My Response to Perry's "Strong" Commercial

I was trying to think of an appropriate response to Rick Perry's most recent commercial, and consequently wrote this facebook status a couple hours ago.  It's getting a lot of traction over there, so I thought I might as well share it with the rest of the world on here:

I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a Christian, but you don't need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there's something wrong with the body of Christ when the good news of God's overwhelming love and desire to be in relationship with us is leveraged, not to liberate and reconcile the world, but to stir up fear and resentment in pursuit of political gain.

Happy Holidays everyone!  Some day when I'm not swamped with homework I will get back to blogging. :)

Because Stormtroopers Are People Too

I also don't want to lose track of this awesome project.  A brilliant photographer doing family style portraits of the Dark Side, one photo a day for every day of the year (click here to go to her flickr account and scroll through the others).

Breaking Open the Conversation

Still behind in pretty much everything (school, life, blogging) but sticking this here for a wider audience.  I posted a link to this HuffPo article about the Kardashian debacle on my facebook page, and an old high school friend of mine commented, "Why rejoice in anyone's failed marriage?"

It was a fair question, and here is what I wrote in response (his name has been changed to protect the innocent):

John, I don't rejoice in anyone's failed marriage. I do lament what I see as a grave injustice, that someone who has such obvious disrespect for marriage is nevertheless legally allowed to keep making a mockery of marriage (and to make a crapload of money ON her mockery of it), while my LGBT brothers and sisters are (in most places) legally denied the ability to marry, and so must fight and scrape and go to great personal expense to pull together a very fragile system of support and protection and acknowledgment of their relationship. At its best this is still a fraction of the kind of support and protection and acknowledgment that Ms. Kardashian is granted by default. . .sacred relationship, support, protection, and acknowledgment which she has - twice now - casually thrown away.

I do not rejoice in the failure of her marriages. But I will rejoice if her continued mockery of marriage breaks open the conversation about what is just, and what respect for marriage truly looks like, and I will rejoice if breaking open that conversation ultimately helps secure justice, support, and protection for those who DO hold marriage sacred but are categorically denied participation in that gift.

Peace to you, brother. And thanks for pushing back with your question.

Subway Star Wars

I'm way behind here, I've got several posts I want to write, but this was too awesome, it had to be put up immediately.

Oh, how I love New York.  And Improv troupes.

Something New Every Day

Things I did not know before tonight:

1. Copland interjected "Fanfare for the Common Man"(which he had written 2-3 years prior) into the last movement of his 3rd Symphony.

2. Jorja Fleezanis left the Minnesota Orchestra. 2 years ago (guess I'm a little behind the times).  For as long as I can remember going to orchestra concerts, she had been the concertmaster - I was actually sad when she didn't come out to tune the orchestra tonight.  :(

Why It's Good I Have a Strong Inner Monologue

Our class led chapel today. Dr. Keifert was the preacher and I was the presider.

The thing about liturgy is: it takes a lot of focus and mental energy to lead well, you are always thinking two or three steps ahead of the assembly while simultaneously being present in the moment and making it all look smooth and effortless.

The other thing about liturgy is: it is a lot easier to sustain the kind of focus required when one is in a regular rhythm of leading.

And the thing about liturgy in this particular context: leading it at Luther is a bit nerve-wracking. In theory it shouldn't be - as a place full of pastors-in-training it should be a place where people are free to flounder and fail on their way to refining these skills. But in reality it is a place full of pressure to perform at the peak of one's game.

Part of that pressure comes from my own inner perfectionist wanting to "get the A" from my peers and professors, especially since I'm no longer a pastor-in-training but have been a real live pastor for a number of years now. But part of the pressure is definitely embedded in the system - if there were 50 people in the congregation here today, I can guarantee there were probably 55 opinions on how to properly preside over communion. ;)

Anyway, I was presiding today. And though I got back into a regular rhythm of presiding this summer when I was covering for Jen, I hadn't led worship since the end of July. I was a bit rusty going in this morning, which only served to amplify the anxiety of leading in this context.

I was also tired, having spent most of yesterday traveling back from the East Coast, and had a sinus headache due to the change in weather.

And the service was running long. As I walked back up to the chancel at the end of the peace, Dr. Keifert whispered to me "We need to move it along."

So as I approached the altar to begin the communion liturgy, I was trying to pick up the pace while remaining articulate in an echoey room and also not appear to be racing through the liturgy. I was also trying to remember to say "new testament" instead of "new covenant" in the words of institution, as that would tie directly to what Dr. K said in his sermon.

I made it through all that just fine.

But at the end of it, I completely forgot to lead us into the Lord's Prayer.

The congregation knew it, they didn't sit down the first time I gestured for them to sit down.

I still hadn't realized my mistake so gestured again, that time they sat.

I realized my mistake after communion was over, when I finally flipped the page in the leader book and saw, not the post-communion blessing that I expected, but the Lord's Prayer staring back at me.

This is why it's good I have a strong inner monologue because inside my head I went "Oh SH*T!" Thankfully that didn't also come out my mouth and into the rockstar microphone wrapped around my ear.

I was completely embarrassed, I'm sure my ears flushed as red as my hair through the close of the service.

Despite the glaringly obvious flub, several friends and professors were kind enough to compliment my presence up front and gracious enough to chuckle about the mistake as a good reminder of our imperfect humanity.

I used to joke about this in the parish, but the kindness of these others affirmed it once again today: it seems a decent voice and a pretty pectoral cross will cover a plethora of liturgical sins. :)

How Many Graduate Degrees. . .

does it take to print a label?

Believe me when I tell you, you do not want to know.


Religion geeks we are.

Computer geeks we are not.



So very, very not.

:)

It's Always 20/20

The Best Musician You've Probably Never Heard Of

is Peter Mulvey.

I discovered him by accident when I was living in Pennsylvania. I was at a Borders and trying to use one of those music preview machines - I thought it was the kind where you scanned the barcode of a CD you were interested in and it would play what was on it. Turned out to be the kind where there are 5 or 6 featured CDs loaded into the machine and you pick from those what you want to listen to.

So I scanned the CD I was holding and the computer defaulted to the first CD in its memory, Peter's The Knuckleball Suite. And I was like, "This isn't what I scanned but this is really good!" So I bought it instead of what was in my hand.

