What Is a Mother?

In the RevGals Wednesday Festival, EarthenSoul was mourning that, at this point in her life, she would never have children. I am unable to have children due to health problems. Like EarthenSoul and Her Mate, My Hubby and I have decided not to adopt due to how old we will be when we get the kids off to college! Sally posted the wonderful prayer below in the comments on the post. It spoke to me and resonated in my heart. In the past few years, I have come to realize that just because I cannot have children does not mean I cannot nurture and love others and give birth to new ideas, books, and projects for the Kingdom of God. In fact, as a pastor I get to do one of the most incredible things there is: I get to love, nurture, and lead people into an intimate relationship with God. If that’s not mothering, I don’t know what is! I take my example from Deborah, who is called “a mother in Isreal” (Judges 5:6). Deborah is not called a mother because of her biological children. She is a mother for leading and defending the people of Israel, which were her children. Here is the prayer that Sally left for earthsoul and the rest of us who are unable to have children. It is from Nicola Slee’s “Praying like a woman.”

Though this belly has never been swollen with the burden of a baby, let me grow big with the longing for justice which will be for all of the children of God.

Though these breasts have never suckled an infant, let my largess of love nurture those who are hungry for the feast of life.

Though these arms have never cradled my own child, let them reach out tenderly to those who pine for a mothers love.

Though these lips have never spoken my own babies name, let me croon blessing and balm and healing on many a charmless unlullabied life.

Though this mind cannot truly imagine my own childs life, may I dream dreams for children whose prospects are pitiful and whose hopes are slender.

And though I have wept over my unborn child’s unfulfilled possibilities,
may I never be so absorbed in my own small griefs that I have not compassion to weep with the motherless child, and the childless mother, to grieve the abandoned infant and to rage over the still born babe.To sorrow over the squandered life and to lament over each uncherished son and daughter.

May I offer these arms,
Open this heart,
proffer this body,
to each baby screaming for justice,
each child reaching for love
each neighbour longing for mercy
each mother mourning the useless spilling of blood.

Childless and childbearing we belong together

We are each offspring of the body of God.

A New Old Hymn

In the Noonday Day Prayer at Street Prophets, Sweet Georgia Peach started with a wonderful hymn I had never seen before by Marcus Aurelius Clemens Prudentius. Prudentias was born in Spain in 348 A. D. He came from a wealthy family, and he became lawyer. Later he rose to the rank of judge over several cities, and then he served in the court of Theodosius I. At the age of 57 he wrote:

Now, the, at last, close on the very end of life,
May yet my sinful soul put off her foolishness;
And if by deeds it cannot, yet, at least, by words give praise to God,
Join day to day by constant hymns,
Fail not each night in songs to celebrate the Lord,
Fight against heresies, maintain the Catholic faith.

He spent the rest of life writing poems and hymns to God. He has been called “”the prince of early Christian poets,” and “the Horace and Virgil of the Christians.” Many of his poems have been translated and made into hymns. This is one of them.

“Of the Father’s Love Begotten”

Of the Father’s love begotten,
ere the worlds began to be,
he is Alpha and Omega,
he the source, the ending he,
of the things that are, that have been,
and that future years shall see,
evermore and evermore!

At his word the worlds were framèd;
he commanded; it was done:
heaven and earth and depths of ocean
in their threefold order one;
all that grows beneath the shining
of the moon and burning sun,
evermore and evermore!

O that birth for ever blessèd,
when the Virgin, full of grace,
by the Holy Ghost conceiving,
bare the Savior of our race;
and the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
first revealed his sacred face,
evermore and evermore!

RevGals Friday Five: Floods and Drought

Sally said: Here in the UK we are struggling with floods, other parts of the world have similar problems without the infrastructure to cope with it, still others are badly affected by drought…. My son Jon is in Melbourne Australia where apparently it has been snowing ( yes it is winter but still!)…. With crazy weather in mind I bring you this weeks Friday 5…

1. Have you experienced living through an extreme weather event- what was it and how did you cope?

Yes, the first year I moved to Kansas City, we had something like eight inches of rain fall in an hour, and there was flooding everywhere. I stayed in.

The first year I moved into my house in KC we had a big ice storm that knocked out power for about a week before the crews were able to get the electricity back up and going. I did my best to stay warm until friends of mine got their power back up, and I went to stay with them.

