Just so that everybody will be reminded that I am not, in fact, a Democrat (Green Party ftw!) after my last post...have I mentioned lately that I've been exceptionally unimpressed with President Obama's leadership, or rather lack thereof?
In 2008, when I voted for him, I suspect I was one of millions who cast my ballot for him with a certain sense of hope and optimism. After the eight years of the George W. Bush presidency, I think a lot of us were desperately hungry for someone - anyone - who was willing to put forward a progressive-minded agenda that seemed the antidote to the doldrums in which we had found ourselves as a nation. Bonus points for being able to speak in coherent, complete sentences.
And now, pushing three years later, the buyer's regret is strong with with this guy living in Chicago. While I appreciate Obama's community organizing model of leadership, I think it is obvious after three years that...it doesn't work in DC. You cannot "community organize" the half of Congress that wakes up every morning and throws darts at a picture of you over their coffee and Cheerios. Furthermore, while I respect the President's attempts at staying "above the fray" and not getting down into the mudpit with the partisan bulldogs...that also hasn't proved remarkably successful, either. What should have been three years of telling us very direct truths about who's to blame for the pathetic state of this nation's economy - rampant deregulation, tax policies principally designed to let the rich pay lower taxes, percent-wise, than the rest of us, expensive wars marked by questionable ethical justification and little practical payoff, corporate empowerment that threatens to send us back to the "good ol' days" of robber barons and wage-slaves - was instead spent dithering spinelessly, failing to explain matters and, in the process, losing the rhetorical battle on nearly every key issue.
And the chickens are coming home to roost - the 2010 election was, let's be honest, a dumpster fire. The recent debt ceiling agreement was a Tea Party-orchestrated coup that never should have happened. A NY Times article recently compared Obama's leadership, very unfavorably, with FDR's during the Depression. FDR, from the get-go, named the culprits responsible for the economic collapse, took them to task, and - most importantly - COMMUNICATED THIS OFTEN AND WITH CLARITY TO THE PEOPLE OF THIS COUNTRY. Fireside chats, anyone? But...we don't get this with Obama. We get the aloofness that comes from being above the fray. We get a cool operation who leaves us wondering what key values he might be willing to throw under the bus next (remember how he almost gutted Social Security and Medicare/Medicaid to appease the Tea Party?). We get a man who seems to have an almost pathological aversion to conflict, in a time where we could really stand a chief executive who will NOT roll over and play dead.
If we end up with a President Perry or President Bachmann...it will be nobody's fault but Obama's.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
President Crotch
I learned earlier, (thanks to this article posted by my friend Kaleigh: http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2011/08/13/rick-perry-a-candidate-who-will-do-anything-to-beat-romney-and-obama.html) that Rick Perry's old nickname, among certain folks in the Texas political world, was Crotch thanks to his tight jeans and tendency to adjust himself very publicly.
I have never been a fan of people declaring that they'll leave the country if so-and-so is elected president, but...Global Missions will look a LOT more appealing if the phrase "President Perry" becomes a reality. Take it from someone who lived in Texas for most of the man's political career - he's scum. This is a man who has never had an adult career - he is as smooth-operator-career-politician as they come. He has no love for, or interest in, serving the people; his primary interest, as far as I can tell, has been in maintaining his own political power and position. Again, he's never had an adult job other than politics. He also, as I learned in this article, managed a C in Animal Breeding. Not only is he a career politician, he's not even a bright one.
As for the claims that Perry has saved the Texas economy, consider that most of the job creation during his time as governor has come either from the surge in energy prices (he had nothing to do with that), or in the form of minimum jobs without benefits (he likely had plenty to do with that). Also consider that, during his time as governor, Texas' budget has been gutted, at least when it comes to education and providing services for poor Texans...and, by the way, there are a lot of them thanks to the superabundance of low-paying jobs with no benefits. Look up the numbers - Texas leads the nation in uninsured residents, uninsured children, and children living below the poverty line, at last I checked. As for worker's rights, well...it's telling that at least one company which set up shot in Texas will only build facilities in developing nations...and Texas.