I told Peter that story tonight at the merch table after his gig at Gingko Coffeehouse, and he gave me a high five. :)

In all seriousness, though - I have yet to hear this man sing a song (original or cover) that I didn't like. His lyrics are smart and funny and profound, and he is one of the most skilled and most versatile guitar players I've ever heard or seen. And his stage banter is hilarious.

Plus, the dude's on a bicycle tour. He rode 70 miles today, then performed an amazing show tonight. Most impressive.

He's touring with Brianna Lane, another excellent musician, and she's local! If you're in the Twin Cities, you've got one day left to see them, at Calhoun Cycle tomorrow afternoon, or The Aster Cafe in Northeast tomorrow night.

Here's a couple youtube vids to demonstrate your need to go!

Shirt


Simon Stimson

10 Years Ago, Part Two

. . .looking back, the me that woke up the morning of September 11 seems so charmingly naieve - I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined the horrendous crash and burn that was about to happen, not only in New York, but in my own life.

I was up early. I had an 8 am class, which I typically tried to avoid, but it couldn't be helped that semester.

Pauline Epistles with Dr. Craig Koester.

That's where I was when it happened.

Blissfully oblivious.

I don't remember which epistle Koester was lecturing on that day.

I do remember the second class was over, Dr. Diane Jacobson calmly walked in to the room and somberly told us "There has been a terrorist attack on the United States, airplanes have been hijacked and flown into the World Trade Towers and the Pentagon. It is not certain whether there are other planes or what their targets may be. We are gathering in the chapel."


WHAT?


I went to chapel. I don't remember exactly what we said and did. . .a lot of praying, and speaking and singing lament psalms, I think.

My memories of the day are like that - certain things are crystal clear, while others are vague and hazy.

I do remember - clearly - it felt like time slowed down and the day would never end.

I was supposed to go to God, Evil, and Suffering next.

Ha.

But my neighbor Dana was expecting her cousin Sebastian to land later that day, coming to visit from Germany. But everything had been shut down, and who's to say where he was? And Dana didn't speak German. I went and explained the situation to Drs. Sponheim and Fretheim, and they said, by all means, go help your friend find her cousin.

His plane was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean when the pilot abruptly announced the United States had closed its borders and its airspace, they were turning around for Europe immediately.

I can't imagine what it must have been like for him to hear that, sitting on that plane, halfway through a long journey he'd been planning and looking forward to for months. I would have asked myself, "What do you mean, they closed the borders? WTH is happening on the ground?"

But at least he was safe, and made it back to his family alright.

From there I must have eaten something for lunch, though I doubt I had an appetite. And I must have finished out the very full day of class, with Lutheran Confessions, and Preaching. . .but honestly those parts of the day are also fuzzy.

I was working for Pilgrim Lutheran at the time, and they pulled together a prayer vigil that evening. I do remember going to that.

And I distinctly remember yelling at God the entire drive to the church: "Where were you? Where ARE you? Do you not care that we are perishing? Do you not understand what this means. . .with THIS President in particular at the helm?. . ."

I distinctly remember praying for our enemies at the service, because I could not fathom what kind of hell a person must live in, day in and day out, that would lead them to see such a suicide mission as their best and only way forward.

I distinctly remember all the hope and joy of the summer being sucked completely out of me in a matter of moments, as if a Dementor had followed Dr. Jacobson into the room, then grabbed hold and followed me out of it.

For me, September 11 was the beginning of a year of absolute hell, and an epically dark night of the soul. That journey was long, and is a story for another day.


Today in her sermon, Jen asked us, 10 years later, where do we find hope?

Which was a hard question because over the past few months, the devolving state of various situations in the world, which we never seem to gain traction on, have left me feeling increasingly hopeless and fearing we are, collectively, hell-bent on getting to a Fahrenheit 451/Clockwork Orange kind of world as fast as we possibly can.

Perhaps my old Dementor has been lingering a little too close lately, but I really had to think about this question.

I decided - I find hope in the people who choose life, who live life abundantly, who relentlessly rebuild this world even as others actively tear it down.

And I find hope in the God who continues to create beauty and truth and goodness, even out of the chaos and the rubble.

I give thanks to God for both Jen and Jeni, two of the saints in my life who give me hope, and for the brilliant sermons they each preached this morning.

And I leave you with this prayer, which we sang in worship today (though I thank another hopeful saint, Choral Girl, for this particular link):

10 Years Ago, Part One

10 years ago I spent the summer in Dresden. The Fund for Theological Education was kind enough to give me a large scholarship with very few strings attached. "Do something that will enhance your ministry and then tell us about it" they said.

So I went abroad, took classes at the Goethe Institut during the week, and bummed around Lutherland on the weekends. Though I had been abroad before, it was my first time truly living abroad for an extended period of time.

It was an awesome experience. I liked Germany before, but that summer I fell in love with it. I loved how easy it was to go pretty much anywhere on public transit; I loved how ecologically conscious they were; I loved how walking, cycling, or taking the tram was the default mode of operation; I loved broetchen for breakfast everyday; I loved the little hole-in-the-wall doner stand down the street from the school; I loved the tasty senf at the beer garden where we'd have our weekly Stammtisch; I loved the gelato cafe on the Neustadt side of the Augustbruecke; I loved the Semper Oper and the Zwinger gallery; I loved the noise car tires made as they rolled over cobblestone streets; I loved that church bells rang to announce the noon hour; and though it took a period of adjustment I came to love that you were expected to bring your own bags to the grocery store, and that most stores would be closed by 6 pm every night and always on Sundays; I loved that people would spend Sunday afternoons with friends and family, relaxing at home or out hiking or touring or something.

I loved my class at the Goethe Institut too - our teacher, Ute, was fantastic, and I loved the diversity in the room, with students from France, Romania, Libya, China, Mexico, Canada, and the U.S. - I feel like there were even more countries represented (and certainly among the whole institut there were more) but these are the only ones I can remember right now. In any case, it felt like we were this mini-UN, working together to learn and understand this language and culture that was not our own, sharing things about our own cultures in the process.

When class ended I joined up with some German and Slovak friends (including Adri) to go hiking in the High Tatras mountains, an incredible way to cap an incredible summer.

It was a summer that filled me with such hope for the world - that if our little microcosms of national diversity could learn from and learn with each other, and work together so effectively to reach common goals, then certainly we as a richly diverse global body of humanity could get there too.

