It's why they always paint Him that way

You know all those paintings of Jesus, where the sky is pierced by beams of light which shower down upon him? We saw that yesterday, somewhere between Winslow, AZ and Santa Rosa, NM (which is where we stopped for the night). Not being a photographer, and not having brought a camera, I couldn't get that picture. So these will have to do (taken by my trusty Sanyo Katana DLX):



We had been watching rainclouds developing in the distance for quite some time. As the distance to them got shorter, we were fairly convinced that we were headed into a storm. Instead: a clear double rainbow that we could see from end to end.

Maybe 200 drops on the windshield. It was so clear that we watched it move across the landscape -- the individual shrubs and the grass -- as we drew nearer.
Then at once we passed under it, and it was gone.

Can't you just see the light of glory?
"The rocks and stones themselves would start to sing."

Takin' it easy

"Standin' On The Corner Park", a Route 66 Roadside Attraction.

No idea? It's as in "Well, I've been standin' on a corner in..."

Kingman, AZ 8:11 pm

It's the day's end at the Days Inn. (How many times have they heard that one?) The goal was to get out of California, and 583 miles or so later, here we are.


View Larger Map

Didn't take the route Google suggested, or the one AAA highlighted on the three maps, but we made it. It takes three maps to get out of California, and one to get from Arizona to North Carolina.

Easy drive today, though Austin is completely disoriented. And bored. It's really sad that a 55 lb. red haired sweetie dog is more bored than his graduate-degreed human companions. Of course, we're able to see the blistering expanses of rock, dirt, and cactus, which I suppose makes it more interesting. It was 104 when we stopped for gas ($5.79/gal. in nowhere CA), but only 94 when we stopped again ($3.95/gal. in nowhere AZ).

Passable pizza, tastily overdressed Caesars, and Sierra Nevada in the room, and we're headed to sleep. After I work on the newsletter, of course, with the raison d'trip lying on the floor.

970 Hwy 17 SJ2SC

First day of driving Shannon's dog, Austin, to North Carolina, 7:50 a.m.

I'm on an express bus of the local transit authority (VTA). The number's 970, but none of the signs say that. They all say Hwy 17, which is the only through road from San Jose and the rest of the Bay Area to Santa Cruz and the rest of the northern South Bay. (California has another South Bay, but it's in Southern California near Los Angeles and might properly be called the southern South Bay.) Hwy 17 is known for being crowded or closed: it's two lanes each way of winding mountainous road, speed limit 45-55, real speed 15 or 75. What happens is people drive 75, crash, and then everyone else drives 15. And once there's an accident, forward motion ceases. Done. Might as well pull out your nearly pristine copy of War and Peace.

The bus, however, rocks hard. Cupholders. Comfy seats. Luggage racks. Clean. And get this: Wi-fi. Free. So the first leg of the journey -- San Jose to Santa Cruz -- is a breezy hour of blogging and getting work done. The next five days, driving I-40 with Heather and Austin in August. The company will be great; we'll see about the rest. I hear Heather has the ends of the flu. I have an ongoing ear infection and cough. Austin snores. Raise the roof.

But I have mapped all the Starbucks, Peets, and local dives along the I-40. Can you say "road trip?" I can. Happily.

The heavens are open

You know how sometimes in the Gospels the heavens open and the glory of God is revealed? After two weeks with Dallas Willard and Keith Matthews, and 20 fellow vineyard-workers, I know what that means. At this moment (and I pray it lasts) I can see the scope and arc of Scripture, the majesty of the kingdom, the interrelation of the law and the logos in Christ, the real meaning of evangelism, and the point and practice of following Jesus.

Wow.

Now how do I live, teach, and share this?

What an incredible blessing -- I am humbled by the Glory and the Presence.

Body of Christ

Can't say I've ever craved the Eucharist before, but last night, walking back from Whole Foods to the retreat center where I'm studying "spirituality and ministry" with Dallas Willard, my whole body got hungry for the Eucharist -- not just for the liturgy and body prayer, but for the body and blood itself. I could taste the wine and bread, not in my mouth, but in my soul's memory. So, since none was to be had, I mentally rewrote our liturgy as I walked...which made me late for dinner.

Reminding me of the food that satisfies.

Timing

I don't know how they do it.