Have jobs been created in Texas? Sure. Are they the kind of jobs which we need as a country to move forward? Nope. Have Perry's "screw the poor" policies kept the state out of fiscal trouble? Nope; the state is $27B in the red for this fiscal year, and as the list of cuts shows, the problem is Texas' reluctance to overhaul its tax code or invest wisely in the future rather than loads of wasteful spending. Is this what we want for the rest of the country? Is this presidential leadership? Will this make us a better, stronger union? Please vote "no" when it comes to Crotch Perry.
I have never been a fan of people declaring that they'll leave the country if so-and-so is elected president, but...Global Missions will look a LOT more appealing if the phrase "President Perry" becomes a reality. Take it from someone who lived in Texas for most of the man's political career - he's scum. This is a man who has never had an adult career - he is as smooth-operator-career-politician as they come. He has no love for, or interest in, serving the people; his primary interest, as far as I can tell, has been in maintaining his own political power and position. Again, he's never had an adult job other than politics. He also, as I learned in this article, managed a C in Animal Breeding. Not only is he a career politician, he's not even a bright one.
As for the claims that Perry has saved the Texas economy, consider that most of the job creation during his time as governor has come either from the surge in energy prices (he had nothing to do with that), or in the form of minimum jobs without benefits (he likely had plenty to do with that). Also consider that, during his time as governor, Texas' budget has been gutted, at least when it comes to education and providing services for poor Texans...and, by the way, there are a lot of them thanks to the superabundance of low-paying jobs with no benefits. Look up the numbers - Texas leads the nation in uninsured residents, uninsured children, and children living below the poverty line, at last I checked. As for worker's rights, well...it's telling that at least one company which set up shot in Texas will only build facilities in developing nations...and Texas.
Have jobs been created in Texas? Sure. Are they the kind of jobs which we need as a country to move forward? Nope. Have Perry's "screw the poor" policies kept the state out of fiscal trouble? Nope; the state is $27B in the red for this fiscal year, and as the list of cuts shows, the problem is Texas' reluctance to overhaul its tax code or invest wisely in the future rather than loads of wasteful spending. Is this what we want for the rest of the country? Is this presidential leadership? Will this make us a better, stronger union? Please vote "no" when it comes to Crotch Perry.
I took a plane out to find some truth, but all I found, I can't seem to leave behind
Well, distinguished readers, this homesick adopted Chicagoan has returned to the city of his dreams. If you've never dreamt of Chicago, I encourage you to do so at the soonest possible opportunity. To give you something to dream by...
Yes, the song is a re-post...so sue me. It's gorgeous. In other news, it has been an insanely busy month, in case the dearth of updates did not give that away. Since mid-July, I have....
-gotten back together with Emily
-ridden my bike most of the way across Iowa
-said goodbye to Dayton, Iowa
-driven a moving van across Iowa and Illinois back to Chicago
-settled into a new apartment
-Gotten pink eye, which caused me to miss a good friend's wedding
-flown to Texas to visit family and friends-who-are-family-in-my-mind
-preached at a Lutheran church on the SW Side
Now, I get to catch my breath...for a couple of days. YAGM orientation starts on Wednesday, and it will, no doubt, be an insanely wonderful busy week of 18 hour days spent with 50 outstanding young adults who are getting ready to spend the next year of their lives abroad, being surprised by how God meets them wherever they land. Then, another few days of breath-catching, and then returning student retreat/fall registration, then a long weekend, and then classes. Senior year.
It doesn't quite feel real, yet, that I'm nearly done with my seminary, and candidacy, journey. By the end of tomorrow, I'll have sent my edited approval essay to my candidacy committee chair (knock on wood); by the end of December, I'll (knock on wood) be approved to take a call and will have turned in first call paperwork, including geographic preference forms. More than ever, the future is looming over me - and this time, it's not just short-term choices that affect where I land for a year. I'm watching the birthing of a career, of living in the same place for an extended period of time, without moving around and spending summers elsewhere only to come back to a new apartment and new roommates, for the first time in my life.
