In My Lifetime

Counting Blessings

God has a real sense of humour.  This week has just been one little "noogie" after another.  So God, if you're reading my blog, you have my attention. 

This cycle actually started a couple of weeks ago when I met one of my s/heros at her home in the Boston area.  This is a woman who began to write courageous, and some said outrageous, work since the mid 1960's. She's an icon to many of my generation whether one likes her or her ideas or not. 

As I entered her home for a very short "audience" arranged by a mutual friend she greeted me warmly and sat across from me. Although her body seemed somewhat frail her spirit was decidedly "large and in charge."  When the time came for our first interaction she looked at me very squarely in the eye and said, "So, what's so great about you?" I was completely disarmed.  I laughed and said I wasn't at all sure there was anything at all so great about me.  After a few minutes of jockeying around and trading uneasy comments back and forth with our mutual friend and my host, she turned to me again looking me squarely in the eye and said again, "What IS so great about you?"  I realized this question was in no way rhetorical but demanded an answer before we could proceed.  I said, "Well, I work hard, I do my best to be honest, and I try to be a good friend." My host nodded and the conversation proceeded smoothly and pleasantly.

Fast forward to this past Sunday after two weeks travel, driving home from Boston on Friday, attending an all day meeting in Toronto on Saturday and returning to Toronto for services on Sunday morning and more meetings, I was to preach a sermon on Sunday evening exploring a multi-gendered image of God. That afternoon I got a call from a very close friend asking me to go and visit a close friend of hers in a palliative care facility.  I immediately rerouted my car and went to the hospital where I found a lovely woman gently caring for her husband of 40 years.  She was gracious to me, inviting me in immediately after I explained our mutual friend connection.  We sat together in the room with her mate as she described for me that events that had lead them to this day with her partner dying slowly.  When our mutual friends arrived she promptly "came out" to me as a transgender woman.  I sat for another hour or so listening to their reminesences of their early years together 40+ years ago.  I just shook my head when I left.  The sermon I had prepared was a good grounding for the REAL sermon I was to preach.  That sermon required me to relate the beauty of the love this woman has for her mate and call attention to her love as a mirror of God's love for us. Truly and unmistakably a transgender image of God.  What an incerdible experience.

On Monday morning I finally got around to fasting so that I could go in and have some blood work done that I had put off since May when I'd had my physical exam at my doctor.  I was going in to get my flu shot anyhow so I thought I'd finally get off my bum and get "caught up" with what I was supposed to do.  About 6pm that evening I got a nearly hysterical phone call from my Dr's office.  One of the doctors was phoning me telling me to "go to the hospital immediately."  My red blood count was critically low, dangerously so, and I would require blood transfusions immediately.  Frankly I was quite sure there was some mistake but the doctor convinced me to go to emerg.  I went thinking they would pull more blood, see there was an error and I'd be on my way home.  But that was not the case and instead I spent the night in the hospital getting blood transfusions. 

Tuesday was my 52nd birthday.  I walked out of the hosptial into heavy snow falling. I went to get a coffee, and yes a donut, and sat in my car until time for my previously scheduled appointment with an orthopedic specialist to discuss nearly constant and often severe pain in my knee that I've had for several weeks.  I'll be having scope surgery on the knee in the near future.

I saw my doctor yesterday and she literally put the fear of God into me regarding my health.  Her mantra was "you REALLY have to take this seriously."  I assured her I am taking it seriously.  But for effect she continued to try to find various ways to explain the situation to me. She said, "If you'd been 20 years older there would have been a line of a form that said, 'FOUND IN HOME.' " Ok, ok.... I get it.  I nearly killed myself and didn't realize I was sick.  I'm not paying attention.  I'm busy doing all the things I'm supposed to do going full speed ahead and not realizing I'm about to run out of gas, at night, in the middle of nowhere, and I'm going to lose a LOT of time trying to get the car back on the road.  I mean let's get real, I'd never treat my car like I've been treating my body.

It occurs to me that blessings are received by being present.  Translation.... I have to show up to get the blessings in my life. First I have to be alive, second I have to show up, and finally  I have to be aware enough to be present to what is happening.  I spoke last night about my need to show up for the blessings in my life and my need to be aware of the blessings that I'm receiving.

So this morning, after feeling a little sorry for myself that I'm lonely on Thanksgiving and sick to boot... after my little pity party.... I'm very aware that my friend Susan phoned. She called just at the moment I would have left my mother's house as she was dying 19 years ago today.   She didn't know I needed a distraction.  She just phoned me to chat and catch up.  She was my blessing this morning.  She was the vehicle God used to get my attention this morning. 
Ok so you have my attention.  I've lived through abusing my body and am on the mend.  I'm showing up to be in relationship with people I love, although I do have some repair work to do on this front.  And most of all I am acutely aware of God's presence and blessing in my life today. 
I hope all of you in the states are enjoying a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. And for those of you in other places it's still a good time to count blessings and remember to give thanks.
Happy Thanksgiving

This beautiful image is called Blessing Ritual and can be found at Designs by Willow

I hope you will visit her site and see her other beautiful work.

