I am personal of privilege – white (Anglo-Saxon to boot); financially independent; a home owner; a graduate of high school, college, and seminary – all with honors; and I have a voice in circles of power. I am a beneficiary of the GI Bill – I have no proof of this except that my father (and two uncles) seemed to be able to marry, buy property, and build homes in the suburbs within five years of returning stateside after being in the Pacific or European theater. For this alone I can recognize I was born to succeed in America. Not something my eight-year-old “colored” friend who was bussed to my elementary school in the 1960s could ever say. This is just the tip of the iceberg to understanding how much more I need to do to help dismantle racism.
For the past several years I have been doing “personal work” regarding my privilege as a white person in America. Yes, over the years I have taken lots of “anti-racism” trainings and workshops – even so much as to be a trainer to lead workshops for others. Yes, I have consciously made decisions about not succumbing to the “white flight” of many of my young children’s friends’ parents to flee to the white suburbs . . . called many people of color my friends . . . come to grips with the racism (what I saw as bigotry) from my family members . . . and tried hard to make sure diverse voices were heard and included in the many committees, task forces, and projects I have participated in. But that isn’t enough. Continue reading More Resources for Dismantling Racism→
Two months ago I was in the midst of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land with thirty others from the Episcopal Church in Connecticut. It has taken me that long to articulate in writing my reactions and feelings about the political climate regarding Israel and Palestine. I have already posted numerous reflections on the sites we visited, both spiritually and historically. But I have skirted around writing about the reality of the Palestinian people that I experienced; it was just below the surface in all my postings about Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Samaria, and Galilee.
In the Hebrew Scriptures, Israel is called to be a light to the nations. As a people chosen by God (technically, Abraham received this promise for all his descendants/offspring) to show the way back to right relationship to God, today’s Israel has fallen short of this covenant. Power and rule have a tendency to let leaders forget their responsibilities, which ultimately leads to division and corruption. As in Old Testament times, history continues to repeat itself. Recall the role of the prophets who kept calling God’s people back.
This past Sunday’s readings (10th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 15) spoke to me (with help from a great sermon which I will link here when it is posted) from Isaiah 5:1-7 and Luke 12:49-56. Israel continues to this day to grow (be) the wild (sour) grapes, while God gave all of us a beautiful vineyard to live in to grow sweet grapes – if we would only cease our divisions and love God as well as love our neighbor. God is angry. Jesus weeps. Yesterday and today.
The U.S. and Israel have a complicated relationship, which was exacerbated this past week with the on-again, off-again visits of two U.S. congress women desiring to visit family in the West Bank. You can read about it here (from NPR) as well as many other news sources. These two women know what it is like for the Palestinians (Muslim and Christian) to live in the occupied territories. I don’t believe most Americans really understand what is really happening in Israel, or how the U.S. government is upsetting the precarious balance. You have to see it to really understand.
As a child I recall singing “We are climbing Jacob’s ladder” in Sunday School. It was a story that I remember reading in my own Bible, trying to imagine how someone could sleep while their head rested on a rock – no wonder they had wild dreams!
In listening to the reading of Genesis 28:10-19a this morning at Eucharist, I was struck by the importance of place in which Jacob encountered God. And this wasn’t going to be the last place God interrupted Jacob’s sleep (in the coming weeks we’ll hear more about Jacob, including his wrestling with an angel during another fitful night without sleep). Jacob has many miles to go before he can truly sleep (taking liberties with Robert Frost).
But what about place? In the stories of Abram/Abraham and Sarai/Sarah, each time they have an encounter with God, they mark each place with an altar of stones. Jacob does this same action, using his stone pillow as base for the altar. In all of the travels of God’s people in our Hebrew Scriptures, so many “mark the place” where they encounter God. Perhaps as a way to acknowledge the encounter with something tangible besides a memory, or perhaps as a landmark for whomever may come that way to know that something special happened there. So special that someone needed to “mark” it. Continue reading Jacob’s Ladder→
Performed at St. Mark’s in Mystic, CT on Sunday, December 18, 2016
In an homage to the preferred story-telling method of one of my writing heroes, Aaron Sorkin, this new Christmas pageant takes place during a rehearsal for a traditional Christmas pageant. Over the course of the play, the traditional elements of the pageant get untangled from each other and we distill the stories as told by Matthew and Luke.
As we approach the birth of Christ, this article by Carol Howard Merritt really struck me. It reminded me of the experience of serving as a minister of communion 30+ years ago on Christmas Eve when I was 8-months pregnant. I was not robed in my alb (it no longer fit) and I had to lean to reach those at the altar rail as I administered the chalice. My soon-to-be-born daughter was active that evening, and I remember her moving and pushing against my ribs as I proclaimed, “The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.” I invite you to read this article by Carol:
“As I lifted the chalice, the baby began to play soccer under my ribs……