A Daughter of Eve

From Kimberly Roth at Jesus Manifesto:

I am a daughter of Eve.

I am a daughter of the woman who plucked fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, because it seemed good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom (and was also kind enough to share with her husband).

I am a daughter of the curse.

I am a son of God.

Through faith, I have been clothed with Christ Jesus and am neither male nor female but Christ, Abraham’s seed, living in me through the Spirit.

I am a son of the promise.

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Why is it that women in vocational ministry seems to be Christianity’s final frontier?

Ok, God, we can accept those Gentile believers, and we can even give up our slaves… but you can not be serious about that female thing?! Surely you’re not going to let Eve off the hook that easily. Did Jesus put you up to this? Do you have any idea how long it took us to live down that whole Deborah thing (and don’t even get me started on her friend Jael…)?

There seems to be a lot of fear surrounding what would happen if women were released to run amok in ministry, at least down here in the Bible belt. Children would be abandoned, meals would go unprepared, men would be disrespected in their own homes and left to pick up their own dirty underwear. Chaos would ensue. Theology would be twisted beyond recognition. Salvation as we know it would cease. Sunday school is one thing, but the entire Body of Christ… that’s just too much to consider.

I grew up with this attitude. It took God a long time to convice me that yes God could call me into leadership positions, and that it was okay that I DID NOT want to be a traditional wife, and do not want to have children. God used women like Deborah and Jael who were not typical wives, and the Bible does not even mention if they have children. God also used women like Mary Magdalene and Lydia–single women who were not linked to men, other than Jesus. God also used Priscilla and Aquilla who worked side by side making tents and pastoring churches. It’s been a long, and at times hard, road. I know I need to write about it. I have said that I would. I guess I need to start writing. I always put off telling my story. I guess I don’t think it’s that important. But may be it is important. May be I need to tell my story, so I can tell other women’s stories. I know that is far past time for Eve and her daughters to be redeemed.

How do you feel about telling your story?

7 Things Top Chef Taught Me

1. Don’t be mean. It makes you hard to work with, and is that how you really want to be remembered?

2. Don’t be afraid to experiment and explore. Yes, you might have the occasional mess, but you will also eat a lot of exquisite meals.

3. Live (and cook) from both the head and heart.

4. Be passionate and in love with what you do.

5. Taste your food before you serve it.

6. Admit when you’re wrong.

7. Chicago girls rule! (Yes, I was cheering for Stephanie!)

What Can I Do with My Body?

I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my body. You’d think that wouldn’t be a problem at 38. You’d think wrong. Of course Christianity really hasn’t known what to do with bodies. It’s not something we’ve ever been good at it. We’re good with the don’ts: Don’t drink, don’t smoke, and don’t have sex. But we’re never told what to do. As Barry Taylor told John Morehead:

A problem a lot of people have with Christianity is that it externalizes the spiritual experience that basically de-emphasizes the importance of this life but the real importance is where you go after this life. So you want to be ready for heaven. But there is very little advice about what to do with your body while you’re waiting for that experience: don’t do anything wrong, don’t be bad, accept the decay.

Barry goes on to say that this is strange considering that Christianity is “one of the most material spiritualities out there where we celebrate that God puts on flesh and lived as one of us.” Not only is it “a problem a lot of people have with Christianity,” it’s a problem a lot of Christians have with our own religion. Including me.

It doesn’t help that I grew up with a contradictory view of the body. On the one had i heard my body was the temple of the Holy Spirit. God lived in me. But I heard things like this a lot more: “The body is sinful flesh.” “The flesh is evil, and the Spirit is good.” “The body is the devil’s playground (or the mind depending on the preacher). And then there was “one day we’ll shed these evil, sinful bodies and go to heaven.” I don’t think I’ve ever quite believed the body was a temple, let alone my body. After all how can the flesh (i. e. the body) be evil, and the Spirit good, and my body be the temple of the Spirit?

But I am coming to see and believe that my body is good, Spirit-filled, and even holy. I am coming to believe that my body is the temple of the living God. Here are some of do’s:

Do be nice to your body.

Do tell your body it’s beautiful just the way it is.

Do get enough sleep.

Do yoga.

Do walk.

Do eat when you’re hungry.

Do rest when you’re tired.

How do you see your body? How has your relationship with your body changed? What are some of your do’s?

7 Things Tim Russert Taught Me

1. Family is always more important than work.

2. You can have strong faith, a strong family, and a strong career (and so can your spouse).

3. It’s okay to ask hard questions.

4. It’s okay to push people to answer hard questions.

5. Play hookie and go do something you love with someone you love.

6. Do what you love in all of life.

7. At the end of the day (or the end of the primary), smile, laugh, and talk about baseball.

The picture is from MSNBC.com.

