felt we might be inspired today by his example.

It’s one thing to quote Bonhoeffer, it’s another thing to emulate the minister that stood up to Hitler.  Now, before some of you jump off the deep end….I’m not saying Trump is Hitler.  (I do wonder sometimes, but that’s not my point.)  My point is that we can’t pretend that if we could go back in history to the periods and people we extoll, that we’d be right there with them….but, then we have 101 excuses for why we can’t take the same risks or emulate in any fashion the courageous men and women we admire.  Not all of us were cut out to pick up picket signs and protest.  But, that doesn’t mean we don’t have spheres of influence and places where we can take a stand.  WE MUST TAKE A STAND.  Here are a few quotes from his biography that cut to my core:

  • Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.
  • Christianity stands or falls with its revolutionary protest against violence, arbitrariness, and pride of power, and with its plea for the weak. Christians are doing too little to make these points clear … Christendom adjusts itself far too easily to the worship of power. Christians should give more offense, shock the world far more, than they are doing now.
  • Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than they love the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest, and sacrificial.
  • Being a Christian is less about cautiously avoiding sin than about courageously and actively doing God’s will.

I’ve always loved listening to Christian music.  In my car, NPR, the classical station and KLOVE are the three stations I tune to most often.  But, these have been difficult days.  As one evangelical friend who is half-Indian recently told me, I’ve never felt so lonely at church.  I get it.  Sometimes, it’s like the WASPY world would love for the dust to settle, so we can get back to business as usual.  But, when your kids are half Asian or your husband has a green card and you worry whether he’ll be allowed back into the US when he travels or your African American best friend is torn apart by the racism in America or you find out that a precious child in your class is undocumented and living in daily fear….when you dip your toe outside of the WASPY world, you see things differently.

Whether I’m in the car or in church, I wonder if the words mean the same thing to others that they mean to me…if they take them seriously or just figuratively.  These days, I take them more and more literally.  As much as I feel somewhat alone in my faith, I am reassured by the small but passionate band of friends who share my deep devotion to the Jesus who came and gave it all for all.  The other day, a new song called Giants Fall by
Francesca Battistelli, came on the radio.  Its words soothed my overwhelmed heart, reminding me of who God is and what He can do.

Don’t you be afraid
Of giants in your way
With God you know that anything’s possible
So step into the fight
He’s right there by your side
The stones inside your hand might be too small
But watch the giants fall

I’m clinging to these words.  I am not afraid.  Anything is possible.  GIANTS WILL FALL.  It’s not just about America….it’s about all of us across the globe.  God always has been, He is, and He always will be GREAT…just not always the way we initially envisioned.

 

 

 

 

Farewell, Mr. President

 

fullsizerender-12
Medal Ceremony

We’re going through a lot of Kleenex these days.  First, there was President Obama’s Farewell Address in Chicago.  Then, there was the surprise conferment of the Medal of Freedom by Obama to his beloved Vice President, Joe Biden.  This morning, I saw a video of Obama visiting a homeless shelter where children were the recipients of Sasha and Malia’s playground set.  And, just now, Obama held his final press conference.  Cue the tears!  THIS WHITE, EVANGELICAL WOMAN IS HEARTBROKEN TO SEE OBAMA GO.

 

Coffee, wine and then tea…..

fullsizerender-3I love coffee.

I love wine.

Sadly, you can only drink so much of both.  It seems as though even Mother Nature mourns, as it has been an unusually cold and rainy winter in California.  And, so, I drink a lot of tea.  Last night, I stared at the tag: Comforting Camomile….if only.  If only it were so simple.  If only the clouds would part, and we’d realize it was all just a bad dream.  But, it’s not.  And, I’m left to sit with my emotions….to think, and pray and contemplate how I will respond.  And, honestly, I still don’t know.  That’s partly why I’ve not blogged.  What do you say?  Some of what we’re going through is unchartered territory; the other part is rooted in conflicts that have festered for decades, even centuries.

The other reason I haven’t blogged is because life happened.  My daughter broke her ankle in three places.  We got a puppy.  My mom was healed.

That last one isn’t a typo or even an exaggeration.  Today, my mom celebrates yet another birthday, laughing in the face of a cancer that has threatened her place in this world for over a year.  After a lifetime of loving others, the affection has come full circle, as friends and family have become the hands and feet of Jesus, taking her to appointments, bringing meals, saying prayers…..those prayers….they worked.  We never thought that ‘remission’ was a word we’d hear, yet it’s the word that the Mayo Clinic doctors gave – it’s a word we now cling to.

