There's a wall - what do we do now?

Where do we go now?

Well, today ABCPSW was voted out...by the regional church delegates (that is the conservative region of American Baptist Churches of the Pacific SouthWest held a vote to leave the denomination - read more about it here).

As one of the delegates present in SLO, I couldn't help but think how painful the thing is. It feels like a child deciding to disown his/her parents. Wrong. Terribly, utterly, awfully wrong.

I don't like the things PSW has done, nor do I like the direction the region has been going on the issues which have caused us to come to this point. That said, division doesn't do anyone good. It only serves to bring us further along an unhealthy path. Humans are social creatures. We function best together. It is the same way in an organization. The hand doesn't say to the foot, 'I don't need you any more, goodbye!' and leave. Ridiculous. Absurd. Yet, this is what happened today.

It caused me to think about my place in the Church.

Where do I go? What do I do? With whom do I align? I just don't know. As someone who grew up in the church with 2 minister parents, it is a difficult question. I love God. I love the teachings of Jesus. I love the way. I do not love the Church. It is a corrupt and awful institution that has created much evil and heartbreak in its path. Dating back to Constantine... when Christianity became a state religion, we can see the wake of pain. I wash my hands of this blood.

As this century begins, there is a calling, a need, a longing for a new kind of worship. There is a searching for wholeness and healing, a cure for division and pain wrought by the Church. A house divided cannot stand. Let me tell you, a new house is being built. A new way, and the same way as ever is being shown. Let us close our eyes and leap out into the abyss of unknowing. Let us take a step in this new direction. Let us walk the Way. Let us walk the only Way, in truth and light, in healing and hope. Let us tear down barriers, destroy borders. Let us be plants that reclaim the cemented sidewalk.

We will be like the German people at the Berlin Wall in 1989 - re-creating a whole Berlin. The Chinese can tell you that walls do not work. They are not defensible. They are not practical. They serve as projects of unhealthy isolation - a psychological crutch for those who build them. They never stop the onslaught of steppe peoples to the north from running into Chinese territories. Let us blast through these walls with love and understanding. Let us forge alliances, and stand on common ground.

I extend my hands to the people on the otherside. I open my arms to the margins. Join me. Join us - people like me around the country and the world. There is a call, a longing, a seeking. We will build this house together, stronger than before...
We will be mustard plants in the farmer's fields. No one can cut us out...no one can stop us from spreading the message, the word, the love. The REAL love. Agape. Our hearts are on fire. Love for people. This is the new order. This is the new direction. This will be the new proving ground. Come with me. It's time to leap.

God sometimes you just don't come through...

"Do you need a woman to look after you?...oh God sometimes you just don't come through." That's a portion of the chorus from Tori Amos' song God. That song expresses some of the hopelessness that alot of young people feel who have grown up in the faith. To address some of those issues, I've started a spirituality group for 20 somethings that meets on Thursdays at 8pm in Mojo's Coffee. As a group, we hope to address questions and struggles around God and spirituality in general.

It's a brand-spanking-new thing, so we're not sure exactly how it will take shape. That all depends on the group present. After all, it is for the people present, and so will be taylored for them and by them (similar to the name of a certain clothing line - hinthintnudgenudge - for us by ___). I'm only playing the role of a facilitator, monitoring discussion, and so I'm not asking the questions.

My vision is that it becomes it's own animal, and really takes on a life of it's own. I think it will. Time and love are the two most important factors. We'll see.

Who knows what life brings? Who knows how the spirit will move? Yet, I know it does. I can see it as the marble is cut away to reveal the form inside.

Faded Photographs

It's sad when someone gives something up without a fight - or so they say. I mean, "don't it always seem you don't know what you got til it's gone." The funny thing about memory is that you sometimes forget the reasons why you did things. You only remember the things that made you feel good... or the spectacularlly bad situation which is the stuff of legend. If there is no spectacularlly bad thing, you only remember smiles, kisses, hugs, and sweet nothings. And eventually, you even forget that.

