observe:

In church you are not supposed to say "Yes indeed I DID notice how the guest speaker is built...it is obvious that he works out...and my, it shows!"

And yet, that is exactly what I heard myself saying to Karen Friday morning as we were leaving a Good Friday service. Where is the icon for embarrased smiley face when you really need it?

OK, true confessions. (Sorry, John. I really do love you and really do think you are one good looking guy!)

gut and faith, head and heart

i am told that the preacher where we used to go to church talked about the Schiavo case (husband wants to remove the feeding tube from his wife, who is physically incapable--some claim that she is brain dead--of feeding herself) for the bible study class last wednesday. i've spent many a sunday and wednesday hour sitting in a pew listening to this guy opine so i have no trouble imagining the nature of his rambling monologue.

at the end of the 'class' one member raised her hand and said she'd like to study the issue again the following week, only this time, with "scripture" involved.

both approaches miss the mark.

on the one hand, you form thoughts and opinions without consideration of whether or how your conclusions reflect your faith.

on the other hand, you form thoughts and opinions based on biblical text without considering whether or how your conclusions reflect your gut feelings.

people who rely soley upon gut feeling and a few facts to guide their thinking ignore that tension just as people who rely base their opinion on biblical text do.

gut and faith, head and heart.

where does spiritual maturity come from if not out of an exploration of the tensions between your faith, your emotions, and your head?

In Memory of SLF

SLF died last Monday, March 7, 2005. She was 55. She lived a life filled with sadness, pain, sorrow, illness. There was joy, too (but not enough, from my point of view). She is survived by two children, two grandchildren and several former in-laws.

There has been no obituary posted. It seems as though there may not be one.

From third-hand accounts we heard that she did not die in her sleep, as first reported. Instead, we heard, that she was found dead in a pool of blood. Then we heard: she fell, hit her head, and died. The latest news: she died of a drug overdose. A medication overdose. It gets worse.

Here is to SLF. A woman who deserves to be mourned. A woman whose loss is keenly felt, even if only by some who barely knew her. Pray for those who loved her well, those who should have loved her better, and the rest of them, whatever it was they felt for her...it was not what it should have been.

R.I.P.

more squirrel poop

About Ashley Smith, the lady who befriended Brian Nichols, the guy charged with shooting four people in a courthouse in Atlanta on Friday, Mar. 11:

From the stories I have read, I gather that she responded to Mr. Nichols in a very Christ-like manner. She knew he was an accused rapist and murderer and was still willing to connect with him as a fellow human being. The news reports that she made pancakes for him and the fact that she used real butter went straight to Nichols' heart.

Reminds me of something our daughter said a few weeks ago upon seeing the video of an acquaintance robbing a bank. She said it made her want to cry, seeing that grainy photo and thinking of all the dreams he had. He had only recently been released from prison. He had high hopes for his future until he was denied admission to a local college. Next stop: robbed a bank.

The investigator thought she was nuts. The investigator was not looking at a man on film. He was looking at a man with a rap sheet.

But that's his job. He's supposed to do that. He's a good investigator because he includes all the information he has available when he looks at a suspect.

You could say that the investigator is supposed to see the squirrel poop (reference yesterday's blog). Somehow this ties back to Ashley Smith and God and how we treat each other and church and how we behave.

What I really want to say here is that I am glad for Brian Nichols that for just that one little piece of time he saw hope.

I hope that his victims and their families are also blessed with that same hope.

the dog is outside rolling in squirrel poop

and i went to church this morning. the one down the street. (i have this sense that church should be part of a neighborhood so am checking out churches which are foot-traffic accessible.)

so many churches locate themselves where they are accessible only by automobile. it makes me wonder what it means about us, and about the church, when a congregation chooses to make itself accessible by automobile only.

what is the rationale behind buying acres and acres of land, then plopping a building in the middle of it so that the only way to get there on foot is to walk, walk, walk through long stretches of driveway and parking lot?

the church where we used to go had a wonderful neighborhood location. it was in a mixed section of town. densly populated, many poor families, run-down neighborhood. but we, the owner-congregation, did not really want those people in our church. some of them smelled. some were mentally ill. some didn't dress right.

they weren't us. they were them.

and none of them seemed to know or care about the rules: show up on time, three times a week. leave your troubles at the door. don't ask the wrong questions. don't ask for help.

the truth is, i wasn't all that cool about it, either. i was ok with smelly (mostly) and under-dressed. i was ok with the one obviously mentally ill guy who attended. but i was not ok with serious family problems.

i was not ok with accusations and suspicions of child ual abuse. because of our involvement with several of these struggling families, i heard a lot of stuff. i saw stuff that corroborated some of what i heard.

how do you respond to that? do you put an escort policy in place? do you become policy-driven and begin institutionalizing relationships? call social services? offer to pray with the accused?

Problem Solved when the hit the fan and the messy families stopped coming to the church. which only meant that the families who did not know enough to park their ills at the door stopped coming. the congregation shrank back to its normal, white, conservative, we-are-sinners-but-not-THAT-kind composition.

so i visited the church down the street this morning. it's a larger congregation. lots of older people. they all seem to know about dressing properly on Sunday morning. the service was typical, formulaic, predictable.

what do i want? do i want safe, predictable, perfect Sunday Christians? (of course) Do i want the comfort, security and complacency that comes with that? (no way. there is a contradiciton here)

God, how can I be of any service to the pained, struggling Christians in our world—not the ones who look like me, but the ones whose troubles, sin and fear runs so deep that i cannot even understand the language?

can i serve you through a congregational setting that does not/cannot/will not acknowledge these strangers/neighbors of ours? i believe that we are charged to serve those in the world who so disturb me in so many sad and painful ways.

for that reason i continue to pray that you overlook my reluctance, strengthen my weakness, increase my ability to love as you love, and act in accordance with your will, not mine.

so the dog is outside rolling in squirrel poop. he has always rolled in squirrel poop, he will always roll in squirrel poop. if i don't like it i can kill all the squirrels, not ever let the dog out in the yard, beat him when he rolls in it...but the second i turn my back, he will roll in the first pile of squirrel poop he finds.

so maybe i love him for being the dog he is, keep an eye on him, give him a bath when he gets too smelly, and learn to live with him. squirrel poop and all.

All this to post a reply?

i wonder if tomorrow i will remember what and where this is?

i wonder if some of the thoughts wandering through my head will end up here?

i wonder what happened to the comment i started out to make?