welcome: your citizenship is in heaven

At the church where I've been working, it's customary to share some piece of poetry or inspiration as part of the welcoming time in the service. Here's something I wrote up for yesterday's, inspired by the bit in last Sunday's lectionary about citizenship in heaven.

Your Citizenship is in Heaven
Phillipians 3:18-4:1

When they tell you that you have no place here
when they tell you that you are not important enough,
not ordinary enough, not quiet enough
to fit in here:
say it, out loud or silently:
My citizenship is in heaven.

When they mock you, when they fear you,
when they refuse to sit next to you in the bus
or in the church sanctuary
tell them, out loud or silently:
My citizenship is in heaven.

When they tell you that you don't belong here
because you have the wrong papers
because you weren't born here
because you don't have a job or
because you don't have a family:
write it on your protest signs
and door frames and hearts:
your citizenship is in heaven.

When they try to keep you in your dead-end job,
your dead-end life;
your category, your gender, your nationality:
Remember: you cannot be contained
you are in league with the Risen One
your citizenship is in heaven.

some days all i see is the cloud #2: three clouds, and me here wondering which will outlast the others

this is a poem that I brought to my friend C's birthday ritual the other day. for a while I thought it was going to be a song, but then I was too lazy to rhyme it.

some days all i see is the cloud #2: three clouds, and me here wondering which will outlast the others

some days my sidewalk seems clear:
lik the fog has lifted,
like my friendships are all easy,
like there is nothing to fear.

other days i only speak failure
i can't trust even my own heart
i can't walk for the murkiness:
some days all i see is the cloud.


some days i am absolutely certain
where Jesus is sitting,
and where he's patting the ground,
for me to lie down with my head in his lap.

other days, God is more invisible than immortal,
and i can't eat mystery,
and the unknowing will not sustain me:
some days all i see is the cloud.

on days when God and despair hang together
like thunder and lightning-
it is good to have some witnesses:
the sacred few and many-those pieces
of myself that walk the wider world.

some days, though leagues and odysseys would claim us separate,
they, like bread, like salt, like water in my body
are close enough to carry me
(with their arms entwined like a zipper
like keys on a piano
like books on my shelf):
some days all i see is the cloud.

on my ordination council

As many readers will already know, I was approved for ordination by the Rochester Gennesee Region of the American Baptist Churches USA on January 31. I'm pretty happy about it, and it has been a long time coming, by some measures.

You know, when I sat down beforehand, I thought I might try to think about what kinds of questions I was likely to be asked, and what my answers might be. The story is that they go through your ordination paper, which talks about what you believe about God and the church and your call and your life and stuff, and they can ask you whatever questions they want. ("They" being a mix of pastors and lay folks, basically whoever shows up. There were about 25 or 30 people at mine, I'd say.)

Here's the thing: when I sat down to write about this, to brainstorm possible questions and my own possible answers, here's what I wrote instead. I liked it, so I read it to open the Council, and I'm putting it up here. There's three of these, in good Trinitarian format. (I only read the first one out loud...)

in no particular ordre:


by the harrowing of hell
by the wounds transformed
by the dry bones walking
by the tenacious widow
by the sea that makes way
by the star, by the bush burning:
by the tongues of fire,
and by the empty tomb:

the Risen Jesus demands
my presence in this place.



---

by iorek byrneson
by poncho starboard,
by maniac magee-
by wonky the duck,
by bearface and kleeborg
by charles finney,
by ammon hennacy,
by rick lance, gamma boy:
by the Right Reverend Stuckle Ninehammer,
and by Jeff Jones aka Klanky Pankelsmank:

the Spirit of God demands
my presence in this place.

---

by rachael and by my mother,
by emily jones and digger,
by mary and steve and ted,
by becca and kyle,
by sharon yetter and the wynns,
by mark peoples and mark winters,
by joanne terrell and lee butler,
by arlen vernava and alan newton,
by david gregg and larry greenfield,
by my dad and my sister and randy and kenneth,
by phyllis toback and pastor rosa,
by eliza nad nate metrick,
by nate dannison and tom ryberg
by madeliene, chris, korie and lauren,
by corrigan, brian, will, and ben,
by lisa, bj, megan and grace,
by liang and floyd and sophia,
by becky and mary, by layne and raisa,
by susand and emo,
by dave and tena,
by carolyn and mike
by all of the peacheys
by sylvia and carolina
and by their children:

God
demands my presence in this place.

---

standing on the shoulders of giants,
dw

Jared Malsin held in Israel

Here's a press release from Ma'an, the newspaper that my friend Jared works for in Palestine.



Dear Friends,

American jounalist, Jared Malsin, was detained Tuesday by immigration services at Ben Gurion airport, Tel Aviv, as he returned from vacation with his girlfriend Faith.

Jared is the chief editor of the English language desk at Ma’an News Agency in Bethlehem, and also my next-door neighbor. He was due to be exported yesterday morning, but thankfully an attorney hired on his behalf by Ma’an managed to file an injuction that has kept him in the country and scheduled a deportation hearing for Sunday.