Tim Russert dead at 58

Tim Russert died today of a heart attack. I didn’t always agree with him, but I always loved watching him back politicians against the wall and not letting them off with easy outs. And good for Tim for playing hookie at work to take his son to baseball games. Rest in peace Tim.

Almighty God, we remember before you today your faithful servant Tim Russert; and we pray that, having opened to him the gates of larger life, you will receive him more and more into your joyful service, that, with all who have faithfully served you in the past, he may share in the eternal victory of Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (From The Book of Common Prayer)

Russ, Maureen and Luke, may the God of all comforts, comfort you now. May you feel God’s love and peace and know the hope you have: that you will be reunited in God’s kingdom.

RevGals Friday Five: Beach Trip

Mother Junia writes: In honor of summer, please share your own beachy memories, plans, and dreams with a “Beach Trip” Friday Five.

1. Ocean rocks, lake limps? Vice versa? Or “it’s all beautiful in its own way”? I love the ocean–the waves, the buoyant water, everything. But I live right next to Lake Michigan, and a really big freshwater lake is fine by me too.

2. Year round beach living: Heaven…or the Other Place? During warm weather heaven, but during the winter when the wind in coming off the lake brrrrr. Really can’t call it hell: too cold. 😉 Barcelona was the same way.

3. Any beach plans for this summer? Yep, there’s beach nearby, and I plan on getting to it.

4. Best beach memory ever? Swimming in the Mediterranean.

5. Fantasy beach trip? The Great Barrier Reef in Australia.

Bonus: Share a piece of music/poetry/film/book that expresses something about what the beach means to you.

Here’s a poem I wrote about the Mediterranean when I lived in Barcelona.

“Wading in the Sea”

I waded in the Mediterranean as the tide was rising
The blue-green, aquamarine jewels invited me
Off came my shoes and socks as the wind blew from the sea.
As the sun-lit diamonds twinkled very bewitching
Out I waded into the sea.

The cold waters made my feet zing
As I walked on the shore slowly, breathing deeply
The sea air which made my cheeks pink and rosy.
The sheer beauty of the moment made my heart sing
As I waded in the sea.

 

The sun’s rays brought warmth to my face
A stark contrast to the cold which nipped my toes
I looked out to where the sea ended and the horizon rose.
The snow-capped waves created an endless maze
As I waded in the sea.

 

My heart was light and I felt care-free
For a few minutes I had no worries
For a moment lost in time there is no hurry
I felt as if the world was at my feet
As I waded in the sea.

 

© 1997 Shawna Renee Bound

Why Theology Is Not a 4-Letter Word

What do you mean: “Theology Is Not a 4-Letter Word”? Of course it isn’t. But a lot of people in the Christian tradition treat theology that way. You hear a lot about it, but it’s not something one should talk about in polite company. Theology is seen as a scholary discipline that has very little (if anything) to do with our everyday life. But theology has everything to do with our daily life.

Theology is our relationship with God, and how we talk about our relationship with God. Theology talks about who God is, how God acts in our world, and God’s relationship with God’s creation. Theology is our relationship with God–both our personal relationships and our corporate relationship as a community of faith and the universal church. Theology is where we see God at work in our homes, neighborhoods, and our world.

All of life is theology because all of life is from God.

RevGals Friday Five: Taking in the View

Sally says: This week I took some time out to stop and walk and take in the view; my son Chris is studying in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, too often we simply drive up there, turn around and come home! This time Tim and I took time out to take in the view. It occurs to me that we need to do that more in life….
With that in mind I offer you this weeks Friday Five:
1. How important is the “big picture” to you, do you need a glimpse of the possibilities or are you a details person?

I am a big picture person, and I need someone around to point out the details. Good thing I married him.

2. If the big picture is important to you how do you hold onto it in the nitty gritty details of life?

My Hubby reminds me of them. I also find having a routine helps.

3. Name a book, poem, psalm, piece of music that transports to to another dimension ( one….what am I thinking….)

Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere: A Novel.

4.Thinking of physical views, is there somewhere that inspires you, somewhere that you breathe more easily?

By any big body of water. The Mediterranean is my favorite so far. And I’m not going to complain about living right on Lake Michigan either!

5. A picture opportunity… post one if you can ( or a link to one!)

The Curse of Being Self-Employed

I work from home too much. I do. I am a self-employed homebody. “Oh you poor thing,” you’re thinking, “such a curse.” Sometimes it is. Because sometimes it makes me feel like a glorified housewife. I’m a writer. I’m a freelance writer. I’ve sold some, and opportunities are slowly trickling in, but I have yet to approach anything like a regular, consistent income. I work at home, and I don’t make a lot of money. Then something happens that really makes me feel like a glorified housewife instead of a writing entrepenuer.

