on life in lakeview, being hungry, jesus and the MDGs

i don't normally invite people in when i'm alone in the church. and i struggle with it because when i ask myself WWJD (what would jesus do) the answer is almost always--answer the door. but i'm not jesus. and i sometimes just don't feel safe. and the sad piece is that my resources are limited. so usually i refer people to the lakeview pantry, which is where i sent a lot of the money given to my discretionary fund.

so when the doorbell rang, i went to it expecting to send him away. but something caught my attention. and there was another person in the building, at least for a few more minutes.
"i'm hungry and i need to pray" he said. and i remembered that we had food waiting to be picked up by the lakeview pantry that i could give him. so i opened the door and invited him in.

we went to get some food--dry milk, peanut butter, instant mashed potatoes, canned beans--all the standards you think of when you think food pantry. he was so grateful--this cast off food, this stuff to which i snub my nose--he was so grateful. he kept thanking jesus for the blessing. and so i walked with him back to the door. but he stopped me. "can we pray?" he asked. how could i forget the most basic and the most important of his requests? "of course," i said and i led him to our chapel.

he gasped as he walked in. "it's so beautiful." i asked him what he wanted to pray for. he wanted to pray for his wife, who is in great pain. we sat and we prayed. i prayed some stuff out of the book of common prayer. i tried to lead us in the lord's prayer, figuring everyone knows that one, but he was silent. i prayed a few more prayers. as i got up he asked "can i stay here a little longer?" "of course," i said.

i went back into my office and looked up a few resources i thought would help him. i wrote them on orange post-it notes and went back into the chapel. i heard him, as he prayed, talking to jesus:
"lord, i know you say to take your yoke because it's easy. and i'm trying lord. but my burden is not easy. and i don't know how to bear it anymore, lord. please, take my burden."

i left him to pray. and pray he did. for a good 45 minutes. out loud. to god. lamenting and beseeching all the way. and then he was done. and he took the bag of food, the orange post it notes and gave me a hug, thanking me for all my help. and he went on his way.

today is the mid-way, the half way point of the Millennium Development Goals (MDG) goal--to meet the MDGs by 2015. the goals are to end poverty and hunger, achieve universal education, gender equality, reduce child mortality and improve maternal health, combat HIV/AIDS, ensure environmental stability and to develop a global partnership for development. a tall order, but one that is achievable. governments are asked to pledge (and follow through with the pledge!) 7/10ths of 1 percent of the GNP to the MDGs. with that small amount, the MDGs could be met. with that small amount, we could truly live into our baptismal promises to respect the dignity of every human being.

today i will pray and fast and write my elected officials and ask them to help meet this goal. and i'll do it because i pledged to do it. but i'll mainly do it because of that man who came to my door. in hopes that my prayer will rise with his. that his yoke and burden will lighten. today i do this because of that man who came to my door. the man who reminded me of all that i have. the man who reminded me of the Good News that Jesus came to proclaim and that we are all called to share.

tax collectors and prostitutes

i'm working on my sermon for sunday. the text is from matthew's gospel, in which jesus is questioned by the chief priests and asked about his authority. i admit i hear jesus saying, in cartman from south park's voice, "do not question my au-thor-it-i!" of course that's not what jesus says. rather he asks them to engage with him, to be in conversation, to discuss with him their concerns. they won't do it. they are afraid of the crowds. they are afraid of him, i think. and jesus basically says: i won't play. i won't play into a trap. more over, i won't give you a sound bite. if you want to talk about my authority, you must be in relationship with me.

of course, jesus likes to talk, so he goes on to tell a parable:

there are 2 brothers. papa comes and asks them to go to work in the vineyard. the first son (the slacker) tells his father no but then changes his mind and goes anyway. the second (the kiss up!) say "sure! i'll go!" and then fails to go. jesus asks: which son has done the father's will and they all answer that the first son has. then jesus gives the line: truly i tell you, the tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of god ahead of you.

