Saturday, December 17, 2005

So this is Christmas . . .

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Lately I have been thinking about two very distinctly different memories of Christmas from my childhood. When I was very young my parents made quite a bit of money. My father, although uneducated, had started a carpet installation business and managed to land the contract for the largest housing complex being built at the time. I remember one year in particular when the tree was so packed with presents that we actually grew tired of unwrapping them.

A few years later, in one of my father's many impulsive quest for fulfillment, he gave it all up and bought a farm. It didn't take too long for the money to dwindle. I remember the first Christmas after the fact. No presents. I don't know if it was because there were really no funds, or if my parents were just so depressed they couldn't muster up the energy to make the effort. I know that there are programs out there to help get Christmas presents to children whose families are in need, but accepting charity was something my parents just didn't do. It was out of the question.

I guess looking back, I'm just puzzled at my own resilience as a child. I don't remember being crushed at the fact that there were no presents. I just remember that it was then that I came to an understanding of how dire our circumstances were. And I remember my parents misery. The downturn did eventually become an upturn for many a year afterwards. But our parents never did regain their original zeal for Christmas shopping. The bubble had burst.

Now, as an adult with two sons who are nearly grown, I have to say that Thanksgiving is the holiday I most look forward to. Yes I know that Christmas is and always will be special, the celebration of the birth of our Lord, the greatest gift of all. But we all lament the commercialism of Christmas as we continue to spend, spend, spend and run ourselves silly in search of that perfect gift.

But at Thanksgiving the focus is on how grateful we are - for family, for the table we are able to come to, for the abundance on it, and for the presence of God and His favor in our lives. We pray at our table, and talk about how much we appreciate one another and mean to each other. I talk to my sons about how, as a single mother, I could not have made it without the help of God.

I guess the reason I like Thanksgiving so much is that the focus is on the real gifts.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Great Quote



"Jesus was not asleep on the boat, the apostles were!"
Fr. Michael Louis Pfleger

Friday, December 09, 2005

The Annunciation


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Sandro Botticelli


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Henry Ossawa Tanner

Interestingly enough, the second painting is by an African American. Honestly, I think it is much more likely to reflect reality.


Yesterday we had our most controversial mass of the year - The mass for the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. I think the only ones present who believe in that particular doctrine are the visiting priest who does the mass, the four nuns who work at our school the handful of oldschool Catholics who raise a ruckus if we don't have the mass. Fr. Mike refuses to do it, but being that our school is Catholic, we have a visiting priest come in every year and do it. Our staff for the most part tries to emphasize the fact that Mary said yes to God and changed the world.

I work with two nuns who keep a watchful eye on me, especially when saying the Hail Mary. I refuse to say it. I'm not trying to be conspicuous about it, but its kind of hard not to be when people are staring at you!
I never would have survived Catholic school growing up. They would have thrown me in the dungeon or burned me at the stake.
Regardless, the annunciation has been a popular theme throughout art history. I thought a comparison of two would be interesting.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

UPDATES

I got an A in one of my courses from this past quarter. The other course was pass/fail - yes I passed.
Also recieved an anonymous Christmas gift - a cook book. Pretty cool.
Made my day. . .

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

To Tree or not to Tree

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This is my oldest son's first year at college. Recently there was a big debate in his dorm about putting up a Christmas tree. Some of the students felt it wouldn't be "inclusive" to put up a tree. My son's response?
"If anyone doesn't like Christmas they can go to hell! Why would you come to a Catholic university and bitch about the policies?"

You go Abe. Take a stand for Christ.

The apple doesn't roll far from the tree. . .

Monday, November 28, 2005

Repost - Proverbs

I have added to my original Proverbs post from time to time, so I decided to repost it.

On a recent trip to the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago I noticed that it seemed to be an ancient custom for fathers to write down proverbs for their sons. I thought this was pretty cool, so even though I am a single mother, I decided I would start to do the same for my sons. What follows is the beginning of my list. I hope to have more and will add them as they come to me.

1. The words that you speak about another person reveal more about what is in your own heart than it ever will about them.

2. Arrogance is the hubris of the deeply insecure.

3. Confidence is knowing what you have. Arrogance is acting like you have more of it than anyone else. Making others feel that way is obnoxious.

4. Anger doesn't need a reason, just a target.

5. In general, people don't decide they like or dislike you based on how they feel about you, but rather how they feel about themselves when they are around you. (this is not something that is always under your control)

6. If you do what you need to do when you need to do it, eventually you will be able to do what you want to do when you want to do it.

7. Empathy is not an abstract concept. You should have it, and people should feel that you have it.

8. Life is like a baseball game. There are those who step up to the plate and swing at the ball, and there are those who sit in the dugout and watch others play the game.

9. Look where you are going. Think like you are already there.

10. Stay away from people who consistently badmouth others. They have a way of separating you from the people you need the most.

11. Prayer saves time. Tithing saves money.

12. Human communication is an inexact science at best. Just because you heard what someone said, don't believe you necessarily heard what they meant.

13. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1) If we stay focused on things as they are and have been, it is unlikely that we will ever see them become as they can and should be.

14. One of the most revolutionary things you can do is to tell the truth, especially when it isn't easy and it isn't welcome.

15. The people who say the most aren't always the people who have the most to say.

16. Anyone who thinks they are incapable of being deceived already is.

17. Remember, the stone you throw today might just come crashing through your own window tomorrow.

18. Never allow your personal relationships to blind you to the screaming obvious and inhibit your ability to make sound decisions.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

How times have changed . . .

When I was in high school my best friend went to Austria and Germany as a foreign exchange student. When she first arrived the father of her host family ran up to her and hugged her and said to her in broken English. "You American? I like Americans. Me POW in WWII. American's treat me good!"
There used to be a time when the best thing that could happen to average Joe soldier was to be captured by the U.S. Many times you were treated better, clothed better, and fed better than you were fighting for your own country. We set the standard for treatment of prisoners of war during a military conflict and it was a high one. We were the example.
What happened? When did sickening acts of sexual, physical and mental torture become acceptable?

Friday, November 25, 2005

Torture is not us!

Click on the picture to send an email to your representative asking them to support the anti- torture amendment.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

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You may or may not know this, but I was married to a man from India for 8 years. We have two sons and have been divorced for a little over ten years. Despite this fact, it is only recently that I have become interested in Indian cinema. If you have not been exposed to Bollywood, the name for Bombay's movie industry, they are unashamedly the biggest film producers in the world and they play by no one's rules but their own. Every Indian film is a musical with several obligatory song and dance routines incorporated into the movie. More often than not the plot involves lovers for whom it seems the whole universe is conspiring to keep apart.
Nobody does romance like Bollywood. The lovers dance, prance, flirt and sing through fields of wildflowers. They embrace in the pouring rain. They swing back and forth in the moonlight, and dance under waterfalls, all the while singing of timeless passion that burns like a flame.
However sweet and sometimes silly these scenes come across, recently I have found myself facsinated with them. And the funny thing is that I think of them most often when contemplating intimacy with God. In fact, it seems as if to me God is beckoning me to let go and allow him to woo me with this same type of abandon. I've been in love, as has most everyone. And when you're in love, and its new, doesn't it seem like nothing can touch you? you can lose your job, you car and the roof over your head and you don't care...because you've found something money can't buy...you're in love.