My emailboxes are full of promotions from other pastors. Brian's new book and tour. Rob's articles.
My Firefox bookmarks link to regularly updated blogs. Daily, even.
Opportunities for reprioritizing abound: 7 Habits; Make Your Time Top-Heavy' Purpose-Driven.
Me? I'm up at 3:30 a.m. because it's quiet and had to feed the baby anyway. It's been 2 months -- 2 months! -- since I was here in cyberspace. I have exercised maybe 1x/week. Precious little meditation. No more than a book a week (not including those little black-and-white shapebooks that we "read" to our kid).

Talk to me all you want about how a baby turns your life upside down. Talk until you're blue in the face. Others manage it -- manage to do meaningful work, manage to stay in touch with the Big Gal. What gives?

I'd like to think that She's trying to teach me something. But, other than "don't compare yourself to others", I'm at a loss. And honestly, given the Holy Spirit's movement in my communities, and the book bubbling in the back of my mind, Her timing stinks.

If you're a pastor, writer, parent, and faithful contemplative, please email me with how you do it. I'm open to suggestion. And do tell me what has to go to make it happen.

Our Christmas gift

Elisabeth Ladoska Scott
born 12.26.07, 4:55 p.m.
7 lbs. 5 oz., 19"


Elisabeth
"Consecrated to God"

Ladoska
My great-grandmother, the Spiritualist minister and theologian

Scott
My husband's family name

Welcome home, long-expected one.

An advent cleaving

You can tell by the advent candles when our lives cleaved.

It is Christmas morning in our house, as it is in much of the world. Even the Orthodox are celebrating the Feast of the Nativity today. (We rarely align, due to different calendar systems. How unlikely!) After heating yesterday's coffee, setting a fresh pot going, and putting rice on for our diarrheic dog, I turned my attention to our kitchen table, which has been buried under cookies and candy and boxes and tissue and ribbon and communion bread for a long time.

That table was its own record of the season. 16 days ago, we had friends over to bake cookies, drink wine, eat amazing hors d'oeuvres, and generally celebrate friendship. The table never really emerged from that event, as we continued to pack cookie bags and wrap staff and team leader gifts and sort through dog harnesses and xmaswear and take phone notes and make lists.

This morning, I packed the last three cookie gifts, condensed the remainder, put away the boxes and tissue and ribbon, and swept up the crumbs and more sticky reminders. Then, I turned to the table that holds our little stereo, unburied the advent candles, and replaced them on the table.

Two have been burned. Two have not, and the Christ candle looks as virgin as the Holy Mother herself.

Somewhere around December 9, our world cleaved. We got a call from our adoption agency, asking us if we wanted to connect with a certain birthmother, living in Florida, due to give birth on January 3. On December 20, we had spoken with her, flown her to California, and were meeting with her and the agency to work out details. Since then -- five days ago -- we have moved her twice, scoured the area for affordable weekly housing (don't bother -- it's not here), collected gently-loved baby goods from our church family, run countless errands, gone to clinics and Medi-Cal offices. And: planned 4 worship services, written sermons and entire liturgies, led small groups, thrown parties, created graphics, rehearsed, decorated, redecorated, and redux over the last week of the divine waiting. Did I mention prayer? There's been a lot of prayer in there.

Things could still go differently than we imagine. The birthmother could change her mind. The baby could not survive. The birthfather could decide to contest. The last remaining Indian tribe might claim the child, with scarcely a drop of native blood, as its own. There are lots of unknowns in this scenario, including God's will.

Today is Christmas, and a young woman is very far from home, staying at an inn, waiting for the birth of her child. And we, we are exhausted and terrified, and very very hopeful.

Yesterday's doctor said the baby isn't going to wait until January 3.

Improbably, the word "cleave" has two precisely different meanings. To cleave is to "split or divide as if by a cutting blow." It is also "to remain faithful."

You can tell by the advent candles when our lives cleaved. We need to light them all tonight, on this first day of Christmas, to celebrate the arrival of the long-expected babe.


Painting: Nativity, by He Qi (China)

Did Jesus have a theology?

This morning at 7 a.m. Bible study (3 parts caffeine, 1 part Scripture), my wonderful husband and I got into a theological discussion about the nature of God, and the bipartite nature of Jesus.

(As background, we had just read Luke 3:21-38, where Luke tells of Jesus' baptism and then gives his lineage. Or not. I noticed for the first time the qualifier in verse 23, where Luke writes "He was the son, so it was thought, of Joseph." Luke is taking pains to contrast God's paternal claim on Jesus at baptism, and the common belief about his "paternal" ancestry through Joseph.)

