Jesus Made Me Do it; or, why I pierced my nose

I'm preparing to deliver a sermon this Saturday at the Texas Festival of Young Preachers.  From the provided list, I chose Jeremiah 7:1-7 as my text:

This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Stand at the gate of the Lord’s house and there proclaim this message:

“‘Hear the word of the Lord, all you people of Judah who come through these gates to worship the Lord.  This is what theLord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: Reform your ways and your actions, and I will let you live in this place.  Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord!”  If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly,  if you do not oppress the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm,  then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your ancestors for ever and ever. 

Try as I might, I can't avoid the fact that Jeremiah is the character in the Bible with whom I identify the strongest.  Yes, Jeremiah, the one who made his name by acting ridiculous, ranting about things no one wanted to hear, standing at the gate, and reaching out to the Outsiders.  I like to think I'm a little less insane than Jeremiah, but it's doubtful.

The truth is, the reason I love Jeremiah so much is that he gave God full control over his life, even when he did it begrudgingly.  Over the last couple years, and especially now that I'm a YAV, I've striven to cede control of even the most banal aspects of my life -- what I eat, what I wear, where I live, how I get to work. Like Jeremiah, I've felt pulled towards unpopular choices, not only taking a vow of poverty, but also sticking a big piece of metal right in the center of my face.  (Yes, my mother hates it; no, it didn't hurt.)

Like the prophet's unorthodox clothing choices and spiels against the rich, my septum piercing helps me identify outwardly and openly with the people I'm here to serve.  And so I honestly don't care what the folks on velvet pews behind stained glass windows think; I didn't do it for them.  I did it because I'm an Outsider, Jesus was an Outsider, and the people I serve are Outsiders.  I'm committed to following my call down to the smallest aspect, even if it means eating beans and rice every other day and looking a little strange in a church.

How blessed I am that the Spirit pushes me and gives me peace.

Peace of Christ!

I'm a real intern!

Forgive me for another late post!  The AYAVA house internet was wonky all weekend and I wasn't able to sign on.

As promised, a (somewhat) funny anecdote: about a budget hearing!  And let's face it, budget hearings are always a hoot, particularly four hour ones at the state capitol.

Never in a million years would I have expected my time as a missionary to be spent listening to the director of Texas State Health and Human Services describe his plans for the next two fiscal years.  The hearing started at 8:30, which is as much proof as anything that sometimes governments can be straight-up evil; I was there to hear my boss deliver his testimony about why the Kerrville State Hospital shouldn't be privatized at the end of the meeting, so I was in for the long haul.  Both of us had missed our coffee, and I was seriously suffering.  Finally, about ninety minutes in, my boss texted me:
Could you go get us some coffee?
I nearly fainted with joy.  Also fatigue.

He passed me the organization's card and I walked across the capitol grounds to the cafeteria.  As I stood there, filling two giant cardboard cups with mediocre coffee and trying to remember if he wanted sugar or cream, I had a realization.
I'm a real intern now!

I was so excited I texted both of my parents.

Blessings of Christ and coffee, and peace of the Spirit!

On “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”

            Some thoughts have been weighing on me that I need to share.  I hope you’ll all forgive me for a long and somewhat less personal post – I promise to come up with some funny anecdotes for the Sunday update.

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it now, and you will probably hear me say it again: it is always time to do what is right.  It is always time to fight for human rights, support the liberation of the oppressed, and give voice to the silenced.

The source to which I turn most frequently (excepting, of course, the Bible, the Book of Order, and the Book of Confessions) is Martin Luther King Jr’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”, written in response to cries from the white Southern church that the courageous fighters of the Civil Rights Movement slow down, that they wait until it was less socially divisive, that they wait for a time that was more politically advantageous.  In the most beautiful, powerful, and straight-forward way, Dr. King sounded the call to action that has not lost any of its significance.

The passages from this letter that speak most strongly to me are those in which King speaks directly to the church (some of which I have included below).  I’ve been sent into a mission that isn’t politically popular which can be extremely draining.  In my heart I know that human rights should not be a political issue, but still I hear rhetoric from all sides that dehumanizes the people for whom I am working (immigrants, detainees, and prisoners) by addressing them as an issue rather than as human beings.  My own organization is often hesitant to work with conservative groups because of the harsh platforms of the Republican Party; as a result, many are skeptical of churches and Christians because of our reluctance to commit to this struggle.

I hope you all will continue to pray for me as I confront extremely troubling aspects of our society.  Peace of Christ be with you all.

From "Letter from a Birmingham Jail":

But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves the church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen.

[…]

In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? 