Excuse me, I have a field to prance across with the lover of my soul...

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

A Dream

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Funny dream.
I dreamed that I was laying face down riding on the roof of a train. I was holding on for dear life. The train was going very fast and it was out of my control. I thought, " If we come to a tunnel, I may lose my life." But oddly enough, I wasn't afraid. I closed my eyes and I began to thank God for the life He had given me so far. Then I began to sing praises to Him. The train stopped and I was in a different place. I was safe and everyone was surprised that I had survived.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Jesus Unedited.

Jesus didn't play the church game.
He wasn't running for political office.
He didn't have handlers.
He didn't hire a PR firm.
He didn't try to make people "happy."

In fact, he upset people on a regular basis. Not everyone walked away from what Jesus had to say with a smile on their face. In fact some went away mad, sad, glad and everything in between.

He turned over tables.
He spoke the truth.
To everyone.

Peter, the Scribes and Pharisees, the woman at the well, the rich young ruler... and of course how could it be otherwise, after all, He was the incarnation of the Spirit of Truth. A ruckus ensued nearly everywhere this man went. Not everyone is ready for the truth.

Not everyone is ready for Jesus unedited.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Fall Leaves

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One of the things I love about my new place of residence is that I walk to work every day. It is close to a mile and a half. After doing this for a month, I am really beginning to feel great physically. As I walk, many times I pray. Just last week I was walking along, kicking the fall leaves, I was praying about my attitude, which I admit, really has not been great lately. I have been wrestling with depression, fatigue, and just a downright negative attutude in general. I have been complaining quite a bit to be honest. I have yet to find those particular attributes listed among the fruits of the Holy Spirit...

I was praying about this, and asking God to help me to give Him what He deserves and He spoke to me in a crystal clear voice, "Not grudingly, or of necessity." Wow. I hear that quote every Sunday before offering. I always connect it with money. I had never really connected it with personal service. I realised that my service to God of late has been given grudging and forced. I realised I hadn't been giving out of a sense of joyous gratitude. I had just felt tired, tired, tired all the time. And no wonder. Dragging your feet certainly has the capacity to drain your energy.

God must have not felt He had gotten through, because He had yet another message for me.
1 Corinthinas 15:58
"Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord for you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."


Sunday, November 06, 2005

More Langston

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MOTHER TO SON
Well, son, I'll tell you
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor,

Bare.
But all the time
I'se been climbin' on
And reachin' landin's
And turning corners
And sometimes goin' on in the dark
Where there aint been no light.
So, Boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you find it kinder hard.
Don't you fall now-
For I'se still climbin'
And life for me ain't been
no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes


Wednesday, November 02, 2005

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When I was a teenager I loved reading Ray Bradbury. I had actually forgotten about his work until just recently. I ordered this book on Amazon.com and began reading it almost the minute it got here. I couldn't put it down. It was even more thrilling than I remembered it. If you haven't read " The Martian Chronicles", you don't know what you are missing. For all of you Star Wars fans, he was the original. He was the best. I highly recommend this book.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

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The Temptation of St. Anthony
Salvador Dali

I'm drawn to Salvador Dali's work. I don't know why. Perhaps because he seems to embrace the feeling of absurdity that I have from time to time about life amd the church in particular.I love my church. But sometimes it seems to me that the hardest thing on earth is just to go into church and serve God with all your heart. It all seems a little absurd to me. You sing a song one Sunday and bless the congregation and two weeks later you find that you are now the victim of a major haters campaign to destroy your reputation...
I actually had a woman resent me for being asked to take attendance on a bus one time. It gets a little weird. A few years ago I taught one woman all of my tricks to decorating. Before I knew it she was pushing me out of my ministry, taking over and trying to boss me!
Several years ago I took on the altar cloth ministry. I am the sole member of an elite team of one. Every week Fr. Mike puts the altar cloth out on the rail for me and I iron it.
I love this job. I do it all alone when no one else is around and hardly a soul knows that its my job. No competition here. Just me waging the weekly battles against candle wax and the two distinguished gentlemen who will wad last week's cloth up in an unforgiving ball if I don't stop them first. (Not to mention any names, Fr. Mike and Vince)
That is my favorite ministry by far, because it is unseen and unheard, except by the only one that really matters - God.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Catching Hell

Well, I suppose I should have seen it coming. The hell and high water. I mean, if you beleive that satan and his forces do exist, and I do, and you have the nerve to run around claiming to be "Inexpugnable" you should know that you are setting yourself up to be proven wrong. You might as well paint a big bulls eye on your life, swing the door wide open and say, "Come on in and have at it!" I mean, come on, he is the prince of this world, the prince of darkness, and even though we know who wins he actually does a pretty good job of keeping many Christians cowed and bullied, walking on egg shells. So no, it shouldn't have been a surprise to me that when I stood up and challenged his psuedo authority, he got a little...shall we say pissed. So yes, I have been catching crazy hell for a while now. But I've got a message for you lucifer. I'm still
INEXPUGNABLE!

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Monday, October 24, 2005

Thursday, October 20, 2005

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When I was a child on the farm, one of the most exausting things that could happen to you is to get stuck in the muck. Woe to the happless wanderer who ventured unwittingly into the muck. It was really horrible. Usually you had your work boots on anyway, which were huge and heavy just by themselves. You would exhaust yourself to pull one foot up, just to have it sucked back down again. At times you would have to get a helping hand or a stick to lean on to get yourself out. Yuck. If there is one thing I learned from the experience, it was that just because your tired, doesn't mean you've been climbing. My battles in the muck field taught me that you can wear yourself out going nowhere. I wonder how many times we make that mistake spiritually. How many times do we play the role of Martha, running ourselves ragged doing good deeds while forgetting or neglecting " the better thing."

The "Left Behind" series has been a big hit. People have spent so much time and energy reading the books and focusing on the rapture and end times. But I have to wonder if the bigger concern of our lives shouldn't be over getting left behind by the wind of the Spirit and what God is doing on this earth in the here and now. Could it be possible to be stuck so deeply in the muck of our old habits, ways and ideas that we fail to even realise we have been left behind, even as those around us are caught up into the new things of God? Just because you're tired, doesn't mean you've been climbing.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Their Graves were Marked with Stones



I called my mother to tell her that I had met some African-Americans with our last name. She told me that there is a family cemetery where there is a plot of graves of our family's former slaves that were just marked with stones. I am going to try to visit during Thanksgiving this year to go see it.

It truly amazes me that even while looking into the face of human mortality, people could be so indifferent to the lives of others. I am so saddened that the slaves of my ancestors were not even seen as being worthy of proper grave markers.

