Film, Religion and Dogma

When considering whether film is truly a religion, it seems appropriate to begin by defining religion itself. If one simply consults a standard dictionary, religion can be defined as “the service and worship of God or the supernatural.”[1] While workable, this explanation is rather limited. In Religion as Faith, John C. Lyden discusses the historical attempts to define religion including Friedrich Schleiermacher’s that religion is “’the feeling of absolute dependence’ on that which the Christian calls God so that ‘to feel oneself absolutely dependent and to be conscious of being in relationship with God are one and the same thing.’”[2] Lyden goes on to detail Rudolph Otto’s assertion that “religion is the feeling that arises when we encounter the ‘holy’ or ‘numinous,’ that which transcends us so totally that it inspires a mixture of fascination and fear.”[3]

These definitions which stem from nineteenth and twentieth century theology influenced scholars such as Mircea Eliade who “defined religion by its relation to ‘the sacred’ in distinction from ‘the profane’.” Perhaps the most influential modern definition came from Paul Tillich who “defined religion as ‘ultimate concern,’ meaning that each of us has something that receives our highest devotion and from which we expect fulfillment. It demands the total surrender of all other concerns to it as the primary concern of our being.”[4] Furthermore, Tillich felt that when we give our devotion to that which is nonultimate, finite or nontranscendent, we will become disappointed.

In considering film as a religion, Lyden seems unconcerned with the numinous or sacred as a part of his definition. Although I understand the merit of approaching the discussion of film and faith as an interreligious dialog, I find Lyden’s definition to be lacking some of the strength of Schleiermacher and Tillich. The idea that we are drawn to devote ourselves to that which is of ultimate concern resonates very deeply in me. In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."[5] In my experience, when we yoke ourselves to the nonultimate we are sorely disappointed. If one accepts the notion of film as religion, I am convinced that this particular religion will not give us the peace and joy that comes from faith in Jesus Christ.

In contrast to Lyden’s proposition of film as religion, in her book, Seeing is Believing, Margaret Miles states that “what films do best… is to articulate the anxieties of a changing society. In films, the competing issues of society intersect and can be formulated for consideration, for understanding, and for negotiation of meaning.” [6] I find her notion that films “help Americans consider the ancient and perennial question of human life. How should we live?” much more palatable than Lyden’s idea of “film as religion”.

When considering whether I am a greater fan of Miles or Lyden, I felt much more in tune with Miles. As a proof text for this, I offer Kevin Smith’s film “Dogma”. For those who couldn’t tolerate the language or graphic violence, “Dogma” is the story of what happens when two fallen angels are clued into a loophole which will allow them to reenter heaven. Charged with stopping Loki and Bartleby from inadvertently destroying all of creation is Bethany, the last Scion, Jesus’ great-great-great…. grand niece.

When it was released, “Dogma” attracted a lot of negative attention, particularly from the Roman Catholic Church and conservative Christians. I, on the other hand, found it to be incredibly insightful. (And terribly funny!) Writer Kevin Smith, who also plays one of the “prophets” Silent Bob, wrote a screenplay that demonstrates a keen insight into many of the frustrations and confusions that Christians experience. This is not the stuff that one can base a system of faith upon, but it does give us food for thought when considering, how should we live

+ + + +

LIZ: That kills me. You and church. We work in a field that specializes in pissing off the cloth and you add insult to injury by breaking bread with them every week.

BETHANY: I sit there every Sunday and I feel nothing. I can remember sitting in
church when I was a kid and being moved - like everything meant something, like I was important. And the stories of all these holy people were so inspiring. Now I sit there and think about my checking account, and what I'm going to wear to work the next day.[7]

+ + + +

SERENDIPITY: I have issues with anyone who treats faith as a burden instead of a blessing. You people don't celebrate your faith; you mourn it.[8]

+ + + +

SERENDIPITY: When are you people going to learn? It's not about who's right or wrong. No denominations nailed it yet, and they never will because they're all too self-righteous to realize that it doesn't matter what you have faith in, just that you have faith. Your hearts are in the right place, but your brains need to wake up.[9]

+ + + +

BETHANY: You're saying that having beliefs is a bad thing?
RUFUS: I think it's better to have ideas. You can change an idea. Changing a belief is trickier.[10]




[1] Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary. Http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/religion. Accessed September 17, 2009.
[2] John C. Lyden, Film as Religion, (New York: New York University Press, 2003). p.37
[3] Ibid
[4] Ibid, p. 38
[5] Matthew 11:28-30
[6] Margaret R. Miles, Seeing is Believing, (Boston: Beacon Press, 1996) p. 193
[7] Dogma, Director and Writer: Kevin Smith, Performers: Linda Fiorentino, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Jason Lee. View Askew Productions, 1999.
[8] Ibid
[9] Ibid
[10] Ibid

Remembering Grandpa Olsen

I received this as an email from my uncle, Rev. Will Olsen. (He's the young man in the suit. My mother is the eldest girl.) It is a reflection on my grandfather and his family. A wonderful gift of memories on this Memorial Day.