2. How important is it that we wake up to issues such as global warming?

I think it’s very important. This is where we have to live and our children and generations after us. It’s our responsibility to do everything we can to give them an earth that they can live on.

3. The Christian message needs to include stewardship of the earths resources agree/ disagree?

I absolutely agree. God made us stewards of God’s creation. We are obligated to do everything in our power to preserve the earth and make it a better place than we found it. Creation does not belong to us; we’re just renting. It’s time Christians remembered that and got serious about taking care of God’s creation.

And because it is summer- on a brighter note….

4. What is your favourite season and why?

Fall. I love the changing leaves and the wild changes in the weather. I especially love how the wind howls and has a wild edge to it like it’s saying anything is possible and anything can happen.

5. Describe your perfect vacation weather….

Mid to uppper 70s, nice breeze and some lazy clouds floating by the sun.

The picture is “Universe in God’s Hands” by Farid De La Ossa Arrieta.

Work as Play

After my 30-page week, I wrote 18 pages last week on my novel. Not as many, but I introduced a new character and had to develop her. I also had to remember something I read in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way:

Growth is an erratic movement: two steps forward, one step back. . . . You are capable of great things on Tuesday, but on Wednesday you may slide back. This is normal. Growth occurs in spurts. You will lie dormant sometimes. . . . Very often, a week of insights will be followed by a week of sluggishness.

At times like this Cameron says that we need to be kind to ourselves. She says one of the biggest mistakes artists of any stripe make is that we are too hard on ourselves. We are never going to get anywhere if all we are going to do is beat ourselves up. Our inner artist does not like that and hides. Well wouldn’t you, if someone beat up on you all the time? I am on week nine now and something she said really struck me:

Enthusisam (from the Greek “filled with God”) is an ongoing energy supply tapped nto the flow of life itself. Enthusiasm is grounded in play, not work. Far from being a brain-numbed soldier, our artist is actually our child within, our inner playmate. As with all play mates, it is joy, not duty, that makes for a lasting bond.

True our artist may rise at dawn to greet the typewriter or easel in the morning stillness but this event has more to do with a child’s love of secret adventure than with ironclad discipline. What other people may view as discipline is actually a play date that we make with our artist child: “I’ll meet you at 6:00 a.m. and we’ll goof around with a script, painting, sculpture . . .”

Our artist child can best be enticed to work by treating work as play. Paint is great gooey stuff. Sixty sharp pencils are fun. Many writers eschew a computer for the comforting, companionable clatter for a solid typewriter that trots along like a pony. In order to work well, many artists find that their work spaces are best dealt with a play spaces.

It hit me why this last year had been so hard for me: I was so hard on myself. I was treating my artist like a soldier. We have to do this! We have to do that! Good night, no wonder I had no creativity and had absolutely no idea what to write. It’s now totally changing as I look at my writing as something I can play with and have fun with. I can say to my inner artist: Hey you want to see what Kathryn is up to today? You want to see what kind of trouble she gets into? And my inner artist perks up. She’s interested in that, instead of me saying, “We have to do this and that”, and “This what it means to be a professional writer” like some self-destructive drill sergeant.

It is so foreign from what the world the tells us: we have to be tough on ourselves to get ahead and get what we want. We have to have our nose to the grindstone and go, go, go. There must be production; there must be results. But creativity does not work that way. Creativity needs to be nurtured and given space. The inner artist needs a play area not a 10 mile hike. I’ve noticed as I have started being nicer to myself (and my inner artist) that more ideas are coming. That writing is easier. That it’s okay if I’m not that productive one day because there’s tomorrow, and who knows what me and my inner artist will find to get into and play with tomorrow?

Housecleaning

I wanted to let those who have left comments in the last week know that I have caught up, with not only making sure moderated comments are posted, but answering them as well. So if you’ve left a comment recently, it is showing up, and I have responded. I hope everyone has a great week!

I am brainstorming ideas for future posts, so if there is a subject you would like me to consider, feel free leave it the comments.

Short Hops: Bethelehem, Visiting Church, and Prayer

At God’s Politics Becky Garrison interviewed Rev. Dr. Mitri Raheb, a Palestinian pastor. He is the senior pastor at the Evangelical Lutheran Christian Church in Bethlehem.