Family Reunion

My family owned slaves.
There is no getting around that fact. We have the documentation to prove it.
In fact some of my ancestors were instrumental in getting legislation passed that would make the enslavement of Native Americans legal.
For more years than I recall I have wanted to find the descendants of my family's slaves. But I had so many questions. In our family wills, they didn't even bother to put last names.

"The slave woman, Mary

The boy, Raphe"

Last night I was standing in line to sign my name and an African-American couple were in front of me. As they stepped away I looked at the name they had signed and stopped in my tracks.

It was my maiden name.

My maiden name is not a common one.

I touched the woman on the arm and drew her to the side. I pointed to her signature because even though I had watched her sign it with my own eyes, I couldn't believe it. I asked her, "Is that your name?" She said yes.
I told her that was my maiden name. I asked her if I could get her information so that I could contact her. I stammered and paused not knowing quite how to say the words. They caught in my throat.
"My family owned slaves."

We spoke very little, but understood each other perfectly. I couldn't believe how sweet and gracious she was to me. I told her how this had been a prayer of mine. Knowing my family history, and the rarity of my maiden name, I said in an awed whisper, "It has to be."

She looked at me and said "Yes."


Monday, October 10, 2005

A Raisin in the Sun

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A Dream Deferred

by Langston Hughes


What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Science Fair

Well, as most of y'all know, I'm in school now. I had to write a paper and I used what I think is one of the more humorous episodes from my childhood as an illustration. I thought I would post it here, because to me it was quite funny...especially since the main character wasn't above seeing the humor of her situation.

Making the Grade

When I was a child our family moved quite a bit. During my 13 years of primary education and High School we moved a total of five times, and I attended 7 different schools during this time period. One of those schools was a tiny little rural school called Pleasant Lake Elementary. Even though it was a small country school, it was actually one of the better ones I attended. It had a great Music program, but in particular, it’s the science program that stands out in my mind. Pleasant Lake Elementary did the science fair and did it well. We worked for what seemed like months on our projects. The whole school was focused on this annual event. Even students as young as the third grade submitted entries. It was a very big deal indeed. Two years in a row I did my project on honeybees.

There is only one other project that I remember specifically from those years. It earned an indelible place in my memory bank. It was the project on calories submitted to our fifth grade class by my classmate, Jeanine. Jeanine’s project was stunning. We, her classmates, had spent hours cutting out letters, frantically pasting pictures, and drawing on our white poster boards like men on fire. But our projects could not hold a candle to Jeanine’s. Her headings were typed. Her pictures were flawless. They were mounted perfectly. It put our less than pristine attempts at the art of gluing construction paper to poster board to shame. There was little doubt to our young minds that her project stood heads and tails above the rest.

Jeanine’s presentation was as equally impressive as her display. She stood confidently up by the teacher’s desk as she spoke, framed by the sunlight pouring through the windows of our second floor classroom. When she opened her mouth to speak, we were astounded as we sat listening to a flood of scientific lingo that rolled deftly off her tongue. We watched with rapt attention as she heated up her Bunsen burner. We had never heard or seen anything like it and we were duly impressed. That spring, during the heady days of science fair fever, Jeanine earned the rarest of rare compliments from our otherwise rowdy fifth grade class –we sat listening in awestruck silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

Suddenly a voice from the back of the room pierced the silence with an inquiry. It was the voice of Mrs. Fee, our teacher, asking Jeanine a question about her project. Jeanine responded to the question with another flood of the scientific lingo that had so effectively amazed the rest of her classmates. Mrs. Fee’s voice reflected something other than amazement as she asked, “What does that mean, Jeanine?” Jeanine’s face began to redden and broke out in a sheepish grin as she replied, “I don’t know.” Mrs. Fee asked Jeanine another question about her project and was answered by yet another flurry of scientific lingo. Mrs. Fee again asked Jeanine, “What does that mean?” and once again Jeanine, her face growing an even deeper shade of red, responded that she did not know.

The cat was out of the bag, and our class erupted in giggles. The final death knell tolled on Jeanine’s project when Mrs. Fee asked her who had actually done her project.

Caught up in the merriment of her classmates, Jeanine responded, while giggling herself, “My mother and sister.”

Friday, October 07, 2005

The Green Knight Hits a Home Run

Regardless of your political beliefs, I highly recommend reading this excellent article by The Green Knight.

http://thegreenknight.blogspot.com/2005/10/harris-again.html

A Prayer for Today

Dear Lord,
I know that your word tells us that everyday is a day to rejoice,
but I have to be honest.
I'm not looking forward to today.
I know that every day is full of uncertainty, but this day is even more so for me.
Today I have no idea what to expect from
my students,
the faculty,
the administration,
or even really
myself.

I'm afraid.

Father, I know that you know all things,
so you know that the day before yesterday
a student from our school walked in on a burglar in his home.
You know that this ruthless person didn't stop at taking things that could be replaced,
such as stereos and t.v.s.
This person, took something so irreplaceable
....that child's life.
And he didn't just take it, but did it in a way that was so ugly and cruel.

He was a good kid Father.
An A&B student who never got in trouble at school.

I don't understand.

Lord, be with us today, as we walk the halls of our school,
and sit in our classrooms.
Be with that child's parents and family as they struggle
through grief,
and the anguish of making funeral arrangements.
Be with them as they come to terms with saying goodbye to a 14 year old boy
who should have been able to walk into his own home without finding himself in the
wrong place at the wrong time.

What if it were my child?

Be with us Lord.


Thursday, October 06, 2005

Guernica

This is one painting I believe I feel more than actually see. It illustrates
the horrors of war more accurately than words ever could, I feel.... the screaming horse, the broken bodies, the horrified faces... Collateral damage?

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Guernica

Pablo Picasso

Monkey see...



My pirate name is:


Red Mary Bonney



Passion is a big part of your life, which makes sense for a pirate. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

UPDATE

VICTORY IS SWEET

After meeting with Fr. Mike and several other community leaders today the construction company in question agreed to acquiesce to our demands that they hire at least a 50% African American work force.

I guess they decided we were serious after all.


One out of 25 =25%?

Demonstration at Catholic Charities construction site

- A protest at a South Side construction turns ugly when demonstrators try to physically stop the work.

"Get your hands off me or arrest me," said Father Michael Pfleger of Saint Sabina Church, who led the protest at a Catholic Charities site, 1210 W. 78th Place. Father Pfleger says the project isn't using enough minority workers.

Catholic Charities says 25-percent of those involved are minority owned businesses. Pfleger says that's not enough.

"They have been promising to hire and so far he's hired one African-American and that is not acceptable in the African-American community. We have a whole database of union people, electric, masonry, the whole thing. He won't hire," said Father Michael Pfleger, Saint Sabina Church.

Police called to the scene asked the protestors to leave because they were on private property. Catholic Charities say they are following hiring practices used by the Archdiocese of Chicago and the City of Chicago.



1. We didn't "try" to stop construction, we did stop it.
2. Not only were they not hiring African American's for the project, they had the nerve to have a sign directing applicants to OUR employment resource center, even though they only hired one person we sent to them.
3. Our employment resource director has spoken to them repeatedly about this since July to no avail.
4. They agreed to our terms of employment when they accepted the contract.
5. Some cocky little policeman tried to put some kind of a pain grip on Fr. Mike.
6. C.,this one is for you. Scout broke through the police line and climbed down in a hole under a back hoe.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Sunday, October 02, 2005


Happy Birthday Gandhiji!