As I drove into Rapid City on an errand today, PBS was on the car radio. They were reading a large quantity of e-mail messages for Memorial Day. Most of them began with something like, “I want to honor [or remember] my Father, Brother, Uncle, etc., etc. for his service during ________ [fill in the war].

I began to think about a man who would not make that program. He never served a day in any of the Armed Forces or fought in any of our wars. Not that he did not try. Before WW2 began, Stan Olsen had tried to get into a couple of the Depression created government programs and was turned down. As the war clouds loomed every closer and every adult male was required to register for the draft, he complied with the order. The US Government, in the person of his local Draft Board, declared Stan Olsen to be deferred from the draft because of his critical job. Telegraphers were in short supply. There weren’t enough to go around and they were badly needed on the home front to keep the trains moving.

After we moved to Watertown, he helped insure that the grain products and meat products moved smoothly from processor to user. There was an Army Air Corps station at the airport. Food and fuel, supplies and men all came to town by rail and he helped insure their safe and timely delivery to that important installation.

I remember how impressed I was with his importance when Dad was told by the Depot Agent and the Division’s Dispatcher [or Roadmaster or someone] that he had to get a phone installed at home so he could be called to work at any hour of the day. When Mom or Dad applied to Bell [the only game in town at that time], they were almost laughed at. “There’s a war on, you know,” was the response their request received. Dad reported his lack of success to the Huron office. Apparently they made the call to the phone company. Within the week, a man was at the house, asking Mom where she wanted the phone put. Dad wanted a wall phone so none of us could talk and sit at the same time. He reminded us that the phone was for emergencies, not for our pleasure. Oh, yes, on top of it all, we had a one-party line. No one would rubber-neck on railroad business or learn about the time of troop trains off that phone.

So, Dad did not go to war, but we saved scrap iron, bacon grease and who knows what all. Dad could have had a business allowance for gas at one time. He elected to pass it up as he felt with careful use of the car we could get by with just an “A” sticker in the windshield. The whole family was enlisted to be faithful citizens in all we did, including the huge garden that he convinced his wife that she should preserve.

So, I believe it is fair to honor and remember a loyal citizen who was told to stay home and do his job well. It would be the best way he could serve and win the war. This does not mean that he did not recognize the value and honor of military service. Both of his sons enlisted in time to serve in the Korean War. Two sons-in-law have worn uniforms. By my count, half his grandsons [Dennis and Per] have served honorably. In the next generation, Dennis and Adam are the only two I know have answered the call to service. It’s a bit interesting that with all the girls in the family, I don’t know of any that have “joined up” [as they used to say].

So, as you reflect on the meaning of Memorial Day, I hope you can look back with renewed appreciation for those that did not earn medals and battle stars, but made it possible for those that did to win. As a final word, I would invite you to save and/or share this with your kids and grandkids. Print it and save it somewhere for their scrap books about this ancestor who advance the cause of freedom by staying out of the fight, but giving all he could.

Peace be with you!
Will/Ole/Butch

Memorial day memories

When I was growing up, my parents decided that we should all wear POW-MIA bracelets in support of those who were captured during the Viet Nam War. My two sisters and I were in grade school. I must have been about ten when I received my bracelet. I wore it every day and night. The metal plating wore off the inside of the bracelet after a few years. I remember coating the inside of it with maroon fingernail polish so that it wouldn't turn my wrist green.

I wore the bracelet beyond the end of the war and the return of the prisoners. My bracelet bore the name of Commander James Griffin. He did not return from Viet Nam. His plane was shot down over Hanoi and he was taken prisoner. A few days later he died.

When the bracelet broke in half, I had to stop wearing it. But I remember.

The following comes from a web posting made by his wife.

Commander James Lloyd Griffin

Born in Gates, Tennessee, 27 December 1932,

He attended the University ofTennessee at Martin before entering the U.S. Naval Adacemy. Upon graduation from the academy in 1955 he entered flight training in Pensacola, FL and got his wings in 1956. He attended the U.S. Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, CA and received a professional degree in aeronautical engineering from University of Michigan in 1963. He served in VA-83, deploying to the Mediterranean and flying missions in Lebanon in 1958 aboard the aircraft carrier USS Essex and in 1959-60 aboard USS Forrestal. He joined RVAH-13 in 1964, servinge in Vietnam on two cruises from 1965-1967. In April of 1967 Commander Griffin had completed 100 combat missions; his plane was shot down over Hanoi on May 19, 1967--HoChi Minh's birthday. Commander Griffin's awards included the Distinguished Flying Cross with gold star; the Air Medal with bronze Star (eight awards); the Naval Commendation Medal with gold star and combat distinguishing device; the Navy Achievement Medal; the Purple Heart; Navy Unit Commendation Medal with bronze star; Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation (Gallantry Cross Medal Colorwith Palm); Vietnam Service Medal with three bronze stars; and the Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal.

