The Man with the Phone on Speaker

Today did not start as planned, to say the least. But now I'm sitting at the Dunn Brothers that is attached to the Ramsey Country Library, a beautiful building with lime green accents and clean, crisp look. I believe I have found rest in what use to be an old church pew that is covered with a mahogany colored leather. I have purchased Fun.'s iTunes session and have been listening to it on repeat.

To my left sits a man. He has a large cup of milk, an old fashion doughnut and continues to pull out little notebooks and calendars. I found myself filled with joy as he pulled out his smart phone and began to yell as he was not aware that it was on speaker. As I tried not to fully listen in to his conversation, but I do know that he is an appointment for Thursday at 3:00 pm.

I can only assume, and hope, that he has no clue that he will be my photo of the day for December 10th.

Snow Day

Today it snowed and snowed and snowed. I woke up early. I knew the snow was coming. I had a small glimpse of the large flakes late last night while I was driving home. Yet I still was surprised to see the ground covered early this morning. I knew this was not the end. The roads, the trees and even the small children in winter hats and snow suits were covered in these large, white flakes.

Early this evening I trampled through the snow that is up to my knees for a few photos.

St. Nicholas Day

Last  night I placed my shoes outside my door. It was not because they smelled or theywere covered in mud. I was waiting for Saint Nicholas to stop by for a visit.

It was only since starting college that I first heard about Saint Nicholas. One of my professors would celebrate Saint Nicholas Day with his students by bringing cookies and apple juice to class. The first tale I heard about Saint Nicholas goes something like this:

Saint Nicholas lived in modern day turkey, formully known as Asia Minor, during the third century. Nicholas' parents, who taught him to live a Christian life, passed while he was still a teenager, but they had left him with an abundance of money. While living with his uncle after his parent's death, he heard of a man who had lost all his money and Nicholas felt called to action. This man had three daughers and would not be able to pay the dowry for them to get married and begin their own families. The reality was coming that this poor man would need to sell his daughters into slavery.

It was the eve of the night that the oldest daughter was going to be sold into slavary. She had washed her stockings and placed them by the fire to dry.

When the family woke up the next morning they noticed something in the stocking. The daughter reached in to find a large lump of gold -- enough to support the family and pay for her dowry. In the morning to follow, another bag of gold appeared, which would save the second daughter.

The father, realizing he had three daughters, decided he would stay up the third night in order to catch who was performing these acts. As he was nodding off, he heard a noise as the third bag of gold appeared. The father awoke and saw Nicholas.

The father than began thanking Nicholas. Nicholas refused the gratitude and directed the man to give thanks to God for answering his prayers.

This was not the last family Nicholas helped. And since he did not want any attention or thanks, he continue to perform these acts of kindness in secret. While still young, Nicholas was chosen to be Bishop. Nicholas continued to show kindness to his people, especially to children and sailors.

Later on I realized that there are many other tales about Saint Nicholas, but all include his random acts of kindness. Today, Saint Nicholas is celebrated most heavily in European countries like the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany. Children leave their shoes out and awake with gifts. Many celebrate Saint Nicholas day with gifts allowing for the attention to be focused on Christ on Christmas morning.

A coworker of mine shares that her father dresses up as Saint Nicholas on December 6th. Each year he denies that he is her father and holds true to the fact that he is Saint Nicholas, saying 'Saint Nicholas comes through the ones you love.'

May we be challenged to keep the spirit of Saint Nicholas alive in our everyday lives through the kindness we show not to just those we love, but also the stranger.

Out of the Office Reply

Today I am sitting in my favorite local coffee shop, The Coffee Shop NE, to write. I spent a lot of time traveling this summer for work: a week at Luther Crest Bible Camp in Alexandria, Minnesota, a ten-day voyage of never ending excitement to the ELCA Youth Gathering in New Orleans and an adventure, in all uses of the word, to Holden Village in Washington. It was a long summer. It was amazing summer. But I have been looking forward to the month of December and beyond.