Venti Nofoam Latte Please

 

My friend and former classmate Mary Cat sent me this You Tube clip this morning. Lillian and I watched it with horrified recognition.  We counted the similarities and accurate depictions.  Among my favourite were:

• The bumper stickers
• Reserved parking close to the door for those in authority
• All the doors locked except one but you have find out which by trial and error if you're new.
• People who just look you up and down and turn away
• Being embarrassed by calling attention to being "new"
• Being asked to fill out personal information in order to participate
• Calling attention to the tip jar
• Hidden restrooms

All these things resonate with me.  As I look at the list I made above I'm thinking about all the ways we "screen" people and do not provide the basic needs that folks have to feel welcome and "get what they came for."  I think what struck me most soundly was that a retail location providing a product to the market relies on the value of that "product" to bring people in.  And yes of course it relies on branding, ease of entrance to the store, availability of restrooms and other services that make the experience pleasant and enjoyable.
I found it interesting that the special "language" that one is expected to learn just to place an order at a Starbuck's is not challenged.... but I digress.
What I'm really thinking about is this.... to what extent to people who come to church expect to get a "product" and expect to walk away satisfied?  And to what extent is this a reasonable expectation?  Should coming to church be an "exchange" transaction?
Sure I think there are some real issues to deal with there.  But the point of this little video regarding just the points of "welcome" and "hospitality"  are genuine and poignant. 
What IF the new church plant I'm working on took these things to heart?  Would it make a difference? I wonder.

Who do you say that I am?

Well I've learned a lot about myself this week.  I've been quizzed on all kinds of past addresses, telephone numbers, any tidbit of information that folks can come up with to establish my identity as the person I say I am.  I'm grateful for the diligence.  At this point the threat of identity theft is the greatest concern and it's completely valid given the breadth of ID and so forth that was stolen. 
But somethings far more important were stolen from me as well.  And these more important things gone have taught me the greatest lessons and given the most fuel for theological reflection.  It seems the experience becomes richer and richer by the day.  So I wanted just to record some of the thoughts about the week.
I've been thinking alot about the passage in Matthew 16: 15-16 where Jesus asks someone who knows him well... Peter, "who do you say I am?"  I ran across this great poster at the Mennonite Central Committee Store that talks about internalized racism and systematized racism.  I've felt just a touch of what it means to be "alien", "illegal", "other", "outsider" in a country.  I've spent the week knowing what it feels like to be outside the United States without proof of my  US citizenship, unable to freely travel across the border between the US and Canada.  Even in the extreme privilege I live in... even in my white, educated, middle classed package I've had to contend with the dilemma of building back an identity and proving who I am.
I've sat in Canadian government office for hours on end watching the endless parade of humanity that flows through the Ministry of Transportation, the Ministry of Health, the Passport office.  I've watched the families and admired the diversity of multicultural realities that have passed before me.  I've seen the children of immigrants and new citizens playing on the floors of the agencies as their parents wait their turn, numbers in hand, waiting for their number to appear on the signs showing which window to go to to solve their particular problem.  I've watched people of many languages and colors and cultures go to those windows and listened as Canadian government workers handle their issues with the utmost respect, affording them the dignity they deserve. I've seen the smiles as new landed immigrants leave with the documents they need to access healthcare or drive.  And I've seen smiling faces of all colors leaving the passport offices, new passport in hand, with the bubble of anticipation for going on a vacation or to visit friends or family in far, far away places all over the world.  I've nearly wept more than once as I listened to the government workers patiently talk with people who barely speak English.  I've nearly wept as they've patiently consoled me and assured me this will one day all be sorted.  Giving me reassuring smiles... just like they gave the Asian or Indian or African or Arab person who just preceded me in line.
All this has given me a new perspective on identity in general and my own identity particularly.  I have a new appreciation for the person who lives and works and falls in love and even has children in a country where they have no legal identity... where they have no proof of who they are.
I've also thought a lot about the concept of safety and what a fragile and illusive thing it is.  I've considered how I construct the idea of safety in my mind.  I've come to terms with the reality that it may be years before I feel truly safe again.  It was utter irony that in one of my 12 step meetings last Saturday as we were studying a book called Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions I read a sentence I had never noticed before even though I'd read it God only knows how many times.  It's in the chapter on the 4th tradition and it says, "We had discovered that there was perfect safety in the process of trail and error."  I had been beating myself for my stupidity... for not having copies, for leaving my wallet in the car, for having so many documents in one bag, some that could have VERY easily been left behind at home in case of some disaster JUST such as this. But there it was, plain as day.  Lighten up.  Easy Does It. Let Go and Let God. This too shall pass. So what if you made a mistake, you'll learn and do better and maybe even help others to avoid the same fate.  "Perfect safety in the process if trial and error."  What a lesson.
Perhaps the thing that's weighed most heavily on my mind is how important identity is to a person and how very, very important it is that we allow each person to define or construct their own identity.  I've considered how infinitely more complex my challenges would have been this week if I'd ever changed my name or my gender identity.  The full force of having to check "female" on countless forms, over and over and over.  The complete disconnect saying "yes" to "have you ever been married" on the US Passport forms knowing that the US doesn't recognize my marriage even though it is a perfectly legal marriage in Canada that ought to be respected under the Marriage Treaty.  I've considered the serenity I've felt when I've spent time in prayer with the knowledge that God knows exactly who I am and what I need without filling out a single form, without me even needing to ask.
"Who do you say that I am?"  I wonder what Jesus expected to hear when he asked that question.  I wonder if Peter's answer matched who he understood himself to be... or was he surprised?
I give thanks for all the incarnations of the Christ who have come to me this week.  I wonder if they know who they've been to me?

