Facebook as Public Forum

So an old seminary friend wrote me on facebook the other day, asking my opinion on the health care bill. This led to a respectful and engaging discussion, not only of health care, but also of abortion (her concern was whether the bill had done enough to ensure the government is not funding abortions). This friend and I share many similar convictions, but we also differ strongly in some things, especially on the issue of abortion (she is passionately pro-life, and while I am not pro-abortion, I believe we can't legislate personal morality, so I am passionately pro-choice, and even more passionately pro what Jim Wallis calls a "consistent ethic of life" - I'm not so interested in condemning straw women as I am in constructing a better world, a world in which women - especially those in a tough spot - would find plenty of reason and support to bear any child they've conceived).

But I digress. . .my point in writing was how facebook can be a tool for public discourse. I know it doesn't always function that way. I know there is a danger in starting discussions like this on fb because most folks have a wide spectrum of friends, and the friends don't necessarily know each other and so don't have much background on where comments are coming from, nor much incentive to disagree in a way that maintains relationship. I've seen political comments on fb blow up on people in unintended ways, certainly, and that can get ugly.

But when it's done well, and respectfully, as I feel this friend and I have been doing over the last couple of days, then I think it can become an excellent model for healthy public discourse, as all your friends can "listen in," can see it going on before their eyes, can even contribute if they want. And in a media culture dominated by soundbites, sensationalism, and snarkiness resonating in the echo chamber of a 24/7 news cycle, in a society where daily life is increasingly spent among self-selecting groups of like-minded people, I think we need all the constructive models of public discourse that we can find.

That's all I've got for tonight. I have no idea how to encourage facebook's use as a public forum. Just think it'd be a tremendous tool toward that end.

And Catrina Saw That It Was Good

Spent most of the day today helping Breen and Patrick get the garden beds ready, and we also actually planted onions and garlic. The weather could not have been more perfect - not too cold, not too hot, just right humidity, bright and sunny with a nice gentle breeze. An absolutely gorgeous day to be out and about in a big beautiful world in the company of wonderful people. Adding to my bliss was a delicious breakfast to start us off right, and an even more delicious lunch (because Patrick grills the best hamburgers in the world), and during breaktime inside, I had fun playing with the cats, who are endlessly adorable and entertaining.

It's at the end of a day like this that I totally get what God is talking about, sitting down after a busy, full day of creating and sighing, "This is good."

It's also a day that puts me in mind of a famous G. K. Chesterton quote:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore. (From Orthodoxy)

If he's right, then I'd like to hold with God's eternal appetite of infancy, especially after a day like today, I say: Do it again!

The Madman Returneth

Remember the guy who hijacked our Sunday school class that one time, to tell us exactly why and how we're all going to hell? It has been almost two years since we've seen or heard anything from him, so I was hoping he'd forgotten we were out there on the hill, minding our own business as good little Lutherans do.

Alas, no. He has not forgotten. He stopped by today for another round of harassment. Thankfully I was out of the office and didn't have to deal with him face-to-face, but he left me a letter. I found it on my desk when I came in for tonight's soup supper. Once I realized what it was, I went out to the kitchen to ask the women who had been at the church all day making soup about who brought it and how they acted. Sure enough, it was "some guy with a big beard" but he thankfully didn't cause any problems or try to pick a fight with them, he just dropped the letter off for me. It wasn't addressed to me personally, just in an envelope labeled "for the pastor," so I'm sure it's a form letter he's inflicting upon all of us in the Valley this Lenten season, full of ramblings about the paganism of the Julian calendar and how we're all going to hell because of how we observe Easter.

Take a deep breath and do it with me now:

S I G H

Man it's crap like this that makes me pray, "Jesus, I love you, but please save me from your followers."

In stark contrast, the bishop's presentation was awesome tonight, as he beautifully explained the Lutheran understanding of the Word.

[At this point I was going to be all cool and link to the ELCA page where it talks about the three-fold nature of the Word, but I can't seem to find the page that says it. You'd think it'd be under the "what we believe" section, but I can't find it there; I know it's in the constitution but I can't find a way to link to the constitution, my computer keeps trying to download it instead. . .so, in case there are any curious non-Lutherans out there reading this, essentially we believe the Word is first and foremost Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh who was with God and was God from the very beginning; but the Word is also the proclaimed word, the spoken word, often heard in worship but able to be heard just about anywhere: in a hospital, at a deathbed, on a baseball bench, while riding a subway - anywhere the Word slays the old sinner and raises him or her up to new life as a saint, that's the proclaimed word; and finally, the holy scriptures, which are the words about the Word, and which, like the manger, cradle the Christ, the living Word. The bishop explained it all much more eloquently than this, and with aid of cool graphics, but now you know the jist of what he said.]