A while back it was decided that I would take some extended vacation come December. I still have a few phone calls to make, a list of check-in's to make and a spirituality lock-in this weekend (still hopefully that returned email and phone calls will boost attendance to be able to hold this event), but I am finally at the point where I can step back.

I am already wondering at what time I should head over to the office, but I do not have to be there. I have looked at calendar three times to try to remember where I should be this Wednesday evening, but I have no where to be. It's weird, but it is also exciting.

May we all be granted rest and peace this holiday season.

(With the purchase of a new work station, I updated my desktop image to include one from Heather and Neil's wedding. )

The Best Little Christmas Tree in the World

I may have been more excited to go to college if I knew that my parents would pepper my campus mailbox with packages. And I may have been more excited to graduate college if I knew I would still be receiving care packages from my parents when I was no longer a college student.

You must also know that these are not just any packages. My parents could win awards for the care packages they send. I am not just saying this in order to keep them accountable for the high standard they have already set for themselves.

I write about this today to share about the greatest care package I ever received. It is not one that included beer money or Crayola crayons. It is also not the one that included Salt Water Taffy's from Shrivers or Tastykakes. 

The best care package in the world came my freshman year of college. Prior to making our way to the Commons for lunch, I stopped by the mailroom with my BFF. As I opened my mailbox I noticed the small piece of paper that meant I had a package waiting for me. As I turned in the ticket to receive my box, which I half remember being a Girl Scout cookie box case, I saw that this package came from my parents. In true Sandy form, I ripped open the box, pulled out the sheets of newspaper and begin searching for what was inside.

Inside I first discovered a box of glass Christmas balls, only to be followed by a small green Christmas tree. My dad had even put the lights on the tree prior to mailing it. As a child my dad would cover the four foot tree in my bedroom with lights before I would cover it with ornaments.

This small green tree soon found a place in my dorm room in Marion Hall. In the years to come it had a place in the Alpha Sigma Alpha house, 911 (off-campus house), my apartment in Fergus Falls, and now my aging apartment in Saint Paul.

For some reason this tree is my favorite, even though I have an almost eight-foot tree in my living room that is covered with Dr. Seuss ornaments. The original lights have died and many of the glass balls have shattered through moves, but this Christmas tree is still special, unique and gives me a glimpse that soon I will be back in Philadelphia preparing for another Troyan family Christmas.

AIDS Doesn't Stand a Chance

Today is World AIDS Day and earlier this year Chevron held a contest to challenge independent filmmakers to create a video with a message of why AIDS is going to lose. The video above was submitted by Meanlow Studio in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and gives a glimpse of the progress towards an AIDS free generation in 2015.

Theology of Awe

What is awe? Paul Hill created this definition — the serendipitous, unanticipated experience of the holy. #FirstThird
— Sandy Kathleen (@sandykathleen) November 26, 2012

I have spent a majority of yesterday at Luther Seminary's First Third Dialogue titled, Why Can't my Church be More LIke Camp? The Power of Immersion Learning in Faith Formation. 

Immersion Learning is a hot topic for youth workers and church professionals. We all know there is something unique about the experiences our students have at camp and on short-term mission trips. I am not denying that reality, and I am excited to be with other leaders who want to push this topic further.

Paul Hill, Executive Director of Vibrant Faith Ministries, presented a theology of awe yesterday afternoon. Paul looked to define awe in many ways included a definition he crafted himself -- the serendipitious, unanticipated experience of the holy. Awe is that thing that undermines all of our assumptions. Awe is how God works. Awe is both humility and blessing. And unlike so many things in the world, there is no shortage of awe.

After Paul's presentation we gathered in small groups to dig further into this idea of awe. My group defined awe for ourselves and looked to articulate moments of awe in our own lives. These themes became apparent through our own sharing:

• Awe is different for each person. Therefore, we must look towards the individual, although it may be easier to look at the whole, especially with immersion experiences.
• We can experience moments of awe in the here or now, but we can also experience awe in looking back.
• We must have some sort of knowing of the existence of awe to experience awe.