On the day of his "shoot-down" a radio broadcast from Hanoi announced that Commander Griffin and his navigator had been captured, and, although gravely injured, he read a statement which was broadcast. A photo of his military ID card was displayed in a museum in Hanoi. He was carried in a "missing inaction" status until January, 1973, when his death on May 21, 1967 was revealed by the North Vietnamese. On January 16, 1974 the Secretary of the Navy verified that Commander Griffin had died while a prisoner of war. A plaque marking the event of his "shoot down" stands on the corner of a building in downtown Hanoi. Survivors include his wife Dora, his son James, and his daughter Glyn Carol Griffin, his parents, two brothers and a sister.

Beginnings and endings

Yesterday was commencement at the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. This year's MDiv graduates started their studies the same year I started working at LTSP. It was wonderful to see them complete their degrees, but I will miss them!

Every year at a seminary brings a new group of students. Young ones. Older ones. People with stories and dreams. Wishes and fears. When summer comes the campus gets quiet and I wait for them all to come back in the fall. It is starting to get quieter at school...

Seeing a class from start to finish has been a wonderful thing, but let me say one more time, I will miss them.

Perimenopause - the things they didn't tell us in fourth grade

Okay I am now officially complaining! And yes, it's personal! They have all kinds of ads and info and comedy about menopause, but why isn't there more public info about perimenopause? I'll tell you why! It's because it's perhaps a bigger nuisance than when you first started getting your period. So, here's the rant and the 411. The signs of perimenopause include:

• Hot flashes - they're just what they sound like. And when they happen at night- night sweats. Oh! And they're also a part of menopause. So the fun just continues. Nothing like wondering "What, oh what, should I wear to bed at night? I'm cold. It's winter, but come 3:00am it may feel like I'm sleeping in a sauna!"


• Breast tenderness - Why does every life transition include this one? Puberty, pregnancy, pms, etc.


• Worsening of premenstrual syndrome - like the other symptoms weren't enough to make you cranky. Cramps like you had when you were first starting out.


• Decreased libido - Lots of women in this age group have teenagers... You know, those people who say, "Not my mom and dad!"'


• Fatigue - see the note on breast tenderness.
  
• Irregular periods - this does not necessarily mean less often. It may mean twice as often! How is that fair?


• Urine leakage - If you didn't learn to cross your legs when you sneezed during pregnancy, now is the time to start!


• Mood swings - No kidding!


• Difficulty sleeping - You have cramps, you're cranky, you think you might pee in your pants and you can't regulate your body temperature- yeah, you're going to have trouble sleeping!

Okay, I feel better now. I think I'll go have some chocolate, even though "they" say that I shouldn't!

She-Words

She took

She found

She entered

She did

She wondered

She bowed

She remembered

She came back

She told

She-Word exercise as described at http://revgalblogpals.blogspot.com/

Mary Magdalene in Luke's account of the Resurrection.

Artwork from Mozambique.

Soda Chicky is 16!

At about 8:35am this morning, my girl officially turned 16! She is very excited. Not about driving, but about the milepost in her life. Also, very excited to know what her parents got her for a present. And then there's the party on Friday. It's a little different. A 1970 theme party being held in the church hall. (It's a lot bigger than our living room.) We're having fondue, listening to old music, tie dying. It should be very interesting.

Tonight the BugMan is bowling for the opportunity to be the first place team in his league. As a result, he is unable to go out to dinner tonight. The Chick insisted we go out TONIGHT! So we are going along with Pseudo Baby and his mom. Ack! Bug Man is home. Gotta go watch her unwrap the present.

To grieve or not to grieve

This week the longtime Phillies' announcer Harry Kalas passed away. In part because I've only lived in Philly for 4 years and in part because I haven't been a big fan of the Phillies, I found myself on the outside looking in. I get it, but I don't get it.

It's that way with a lot of things. An event becomes important because you care about the people involved. If you don't know the people, if they haven't been a part of your life, the event becomes less newsworthy in your estimation. I'm not trying to be coldhearted about this whole matter, but it's interesting how I find myself clicking away from the coverage of this whole issue.

My mother threatened to move to Canada if Obama lost the election. I think she was less than serious, but her passion about the issue on election night was electric. Is there something wrong with me that I didn't think about packing up my own bags?

When Princess Diana was killed, I watched the developing news coverage that early morning mostly because I had an awful headache and insomnia. Maybe I am cold hearted. Or maybe it's something else. I suspect it is something else.

And you?

Friday Five: What's Cooking?

This week's Friday Five on the RevGalBlogPals relates to the kitchen. I love kitchens!

1. What is the one appliance you simply couldn't be without? It would have to be the frig. When I was fifteen our family moved cross country and beat the furniture to the new house by a week. We had no frig. So a cooler with ice sat where the frig would one day be plugged in. I missed the frig even then. After all, where else can you keep the ice cream?

2. What if anything would you happily give up? Not much! Love the dishwasher. Love the garbage disposal. The rice cooker is a fave! And although I remember the days before microwaves, it sure makes life easier.

