The Pilgrim's Coat

Today I was interviewed by a man from the church I went to as a little girl - Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Raleigh, NC. Just like Trinity in Moorhead, they've had lots of folks from their congregation enter ordained and rostered ministries. They're doing a research project in order to learn about what aspects of their congregational life have influenced people in their sense of call to ministry. So, I was asked lots of questions about what I remember being key experiences in my life of faith while I was growing up at Holy Trinity.

It was great fun to relive these childhood moments - everything from live Nativity scenes to a confirmation retreat to a very profound moment when I watched my pastor help a homeless man get something to eat for lunch. I was reminded by this interview how much little moments make a big difference, and how important it is, from time-to-time, to reflect on what moments have made us the people we are today.

And then, I happened upon this blog post about Pilgrim's Coats: http://theadventdoor.com/2008/12/05/the-pilgrims-coat/

Here's a quote from that blog: "Painted with Buddhist mantras in flowing Japanese calligraphy, a simple coat such as this would have been worn by a person as they traveled from temple to temple on their spiritual journey. Each temple had its own stamp, and a typical pilgrim’s coat is laden with vivid cinnabar imprints gathered from the temples. The coat of a pilgrim who had been traveling for some time would have looked something like a cross between a passport and prayerbook, with the cinnabar stamps and calligraphic mantras mingling together to enfold the wearer."

We are stamped, marked, formed into who we are by things we experience along our way.

And, so, during this season of Advent reflection, I invite you to think about the experiences, people, places, and moments that have made an imprint on your life.

What's on your "pilgrim's coat"? And where might you look for your next stamp?

posted by Marsha.

An unpreached sermon

Once upon a time, a preacher carefully prepared a sermon. When it came time to preach the sermon, she went to print it off and realized that she wasn't able to open the document. That night, she preached what she could. Here is what she intended to share...

Scripture passages: Psalm 139:1-18//Jeremiah 1:4-10//John 8:21-38

Tonight. In this space. I invite you to take a deep breath. Breath in. And breath out. Let the tension from the day subside.

Tonight. In this space. As we breath in. And breath out. We step out of the hustle and bustle of life. We step out of the fear and anxiety of life. We step in to a time of prayer and a time of reflection.

Tonight. In this space. As we breath in. And breath out. God meets us. God fills us.

As we breath in. And breath out. We think of the One who first breathed life into out being--the One who formed our inward parts, who knit us together in the comfort of our mother’s womb. We think of this One who is with us.

This One who searches us. Who Knows us. Who knows when we sit, when we rise up...

This One who goes with us, to the highest heights and the deepest depths. In the light and in the the darkness...

As we breath in. And breath out. We recall that this One who is with us, knows us. In the deepest way.

This One knows...

how we try to flee from our past,

how we try to flee from being that which we were created to be,

how we try to flee from doing that which we were created to do,

how we try to flee like the prophet Jeremiah, saying we unable, unequipped

And this One, God, knows that when we try to flee, we are really bound, we are really slaves to sin...we cannot really flee on our own. God knows. God cares.

And so God the Father, sent the Son into the world. Because of Jesus Christ, we are not dead in our sins. We are not bound by our sins. We no longer need to try to flee on our own.

Rather, we are freed. Freed to be who God created us to be. To do what God created us to do. So that when we, like Jeremiah, hear God telling us to go, we can go. Knowing that the one who formed us, who knit us together is the one who goes with us. Knowing that the one who formed us, who knit us together, enables and equips us.

Tonight. In this space. Let us take a few moments, in silence, to breath in and to breath out. To dwell in the presence of God. To let the Spirit of God fill us. So that we may go...freed to be who God created us to be and to do what God created us to do.

posted by Pastor Emmy

Sign Language

As many of you heard, a tornado touched down at the Churchwide Assembly last week. After the storm passed and everyone took a deep breath and realized no one was hurt & the damage minimal, there was a LOT of joking about the tornado being a sign from God.