We then wondered together what it would look like to create the space for awe. Earlier Paul had used the metaphor that camp sets the table for experiences of awe. We set our table and included community, vulnerability, trust, and people.

Yet we were left wondering about this space we had set. In some way we wondered if we have to create the understanding of awe in order to experience awe. For example, I challenge my students to find glimpses of the beloved community in their everyday lives. If this is the first time I asked them to do this and I gave no explanation or example, I cannot be shocked if they report back with glazed looks on their faces. But instead we spent time looking at what is the beloved community and what it looks like in our current context. Do we need to look at awe in the same way or can we leave it as this unnamed abstract thing that transforms everything we know to be true?

A question was posed on whether the church needs to promise moments of awe within their ministry just like camp. I am fearful for that. How do we know of the next in-breaking of the spirit? I fear promoting our next immersion experience as life-changing, because maybe it won't be. I have no control over that. I can set the table. I can wait. And I can challenge my students to find moments of awe in the ordinary, but it might not happen. I'm not trying to limit God or the creative work of the Spirit but I admit, I'm fearful. I do wonder if there is a shift of looking at the awe in the whole of the experience and challenging students and ourselves to find awe in the simplicity of everyday.

I look forward to what Paul adds to the conversation on awe later today. I do agree that there is something intrinsically unique about awe.

Feel free to follow along on twitter using the hashtag #FirstThird.

In My Own Little Corner

There is this place at the Minneapolis/ St. Paul Airport that I like to sit and watch from. It is at the very beginning of Terminal E. To the left you will find a shoe shine and digital boards listening arrivals and departures.  To the right is a wall of glass windows that give you a glimpse out onto the tarmac. The windows are inviting. Low bench like sills and pillars dividing the glass make this spot the perfect place to sit and watch people pass by while waiting for a flight.

For almost four years I have found this exact spot to be one of my favorites. This very spot has been my space as I have sat in anticipation on numerous occasions, whether it be traveling for a meeting, home to Philadelphia to celebrate Christmas with my family or off to Virginia to frolic through the mountains. I have cried in this spot. I have laughed in this spot. I have even colored and dozed off in this spot. For some reason this spot holds a unique value.

Yesterday I arrived back to Minnesota. Less than a week earlier I found shelter in this spot as I clutched my boarding pass just waiting for it to be my turn to take-off. Today, after I got off my plane I used this spot to re-organize my belongings before moving to baggage claim. But I found myself frustrated. I wanted to be able to sit in this spot, because sitting in this spot meant that I got to go somewhere.

I have to admit that I was feeling grumpy having to come back to Minnesota. I was not ready to be back. I knew my return meant finishing up the semester, as well as preparing to be out of the office for over a month.

I knew I did not have the time, nor was it reasonable, but so much of me wanted to take a seat by the window and watch the people pass by. For just that short amount of timeI could imagine that this spot was taking me somewhere else, just like I imagine the lives of the people passing by.

Advice for Older Adults Greeting Young Adults

Our brothers and sisters of the Unitarian Universalist Association have created and published this incredible flyer called Coffee House Caution. 

I know for a fact that these questions get asked of young adults in the church, I've been a victim to almost all of them. I even work in the church and get some of these questions, but most of the unwelcoming curiosity comes when I am visiting churches in the area. 

The comment that I find myself hating the most is, "We need more young people." Of course that would be great, but a statement like that gives you more concern about those missing and no interest in me, the one who did show up for Sunday morning worship or early-morning Matins. I am not trying to be selfish or self-centered, but I want to know that I matter and that I am valued. I do not want to be lumped (with the whole of young adults) nor do I deserve to be the freak show young adult who craves the smells and bells on high feast days. 

I also get huffy and puffy when asked what year I am in school. It is almost as if the only young adults who show up are in some way connected to one of the colleges and universities surrounding the parish. Why, yes, I am a student but if you approach me with a question like that I am going to pretend that I am currently not a student. I may even be tempted to revert to my childhood and stick my fingers in my ears and loudly proclaim, 'La, La, La. I can't hear you.'