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Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
October 2, 1869 - January 30, 1948

Saturday, October 01, 2005

We have Lift Off!

Wooo Hoooo! I got a new computer that is even better than my old one! Well...its new to me anyway. Its a 2 yr old Dell Inspiron lap top. Much bigger than the petite little loaner I was working on, but still portable enough to take into the living room and work on my homework with my feet up!!! Yes, I got a little spoiled about that...
Thanks to all of you for your prayers and kind words! OOOOXXXXX from Angevoix.

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Some days I don't want to be clay

Some days, I don't want to be the clay. The clay gets pinched. The clay gets squeezed. The clay gets molded, and even sometimes cut. I've heard for years, that as the body of Christ, we are called to be His hands and feet, to allow Him to live His life through us, and that we are called to yield to the process of being transformed into the image and likeness of Christ. Sometimes I approach this process with great passion. Sometimes I want to run in the opposite direction. And then sometimes, I want to flop down on the floor like a stubborn child, poke my lip out and say "no." Sometimes I don't want to be clay. Sometimes I don't want to be Jesus with skin on, His hands and feet... Sometimes I don't want to think one more thought about poverty, racism, or any of the other "isms" our society is infected with. Sometimes I don’t want to think about anything more serious than whether to cut my sandwich on the diagonal or straight across.

We talk about being transformed into the image and likeness of Christ. But which image are we speaking of? Is it the image of a son so submitted to the will of His father that he was willing to become a helpless infant in the hands of strangers? Or is it the bruised and battered Jesus, spit on, despised and rejected of men? What about the victorious Jesus, returning on a white horse? How about the image of Jesus kneeling in agonized prayer in the garden asking, “Father if..,” Can we choose which Jesus we become? I suspect that just as all of these images and so many others are all parts of the whole, we have to experience all of these aspects of Jesus as parts of our whole experience of being transformed into His image and likeness. And when I go through my “garden” experiences in the process of transformation, I am so glad that the Bible doesn’t try to clean up the story for the more “sensitive viewing audience.” I’m glad that it records that Jesus whispered an “if”. I’m glad that it tells the truth that there were moments when Jesus didn’t want to be the clay.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

My Disclaimer

My home computer is down at present. Would appreciate your prayers as I am taking 12 credit hours of classes on line this quarter.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Thursday, September 22, 2005

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I would like to ask the question, " What constitutes a civilized society?" It seems to me that all too often in American culture we equate "civilization" with technology. I have heard other cultures dismissed as backward because of their lack of material possessions and comforts such as electricity and automobiles. But what about other factors, such as the way we care for one another? Our children? Our elders? What about issues of human rights, education, healthcare, and employment? Shouldn't a society be measured by these factors as well? What about the way that we resolve conflict and interact with other nations/cultures?

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

I am the Clay - Episode I

Jazztheo asked that I tell my story. I told him I need to think about it.
I am reluctant even as I write this. I have been turning it over and over in my mind, asking myself what my story actually is. I am a White woman, living in the inner-city, in love with children, dedicated to serving them. I don't want to be here. I want to be on a little farm somewhere as close as you can possibly get to nowhere. I want to get up in the morning and hear my sheep bleating and walk down the rows of my garden inspecting my pea vines while sipping my morning coffee. But here I am in the middle of the city. Starving for some real grass, real trees, and stars that fill the night sky. Sometimes I want to walk away. But every morning I go into work and I greet the most beautiful little faces one could ever hope to encounter. They range in color from the palest beige to the deepest mahogany. To win their devotion all one has to do is really listen to what they have to say. I go home at night and their faces and their stories haunt my dreams and my waking hours. My greatest temptation is not money, or addictive substances, or sex. My greatest struggle is my desire to live for self. I know that I could go off and live a peaceful and happy life. I'm very easily satisfied. A good book, a good cup of tea, and I am set. My ambitions for myself are so mundane. But my ambitions for my children...they are boundless. I want my children to have all the choices in life that I have surrendered. I want them to not only see the stars that are now vacant from our skies, but to reach them. I want them to have opportunities and resources that other children take for granted. I want them to be free. Free in the sense that nothing can hold them back from their destinies.

That's what drives me, for the most part. That is what makes me tick... the path I took to get to this point was a treacherous one. Much of the time it still seems that way. I have known hunger,sexism, rape, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and emotional abuse, the death of a loved one, loss of job, neglect, divorce, abandonment. . . I guess that was my path to Prophetic Christianity. Funny how suffering can make you sensitive to the pain of others. And I would also guess that my reluctance to share my story stems from the sentiment that I don't want to be thought of as a victim.

As far as my educational goals...I want to finish my degree and work in education in some capacity, if not teaching. Then I want to pursue a Master's in Theology. Lord willing...

If at first...

Let's try it again...
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Harmonie Rouge
Henri Matisse 1909

Sunday, September 18, 2005

And a Fine Time Was Had By All...

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Notice how he is wearing a smile in this one... if ever so slight...

Saturday, September 17, 2005

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Well, its here. The annual Chicago Celtic Fest. My family and I (which consist of my two sons and I) go to this every year. It is one of our little traditions that we refuse to give up for anything or anyone. Being of Scotch Irish descent, its rare that we do get a chance to celebrate that part of our heritage. So today I am going to take a break from trying to solve the problems of the world and kick back and do my best to have one hell of a great time with my kids. Hope you find the time and the excuse to do the same with your family this weekend. If Hurricane Katrina has taught us nothing else, it is that tomorrow is promised to no one. Love those around you. Forgive those who have hurt you. Give more than is comfortable. Care at the risk of having your heart broken. Change your mind. Admit you were wrong. Try something new. Get out of your rut. And while you're doing it, say a prayer for Angevoix and hers, and I'll say one for you and yours.
How about it?

Friday, September 16, 2005

From Outside the Camp

My thanks to Dr. Mike Kear for this post from Outside the Camp.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Prophetic Christianity, Isaiah Style

"Quit your worship charades. I can't stand your trivial religious games: Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings - meetings, meetings, meetings - I can't stand one more! Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them! You've worn me out! I'm sick of your religion, religion, religion, while you go right on sinning. When you put on your next prayer-performance, I'll be looking the other way. No matter how long or loud or often you pray, I'll not be listening. And do you know why? Because you've been tearing people to pieces, and your hands are bloody.

"Your coins are all counterfeits. Your wine is watered down. Your leaders are turncoats who keep company with crooks. They sell themselves to the highest bidder and grab anything not nailed down. They never stand up for the homeless, never stick up for the defenseless. Go home and wash up. Clean up your act. Sweep your lives clean of your evildoings so I don't have to look at them any longer. Say no to wrong. Learn to do good. Work for justice. Help the down-and-out. Stand up for the homeless. Go to bat for the defenseless.