Contextually important is that the storm hit in the midst of the Assembly's discussion and vote on the new social statement, "Human Sexuality: Gift & Trust," which passed by the skin of its teeth.

With their tongues in their cheeks, those opposed to the social statement asserted that the tornado must have been a portentious omen from a distressed and angry God. Meanwhile, those in favor of the statement noted that the tornado hit during the discussion, but that as soon as the vote was taken, the sun came out and the wind ceased.

In fact, in almost every conversation I've had about the social statement, the tornado comes up in one way or another. We seem to jump to this conversation (however glib we might be) about SIGNS.

I like the idea of signs from God, despite my typical skepticism about such things.

Just yesterday, I was on an airplane, and I looked out of the window to see a lit-up cross shining up at me from the ground. (It was a small town at night.) It reminded me of Jesus, and that's a good thing.

And, a few months ago, as I was being pulled over for speeding on 8th St (yes, it's true), I could see the Trinity window in my rear-view mirror, and it gave me a little bit of peace in the midst of a stressful situation. A sign? Who knows, but again, it reminded me of Jesus, and that's a good thing.

Years ago, I had a more profound experience with what I considered to be a sign from God. The year after college, I'd been experiencing a period of extreme doubt in the existence of God. It was a real struggle for me to pray, to go to church...to let myself believe. And so, one night, I opened my Bible, and asked God for a concrete sign that God was real...something I could hold onto. And, on the first page I opened to, the word "believe" was highlighted 7 or 8 times. A sign? Who knows...but it kept me going for a while. I don't think it was magic, and I don't know if it was a sign...but it showed me that some other person in this world felt the need to highlight that word over and over again. I saw that 'sign', and I didn't feel so alone in my struggle.

Not all signs are helpful. I'm from the south, where there are lots of billboards shouting at people to 'REPENT!' or to 'READ YOUR BIBLE!'. These aren't so helpful, I don't think. They mostly just make me roll my eyes & get a little angry.

Signs can point us in the wrong direction, if we aren't careful, because we can read them any way we want to. Like the tornado at Churchwide Assembly, the same sign can be read in opposite ways.

So if signs are dangerous, where do we go for direction, when we need help along the way?

We don't get a clear, Charlton Heston-God-voice out of the clouds.

We don't get Bible passages that say: "Marsha, here's your task for today"

Discernment is messier than that. Our recent debates on sexuality have shown us that, if we didn't know it already.

Well, I don't have all the answers (shocker!), but...we Lutherans do believe that the sure sign we do have is the CROSS. We have a clear revelation of who God is and what God wants of us in Jesus Christ - in the way he lived and the way he died...and the way he lived again. When we're unsure about life, we can look to Jesus' life. When we're unsure about our next steps, we can read about the steps Jesus took all over Galilee and Samaria and Jerusalem. When we need a sign, we have the cross.

Apart from the cross, things get murky.

But it's not the most ideal sign. It points us to conflict and sacrifice and death. But, it also points to new life after every suffering we face. It points to nonviolence, saving grace, and the biggest love there is. It points us to God...a God not of glory, but of LOVE. A God that doesn't send little magic signs like tornados and billboards, but a God that does much better - our God comes to us in Jesus...Godself in front of us, God present with us, 2000 years ago, and NOW. God is here. And we don't need tornados to tell us that.

Ok, I'm done preaching for now.

For more info on the Churchwide Assembly, check out www.elca.org/assembly.

posted by Marsha.

Tour de WAKE UP!

This past weekend, I was given a bit of a wake up call.

This past weekend, the Tour de Revs were in the F-M area. This group of three pastors is traveling the country to raise awareness and funds for the ministry of the ELCA World Hunger Appeal. It was a joy for Trinity Lutheran Church to be a host to the group and have Pastor Fred preach on Sunday. As I listened to the men present on Saturday night, I was reminded of how feeding the hungry is a very real way that we can do God’s work in this world. The hope of eradicating world hunger may be lofty, but small practices in my life can make a big difference in the life of others. Could I eat out a little less often and give money to the Hunger Appeal a little more often? Could I pass on the four dollar cup of coffee and put it in the offering plate instead? The Tour de Rev’s got me thinking…and hopefully realigning my priorities a bit.

