transcending our smallness

Lee Stranahan: Embrace What You Have In Common With Rick Warren

Usually, I avoid commenting on this topic because it is so controversial and endlessly complex. I have to sympathize with the outrage that those in the LGTBQ community feel about the choice of Rick Warren to give the invocation at Obama's inauguration. But, let's give some credit to the fact that Obama also invited Rev. Lowery to give the closing prayer - and he supports gay marriage (sort of).

Honestly, I can't help but admire Obama for putting into practice his promise to welcome all people to the table, even if he fundamentally disagrees with them on some issues. I certainly don't agree with Obama on everything. I definitely don't agree with Warren on everything. But I respect that Warren has a credible moral voice on some issues like poverty in Africa and HIV/AIDS; his willingness to break rank with rank and file evangelical conservatives by reaching out to Obama is commendable.

At the same time (and I'm going to contradict myself here), I do wonder if if was necessary to pick a prominent pastor from CA who opposed Prop. 8, so soon after the election. There are certainly liberal or progressive evangelical pastors who might have been a better choice to bridge the divides in America ---- a Jim Wallis or Tony Campolo comes to mind. But then again, they have been fairly written off by conservative evangelicals, so it lacks the same punch. Is this pick needlessly divisive or a needed act of bridge building? Is it cynical pandering or a principled commitment to inclusivity despite difference?

I agree with Stranahan that we have very small politics in this country --- in fact, our politics are too small for problems that face us. We have to learn to work together. We have to learn to practice reconciliation and civil discourse. We have to learn how to see a fundamental goodness in people and give them the benefit of the doubt, even if we disagree with some of their ideas and opinions. And we have to rely on reason, genuine dialogue, and authentic relationship to create social change.

Did I support Prop. 8? No. I understand the justifiable hurt and outrage that so many in CA are experiencing right now. But do I support censoring and excluding people from the public sphere just because they happen to support it? No. Yeah, Obama could have picked a less "divisive" figure, but I still respect the courage that Warren and Obama are both showing as they break our old paradigms. Don't think that Warren isn't getting equally criticized from the right for supporting Obama on some positions. It's antithetical to some in the Christian community that Warren would be willing to engage in dialogue and friendship with someone who supports gay rights and is pro-choice. So, both Obama and Warren are getting hit from the right and the left. Personally, whenever, I see that happen, I think it's a good sign even if I might not have made the same choice in Obama's position; I think it is a healthy political climate when we can no longer box our leaders into dichotomous ideologies.


Stranahan says it best:

"in the long run this new politics benefits us all. Ironically, it benefits the minorities and marginalized and ill-treated the most. I know this may be hard for many to see right now but the truth is that this sort of symbol is what America needs. Not seeing just Warren on stage or just Lowery but seeing both of them of there at once.

Obama said it in the abstract time and again during the campaign. Now he's showing us. Seeing the things that Pastor Rick Warren and Reverend Joseph Lowery have in common is more important than seeing the things that separate them. America needs to see that. It's a step down the road where a majority of us see the things that straight Americans in love want are the same things that gay Americans in love want, too.

If you are mad about Rick Warren, I'm not attacking you. I understand your anger and I'm not saying it's not justified. But it's all right to let your anger go, too. It doesn't mean surrender, it doesn't mean giving up the struggle for equality.
It means doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. It means winning, right now - because the fight against hate starts whenever you want it, in your own heart. You can win a battle right now by not hating.

Can I get an amen?"

sleep in heavenly peace

Naming your dreams is scary --- I always go through this superstitious process that goes something like this. If I say out loud (or pray for) what I really really hope for or want or desire, than I risk being foolish, pretentious, or naïve. Who is to say that I deserve a particular path or dream? Rally, it’s just a complex way of not wanting to “jinx” my future, as if God is going to despise me or judge me for hoping. Despite all my platitudes about faith and trust, I truly have a hard time owning and naming my dreams before God and trusting that God has created me for a specific purpose and calling.

Anyway, yesterday, I drew out hopes for the new year on a piece of paper as an act of prayer.

Here are my New Year hopes and Advent stirrings:

For meaningful creative work, mentors and community

For opportunities to engage in exploration and self-expression

For the opportunity to engage ideas, to write, and bring together word and spirit in a facilitated way (i.e. graduate school)

I can’t help but still feeling a trace of guilt in this being my biggest hope right now – I mean really, it all seems so selfish and focused around me, even though my vision is that I will be prepared for service and ministry, and I long more than anything to work towards justice, reconciliation, and healing. I’m not sure where that voice comes from: the voice that accuses me and interrogates me, but I don’t think it's reality.

I love that verse that talks about the peace of God guarding our hearts and minds. I’ve come back to that often in the last few months. We really do need that peace beyond understanding to protect us from all the logical or illogical forces that threaten to steal our life, hope, and dreams.

I’m trying to breathe in that peace and offer it to those around me.

My Daughters/My Self - Judith Warner Blog - NYTimes.com

My Daughters/My Self - Judith Warner Blog - NYTimes.com

Why do I see so much of myself in this?