I had a hard time with cultural readjustment upon my return. I was cranky and frustrated with Minnesota for all the ways it failed to be Germany. I was (as I always am) sad for saying goodbye to Adri and not knowing the next time we'd get to see each other. And I was wrestling with some deep vocational issues - I had been a reluctant seminarian to begin with, and certain things about the summer had me seriously questioning whether I should really be a pastor.

I went to bed the night of September 10 thinking these were the greatest of my problems. Despite my frustrations, I was still so enthralled by the winds of that summer - the view they had allowed me, the incredible ride they had provided me - that I was completely oblivious to how close they had carried me to the sun. . .

Fruitful Prejudices

Let's face it, I'm a good card-carrying progressive, when it comes to most "ists" in my life, I'm trying to actively deconstruct them. I strive to become ever more mindful of the ways that I am racist and classist and elitist, etc, etc, etc, so that I can work on NOT being those things so much as I currently am, so that we can all live in a little bit better world.

However, there are two "ists" in my life of which I am fully aware, completely unashamed, and have no intention of changing, ever.

I am unabashedly statist and unabashedly collegist.

There are a lot of lovely places, filled with a lot of lovely people, all throughout the rest of the world - I have thoroughly enjoyed both visiting and even living in these spectacular places.

But there is no state greater than Minnesota.

Similarly, there are a lot of fine institutions of higher learning in the world - I have a lot of friends who are exemplary graduates of these upstanding schools.

But there is no college greater than St. Olaf.

I mean, where else on this planet would they creatively set the academic expectations to The Sound of Music and enlist professors from multiple disciplines to sing it to you?

Fram, fram, baby.

PA Pictures and Songs

Van Wagner is my favorite Central Susquehanna Valley musician. He's one of the best guitar players I've ever heard, he's a mensch who has both mined coal and logged timber and is now a public educator, and he's steeped in the folk and singer-songwriter traditions, with a beautiful way of telling a story in a song.

He's written a lot of great songs, but I think my favorite is probably "If Time Could Stand Alone" (on the album with the same title), because of the way he sings about living your whole life as a prayer (you can buy it on iTunes).

He's been awfully busy lately, sandbagging, and taking pictures, and writing and recording songs about the flood:





. . .Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.

Prayers for Central PA

Hurricane Agnes devastated the Central Susquehanna Valley in 1972, for the people who lived through it, "The Flood" is seared in their memory, as vivid as though it happened yesterday.

Tropical Storm Lee is currently stalled out over the Mid-Atlantic, and the comparisons to Agnes keep building.

Flood sirens have gone off in Lewisburg - in the five years I lived there I never once heard a flood siren, though we had several bouts of flooding and closed streets, especially down by the river. Bucknell, which is a residential campus, not only cancelled class but pretty much shut down and is apparently evacuating 800-some students out of the dorms. Hwy 15 was closed for a while due to flooding, I'm hoping from the creek I used to live by, because if the river has gotten that wide they are in trouble.

Be safe out there, my central Pennsylvania and western New York friends. Know that you are in a lot of thoughts and hearts and prayers!

She's Ready For Her Closeup Mr. DeMille

The bambino LOVES getting her photo taken. It is virtually impossible to get a candid image of her because she hears the camera turn on or focus, and she turns her head and smiles. She's done that to me even when we were in a coffee shop and she was busy concentrating on walking up a few stairs and I was on the other side of the room, still she heard my camera and looked up and smiled.

Of course, between Grammie and Grampie, Nana and Pa, Aunties Trina and EJ, and Auntie C, she kind of has her own personal cadre of paparazzi, we may have inadvertently encouraged the development of this camera-loving behavior. :)

And ironically, the one time she really did not want her picture taken was when they took a family portrait for the church directory. Breen and Patrick look absolutely lovely but the bambino is a complete grumpy gus in that photo, nothing they tried could get her to smile for it.

In any case, Patrick did a big and epic wedding this past weekend (groom is a fire chief, the extensive wedding party rode to the reception in a caravan of firetrucks), and as it was a family their whole family knew well, Breen and bambino went to the wedding and festivities too.

Apparently, the bambino became quite upset that she was not included in the official wedding photos - after all, everybody she knows loves taking her picture, and she loves having her picture taken, so clearly she should be in all these photos, and these silly people weren't letting her be in any of them! She got so upset, Breen finally had to take her out of the church and drive her around in the car until she fell asleep!

I'm cracking up imagining her inner monologue at that point: "Must stay awake. . .must be in pictures. . .but getting so. . .sleepy. . .car. . .you are. . .evil. . . .can't. . .fight. . . .the nap. . . . .any--zzzzzz"


Not to worry, bambino. This member of your entourage will see you soon enough, and I will more than make up for the lack of picture taking this past weekend. I'm sure I'll even let you run around with my camera again, because we both know you've had me wrapped around your little pinky since the day you were born. :)

Note To Self

Dear Catrina,

We know it's the end of the summer.

We know you like to delude yourself into thinking we're more used to the sun by now and don't need so much protection.

This is most erroneous logic.

We also know you're part Italian.

But we didn't get those particular genes.

So please repeat after us: SPF 50 or higher, on every part of us that's exposed, every time you're going to be outside for more than 15 minutes, especially in the middle of the day.

Capisce?

Now, go find the aloe.

Love,
Your Skin

On a Stiiick, Day Four

I was 90% sure I was going to use that extra ticket today, and then last night I found out Jeni and Colin were in town and were going to the Fair today, so that sealed the deal.

We began with a malt



and the Princess Kay butter sculptures in the Dairy Building (surprisingly - something I hadn't done in my previous three trips).



From there we were all over the place, but it was fun to introduce them to parts of the Fair they had never explored, like the Wildlife Walk in the DNR building





and the newspaper museum in Heritage Square (no pics of that, sorry).

We took the Sky Ride, and Colin told us a story about when he was 7 and had gone to the Fair with his mom and his two younger brothers. They got on the Sky Ride but it got stuck and they ended up suspended in the air in this small little gondola for 3 hours!!! He was like, "I think they must have added these mesh screens later, because I distinctly remember dropping pennies and suckers and stuff out the window."