what does it mean for the prostitutes and tax collectors to go ahead into the kingdom? for those of us with plenty, for those of us who have, at what cost are we willing to ignore the good news? because the good news is that all are called to be in the kingdom. all. the poor, the down trodden, the rich and beautiful, the ugly and poor, the straight, the gay and all those in between, the prostitutes and tax collectors and the priests and those whose piety has never been called into question. all are offered a place in the kingdom. and the most outcast, the most despised, the ones who are seen as the most sinful, the most repulsive--these are the ones being offered a place first.

i think the truth, at least for me, if i'm honest, is that i imagine a kingdom filled with people kinda like me. i mean i know they'll be other folks welcomed too, but my scope of understanding, my ability to see, to comprehend is, frankly, limited. and so i can only imagine so much of a kingdom. but jesus calls us to recognize that which those who heard john the baptist saw: the call to true repentance, the call to prepare the way for jesus. and the prostitutes and tax collectors lead the way.

emailing with mom

so my mom sent me a forwarded email today and asked my opinion as she was feeling mixed. the email, being forwarded around, suggests making a donation to planned parenthood in sarah palin's name and then sending them her address (the campaign address) so that she can get a sense of how much has been given in her name.

okay. funny. really funny. i giggled. but it also bugged me. mom and i emailed back and forth and finally i came to the reason it bugs me. which is what follows:

a few months ago, i went to the preaching conference in minneapolis, one of the speakers reminded us that what happens in this election is not important. what is important is truly transforming the world. what is important is what happens at our local level--that we continue to feed the poor, to seek out injustice and put an end to it, that we continue to be mindful of the needs of this world. and i agreed. and i do agree.

and yet, i do think this election is incredibly important because the mccain palin ticket, at least to my understanding, advocates some anti-christian values--today's gospel lesson, "the first shall be last and the last shall be first" call their very way of thinking into question. i mean, as christians can we continue to pay taxes when the firsts get bailed out and the lasts remain last. (thanks to aaron for that thought!) to what/who is our allegiance? when does the laborer in the vineyard who arrived last taken care of? how do we, as a nation, understand ourselves in the greater context of our starving brothers and sisters in africa? and while i am pro-choice (and i realize this is an oxymoron for many), i very much value life and find it most disturbing that mccain & palin don't seem to carry those same values as they advocate for the death penalty and the war.

so it matters and it doesn't. of course i hope obama wins. i think it's a better choice for the nation, for the world. the obama/biden ticket carries more of the concerns of the christian values to which i aspire and ascribe. but not all of them. and even if obama wins, it won't change it all. it won't perfect this broken nation, this broken world. only god can do that and god needs our help to make it happen. we can do that by going out and raising our voices and saying no to injustice, to making no peace with oppression. only then will the ridiculousness of the inequity and hatred of this world begin to dissipate. only then will the world begin to be reconciled and will we begin to look like the kingdom of god to which we are called to be.

end rant.

homesweethome

yesterday was a day i had, at once, been dreading and looking forward to. it was the start of our annual book sale. this is a major fund raiser for the church and it' s also pretty cool event in and of itself because people come in, see the place and meet some of our friendly folk. of course, yesterday was a bit...um...wet. usually the sale is outside, but given that we're enjoying the heaviest rainfall in chicago history, we moved the sale inside.  i did, in all seriousness, have someone who called to ask if the sale was inside or outside. i had the urge to say "why outside, of course" and then begin to quack. but i was a good priest and simply said "inside." 

so on top of this big event (and it really is a big event), there was a wedding. which meant a quick turn around--breaking down the day one sale and getting the place cleaned before the bridal party arrived. it worked. of course the couple, who i just adore, had planned to have all their pictures shot on wrigley field before the wedding. a world of that didn't happen, what with the floods and nonstop downpour. so they waited, in the wings, killing time, for many, many hours. the groom told me he used communion wafers for chips in their poker game (he was joking! he was joking!). 

the wedding was fun--just like the couple. and the book sale, while smaller in sales due to the flooding rains, was also a great success. 

all to say that i began work at 6 AM yesterday and got home at 9:30 and was exhausted. good exhausted, but exhausted. and today the whole thing happened again today. so here am i, finally home. buffy's on. windows open, safe under piles of blankets, the really obnoxious band playing loudly across the street. i know i need to start packing for the move, now 14 days away, but it's not happening tonight. My kingdom for a pizza. That might just happen tonight....