Trinity Cathedral, Cleveland, OH

I was in Cleveland over the holiday weekend and wanted to go to church on Sunday.  There is no MCC in Cleveland so where to go?  As usual, I digress back to my Anglican roots.  And since the dean of Trinity Cathedral (Episcopal) in Cleveland is an out lesbian, it seemed like the logical place to go.

When we arrived I realized I was a little daunted by the traditional exterior of the cathedral.  It's a beautiful building on the historic register.  It has a wonderful addition/annex called Trinity Commons with shops, offices, classrooms... facilities that any parish would .... well, envy. But the traditional older part of the exterior was daunting.  And my heart sank a little bit as I remembered the mantra of one of the professors from my seminary who said over and over, "the architecture always wins."  I felt myself dreading the "airplane seating" all faced forward service sitting on wooden pews that were designed as a form of self punishment.

My partner insisted on entering the space through the front door.  And as we did I was simply stunned. There were no pews!  There were only chairs.  And the altar had been pulled down from the chancel and was in the MIDDLE OF THE NAVE!  The comfortable chairs were arranged all the way around the altar.  The grand piano on one side of the space, the small wooden lectern on the other side.  One could sit facing the front doors or facing the beautiful high altar of the cathedral.  We opted to sit facing toward what would have been the front of the space, positioned to be able to see the preacher who was Dean Tracey Lind. 

The experienced continued to be delightful.  The language was inclusive, the theology was open and progressive.  The sermon was interesting, the music was lovely with lots of congregational singing which I enjoy very much.  But when we arrived at the Eucharist we had come to the "piece de resistance."  Dean Lind and a male associate clergy stood one on either side of the altar.  They co-consecrated the elements, sharing the role of celebrant in a beautiful expression of gender balance. And perhaps the very best was that in the service leaflet and announced in the service were the words "all are welcome" and they meant it.  It's not unusual in progressive parishes for something to be said like "all baptized" or "all Christians" are welcome.   I don't recall many Episcopal or Anglican Church of Canada services where the unqualified phrase "all are welcome" is used.  This could mean Muslims, Jews, agnostics, pagans, wiccans.... anyone could receive without any worry of being disrespectful.

I wrote a note to Dean Lind tonight thanking her and the parish for the lovely worship experience.  It's a rare thing to see a parish put it's pews where it's theological heart is.  But Sunday's visit to Trinity Cathedral proved it CAN be done.  I reckon the architecture doesn't always have to win.

I hope you will visit Trinity Cathedral when you visit Cleveland.  It made my weekend.  And I'll be back.

 

A Place at the Table

I had a great weekend in Indianapolis this past weekend attending the biennial conference of the EEWC, Evangelical & Ecumenical Women's Caucus.  It was called "A Place at the Table" and explored ways we in the Christian context do and still do not invite people to the Eucharistic table.  I was only able to attend the Saturday sessions and the closing worship service yesterday.  But it was lovely.

My friend Virginia Ramey Mollenkott was speaking as was Rev. Elder Nancy Wilson, Moderator and spiritual leader of Metropolitan Community Church, my ministry home. I was privileged to spend some time with my friend and mentor Virginia and her partner. And I was able to enjoy Nancy and her assistant Connie's company as well.  Great lectures, wonderful music including a concert by folk singer Carrie Newcomer, a closing worship service that really grounded me in a way that was very helpful. 

I've been slow to join EEWC (EEWC Website) and slower to attend their conferences and read their GREAT newsletter Christian Feminism Today.  So learn from my mistakes whether you're male or female identified and join this great organization.  These people, women and men, have something special going on. You won't find me missing from one of their conferences again!