We also discovered while waiting in line for the Sky Ride that Colin grew up down the street from my great-grandma, once again proving it's a small, small Lutheran world. That kind of stuff just fascinates me - how many times might he and I have crossed paths as kids - and then as young adults we even went to the same college and seminary, but he was just enough younger than me that we had no overlap either place - so we didn't really know each other or become friends until we were somewhat older young adults. Crazy.

But I digress. . .it was an awesome last day at my happy place, made even happier by the chance to catch up with these good friends. I think we're all thinking a Ciccone-Grangaard Fair Day needs to become a tradition. :)

This closing picture is for Eileen, who - tragically - did not make it to MN for the Fair this year. She put in a request that someone eat some mini-donuts for her. We were more than happy to oblige.



So long, my happy place, and thanks for another great year! I'll see you again next August!

We Carry Each Other

At 100 years young, Katherine is the oldest member of our congregation. Despite dealing with some health issues of her own the past week, she managed to knit a newborn cap for our newest and youngest member, the wee 11 day old Naomi, who is feistily hanging on in the NICU, having arrived 11 weeks early.

This morning's offering included the little knit cap, sealed in a baggie so it didn't pick up a bunch of contagion that could compromise little Naomi's still developing immune system. When it was time for the offering prayer, Jen came and stood in the midst of us and we all placed a hand on either the cap or our neighbor's shoulder, and we blessed the cap, giving thanks for both Katherine and Naomi, and praying for health and wholeness for the both of them. . .it was a powerful moment.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love my church?

On a Stiiick, Day Three

Today was my third day at the Happiest Place on Earth - this time again with Maminka, family friend Sharon, my Aunt Terri, my cousin Liz, her boyfriend Trav, and their little guy Jayden.

We did crepes for breakfast this morning - I opted for banana and nutella. . .hmmm, nutella.



As soon as we finished Jayden wanted to go on the Giant Slide - good man! I've been waiting all week for someone to go on that with me.

We finally got to the lower end of grounds - the DNR building (this was also a hoot with Jayden, especially seeing how many animals we could spot and identify in the wildlife wing), the Miracle of Birth center and the regular barns, and Heritage Square.



Speaking of barns, I am always way more amused by this than I should be, but why are the two options for keeping sheep's wool clean between making them members of the klan



or enrolling them in a jazzercise class?



We went back over a lot of other territory we covered on Tuesday as well, but I never catch everything in those buildings the first time through, so that was good. Indiana Jayden bought a cool lasso to go with his fedora (the hat was at home)



We tried two new (to us) Fair foods today: deep fried pickles [NOT my idea; conclusion: meh, no desire to ever eat it again], and the deep fried apple pie with cinnamon ice cream [looks and tastes better than it sounds - basically like an apple pie turnover, this one WAS my idea; conclusion: muy yum (you know it's got to be good if it's palindromically yummy!), now on the list of things that must be had at the fair every year]. Plus, their booth has awesome signage:





Alas, all too soon it was once again time to leave. I do have a spare ticket in my hot little hands, but I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to use it before it all disappears for another year.



Incidentally, this pouty face is remarkably similar to the one the bambino gives me on the very rare occasions that I don't let her play with my camera:

On a Stiiick, Day Two

Second Day at the Fair was Thursday afternoon into evening with Dad. Brenda was supposed to join us but she had a sore ankle and didn't think she could handle all that walking. So it was just pop and I.

We started by taking a picture with all my boyfriends. :)


Then we did a lot of walking around outside and people watching while Dad smoked a cigar and checked out the man-toys on Machinery Hill.

We did take the Sky Ride and got the cow car!


Unbelievably, this was Dad's first ever trip on this thing. He doesn't like heights, and even though we were enclosed it was still a little too high for his comfort, so it was probably also his last trip on the sky ride. :)





We ended with the Midway, which looked especially pretty during the "magic hour."








Also, in some live Twins blogging: Twins are full of illness and injury again and playing a very thin bench, Duensing gives up a grand slam in the bottom of the first, goes out with a strained oblique in the second, despite all of this Twins miraculously manage to tie things up, 6-6, by the top of the fourth, and then Gardy puts Dumatrait in? Followed by Mijares?

Is their death wish as strong and unavoidable as a tractor beam on the Death Star? Are they writing the book for a new musical, "How to Utterly Fail at Baseball While Really Really Trying"? Will this abysmal season ever end?

Thank God for Modern Medicine

Some friends from church have had quite the ride this past week, as their firstborn shocked everyone by arriving 11 weeks early.

You can follow the journey of this wee Menk and her parents here. If you are a praying type, I'm sure they'd appreciate your spiritual support.

All I can say is - thanks be to God for the miracles of modern medicine and the excellent staff at both Abbott and Children's Hospitals! And welcome to the world, little Naomi Marie - we are so glad you are here!

On a Stiiiick, Day One

We walked in through the main gate this morning, I took in a deep breath, smiled, and breathed out "Hello my happy place, it's good to see you again." Maminka just laughed and shook her head.

Today was our old St. Mark group day - PL and Dave, Don and Anita, Maminka and myself.

We began with the breakfast of champions: a pronto pup. I'm actually kind of embarrassed about that, but I overslept and was running a little late, and consequently hadn't eaten anything before I left to meet up with Mom, Don, and Anita at the park and ride. So I was really really hungry by the time we got to the Fair, and Don was hungry too, and he loves pronto pups, and. . .well. . .I too ate a deep fried batter-dipped hot dog for breakfast, I admit it.

Then we walked to the other end of the fairgrounds and ate the true breakfast of champions, the grilled porkchop on a stick:



Seriously, we discovered this completely by accident a few years ago, but if you start your Fair day with all that protein, you don't hit the wall in the middle of the afternoon or suddenly sugar crash in the early evening. I highly recommend it.

Then we made our way over to the horticulture building to meet up with Linda and Dave. Of course, as long as we were there, we had to get a dish of honey sunflower ice cream.



We covered quite a bit of ground today but there is still a lot left to do and see - never made it anywhere close to the DNR building, the Midway, the barns, or Heritage Square. Good thing I'm going back a couple more times!

A couple highlights from what we did see today:

The coolest thing I saw in the Creative Arts building was this huge tinker toy display that looked like the Midway



Look at the detail, I love these Tilt-a-Whirl cars!