3. What is the most strange household appliance you own? Most strange might be the little electric sauce pot that stirred itself. It was strange but you could make great chili con queso in it. There was some mourning when it died.

4. What is the most luxurious household appliance you own? There are not a lot of luxurious appliances at our house. My dad however has an electric potato peeler. Does a good job on the veggies and you can't cut yourself with it.

5. Tell us about your dream kitchen- the sky is the limit here.... Well, it's in a house we own, not rent. And it's big! It has a gas stove that self cleans. It does not allow the smell of fried onions to permeate into the rest of the house. You can sit down and hang out in the dream kitchen. It has two dishwashers, a huge freezer, and a maid to clean up when I'm done cooking!

What's happening now?

Once again, it has been a long while since my last blog entry. I think Facebook is responsible for much this state of affairs. Another reason is that life has been complicated. For four years I served as the Manager of the Augsburg Fortress store in Philadelphia. It has been a wonderful calling. Almost hard to describe. In November, AF announced that it would be closing its stores. For several weeks I was unsure of where I would be going next. I wasn't ready to leave the seminary community that I have come to love, but what did God have planned? I am glad to say that the Lutheran Theological Seminary has invited me to stay on as the manager of their new campus bookstore. The process has often brought up the question, "How hard to I want to work for the next year?"

This week my friend Wil Gafney, Hebrew and OT prof at LTSP is off to the RevGalBlogPals' BE 2.0. I had so hoped to be along for the ride, but the changes at work have kept me here. I do hope she is enjoying her adventure. In the meantime, I have to settle for looking at pictures and getting greetings via Wil's Iphone.

Christmas Eve Memories

Last night I was delighted to be a part of a Christmas Eve service for children. And in the planning, I wanted very much for the children to be the worship leaders. The expectation was that they be cute and costumed. There should be the telling of the Christmas story and we should sing some of the top Christmas carols. Beyond that, I had lots of freedom.

I have been a part of other church staffs where we basically did away with the Christmas pageant. All too often, these things degrade into the kids being bored or disinterested. Grown ups get stressed. Rehearsals are scheduled in the midst of already swamped schedules and it just gets crazy.

Last night was fairly low stress and not too crazy. We had a service of lessons and carols with the kids participating in a "living nativity" as a part of the readings. Two brave boys, one in second grade and one in fifth, read the narratives from Luke and Matthew. Two other second graders led the congregation in the offertory and responsive prayers. They did a wonderful job!

The living nativity went well, with unexpected moments that warmed my heart.

When the shepherds came forward, rather than kneeling or sitting decoratively facing the congregation, they just stood and looked at the baby. (A real baby that it is! Female, doe-eyed and lovely.) They had to be reminded to sit down. I thought they got it just right! They were there to see the baby, not have their picture taken.

At one point, I looked over to see Mary with her headdress a little askew looking tenderly down at the baby. The baby who is old enough to smile was beaming right back at our third grade Mary. I was so glad to be up on the chancel platform to see that moment. I won't forget it any time soon.

The angels, who are both four year old girls, greeted the shepherds and were then to return to the choir area which is also in the chancel area. But they couldn't keep still. They kept leaning over the rail so they could get a look at the baby. They were so excited.

Despite an abundance of cameras in the congregation, the children for the most part were focused on what they were doing. They didn't pose. There was only one or two quick waves. They caught on to what was happening. It wasn't a pageant, it was worship. Thanks and credit be to God.

Christmas To Do List - Friday Five

With a flair for simplicity, SongBird challenged us all to list five things we have to get done before Christmas:

1. Get my haircut. Haven't looked respectable in weeks. That's the trouble with short hair!


2. Buy three dozen small brass bells for the children's sermon on Christmas Eve.


3. Come up with a plan B if number 2 doesn't get done.


4. Finally decide if we are putting up the tree or not. The problem is: our current home has very, very short ceilings. Our old home did not. Is it worth dragging the big old box upstairs only to find that it doesn't work? Plus there would need to be major furniture moving or we block the front door with the tree. I'm voting for a different motif!


5. Make sure everyone is okay with the children's program for Christmas Eve. When last I checked there was a major kerfuffle about to brew regarding whether or not we should have a live baby Jesus. And if we do, who should play the baby? Does the baby have to be a member of the congregation? Does it have to be the baby born closest to Christmas? If the baby is being baptized in January, do they count as a member? We may just use a baby doll. Done! Baby Jesus will be played by a young lady whose parents are members as is her great-grandma. Many photo ops!

Great lines from my favorite movies

This bit of silliness came from a friend on Facebook. The rules are simple.

1. Pick your 15 favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDB.com and pick a great line from each one and post it.
3. Players are not allowed to go and look up your favorite films or google or go to IMDB to get the answers.
4. Players post their guesses.
5. Correct answers with the the name of the guesser will be posted.

So here they are! Fifteen great bits of movie dialog.

One
Woman: It's going to be a long night.
Man: True.
Woman: And I don't particularly like the book I've started.
Man: Ah.
Woman: You know what I mean?
Man: let me think. Yes, I know exactly what you mean.