Wonderful husband gives this idea (my words -- his were better): Jesus in the flesh was the constant creative tension between his humanity and his utter divinity. That is, every moment, every action, was a pushme-pullyou of those competing natures -- utter particularity and utter universality -- shown definitively in his cries on the cross.

That took us on to other things (and discovering that wonderful husband is pretty much a Christian Platonist), which is always fun.

Then, he decided I was becoming an apocalyptic, aiming for/reveling in the ushering-in of God's kingdom, a/k/a the End Times. (Not in the paperback novel sense, for Christ's sake. No leaving the car behind for me!) I told him I'm still all about Process.

So, apparently, I'm a "Process Apocalyptic."

Which, I'm inclined to think, reflects the can't-help-but-live-it theology of my Lord.

Santa Baby

For Songbird, who has never seen one. This is a statuette from Catholic Supply:






At this site, you can get the "whole" Kneeling Santa collection. I understand there's a cross-stitch pattern available.

The bah humbug Friday Five

The RevGalBlogPals ring asks five questions of its members every Friday. This one is leaning toward crabby christmastide, but since I haven't been writing very religiously ("Bad blogger, bad!") I thought I'd throw my coal into the stocking.

Please tell us your least favorite/most annoying seasonal....

1) dessert/cookie/family food
The miscellaneous yet ubiquitous 2nd rate candy: waxy chocolate, candy canes, stale ribbons. And, every plate of cookies or cakes that is very kindly given but enough for 12 people, unless I see it first. Especially the shortbread/spritz cookies that are made with nonbutter and no finesse.
Oh, golly, and rum/bourbon balls. What a waste of cocoa and spirits.

2) beverage (seasonal beer, eggnog w/ way too much egg and not enough nog, etc...)

Hate eggnog. And don't tell me that if I just had yours I'd change my mind. It's like diner hollandaise, which I loved as a kid but can't even think about now.

3) tradition (church, family, other)
We've pretty much blown apart the traditions in our house and made them the way we want them. So I'll have to say consumerism.

4) decoration
Blown up anything on lawns. The image of Santa praying at Jesus' manger. Cutesy statuettes. Over-the-top electrics.

5) gift (received or given)
I've done some poor gift giving myself, just totally guessing wrong. Worst I've received? Any one I wasn't expecting from a giver expecting reciprocation. Or the childhood ones with long and strong strings.

BONUS: SONG/CD that makes you want to tell the elves where to stick it.
Aaah, but there are so many to choose from. The whole Nutcracker. Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. Christmas songs sung sexily, generally. All I Want For Xmas Is My 2 Front Teeth. And, truly, by 12/26, any background soft strings or Muzak version of anything.

Bad blogger! Bad!

Black Friday

In honor of Black Friday, here is something from the Advent Conspiracy website.
Thank you, Jeanne.

Resist

by Jeanne McKinley

About a year ago I woke up to a strange hum. I was disoriented by it at first, didn't even know what the sound was, so I got up, looked out the window and saw a steady line of cars driving down the hill.
What in the world?
Are they evacuating the neighborhood and nobody told us?
I looked at the clock, it was 4:45am, then it hit me -- it was the day after Thanksgiving.
Black Friday.
I remember being blown away by the fact that my entire neighborhood was on their way to be the first ones out for the store buster prices, free socks or scarves or whatever other item the store would be dangling to bring us in, and then I had a moment of panic,
"Oh no, I'm going to miss it!"
I was missing the sales that would help me save money on Christmas presents!!
And then I remembered...
I had done that before, joined in the throng, jumped in the fray of craziness at 5am, I thought I had been missing something by not being a part of the American ritual of day after Thanksgiving sales. I realized, as I was standing in a line that wrapped around to the middle of the store that I had fallen for it, the idea that I needed to buy these socks at a great discount and that my family would be really excited about these fleece coats that were the "hottest thing" -- though I wasn't saving money because I had grabbed about 7 other things not on my list, but that I just Had to have.

I've been thinking about resistance today, the idea that this is my chance, as the holiday shopping season heats up, to resist. It's not easy. Resistance is a word that you feel, as I choose to not buy fun looking, sparkly junk that will put a momentary gleam in my children's eyes or make my house look pretty, I can feel that at times. As I choose to create things that will be meaningful and relational but will take effort and my time and frustration when it's not looking like I wanted it to, I feel that.