waiting...mothering

i didn't hear the phone ring. at a party, a few drinks, a lot of laughter. walking home the beeping catches my attention. the message short and too the point: my son has been shot. please come to the hospital. shit. these are the reasons we have cell phones, to get these calls. fuck. the kid has been shot. the sweet, 13 year old boy who acolytes and plays baseball and lives the ghetto and tries to keep his nose clean amidst the world around him.

i drive the car, despite the wine, to the hospital. enough time passed and nothing sobers like the words gun shot. children's hospital, filled with computer games and big screen tvs, enough to think that it was a hotel, if not for the IVs and the gaping hole in his thigh.

in the room stands his mother, who had, on more than one occasion, screamed at me for not buying a bus pass or not bringing the right groceries...this night, without words, we made peace. she had come, straight from work, on the bus, not knowing if he was dead or alive, having to sit through 3 transfers and waiting for delayed buses to bring her to this part of town. she smells of work and anger and anxiety. she yells on the cell phone, her normal tone, and barks orders to her other 3 children.

i need to change. i smell, she says
i'll wait, i reply.

and so she leaves. my waiting, a gift to her. my waiting, her gift of trust to me.

he talks on the phone. and sometimes stops to tell me stories. no tears, no fear, he promises, sometimes couching it in god language.

does it hurt? i ask.
nah. i can take it, he says.

after 11 he tries to sleep but keeps the light on until the nurse comes in, florescent bulbs bright against the dried red blood of on his brown skin. she dims the lights, the glow of the side lights, and the blue television screen illuminated with visions of fish in a fish tank, the most peaceful screen saver i can find. i watch the fish float by and gaze at him from time to time, his eyelids heavy.

you awake sarah? he asks.
sure am, i say and he closes his eyes.

his mother returns 3 hours later, smelling of beer and calgon.

i asked the neighbor for some liquor, but all they had was beer she tells me. then i took me a long bubble bath.

i think of my mother and know that she would've never left, let alone basked in a bubble bath had half the fate been bestowed on me. another highlight of our different worlds.

you didn't have to wait she says.
i know. i lie.

i say a prayer over his sleeping face, the breathing heavy, the face innocent of the days trauma. i anoint his head with oil more for me than for him and drive the car home to try and sleep.

my new mantra

i will not engage trolls on my friend's blogs. i will not. i will not.
just say no...to trolls.

open letter to sarah palin

i wish i could've written this! a brilliant letter and explanation of what community organizing is all about. this is an open letter to sarah palin.

thank you, i are a writer and jon stewart, for your ministries!

i watch the daily show most days and am grateful, but what jon stewart did during the RNC was nothing short of providing a place of solace and relief for weary souls like me, tired of people just being mean (yeah, i'm talking about you, rudy and sarah). like many of my friends, i give thanks to God for the ministry of Jon Stewart. thanks to iareawriter who had this clip on her blog, which i have, with great joy stolen. it's worth your time if you haven't seen it.

i want to ride my bicycle!

i have a new (to me) bicycle! i bought it from the Recyclery, which is this really cool, non-profit that sells used bikes and then takes the profits and creates good things out of them. i went to their bike sale and was lucky enough to actually get a bike (there are always more people than bikes, so most folks go home empty handed). and it's a pretty good bike (according to the bike gurus who went with me to buy it). and it's red!!!!

so yesterday i took it out for a spin. one of my favorite things about this city is that it has a bike path all along the lake. so as you ride, not only do you get the lake breeze, but you also get to look at the lake, which is beautiful.