Two
How dare he make love to me and not be a married man.

Three
Man: Wow, when you come on, you come on, don't you?
Woman: Oh, come on!

Four
…. was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning; ladies bathed before noon, after their 3 o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum.

Five
Here's one I've been pondering: How do I talk to Isabelle?

Six
Speaker 1: Were they sent to Hell?
Speaker 2: Worse. Wisconsin. For the entire span of human history.

Seven
Speaker 1: You think I'm nuts, don't you? They wanted to ask me about older women.
Two: Why?
One: Because they wanted to have sex with them.
Three: Where?
One: Here! Right here in Nelson. They wanted to start a colony of supermen who would have sex with older women because they said, and I quote, "they really know what they're doing."
Four: We do!
Two: It's been so long!
Three: Oh, girls, girls! Do you actually believe that there are creatures from outer space who want to have sex with older women?

Eight
Man: How do you say in French my sister has a yellow pencil?
Woman: Ma soeur a un crayon jaune.
Man: How do you say my brother has a lovely girl?
Woman: Mon frere a une gentille petite amie.
Man: And how do you say I wish I were my brother?

Nine
Jerry: Now you've done it! Now you have done it!
Joe: Done what?
Jerry: You tore off one of my chests!

Ten
Man: Apes don't read philosophy.
Woman: Yes they do. They just don't understand it. Now let me correct you on a couple of things, OK? Aristotle was not Belgian. The central message of Buddhism is not "Every man for himself." And the London Underground is not a political movement. Those are all mistakes, Otto. I looked them up.

Eleven
Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy night!

Twelve
Despite the fact that you're one large pain in the arse last night was the best thing that ever happened to me, girl wise, and if you weren't behaving like such a horses rectum you would know that we could be inside touching and fondling all day long until I've got to go to rehearsal. Personally madam, I think you blew it.

Thirteen
Woman: You don't dare go!

Man: Say that again at noon, you'll say it to my horse's ass! Lamb, I'll be rid of you by Easter: you can count your reign in days!

Fourteen
A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the brightness blinded her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness, and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father, the King, always knew that the Princess' soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place, at another time. And he would wait for her, until he drew his last breath, until the world stopped turning...

Fifteen
Well, sir, here we are again. We've had quite a time of it lately, but it seems that the worst of it is over. Course, the fireworks all blew up, but we can't very well blame that on you. Anyway, everything's turned out fine, as it usually does. Alice is going to marry Tony; Mr. Kirby, who's turned out to be a very good egg, sold us back our house - he'll probably forget all about big deals for a while. Nobody on our block has to move; and, with the right handling, I think we can even thaw out Mrs. Kirby here. We've all got our health; as far as anything else is concerned, we still leave that up to you. Thank you. Bring it on, Reba!

Elizabeth's Shout for Joy!

I was just a girl when I married. So young and full of dreams of what the future might bring. We were just children when Zechariah and I were promised to each other. My mother was so pleased. Her daughter Elizabeth would be the wife of a priest. Her grandchildren would be in the line of Abijah- the family of priests.

When the time came for our wedding- I was ready to be Zechariah’s wife. My mother had carefully taught me the Torah. Together we had sewn the linens I would need to keep a household. My brothers had built me furniture for my new home, including a cradle for the children they knew I would soon have.

But there were no babies. My friends, my sister, my cousins- each one blossomed with new life. But I was barren. No babies to cuddle. No toddlers to laugh with and play with. No daughters to teach. No sons to follow in their father’s footsteps.

Zechariah is a kind and faithful man. He didn’t point a finger of blame. He has told me again and again how much he cherishes our life together. He has held me when I have cried. He has promised that even if he had known there would be no children- still he would have married me.

But I know that he too has grieved the lack of children in our lives.

It is hard to be a woman without children. Our friends and family are understanding. But there was a time, when we were younger, when Zechariah was advised by well meaning friends to divorce me. To put me aside because of my barrenness.

I have heard the whispers over the years. “Poor Elizabeth,” they say. “What could she have done to have the Lord treat her this way?” I have seen the sympathetic looks. People looking at me or glancing at Zechariah. “Poor man, they say. He could have had a large and happy family, if not for her. She’s barren, you know.”

It wears on a person. You never get used to it. It’s exhausting.
We prayed for a child. But the answer was always, “No.”

And then things changed.

On a very ordinary day- a Sabbath- much like any other, Zechariah was serving at the temple. It was his turn to burn the incense that morning. He entered the temple, while we waited outside. And we waited for a very long time! It was strange. I wondered if something had gone wrong. After all, Zechariah wasn’t a young man any more.

When he came out, he could say nothing. But that wasn’t the thing that was most noticeable about him. He had an aura about him. There was a change about him. And I knew at once that something grand had happened to him. Something holy.