Check out their webpage to learn more! http://www.tourderevs.org/

This past weekend, I also got a note from a friend who will be riding in the Tour de Pink, a 200+ mile ride to raise awareness and funds for the Young Survival Coalition – a group that provides support for young women with breast cancer. As I read through the information, I was reminded of the very real struggles that people who have cancer experience. It’s a struggle that is in some part their own, but it is also a struggle that they don’t need to go through alone. Part of what we, as followers of Christ, can do is to walk with them, letting them know they are loved and supported. This event is just one way to do that. To learn more this group, check out the webpage: http://www.youngsurvival.org/

And, (a shameless plug) my friend would certainly appreciate support you can give him in reaching his fundraising goal. Donate here. http://www.active.com/donate/tourdepink/MBeers2

So that’s what’s on my mind today: Sometimes I’ve wondered about the value of these sorts of fundraisers, but these two events have been a bit of a wake up call for me. Pulling me out of my own life and reminding me of some of the bigger issues we face together in this world. Thanks for reading. Time to keep plugging along!

posted by Emmy

St. Urho

Part of my time here in the upper midwest has been about exploring my Scandinavian heritage. Growing up in North Carolina, there weren't many folks with Finnish & Swedish roots, like me.

And so, when we TiM pastors were in Menahga for a retreat, I just HAD ot stop by the larger-than-life statue of Finland's St. Urho.

After reading his story (check out the plaque), and calling my Finnish gramma to get her take on this grasshopper-killing hero, I started thinking...what is the deal with this guy?

Why do we need these larger-than-life heroes? What is so magnificent about a eprson that you'd want to make a 12-foot tall concrete 'replica' of him in all his glory?

I think part of it is that we like to think we're part of something epic & nobel - part of something bigger than our little lives.

But the thing is - we already are. We don't need giant St. Urho, as awesome as he is, to bring us into something bigger. We are already part of something epic & nobel - part of something bigger - because God has invited us in. In our baptisms, our little lives are added to the long list of stories in the Bible - it's Adam & Eve, Noah, Abraham, Ruth, Jonah, Jesus, St. Urho, and you & me!

& it's not because we're strong or descended from giant men who drove pests out of Finland with a pitchfork. We're part of something epic & noble that uses the weak, lowly, & humble to create a new world. We are saved, not by power and strength and giant pitchforks - we're saved, not by violence - but by the ultimate act of weakness, the ultimate act of nonviolence - the cross.

I still love St. Urho, cause he's kitchy and fun & part of my history, sort of. And really, look at him! How can you not think that big lovable Finn is just the greatest?!

But it's not the big things like St Urho, but the little things, that bring us into something great. It's the little candle I got at my baptism that reminds me that I am part of something bigger. Or it's turning to a hymn in the ELW and knowing that Lutherans all around the world are turning to that page and singing that song too.

We are a part of something epic & noble - part of something bigger - because God has invited us in - putting all of our little lives together to create a new world.

Posted by Marsha.

'Mobilizing' in DC

The centerpiece of the new mission statement that the Social Concerns Ministry Team is working on is our baptismal promise 'to strive for justice and peace in all the earth'. We hear that promise again at confirmation (which, at Trinity, was today), affirming that this is something we are committed to.

But it's tricky to figure out just how to go about actually doing this. How the heck are we supposed to strive for anything 'in all the earth'? The earth is a big place! We can get overwhelmed - and yet, this is a huge part of what Jesus was all about. So, where do we start?