I could be overreacting and a little ridiculous, I have been told I do that often by some folks, but if we want to be the church, the church with a radical welcome, it is time that we make that a priority. It is time that we teach people how to be in conversation, how to ask the difficult questions and how to extend a message of welcome. 

Playing the Building

Last night I visited a participatory art exhibit called Playing the Building at Aria in Minneapolis. David Byrne, the musician beyond this traveling experience, uses an antique organ to transform Aria into a musical instrument. The organ itself is attached to a variety of structural elements of the building, including metal beams, electrical conduits and pipes. As each key is hit a different piece of the building reacts.

The most exciting part of the exhibit is the yellow letters that proceed the seat of the organ that say, "PLEASE PLAY." The building itself becomes the instrument, not just the small organ console that sits in the barren floor of the gallery. The building itself is a work of art with glazed windows, exposing brick and what I can only assume as original to the building metal work.

Playing the Building will be at the Aria through December 5th. Aria's website has more information about visiting. Thursday is Pay as you Wish Thursday, but do not forget to support the arts!

The Story of a Dinner Church

St. Lydia's is a Dinner Church located in Brooklyn, New York. The time spent together over a meal offers a space "to eat, explore scripture, offer prayers and sing together." In the video they use the language of this being practice for being in the world.

I have never been To St. Lydia's, but I have been following this community through facebook and twitter for some time now. I may even say I have been fascinated with this approach of being the church.

As a Children, Youth and Family Minister, I wonder about the importance the meal holds for students, not just with their peers but also with other members of the community. For example, last night during the Community Meal at Our Saviour's Lutheran Church, I asked a eighth grade student if I could join him during the meal. Soon three other students joined us at this table, as well as a few young adults. As we sat there and shared our meal we had conversation that may be very normal at a table. We shared about our day, our week and even some pieces of our past. Again, this may be so simple, but I continue to find the table being a sacred place. It is a place where we have the ability to take the time to share, to listen and to expose little pieces of oneself.

My current wondering as I watched the video above is can the modern practices of Confirmation be forgotten and can we move to being present with one another at the table for exploration with young people. Here we can practice and share, explore and question, and pray and sing. Like always, this is a wondering but I hope we continue to find the space to share the sacred practice of the meal together, especially with young people.

I refuse not to discuss topics surrounding religion, politics and The Great Pumpkin

A great theologian by the name of Linus Van Pelt once said, "There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people... religion, politics, and The Great Pumpkin." I am usually in passionate agreement with Van Pelt, as I see the many parallels between our unique lives, but for some reason I find myself in strong disagreement with this statement.

I do have to note that it is only in the last few years that I have found the need to disagree with this statement. Prior to this change of understanding I would deflect any conversation surronding religion, politics and especially, The Great Pumpkin. I knew what I believed and thought and was fearful to share that with others. I saw the potential for disagreement and a skew in confidence would leave me walking away frustrated and doubtful.

I am unable to name one significant event that has transformed my thinking, but have come to some conclusion that it is the power of conversation I have experienced surrounding these topics. And it has been in the past few months that I continue to be transformed by the power that conversation holds not just in my life but the world around me.

Many of you are aware that Minnesota is taking two important issues to the people today:

Amendment 1: Recognition of marriage solely between one man and one woman

Shall the Minnesota Constitution be amended to provide that only a union of one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as a marriage in Minnesota?

     and

Amendment 2: Photo Identification required for Voting

Shall the Minnesota Constitution be amended to require all voters to present valid photo identification to vote and to require the state to provide free identification to eligible voters, effective July 1, 2013?

It has been almost overwhelming to see the role that conversation holds in this election. As I have spent time phone banking, going door to door and even simple data entry, I have seen the power these conversations hold surrounding the topics of religion and politics.To be clear -- discussions around politics and religion have been significant in this election. To go further -- discussions around politics and religion will continue to hold tremidious weight until the polls close this evening, as well as we continue the conversation following November 6th.