Remission isn’t just for cancer.  Remission is for sins.  I look at the church today, and our divisions are like a cancer.  It is a no-brainer that when a loved one is sick, you pray.  You gather, you organize, you rally, you contribute – one way or another.  But, these days, when our nation is sick and hurting, we seem to be tripping over one-another…sometimes, even making enemies when what we need are allegiances.  If only Obama could pardon our pains in his final days; but, the absolution we seek, is one only God can give.  And, while I believe strongly that there’s much government could and should do, my deep heartache comes in watching mainstream Christians wish to sweep discords under the rug and just move on.

Don’t Be A Dog

fullsizerender-2
Happy Go Lucky Kid

To be fair, I’m tempted to look for my broom too.  I’m tempted to sweep this moment and this heartache from my life.

 

We just got a puppy, Calli.  My husband used to say that in his next life, he wanted to come back as our happy go lucky six-year-old.  We envy his charmed life.

Then, Calli came….bliss found even higher heights!  The whole family is entertained by this pup who wishes for nothing more than to just be with her people.  She eats.  She plays.  She cuddles.  She pees and poops.  And, that’s about it.  Life is good.  Now, we joke that we want to come back as Calli.  What could be better?

fullsizerender-8Genesis.  Genesis tells us what’s better.

So God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.

God had created many marvelous things to fill the heavens and earth; only one was created in His image.  Us.  Only one creation was made to be like God.  As John Ortberg detailed in a sermon at Menlo Church last Sunday, humanity’s very first commandments were essentially to go have sex, to enjoy the delicious fruits and foods and to go innovate, create and rule.  We are made in His image.  And, from Genesis to Revelation, the most constant themes are of love, grace and mercy…..not legalism or jugmentalism.  So, why do we lead with this when we go into the world?

We have a unique opportunity, to be like God.  This is a gift given to no other img_1371creation….even dogs (man’s best friend).  Being ‘like’ God and ‘being God’ are two entirely different things, to be sure.  Assuming that our collective calling is to be like Christ, then the proof of this pursuit is the fruits of the spirit, which are:  love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  As much as a big part of me wants to shrink back into my safe and comfortable life, to make cups of tea, pull my babies and puppy close and just shut out the world – I know that this is to miss out on not just God’s strongest commandments but also His greatest invitation….to be part of something that is worthy, holy and eternal.

Facebook Follies

I live in Menlo Park….home to Facebook.  I love it for the ways I can connect with friends across the globe.  I love it for the way I can efficiently share life events with those closest to me.  I love that I’ve found women like Sarah Bessey, Jen Hatmaker and Rachel Held Evans….all through Facebook.  Facebook has its strengths.  It also has its weaknesses.  We’ve seen this in the last election.  We found our silos.  And, to our detriment, we’ve dug even deeper trenches.

On Monday, many of us availed ourselves of the feel-good exercise of posting favorite MLK quotes.  But, thankfully, women like Rachel Held Evans reminded us of our tainted Christian history:

“Reducing the struggles of the past to conflict between “the Christians” and “the culture” disregards the fact that slavery, Jim Crow, Native American removal, and all sorts of racial and gender inequalities have all flourished in a supposedly Christian culture…It’s easy to comfort ourselves with the thought that Christians of the past were only using religion and Scripture to support their oppression, but in truth those Christians rarely saw it that way. Often the difference between using Scripture to justify injustice and appealing to Scripture to support the truth proves clearest in hindsight. Pride, privilege, and confirmation bias are formidable adversaries on the path to justice, which is why we must familiarize ourselves with past justifications for oppression or inaction lest we make the same mistakes again.”

She spoke to an inconvenient truth that while hard to swallow, resonates because I know it is not a white-washing of history.  And, as they say, if we do not study and learn history in its truest form – we are bound to repeat it.  This is my great fear, as we head into the next four years.  I replied to Rachel’s post and she responded.  Here’s our exchange:

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So, there you have it.

It might not be an exhaustive list of solutions, but it is definitely a good place to start.  And, discussing solutions and paths forward is indeed where the church can and should set an example.

Sadly, without going into details, there were multiple white men who quickly replied to my question, feeling the need to say that Trump isn’t a racist, misogynist, Islamophobe, etc.  I was shocked.  This is MLK Day.  We are exchanging ideas on racial healing.  My question never labeled Trump as any of those things.  But, it clearly touched a nerve.

The day after MLK Day, a friend sent me these wonderful words written by Richard Rohr:

We see in the Gospels that it’s those on the bottom who tend to follow Jesus: the lame, the poor, the blind, the prostitutes, the drunkards, the tax collectors, the sinners, the outsiders, the foreigners.  It’s demonstrably those on the inside and the top who crucify him: elders, chief priests, teachers of the Law, scribes, and Roman occupiers.  

Rohr goes on to emphasize the importance of perspective, saying that Western Christians “fail to appreciate liberation theology” thanks to so many years of seeing the Scriptures through the lens of empowered clergy class rather than the marginalized.  He reminds us that for the first 300 years after Jesus, Christianity was a religion of the oppressed.  And, this isn’t just a historical observation; it’s a reflection of the heart of God.  Over and over and over again, Jesus points us to the least.  As Dorothy Day puts it, we must live at the bottom.  