I look for help. And one of the places I've found guidance is an organization called Sojourners (aka 'Sojo'). Since the '70s, they've hoped 'to articulate the biblical call to social justice, inspiring hope and building a movement to transform individuals, communities, the church, and the world.' They do this in lots of ways - a magazine, a website, and a strong presence in DC. I've interacted with them mostly thru their daily emails and blog entries. (www.sojo.net) They are aware of justice issues which we Christians might care about, and they let us know how we can help - whether that means emailing our representatives, preaching on or praying about a particular issue, or even going to Washington.

That's what I did last week as a part of my trip to the east coast. I attended Sojo's 'Mobilization to End Poverty' conference. The first day was full of fantastic speakers: Jim Wallis, dir of Sojo; David Lane, head of the ONE campaign; Congresswoman Rosa DeLauro of CT; several members of Obama's administration, and more. President Obama even sent us a video message!


The 2nd day of the Mobilization was our lobby day. I went with the MN delegation to Capitol Hill and met with staffers in Senator Klobuchar and Rep Peterson's offices. We talked about legislation that would commit to cutting the poverty rate in half by 2020. We also talked about the importance of foreign aid, even in the recession, as part of our commitment to love our neighbor and care for 'the least of these.' We also talked about the importance of health care reform this year, as health care is one of the leading causes of poverty in our country. It was a great experience to visit these offices and to see, first hand, that we Christians DO have important things to say to our government!

It was awesome to go to DC and do this, but you don't have to fly across country to make your voice heard. Emails and calls are surprisingly effective, and pretty easy, once you get the hang of it. The ELCA makes it even easier, w/ their great advocacy resources. Visit www.elca.org/advocacy to sign up for email alerts. They don't flood your inbox, but they'll let you know when there's an issues of 'justice & peace' that needs our attention. They'll let you know who to contact, and often provide a draft email.

We have important things to say as Christians - and DC will listen if we put ourselves out there!

posted by Marsha

pastor with a pedicure

I got a pedicure today. This is not something I typically do, but I’d been hoping to get one today. On this Maundy Thursday, this day when the Church remembers Jesus washing the disciples’ feet, I wanted to get my feet washed. I recognize that my actions are a bit ironic. Traditionally, the Church has recognized this as a day when Jesus gives us the command to "love one another" as he has loved us. (John 13:34). "Maundy", after all, comes from a Latin word meaning mandate or command. Traditionally, this has been a day when we in the church think about self-sacrifice and service. Followers of Jesus Christ are invited to consider how loving others is a central task of our lives. We receive a command to care for others and to love as Jesus loved. We are called to action for the sake of one another.

Yet, I also think Maundy Thursday is about experiencing God’s love for us. This is where my pedicure comes in. Jesus’ actions showed extravagant love towards his disciples. He became a like servant to them, caring for them in big ways. He graciously loved them. As I got my feet rubbed and scrubbed, I was reminded that God loves me very much. During my seminary training I was constantly reminded that in order to care for others, I first need to care for myself. The same goes for all of us. It’s okay to take time to love and care for ourselves. True, Jesus probably didn’t file down calluses or paint the disciples’ toes a pretty shade of pink, but he did love extravagantly. So today, even as I hear a command to love and care for others, I am also reminded of God’s love and care for me. I’m reminded that it’s okay for me (and all of us) to take time to love and care for ourselves. In the coming weeks, I’ll think of this every time I look down at my pretty pink toenails!

posted by Emmy

falling down and getting back up

Starting out on a walk at a park the other day, I noticed a child cross-country skiing up a small hill. Looking over a second later, I saw skis flailing in the air. I heard him calmly call, “Dad, Dad…Mom, Mom.” Making my way around the hill, I saw two adults some distance off. I figured the child must be okay. Going further, I saw him lying on the ground. His head faced down hill. He lay seemingly helpless like a turtle on its back. The boy’s skis continued to flail around, moving back and forth the in the air. “Dad, Dad…Mom, Mom” he called again. I chuckled at the sight before me.

