On the twelfth day of Christmas...

I posted this on the congregation's blog a week ago, since I love Miss Piggy's "pa dum dum dum" after the fifth day of Christmas. And I couldn't let all twelve days go by without posting it here, too.

Plenitude, from the Center for a New American Dream

Something thought provoking for late on a Wednesday night:


New Dream Mini-Views: Visualizing a Plenitude Economy from Center for a New American Dream on Vimeo.

10 years + 10 days

9/11 was 10 days ago. Does it feel like more or less than that? I was intrigued (and to be completely honest, slightly annoyed) by all the media coverage of the anniversary. Somehow it felt like no one was asking the right questions. And I'm not sure how helpful it is to watch footage of planes flying into the World Trade Center on endless repeat.
I thought a lot about "where I was on 9/11" - in Randalstown, Northern Ireland - sort of a suburb of Belfast. I was upstairs at my friends' house, reading something theological, when Liz hollered at me to come downstairs and look at the TV. My first question, upon arriving in the family room was, "What movie are you watching?" Of course, it wasn't a movie.
Having the BBC as my primary news source in the days following 9/11 shaped my experience of those days differently than Americans watching network news or CNN 24/7. And being in a country that's had more than its fair share of terrorist activity in the last multiple generations shaped the way I started thinking about the events of that day, too. Over and over again I heard versions of "I'm really sorry for those who lost their lives, and for those who lost loved ones, but it's about time Americans felt what it's like to live anywhere else in the world." The naivete (and arrogance?) of the shock and "I-can't-believe-this-could-happen-here-this-is-America-and-everyone-loves-us" attitude portrayed in European media was, frankly, shocking to folks in Belfast - as it was also in France, where I spent a week at Taize in mid-October 2011.
I didn't think I had much to say about the 10th anniversary of 9/11, and I guess my own rememberings havven't really said much. I've appreciated these people over the last few weeks - people who've said what I wanted to say, far better than I've found words to say it.

Will Willimon, presiding bishop of the North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church, wrote for Christianity Today:

On 9/11 I thought, For the most powerful, militarized nation in the world also to think of itself as an innocent victim is deadly. It was a rare prophetic moment for me, considering Presidents Bush and Obama have spent billions asking the military to rectify the crime of a small band of lawless individuals, destroying a couple of nations who had little to do with it, in the costliest, longest series of wars in the history of the United States.

The silence of most Christians and the giddy enthusiasm of a few, as well as the ubiquity of flags and patriotic extravaganzas in allegedly evangelical churches, says to me that American Christians may look back upon our response to 9/11 as our greatest Christological defeat. It was shattering to admit that we had lost the theological means to distinguish between the United States and the kingdom of God. The criminals who perpetrated 9/11 and the flag-waving boosters of our almost exclusively martial response were of one mind: that the nonviolent way of Jesus is stupid. All of us preachers share the shame; when our people felt very vulnerable, they reached for the flag, not the Cross.

September 11 has changed me. I'm going to preach as never before about Christ crucified as the answer to the question of what's wrong with the world. I have also resolved to relentlessly reiterate from the pulpit that the worst day in history was not a Tuesday in New York, but a Friday in Jerusalem when a consortium of clergy and politicians colluded to run the world on our own terms by crucifying God's own Son.
Copyright © 2011 Christianity Today

Diana Butler Bass is brilliant, here.

A colleague I hope to meet someday posted this sermon.

And thanks to Mary Hess, one of my favorite seminary profs, for posting an Indigo Girls rendition of the first couple verses of Finlandia, below. I hadn't even considered putting a patriotic song in the liturgy on 9/11 (a Sunday, remember) until Saturday afternoon, September 10th - too late. And on Sunday morning, during Communion, a member of the congregation handed me a note asking to sing America the Beautiful before worship was over. I knew I had to do it, but I didn't want to. It's not that I'm unpatriotic, it's just that too many American Christians get their patriotism and their faith blended and confused in ways that aren't good for either. I'm thankful that Finlandia is in our hymnal. A little perpsective - and humility - is good for us.

Conversations

Yesterday evening a couple of family friends from what seems like a lifetime ago stopped by. They are a bit younger than my folks, and I think were the first couple my sister and I called "Auntie" and "Uncle" who were not actually aunts or uncles.
After moving so many times in the last 15 years, I must say it's fun to talk with folks who remember when I was in elementary school - and what I was like back in those days. I'm not sure if it's a pro or a con, moving away from the people who know you and your history the best - a little of both, I suppose.
One of the most fun parts of the evening (besides the dinner they took us out to enjoy) was introducing them to the Munchkin, and then watching the Munchkin enjoy their dog, Mandy, who is a Dachshund mix of some kind. The Munchkin is completely in love with dogs, and the conversation she had with Mandy was pretty dang hilarious.