White Privilege

For several months now, I’ve been meeting with a group of white women, as we study racism and our own white privilege; I recognize my life doesn’t lend itself to truly living with or loving the least.  For those who aren’t ready yet for a year-long study, there was a really good article from 2015, circulating yet again on MLK Day.  One line in it, where a white woman like myself discusses her own white privilege, says: Acknowledging privilege is not admitting to be a racist.

So, church…..can we grow-up enough to create safe spaces where conversations like the one Rachel recommended can happen?  If it can’t happen with us or in our sacred spaces, where do we think it can or will happen?  Can we shut-up and listen to learn, not to defend?  For, if other spaces do manage to facilitate those dialogues, what does that say of us?  Jesus will never be irrelevant but Christians….we can be.  Let’s not.  For God’s sake!

Meet Katharine, Dorothy and Mary

On Monday, I took my kids to see Hidden Figures.  This film introduces us to Katharine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan and Mary Jackson, three brilliant African-American women who were not just involved with but essential to the early milestones in our nation’s space program.  And, till now, their stories were unknown.  But, thanks to Hollywood, we finally get to learn about the obstacles they overcame to work at NASA.  Given my lifelong love of history and recent interest in learning about racism and African American heroes, this was a no-brainer.

But, I have a confession: my kids didn’t want to go.  I am so embarrassed to admit thisfullsizerender-11, but it’s the truth.  In the end, my eldest liked it.  My middle child said his favorite part was the end, when the rocket carrying John Glenn is launched.  And, my youngest (the happy-go-lucky one), spent most of the movie with his popcorn bucket over his head.  I kid you not.  (God knows how to keep me humble.)  But, I am trusting that after a lifetime of leaning into opportunities to learn, whether that’s walking around Angel Island and learning about the Chinese immigrants who first arrived in America or the ‘hidden figures’ essential to our early days of space exploration, there will be a net gain in deep understanding and true compassion.  Reality is that empathy isn’t automatic, which is why it can’t be option in my family.  This is a non-negotiable.  As Martin Luther King wrote:

Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection. . . . We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. 

Writer Judy Wu Dominick recently confessed on Facebook, how she’d come full circle from being an Obama detractor and critic to sincere supporter.  The turning point: when she switched to a more diverse church, one that was over 50% black.  Over time, her perspective and eventually her heart changed.  Our bubbles shape us more than we realize.

I have a dream…

Yesterday, I spoke to the Mothers Together group at Menlo Church.  It wasn’t my first time holding a microphone.  But, it was my first time teaching a large group in a religious setting.  All prior coaching and speaking was at universities or in corporate conference rooms and learning centers.  This year, I joined the teaching and missions teams, believing these were areas where I needed to stretch (you learn by doing)!  One of the passages I studied in preparing for this talk, came from the Book of Esther (credit to John Ortberg for his analysis and teaching on this book).  What’s amazing about this story, and what I shared with the ladies, is that the name of God is never uttered in Esther’s story.  As John puts it:

The writer (of Esther) wants you to know that even in exile…no Jerusalem, no temple, no Sanhedrin, far from home, surrounded by problems…God is right there. Even though in Esther’s story God’s name is never spoken, God’s heart is never absent. God’s arm is never missing. So don’t you give up. In your position, however important it may or may not look, however likely your success does or does not appear, whether you feel like your mission is going well or terrible, don’t you give up, because it’s God at work, not you.

So this is what I’m clinging to.  I’m not giving up.  I’m leaning into even those places and spaces that are awkward, even painful.  I’m believing miracles still happen but I’m not relying just on religious institutions or Christian forums.  Because, honestly, I think vast swaths are becoming holy huddles of privilege, be it economic, racial, educational, etc.  And, please know that I lump myself into that group!   But, as one mom shared during our Mothers Together gathering, be willing to do the little things….like, go to a playground across the railroad tracks or facilitate play dates with friends who may live on the other side of town.  Even though big strides are needed, little steps are far better than backward slides.  As the Franciscan prayer Sarah Bessey asks, may we be blessed with the anger, tears and foolishness.

So, my question isn’t whether you posted your favorite MLK quote on Monday….it’s fullsizerender-10whether you’re still talking about him and honoring his work today….just a few days later.  And, will you keep thinking and praying about how we the church can make his dream a reality?  Cause, here’s the thing…Dr King’s I Have A Dream speech is laden with inspiration borrowed rhetoric from the New and Old Testament.  The dream didn’t originate with Dr King….it originated with God.  It’s God’s dream. We know that this is the picture of heaven.  Frankly speaking, there will always be brokenness in this world.  But, God didn’t stop in Genesis.  He had a dream.  Why not be part of it now?