"Contemplation without justice, clinging to mystery without repairing the real world---is [work] unfinished."

dust storm

dust storm

dust storm

sick

Well, I finally have my first major cold of the season. I spent all of yesterday on the couch, and I'm feeling miserable.

the gift of praise

Just at the time when I have been doubting my own gifts, abilities, relevancy, and calling, I have been humbled and lifted up by the willingness of others to step out and advocate for me.

I find it difficult to see myself clearly right now. And yet, it’s always amazing when other people see you better than you can see yourself. People have the power to name light in you, even when you struggle to really believe and own it for yourself.

I just got to read a really beautiful recommendation on my behalf for graduate school this morning (my recommender prefers others to see what he writes about them to others – I like that integrity, I wonder if I could have it myself?)

The funny thing is how reading the recommendation made me feel. I felt encouraged, affirmed, accurately seen, and ultimately humbled by the ways that I had influenced others by just being who I am and living my life. Normally, it feels like I don’t know what I’m doing and how the different pieces of my life add up and whether it really matters, but it was nice to see that from an outside perspective the pattern of my life does make sense. My desire to live into complexity and enter into suffering, to be a reconciling force, is worth owning. I am living out what I love. And the Spirit which invigorates me is present and visible. That’s all I could ever hope for.

It’s nice to be seen.

What’s interesting is that I trust the perspective of my writer. That makes all the difference in the world. When you know the character and integrity of another and you trust them to honestly assess you, praise feels good. It’s a gift.

The most encouraging thing about the graduate school process – no matter what happens – is I’ve received so much honest support, encouragement, and advocacy from people I really respect. The type of support that I know would not be given if others did not believe in me. I’ve had a hard time feeling fully seen by my current community, but I’m blown away by people half-way across the country stepping up to bat for me; seeing me in ways that I have struggled to see myself the last year; reminding me of all that I carry within me; helping me connect past, present, and future. If any of my friends are reading this…THANK YOU!

It’s all reminded me again about the power of advocacy, but honest advocacy. I have to confess sometimes – especially in my work with students – I’m tempted to overpraise or to name something that is not there while at the same time not asking for responsibility and accountability. I’ve realized that this harms more than it helps. It cheapens the power of real affirmation and advocacy, and it doesn’t lend itself to empowerment. It’s also led to some disturbing lapses of judgment on my part. I know when this happens, my praise and affirmation has become more about my own ego or feeling needed, than a genuine desire to honestly help guide, mentor, and see the success of my students.

So, it’s important to guard praise carefully, to offer it generously when needed, and to go the extra mile for those you believe in. That’s at least the principle I’m trying to live out every day as work with students. And I have to say, I’m thankful for those who have modeled this to me. I’m grateful that when their praise has come it’s honest, it means something, I can trust it, and I can know that it’s for my benefit (not theirs).That’s the best gift in the whole world.

It makes me want to pass it on...actually, it makes me excited for future opportunities to use my influence to empower and support others. and it reminds me that I have those opportunities right now if I am careful and discerning.

chasing, aching

I’m afraid the usual winter shadow is upon me. Every day is measured in terms of better or worse. Still, I tend to end the day heavy. Lingering doubts and questions find their way to the surface. I wonder what it really means to wait expectantly?

I know I am yearning for change, but of what type? Change of scenery? Change of orientation? Change of belief?

I want miracles and transformation – I wonder why this longing. A longing to find and be found, a longing for a day when I – and the whole world – would give up our rights to power, privilege, and being right, and simply live alongside each other in loving community. But this vision seems more and more foolish every day.

Everywhere I look people are racing for power, for prestige, for greater clarity and certainty, for ideological shells and practiced identities forged at the expense of others. And it’s hard to deny that at least in the short term this route promises success, placement, comfort.

Residing in weakness, powerlessness, sorrow, and the desert of aching unanswered questions is not very much fun. I’m hoping that light will break through, but I have to be honest and admit that God’s idea of light shining in the darkness was to place God’s self in the tiny fragile shell of humanity and to live alongside us. He didn’t offer answers. He only asked us to come, follow, believe.

Frankly, right now, that doesn’t seem like enough. But at the same time, I can’t think of a better alternative. Or any alternative for that matter. Everything is vanity, chasing after the wind.

let it snow

It was 75 degrees in Texas today. I know I shouldn't complain, but this season doesn't feel complete without the combination of cold, darkness, and the deep brilliance of snow.

mystery

Well, the season of Advent is officially upon us. Today, mystery is on my mind. Yesterday, I read a delightful meditation by Kathleen Norris on the power of mystery and how impoverished faith becomes by our unwillingness to accept, prepare for, and anticipate mystery.

I woke up this morning wondering if I had lost my own capacity to imagine. It’s partly the season – winter is pure drudgery. We try to baptize it and call it waiting, but right now, I feel caught in a sea of endless boredom. Blues.

By all accounts, I live in a very religious city. And yet, this place feels like one of the most desolate places on earth. There is very little mystery here. Everyone is so attached to tradition, custom, routine. Christmas comes and passes with all the same old platitudes about the real meaning of the season. But do we really encounter mystery? Something that leaves us radically disoriented, shaken from our self-assuming foundations, shivering. Something akin to glory, awe, and terror.

I have to wonder –

Where are the dreamers?

Where are those waiting in sheer desperation?

And where are those beginning to ponder a life of unimaginable power growing inside them?