He is currently being hekd in detention, and is receiving little of the rights he should be afforded. Jared is a professional journalist, and is in no way, shape, or form a security threat to the state of Israel.

He is suffering due to the desire of the Israeli government to suppress any voice that challenges the continued heinous actions of the Israeli state, in Jared’s case through his work as a journalist.

Israel is trampling over the freedom of the press, and seems to only grant this to those who toe the line.

Due to time constraints and the fact that much has been written in the last few days about the situation, I emplore you to read the following articles and grant me a tremendous favour.

What we are asking of you is to contact the Israeli embassy in your home country to express your disgust at the suppression of the press, and the unnecessary suffering that Jared has experienced in the last few days.

A phone call would be remarkable, but if you would prefer not to please, please contact them via email. If anyone would like a sample letter to use I can forward you the letter that I emailed the Israili embassy in London.

Time is of the essence. This afternoon is the final opportunity to contact the embassies before they close for the weekend, and the final chance before Jared’s hearing on Sunday.

The following are some of the articles that I have come across that provide excellent information:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mya-guarnieri/israel-cracks-down-on-the_b_422994.html

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8458566.stm

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2010/01/13/world/AP-ML-Israel-Palestinians.html?_r=1

http://mondoweiss.net/2010/01/american-journalist-critical-of-israel-is-detained-at-ben-gurion.html

http://www.maannews.net/eng/ViewDetails.aspx?ID=253864

http://www.maannews.net/eng/ViewDetails.aspx?ID=254286

http://www.maannews.net/eng/ViewDetails.aspx?ID=254303


Please contact the Israeli embassies in your home countries. It would mean the world to us here, and also pass the information to everyone you know via email, facebook, etc. and request that they follow your lead. It could make a huge difference.

For updates on this continuing story please visit the Ma’an website.

Thank you so much for any help you can provide.

Nathan

Megan's New Project

Hey Friends,

Megan consolidated her "10 Churches in 10 Weeks" posts into a new blog- and she's going on another 10 visits!

Check it out: 10churches.blogspot.com.

Happy visiting, Megan!

-DW

wings, crooks, straw

These are the draft texts for the three stories I'm going to tell tonight at the First Baptist Church of Berwyn Christmas Eve Service. So, if you're coming, don't read them.

Merry Christmas, internet.

wings

tone: regal, bold, ancient, majestic. Stand tall, move gracefully.

I've been an angel since the dawn of time, but I don't pretend to understand the mind of God.

Look: being an angel is pretty simple: you adore the throne of God, and you deliver messages for God.

I was good at it, I guess, as good as you can be at something that's just in your nature. Are you good at breathing? Then, I guess I'm good at delivering messages for God.

Most of the time the messages were pretty straight-forward; You, So and so, daughter of such and such. Go to this appointed place and do this appointed thing.

Other times, it was giving someone a message to pass on from God. Tell Pharoah to let my people go, that sort of thing. Big things and little things, scary things and hopeful things. Since the dawn of time, as I said, I've been delivering messages from God.

Things were always straight-forward: people were people, God was God, and I was an angel. You could tell I wasn't one of the people, because I had wings. You've seen them in paintings, but mortal paintings don't do angel wings justice. They are pure reflections of the glory of God. You can tell when you're seeing an angel, because of those wings.

Then came that night. That terrible, holy night. For the first time, since the dawn of time, I didn't know what to do when I got the message. It didn't make sense. It's not like I always know why God wants so and so to go do such and such, but this!

God was becoming incarnate. God was going to have a body. God was going to be a human being, a person.

I would have argued with God, but such is not in my nature.

And there was more- the people I was supposed to tell about it! Sure, God talks to all kinds of people, and I've delivered some messages to all kinds of people, but this! The most momentous event since the dawn of time, and I wasn't supposed to tell the rulers- the kings, the emperor. I wasn't supposed to tell the priests in the temple, and I wasn't even supposed to tell that many people. Just some homeless shepherds, out in the fields.

But I went. Because I am an angel of the Lord, and I've been delivering messages from God since the dawn of time.

Look. I should mention this other thing.

I like being an angel, I do. But it's often kind of lonely work. You're delivering messages to people, you see, you know, once. And you're adoring the throne. And there are other angels, but you don't ever see them, really- it only takes one of you to deliver a message, after all.

So the first thing that night, was what I was proclaiming.

And the second thing, that night, was who I was proclaiming it to.

And the third thing, that night, was that after I gave my message, I looked and saw another angel, there in the sky, and another and another until the sky was full.

...

So... After that night, after that child, things have been different.

I don't know about the wings thing, anymore. Used to be there were clear differences: God and human beings, angels with wings and people without them.

But now...

On that night, heaven and earth kissed one another. And they haven't stopped embracing since.

And now, whenever I see people: all people, any people: I see them all with wings.

