In the first place, if you know me even casually you will know my dismay, if not downright disdain, when I am in almost any circumstance that involves sappy praise songs. (I particularly become bitter when we have to stand, swaying and clapping, for 15 excruciating minutes, then sit down to sing the same song some more. But that’s a whole other blog entry, isn’t it?). This was certainly, if not the last place then pretty close to the last... Read more
I’m surprised by my feelings, since I have years of experience dealing with this very thing. My experience, of course, comes from growing up in the same family system as my sister, Maile, who was then very popular, captain of the cheerleading squad and homecoming queen and is now gorgeous, mother of 4 children whom she homeschools, and devoted wife who makes her husband’s lunch every morning. For years I have wanted to hate her, or at least live with... Read more
You know, sometimes the best thing you can say is, “who cares?” One of my nagging problems is that I seem to care too much, mostly about stupid things, like whether or not my children are eating enough vegetables or, alternatively, whether everyone is happy about everything all the time. You know I have about as much control over the first issue as I do the second. I know the world needs compulsive worrywarts like myself (at least that’s what I... Read more
I gave up the dream of my children bragging about me on the playground long ago. When I decided to go to seminary I already knew what it felt like when your parent is the preacher because when I was in high school I was a friend of the pastor’s daughter. She would beg us to please NEVER mention in public what her Dad did for a living. Like, she cried about his job. I never could quite understand this,... Read more
I can hardly bear to write about this, preferring, I suppose, to live in the delusion that if it doesn’t appear on the blog then it’s not real. (Please–we all have our ways of coping.) Alas, as the clock ticks toward June it’s becoming more and more real: the call of God is causing problems. Again. I admit that I have spent a large portion of my life following this elusive thing everybody has labeled “God’s call on your life.” It has... Read more
It was poet/writer Wendell Berry who coined the phrase “practice resurrection.” He used it, in fact, in his poem, Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front. Though I am not an expert in literature, especially poetry, it seems to me that Berry meant to say two things in this masterful poem: first, resurrection is not an event we remember once a year on Easter morning. If it really means anything we’ve got to somehow learn to live it. And second, practicing... Read more
In the godforsaken, obscene quicksand of life, there is a deafening alleluia rising from the souls of those who weep, and of those who weep with those who weep. If you watch, you will see the hand of God putting the stars back in their skies one by one. Ann Weems, Psalms of Lament Read more
It has begun. Holy Week, you see, never seems very holy to me. At least not holy in the “sit quietly and contemplate the presence of God” kind of holy. What I mean is, while I usually do exclaim “Oh Holy God!” a lot this week of the year, it is (I’m sorry to say) usually not in the context of thoughtful worship. There’s just too much going on this week. Services to plan, meals to prepare, meetings to attend,... Read more
My colleague Paul has been on my case more than usual lately because I’ve fallen down on the job of keeping everyone up to date on the progress of our new house. In my defense, we just moved in three weeks ago, and when I say “moved in” I mean that we now sleep here. There are many, many boxes still to be unpacked. In the middle of all the chaos, however, our amazing architects wanted to take some professional... Read more
peace comes stealing slow falls like silent snow swings down sweet and low peace comes stealing slow Kate Campbell sings these words her album Blues and Lamentations. Kate has this amazing voice that articulates with such clarity the beauty of these words, which I heard somewhere were inspired by a poem of William Butler Yeats. However, as my study of Yeats’ poetry has not been too, shall we say, extensive, I have no idea if this is true. But I... Read more
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