When we got home, Zechariah shared with me what had happened to him. He drew pictures and wrote words. The Lord had promised to give us a child. And not just any child, but one who would be a messenger- a prophet of the Lord.
And because of John, the angel said, parents will be more thoughtful of their children. And people who now disobey God will begin to think as they ought to. That is how John will get people ready for the Lord.

Because he questioned the Lord’s promise, Zechariah lost his voice. And I can’t say I blame him. I had my own doubts, but I kept them to myself. And after several weeks, I realized that a miracle had truly happened. At a time in their lives when most women are becoming grandmothers, I was going to have a baby.
I knew that the birth of a healthy child would bring me honor. People would no longer look down on me as barren. The whispers would stop. The pitying looks would be no more.

I took no risks. I stayed at home. I ate healthy foods. I got plenty of rest. And I prayed every day for our baby.

When the time came for the baby to begin moving, I felt nothing. No kicks, no turns, not even a flutter. I tried not to worry. But I wondered if maybe something had gone wrong.

The angel had promised we would have a child. He even gave us the baby’s name- John. The child had to come. Strong and true and alive. And yet it was hard not to worry.

Zechariah tried to reassure me. He wrote in large script on a piece of parchment- “God will not disappoint us.” And so when I found myself feeling nervous or anxious, I would look at those words and pray.

When I was about midway through my pregnancy, I got a letter from my sister telling me that her daughter Mary was coming for a visit. Mary had always been a special favorite of mine. Together we could work on some of the preparations for my coming baby. There were diapers and clothes to finish making. And the old cradle made so long ago by my brothers, needed some mending before the baby was born.

When Mary arrived a few weeks later, I was in the house, washing dishes. I heard her at the door and when I turned she called my name, “Elizabeth, peace be with you.”

And then the most remarkable thing happened- the baby within me leapt for joy.
I couldn’t contain my excitement. I was yelling. I was hollering for anyone to hear.

“God has blessed you more than any other woman! He has also blessed the child you will have. Why should the mother of my Lord come to me? As soon as I heard your greeting, my baby became happy and moved within me. The Lord has blessed you because you believed that he will keep his promise.”

I was so excited. No, it was more than excitement. It was pure joy and the fulfillment of a long held hope. Not just my hope for a baby or my joy at his coming. In that moment I knew that all of our people’s ancient longings for redemption had finally come to pass. Mary, my dear sweet Mary, was going to give birth to the Messiah. She was carrying the Redeemer of all humanity. And in that moment I knew that we could face the future with confidence and excitement.

Can you imagine? Two impossibly pregnant women- the barren wife of an aging priest, and an unknown virgin with neither royal blood nor an important family- singing and praising God- because he had blessed us with this impossible gift.
Mary said, “With all my heart I praise the Lord, and I am glad because of God my Savior. God, the All-Powerful has done great things for me. Hisname is holy. He always shows mercy to his people. He made this promise to our ancestors, and now it is coming to pass.

In the time since that day, I have come to know more deeply that the world is desperately in need of the kind of joy and hope that Mary and I have come to know.

There is great pain in the world- both public and private. People’s hearts are longing for something more. Something different than what the world usually offers. Their souls are hungry for hope and joy.

Despite the fact that we have a connection to God, there are times when, rather than depending on God, we look to our selves for fulfillment. We try to fill the emptiness inside us with the things we can do or the things we can get.
And if we look only to ourselves for hope and joy we are sorely disappointed. Because the good news that we long for- the good news that will fill us up- cannot be found in the world alone or in our selves alone.

And it is to this very longing- to this very emptiness that we sometimes feel- that Mary’s child was sent. The delight, the love, the wonder that we felt that day was sent to fill all the world’s pain- to fill our pain.

We sang that day, not because of anything we had accomplished, but because of the new life that we shared.

We celebrated because although the world and nature itself named us as barren- we were instead suddenly filled with life.

A life that shook the foundations of the world. Even though the world had absolutely no idea what was going on.

I invite you to join in our rejoicing, for one reason, and one reason only, and that is: because God loves us enough to act.

God loves us enough to come to us- to the most barren, the most unnoticed, to the very least of us- TO ALL OF US. And he comes to plant in us, and in our world, God's own life, God's own hope, and God's own promises of peace.

Friday Five for Advent

Today's RevGalBlogPal posts brings the following:

Christ is with us at this time of advent, in the darkness, and Christ is coming with his light- not the light of the shopping centre, but the light of love and truth and beauty. What do you long for this advent? What are your hopes and dreams for the future? What is your prayer today?

In the vein of simplicity we've been asked to list five advent longings. And I have to admit this is a tricky list to make. Do you wish for the big things for the whole world? Or the smaller thinks for your corner of the neighborhood? I did a little of each.

1. Less arguing. Not just peace for the world but peace in our daily lives.
2. More wishes that we all have "a blessed day". This way of saying farewell was new to me when I came to Philadelphia. But there are a lot of church people who rather than saying "Have a good day," when they leave a place or just saying "Good bye" use this phrase instead. It is always a blessing to me when I receive these words. I only wish it was said more often and by more people.
3. People reading the Bible and knowing how much they are loved by God.
4. A personal wish for some quiet time for rest, relaxation and reflection.
5. A deeper appreciation for all that God does, has done and will do in my life. Sometimes I just need to be reminded to stop and give thanks.

