Showing posts from 2017

Ways of Knowing: Advent, Tarot, and the Moon

I feel, so often, that my self is kind of a strange dichotomy. I am in seminary, currently on a path toward Christian ordination. The rhythms of the liturgical year are etched deeply in my soul, and right now it's Advent, the Christian pre-Christmas season of darkness, preparation and waiting. Yet the rhythms of the earth & sky are embedded in me just as deeply, and the Winter Solstice means even more to me spiritually than Christmas does.

I'm pretty sure both of these attachments and longings point toward a mystical core deep inside of me that's been papered over and stepped on and plastered and bricked up by the rationalistic-logical world of patriarchy. But layer by layer, I'm unearthing her. Through connections I've made in seminary and outside of it, in spiritually-oriented women's circles, I've begun to embrace a femme epistemology. Femme is a kind of queer femininity, and epistemology means a way of knowing and learning. It means I am turning to…

Secret Places

is about to change.
it already has.

It will be. It was. It is.

The dawn you eagerly await
to end the long, cold darkness
is already full sun
far off in the east.

Yet even after light’s return
spring is months away.
Thirty long years pass
after His birth
before the Messiah comes.

Stones of justice
have been tossed in the lake
but their ripples have not yet arrived,
have not resolved into the kin-dom
already present among us.

While we wait, let us seek
—in the darkness of
the Now and Not Yet—
for the treasures God has hidden there,
the riches of the secret places
only found by night.

This is what is promised us:
the wheel of life turns ever on
and darkness is a path to joy.

(Originally published in the UUCF Good News Journal, Winter ‘17)

Two Jesuses, a Good Friday reflection

Originally published in the Unitarian Universalist Christian Fellowship's Holy Week email series.

From Matthew 27...
“At that time they had a notorious prisoner, called Jesus Barabbas. … 
The governor again said to them, “Which of the two do you want me to release for you?” 
And they said, “Barabbas.” 
Pilate said to them, “Then what should I do with Jesus who is called the Messiah?”
All of them said, “Let him be crucified!”

Did you know there were two Jesuses facing crucifixion on what has come to be known as Holy or “Good” Friday? Barabbas, a fellow rebel against the Roman powers, appears in all four gospel stories, but only in Matthew 27 do we get the proper name of this man, whom Pilate releases.

The Jewish Annotated New Testament explains that Barabbas means “son of a father.” Christ, or Messiah, is a title meaning “the anointed one” and is used to refer to kings in the Ancient Near East, whose power was consecrated by anointing with oil.

Of course, Jesus Christ wasn’t a king, but…

Making room

Darling, is there room for me?
Or are you all full up?

Full of pain
Full of sorrow
of regret

The desert is sapping you
wringing you out
Your thoughts pour forth
as you wander
You lament out loud
your sorrows
You sweat and cry
until you're empty

Only now
after you've exhaled
is there space in your lungs
in your heart
for me

For breath
For love
For hope
For life

Breath work

Sweetheart, breathe
In. In. In. In.
Hold it now




Out now, quickly
Out some more
Get it all out.

Good. Good.
One more time.
Back to the beginning now.

When you're ready
Come back here
Quietly return

You'll be ok
We'll be ok
We just have to
keep breathing.


Honey, I hear you
praying for rain
But the dry heat
will not relent

Lying prostrate
utterly spent
You stare into the sky
and curse the wind

It answers back:
Who told you
you must wander here?
If you're thirsty

Impossible. Unbearable.
But find the hope
that fueled your prayers
Let that drive your action

You scratch at the sand
(until your fingernails tear)
and it begins to give way
to chalk, then clay

The mud
clings to your hands
It is so messy
and you
are so tired

Rest, my love
You've done the work
All that's left is to wait
by this hole
as the water seeps up
and in from the ground
collecting at the bottom
of your little well


Darling, it's time now
You have enough
You are enough

And you can't do it alone

The desert will be treacherous
You know this, and you're prepared
You've stocked up with critical supplies--

Burn cream, bandages, antiseptic
Your bag is overflowing
and you're still packing
Determined to be able
to handle any wound

that's enough.
You have enough.

You can't carry any more.

I've stocked up, too
for the dangerous desert
For hot, dry days
and freezing nights

I have enough water for weeks
My bag is overflowing with food
I've even packed a blanket
that can turn into a tent

But should I be injured
my wounds will fester
I have no bandages, no cream
Despite all this water
I'll die in the desert

I can't make it alone

I need you, darling
And you need me
Bandage me up
and drink of my water

We can do this

Not ashes

Sweetheart, I know
You have been traveling
such a long time

You came through fire to get here
and so there is no going back
But you don't have a map
and all that seems to be ahead
is more terrible desert

Sweetheart, I know
You wonder how you can go on
When you already feel
so scorched and broken

But what you have to understand is
You're not ashes yet

I cannot promise you
there'll be no more burning
But I can tell you
you won't travel alone

Here and Now

Dear One,
This is where you belong
And you
were made for this

I know
the scorching heat
everything you've ever loved

But you know
inside the dust of your bones
     from earth and stars
how to turn burning
into life

No other place
is safer, cooler
frozen without fire
No other place
is home

This is where you belong
And you
were made for this

Ash Wednesday for UU kids

Beloved Children,

Today is Ash Wednesday, and the beginning of the church season called Lent.

Christians usually think about Ash Wednesday and Lent in terms of sin, God, and repentance. I'm going to use different words, but for me, they mean the same thing.

Ash Wednesday is a special time to remember that all living things are part of one big family, and everything we do affects everything that happens. Unitarian Universalists sometimes use the word "interconnected." (For some people, this is part of what God means.) Part of what makes us a family is that we all come from the same stuff--earth and stars-- and we will all go back to being just that stuff someday. Everything that lives, dies, and Ash Wednesday reminds us of that (some people get ashes on their forehead or hands to remind them), it reminds us that WE will die, one day.

How does it feel, when you know that you'll die?

Some people get sad when they think about dying. Some people feel scared. Some people f…

of Dust

Beloved, remember:
From dust
you have come--

not only
the dust of this planet
but also the dust
of the stars
for you and your Mother
share a common ancestor
and a common fate:
To dust you shall return

The Earth may
or may not
know her fate
Yet still she is busy
with her living--
Creating, renewing,
growing, transforming
Holding death and life
like twins in her womb

But you DO know
when you slow down
(And maybe that's why
you so rarely slow down):
You're destined for dust

The heat is growing
unbearably fast
Hold on with Earth
through the burning--
Create, renew, transform
and when it's over

may the dust that remains
shimmer with the vibrancy
your life inherited from the stars