The conflict in Gaza is a very difficult one. People now are convinced that we are dealing with so much politics, but there is no concern for the “polis,” for the city and community … and that there is too much religion in Palestine and yet too little spirituality. We have too many peace-talkers and only a few peacemakers. Our mission is therefore about caring for the community not through words but deeds. Our mission is to introduce a different kind of spirituality that gives people room to breath. Here at our center we show the potential for our people and country in a way that people can touch with their own hands. It’s all about giving a foretaste of the kingdom to come here and now and in the midst of a difficult context.

In Razzmatazz or Ragamuffins two non-Christians have been paid to visit churches in Toronto. Here are some of their thoughts:

The paid church visitors also made a stop at the Sanctuary, a downtown congregation with deep involvement in the community—particularly with the homeless and poor. The Sanctuary provides free meals and cloths as well as medical care to those in need. One visitor’s first impression was telling:

I could tell then and there we had found what this experiment was set out to accomplish, a church that saw past the money, power and the heighten sense of moral superiority that we have grown accustomed to. Charity, real charity. About time.

He continues…

I was floored, for close to a month now I have been told of all the wonderful things the Christian church provides without any physical evidence of its truth, but here it is, in the flesh. I have to smile, we have traveled to the city’s massive churches where thousands worship and yet we find what we are looking for in a turnout of 35 on Sunday.

This is the only Church where the majority of time, finances and energy is NOT spent on the Sunday service. At Sanctuary, it actually would have been unfair to only score them on their Sunday service, the smallest part of what they do.

At Theolog’s Blogging Toward Sunday, William Willimon wonders why the prayers we pray in church are so different from the way Jesus taught his followers to pray.

In most churches I visit, a time of prayer is often preceded by a time of “Joys and Concerns.” I notice that in every congregation, the only concerns expressed are concerns for people in the congregation who are going through various health crises. Prayer becomes what we used to refer to as “Sick Call” in the army. Where on earth did we get this idea of prayer? Not from Jesus. He healed a few people from time to time, but he doesn’t pray for that. He prays for the coming of God’s kingdom, for bread (but only on a daily basis, not for a surplus) and for forgiveness for our trespasses. It’s curious that physical deterioration has become the contemporary North American church’s main concern in prayer. Jesus is most notable for teaching that we are to pray—not for recent gall bladder surgery—but for our enemies!

Where I have been

I haven’t been blogging much because I have been working on my novel. I finally have a plot, and it is starting to move along. I wrote 30 pages last week. Woot! And I’m hoping to get in the same this week.

One of my best friends also came up Friday for a visit (she lives in Bloomington, IL), and we had a great day. Jen and I saw the 5th Harry Potter movie on Friday the 13th, which we thought was cool. We also wore all black. When we worked together a group of us always wore black on Friday the 13th and called it Black Friday. Jeremy was very jealous we got to be together on Black Friday, but he dressed in black too, so we were together in spirit. We also went to Navy Pier. They still have the stained glass exhibit up, so we walked through that. It was up when my parents were here, and I was hoping it was still showing because I knew Jen would love it. Then we headed to Canady’s Le Choclatier for some gelato (yes the chocolatier in my building). In fact, this is the best gelato you will ever have, so if you are in Chicago head to Canady’s which is on Wabash between 8th and 9th Streets. Then we came up to the condo and had tea before Jen left. It was a great day. Because Jen was up on Friday, and I took the day off, I worked Saturday on the novel to meet my goal.

This morning found me back to work on the novel. I didn’t make much headway today. I’ve introduce a new character, and I’m still learning who she is. So the writing has been slow until she decides to let me know who she is and what she’s thinking. That’s okay because I think she is going to be a very important part of the story, and I want her to be well developed and three dimensional.

Now I need to figure out what I want to make for dinner. My stomach has been upset most of the day, so I’m thinking something that’s not too spicy and with biscuits. Biscuits just sound good. And I am not talking about those plastic hockey pucks out of a tube. Those are not biscuits. Oh no, I am talking homemade, light flaky biscuits that melt in your mouth. Uh oh–I need flour, white flour. Although I do have wheat flour, but normally I do half white and half wheat, so they are not too heavy. Well the grocery store is only two blocks away; I might have to make a quick trip.  And that means I need to sign off and get going. I hope everyone has a great week.

