An Old Emergence

“To take a life when a life has been lost is revenge, not justice.” –Desmond Tutu My mind is racing to so many places tonight. I just don’t know where solace can be found. I want so badly to write some great, insightful response to the travesty of justice that was the execution of Troy Davis. But all I have in my heart is sadness.

As summer appears to be stretching fervently into September, I am reminded how much I despise hot weather. After spending eight weeks on the road this summer working for Passport Camps (half of which was spent in the blistering 3-digit degree temperatures of Dallas), I am officially home and have moved on to the next season of my life.

It is fairly disheartening to have a vision but no means to achieve it. Barriers seem to multiply the closer you get to true revelation, but none is so discouraging as age. It seems like everywhere I turn lately I am confronted with the fact that my young age keeps people from taking what I have to say seriously.

In the days and weeks to come, I will have a more measured response to the tragedies of the last week. From the utter destruction in my home state of Alabama to the grievous celebrations surrounding the assassination of Osama bin Laden; it is truly a time for reflection and mourning. There are many conversations that must happen regarding faith and disaster, justice and murder, “good” and “evil”.

I alluded to something in my post yesterday about the person of Judas. As tomorrow marks the observance of Maundy Thursday, I find myself contemplating the progression of events that led to Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. As I was reading through the story a few days ago, I was struck by something that I had never really taken notice of before.

Let me be clear from the outset of this post: I thoroughly enjoy Lady Gaga’s music. I love that she advocates for the rights of LGBT people. I love that she is an entertainer, and that her music tells a story…even if that story is often just plain weird. I would give just about anything to meet her and/or attend one of her concerts. I find her music both provocative and addicting. However, Gaga is not a religious scholar.

Sunday begins the arduous five-day journey to Good Friday. The tradition in which I grew up never paid much attention to the liturgical calendar, so it has only been in the last few years that I have stumbled upon the greater Lenten tradition. Of course, along the way, I began to work out my own personal theology. This means that every Easter, I am forced to contemplate what the Atonement really means to me, as well as the language I use to talk about it.

I find myself spending a lot of time loathing the Spring…despite my best efforts to the contrary. To be sure, I love the blooming flowers and the greening trees, but the pollen count does me in.

Isn’t this a strange time of year? I remember how the third quarter of every school year was always the worst. Even in college, the first half of the spring semester always seemed to drag along. It was like the second half winter was intentionally more dismal than other times of the year.

In May of 2009 I was able to visit South Africa for a second time. While there, my group had the opportunity to visit the Cathedral Church of St. George the Martyr. This was the cathedral at which Desmond Tutu performed his duties as Archbishop of South Africa. Up until that point, I had only ever studied labyrinths and had never actually walked one. There in the courtyard of the cathedral was a beautiful stone labyrinth. I am an experiential worshipper, which is why I think it was such a powerful encounter for me. Here I was in one of my favorite cities (Cape Town), at the church of a modern saint. And so I made the only choice one has to make upon discovering a labyrinth: whether to enter or not.

This year for Lent, I am not really focusing on giving anything up. Instead, I am focusing on ways to improve the way I live my life. While there is a definite spiritual component (which I’ll get to), the bulk of my focus is on my physicality. I am being intentional about the way I eat. While there are many different scripture passages that deal with food, I am always drawn to the passage at the end of the sixth chapter of 1 Corinthians: “You must know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is within you – the Spirit you have received from God…So glorify God in your body.” (The Inclusive Bible) This speaks to more than just food, but to fitness, about the body as a whole. It doesn’t point out gluttony or drunkenness. So often those passages are used to call alcohol evil or are twisted to change the meaning of gluttony to focus on material things. So instead of looking at those kinds of scripture, I like that the writer of 1 Corinthians reminds us that our bodi

I wrote a blog this morning responding to the tragedy in Japan and the entire Pacific Rim. It was poorly written and emotional. I am not saying that is bad. Tragedy occurring during Lent has become a bit of a hot-button issue for me. So while I affirm my frustrations and the difficulty of understanding why tragedies seem to go hand-in-hand with this particular liturgical season in my life, I don’t really feel like ranting against God or bemoaning my state of existence does anyone any good. And so I deleted it. Instead, today let us take moments to lift prayer to whomever we pray for the loss felt around our world today and for the recovery of those who have lost everything.

holy god who suffers with us, suffers for us, suffers because of us place your arms around us and hold us tight

One of the three women I have the blessing to call “Pastor” has a way with words like no one else I know. Her name is April, and she is the co-pastor of Glendale Baptist Church in Nashville, TN. Now that I’ve moved away from Nashville, I rely on copious email communication to keep April in my life on a regular basis. Every email, in addition to having a reply to my question, concern, or rant, has bits of wisdom and spiritual direction woven in.