While I was in Pennsylvania I had the opportunity to look at old family photos. Unlike some families that organize their photos in scrapbooks and albums, these were just piled into boxes. That tradition continued into my immediate family, and I suppose, ended with me. In any case, photo boxes tell just as much as albums. I learned some things about my family that I had never imagined.

Now, these things were not large all encompassing things. They weren't silly stories, or long lost dreams. I saw photos of my dad's ex-girlfriend from highschool. There was even a picture of them kissing. She looked kind of like my mom, but more plain and with a rounder face. I asked about it. I mean, why, after all these years (most of which my dad has been married to my mom, and only ever my mom) did these photos still reside in my grandparents' photo boxes? It seemed a strange thing. My dad confessed that she was an on-again/off-again. Apparently there had been several times when he had dated this particular girl. She must have stuck in his head a little more than most, because even after having met my mother (before they became very serious) he talked about this girl. But of course, he met my mother.

It got me thinking about relationships in a way that I hadn't before. There's always one before. There's always one that gets mentioned again. It colors our experiences afterwards. But it's just a color - and with repeated exposure to sunlight and sometimes spilled coffee, it disappears entirely.

I uprooted my plumeria. It just didn't fit in the soil. I was worried it would get too much sun and dry out, or drown in the water of an unusually wet winter. It happened so fast, it was almost as though it was swallowed by the marine layer. He stopped talking. He stopped writing. I stopped calling. Right now, of course, I'm nursing the hurt of realization. I'm nursing the hurt that he didn't care enough to fight or to say how much he cared, or how this was painful for him to realize too. I was greeted with silence. Silence says so much it's scary sometimes. And here I am, trying to comfort myself by talking, talking into silence.

I'm nursing the pain so my selective memory hasn't yet set in. I'm still waiting for the negative memories to fade, and leave me with all sweet nothings that were dealt in glances and furtive hand holdings. And then, someone will come along. Someone always does. They will be bigger and brighter than the morning star. They will fade the memories with time and exposure.

Some day a child of mine will come upon my slim album where I collect pictures of meaningful people and ask about this one. "He was my on-again/off-again." "I was still talking about him when I met your father." "Yes, that shirt was a terrible idea." "No, I only wore that dress once." "I don't remember what we did, I don't remember what we said." "You look just like me." "You're doing the same thing I did." "Don't let this discourage you, we all go through it." The silence of the photo gives way to the laughter of a lover.

Conquer-The-World Heels

Sometimes you need to clean house. Sometimes you need to clean house a big way. I was in Pennsylvania for a week, and it kicked my house-cleaning into high gear.

To get anything done, you need to be able to say it out loud. You need to be able to articulate a thing. It took me until this trip to be able to articulate the things I really wanted.

It started with articulated goals. Just ask yourself, what do you want in 3 years? 5? 10?

Well, I finally answered that series of questions. When you really focus on the things you want, jobs, friends, hobbies, spouse, etc. it often causes you to change the direction that you were going. I for example, figured out that I will probably surround myself with a lot of suits. Suits mean dressing up and entertaining. They also mean a spouse that can handle the situation. Needless to say, I bought a copy of Pink Magazine.

That was just the beginning. I bought heels. Not just any kind of heels, but conquer-the-world heels. When I first showed my dad the shoes, he thought they were "f***-me pumps." Well, the shoes I got are not coated in vinyl or rubber. They're leather. On some women, heels are always f***-me pumps. It has to do with how a woman carrys herself. Other women, heels are always conquer-the-world heels. It's not really about the shoes, it's about ambition, intelligence, and passion. It's the difference between a bar-fly and a board director. I'll be the latter. When I bought those shoes it wasn't about choosing a shoe, it was about actively choosing a life-style.

Whenever you choose a new path you have to clean house. You change the way you frame yourself and your world. You change the places you eat and the clothing you wear. You change the way you speak. You get rid of flings and instead pursue serious interests. You bring closure to incompletes which allows you to open new doors that never before existed. This path is only a continuation of a choice I made mid-high school when I gave up my slacker friends for the top 10% of the class. At first it was painful, but slowly it gave way to liberation and to things that I really wanted. Here's to new beginnings. I'll sip my syrah and kick-back in my conquer-the -world heels.