Ok, it's time for sleep. G'night.

It's Not the Metropolitan HD, THANK GOD, It's Live Opera!

Some quotes from this week's SVC rehearsals. The first two you kind of had to be there to hear the inflection of the voice and see the accompanying facial expression in order to fully appreciate their humor and quotability.


Rehearsing the "Witches Chorus" from Verdi's Macbeth:

Conductor Bill - "Altos, you're singing too pretty. Make it sound more witchy! Ok, let's run it again."
(After our first entrance, significantly witchified) "Oh dear. . ."



After the first run-through of "Il se fait tard" from Gounod's Faust:

Soloist Jill (pointing at Bill's score) - "Don't slow down, I'm not breathing there!"



No matter what we're singing, Bill has a habit of yelling "Opera chorus!" when he wants a really full, rich, core kind of sound and we're not producing it. This concert it's just kind of funny when he says it, because everything we're singing is an opera chorus!

Tonight we must have started too weak and wimpy on the "Voyagers Chorus" from from Mozart's Idomeneo, because pretty soon Bill was calling out "opera chorus!" After we finished:

Soloist Zak - "Your sound suddenly became so beautiful after he said 'opera chorus!' I don't know what that means, but keep doing it!"




While listening to soloist Jill rehearse "Quando m'en vo" from Puccini's La Boheme:

Fellow alto - "You know, TB was a very useful plot device."
Catrina - "It's making a comeback. In a few years opera can use it again."



As soon as we finish rehearsing our finale, the "Easter Hymn" from Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana:

Soloist Jill - "That was it."
Conductor Bill - nods
Jill - "No. That was it. (fanning herself) I'm getting all emotional here. . .friggin' Italians."



The title of this post also comes from Jill, it was her parting thought at the end of rehearsal, and came in response to Bill telling us what a treat it is to get to conduct this kind of music for the first time in his life. And she's totally right - how often do you get to hear live opera in central Pennsylvania? If you live around here, you should come to the concert!

It Ain't Over 'Til the Fat Lady Sings

For all you opera buffs in the Valley, SVC concerts this weekend, featuring a program of famous opera choruses and arias.

The Deadly. . .er. . .Daily Item did a nice write-up about it in today's paper (and they got most of the factual information correct for once!).

In the group picture, notice who is the only one actually watching the conductor. ;)

525,600 Minutes

It has been a year since that heartbreaking day last March when Lily Kathryn both came into and left this world.

In the course of this past year, I have been continually amazed to find how powerfully present she has been in the midst of her profound absence, in awe of the way she has touched the lives of people she will never know.

How do you measure the life of a person who never had the chance to live? How do you measure the year that was supposed to be her first year on earth?

I think Jonathan Larson had it right - whether for saints below or saints above.

Measure in love.

Mountains and Glaciers and Lakes, Oh My!

Lake McDonald, Glacier National Park


I spent last week in northwestern Montana, and not to go skiing.

In fact, I don't know how to downhill ski. The only time I've attempted it was the annual 6th grade field trip to Trollhaugen many, many years ago. After an ominous (but sort of impressive) wipeout on my first run down a "simple" hill, I spent the rest of the day snowplowing very slowly down each successive trail, and failed to see how alpine was superior to nordic skiing, which I already knew how to do and knew I enjoyed.

But I digress. . .some folks may wonder what kind of fool goes to western MT in the middle of winter with no intention of skiing the Rockies. But I had more important plans - my friend Deb has been pastoring out there three years now, and I had yet to go visit, though I'd been promising/threatening to help this beach-loving California girl learn to appreciate winter since the day she moved to the frigid north. So, I was finally making good on my promise, visiting Deb, and also getting to meet her new hubby Brad and dog-wonder, Kodi. But there was not much winter appreciation to be had - I landed in the midst of their February thaw! It felt like spring, but that was nice too - and meant I got to enjoy gorgeous views of the mountains for most of the week.

These pictures do not do the scenery justice, but at least give a glimpse.


Flathead Lake