It's exciting, mostly. As much as I love wandering, I'm ready to settle down somewhere for a while. I'm ready to find another congregation, like Emanuel, full of people who want to find ways to proclaim the Gospel and form Christian community...and, this time, be able to put down roots. I'm ready to arrive at a point in life where I can actually look at marrying and starting a family and say that, realistically, it's feasible.
Of course, the nervousness comes with it. Where will I land? I'm planning to make it clear that I want to stay in the Upper Midwest; will I actually get to do that? What if I get sent back to Texas (dear God, please no....)? What if I get sent to another extremely rural area because I have ministry experience in that sort of an environment? What'll I do? Even if I do get to be where I'd like geographically speaking, what sort of congregation will I find? Will I get to lead a group of mission-minded, progressive-thinking Christ-followers who are willing to embrace all of the scandal and risk that the Gospel entails, or will I find myself at a church where lutefisk and krumkake take precedence over serving others and sharing the Good News?
Then again, even as those thoughts fill my head, I remember that, a year ago, I was two weeks into my year in the last place on earth I'd have ever chosen to live. Not that I really want to dive deep into rural living again, but God found me there in southeast Webster County and equipped me for the things to which I was called to do there. Same goes for Bethlehem in Beverly, Boulder, Montevideo, Ghana, Seguin, and Lake Jackson. Wherever the Wind of God (no coincidence that "spirit" and "wind" are the same word...) blows me, I know I'll find what I need. Here's hoping it blows to Regions 3 or 5, but even if it doesn't...I'll have what I need.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Boxes
And, once more, my life is a bunch of boxes sitting on a living room floor, waiting to be taped shut and loaded into the back of a truck.
I've moved an average of once a year since my 18th birthday. Off to college, back to my mom's house, back to college, across campus for the summer, across campus for a semester, to Ghana (via Mom's house), back to campus (via Mom's house), then back to Mom's house, then to Uruguay, then to Chicago (via Mom's house), then to Boulder, then back to Chicago, then down the street in Chicago, then to Iowa, and now (once more), to Chicago. Fifteen moves, if you don't count sojourns of less than 6 weeks at my mom's house. I've nearly averaged TWO moves a year. Have I mentioned I'm really, REALLY good at packing?
There's a smiley face, and a frowny face, version of my practically nomadic existence. The smiley face: I love going new places and doing new things. Even by the pretty-mobile standards of a 21st century North American young adult, I've gotten around quite a bit. I truly am free to go where I want, do what I want, and experience the width and breadth of life in this world. I'm a better, more thoughtful, more open-minded person for all my moving around. I now have a network of friends that literally spans the entire world. I've learned that home is about more than four walls and a roof; it's about people, and connectedness. I think of "stuff" as a millstone around my neck, just a collection of semi-necessary evils, and I try to minimize and simply how I can, when I can...I like to travel light through life. I am a better person for all of these moves.
Now, the frowny face: The one thing I want, more than anything, is to be settled someplace. I'm sick of saving my moving boxes because I know I'll need them again soon. I'm tired of living with one foot here, and another foot over there. I'm hungry for the rootedness and sense of place that comes from settling down in the same spot for a while. I want to meet children, and youth, and watch them grow, become grown-ups, settle down and have kids, and then watch those kids grow. I long to feel like an old salt in a community rather than always the new guy.
But, for now, it's boxes. I pack them up, I move them, I open them, and I find that what I put in them is more than just dishes and clothing and books; I put my dreams, my heart, my life in them, and as they come out of those boxes, I plant them, once more, in new soil and wait to see what fruit they bear.
I've moved an average of once a year since my 18th birthday. Off to college, back to my mom's house, back to college, across campus for the summer, across campus for a semester, to Ghana (via Mom's house), back to campus (via Mom's house), then back to Mom's house, then to Uruguay, then to Chicago (via Mom's house), then to Boulder, then back to Chicago, then down the street in Chicago, then to Iowa, and now (once more), to Chicago. Fifteen moves, if you don't count sojourns of less than 6 weeks at my mom's house. I've nearly averaged TWO moves a year. Have I mentioned I'm really, REALLY good at packing?