And then, I started thinking. This is me: How often in my life do I cry out to God, “Dad, Dad…Mom, Mom…Help me. I’m stuck. I don’t know how to get up and get out of this situation.” Sometimes, I struggle with how to approach a ministry task in the church. Other times, I struggle with my own prayer and devotional life. The easy answer seems to be to sit and call to God, “Dad…Mom…Help me. I’m stuck.” I might even sit and mope for a while. Often in those moments, as I call out I feel like God isn’t responding. I feel that that boy lying seemingly helpless in a pile of snow.

Yet, in my better moments, I know that God is with me. The parents of that boy knew that he was fine, that he could probably get up on his own. With a little effort, with a little creative thinking, he would be able to get on his feet again. More often than not, I am able to deal with the struggles in my own life. With a little effort, with a little creative thinking, I will be able to get back on my feet again. God is with me, even if God doesn’t always intercede in the ways that I think God ought to. Sometimes, I just need to make an effort, to trust that God has gifted me and to get back up on my feet again.

How about you?

posted by Emmy

Sharing 'Doubt'

Yesterday I finally got around to seeing the movie 'Doubt' (it's at the cheap theater now - this is good). I was drawn to this film for obvious reasons - it's about a church, is critically acclaimed, and features fantastic actors: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Meryl Streep, & Amy Adams.

I recommend it. If you are at all interested in religion or stories that deal with moral ambiguity, then it will give you a lot to think about.

In the film there are several short clips of sermons given by Father Flynn (Hoffman). In the first, he talks about the way that hardship and shared experiences of fear and doubt bring people together. At the time of the film, the people had recently experienced the death of JFK, and he cites that as an example of the way that being unsettled together can form bonds that are hard to break.

Then, throughout the film, you watch doubt and fear tear a church community apart.

This begs the question: do our doubt and fear bring us together? or do they drive us apart?

I think it's both - either one - depending on how we use these things.

When we share our suffering, listen deeply to each other, and create safe space where we can share our feelings honestly, even about unsettling things like doubt and fear - then these troubling things can bring us together and make us stronger.

Instead, too often, we take our doubt and fear and hide them. We pretend to be sure of ourselves and certain of all kinds of things that we cannot ever truly know. And it can drive us apart.

My hope for the church - for Trinity and the church at large - is that it will be a place where we can share our doubt and fear with each other. I hope that we will ask each other how we're doing and take the time to listen, even when the answer is disturbing. And I challenge myself to be more open with my own doubts and fears.

Before I go, a disclaimer: I'm hesitant to recommend movies that criticize the church w/o acknowledging what a wonderful, world-changing place it can be. & I'm hesitant to recommend movies that criticize the Catholic church among Lutherans who can be a little too critical of Catholics in the first place So take the film with a grain of salt...

Enjoy the show! And let me know what your reactions are - I'd love to chat about it.

posted by Marsha.

Josh's Report from the Front

So my Spring break was in Mordor this year...which was pretty cool...I guess...

This is actually at Dunes National Park on Lake Michigan. Chicago is in the background.

Hey people,

It's pastor Josh here. If you couldn't tell from the picture above. I just got back from a little vacation time in Indiana. It was cool. A little too cool for a spring break destination maybe but it was an adventure nevertheless.

It all started when...

I parked my car in a place where I hoped it wouldn't get towed, tried to finish up a bunch of work that would allow me this Lenten escape and took the 3AM Amtrack train down to Chicago last Thursday. As I walked down Jackson during rush hour, looking up at the Sears Tower, sucking down a Jamba Juice, with my oversized duffle helping me to stand out in the stylish big city crowd, I thought about how cool I was and how jealous all the people back in Moorhead and Fargo would be about my big city living...and then I promptly, and like a confused country kid, got on the wrong transit train. Thankfully, somebody helped me out of the train and someone else helped me on one that would actually get me to Indiana, instead of whereever I was heading!