Crooks

tone: almost broken, tired, world-weary, unflinchingly tough. Shrug a lot.

I suppose I shouldn't have been suprised. It's been happening this way for hundreds of years. When I was a kid, things were okay for us. I was the only daughter. We had a little farm. But the Romans said my parents owed too much in taxes, and they sold the farm to a big landowner. Whether they actually owed the money or not, what could we do?

So, with no land there was no money, and with no money there was no dowry, and with no dowry, I didn't have a lot of options. I'm grateful for how it worked out, I guess. The shepherd job I got, for that same big landowner, is much better than what some women in my situation have had to do.

But it's not a great job. The pay is lousy, just enough to scrape by, and you're deeper in debt every year. The conditions are bad, too: sleeping out every night. It gets cold, even this time of year. You can never really sleep when you're looking after sheep- you never know when one will get attacked or injured or sick. And there are other dangers, for a woman shepherd, in the wilderness. It got to the point where I was a little bit cold all the time, and tired all the time, too.

The other shepherds were alright, some of them, but they didn't really think women should be shepherds so they were allies at best. When I was a kid I would have laughed at what shepherds thought: dirty, poor, foul-smelling shepherds. But now, here I am.

And this is all to say nothing of the sheep. Dirty, stupid, mean. Just as soon bite you as look at you, these sheep anyway. So, I was surviving, but...

And then that night. I don't know whether it was more miraculous that God became a human being or that God wanted to tell me about it. Me and my shepherd friends. Angels came. To us. To us!

So we went, to see the child. What else could we do?

When I went to see the child, I didn't feel tired. I didn't feel outcast, I didn't feel poor, I didn't feel foul-smelling.

Instead I felt faithful. I felt joyful. I felt triumphant.

And it's how I feel now. (shrug.)

Straw

tone: nervous, anxious. Excited, a little bit. Until the end. Wring your hands and scratch, awkwardly. Talk kind of fast.

I guess the funny thing is that I was feeling like everything was coming together for me. I was starting off in my father's business, and like, I finally had some money coming in, and my family set me up with this girl, that everybody said would be, would be a good wife.

But then, the girl- Mary- she got pregnant, and it wasn't my baby, I knew that much, and people were saying all kinds of things about what I should do, but I decided that I should just you know, break things off quietly, not make a big deal about it, not get her into trouble. I was just trying to do the right thing, you know? And she had enough problems without me adding to it.

So that's what I was going to do, and I was all set to do it...

when...

I had this dream or this vision or I don't even really know what it was, but after that it seemed like I should stay with her, like I should still marry her.

But then, right away, she left for three months to visit her relative, and I don't blame her, but it was just hard to be on my own in all of that, and people in the village were talking about her, and us, and they were talking about me. And I was worried that it would hurt my business, hurt my family, and everything...

So when she came back, and then things looked like they were going to get easier, then of course the romans decide they haven't been keeping us under control efficiently enough, so there's this whole census thing and I have to go back to where my family is, and of course Mary is just so pregnant, and I don't have to tell you it was a difficult trip for her.

And through it all she was just remarkably calm, you know, even when we got to Bethlehem and I couldn't find anybody who knew where I was, and nobody would let us stay in their inn because I think they were waiting for somebody with more money because it was crowded there from the census and anything. And pretty soon we were desperate just to find a place out of the noise and cold and awful of the streets. Nobody wants to sleep on the street, and definitely nobody wants to give birth on the street and Mary was pretty sure it was her time.

And the way she looked at me, when we walked into the stable, as it was becoming apparent that it was this stable or the streets, and the way she looked at me, the way we looked at each other. It was like, “well, here we are, and we sure as hell didn't plan it to happen this way, but this is what's happening, so hey, here we are.”

Because there were animals everywhere, and it was out of the wind, sure, but it wasn't all that warm, and it was a stable, you know, which is to say it was filthy, and there was straw on the ground that was matted with dirt and muck, and that was going to be our bed, that was where she was going to give birth. Not a bed, or even a mat, but just dirty, smelly straw!

And all through that night, while she was in birth pain I was just worrying. I mean, I was trying to help, but there was only so much I could do, and so there was a lot of time just to worry.

And I worried about my business.

And I worried about my family.

And I worried about Mary.

And I worried about the Romans and their census and their taxes and their soldiers.

And I worried about this child, this baby, I worried about whose it was, whether what the people said about it was true, whether what I dreamed about it was true, and I just worried, all night long.

But.

After the baby came, there was a moment. There was a moment that seemed like it was going to be brief, but truth be told, it has continued. When I saw the baby, when I held the child still covered in blood from the birth.

I knew that things were going to be different. That all of the things that I had been worried about- my job and my family and the Romans and who the father was. All of that didn't matter. This child, this baby scattered all of those worries to the wind. He scattered them like straw.

Apocalyptic Love Song Stop-Motion Animation

Lisa made a killer (ha ha) stop-motion animation of the love song that Corrigan and I wrote.