There's a smiley face, and a frowny face, version of my practically nomadic existence. The smiley face: I love going new places and doing new things. Even by the pretty-mobile standards of a 21st century North American young adult, I've gotten around quite a bit. I truly am free to go where I want, do what I want, and experience the width and breadth of life in this world. I'm a better, more thoughtful, more open-minded person for all my moving around. I now have a network of friends that literally spans the entire world. I've learned that home is about more than four walls and a roof; it's about people, and connectedness. I think of "stuff" as a millstone around my neck, just a collection of semi-necessary evils, and I try to minimize and simply how I can, when I can...I like to travel light through life. I am a better person for all of these moves.
Now, the frowny face: The one thing I want, more than anything, is to be settled someplace. I'm sick of saving my moving boxes because I know I'll need them again soon. I'm tired of living with one foot here, and another foot over there. I'm hungry for the rootedness and sense of place that comes from settling down in the same spot for a while. I want to meet children, and youth, and watch them grow, become grown-ups, settle down and have kids, and then watch those kids grow. I long to feel like an old salt in a community rather than always the new guy.
But, for now, it's boxes. I pack them up, I move them, I open them, and I find that what I put in them is more than just dishes and clothing and books; I put my dreams, my heart, my life in them, and as they come out of those boxes, I plant them, once more, in new soil and wait to see what fruit they bear.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Word up
I've been thinking a lot about devotional practices and scripture lately. I grew up in an environment (church and school, at least; there was a lot more grace at home) in which having a daily "quiet time" was considered as important as breathing or eating...and if you weren't doing so, then you were a sinner who probably wasn't saved. PROVE your salvation; read the Bible in the most slavishly literal way possible! Then, go vote Republican, wisely invest your money, and live a nice, plastic middle class existence because that's what God likes best.
Not surprisingly, my adult life has been a bit of a give-and-take in my trying to come to terms with how best to DO daily devotional practices so that they feel like a joy rather than an item on my "getting to heaven" checklist. Predictably for a Bible nerd, I've never gotten much out of non-scripture-based devotional practices - I don't dislike things like centering prayer, but they don't do much for me. I need scripture - even when I'm reading Joshua (my personal vote for "least favorite book in the Bible," as in my eyes it's nothing more than an atrocious record of ancient Israel's version of "manifest destiny," complete with the bloody slaughter of innocents for the crime of being in the Promised Land), I find my own faith nourished by the comfort, and the challenge, offered up by the words of the Bible.
So, then, how to liberate it from "read the Bible because you have to" syndrome? That was my big issue in college - how can I read this book (that's more than just a book...) when the very act of sitting down with it brings back nothing but bad memories of Kevin, the kid with the world's biggest guilt complex for no good reason? Finally, I had to cast my devotional reading as being specifically liberational - I had to make a deliberate choice to read the scriptures differently, as a testimony to God's grace revealed in freedom and justice in direct opposition to the legalistic endorsement of the American Dream that I had been told was the "right" way to read the Bible. It was still a struggle sometimes, but it helped free me from my own mental barriers to reading the scriptures.
Over time, that became less of a struggle, and then I woke up one day and I realized that I was beginning to be almost as doctrinaire in MY reading of the scriptures as those who I'd come to resent for how THEIR reading of the scriptures got shoved down my throat. I'm perhaps not entirely past that stage, but I decided as a means of working through and past the rigidness, to shift my focus toward getting a sense of the broad sweep of scripture. After all, I figured, I'm going to be a pastor, right? I need to read it all! So, I read a psalm, a chapter of Proverbs, a selection from another Old Testament work, a Gospel selection, and an Epistle selection...every day. What began as a great means of seeing the sheer sweep of the biblical witness eventually became a speed reading contest, as my schedule stopped allowing me to spend an entire hour a morning in scriptural reflection...unless I started to get up earlier, which, frankly - not gonna happen. It was like an eating contest - I was gorging myself on the Bible, and it was as much to prove a point ("look how much of the Bible I've read!") as to grow in faith.