My brother met me at the stop in Indiana and whisked me off to the last evening of academia at Valparaiso before Spring break. Sam is a first year professor in Christ's College, Valpo's honors program. He is a part of a program for professors transitioning into their first professorships the same way I am a part of the TiM program at Trinity, transitioning into ministry. Both are two year programs and both are funded by the Lilly Foundation. (Somebody ought to write a story about us, don't you think? Or make a Disney movie...naw I guess that probably's asking for a little too much) Anyway, my brother took me to a lecture about Wendell Berry, led by a prof. from Hope College (where Christian musician Sufjan Stevens went). It was pretty good. But I was glad I wasn't in college or seminary anymore and could listen on my own time and not be thinking about what would be on the quiz.

Anyway, I had a great week down in Indiana. My parents and their dogs/my dogs were at my brother's too for the first few days I was there, and it was really good for us as a family to share some time together. We went to the Edvard Munch exhibit at the Chicago Institute of Art (one of my favorite places). I logged about three miles walking in the museum that day (I know because I have a pedometer as part of our church's "walking fast" this lent). Munch's amazing. He painted realities of relationships, city life, even death in some really surreal but powerful ways. And he was Norwegian so there's some cultural pride involved in my admiration for him. I'd like to blog more about his paintings and that exhibit if I get a chance.

And I'd like to blog about going to the chapel of the Resurrection and meeting my friend Darlene and how I found out she had been called to be the first female ELCA campus pastor at Valpo (a Missouri Synod school)... ahh the controversy. Sounds like she's doing great!

And then I'd like to blog more about my trip in my brother's new car (first new car ever for anyone in our family) and how we went to visit my friends who are pastors in Ohio and who now have a kid named Karl (Carl?) who is quite the one year old evangelist...

...And how we got in a big rig and hit the road as a traveling evangelical team.

But that didn't happen even though the pictures might make it seem possible...

And then I'd like to blog some more about going to ELCA headquarters on Thursday and seeing all the bishops there for their big conference and presenting some of my crazy innovative ideas for the ELCA to the Director of the Evangelical Outreach and Congregational Mission, and getting a tour of the facility.

That's me representing on Higgins Road. The Conference of Bishops was meeting in the room behind me.

And then I'd like to blog about blogging and how I wish I had more time to blog about all this stuff. But I'll get to it eventually. Right? We'll see, guys. This will do for the Cliff Notes version. Thanks for reading! Talk to you soon!--Josh

a holy experience

Sunday Morning: The Word of God was proclaimed. Babies were baptized. Communion was shared. I believe God was present at worship Sunday morning, it just didn’t feel like it to me. Most Sundays, even in the midst of leading worship, I’m able to worship at least in some way. I am able to feel God’s presence in some way. Sunday morning was not one of those days. Rather, I found myself distracted and worried about what was going on around me. Is the sermon going too long? Will the children knock over the Paschal candle during the Baptism? Am I going to run out of bread at Communion? These questions and other concerns ran through my head, keeping me from experiencing God in worship—keeping me from having an experience of the holy.

But, thankfully, I believe God isn’t confined to the walls of the church building.

Sunday Afternoon: God met me in a gymnasium (albeit converted into a recital hall) as I listened to seventy singers clothed in blue. The music I experienced during a choir concert washed over me and filled my soul, as only a Holy Spirit thing can do. Some of the music was familiar—old hymns in classic, rich arrangements. Other pieces were new to me. They made my foot tap in joy. I felt a smile come to my face as a deep male voice broke through the melody, as a high soprano voice sailed above the choir and as a brief sacred silence filled the air at the end of each piece. To try to describe my experience beyond this almost seems futile. After all, it was I believe an experience of God—an experience of the holy.

Thankfully, God meets us in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of places.

posted by Emmy.

flirting with change

Lent is a season for embracing change in our lives - whether it's giving up sugary foods or finding more time for prayer. For 40 days each year, we reconsider our habits and how they impact our relationship with God.

I recently embraced change in my own life by becoming a vegetarian. I've been meat-free for over a year now, and it feels fantastic. But this change was a long time coming.

For me, becoming a vegetarian was like slowly getting into a romantic relationship, and, over time, deciding to commit.

But it didn't happen all at once. At first came the crush.