So that's my list! The artwork is by Roger Hutchinson. Hope you have a Happy Advent and a blessed day.

Santa Baby- Bookstore Style!

Over the last three years, I have sent quirky emails to the seminary faculty and students to entice them to come down to the store for various reasons. One of my favorite students suggested that I should just blog these things. So here's today's email sent to the faculty with the hope that they will send me their booklists- soon!




To the tune of Santa Baby....

(baboom baboom baboom baboom) (baboom baboom baboom baboom)

Santa Baby,
Just slip some book lists under the tree,
For me!
Been an awful good girl,
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight!

Santa baby,
Some January syllabi too
They’re due!
I'll wait up for you, dear
Santa baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight!

Think of all the fun I've missed.
Think of all the students that I haven't dissed.
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list!

Santa Baby,
I want to mark the invoices “bought,”
Really that’s not
A lot.
Been an angel all year,
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight!

Santa honey,
one little thing I really need
To read
Dr. Wengert’s book list,
Santa Baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight!

Santa cutie, and fill my mailbox with some fed ex
And texts,
For the purchasing line,
Santa cutie,
and hurry down the chimney tonight!

Come and trim my Christmas tree
With some emails from the profs at LTSP!
I really do believe in you.
Lets see if you believe in me!

Santa Baby,
Forgot to mention one little thing
A ring.
Yes, I mean on the phone!
Santa Baby,
please call me with the book lists tonight!
Hurry down the chimney tonight!
Hurry...tonight!

Where has she been?

It has been an incredibly long time since I last blogged. This has happened before. A dry spot in the need to write. It's an oddity among bloggers. It started when our desktop pc died and Soda Chicky took over the laptop. It was summer and she seemed to always be attached to the machine. The girl was reading Fan Fiction, instant messaging her friends, swapping books on Swap Tree. I just gave up trying to get a turn.

Then I learned to knit. And so it seemed that much of my blogging time was filled with trying to figure out how to knit on double pointed needles and looking for dropped stitches. Fall began and the Chick had her own laptop provided by the school system. Hurrah! I thought. Now's my chance. But there are restrictions to the Chick's use of her school computer. Any fan fiction or other silliness needed to happen on my laptop. Plus I was out of practice. So still no blogging. And even less reading of other blogs.

This last month I learned that my job is going to change in April. For those who haven't guessed what an ELCA pastor with a specialized call does in Philadelphia- I work at the seminary. I manage the Augsburg Fortress store that is on campus. It was announced that Augsburg Fortress will be closing all of its retail stores on April 30, 2009. So I will be looking for a new call. It may be possible that the seminary will retain the bookstore under its own management and I would be the likely candidate to manage the store. But there is a lot to look at on both sides before that decision can be finalized.

In the meantime, I had hand surgery last week. I had a trigger thumb which means lousy tendonitis that kept my thumb from bending the way thumbs are supposed to bend. It gets better every day, but I have been accused of trying to keep up with the Bug Man who had a second hand surgery earlier this Fall. He is still off from work and so now we begin the process of doing hand exercises together. (This is not as much fun as it sounds.)

I've also taken on a sweet little part-time job at a small church nearby. I am the "Minister of Christian Education." This means working with the Sunday School of a dozen or so kids aged 10 and under and doing the weekly children's sermon. I am having a great time on Sunday mornings and this experience may help greatly in the ongoing discernment process.

So that's where I've been and what I've been doing. I've been thinking about blogging for the last few weeks, so I think the dry spell is over!

Visiting Molly and her Mom

This past week the Chick and I were in the northern state where Molly lives with her mom Songbird. We were on a work related trip that we were pretending was a vacation. Visiting with Songbird's family made it seem LOTS more like a vacation. We had some of the best fries ever and a lovely visit! We even got to hear Molly's famous Ruu-ruu.

We spent a lot of time in our car over the ten days we were gone. At one point it felt like we had spent an entire day just in the Bronx as we ventured south. Actually it was just two hours but what a long two hours!

We saw our friend the Jersey Girl for a couple of days. As always we had a great time with her. One night we went to the local boardwalk where there was a dance. It was a fascinating combination of people. Many of the young adults were a part of a program for mentally challenged teens. They were having a great time along with moms, dads, little kids and seniors. There were people from all kinds of backgrounds, in all kinds of colors. It made for wonderful people watching. And as the Chick pointed out, nobody seemed to notice or care about all the differences. They were just there to dance and listen to the music.

I had more than one opportunity to just sit and stare at the ocean. It was good for the soul. And on one night we sat on the beach and watched a spectacular fireworks show. We were as close to the place where they shot them off as you could be without being in danger of sparks in your hair. The Chick said it made her nervous but I thought it was exhilarating. You could feel the booms in your body as the rockets went off. It was fabulous! Not crowded. Not hot. Just a wonderful show of light and sound with the ocean at your feet. Such a treasure!