So...I stopped that, too. Now, I read a chapter a day. I will not let myself read more. I read it three times - once through normally, the second time while consulting the study notes, and the third time again per normal. I also read a selection from the Book of Concord, Luther's works, or another spiritually edifying theological work. And...it's done a lot for me. It's finally starting to become about faith being fed, about asking questions as I patiently work my way through some of the works I'd just as soon ignore (1st Timothy, anyone?). I find myself wrestling with what to do with language and images that seem inconsistent with the Gospel, but...I think I'm growing through that. It's harder to be brash and doctrinaire when you force yourself to read the verses of scripture that we'd rather put in the dark corner of the closet and forget all about, and it's hard to brag about how well you know the Bible when your daily volume of consumption isn't particularly noteworthy. I'm sure I'll find the pitfall in this devotional style, too, and maybe even fall into it headfirst, but for now...slowly, patiently, and in conversation with the Confessions and other works is just what I need.
Not surprisingly, my adult life has been a bit of a give-and-take in my trying to come to terms with how best to DO daily devotional practices so that they feel like a joy rather than an item on my "getting to heaven" checklist. Predictably for a Bible nerd, I've never gotten much out of non-scripture-based devotional practices - I don't dislike things like centering prayer, but they don't do much for me. I need scripture - even when I'm reading Joshua (my personal vote for "least favorite book in the Bible," as in my eyes it's nothing more than an atrocious record of ancient Israel's version of "manifest destiny," complete with the bloody slaughter of innocents for the crime of being in the Promised Land), I find my own faith nourished by the comfort, and the challenge, offered up by the words of the Bible.
So, then, how to liberate it from "read the Bible because you have to" syndrome? That was my big issue in college - how can I read this book (that's more than just a book...) when the very act of sitting down with it brings back nothing but bad memories of Kevin, the kid with the world's biggest guilt complex for no good reason? Finally, I had to cast my devotional reading as being specifically liberational - I had to make a deliberate choice to read the scriptures differently, as a testimony to God's grace revealed in freedom and justice in direct opposition to the legalistic endorsement of the American Dream that I had been told was the "right" way to read the Bible. It was still a struggle sometimes, but it helped free me from my own mental barriers to reading the scriptures.
Over time, that became less of a struggle, and then I woke up one day and I realized that I was beginning to be almost as doctrinaire in MY reading of the scriptures as those who I'd come to resent for how THEIR reading of the scriptures got shoved down my throat. I'm perhaps not entirely past that stage, but I decided as a means of working through and past the rigidness, to shift my focus toward getting a sense of the broad sweep of scripture. After all, I figured, I'm going to be a pastor, right? I need to read it all! So, I read a psalm, a chapter of Proverbs, a selection from another Old Testament work, a Gospel selection, and an Epistle selection...every day. What began as a great means of seeing the sheer sweep of the biblical witness eventually became a speed reading contest, as my schedule stopped allowing me to spend an entire hour a morning in scriptural reflection...unless I started to get up earlier, which, frankly - not gonna happen. It was like an eating contest - I was gorging myself on the Bible, and it was as much to prove a point ("look how much of the Bible I've read!") as to grow in faith.
So...I stopped that, too. Now, I read a chapter a day. I will not let myself read more. I read it three times - once through normally, the second time while consulting the study notes, and the third time again per normal. I also read a selection from the Book of Concord, Luther's works, or another spiritually edifying theological work. And...it's done a lot for me. It's finally starting to become about faith being fed, about asking questions as I patiently work my way through some of the works I'd just as soon ignore (1st Timothy, anyone?). I find myself wrestling with what to do with language and images that seem inconsistent with the Gospel, but...I think I'm growing through that. It's harder to be brash and doctrinaire when you force yourself to read the verses of scripture that we'd rather put in the dark corner of the closet and forget all about, and it's hard to brag about how well you know the Bible when your daily volume of consumption isn't particularly noteworthy. I'm sure I'll find the pitfall in this devotional style, too, and maybe even fall into it headfirst, but for now...slowly, patiently, and in conversation with the Confessions and other works is just what I need.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Let's get homiletical, homiletical - I want to hear your preacher talk...
Lameness aside, the two most recent sermons here at Emanuel are up for your viewing pleasure!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Let me sleep all night in your soul kitchen...