My husband and I have friends visiting this much. Earlier in the week (but after the weekend), The Hubby says, “The deadline for the project I’m working on is due Friday, so I’m going to be working late this week, to get it done.”

“Okay,” I said. I didn’t marry until I was 36. I can eat supper alone for a few days. But that’s not all.

“While B & J are in town, they’ll probably be coming over, so the place really needs to be cleaned.”

But he’s working late every night this week. So that means…. Yep, that means me. Thankfully Lainie is coming over to help, so I can get some work done today. But still why couldn’t he (or me) think of the cleaning over the weekend (after all we knew they would be here) when we were both not working and both home?

With my fear of being a glorified housewife who’s just pretending to be a writer, I assume that he assumes that I am the one who should be cleaning the house. Of course, I know better. He does help. But the last couple of weeks, we…well let’s just say we have not been the best housekeepers. Things have piled up, the floors are filthy, and there are cat hair tumbleweeds the size of guinea pigs rolling around. When The Hubby makes a comment about the state of the floors, I automatically get apologetic. After all I should have been doing a better job. What? Wait a minute! Back up! Why am I assuming it’s automatically my job to keep things clean? We agreed when we got married, he was helping with the housework. I was not doing everything. So why am I assuming that I should have been the one keeping the floors clean? Instead what I should have said is, “Yeah, we should have been doing a better job of cleaning the last couple of weeks.”

Of course, when I feel like I’m a glorified housewife who’s pretending to be a writer, and thinking that I should be doing a better of job of “keeping house,” I get snarky. And I was snarky before The Hubby left for work. (Sorry honey!)

So there you have it: the curse of being self-employed working at home. So may be I need to work at the library more.

Great Indepth Article about Obama and Wright

Dwight Hopkins at The Immanent Frame has posted a great article detailing the differences between Barak Obama and Rev. Jeremiah Wright, and why their parting of ways was inevitable. Here are a few excerpts:

Barack Obama is white and black and immigrant and multicultural. His mother and his grandparents hail from a white, heartland America and semi-rural America. Growing up with a white mother and white grandparents, Obama caught a glimpse of how many white citizens expect society and government to respond to their needs. Socialization processes in the U.S. (i.e., media, education, movies, power positions, etc.) produce white citizens who imagine whatever options they wish to choose in life. Not only can one envision different options, one can also decide to implement and, thus, realize those dreams. Despite his grandmother mentioning her fears of inner city black people, Obama grew up in a predominantly white environment that nurtured a view of government and American citizens as working together so each citizen could realize their desires. This perspective invites a career as a politician.

Obama also emerges from an immigrant sensibility. His father was from Kenya and immigrated to the U.S. to get a prestigious education. Barack Obama, Sr. did not come to America to find the American dream—get married, have children, and seek permanent residence and naturalized citizenship. Rather, he saw the U.S. as a place to obtain the best resources and then return back to his own home in Kenya. Senior Obama’s consciousness and history were not rooted in the black American story. Rather, his heart and priority were at home in Kenya.

In contrast, Jeremiah A. Wright, Jr. hails from inner city Philadelphia and from a black family that traces parts of its roots back to Virginia and the slavery era. And Wright is a third generation black preacher.

Wright’s world was intensely racialized by the awareness of Africa’s contributions to humanity, his slavery history, northern racial discrimination, and the segregation he encountered when he went south for his B.A. degree. At the same time, he grew up in a loving household and city where blacks told folk tales, recounted the heroics of enslaved blacks, swayed with jazz rhythms, doo wop, and R&B, and played the dozens on ghetto street corners. Wright knew about other great black achievements such as the Harlem Renaissance, A. Phillip Randolph’s threat against FDR if the president didn’t integrate the armed services, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X.

Wright emerged out of a specific lineage of black preaching. His father was a big name Baptist preacher in Philadelphia and he, too, was a son of a Baptist preacher. Thus Jeremiah Wright, Jr. symbolizes three generations of the prophetic wing of the black church, one where Christianity is empty rhetoric if not linked to social justice and occasional prophetic denunciation of the powerful.

Wright and Obama—the preacher and the politician, race and multiculturalism—have different parental, geographic, historical, and personal experiences. Yet both agree on the Bible as being partial to the poor. Both agree on church function as organizing justice.

Wright is deeply connected to a segregated black community and the importance of its voice and its ability to obtain resources for living. From that particularity, he bridges into conversation and coalition with all of America. In contrast, Obama begins with a vision for all of America. From that perspective, blacks are simply one strand among many in a larger narrative about whites and blacks (as well as yellows, browns, and reds) being their brothers’ and sisters’ keepers.

Go read the whole thing and let me know what you think.