My short rant

Some say that women have full equality, and are just “playing the gender card”. But women are not equal

n  While many more baby girls are killed by selective abortion and infanticide

n  While women can’t go out alone at night for fear of sexual assault

n  While the physical signs of aging are not treated with the same social respect in women as they are in men

n  While many kinds of religious leaders regard women as spiritually inferior

n  While a woman’s protests against injustice are dismissed as ‘emotionalism’ or ‘that time of the month’

n  While a woman’s experience in raising children is treated negatively in the workforce

n  While many parts of the world do not think that women need much education

A just society starts with each individual choosing to live justly and oppose injustice

Patriarchy?

Most of you who know me already know that I am a Christian egalitarian. I respect my complementarian brothers and sisters, but disagree with their interpretation of scripture. However, when it comes to hyper patriarchy, I actually believe that it's something different from a variant nuance of interpretation.Excuse the strength of my language, but I really believe that "religion" that relegates women to being mere appendages of men, something less than fully human in their own right, is ultimately evil. This is what I wrote as a comment on another blog:

Y’know, re:#299, I actually believe that patriarchy is a religion, a false religion that goes right back to the fall and is demonic in origin. “Your desire shall be for your husband and he shall rule over you” — it’s a prediction of the grief which is to come. God created woman to be not just man’s ezer (help) but his ezer kenegedo — one who is an exact counterpart, standing side by side with him to build a kingdom of love and light. But it didn’t last

She who was to be by his side is now put under his thumb, and the richness they could give to one another is despised and disparaged. Power and control is worshipped, and man makes gods in his own image, instead of conforming to the image of God. He no longer wants a strong partner, he wants a child-wife, and every perversion follows, as lust becomes conjoined with the lust for power. He no longer trusts woman, so he has to defeat her. Wives and children are pawns in this game of power and dominion. Love grows cold and is replaced by the rage of the chronically insecure.

I actually believe that when Christians embrace patriarchy it is just as much syncretism as when Israel of old tried to worship both Baal and Yahweh. The Kingdom of God is not about who is the greatest, but about who is willing to serve.And it isn’t one morality for males and a different one for females. There aren’t pink and blue fruit of the Spirit.

This false religion is pernicious, and has tempted the human race right through history. The old religions worshipped phallic symbols as the ultimate expressions of god-like power — has anything changed?
“And I will set enmity between you (Satan) and the woman ..”

Authentein

Authentein is the Greek word used in 1 Tim 2:12 where Paul says that he does not allow a woman to "exercise authority" over a man. That is the traditional translation, others take the word to mean "domineer" or "usurp authority" or some other word denoting autocratic and illegitimate authority -- something no Christian should exercise! A friend and I were checking out the word today in my Logos Bible programme which he finally got working for me (long story, but blessed be he!)and were stunned by the bias and dismissal shown in some of the references -- especially considering how this potentially impacts 50% of the population! So I turned my indignation into a poem ..

AUTHENTEIN

Pull the drawstrings tight
Around your carefully garnered authority
Lest you spill it on the ground
Irreclaimably.

Keep them in their place,
Infantilised,
Not responsible for anything,
Except somehow, in their weakness,
The sin of all the world.

Oh contain the She!

Never face to face
Limb to limb
Part and counterpart,
Heirs together of glory.

Give her fine words
But not the one that matters.
Equality in the realms of philosophy,
Fantasies of fair meaning,
But guard your dictionaries well,
Lest she dream of standing beside you.

I do not know this God,
Lord of the hidebound lexicon,
Who would take one half of the parable of being
And treat it with despite.
Is your Grand Order
His true, most holy cause?

We must have regard for our sisters,
For the ones slain by a word,
Taught by the phallocentric
To move shame-faced through the world.

Go hoard and strut your primacy while we
Stand bare-head in the rain, receiving His anointing.

Letter to my Blog

Dear Little Blog,

Sorry it’s been a while since I talked to you. Please don’t think I don’t love you any more.
But sometimes I’m busy, and sometimes .. well .. old friends should have room for contented silence in their conversation, shouldn’t they? I don’t want to bore you, so, when I have nothing to say, I say nothing. But life’s been happening, and it’s probably time we had a little chat.