Over the last three weeks I have had the opportunity to spend some time with the youth group at my new church, Baptist Church of the Covenant. We have been participating in what is a yearly event at BCOC called “School for Christian Living” during which time the church restructures its normal Sunday school hour into a three-hour seminar. This time is broken into two sessions with a lunch break in between.

I got the opportunity to spend four days in Nashville last week. It was indescribably wonderful to hang out with my friends whom I miss terribly. I really do have the best friends in the world. The laughter, the hugs, the deep conversations…all were things I needed more than I realized. But along the way I began to discover something that shocked me. I actually began to miss home. I really don’t like Birmingham. Compared to Nashville, it just isn’t a particularly exciting place to live. Yet I’ve started to make it my life. Now that I have (almost) fully moved into my new living space, I feel like I’m here for the long haul.

Breathe deep. Relax. Bask in this moment. This is a Holy Space, a Space meant for us to let go. Stretch your legs, your arms, the knotted muscles of your spirit. We have run swiftly, with vigor, with passion, with purpose. There have been obstacles. The path has not always been smooth. And we have been worn low. But in this space, we can be refreshed. In this space, we can encounter a fountain of life that renews. In this space we may worship with all of who we are. We may inhabit the fullness of our creation. All that separates us falls away and we are equal before Yahweh. Beyond this moment, as we continue our worship in the daily patterns of life, may we immerse ourselves in the mystery of the Holy, and may we always seek to dwell where love is the language most spoken and peace is the path most taken. May it be so. May it be so.

Almost two years ago, a good friend of mine asked me why I thought it was so important to use inclusive language in the church. I don’t remember exactly how I responded, but I remember that my answer was less-than-stellar. I didn’t know how to put into words why I thought it important, just that I knew it was. But now, having studied more about this issue, I am far more prepared to defend my choice.

Today we honor the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was a life lived in peace, and a life spent working toward equality. Dr. King remains to this day an inspiration for all who still struggle for equal rights. Growing up in Alabama endows a white Anglo-Saxon protestant with a unique perspective on race relations. Even though I never experienced segregation or the atrocities that were perpetrated in my home city of Birmingham in the sixties and seventies, I still experienced a form of “us-them” mentality as a child. I remember thinking and “understanding” that there was something different about the black, Asian, and Latino students in my classes.

An insightful reflection from Rev. Diana Butler Bass in response to the shooting that occurred this morning in Arizona involving Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. Follow the link HERE .

I’ll be honest. My original intent with this blog post was to rant about the efforts of an Auburn University professor to publish a new edition of the Mark Twain classic Huckleberry Finn . This new edition would replace the word “nigger” with “slave.” To be sure, I find the “n-word” incredibly offensive. However, by censoring the use of this word in a classic work of literature takes away much of the meaning and cultural context of the original work.

(if you missed part 1, you can check it out here) I am resolved to do things differently this year. I am finding out that I have a fair bit of time on my hands post-graduation, pre-working. While I anticipate having a job of some sort secured by next week, I will still have a significantly larger amount of time on my hands than when I was in school. So I'm going to be intentional with my time.

I really hate making New Years resolutions. I’ve done it before, but they have never amounted to anything worthwhile. My resolutions have always been somewhat trivial, intensely focused on making me better than I was before. It’s a bit of an unhealthy cycle. But not this year. This year I am standing at a crossroad. The finale of 2010 was exceptionally difficult for me. I graduated from college, finishing up four and a half years at a place that transformed my life. I moved back to Hoover, leaving behind a life that I had spent half a decade building. I left a church, and for the first time in my life doing so was devastating because I loved the church, not because I had been betrayed by it.