"Come. Sit down. Let's argue this out." This is God's Message: "If your sins are blood-red, they'll be snow-white. If they're red like crimson, they'll be like wool. If you'll willingly obey, you'll feast like kings. But if you're willful and stubborn, you'll die like dogs." That's right. God says so.


From Isaiah 1, The Message

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Who Is My Neighbor?

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"A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. 'Look after him,' he said, 'and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.'

"Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"

The expert in the law replied, "The one who had mercy on him."
Jesus told him, "Go and do likewise."

Luke 10: 30-37

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Hoppin mad

Let me start this post with a disclaimer --- my purpose is not to boast about what my church has done...
I just returned from a parish council meeting and I am hoppin mad. Our church has been so successful in helping Katrina victims that the Red Cross and Salvation Army were referring victims to us. We had someone offer to donate 20 downtown apartments to us rent free for five months...downtown luxury apartments. We asked three downtown churches if they would be willing to open up their arms and commit to being family for these people. ALL THREE SAID NO! INCLUDING THE CARDINAL'S CHURCH!
They said they didn't have the resources... Now please keep in mind that our church is located in a low income community and that the downtown churches are some of the wealthiest in the city.
I would just like to know what the hell we are about.

CW on Hurricane Katrina

My thanks to jazztheo for directing me to this article.

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Exiles from a city and from a nation

Cornel West
Sunday September 11, 2005
The Observer


It takes something as big as Hurricane Katrina and the misery we saw among the poor black people of New Orleans to get America to focus on race and poverty. It happens about once every 30 or 40 years.

What we saw unfold in the days after the hurricane was the most naked manifestation of conservative social policy towards the poor, where the message for decades has been: 'You are on your own'. Well, they really were on their own for five days in that Superdome, and it was Darwinism in action - the survival of the fittest. People said: 'It looks like something out of the Third World.' Well, New Orleans was Third World long before the hurricane.

It's not just Katrina, it's povertina. People were quick to call them refugees because they looked as if they were from another country. They are. Exiles in America. Their humanity had been rendered invisible so they were never given high priority when the well-to-do got out and the helicopters came for the few. Almost everyone stuck on rooftops, in the shelters, and dying by the side of the road was poor black.

In the end George Bush has to take responsibility. When [the rapper] Kanye West said the President does not care about black people, he was right, although the effects of his policies are different from what goes on in his soul. You have to distinguish between a racist intent and the racist consequences of his policies. Bush is still a 'frat boy', making jokes and trying to please everyone while the Neanderthals behind him push him more to the right.

Poverty has increased for the last four or five years. A million more Americans became poor last year, even as the super-wealthy became much richer. So where is the trickle-down, the equality of opportunity? Healthcare and education and the social safety net being ripped away - and that flawed structure was nowhere more evident than in a place such as New Orleans, 68 per cent black. The average adult income in some parishes of the city is under $8,000 (£4,350) a year. The average national income is $33,000, though for African-Americans it is about $24,000. It has one of the highest city murder rates in the US. From slave ships to the Superdome was not that big a journey.

New Orleans has always been a city that lived on the edge. The white blues man himself, Tennessee Williams, had it down in A Streetcar Named Desire - with Elysian Fields and cemeteries and the quest for paradise. When you live so close to death, behind the levees, you live more intensely, sexually, gastronomically, psychologically. Louis Armstrong came out of that unbelievable cultural breakthrough unprecedented in the history of American civilisation. The rural blues, the urban jazz. It is the tragi-comic lyricism that gives you the courage to get through the darkest storm.

Charlie Parker would have killed somebody if he had not blown his horn. The history of black people in America is one of unbelievable resilience in the face of crushing white supremacist powers.

This kind of dignity in your struggle cuts both ways, though, because it does not mobilise a collective uprising against the elites. That was the Black Panther movement. You probably need both. There would have been no Panthers without jazz. If I had been of Martin Luther King's generation I would never have gone to Harvard or Princeton.

They shot brother Martin dead like a dog in 1968 when the mobilisation of the black poor was just getting started. At least one of his surviving legacies was the quadrupling in the size of the black middle class. But Oprah [Winfrey] the billionaire and the black judges and chief executives and movie stars do not mean equality, or even equality of opportunity yet. Black faces in high places does not mean racism is over. Condoleezza Rice has sold her soul.

Now the black bourgeoisie have an even heavier obligation to fight for the 33 per cent of black children living in poverty - and to alleviate the spiritual crisis of hopelessness among young black men.

Bush talks about God, but he has forgotten the point of prophetic Christianity is compassion and justice for those who have least. Hip-hop has the anger that comes out of post-industrial, free-market America, but it lacks the progressiveness that produces organisations that will threaten the status quo. There has not been a giant since King, someone prepared to die and create an insurgency where many are prepared to die to upset the corporate elite. The Democrats are spineless.

There is the danger of nihilism and in the Superdome around the fourth day, there it was - husbands held at gunpoint while their wives were raped, someone stomped to death, people throwing themselves off the mezzanine floor, dozens of bodies.

It was a war of all against all - 'you're on your own' - in the centre of the American empire. But now that the aid is pouring in, vital as it is, do not confuse charity with justice. I'm not asking for a revolution, I am asking for reform. A Marshall Plan for the South could be the first step.

· Dr Cornel West is professor of African American studies and religion at Princeton University. His great grandfather was a slave. He is a rap artist and appeared as Counsellor West in Matrix Reloaded and Matrix Revolutions.

Interview by Joanna Walters, in Princeton, New Jersey

Monday, September 12, 2005

The Little Prince

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"What makes the desert beautiful, is that somewhere it hides a well..."
The Little Prince
Antoine de Saint-Exupery


I couldn't make this up...

"What I'm hearing, which is sort of scary, is they all want to stay in Texas. Everyone is so overwhelmed by the hospitality. And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them."
Barbara Bush

Sunday, September 11, 2005

This is My Body

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One of the things I love about my faith community is that we do actually behave much like a family. We spend a lot of time in casual fellowship. This is very different from most of the churches I have attended in the past, although I would not want to posit that is indicative of churches across the board. Frequently we go to dinner after our Sunday service. This Sunday was special...
This Sunday I ended up having dinner with a group which included two married couples I had not had a chance to get to know. They were very familiar with New Orleans. some at the table had family there, some deeply affected by the hurricane. We had a very interesting discussion about the French Quarter, etc...
but towards the end of our meal the discussion turned to Mississippi. It just so happened that one of the women, Bertie was raised in Money, Mississippi. If you don't know, Money is the location of the infamous Emmett Till murder. In fact Bertie had seen Emmett Till playing checkers on the porch of the store which was the site of the alleged wolf whistle.
Bertie told us that back in those days there was no where for them to use the bathroom, so they had to go down under a bridge to relieve themselves. One day her fifteen year old cousin was doing just that. He stood up to pull up his pants and had the very unfortunate luck of doing so while a White woman was walking past. The next thing he knew he was up against the wall of the store with a barrage of pistols held to his head. He spent 15 years in prison for being a 15 year old kid with no where to use the bathroom. You know, I've read about this stuff all of my life, but somehow every time I hear a first hand account such as this one it affects me totally differently. It cuts me to the quick. I can't explain it. Its not a textbook anymore. It isn't a book I checked out of the library. Its sitting there in front of me in flesh and blood detail.
Bertie also told us about how a black man walking down the street wasn't allowed to look at a white woman's underwear hanging out to dry on the clothes line. Another African American woman at the table talked about how just being able to navigate going out the door everyday was a matter of survival. Another young woman sitting at the table told of a young White man from Mississippi who did not know it was illegal to kill a Black person until he was grown and joined the service. Bertie said that she had never gone to church or school with a White person while she lived there. In fact she had never even been to the movies until she moved.
You know I hear from my family and others that they support the "war on terror" because they don't want to be afraid to walk out of their doors. They say it as if it is a new thing in America. Far from it. It's a new thing for White America.