Friday Five: What's in a name?

It's my week to post the Friday Five and after having dinner with Songbird and her Princess, I knew what I had to do!

If you are a regular reader of Songbird's blog, you know that "The Princess" has requested a new name. Her older brother changed his "secret identity" a while back and now this lovely young lady is searching for a new name on her mother's blog. This got me to thinking. How do we come up with all of these names? There must be at least a few good stories out there.

In honor of the Princess I have posted a picture of one of my favorite members of fictional royalty, Robert Munch's "Paperback Princess." She is a brave young woman who doesn't need anyone else to fight her battles. And she knows that what is most important isn't tiaras and finery but what's on the inside. If you haven't read this little fairy tale, I highly recommend it. But I digress.

1. So how did you come up with your blogging name? My blogging name RevHRod is related to a high school nickname. My friends in the art department used to call me H. Rod because of the sloppy way I signed my photograph. Before I was a Rev it was my aol screen name. Post ordination, I modified. And/or the name of your blog? I wanted to feel that my blogging was more about the writing than the reading. And Baby Sister really did say this to my mother one day when Mountain Mama was too tired/preoccupied to listen to the musings of a five year old. Baby Sister said, "That's okay, Mom. You don't have to listen, I just like to talk."
2. Are there any code names or secret identities in your blog? Any stories there? Soda Chicky is my daughter's secret identity. She gave it to herself when she started IMing people. Don't know what it means and I'm not sure she does either. But some how it fits. The Bug Man is my husband who does pest control. My sisters named themselves as did my mother. My staff has been given names that have a strange little connection in my brain.
3. What are some blog titles that you just love? For their cleverness, drama, or sheer, crazy fun? Pink Shoes in the Pulpit; Freshly Ground Freshly Brewed (I love her handle- Hot Cup Lutheran); The Vicar of Hogsmeade.
4. What three blogs are you devoted to? Other than the RevGalBlogPals blog of course! When I have no energy to read any other blogs, I find myself coming back again and again to see how Will's Mama, Songbird and Presby Gal are getting along in the world.
5. Who introduced you to the world of blogging and why? My dear friend Lutheran Zephyr introduced me to blogging. His wife told him he needed a blog because he had too many opinions and she couldn't listen to ALL of them. It seemed like a good reason to blog.

Bonus question: Have you ever met any of your blogging friends? Where are some of the places you've met these fun folks? I met a bunch on the BE and it was wonderful! I've also run into Pink Shoes at the ELCA National Assembly and some others that I'm not coming up with right now because I'm too sleepy!

Friday Five - Fireworks Edition

On the RevGalBlogPals Friday Five, Sally has this to say:

I have to admit that I am chuckling to myself a little; how strange it seems for me a Brit to be posting the Friday Five on 4th July! I realise that most of our revgals will be celebrating in some way today, but I hope that you can make a little room for Friday Five! From my short stay in Texas my memories of the celebrations are of fireworks and picnics, one year we went in to central Houston to watch the fireworks and hear the Symphony Orchestra play, we were welcomed and included, and that meant a lot!

So lets have a bit of fun:

1. Barbeque's or picnics ( or are they essentially the same thing?) Barbeque to me always means staying put- our house or someone else's. Picnics are for the park or in a family twist- a blanket on the living room floor eating pizza. The only exception is when we were kids. My parents would take us to the community pool and send us off to swim. While we were in the pool they would heat up the little hibachi grill they had brought along. Then it was hot dogs or burgers after our swim.

2. The park/ the lake/ the beach or staying at home simply being? The Bug Man and Soda Chicky feel that if it's a summer holiday then we need to have ribs. Ribs means babysitting them for four to six hours while they slow roast in the oven before grilling them outside. A spice rub, basting with pineapple juice and a great sauce at the end. Yummy, messy, good eating!

3. Fireworks- love 'em or hate 'em? Love the fireworks. Hate the crowds, the sweaty heat and the bugs. There are enough local fireworks that we frequently sit in the yard and watch from afar.

4. Parades- have you ever taken part- share a memory... In my first parish in little town Missouri, our church took part in the local Memorial Day parade. We decorated a hay wagon with a large red bow and huge gift tag. On the float were our Sunday School kids in the Christmas program outfits. The gift of Jesus and his love were our entry in the parade.

5. Time for a musical interlude- if you could sum up holidays in a piece of music what would it be? No specifics but it is always fun to hear a brass band- often a military one- playing great marches for the holidays.

When I was a kid we weren't allowed to set off fireworks at home. Papa Joe saw a friend get seriously hurt when he was a kid, so he made sure his own kids were kept at a distance from such things. As an adult I visited friends in Southern California who had to stay home over the fourth in case their homes were hit by stray sparks. With wood shingles, there was a great risk of fire. I love the fireworks show, but here is hoping you and yours have a Fourth that's safe as well as fun!