** The US election: even on holidays we turned on the tv in time to get the candidates’ speeches, and were very moved by them. Aussie politicians could learn a few lessons from these guys. At the risk of alienating all my American friends, I have to admit that I’m glad Obama won. Things look different from the other side of the world – over here we’re a lot less concerned with America’s domestic policies (and can’t see what’s wrong with things like universal health care – we have had it for over 30 years) and a lot more concerned with having an American neighbour whose foreign policies make sense to us. And I admit that I was crying at the sight of the faces of black Americans, faces shining in wonder because they had never believed this could happen in their lifetime. Whether americans want their friendship or not, it’s a simple fact that many other countries will feel friendlier towards America because she has a black president. As to how well he’ll perform – to be honest I haven’t the foggiest idea – but I do know that sometimes symbols can count for more than empty rhetoric.

** Holidays: Alastair and I went away for a week to Mudgee (central western NSW, wine growing and general tourist area,) The place we stayed at was lovely – 10 minutes out of town, a set of cottages on the brow of a hill. From our cottage verandah we looked over 50 metres or so of lawn, studded with trees, then a little lake, then about 200 metres of vineyard back to the main road. Idyllic, especially as we had the place to ourselves, even the owners were away. Mornings and evenings the big grey kangaroos would come down from the bush at the back of the property to graze on the lawn, and currawongs and little blue wrens flew in and out of the trees. We went to several vineyards, but really, two or three in a week were enough for us. Craft galleries, national parks (including an amazing place called Dunn’s swamp, where bright red bottle brush (Callistemon) were in flower along the water’s edge) and the historic old town of Gulgong, where there is a museum dedicated to Henry Lawson, a rather tragic Australian literary figure, who was born there on the goldfields.

**Sickness: So I went and got bronchitis on holidays. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but at least being married to a doctor sometimes pays off – I was able to get a prescription for antibiotics as soon as I recognised what was happening to me, so I never got really sick. Then I go to the doctor today for my 6 month checkup and get told I’m anaemic (at my age!!) so I have to get on the iron tablets ..

Birthdays: end of October, beginning of November is birthday season round here. Beginning with my special day (Oct 28), then my FIL is November 7 (he just turned 88), my DIL is Nov 9, and my son is Nov 11 (he just turned 29) So that has taken some time and energy as well (and a very nice family dinner at a restaurant with views of the dock area of Sydney harbour). Oh, and what did I get for my birthday? What I wanted, of course –a compact digital camera with 10x zoom .. fantastic for photographing birds and flowers ..

My Masters: just before we went away I got a letter from UTS to say my application for my masters has been approved (exciting but scary) So I had a heap of paperwork to get organised. What am I doing? A Masters in Adult Education – this one is specially geared for people who’s undergraduate degree was in other fields (not education) but who want to learn better ways to teach and train in their own discipline. Of course, I would have liked to do my Masters in Theology, but as a woman in the church here, there would be absolutely nothing I could do with it. This degree will open doors rather than closing them.

The internet: Another reason I haven’t blogged is that our internet has been subject to a lot of intermittent drop outs, often for hours at a time. Finally they sent us a technician yesterday and he found some corrosion at the junction of our cable internet with the street. Changing those connections seems to have fixed the problem

Well, I’m sure there’s lots more, like the sermon I have to prepare for Sunday (the first I’ve had to do for months), church matters etc etc,but hey, at least we’re speaking again. Now I just hope, dear blog, that you will be generous and forgiving and speak back to me and not get all huffy

Bye for now
Lynne

Hymn

With the issue of women in the church very much on my mind lately, I wrote this. it would fit traditional hymn tunes, like "The Church's One Foundation .." I think perhaps it needs a concluding verse, but my mind went blank at that point

O Lord of earth and heaven
We lift our prayers to you
We would be your disciples
In everything we do
The brokenness from Eden
Has left us sore oppressed
Then Lord make haste to help us
And give your daughters rest.

O Christ our sure Redeemer
Who has made all things new
Give love and grace and wisdom
To all who follow you
Who conquered death and hades
From all sin’s curse set free
Grant us to serve together
In our entirety.