Saturday, September 10, 2005

For those of you who appreciated the photos of Kathy Red on red current daily image, you'll be happy to hear that she has posted some new ones.
you can access them by clicking
here: http://redcurrentphotos.blogspot.com/

"Those who would like the God of scripture to be more purely ethical, do not know what they ask."

--The Problem of Pain
C.S.Lewis

During the past week I have heard many theories about Hurricane Katrina and the reason for her devastation, especially regarding her toll in human life. I have heard that it was the judgment of God on New Orleans for the wickedness of the city. I have heard as well that people who were listening to the voice of the Holy Spirit would have known to get out of there. The fact that the infamous/famous Bourbon street was largely untouched and that the first business to reopen in New Orleans was a bar on said street sets the first "theory" tumbling. And from what I understand, the issue in most cases wasn't knowing to get out, but was rather having the means to do so. I really hope that we aren't still positing that one's financial resources are a direct indication of their spirituality. Will the body of Christ please grow up?

What is it about us that struggles so hard to make sense of tragedy? Our reaction to catastrophe is similar, I think, to the one we have when we hear that someone in excellent condition had a heart attack, or someone who always ate healthy was diagnosed with cancer. The young Bible college student dies in a car crash, while her lascivious, selfish neighbor lives on to his 90th birthday. The responsible young couple can't conceive, while the abusive negligent parent has six children and is expecting the seventh. The man who is kind, caring and doting is married to the selfish woman who can't be grateful because nothing is ever enough. The honors student is shot in a drive by. The fiance dies three days before his wedding. Things aren't supposed to happen that way. It causes us to do a mental and emotional double take. It throws all of our theories to the wind. It upsets us.We question ourselves. We question each other. And if we are honest, we question God.

I've found the programs, such as Good Morning America, who promise to answer " all of our questions" to be amusing, in a little bit of a sick way. Sorry Charlie... I don't think so. It would be impossible for you to answer my questions because at this point I don't even know how to formulate a question out of what I am feeling. All I know is that I walk around with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach and end up crying for no apparent reason while doing something innocuous, like ironing. Not only do I not know what to ask, I don't know what to say. Everything seems to have a hollow ring to it. I don't know what to think, or how to even feel about it. I feel guilty for going about my life as usual and indulging even the smallest pleasure. And to be really honest...right now I'm even having trouble knowing what to pray....shhhhhh.
Answer that,Charlie!


Wednesday, September 07, 2005

C is for Compassion

"I have never aspired to be a professional academic or scholar. Instead, I have tried to be a man of letters in love with ideas in order to be a wiser and more loving person, hoping to leave the world just a little better than I found it. I take great delight in the free play of the mind, and I believe intellectual work is indispensable for social change. Yet, in the end, I place compassion far above smartness and wisdom light-years ahead of cleverness."
Cornel West

Dear Dr. King III

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Dear Dr. King,
What made you become a reformer and leader?
Was it courage?
Was it power?
What was your real dream?
What made you tell the truth?
White people said you lied,
but you didn't.
You told every Black person your real dream!
For all the things you did in your life you are blessed.
Kyle, age 7

Monday, September 05, 2005

"Okaaaaay..."


"The system is working."

Lt. General Russel Honore
Commander of Joint Task Force Katrina

Black People "Loot" while White People "Find"

"A young man walks chest deep through flood water after looting a grocery store in New Orleans on Tuesday....."





"Two residents wade through chest-deep water after finding bread and soda from a local grocery store..."

Sunday, September 04, 2005

"The hatred and contempt of the oppressed masses are increasing, and the physical and moral forces of the wealthy are weakening; the deception on which everything depends is wearing out, and the wealthy classes have nothing to console themselves with in this mortal danger. To return to the old ways is not possible; only one thing is left for those who do not wish to change their way of life, and that is to hope that "things will last my time"- after that let happen what may. That is what the blind crowd of the rich are doing, but the danger is ever growing and the catastrophe draws near."
Leo Tolstoy

Dear Mr. President,
How are you feeling? While watching the news for the past couple of days, I have seen a lot of footage of you. You have held press conferences, made the best possible use of your photo ops, surveyed the damage in the wake of Katrina, and "comforted" the victims that you met along the way. I have a few questions I would like to ask you.
I want to know, how did it feel surveying the damage, death, chaos, and destruction left by Katrina, knowing that you had cut the funding to reinforce the levees of New Orleans, in order to fund the war in Iraq? A levee upgrade that would have spared the city of most of the damage would only cost about 2.5 billion dollars. You are spending 100 billion a year in Iraq. Was it really worth it to ignore the desperate pleas of New Orleans officials and put the city in harms way for 2.5 billion dollars? Your 1% tax break for the wealthiest people of this nation alone would have netted 37 billion dollars. I realize of course that you didn't foresee Katrina, you couldn't have known she was coming, just as you didn't foresee the Iraq war taking more that a few weeks and a handful of troops. I mean that must be the reason you chose to ignore the advice of the most knowledgeable people in Washington who told you that the war in Iraq would not be the cake walk Rumsfeld was telling you it would be... But it was necessary after all wasn't it? We had to go and get those Weapons of Mass destruction. You know, the ones that Saddam Hussein said he didn't have and the U.N. inspectors found no evidence of. But never you mind about that. We all know he would of had 'em if he could've.
I saw you talking to a woman who was telling you she had "lost everything." You responded, " I understand!" Really Mr. President? Really? I was very surprised to hear that. I hadn't realized that you had ever experienced the loss of everything. I mean, I am a single mother who has been living on an excruciatingly low income for many years now. Even I don't understand what it feels like to lose everything. Nor do I understand what it feels like to be hungry for more than a day or two, to give birth under a viaduct and watch my twin babies die, or to ride out a storm in a superdome fearing that the roof would be torn to shreds at any moment. And I don't know at all what it feels like to go thirsty for more than even a few minutes. I have lost loved ones, but not in a matter of seconds, and never because I was too impoverished to get them out of harms way.
We are paying outrageous prices at the gas pump Mr. President. They were already high because of the war, but as I said, I know you never expected the war to take so very long, (even though you had been told otherwise by the advisors you fired). And now, because of the oil refineries that are shut down because of Katrina, our gas prices are soaring even higher. But I know that you didn't expect Katrina either. (even though you had been warned about the effects of a hurricane of her magnitude by New Orleans officials) My friend has to ride his bike to work everyday now because he can't afford the gas prices. Do you understand about that as well? I know your family is oil rich, and you must feel the effects of the rising oil prices, although I guess in a much different way than the average American citizen who doesn't actually own the oil.
It's too bad it took so long to get the National Guard into New Orleans. They are spread so very thin with so many of them in Iraq. From what I understand they are dying in disproportionate numbers due to the fact that the National Guard was never intended to serve in combat overseas and is ill trained and ill equipped to do so. But again...you never foresaw it coming to this.
I am praying for you Mr. President. You have a real mess on your hands. I guess even the most powerful man in the world has his limits of control.
Sincerely,
Angevoix