I can only begin to articulate the stories I have heard, the questions that have been asked of me and the skepticism of why does this matter. Yet the beautiful power of conversation has lead me to tell my story, ask questions of others and even come with skepticism of my own.

I have not used this space today to articulate my story, but here are a few spaces that have been places of conversation for me. And please honor, respect and engage this conversation. It does not end today. It cannot end today.

Continue the Conversation:
An Open Letter to The Great Pumpkin
Herb Chilstrom, former Bishop in the Lutheran Church, and his wife, share their story through this video, The Meeting, of why they will be voting no today. Chilstrom also shared an open letter through the Star Tribune.
David Blankenhorn has been a leading national opponent of allowing gay and lesbian couples to marry. His view has changed and urges Minnesota to no limit the freedom to marry through this video.

Social Media Sabbath

I took a break. Not a long break, but a small one. It was more than a break, I called it my Social Media Sabbath. I  was stuck in the tension of needing to be caught up in the lives of everyone, but also in the concern of the future. I needed to stop. I needed to respond to the present.

So for one week I may have been a little selfish. I needed authenticity. I needed to be transparent. And I needed a healthy break to be present in my own life, the lives of others and the reality of the world around me.

This past week has been filled with me being human. And in being human I needed to cry. I needed to laugh. I needed to be present with people who would allow me to be human. This may not seem like I was asking a lot, but sometimes I feel the burden of being human.

After this past week I am left saying thank you to those of you that challenge me to be human. Thank you for the embrace, the care and the acceptance of my ridiculousness.

Ballad Of Paul And Sheila

Today marks the 10th anniversary of the plane crash that took the live of Paul Wellstone, his wife Shelia, daughter Marcia and five members of his campaign staff while campaigning for re-election for his third term in the U.S. Senate. Wellstone affiliated with the Democratic Farmer Labor Party.

Wellstone believed that politics cannot be about money and power games but about the improvement of people's lives. In an open later on the anniversary of his death, Former Republican Jim Ramstad says:

We miss your passion to help people who are hurting. People suffering the ravages of mental illness, addiction, homelessness and hunger. We miss our champion for veterans, seniors, abused women and children. Most of all, we miss the authentic person you were. You never took yourself too seriously, but you took the causes you championed very seriously.

As I sit in the fearful anticipation of what is to come, may I continue to wonder, dream and act for those most vulnerable, while continuing the legacy of Paul Wellstone, because "If we don't fight hard enough for the things we stand for, at some point we have to recognize that we don't really stand for them."

Parenthood

When I started watching Parenthood during the end of their first season, I had no idea how much the show would continue to grow and challenge its viewers. As the true humanity of each character is exposed to its viewers, I am drawn more and more into the life of the Braverman's. I think deeply about themes of community, disappear and the role of God as they live into issues of adoption, Asperger's, drug and alcohol abuse, emerging adulthood and reality of being human in a postmodern world.

One of the greatest gifts of the show is a resource called, "The Experts Speak." A group of professionals works through what we can learn from each episode, especially in relationship to Max's Asperger's syndrome. After I remove the tears from eyes after almost every episode, I turn to the Experts Speak in order to go a little deeper. For example, in Season 2, Max is preparing for his cousin, Jabbar's visit. He knows the exact time that Jabbar is going to arrive, but when things do not go as planned, he reacts differently. The expert's share:

So we begin to see the world through Max's eyes - he's a concrete, literal thinker and fully expects events to occur when they're supposed to. He can be quite comfortable when events flow as scheduled, but he can't understand the reasons why people change the set schedules. The ability to accept change requires a sophisticated understanding of social relationships, and why people act the way they do. This is at the core of social impairment in individuals with Asperger's syndrome. 

If you are looking for conversation during Parenthood, feel free to join me and a small group of friends on Twitter (@sandykathleen).

The Power of Play

I stood in the Narthex at Calvary Lutheran Church. I had not been there for worship that morning, but drove over after having a conversation with a group of emerging adults in St. Paul on the recent report on the rise of nones from the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. As I stood there, I looked around to see who was present this morning. 