O Spirit of the Highest
Who blesses from above
With your anointing power
And your indwelling love,
Your gifts you shower freely
That we may all proclaim
As blessed sons and daughters
The glories of your name.

Eternal Subordination of women?

Over at Suzanne's Bookshelf, there's a discussion about a CBMW paper which suggests that wives will still be subordinate to their husbands in Heaven. Quite apart from the fact that this directly contradicts Jesus' words about the woman who had had 7 husbands, it is a terrible sentence to pass on abused and struggling women. This is what I wrote:

I shall not be your plaything forever
Or the mat on which you wipe your feet.

I servant willingly,
Having another master,
And bondslave to His glory.
Here I am whole
In the place of his calling, becoming
Everything I am in Him
Stretched into authority
Fashioned by His love
His precious poiema forever.

Not for the glory of your ego
Did He shed His blood for me.
For the Kingdom of Heaven is greater
Than the petty realms of men
And He calls His sons and daughters
To reign with Him forever.

There you no longer own me.
Stamped with His Name and His glory,
I shall stand, wearing His beauty:
And your mean rules die away,
In the freedom of His joy.

Superpower

Question:
If you could have one superpower, what would it be?

Answer:
Well, let's think of some possibilities --
X-ray vision might be fun .. but I'd hate to see through everyone's clothes. most of us wear them for a reason.

Flying? All my best dreams involved being gravity defying, but in real life there wouldn't be so much point. Besides, I'd keep bumping my head on the ceiling!

Invisibility? There have been times in my life when I felt invisible. It wasn't much fun.

Cleaning things up with a click of my fingers, a la Mary Poppins? well, yep, that would be useful. But I sure don't want the big thing in my life to be about housework!

You know what I would choose?
To really, really understand people .. to be able to get inside their hearts and really know what they're feeling and why, and, even more, to understand enough how to speak words of real healing into their lives...

What would you choose? Something I haven't even thought of?

Something to think about

h/t telling secrets
I think this is something that challenges us all.

To the Narcissist ..

Back to the theme of poems on abuse, this is about the emotional abuse suffered in relationship to a narcissist. It is a subtle kind of abuse, the gradual undermining of the victim's selfhood (a victim probably already insecure in her sense of self because some form of lack of parental affirmation). One day she wakes up and realises that while Narcissus was glorifying his own self-image, he did so at her expense, parasitically taking from her (all in the name of "love") until she is faded away to just an echo. By then she may not have enough sense of self left to know how to get disentangled.

You are the thornbush, I the clinging vine.
You are the thirst, and I the water poured.
You are the trophy, I the polish cloth
You are the desert, I the empty gourd.

You are Important – ah! So neat, so sleek!
I am the lower case, the little vowel,
You are the lion that struts the sunlit plain,
I mourn in darkness, like some faint-voiced owl.

You are supreme, complete, you have no want
Save adoration, faint praise brings your wrath.
I am the audience and you the star.
You are the trophy, I the polish-cloth.

You are the grinding heel, and I the clay
Waiting to bear your print, I have no form.
Unfit to carry meaning, I must yield,
Since I am aberration, you are norm.

Miracles for Sale!

Now, it happens that I do believe in the continuation of the miraculous gifts, but I don ot believe that everything that claims to be revival and miracle working is anything of the sort. Simon magus thought he could buy the gifts of the Spirit for coin; his spiritual descendants want to use the power of God (or the appearance of it)to make money. There are so many directions from which wolves seek to prey upon the flock ..

The huckster’s voices clamour loud
Sales’ pitches batter at your mind
“Step up! Step up!” they urge the crowd,
“This sweet prosperity to find!”

The crowds toil by with laden hearts,
Fragmented dreams, defeated eyes;
Their longings have so many parts
And every day their courage dies.

“Step up! Step up! Take hold! Take hold!”
The barkers with their megaphones
Offer the gift that can’t be sold
Proffer the power no one owns.

“See here, I have it – the one thing
Needful!” Raw power tints the air.
The hype, the money, everything:
For healing’s now a fairground ware.

We need some tinny organ tone
While the slick talker works the crowd
And dollars flash and angels groan
And prophet’s profits laugh aloud.