P.S. I am a Christian, and even though many of my Christian friends and family said you were the ONLY choice for a Christian because of your stand on abortion and Gay rights, I didn't vote for you. Can you tell me, Mr. President, what progress you have actually made on those two issues?

Friday, September 02, 2005

“Only the dead are lower on the list to be helped than the prisoners.”
—Ron Dinnocenzo, PF Field Director, Louisiana.


Looking for a way to contribute to the relief effort
for the hurricane victims?
You can through Prison Fellowship Ministries at

http://www.pfm.org



Dear Dr. King II

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Dear Dr. King,
I am an Asian boy and I like to read the news. But every time I look, it's one religion making war with another religion. There's "holy ground" filled with land mines and missile silos. The world is torn apart by prejudice that may lead to World War. Even in the United States, the land of the free, there is hate and segregation. If we had multiple ministers of peace like you the world would be a lot better place. I hope the world doesn't fall apart and instead joins hands in peaceful unity.
We're all hopeful,
John, age 11

Excerpt from "Dear Dr. King Letters from Today's Children to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr."

Thursday, September 01, 2005

No Ways Tired

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"Despite the challenges presented by the widespread trivialization and dilution of the Christian Gospel, I remain committed to its fundamental claim: To follow Jesus [or to agree, even as an atheist, with the ethics of the Gospels,] is to love your way through the darkness of the world. This love appears absurd -- in fact pure folly in the face of much of the world’s misery -- and yet it yields indescribable levels of sorrow and joy, sadness and ecstasy. To be a Christian is to look at the world through the lens of the cross and thereby to keep one’s focus on human suffering and struggle."

The Cornel West Reader, p. 355

The Reason

"I see by the way you have expressed so much sympathy for those in your community that you have a heart for the poor and the those too ignorant to find their way in this complex world we live in. I admire your testimony as to the many services you are involved in.
However I am a little perplexed as to how it is you are so dedicated to so many noble efforts and still have so much time to articulate such a plethora of liberalism on so many issues.
Your hyperbolical positions are amusing and sometimes downright laughable.
I hope you continue to pour forth your tirade, since most often those of such a bent as yours shade their attacks with some little nuance of logic. But you are a stereotypical transparent democrat whose emotional ideological mores have consumed their intellectual foundations.
Again I'm sure you're so busy serving the poor and beggarly elements of your community that you will in all probability not even have time to respond to this comment.
Furthermore, I'm sure your ego will not allow this comment to be posted for it would bring into question the viability of your honesty, and reveal the real you."

Dr. Durt

No, Dr. Durt, You couldn't be more wrong. You're very articulate and have an exceptional vocabulary, and I am so grateful for your post. You see one of the problems that I face and one of the reasons that I post is that there are so many people who no longer believe that racism exist, nor that there is a need for a prophetic voice to cry out about the injustices of our society, and the callousness of our behavior towards those that you describe as "beggarly" and "Too ignorant to find their way in this complex world." You have proven my point for me better than I could have ever hoped to.
Peace to you,
Angevoix

Dear Dr. King...

The following is an excerpt from the book "Dear Dr. King, Letters From Today's Children to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr."

Dear Dr. King, Maybe if you were here today you would be happy,
Maybe not. There is no segregation,
but there is racism and hate.
I must live with much racism in my family,
my neighborhood,
and our world. I cannot
understand why people
cannot let go of their weapons and, instead
hold each other's hands.
You had a dream that turned into a nightmare
and you lost your life.
Sincerely,
Hailey, age 11

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

I Didn't Understand

As many of you know who read my blog regularly, I am a White single mother living and working in the African American community on the south side of Chicago. I have lived here for 6 years. I moved here when I began to attend church at St. Sabina. I am a firm believer in living in the community you choose to minister in, in order to gain a deeper understanding of the needs of those who live there. I couldn't have been more correct on that score.
You see, before I lived here, I would ask myself, "Why do Black people seem so angry?" I would hear about looting and riots, I would watch Spike Lee throw garbage cans through windows and just shake my head. I just couldn't understand....
But then I moved to my community where I had to go for miles for decent groceries, or anything else for that matter. Where I couldn't get DSL for years after everyone else in the city had it, where they wouldn't deliver my pizza, and where the condescension of the police was outrageous. I saw the difference between the pristine schools of the suburbs and the inner city schools of my neighborhood where sewage leaked out of the walls.
My sons were stopped by two white female police officers who wanted to know what two "White boys" were doing walking down the street in this community. They used the term Negro in a menacing tone over and over that made it clear what they really meant. My boys tried to walk away from the car but were repeatedly commanded to return to the vehicle so that they could be forcibly subjected to further harassment and racist jokes , such as "What do you get when you cross and negro and a gorilla?" I saw my pastor , and other leaders of my community ridiculed and caricatured by the media... Their valid concerns ignored...
I felt my anger build. It was the anger of an unheard voice, crying in distress. It felt like falling backwards down a well, after being pushed. It was the anger of having your deepest wounds summarily dismissed as childish, irrelevant, exaggerated... It was the anger of having been slapped in the face, only to be blamed for wearing the bruise.
I would never presume to understand fully what it feels like to be Black in America, but I can state I understand a little better now...

***Whew*** Time for some more art...

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Jacob Wrestling with the Angel
Marc Chagall

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

C is for Courage

Let's try it again --
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"I heard him speak in person only once, when I was ten years old (1963), and I remember not his words, but his humble spirit and sense of urgency."

Cornel West on Dr. Martinin Luther King Jr.
I'm back at work now. School started last week. I have to admit after so much time off, I have been having a little trouble adjusting... the one thing I don't like is when I feel my alone time with God suffers. As I was preparing for work this morning I thought about it and what I can do to make adjustments to make sure my time with God isn't what suffers in my daily schedule. This may sound a little silly, but I am in the habit of going to God for ideas especially in such circumstances. I asked Him what I could do. His response...
"Its not about what I want you to do, its about what I want you to be...
hmmmmmmmmm.
I'll let you ponder that one for yourselves.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Hurricane

Okay --- so I'm listening to Good Morning America as I get ready for work, and I'm hearing about how the people who "couldn't afford" to evacuate New Orleans were all herded into the super dome. I'm looking at all of the faces and noticing that they just so happen to be people of color and I'm hearing the reports about how they are wondering if the roof will hold, how they had to usher the people out of their seats and down into the end zone where it would be "safer" and how there is a waterfall coming through the roof and I am just getting mad as hell. My God. Well at least it is official. Poor people's lives are not worth *&^% in this country. God forbid we should have the national guard do what they are supposed to do and get those ten thousand people out of there. Oh yeah...how could I forget? They are all in Iraq dying for their commander in chief.