Here's something else -- I admit it -- maybe it's a girl thing but I love to shop. I love to spend money and buy things and I love to buy other people things and there's more -- I love to find the Perfect gift for someone, the thing they will absolutely LOVE. I love that feeling of "AH HA!" this is IT, and I'm going to be awarded the giver of the year award because I found THE present that will bring the most joy and happiness to that person, the gift that shows I know them best and have found the thing that resonates with them perfectly. The gift that they'll tell their friends about, "Jeanne got me that!"

Not pretty is it?

I can justify that feeling with the fact that I want to show my loved ones how much I love them by finding that perfect present but there's something I'm getting out of it as well, strokes, appreciation, people pleased with me.

No, not real pretty.

These are some things that God is redeeming in my heart this year as I refocus and rethink Jesus' birthday. The way I'm going to buy gifts and the way I'm going to give gifts. To give of myself as Christ gave to me. To hold my friends' and family's faces in my hands, look deep into their eyes and tell them how much I love them. And most of all to worship Christ in a beautiful, uncluttered way and to be free to love Him with all of me.

It's different, it's transformational and it feels really good.

Friday when I wake up to the hum of traffic, I'm going to roll over, pull the blankets tighter and cuddle with my hubby and I'm going to resist.

Resistance doesn't sound so bad after all does it?

Snoring companions

I


I've been asked to update puppy pics. So here is Tanq at his puppy kindergarten "graduation".







And one of our wonderfully patient cat, Jamba.
Yes, he's under the bed.

What gets in the way

I subscribe to this blog, which means that every time I log into my email account online, I am treated to a reminder of how long it's been since that slacker writer of Even You posted. Today it said "over three weeks."

How is that possible? How could three weeks have gone by without my doing something that matters to me, especially when my Outlook calendar has "Blog" as an appointment every day at 7, and my online email clearly states my dereliction? How is it that, even for the important things in our lives, stuff gets in the way?

I set my cell phone alarm for noon and five p.m. to remind me of midday and vespers prayers. Around the same time I created that system of remembering, I stopped doing my morning and bedtime fixed-hour prayers, and learned how to quickly disarm the alarm. How does that happen?

I'd like to blame it on newdog/work/holidays/congregation/husband/anythingotherthansloth, but that would be a lie. What gets in the way is my recent resistance to prioritizing what I claim is most important. The reality: scan your calendar and your Quicken, and you will know what your true priorities are.

Jesus said, ""store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." It seems that just now my treasure is not what I want it to be. So perhaps the first step (besides admitting my sin/sloth/distraction) is to assess my treasure and align my heart (and my daily schedule) to it.

Here I am, dogsnoring/workwaiting/holidayslooming/congregationpausing/husbandworking, writing. It's about time.

It's about God.

The Friday Five (courtesy of RevGalBlogPals)

As mentioned here before, RevGalBlogPals asks five questions every week of its blogging constituency. This week it's about food. Food (along with music) is what I adore, have some instrumental gifts for, and precious little creativity or persistence in. (How's that for dangling participles?) So how could I not play?

1. If you were a food, what would you be? Something creamy, but with texture, bite, and a whisper of sweetness. Ginger ice cream. Or pumpkin risotto with aged asiago, toasted pumpkin seeds, and crisp fried sage (with a tiny bit of cayenne in there). Or, going back to the ginger theme, a 3-variety ginger cookie with white pepper.
2. One memorable meal. I had too many, apparently, and Blogger nipped them out. Let's just say there have been many, many.
3. What is your favorite comfort food from childhood? Macaroni and cheese. Guacamole. Really.
   
4. When going to a church potluck, what one recipe from your kitchen is sure to be a hit? Fritatta.
5. What's the strangest thing you ever willingly ate? I don't eat meat, so that lets a lot of the truly unfamiliar stuff out. But on that theme: Beautifully grilled fresh salmon, prepared by dear friends who didn't equate salmon with meat and whose love outweighed my morals.
   

Bonus question: What’s your favorite drink to order when looking forward to a great meal?
How much money can I spend? What's the meal? Drink depends on the meal. Generally? Sparkling. Or a Manhattan. Ideally? A white from the hands of wine artist Didier Dagueneau.

More stony bits

1) Need a new profile picture with current four-leggeds (rather than our dear departed saintly Mo).
2) "Christmas Unplugged"

Gravel

My mind gets all gravelly when I'm on retreat. There are lots of concrete bits that stir around, but they're surrounded by a blur of ripples. More on that below.