The weak, the poor the lame the sick:
Christ Jesus gave them all His heart
But now, for well-hooked promise slick,
The needy from their coin must part.

And faith joins hands with fantasy –
A mind game and a great pretence,
The hypnotist’s false ecstasy,
The disappointment too intense.

They travel over land and sea
To make one “convert” twice as bad.
Whilst those of anxious piety
Can scarce acknowledge they’ve been had

World Youth Day!

This week is World Youth Day in Sydney, with Catholic pilgrims from all over the world pouring into Sydney for special events with the pope. It’s all a bit bemusing for the non-Catholic rest of us and, to be honest, I haven’t tried to keep up with it. Since it’s all being held in the inner city, and I rarely go near the city in business hours (going to the theatre, galleries, museums etc at other times is something I’m always keen to do), and my husband’s practice is in the leafy streets of outer suburbia, it hasn’t really touched us at all. But it does put Catholicism on the front page.

Now I don’t want to get into all the old arguments about Catholic/Protestant doctrinal differences. I grew up with that. My grandmother, an ardently low church Anglican, made me promise when I was a little girl (about 7 or 8) that I would never marry a catholic. Well, I married a Presbyterian, so I guess that was ok. And credit where credit is due: I think the Catholics beat us hands down when it comes to pastoral theology, and reverence and such. But I still think most of those Catholic distinctives are wrong: praying to saints, the cult of virginity, Mary as co-redemptrix, purgatory, indulgences, transubstantiation, And I’ve read the Council of Trent documents on justification, in fact did my major tut paper on them, and felt the doctrine was very muddled, and based on premises that are simply not biblical. But there’s a couple of other aspects of Catholicism I would like to address.

One of the things that strikes me about the whole culture of Catholicism is how very paternalistic it is. Now some people may like that, I’ve lived long enough to know that some people thrive under authoritarian systems and find their security there. I guess I haven’t lived long enough to understand those feelings. I don’t want to spend my life sitting back in blissful ignorance while someone else does the thinking for me; I’m a questioner by nature (though I do try hard not rock other people’s boats with my wonderings) and I’m never happy about something till I’ve figured it out for myself. And the thought of calling my minister “Father” (which Jesus expressly said we were not to do) really troubles me, let alone thinking of the pope as Il Papa. God is my father, the imagery of the church should be feminine, and I’m uncomfortable with the implied patriarchy of the Catholic usage.

Which leads straight to my second point, which is my bottom line for “why I could never be a Catholic” It’s the issue of authority. I simply cannot conceive just taking church tradition (or recent rulings, e.g. contraception) on board without deciding for myself what I thought. No man, whatever line of apostolic succession lies behind him, has that sort of claim on my conscience. The Word of God (because He authoritatively speaks through it) has that sort of claim on my life, the Holy Spirit is promised to me to guide me into all truth. I am not discarding tradition willy-nilly, anyone who thinks they have invented all the truth for themselves is just being silly and presumptuous, but while we listen to and weigh the words of those who are our elders in the faith, we very soon discover that there is much on which they do not speak in unison. We ponder their wisdom, we prayerfully consider the scriptures, and then we decide for ourselves. And along the way we may well change our minds about some things – certainly I don’t believe exactly what I believed when I was 20. And some of the things I still have the same opinion about, I believe for different reasons. That’s ok. It’s called growth, and as long as it doesn’t involve discarding the heart of the gospel, it’s probably a good thing. But if I don’t always agree with myself  the chances of my agreeing with the magisterium are even slimmer!

I want to dance ..

This started out as a piece of lyric frivolity -- and then I realised it wasn't quite so frivolous after all ..

I want to dance, within your arms,
Across the mountains of the moon
Be unconstrained by gravities
(For morning always comes too soon.)

I want to laugh in polka dots
And see the star-clouds scurry by
To taste the flavour of the Spring
In winter’s final lullaby.

I want to be where hearts are whole
Where sorrow’s tearing teeth are stilled
Where tears are wiped and death is dead
And every promise is fulfilled.

I want to walk the sunset’s rays
The day that brighter light shall shine
Soar to salute a world new-made
And drown in Love more rich than wine.