In seminary, I became curious about vegetarians. I was intrigued. I tentatively imagined myself with plates of veggies and tofu, and I thought it might be fun. I'd heard good things about the social impact of vegetarianism, and I had never been crazy about meat anyway. The idea of making that change was attractive.

And so I flirted - trying vegetarian meals in the cafeteria, googling vegetarian recipes after class, finding soy and tofu and tempeh at the grocery store. And vegetarianism flirted back. The soy burgers were delicious. The tofu wasn't as bad as everyone said. And the "Gimme Lean" really was a lot like "Jimmy Dean"! I was head over heels before I knew it, and I wanted more.

And so, I sought out vegetarians friends and asked them if it really was as good as it looked, and they confirmed my hopes. I read articles on the benefits of vegetarianism, and I like what I learned. I could live a less violent lifestyle while doing healthy things for my body. I could prevent world hunger and reduce my carbon footprint while eating delicious food in the comfort of my own home. The more I got to know vegetarianism, the more I loved it. I weighed the pros and cons, and finally, taking a deep breath, I asked it to go steady.

I didn't want to see anyone else. Meat was nothing to me. I only had eyes for veggies and textured vegetable protein. There was no going back, and yet, I was not quite ready to commit. I needed to be sure. I didn't admit to being a vegetarian in public. When my friends asked if I had quit eating meat, I'd say, "I'm just trying this out for a while - it's nothing serious." I squirmed at the thought of never eating another slice of pepperoni pizza, of never satisfying my hunger for crispy, mouth-watering bacon, of never loading up a plate with the pulled-pork barbeque that my southern roots taught me to love. I was scared of commitment.

But, before I knew it, a month passed, then two. And I didn't miss the pepperoni, the bacon, the barbeque. I knew it was delicious, but I didn't need it anymore. I was a vegetarian, and I declared it to the world, or to my roommates, anyway. We were committed, and I knew we would last. We were a match made in heaven.

A year and four months in, things are going well. Vegetarianism feels so natural, it's like we've been together forever. We're a good fit. And while the change was slow-going, the time I took with it has helped it last.

Not all change is this simple, and not every issue fits this well. I've tried to change in other ways and called it quits much sooner. I renounced Diet Coke for a while, but I was guzzling soda again, three weeks in. And I try, occasionally, to do most of my shopping through fair trade companies. But then, I find myself, once again, in the express lane at a big-box store. I've had weeks when I've tried to greet everyone I see with a friendly smile, and two days in, I find my head down, focused on my next task and latest stressors. I'd like to be more generous, I'd like to tithe, and I'd like to give my possessions to the poor, but I'm just not ready to commit.

But I've found something I can commit to, something that fits, something that reminds me that change is possible. And for today, that's change enough.

posted by Marsha.

showers and baptism

Last night at Confirmation class, we talked about remembering our baptism during everyday activities, like when we wash the dishes, brush our teeth and take a shower. This crossed my mind in the shower this morning. You see, my shower was miserable. A little bit of warm water, spirts of cold water, a little bit of warm water, spirts of cold water. Aweful! Got me thinking: Baptism is like this. Most days my shower is great, refreshing me and cleansing me. Most days, remembering my baptism is a great thing, reminding me that I am a loved and forgiven child of God. But, some days-like my shower today-things are different. Some days the waters of baptism aren't so comfortable. In the baptism service in our worship book, we promise to "proclaim Christ through word and deed, care for others and the world God made, and work for justice and peace." When it comes right down to it, these things can be pretty uncomfortable things. For instance, talking about my faith in certain contexts, really caring for some people, and making choices that allow the best and most fair use of the resources can leave me in despair. Some days, the waters of baptism challenge me. In fact, some days it's kind of miserable, like trying to take a shower in cold water. But, as always I am reminded once again of the good news of those baptism waters--that I am loved and forgiven, no matter what!
posted by Emmy

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Hey, we're currently giving each other high fives. We'll get back to this when we are finished. Check back!