There are two retreatants here at Mercy Center (in a building that can hold 250 easily for conferences and has 90 bedrooms). Or at least there were: the other one's room looked pretty cleaned up this morning. Which means that, aside from staff and the Sisters of Mercy (not the band. ripple.) it's me, pretty much. So at breakfast this morning, the cook had made 4 small omelets and laid them out, along with maybe 4 cups of oatmeal, 4 yogurts, etc. You get the picture. I had one omelet and a piece of toast with peanut butter, in a room with umpteen 6-to-8 person tables, and a lot of icons on one wall (which I enjoy very much). So external silence is easy this time. Internal silence, less so. (ripple.)

For this morning's meditation I went to the chapel, where others from the communities inside and out were already meditating. I've been alone in the meditation room (which has meant I could do sun salutations between sessions), so it was pleasant to be in a room with others, sitting in the presence of the Lord.

I've been keeping the hours, too, which is a heck of a lot easier here than at home.

The other thing I've been doing is reading: my usual devotional (My Utmost for His Highest), and Shane Claiborne's The Irresistible Revolution. I'm on a headlong search for a December book for my Christian Spirituality book group, and my focus is on returning Christ to Christmas by thinking Simple. (We're doing Advent Conspiracy in our church. (gravel)) So many people are torn by Christmas: sad or exhausted or lovingthetraditionsbutoverwhelmed or having to rev up to consider the nativity on 24 December. The commercialism is really getting to me, both because of the increasing gap between the rich (including me) and the poor (including most of the world, and a lot of our country); and because it's so hard for folks to even see Christ through the tinsel and batteries. Even Christian bookstores and websites are all over selling. Which shouldn't surprise me but does. (gravel, gravel).

If you have a book idea, post it in comments, okay?

So here's more gravel, in no order:
1) There is simply no reason that one (okay, I) cannot live with this sensibility in the "real" world.
2) I need a timer for the hours and the discipline to obey it.
3) I'd really love to have early morning meditation and communion with others. ("Contemplation and Communion") Maybe offer it on campus? 1-2x/week?
4) 1st and 3rd Wed. evenings?
5) We (okay, I) can't keep living with all the waste and excess. (Poor wonderful husband.)(Wait, that may be a ripple.)
6) Contemplation has to become community action. And vice versa.

And rippling: why do I immediately move away from Jesus into "the next thing"?

Emerging Women

Over on the Emerging Women blog is some writing by Jemila Kwon. She calls it "Creed: The Gospel According to Mark." I wouldn't say it's either a creed, per se, or a meticulous rendering of the substance of that gospel: if you haven't read Mark, please do! That said, I liked it very much, especially the part that reads:

Abandon all but Love of God and Neighbor
Spread the good news that God is acting again!
God is here
God is now
The time is now to spread the good news

Before God’s kingdom is consummated in full
Before our generation passes away
Let the good news go out that God is acting again and his will is to forgive, heal, free the oppressed, make all things clean, serve the least, raise the dead to life and call all who have ears to a new way of life.

What is the new way of life?

The way of loving God and having faith
The way of loving neighbor and loving stranger
The way of standing for life, even to death
The way of believing God, and following God’s beloved son, God’s anointed one.

This fall, we're reading McLaren's Secret Message of Jesus, and I'm preaching a series based in it. I am so grateful that we (me, McLaren, our church community, Jemila Kwon, whomever fits) are not alone in thinking about what a different lens might mean to both the way we live and the effect we have on the world. More about that soon.

Thankfulness list

The RevGalBlogPals Friday Five this week is a list of five things ("people, places, graces, miracles...") for which one is thankful. Hard to keep it to five today, but here goes:

1) Disposable income. I was able to treat soon-to-be-married Music Minister and some of her girlfriends to high tea yesterday, which gave me great pleasure (and her a few moments of peace and frivolity).

2) Companion animals. Tanq on the lap, snoring. Jamba on the laptop case, which is on top of the portfolio, which is on top of numerous unread magazines, on top of diversity training materials for my other gig, on my desk, in the sun.

3) The wonderful husband. A gift from God, undeserved and unearned. And Heather, Laveille, Jeff, John and distant ballast of all friend kinds.

4) My church community. After nearly five years you continue to amaze and inspire me.

5) God's rescue from the sucking muck. Him lying on his belly on dry land, reaching an arm into the ooze just to pull me to safety. Over and over again. And the many, many packages in which that grace appears. Including all of the above.