Femininity

I am a woman. I am not a woman because I wear certain clothes or take up certain social roles, I am a woman because I am a woman. This is biological, God-given fact. I have two X chromosomes, and all the normal physical consequences. I have borne children. I do not have to do some particular things to become feminine, I am feminine by definition, because I am a woman. When I read particular complementarian (or worse, patriarchal) blogs and articles, I am bemused and confused by their definitions of femininity. They seem to me to have a lot more to do with a particular, idealised cultural image (was it ever REALLY like that?) than with anything explicitly biblical.

I am a woman, but first I am a person: a redeemed sinner, a blood-bought child of God. His calling on my life is to pursue godliness: to honour Christ in every way. Godliness is not one thing for men and another thing for women, we are all called to be obedient, to be prayerful, to walk in step with the Spirit and exhibit the fruit of the Spirit. Love, joy, peace, patience etc are not divided up, with some of them for men and some of them for women. Nowhere do I see a command to pursue femininity, but many to pursue Christ.

Some of my characteristics and behaviours fit certain definitions of “femininity”, some do not. So what? I was a stay at home mum to be there for my kids, but I think I missed out on the “nesting” gene .. I would rather read a book or write a poem than have the neatest house around. I wear skirts in summer and trousers in winter (comfort and convenience come first). I wear make up. I like to keep my hair between chin and shoulder length, I don’t feel like me if it’s any shorter. I NEVER wear high heels (they hurt my back) and I detest pantyhose. But I like to wear pretty colours (especially purples). I enjoy wearing jewellery. I hate expensive designer fashion, and most of it doesn’t suit me or my personal style anyway.
I can cook reasonably well. I can’t sew if my life depended on it, and ditto for handcrafts. I’ve yet to work out why people even WANT to do handcrafts. I missed out on that gene too. I can enjoy a morning of girl-shopping with my daughter, and I got tremendous satisfaction out of my Greek and Hebrew classes, in both of which I was the only female. I have a good sense of colour, my spatial sense is abysmal. I hate action movies, screen violence repels me, I have almost as little time for formulaic Hollywood romance, probably because I don’t believe it. I’m a verbal person, but I’m not afraid of silence. I am calm and laid back, and never believed I had to micro-manage my children’s lives. (Incidentally, my two kids have grown up to be very organised people – I claim no credit, and they’d laugh at me if I did) I never bother with diaries or to do lists, but I’m punctual to a fault. I can’t open jars but I can kill cockroaches. I have male friends and female friends. I have never had the least desire to be a guy (I LIKE being a girl) but I have been deeply hurt by misogyny and gender injustice.

Am I feminine? Do you know, I don’t really care. I am a person who happens to be a woman. Because I am a woman, what I do is feminine by definition. I don’t care for a gender separated world, with a male sphere of existence and a female sphere of existence. That has always seemed to me a form of apartheid. Every aspect of life is richer if male and female can work in harmony together. The gender wars are a product of the fall. Hierarchical relationships are a product of the fall. The Kingdom of God is about serving and blessing one another, with whatever gifts we have. Our maleness or femaleness is just one aspect of that.

wifely submission

and here is another post I wrote on the same forum, commenting on the view that a wife's submission means she is to give up on her own hopes and dreams and only have her husband's hopes and dreams (I question whether, long term, that is even truly possible except by massive repression), I said:

There are several problems with the traditional assumptions, apart from it being a grand invitation to abuse (all good things can be abused, so we always have to tread carefully around that one)

** it is an invitation to idolatry, calling the wife to put her husband in the place that belongs solely to God

** It ultimately makes the husband mediator between God and his wife -- usurping the place that belongs only to Christ

** by creating a male-only 'priesthood' within the home, it denies the priesthood of all believers

** the wife becomes the husband's servant/employee/inferior instead of his true counterpart

** it denies any concept of the wife having any gifts, abilities, insights to be used in the Kingdom. Did all those parables about talents and service to the kingdom etc rerally only apply to half the human race?

Ultimately, while it sounds very spiritual, it does nothing for the sanctification of either husband and wife. The one is delivered from accountability, the other is stripped from true moral responsibility ..

Sometimes it's hard to wrestle through the fog of all this stuff, especially when you still carry some of those hierarchalist (is there such a word?) guilt trips inside your head ..