The best thing I saw in the Art Show was this painting



It's a still life of a bowl of potatoes on top of a newspaper opinion page, the headline of which is about Minnesota's poor, and the picture in the paper



is Van Gogh's "The Potato Eaters." I believe the title of this painting in the show was "Vincent" - I found it very clever - poignant and political at the same time.


Finally, this picture is for Adri



because she is currently sitting in Dresden impaling homemade pickles so she can pretend she is eating them here with us instead. You should know we ate not merely one but TWO of these ginormous pickles in your honor today, and we missed you and Burki something fierce.

Take Me Out With the Crowd

Nana and Pa went to visit the bambino a couple weeks ago. Auntie C was the designated airport shuttler and cat caretaker while they were away. As a thank you, they took me to the ballpark yesterday. My not-so-secret crush was on the bench



as was Cuddy, but Justin and Danny were both playing, so that made me happy.





We had amazing seats



not that there's a bad seat in the house, really, but these seats were particularly sweet. :)

We lost, but what else is new? It was at least an interesting game and - funnily enough - right at the top of the 5th Nana said "Ok fellas, hit a home run now, let's get something going here." And then Hughes and Repko hit back-to-back homers to start the inning!

In a pleasant surprise, my friend Erik sang the national anthem for us



(dude, I thought you were moving out of the state. . .does this mean I'm going to see you at InVocation rehearsal this week?)


And, for the second time this season my old debate coach and I were at the same game and didn't know it until we were both posting about it on facebook after the fact. One of these days, Sunne, we'll figure these things out ahead of time so we can catch up in person at the game!

The Play So Nice I Saw it Twice

Kristin is about to move to Princeton to start a PhD in Old Testament, so she's making the rounds of her Twin Cities goodbyes this week. We were originally planning to just hang out today around/after lunchtime but then she heard the Guthrie was taping the H.M.S. Pinafore for public television this afternoon and was looking for for an audience to fill the house. So, we did that instead.

And I have to say, I wish to retract my previous criticism of the new orchestration - it totally didn't bother me today. But I could also clearly hear all the words to all the songs today. So either something was off with the balance in the sound system when I went to see this back in June, or I was previously sitting in a dead spot for the speakers (in June I was sitting in the center of the balcony; today we were five rows up from the bottom of the slope).

I also want to reiterate - the whole company and production is fantastic, but Robert O. Berdahl and Christina Baldwin are both especially worthy of a shout out, he for his facial gymnastics (which was a treat to see up close this time), she for her incredible vocal range, both of them for their comedic timing.

It closes on August 28, which means you've got less than a week left to see it, folks. Get thee to the Thrust Stage.

Arguments I Don't Hear Much Part 2

The gospel lesson this morning reminded me that I had not yet written this post. To refresh your brains, part 1 was the political argument. This part is the biblical/religious argument.

So, one of the major critiques often launched against "liberal" positions on homosexuality within the church is that those who hold such opinions are antinomian (aka anti-law). Because Leviticus and Romans and yadda yadda yadda all clearly state this is wrong, so if you want to say it's not wrong you clearly just want to torch the Bible and dance on its grave. Or (less dramatically, and perhaps more nerve-wracking) you're setting up your own arbitrary criteria for what we follow and what we don't, and (this is the real concern) where will it stop? If you're wiling to "pitch" some parts of the Bible, whats to stop you from pitching the whole thing?

This is a very "brick wall" mentality regarding the Bible - every "brick" (verse) has equal size, weight, and value, and is rock solid, not flexible at all - and the fear is if you punch out enough bricks you compromise the integrity and stability of the whole structure.

A lot of people have this understanding of the Bible. But it's not the only way to think about it. A contrasting image is that of a trampoline, and thinking of the verses as the springs that hold it together. You can take a few springs out of a trampoline and it will still function, but more importantly, springs have give, they are flexible.

(we interrupt this post to give props to Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis, because that's who I'm stealing these images from - if you haven't read this book yet, you should)

Now before anybody gets all "You're pulling springs out of the trampoline? That's antinomian!" on me, please let me clarify that I'm NOT pulling springs out of the trampoline, and I'm not advocating that anybody else should either. I AM advocating that we should all be thinking of Bible verses as more like springs and less like bricks.

And I advocate that in part because that's kind of what we'd been doing for centuries. The law has never been so black and white, so cut and dried, as some folks like to make it out to be. You'd think something like "Thou shalt not steal" would be, but there are volumes of rabbinic debates and commentary as to when this law is bound and when this law is loosed.

Let me explain: let's say you are walking along and you spot a $100 bill on the ground. If you pick it up, is that stealing? It depends, say the rabbis. If you just pick it up and put it in your pocket without making any effort to look around and seek out who may have dropped it, then the law is bound, and yes, you are stealing from your neighbor. But if you make every good faith effort to return the money to its rightful owner and cannot find them no matter how hard you try, then the law is loosed, you may keep the money and you are not breaking the commandment.

This is a broad generalization of the kinds of reflection and rabbinic debate that would happen all the time. In reality it would go much deeper and in greater detail, but hopefully with this small example you get the picture.

Jesus himself was steeped in this tradition. In fact, we see him engaging in it in Matthew 12 when the Pharisees come after him and the disciples for plucking grain (aka doing work) on the Sabbath, a clear violation of their cut and dried understanding of the third commandment, to remember the Sabbath and keep it holy. Jesus counters with arguments as to why the law in this case should be loosed, and like a good case lawyer, he even cites historical precedent (King David, no less).

(we interrupt this post once again to give props to Mark Allan Powell's How Lutherans Interpret the Bible, because that's who I'm stealing these examples from - if you haven't yet watched this DVD series, you should)

Ok, so what does all this have to do with arguments you don't hear much and the gospel from this morning?

Namely this: in this morning's gospel, Jesus gives the church the power to bind and to loose. My Catholic brothers and sisters interpret this passage as giving only Peter and Peter's successors (aka the Popes) this authority, but we Protestants interpret it more broadly as the body of Christ, the church, having this power.

And we've used it. Repeatedly. I love ham and pork and bacon, others love shrimp and lobster, and we all eat these things freely because collectively the body of Christ decided to loose the Levitical kosher laws. The laws (which are pretty clear cut) are still sitting there in the Bible, no one has thrown those springs out, no one is "against" them, but we have decided they've got give and they are no longer binding upon the community. Similarly, I am a woman who is ordained and regularly speaks in worship, because the part of the body of Christ that is the ELCA collectively decided to loose the "law" in the Pauline letters that forbids women from speaking in church (though I am cognizant that several other members of the body have declared this law is still bound).