Rain and rain and rain

Austin -- which was sunny and 100 degrees for the first three weeks we were here -- has been rainy and dreary since Friday.  I've adapted to getting so much sunlight that I can feel the soggy weather weighing on my mood, and it's been an effort to stay present in my work and community because of it.  How blessed I am to have awesome housemates who are totally down for rainy day activities -- yesterday we went to a used bookstore and we just finished watching Hairspray (I sang along).

Blame my short post on the weather.  The week overall has been fairly uneventful; next week my organization has some big meetings and I'll be helping prepare for those.

Peace of Christ!

Peace and Filing (two days late)

Filing: a missionary's worst nightmare.  And, coincidentally, what most of my work week has consisted of.

Not just filing.  Filing huge stacks of semi-organized papers.  Filing confirmation of a bureaucratic over-reliance on abusing natural resources.  Filing and reading page after page of evidence of how unjust our justice system is.  Earlier this week, I came across heart-wrenching letters between an inmate and his mother that brought me to tears; I had to step outside and call my mom before I could face those documents again.

None of this is to say that I don't do other things, or that the filing I'm doing isn't important.  I love my job, I believe in my organization, and I have awesome coworkers.    But when I stepped into the office on Monday, all I could see were thousands and thousands of pages to be read, sorted, and put away.

After hours and hours of work, the sea of paper has finally melted down into a neatly organized filing cabinet.  Unlike most aspects of the non-profit life, this effort has yielded a tangible result, and one of which I am immensely proud.  Out of all this frustration I have found an immense source of peace -- that I did that.  Not only did I help my organization be a little more efficient, but I learned so much about it as I read and put away allllll those pages.

I thought about asking my coworker to take a picture of me with said filing cabinet for this blog, but I decided that would be too weird.  You'll just have to imagine a picture of a very happy me standing next to an admitted drab piece of office furniture.

Peace of Christ!

By the way...

http://www.grassrootsleadership.org/blog/2012/09/grassroots-leadership-welcomes-piper-madison/

Kairos time

Two anecdotes and a reflection:

On Thursday, the bus I take to work passed me by without stopping; the next bus came twenty minutes later, and I got to work late and sweaty.  Luckily my boss is very flexible about my hours, but the frustration of sitting powerlessly in the Austin sun for half an hour left me sunburned and in a cranky mood.

This morning I was late to church when a member of my caravan showed up ten minutes after we were supposed to leave.  Normally I'm calm about being a few minutes late, but knowing I was missing the beginning of a church service made me extremely anxious.  If I had been the driver, I would have left the tardy worshipper behind; fortunately for him, the driver has much more patience than I do.  One of the seminarians in the car reminded me that we cannot rely on our own, human time -- chronos time -- but that we need to give ourselves up to God's time -- kairos time.  Although it was hard to see in the moment, it was much more important for all of us to go to worship than for me to arrive promptly at 11.


My transportation foibles are the most obvious example of being beholden to another's schedule, but my days are filled with things that force me to work around or depend on someone else -- working in an office, living in an intentional community, planning and participating in meetings.  God willing, this year will help me find the balance between chronos and kairos in my daily life, being prompt when I need to be and at peace when I can be.


This is a great resource on chronos/kairos time.

Peace of Christ!

And so it begins...

I'm two days into my job at Grassroots Leadership and four bus rides into my foray in public transportation!  So far I haven't made any grave errors with either -- knock on wood.

My position at GL is somewhat ambiguous and so far consists of
   1) begin outreach to faith communities
   2) whatever else needs to be done.
Since my first day at the office was also the organization's first day in that office, "whatever else" spans a pretty wide range of things, from unpacking and breaking down boxes to getting quotes for business cards to shivering under my blazer because we haven't quite figured out the climate control yet.  Luckily there are only three of us, which means that I can always find something that needs to be done (and I already know everyone's name!)

My biggest fear going into a new job was that I would feel incompetent; it didn't help that I had no idea what I'd be doing until I actually got there.  My anxieties were only exacerbated by the fact that I'd be taking the bus to get there -- until yesterday morning, I had never taken a public bus before and I've rarely ridden public transportation at all, much less alone.  I never thought that riding a bus would be a religious experience, but the last week has truly taught me what it means to pray without ceasing: not just "dear God, help me get off at the next stop" or "dear God, we almost hit that man!" but "dear God, thank you for courage and reliable bus routes."  And, of course, we are fully equipped for everything God calls us to do and I am fully equipped for my new job, even for finding out what that means.

I'm going to plan on updating on Wednesdays and Sundays from here on out.  No promises...the best laid plans...

Peace of Christ!