Her desire ..

On another forum, I just wrote something on the subject of Genesis 3:16 "your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you" Some traditionalists advocate that the woman's desire here is the desire to dominate her husband; I actually believe it's the opposite. This is what I said:

I agree (in fact i wrote an essay for college on this very subject once. I believe this is simply a prophetic description of what takes place in a fallen humanity that is no longer God-centred -- as a generalisation, men build their sense of security by being dominant and controlling, women are more inclined (and remember these are generalisations) to become co-dependent (= idolatrous) towards their husbands. Hence patriarchy, CBMW etc etc (there are many shades) -- it's a system that slots straight into our fallenness. It also explains why so many women are willing to ride on the patriarchal bandwagon -- not only because they've been taught/conditioned to believe this but because for at least some of us, there is this fifth columnist in our own hearts which makes us vulnerable to being dominated. Look at all the romances out there which show a woman being dominated (tamed?) by a strong (read bossy :( ) man. CBMW-types (if I can respectfully call them that) would say that is because God really made women to submit, and that is where we are to find our ultimate romantic fulfilment. But, apart from anything else, the sheer unhealthiness of many of those images/plot-lines, and the infantilising of the women, makes me question whether the appeal is not, rather, to our fallenness, and therefore the very thing we should be striving to overcome in the Kingdom of God?

I believe this dynamic helps to explain the abuse of women

It's official!

I now have my letter from the college board to say I have been officially approved for graduation!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, I know I had already fulfilled all requirements, but there's still this little corner of my mind that didn't believe it could actually happen. In 1975, for personal reasons which involve other people to some extent, but also my own mental and emotional state at the time which left me unable to complete the basic workload, I left uni without a degree, and a firm belief that I had failed and was incapable of ever getting a degree. Years passed. I got married, had kids, brought them up, dealt with some heavy issues in my life, mainly to do with abuse, and felt like a failure. I didn't know who I was meant to be, or what God had created me to do. So long as my kids needed a mum that gave me a sense of purpose, but my kids were growing up and I wasn't sure what came next. Crafts and sports, the typical time-fillers for womenwith time on their hands, are two of the things I have the least interest in (probably only equalled by my total disinterest in the business world.)

Then, in 2000 I went to a conference, in Brisbane, that changed my life. There was a session where a man, on his knees in front of 3,000 people, apologised to women for the way the church has treated them. All I could do was cry and cry, it touched so many places where I had been deeply hurt. And it was as I dealt with the aftermath of this that God spoke to me, plainly and clearly, and told me to get a degree in theology!

Well, it took a while to get things sorted out, but here I am with my BTh completed. It hasn't been easy, I have had to face a lot of my personal 'monsters' along the way, and there were moments where God got me through in such a way as to confirm that this was His calling (One outstanding example was the semester I really struggled with a pinched nerve in my back (so bad that I had my exams postponed for medical reasons) and came out with 2 HDs (high distinctions) -- I had been within a hairsbreadth of tossing in the whole thing as impossible!

So, here I am, 53 years old, and waiting to see what God is calling me to. I have no idea what happens next, and I still have no clear idea whether I should do my Masters, but it's an exciting journey. When I was 16 and a new christian, I looked around the church I was in and saw the attitudes of the older people. I prayed that I wouldn't become like that, but that middle age would find me doing new things for God and not becoming too "comfortable" in my faith. I guess I can say God has answered that prayer!

The Broken One

The issue of abused women is one that doesn't go away. (Like many issues, it is one that will never go away until Jesus returns and all things are made new) This poem is about an imaginary girl, but the problems she represents are anything but imaginary. A victim of some form of abuse since childhood, she runs away, ends up in prostitution (where of course she gets re-abused over and over)and ends up on drugs to numb the impossible pain of being a human being who has been reduced to living like a brute beast. This is not about the rights and wrongs of her situation; which of us, really honestly, has lived so blamelessly, so free of ever making wrong choices, that we have any right to stand in judgement? This is about a broken soul who needs to know that her only hope of healing lies in a God who was broken for her ..