To me, it makes logical sense to extend this power to bind and to loose the law to the passages forbidding homosexuality. And to me, that is essentially what certain members of the body (the ELCA among them) have done, declared collectively (if rather contentiously) that these laws are indeed loosed. They are still sitting there, right next to the kosher laws in some instances, we have not thrown them out, but we have decided they are no longer binding.

I don't think that's being antinomian. I also don't think it's such a bad argument. My question is: why do I feel like I'm the only one I ever hear making it? In all the debates I heard leading up to the Churchwide Assembly in 2009, in all the debates I heard on the floor of the 2009 CWA (I volunteered as a page), in all the continued fighting and controversy in the wake of those decisions (in which many who have been leaving have gifted us with parting jabs about abandoning the Bible), I don't recall hearing anybody make this case. And I can't help but wonder why.

Reclaiming the Title

I think the Twin Cities are gunning to reclaim the title of the most bike-friendly city in the country.

Either that, or a whole new wave of tobacco-lawsuit money just came in.

But has anyone else noticed a bunch of new green Bike Share stations being installed, all over the Cities?

It's a good thing, really, considering it's becoming virtually impossible to get anywhere by car these days.

[seriously, MNDOT, whose brilliant idea was it to work on every major artery between St. Paul and Minneapolis in the same summer, hmmm?]

Then again, maybe that's part of their master plan. . .make driving such a frustrating experience that everyone readily hops on a bicycle instead.

The Danger of a Single Story

This is fantastic. Hat tip to Mary for the link.

Let the Panic Resume

I have been maintaining what many would call a ridiculous pace for an entire year: full-time PhD student, working 3 part time jobs, helping out with family stuff (particularly getting grandma to doctor appointments) as I'm able, providing pulpit supply here and there on occasion, helping out at church as I'm able. . .well, you're getting the picture.

This summer the stuff I was doing shifted a bit but the pace remained unrelenting: June was SPSS Hell, half of June and all of July was covering for Jen as she took a six week sabbatical at Holden, two of the four weeks of July were awesomesauce fun but still very busy hosting company from PA, all while still working for LPI and the library.

Then, finally, August. Glorious, glorious August, with very little on my calendar, only LPI and the library to worry about for work, and my Happy Place promising to appear, as it always does, at the end of the month.

I have been relishing August. Relishing the cooler, less humid weather. Relishing the much needed mental break. Relishing the difference between this August and last August, ever mindful and grateful for what I am NOT doing this month - unpacking all my crap and cramming for entrance exams.

Then today I met with Mary to plan the independent study we'll be doing together this fall. We are going to be reading and discussing some really cool stuff on narrative, communal faith formation, and religious education - I am actually quite stoked about it. But I was also a little anxious as I left her office, just remembering how frantic last fall was, and realizing it's all going to start up again in a short couple of weeks.

Then I went to grab some lunch in the cafeteria and Dr. Luedke joined me at the table. He was asking about what I'd filled my summer with once I finished crunching numbers for him, and was wondering about what courses I'm taking this coming fall, pushing me to think about how I could use them to help refine my thesis question and my field research design. I told him about the Sunday school curriculum I'm working on and how I've been thinking that might be a good beta test of a potential action research project. He agreed and suggested I throw together a baseline survey if for nothing else than the practice of writing the survey and testing whether what I think I'm doing is what I'm actually doing. Truly, it was a really good and helpful conversation, but I left lunch with my anxiety turned up just a little higher thinking about incorporating everything we talked about into the coming months.

Then I went to Babylon to visit the bookstore in its current exile. They really culled their collection to help with the move and lack of storage during the exile, so I figured they would have to order half the books Mary and I had just decided upon (my assumption was correct). And as long as I was there I asked "Hey, has Keifert given you a booklist for Theological Hermeneutics yet?" (this would be the other class I'm taking this fall) And they were all like "Yup, here it is."

I seriously almost had a panic attack right there in the middle of the bookstore. It's all really good stuff, authors I am excited to read and discuss, but holy crap is it a long list full of heady thinkers. I went and grabbed all that were in stock and the clerk checking me out was like, "Ooh, you might want to start reading some of these now." Thanks dude, I know.

I keep trying to take deep breaths and remind myself it's going to be better this fall. I won't have the busywork that I was dealing with for one of the classes last year, and I'll only be working two jobs, not three. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths.


. . .I think I'm gonna go start reading now, bye.

A-Fringing We Will Go

Today went to see Disney Dethroned, a most excellent one-man show (well, two-men if you count the musician on stage with him). Clever, biting, hilarious, tightly written and performed (if you click through the link and scroll down the page you can watch a small clip of it). The format reminded me of the Creative Expression category in high school speech - like if you gave somebody who was excellent at that an hour to fill, instead of 8 minutes, this would be the kind of thing they would come up with.

This was supposed to be the final performance, but it was the best-selling show at the Mixed Blood venue, so it earned the encore spot tomorrow night (Sunday 8:30 pm). Go see it while you still can!

We went out for ice cream afterwards, and not only was there a parking spot right across the street from Sebastian Joe's* (that never happens) but I pulled off a perfect parallel park (also a rarity, which is why I am always so inordinately pleased with myself when that happens, to the point of needing to brag about it).


*I love how, once you've introduced somebody to the pure deliciousness that is Sebastian Joe's, the lamest, thinnest reasoning will easily persuade them to go back. It starts with "We had a great concert - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" Then (d)evolves to "That was an awesome play - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" And pretty soon it's all: "The sun is shining - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" "The Twins lost that one - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" "It's a Tuesday - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" You get the picture. :)

Be Still My Nerdy Heart

Behold, Hamluke, a mash-up of lit major geekery and Star Wars geekery from the brilliant mind of some genius named Brad. Not only is the play hilarious, well-directed, well-acted, and creatively costumed, it is accompanied by pieces from the original Star Wars score redone with period Shakespearean orchestration. Clearly, the Force is strong in this one. See it you should. Get thee to the Fringe Festival.

Another piece of awesomeness that has come into my life this week: The Muppets. Auf Deutsch.