I quickly spotted a small cafe size table where five-year-old Jacob was sitting. He sat at this table by himself, but there was some empty cups and used napkins making it clear that earlier he was not alone. It was then decided that he would be the victim of my attention for the duration of coffee hour, although I was aware that he would be perfectly content without my engagement.

I found a seat, brushed off some crumbs and took a seat. In front of Jacob was some goldfish crackers, a small pack of Gobstopper candy and half-empty glass of lemonade. I then began my attempts to engage five-year-old Jacob in conversation. I said, ‘Hi’ and he looked at me. I asked ‘How is school ?’, he again looked at me. I asked, ‘Are your brothers here this morning?’ he looked at me again. 

Jacob was no stranger to me nor was I stranger to him. Just last week I sat with him as he worked on his mosaic cross during education hour. I knew I needed to make a leap in our encounter, so I did.

I then asked, ‘Jacob, tell me about his snack.” And off he went. 

It was clear that I had interrupted his play when I sat down with him at that small cafe table. Instantly the story of momma fishes, baby fishes and fish food came alive. Before long the seat cushion became the belly of the big momma fish. And one by one, the sneaky momma fish would eat a piece of food and leave less and less available on the table. 

I was clueless. ‘Jacob’, I said, ‘where has all the fish food gone?’ He giggled and looked at me with suspicion, followed by another spurt of laughter. Before long we dreamed of all the places the fish food had gone. Maybe they had rolled down the small slope in the sanctuary and could now be found under the alter or maybe the fish food was hiding under Pastor Brad’s foot.

Jacob, like so many children I meet, have challenged me to ask the following question -- What is the role of play in the life of a child?

As I paid Children, Youth and Family minister within the church, I have always felt that it is my job to create the program for young people. Our programming must be filled with structure. This can easily be seen in Sunday School classrooms. Even if we leave the space to create or imagine, we very rarely leave room to play. My question is, how do we as the church leave room for play? 

Of, course, I do not have all the answers at this time, yet the role of play continues to be part of my wonderings. Maybe my role is not to create the structure but lead people in the understanding of what it means to engage a child in play. Or maybe my role is to create the space for play. I am not sure, but I have this hunch, a really big hunch, that as the church we must begin to create more space for play. I also have a hunch that this space for play must be created for all ages, not just children.

Field Report - Fergus Falls

If you have not spent some time listening to Field Report, please do, immediately. It is just today that I discovered that they had a song entitled, 'Fergus Falls.' I lived in Fergus Falls past college graduation and sometime in South Florida. Ten years from now I will probably be telling the story of how "my wings iced up in the fall as it gets colder."

This is the one in which I miraculously pulled out of a freefall dive over Fergus Falls, Minnesota This is the one like ten years ago I told you about where my wings iced up in the fall as it gets colder. 

I was concealing his kid under his crewneck state school sweatshirt while he grinned off in the distance behind prescription shades that were blocking out the clouded out sun while he as hoping against a daughter and no one saw my banners, my bruises, my flares, my flags. 

I could have been an artist if I had the tools I could have been a preacher if I suffered fools When we move into the city I know I will have to pay my dues and my respects to his sister and his mother too.

What we don't know about the Voter ID Amendment

Minnesota Public Radio clues us in on what we do not know when it comes to the Voter ID Amendment. 

The Space to Create

You may remember a few days ago I shared an open letter to the Great Pumpkin. I asked for many things in that letter, but the final item on my list was the space to create. Before I go any further, I know many of you are skeptical of the Great Pumpkin. I understand, but hear me out. The past two days have been filled with so many opportunities to create. I have been to six local fabric shops, finished two Christmas presents, sewed through my finger giving me the space to creatively try to bandage it and worked on a tote with vingage hedgehog fabric. I know this may just seem like luck or procrastination, but I am not done believing. The real test will come the evening of November 6th.