Time to speak

Scanning some of the comments on YouTube was a little disappointing. Fear seems to prevail with a lot folks these days...

Another Round of NaBloPoMo

News Flash: I am WAY better at getting things done when I have a deadline that needs meeting. Case in point: I did actually manage to write a blog post EVERY SINGLE DAY in December. Even Christmas Eve. Even New Year's Eve. I mean really... was January THAT much more complicated? Not at all - but since I hadn't made the commitment to post something (anything!) every day, very clearly I didn't. Well, enough of that. I'm going for another round of a blog post a day for a month (and yes, I am a little thankful it's a 28 day month). I figure I'm walking proof that if you want something done, you should ask a busy person to do it. I picked up a second job last week (my hours at church have been cut - officially, following yesterday's annual meeting of the congregation - back to half time). I'm an administrative helper, of sorts. Lots of filing, cleaning out files, putting new files together, playing with labels, etc. It's a temporary part-time gig, but at this point any help at all is, well, HELP, when it comes to our household finances. More on that another day. I do have a fun thing to share. We had a congregational sledding night on Saturday night, from 7:30-9pm, by the light of a full moon. There were about 30 participants ranging in age from 4 - 75 years old sledding, and enjoying hot chocolate and tasty treats. Here's a video of Grant coming down the hill (taken with my Christmas present FlipShare video recorder). By the end of the night he was covered in snow, cold, and incredibly happy. Not bad. Happy February!

Mary's Song

I'm preaching this weekend, and so have the Magnificat on the brain. It's not a bad state to be in, really, though I'm still waiting on the Spirit to help me narrow down my sermon. My tendency lately is to have more than one sermon mushed together, which isn't exactly helpful. We'll be singing "Canticle of the Turning," a hymn I like a lot, despite the fact that we all end up sounding so cheerful about a turning upside down of the status quo. I'm not so sure those of us who really are pretty privileged, in the grand scheme of things, should be quite so happy about the rich being sent away empty... Anyway, thinking about Mary's song also made me think about this song I was glad to stumble upon a while back. The singer is Catherine Hessler, a UW classmate of mine (we took Scandinavian linguistics together, and maybe one or two other classes - she studied Swedish while I studied Norwegian, and we were both involved in the university ministries at University Presbyterian Church - she much more so than I). The song's composer, Katie Freeze, can be seen at the keyboard in the video (she was a couple of years behind us at UW, and also a UPC-er). As Catherine writes on her website: "How Many Angels" is Mary’s Song, an interpretation of the reflections of this new young mother after the baby Jesus was born. Mary holds the little miracle in her arms and knows that the angels too rejoice over his life. A life that will change the world. Mary considers both the enormity and the grace of her situation. With wonder and humility she embraces the truth that God chose her to play a beautiful role in the life of the Savior. Hope you like the song.

Christmas Cards sans "The Letter"

I'm more than a little behind on sending Christmas cards, having sent all of four or five so far. I keep reminding myself that Christmas doesn't even START until after sundown on Christmas Eve, and then lasts for 12 whole days, but the "busiest day for the USPS" news segment last night re-ignited my culture driven angst. While I am sending cards, I'm not writing a Christmas letter this year (the man of the house wants to write one, which is fine, but I'm not sending one in "my" cards). I figure the defining moments of my year aren't exactly things most people want to read about while sipping cocoa and watching the lights twinkle on their Christmas trees. Instead I am penning simple greetings on each card and calling it good enough. I actually managed to watch two hours of TV last night. I try to catch Jay Leno on Mondays because he does "Headlines" which always crack me up. Last night he also welcomed "Garfunkel and Oates" - a hilarious duo with a hilarious song. Enjoy!!

Choreography of Sheep

I laughed right out loud. Thanks for sending it, Amy!

The Swell Season

Grant and I saw the movie Once in Minneapolis almost two years ago, and we both loved it. The music (Oscar winning) was great, of course, but I loved more that it was set on the street in Dublin. It's funny how different sounds - and more so smells - take me back to the year I lived in Northern Ireland. This past summer I was walking on Main Street in downtown Bozeman, and it started to rain. As I rounded a corner and passed a local burger joint I could have sworn I was in Strabane, I could even picture the chippy in my head. Crazy. Anyway - here's a new video by The Swell Season. I'm thankful to have come across it on Chris Scharen's blog. (And I'm hoping Santa will bring me The Swell Season's newest cd). Hope you like the video!