Of course The Muppet Show would have been dubbed over, the Germans dub everything over. And people these days put anything and everything on youtube. Why didn't I think of this sooner? Behold the treasures waiting to be viewed:

Star Wars und Schweine im Weltall


Shakespeare und Tierklinik


Und am besten: Der Schwedische Koch!




The funny thing is, I can understand the Chef in German better than I can in "English!" The Germans actually made up more dialogue and articulated it enough to make it understandable! [though not being able to understand him in English is half the fun; that, and pistol-weilding lobsters liberating their muchachos!] Here is the turtle soup sketch in English so you can compare.

Vicar of Minneapolis, I love you for making me aware this was out there on the interwebs. Thank you!

Finally to round things out with some good old-fashioned church geekery - I'm working with a group of folks from my church and our two partners in the ministry center to write our own Sunday school curriculum for the coming year. It is so. much. fun. I hope the kids have fun with it too (and, you know, learn something to boot!).

ADDENDUM FOR MORE CHURCH GEEKERY:
I just put together that the dude who played "Darthius" was Mike Rylander, aka Jonah from recent years of Augsburg Fortress VBS stuff (I did not recognize him in his costume tonight).

Cookie Monster Gets Introspective

Perhaps my favorite line in this:

"They don’t call the vampire with math fetish monster, and me pretty sure he undead and drinks blood."

John Moulder Quartet

So the last time ECR and I went on a cultural adventure it turned out to involve computer jazz, which was. . .um. . .interesting.

We ended up leaving after the first song, which also happened to be the first set, which was an hour long (computers don't need to take breaths or breaks the same way real live humans do). We laughed most of the way to the car and, as the adventure had been her idea, she declared she "owed me one."

I can officially say that debt has been forgiven. Last night's cultural adventure completely redeemed the computer jazz experience.

ECR was not in town for this one, but on her recommendation I went to hear the John Moulder Quartet at the Artist's Quarter. It was excellent. This "quartet" is not a standing group, both the pianist and the drummer had done gigs with John before, but this was the first time all 4 of the musicians had ever played together. I would never have known that if they hadn't said it outright - they were tight.

And theological. Moulder is a "jazz priest" (dude, why was that track never made explicit when I was going through MDivland?!) - he is an ordained Catholic priest who also happens to be a professional jazz musician. Inspired by the religious music of the likes of Duke Ellington and Dave Brubeck, he's written his own religious jazz setting, called "Trinity." The quartet played parts of it last night, including some delta blues, which Moulder introduced with the comment, "I'm pretty sure the Israelites got the blues."

They also played a piece he wrote called "Being and Time" - he didn't make it explicit in what he said around it, but I couldn't help feeling it was a nod to Heidegger.

So, if you like good jazz and blues, or you like artists with deep theological and philosophical grounding to their work, check John Moulder out. He's a hep cat. :)

Actually, they were all hep cats, so check out Dan Musselman, Alexander Young, and Billy Peterson too.

Also - the Artist's Quarter is a sweet venue - how have I been ignorant of its existence until this weekend?!

Self-Imposed Exile

There are some stores that I should just know better than to go into - if I go into them, I'm not getting out of them without significant damage to my wallet.

The Electric Fetus is such a store.

I went in with three things on my list. Three things because if you buy at least 3 CDs there at once, you get a 10% discount on all of them. Which makes me feel not as bad about buying 3 CDs at once, because I'm saving money. . .erm. . .yeah, that's it, saving money by buying in bulk. . .

I was also hoping they could help me track down something else that I had heard and liked but am having trouble sourcing.

Turned out, they had only one of the three CDs I was looking for, and the guy I spoke with was useless in helping me track the other thing (I'm finding the upside of watching a Glee-esque German telenovela is that it's introducing me to some good new music; the downside is that the stuff I'm not familiar with is European and not so easy to get hold of here in the States).

But if you buy three CDs at Electric Fetus, you get a discount on all of them. And I had one lowly CD in hand.

So, I perused around a little, and found a lot more than 3 CDs I was interested in buying. And some of them were even on sale, at really good prices. And since they are CDs I'm ultimately going to buy anyway, I might as well get a good price on them, right?. . .

The moral of the story, kids, is that I've got a lot of great new music to listen to.

And I'm banishing myself from the Electric Fetus for at least the next six months.

Seriously - friends, public, if you see me in there before 2012 consider this your permission to drag me out of the store, by the ear if necessary.

The Changeup

Alright, I've received enough feedback about the new font being too hard to read, so I'm trying this instead. I really liked the "Covered By Your Grace" font and didn't want to lose it completely so I've basically switched the post title font and the post text font.

Your feedback is once again welcome.

And as long as I'm asking for feedback - is anybody else having trouble reading the banner? It should say

"The Mad Preacher Liberation Front
. . .practicing resurrection daily."

That's what I see on my screen whether I'm in edit mode or simple reading mode (aka not logged in), but I have at least one friend who is only seeing the "The" on the first line.

Oh No He Di'int!

Andy recently took our winter vs. summer debate to the blogosphere and managed to knock both winter and the Great Lakes as he did it.

As I sweat just sitting here in the 80 degrees Fahrenheit with 87% humidity that is still going on at midnight (which, sadly, does feel *slightly* better than the 84 degrees Fahrenheit with 90% humidity that was midnight around this time last week), I feel the need to defend winter's honor.

So let me tell you a bit about why winter is the far superior season:

+there are no bugs

+there are no ticks

+there is no outdoor mold or pollen

+dry cold winter air is crisp and refreshing and easy to breathe. humid hot summer air is suffocating

+water freezes over and snow covers the ground, making everything traversable with the right equipment

+you CAN still grow food in winter in these things called greenhouses, and when the things are done growing, mother nature provides you a free all-natural icebox so that the things you have grown don't spoil. In summer you've got to eat fast or do things that generate even more heat in order to preserve your food

+if you are cold you can always pile on another layer of clothes or blankets, put another log on the fire, or move around. conversely, in the summer you can be sitting absolutely still in front of a fan in your birthday suit, and still be uncomfortably hot with not much more you can do to make the situation better (outside of immersing yourself in cold water or searching out someplace with air conditioning)

+a worst-case scenario in winter is hypothermia, where you feel cold but then you feel warm and just fall asleep. a worst-case scenario in summer is heat exhaustion/dehydration, which involves a lot of headaches, cramping, and puking, among other things. I will take my chances with hypothermia over heat exhaustion any day of the week

+the sun still shines in the winter, so you can soak up plenty of vitamin D during all the good times and social events like going skiing, sledding, or ice skating with your friends

I could keep going, but I don't think that's necessary.
Clearly, I win this argument. :)

I will concede Andy three points. Summer is good for the long days, for swimming uppadalake, and (naturally) for baseball. These are the three things that make summer bearable to me. That, and knowing that the State Fair comes at the end of it. But that's really about it.