Chicken-fried Ministry

Jesus was Samaria sitting by a well when a woman came to draw water. They talk about things: living water, her bad track record with men, the proper place to worship, and the Messiah. In fact, she is the first person Jesus directly says, “I am the Messiah.” The woman runs back to her village to tell the people about Jesus. While she is gone, the disciples tell Jesus to eat. The reason they left was to go buy food. But Jesus says that he has already eaten: that doing the will the one who sent him is his food and drink (see John 4). Here is a reflection that Bob Benson wrote on this passage:

The disciples spread the lunch and told Jesus it was time to eat. But He tells them He has already eaten. They looked around for a McDonald’s bag or some evidence of some lunch. Noth that I think He would throw trash on the ground.

“May be somebody else brought Him some foood,” they wondered.

“And He explained, “I had lunch with my Father.”

We call it work. He said it was meat and drink to Him.

*******************************************************************

We called it [enter church program of your choice], but He would have called it lunch. We sometimes called it [program], but He calls it dinner. We may call it Soul-winning, but He says it is fried chicken and green beans and sliced tomatoes and a tall glass of iced tea. Jesus came to do the work of the Father and He liked it as well as He did eating (Bob Benson, In Quest of the Shared Life).

We often think of ministry as work. Probably because we make it that way. As I read this I thought of where a lot of Jesus’ ministry took place: actually eating. Eating in someone’s house: Levi, Simon, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Jesus taught about God and God’s love much more often eating at someone’s house than at the synagogue. He didn’t teach seminars on How to Be the Best Jew in a World Going to Hell; he ate at people’s houses and told them about God, God’s love, and what God wanted them to do: love each other.

What if more of our ministry was like this? A natural part of our life than something else we tack onto our endless to-do list. Now doing God’s work is work. Anyone in ministry knows this. But does it have to be so much work? Do we really have to meet at the church for everything? What if we encouraged our people to invite their neighbors who don’t know God over for dinner? What if we encouraged our people to have friends with people who didn’t know God to begin with? Evangelicalism tends to create its own little culture, a bubble, where everyone we know goes to church with us or is another evangelical. “Evangelism” might now be such hard work or such a scary thing if we would build relationships with people who don’t know God, and invite them over to eat. Or say yes when they invite us over for a barbeque.

May be if we took this attitude more of our ministry would be like Jesus’ ministry: “fried chicken and green beans and sliced tomatoes and a tall glass of iced tea.”

Requested Recipe: Blueberry-Lemon Bread

*laughing* Okay, okay, here’s the recipe, and it is very good!

3 cups flour
1 cup sugar
4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons chilled butter, cut into thin slices
1 1/2 cups blueberries
Grated rind from one lemon
1 cup milk
2 eggs beaten

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Coat a loaf pan with vegetable spray. Combine dry ingredients then work the butter in with a pastry blender or with a fork until it looks like coarse crumbs. Mix in blueberries and lemon rind. Stir in the milk and eggs until well blended. Pour into pan and bake for 55 minutes.

I got this recipe from Real Simple four or five years ago. It’s a favorite. Make it while you can get fresh blueberries! Frozen is not the same.

RevGals Friday Five: Hasty Edition

Reverendmother says: “Whoops! I have been in a family-induced haze these few days, with the July 4 holiday and taking time off while relatives are visiting. So I literally lost track of what day it was!

So rather than make you guys wait even one minute longer for the five, I’ll dig up an oldie:”

Today, what are you:

1. Wearing

Denim capris and a Chicago Cubs t-shirt.

2. Reading

Ancient-Future Faith by Robert Webber

The Artist Way by Julia Cameron

3. Eating

Breakfast: Kashi Cinnamon Harvest Cereal with a banana and soy milk

Snack: Blueberry Lemon Bread

Lunch: Tuna sandwich with roasted red pepper and tomato

4. Doing

The Friday Five 🙂

I’ve been shopping, caught up on email, and after this I will be moving on to writing.

5. Pondering

Where did this week go? May be it was that holiday smack in the middle that made it seem go quicker than normal.