the weather has turned to fall crisp-ness, although the leaves are still very green. it's a beautiful day out, which makes it really challenging to want ot sit and write a sermon! the lections are challenging as well. the Exodus lesson, in particular. some of my current questions: if the first born was struck down, why did Pharoh live? i mean, the story wouldn't work if Pharoh's son hadn't died, and if he hadn't experienced that grief, granting a momentary reprieve. so that's one question. the other (and i should add these are both questions that a friend asked, not me, but now i am wondering...) question is this: what would God have done next. if it hadn't worked (and ultimately Pharoah changed his mind, but for the point of story, they had enough time to get away, so it did sort of work). but what was the next plague? they got progressively worse and this was the worst, right? except that annoying wondering of what would've happened next? to what lenghths would God go in order to protect the captive, to set them free? and then i always wonder...jumping ahead to the parting of the Red Sea...did God weep over those Egyptians who were drowned when the waters came crashing down? As much as I love the Song of Miram, I also hate it, because as the Israelites rejoice over their freedom, Egyptians are weeping over the loss of their first born and the soldiers who drowned.

I understand these stories. That they teach us about the nature of God, about how God cares about the setting free of the captive and oppressed. Maybe I just understand it a little better, a little more clearly in the language of Jesus, where points are made by eating with sinners and tax collectors. Of course, the passover in Exodus leads us right to the passover of Jesus. And I don't know if the death of Jesus, the passover Lamb, can be fully understood without the Exodus story.

update on random things

so just an update. i'm moving on sept 30 and oct 1. i'm moving a whopping 1.1 miles from a 2 bedroom lovely treehouse apartment into a t-incy, tiny, itty-bitty apartment that's much closer to the church. this move will save me a significant chunk of change and while i'm anxious about the smaller space, i am thrilled to have a bit more wiggle room in my budget and to be closer to the church is just a bonus. what sucks is the packing and moving part. which needs to begin sooner rather than later, but all in good time, i guess. my step-pappy is coming up for a week to help out and so are my fab 20/30s from the church (they're coming for a day, not a week!), so i've got help.

my landlord is driving me crazy. chicago law clearly states that i'm supposed to get 24-48 hours notice before he enters my apartment. on saturday i got one hour and fifty minutes before he showed it. there's just something creepy about people you don't know walking around, rooting through your closet, your fridge (i know cause that's what i do when i look at apartments!). it has to be done, i get that, but it drives me a bit crazy. i just got another email saying he's showing it tonight. i'm going to try to swing by the house to pick up a bit, but i figure, at this point, it's not my problem. if he's going to show it without giving me sufficient notice, i'm not going to worry about hair in the sink and my unvaccummed rug. my father always said to leave a place nicer than you found it. great idea, but that gene didn't get passed on to me. i'm messy. always have been. i try to change but it's just a struggle.

so do i blog about this? i don't know. i may go back and delete this later. i'm on my 4th week of weight watchers. it's like the gazillionth time i've done it,but it feels really different this time. i'm going to meetings with two of my besties in chicago, two of the women from my writing group. we make for a funny trio, because C is totally there but not at all about the WW swag (like the 10% keychain, which i COVET) and the gold stars. A is the WW cheerleader. I mean cheer-leader. She collects gold stars like a squirrel collecting acorns. and her hand goes up in the air all the time with ideas and suggestions. C & I totally giggle because we're both such cynics and she's such an optimist. and we both love it. being in her joyful presence (and inspiring as she just lost 10% of her body weight and looks AMAZING) is truly fun. so here's what's different for me--aside from the fact that i have an amazing shrink, who's been working with me on the head game associated with my weight, this go around i've decided to not be a cynic. do i know all this stuff already--of course i do. but i've decided this time to quit acting like a know-it-all, above-it-all, superior being and to just embrace the damn thing. i read over the weekly pamphlets like they are the newest gospel. i enter my points on the computer with a freakish regularity. i read the inspirational stories and sometimes they make me teary. i use the recipes. my frined A reminds me that last week i had my hand up 4 times in the meeting, even calling myself a "water slut." yep, i've joined the cult. and it's working. i've lost weight every week (sure, a lot of it's water weight, but i don't care--i'm getting gold stars!!). so, we'll see. as a complete and shameless plug--if you haven't had Fiber One chocolate and oat bars whilst drinking a cup of coffee, you're missing out on one of life's great pleasures.

so that's the news from the land of the caffeinated priest. hope all is well where you are!