So, as we all know, I live to cook. Actually, I love to cook. There is something intensely gratifying about not only creating something, but being able to share it with others...and in a way that meets a basic human need. Gotta eat to live, after all.
My (mis)adventures in the world of online dating have led me to think a little bit about cooking as a realm loaded with faith metaphors. Let me explain. I've done eHarmony off and on for a few years now, and I've found one big problem with the logic of their matching system. You see, if you list faith/religion as a big priority for you in your life, you don't get a whole lot of control about setting belief parameters. I can't, for example, check the "progressive Christian" box rather than the "rigidly traditionalist Christian" box. Sometimes, eHarmony does a good job of matching with me with women who believe that following Jesus is an invitation to be crucified daily as we follow the call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. Other times, and more often than not, I get matched with people who understand their faith to be best proclaimed by using "God," "Jesus," "Lord," "Christ," and "the Bible" as often as possible in their profiles, just to make sure you know they pass the Christian litmus test of scarily obsessing about churchy stuff as a sign of dedication to God.
Here's where the cooking metaphor comes in. For me, faith is a marinade. I soak in it, I steep in it. It permeates who I am and what I do. I don't have to splash it all around for others to see, because they know its there when they experience who I am, what I do, and how I live, and it enriches my authentic, God-given self. For these girls on eHarmony, and I'm sure plenty of guys, faith is a sauce. You pour as much or as little of it onto the food as you'd like. It feels, sometimes, like a separate dish from the real meat of who you are, and pouring it on thick masks the flavor of the meat. All you can taste is the sauce; no matter how delicious it is, the beauty and integrity of the main dish is obscured. I know, when I make the official WORLD'S BEST PORK ROAST (ask me about it), that the pork is going to be the star, because it's flavored up just right, cooked well, and will taste like a well-cooked, delicious piece of pork. I can, and sometimes do, make a sauce to go with it...but the more of it you ladle on, the less you taste the pork, and I didn't sit down for supper just to eat some gravy with a nondescript, personality-free piece of pig meat. Give me the substance, and I'll tell you if it tastes like it's been flavored by faith, and serve the WWJD-bracelet-and-I-only-read-the-Bible gravy on the side, please.
My (mis)adventures in the world of online dating have led me to think a little bit about cooking as a realm loaded with faith metaphors. Let me explain. I've done eHarmony off and on for a few years now, and I've found one big problem with the logic of their matching system. You see, if you list faith/religion as a big priority for you in your life, you don't get a whole lot of control about setting belief parameters. I can't, for example, check the "progressive Christian" box rather than the "rigidly traditionalist Christian" box. Sometimes, eHarmony does a good job of matching with me with women who believe that following Jesus is an invitation to be crucified daily as we follow the call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. Other times, and more often than not, I get matched with people who understand their faith to be best proclaimed by using "God," "Jesus," "Lord," "Christ," and "the Bible" as often as possible in their profiles, just to make sure you know they pass the Christian litmus test of scarily obsessing about churchy stuff as a sign of dedication to God.
Here's where the cooking metaphor comes in. For me, faith is a marinade. I soak in it, I steep in it. It permeates who I am and what I do. I don't have to splash it all around for others to see, because they know its there when they experience who I am, what I do, and how I live, and it enriches my authentic, God-given self. For these girls on eHarmony, and I'm sure plenty of guys, faith is a sauce. You pour as much or as little of it onto the food as you'd like. It feels, sometimes, like a separate dish from the real meat of who you are, and pouring it on thick masks the flavor of the meat. All you can taste is the sauce; no matter how delicious it is, the beauty and integrity of the main dish is obscured. I know, when I make the official WORLD'S BEST PORK ROAST (ask me about it), that the pork is going to be the star, because it's flavored up just right, cooked well, and will taste like a well-cooked, delicious piece of pork. I can, and sometimes do, make a sauce to go with it...but the more of it you ladle on, the less you taste the pork, and I didn't sit down for supper just to eat some gravy with a nondescript, personality-free piece of pig meat. Give me the substance, and I'll tell you if it tastes like it's been flavored by faith, and serve the WWJD-bracelet-and-I-only-read-the-Bible gravy on the side, please.
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