Out of the limelight’s glare
Shadows where none will care.
Huddled in slimy street
Garbage beneath your feet
Garbage attacks your soul:
Who knows what more they stole?

Body an empty shell
Mind on the brink of hell
Absent from all that’s real
(For who can bear to feel?)
Only the sullen rain
Cries for such dreadful pain.

Blank are the eyes that see
Things that should never be
Plaything, discarded, lost,
Used only once, then tossed
Leaving the flesh behind
Cleaving the broken mind.

“Love” is the user’s word
Yet strangely still preferred
The bleak command of pain
Calling to feel again
Therefore oblivion’s haze
Swallows unwanted days.

Already lost in hell
Why then condemn as well?
Only love crucified
Goes where the heart has died
Lifting aside the stones.
Breathing on barren bones.

Jesus the Skandalon

His birth was a scandal. Imagine the whispers and innuendos in Nazareth: little pious Mary, of all girls, to wind up pregnant before she was married. And Joseph seemed to be having some problems with it himself. Did this mean he wasn't the father? It was probably a good idea to get right away to Bethlehem for the birth. Then no one could count the months.

He was attended by outcasts -- shepherds and Gentiles. He spent his earliest years being raised in a foreign land, the land of Israel's slavery (how symbolic is that?), instead of spending all his formative years in the Holy Land, Eretz Israel.

He hung out with all the wrong people. he let that rebel, that critic of kins, John the Baptist, baptize him. He couldn't even get respectable rabbinical students to be his disciples, instead he collected a bunch of riff-raff to follow him , including some fishermen and even, unbelievably, a tax collector. He did not show proper respect for the religious authorities: he called the temple a den of thieves and had a lot of vile names for the pharisees. He touched lepers, and bleeding women, he healed on the sabbath. he spoke to samaritans (politely!) and even one on one with women he wasn't related to. And for all his disreputable ways, he seemed to think he was God. Even his family thought he'd lost it at one point. And there were far too many miracles -- showy stuff with demons and storms and interrupting funerals!

Then, as if He hadn't offended enough people, he had to go and die shamefully, painfully, like a criminal, in the exact way the Law said was accursed. And he didn't even have the decency to stay shame-faced in the tomb! Everything about him was inherently offensive to the well-bred and self-righteous. The way he treated the really bad people, you'd have to conclude he didn't take sin seriously enough. The way he contradicted some of the traditions of the rabbis you'd think he was a bit of a liberal...

You have to wonder how Christianity ever got mistaken for the religion of respectable people!

And, by the way, no one ever, ever took sin more seriously than Jesus did!

Came across this prayer by Thomas merton. it seems a good fit with where I'm at right now.

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death, I will not fear for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

- Thomas Merton

Choir of hard knocks

My daughter gave me the DVD of this for my birthday, and now I've finished college I have time to start watching it. incredibly moving.

To recap: Opera singer and choirmaster Jonathon Welch had the idea to form a choir from the down and outs of melbourne. No singing auditions were required, the only qualification was to be homeless or disadvantaged in some way. Hence most of the choir members have serious problems with drugs, alcohol etc. But here, in this choir they are given value. Jonathon is a natural with these people; he doesn't condescend or patronise them. He insists on a few basic rules, like treating each other with respect, then he simply loves them and responds to them as they are. We see him crying at some of their auditions for solo parts (ok, I was crying too), hugging them and encouraging them. There was a special on Channel 2 the other night showing them being brought to perform at the Sydney Opera House. I defy any normal person to have dry eyes when a young woman gets up and sings a solo about "the two of us" with her young daughter, and then announce to the crowd that she's been clean for 3 days and this is the first time in her life she's ever sung sober!

And then you see those faces, across which life has written things that you and I can only imagine in our nightmares, and there is light and hope there, and they are singing the words of Leonard Cohen's hallelujah:

And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

That's grace. Beyond our theological differences and quibbles, that's the heart of it for everyone of us. Dare we imagine that, because our lives are more comfortable and our sins are more genteel, we are any less broken than they? We will not be singing our Hallelujahs one day because we got it more right than anyone else, but because God in His mercy has come among us, as Jesus, and lifted us out of the gutter and set a new song upon our lips. May we, too, have tears of wonder in our eyes.