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Showing posts from 2017

Ways of Knowing: Advent, Tarot, and the Moon

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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

Waiting for Now

Everything is about to change. And 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. The promised land waits so far from the sea of liberation— and Thirty long years pass after His birth before their Messiah will come. 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 as “Secret Places” 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, Jes

Making room

Darling, is there room for me? Or are you all full up? Full of pain Full of sorrow Full 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 Hold Hold Hold 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.

Thirst

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 Dig. 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

Enough

Darling, it's time now Understand: 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 Darling, 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 Together

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 threatens everything you've ever loved But you know       inside the dust of your bones      inherited       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

of Dust

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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 Earth 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