CW for President

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"To be an American is to raise perennially the frightening question: What does public interest have to do with the most vulnerable and disadvantaged in our society?"

Sunday, August 28, 2005

CW Quote # 3

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"I am a Chekhovian Christian who banks his all on radical - not rational - choice and on the courage to love enacted by a particular Palestinian Jew named Jesus, who was crucified by the powers that be, betrayed by cowardly comrades and misconstrued by corrupt churches that persist, and yet is remembered by those of us terrified and mesmerized by the impossible possibility of His love."

Saturday, August 27, 2005

LINKS!!!!!!!

Well, I finally did it. I managed all by my little old self to add links to my blog. If you're not on there yet, either take heart, or heed the warning, you probably soon will be. The group listed is quite an eclectic bunch, I must say. There are varying levels of profanity. There are Orthodox Christians, Baptist, Catholics, Charismatics and Catholic Charismatics. There are staunch Republicans and ardent Democrats, and those who give succor to both. We fight. We argue. We weep, wail and gnash our teeth... but hey, what's a party without a few fireworks...

CW - quote number 2

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"...To give in to sophomoric relativism ("Anything goes" or "All views are equally valid") is a failure of nerve, and to succumb to wholesale skepticism ("There is no truth") is a weakness of the will and the imagination."

In Search of Evidence

I love the Bible.
Not just because it is the Word of God. Not just because it is alive, a two edge sword with which we find guidance, correction, encouragement, etc... But I love it because it is just so dead honest. Whenever God inspired the writers of the scriptures, for whatever reason, He inspired them to write the whole truth and nothing but the truth. So now, when we read the Bible we not only read that David, the shepherd boy became the victorious king, we also read that he committed adultery and murder. We not only read that Solomon was the wisest man who ever lived, but we also read that in his later years he was led astray into idolatry. We read about Noah's faithfulness during the flood...Only to read about his drunken nakedness after the fact...oops. We read about a bold John the Baptist declaring Jesus to be "The Lamb of God." Then we hear about the imprisoned John the Baptist, sending the timid message to Jesus, " Are you the one?" We read about victories, miracles, faithfulness, and obedience. And we also read about rebellion, incestuous rape, murder and mutilation, betrayal lies and theft. And it isn't as if we are talking about two distinctly separate groups of people here... No, I'm afraid not...these were all the children of Israel. Oh my.... The Bible is dead honest, even when it seems as if it is counterproductive to be so.
One of the things I have learned, especially in my sojourns to the Oriental Institute is that the Kings of Old weren't always exactly as forthright about their failures as they were their victories...in fact many times, they outright lied. And with no press corp to confirm or deny the facts... there wasn't really anything stopping them. But the Bible has a tell all style that rivals that of Kitty Kelly. We get all the sordid details of all the Biblical royals. We hear about daughters being offered up for rape, a concubine cut to pieces and sent out express mail, Peter's denial, and Paul's fallout with Barnabas... Who needs to watch soap operas?!? The Spirit of Truth apparently doesn't get days off. In fact the dead human honesty of the Bible might be the best defense of its authenticity yet.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Cornel West Quote of the Day

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"I remain a Christian
- primarily because the concrete example of love and compassion of Jesus
rendered in the Biblical Gospel narratives
constitutes the most absurd and alluring
mode of being
in the
tragicomic world."

What Color is Jesus? II

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I published my prior post asking about the race of Jesus, because I was very curious about what kind of responses I would get. They were really good, I thought.... but I have been pondering this issue for a little while, because I live in a community where the question of race always seems to be at the forefront. The above picture is now a famous mural that was commisioned by our church. Now its famous, but when it was first painted, it was infamous... there was a tremendous amount of controversy, pastors visited my pastor, in mass, and demanded he take our Black Jesus down... A tribute to our pastors tenacity, it hangs behind the altar still.
Whatever our opinions about the race of Jesus, I really don't see it as a problem unless it really matters to you. After all, even Jesus held His treasure in an earthen vessel...

Persepolis 1 & 2

This is page one of Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi. It is the autobiographical story of a child in Iran just trying her best to grow up. I highly recommend this book to everyone. It is a beautiful read. Don't let the unique format fool you. It can be deeply touching and heart wrenching. She also wrote a sequal Persepolis 2, which I find to be as equally appealing. It certainly gives the "enemy" a very human face...
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Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Beautiful Death

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Aren't they pretty? For those of you who like me, lived very sheltered lives, and have no idea what these are, they are drug pipes. It is illegal to sell these in the retale market in the U.S., but many times stores get away with it by posting a sign that states, "For Tobacco use Only."
And who is one of the biggest manufacturers of these pipes, you might wonder? None other than Corningware. Yep, that's right. Corningware, the manufacturer of the quality casserrole dishes that have been featured at countless church pot lucks for decades...

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

What I Did on my Summer Vacation.



Priest Charges Business Sells Drug Kits



Father Pfleger Led Activists Into Woodlawn Business

(CBS) CHICAGO Community activists and police stormed a South Side business Tuesday, busting it for allegedly selling illegal drug kits.

Saying enough is enough, outspoken community activist Father Pfleger led a small army of activists into a Woodlawn business.

As CBS 2's Mike Parker reports, the group demanded the store owner clean up his act.

It is a kit for smoking crack. It’s called a "hookup" and according to South Side priest Michael Pfleger, kits like that were being sold for $2 inside a Woodlawn neighborhood convenience store.

"You recognize this sir? You sell these here. We bought these twice in the last week," Pfleger said.

On Tuesday, Pfleger and 40 supporters went into the store and challenged the man behind the counter.

"Now you either empty them out or we're shutting down your store right now. Sir, when the police get here we're going to press charges. You can either work with us or you can go to jail. You make up your mind," Pfleger said.

Chicago police came to the store and quickly arrested the clerk on misdemeanor charges based on Pfleger's complaint. Although police say they found no evidence themselves, the clerk was led away in handcuffs.

There was praise for Pfleger's action.

"He does a beautiful job in the community. He fights for everybody," said resident Louis Kenniel.

"This is about protecting our children and providing a quality of life in the neighborhoods," said State Sen. Jacqueline Collins (D-16).

But others in the crowd outside jeered what was going on.

"We'll always have hecklers that say leave them alone, they're all right. This stuff is killing our kids," Pfleger said.

Pfleger says the state drug paraphernalia law, with its misdemeanor charges, is not tough enough. He wants a new city ordinance that would close down businesses that peddle the items.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Taboooooooo

Enough of politics...
Let's fight about religion!

What color was Jesus?
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