I will also concede that much of my defense of winter is particular to Upper Midwestern winter, not Mid-Atlantic winter, so he lacks the life experience to truly understand what I'm saying. Just like I'm pretty sure he doesn't understand the whole "the Great Lakes are like oceans" thing because his main experience of the Great Lakes is Lake Michigan as seen from downtown Chicago.

Having been to the oceans (Atlantic and Pacific, not to mention the Baltic Sea) and to the Great Lakes, I maintain the Great Lakes are like the ocean, only better because they are freshwater.

And having lived through several summers and winters in both the Mid-Atlantic and the Upper Midwest, I maintain that winter is the superior season, hands down, both places.

That's my side of this debate, and I'm sticking to it! :)

30 Days

. . .until the happiest place on earth once again magically appears just north of the Midway.

SO. STINKIN. EXCITED.

Oh State That Will Not Let Me Go

When I moved from MN to PA, the state of MN was entirely convinced that I had actually moved away. I got a PA driver's license, transferred the title to Hermes, registered to vote, got a local library card, started paying PA taxes on my PA paycheck, and I didn't have to do anything else to prove myself or reassure MN that I had, in fact, left.

The same cannot be said of my move from PA back to MN.

I did all the same things in the process of moving: got a MN driver's license, transferred the title to Hermes once again, registered to vote, got a local library card, started paying MN taxes on my MN paycheck. And in March, Union County, PA, mailed me the bill for the occupation tax (yes, this is a tax you pay just for breathing air and occupying space within the county - it costs $5 for the year, $4.90 if you pay the tax within the first month of receiving the bill). Note they didn't just forward the bill, it came back to them and they had to ADDRESS A NEW ENVELOPE TO MINNESOTA to send me a bill for occupying space in Pennsylvania (which I had not done since August). Having to mail this sucker to another state was not enough to convince them I had really moved - I had to send back a copy of my new driver's license and swear on my honor that I had really, truly moved out of the state (I am honestly surprised they didn't require a notary to verify the signature, or a blood test to certify it was me and not my evil twin who had moved).

I thought that was the end of it.

Then today in the mail I received another letter from Union County, this time from the board of elections, to the effect of "We see you have a Minnesota address. We're not sure if that's in Union County or not - can you please verify whether you still live here."

?!?!?!?!?!?!?! WTF ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Oh Pennsylvania, we had a great run, don't go making it all awkward now with these tax and voter registration shenanigans. I know it's hard, I miss you a lot too, but seriously, it's time to let me go.

Drunk on Books

I've always jokingly spoken of my book collecting as an addiction - turns out such joking is not so far from the truth.


(Here I am getting a fix at one of my favorite bookstores in the entire world: The Strand in New York City. I also highly recommend Powell's in Portland, Oregon, and Loome's in Stillwater, Minnesota).


Hat tip to Josh for the link.

Tragically Unhip

It's beginning to feel like everybody I know has spent the summer:

1. going to Holden Village

and/or

2. going to the U2 concert

I have done neither of these things. I'm starting to feel like I'm missing out. . .


And now for something completely different:

I was on call this past week and ended up fielding a LOT of unusual stuff. . .like, if I didn't know any better, I'd almost suspect Dan May had figured out how to get revenge for all the times he covered for me and I openly encouraged my folks to call him at midnight to request an emergency hamster baptism, ask him a deep dark meaning of life question, practice reciting the books of the Bible in order, etc.

Hmmm, I didn't think he had any power beyond Appalachia but I may have underestimated the extent of his reach. . .

Tips For Young Pastors

This would fall under the category of "things they don't really teach you at seminary." Though, in fairness, I'm not sure how they would really teach this at seminary.

But just so you know, there's the gospel you preach in the worship service, which you have been carefully tending to and thinking about and crafting since the moment you read the appointed texts for that Sunday and started formulating both your sermon and the full scope of the service.

And then there's the gospel you preach to the person who walks into the building 10 minutes after the service has ended, whose life is currently pretty messy, who came to their wits end and didn't know where else to turn, so they've come to you. And as you listen to their story, you realize the sermon and the service you just finished leading could have spoken pretty powerfully into the messiness of their situation, if only they'd shown up an hour earlier. But they didn't show up an hour earlier, they showed up now, 10 minutes after it was all over, and they are looking to you, now, in this moment, for a word of life and hope and light in a world that is overwhelming them with death, despair, and darkness.


You need to be prepared to preach the gospel in both situations.

Sermon, Write Thyself

Wait for it. . .



. . .waaaaaait for it. . .




Really? Nothing?


I figured it couldn't hurt to try. You miss 100% of the shots you never take, right?

If only I'd accepted that scholarship to Hogwarts instead of Luther, it just might have worked. :)

Ah well, back to my trusty legal pad, then. . .

Best 4th of July Ever

Independence Day is not anywhere close to my favorite holiday, but for some reason it always proves to be one of the most memorable ones in terms of the day's events.

I've experienced a number of memorable 4ths, including but not limited to: one hosting Adri and Martina during their very first visit to America, two in the nation's capital (as a teenager marching in the National 4th of July parade with the Flaketown Marching Band, and as a young adult living in DC), one driving back to Minnesota the day after Sarah and Rob's wedding (btw, Happy Anniversary yous twos!), and two as an ex-patriot (one with friends in Ottendorf-Okrilla, the other observed with fellow ex-patriots in a French bar in the Kunsthof of Dresden's Neustadt).

But today I got to celebrate the 4th with the bambino, on her very first day in Minnesota. And what made it the best and most memorable ever was the smile on her face and the excitement in her eyes when she realized it was Auntie C who had just walked in the door.

Every time I think I couldn't possibly love this kid any more than I already do, she goes and opens the door to a chamber in my heart that I didn't even know existed.