I also had the opportunity to restock my earrings and pins. There was some talk about selling them on Etsy but I truly do not think I have the time and energy to keep an Etsy store alive. It takes money, patience and dedication. I have one of those things, but it needs to be shared between work and school. I do have seventy-five pairs of earrings and pins that are still looking for a new home. I can easily accept payment via Pay-Pal, which has an incredibly user friendly iPhone app.

If you are interested please let me know. I can also look through my stash if you are looking for a certain color or print. Both earrings and pins come on a small gift tag with purple or pink stamped bunting and a small fabric tail. I have small craft paper bags which can easily pass as gift wrapping.

Sweetest Day

Sweetest Day is not just another Valentine's Day but one day set aside to celebrate those who make your life special. Heart Birch Kingston, the founder of Sweetest Day, looked to give cheer and happiness to those who were often forgotten, including orphans, shut-ins, and the sick. This year I celebrate those who have been a constant presence in my own life, including those who I often forget to thank.

Fun Sweetest Day Fact: In 1922, The Sweetest Day in The Year Committee distributed over 20,000 boxes of candy to "newsboys, orphans, old folks, and the poor" in Chicago, Illinois. 

Sources:
Sweetest Day
Sweetest Day History and Origins 

Vulnerability in our own lives

I was vulnerable last week. I was scared. I was afraid. I was taking a risk. I was uncertain. I was emotionally exposed. I was vulnerable.

This moment of vulnerability came just hours before hearing  Brown’s presentation entitled, “The Courage to Be Vulnerable in Life, Love and Parenting.” She shared towards the beginning, “I don’t do feelings. I go straight to pissed off.” I don’t do feelings either; therefore, making these deep moments of vulnerability even more difficult. I struggle with being an extrovert in a place that has taken a long time to feel like home. I need to understand that to be alive is to be vulnerable. To be in relationship with others is to be vulnerable. To be human is to be vulnerable. And these are things I want to be -- alive, in relationship with others, and human.

Interestingly enough, the first thing we look for in other people is authenticity, but it is the last thing we are willing to expose. This may not necessarily be how I want to live, but I live in the fear that, “if you know me you can hurt me. If you see me, you may see something you won’t like.” I live in this fictional reality that people may not want to hear my story, but it could be the reality that Brené articulated -- "We share our stories with people who can bear the weight of our stories. We do not want to waste time."

The opposite side of this all is to be human is to be in community with others. Since we are hardwired for connection, when community and connection is absent, we suffer.

The difficulity is knowing when we have found individuals that have earned the right to hear our stories. We must remember that in the smallest of small moments of connection trust is established and developed. These moments can be as simple as a text that says, “What can I do to make things better” or someone remembering an intimate, yet simple, part of your story.

I am not saying that Brené made me want to be more vulnerability, but she did force me to wonder what would it mean if faith communities became places of vulnerability  I'll expose my thoughts on that in the upcoming days.

I am extremely grateful for Brené's research and how she presents the truth on vulnerability. I am not weak because I am vulnerable nor does my vulnerability make me unworthy. I need to be in community with others; therefore, it is only nature that these moments of vulnerability must be part of my life. As much as I want to hide from this all, I am going to continue to be scared, afraid, risky, uncertain, and emotional exposed, because I will continue to be vulnerable. 

The Great Pumpkin

Dear Great Pumpkin,

I am looking forward to your arrival on Halloween night. I hope you will bring me lots of presents. Incase you were having trouble deciding what to bring, I've included this short list with with explanation --

A glimpse of a raining and cold morning at Minnetonka Orchards.

Six short days after your arrival, the people of Minnesota, and across the country, have some big decisions to make; decisions that have the ability to create a greater disconnect between my brothers and sisters. I stand in the complexity of being both hopeful and fearful of what is to come. As a straight, white, educated female, I've never had to face the reality of what it would be like not to have my love between my partner and I recognized by the state or being turned away at the polls when I arrived ready to have my voice heard. The big gulp in my stomach is enough for me to know this is not right. So, Great Pumpkin, I ask that you challenge my brothers and sisters to see the imageo dei in one another. Because as we look to our neighbor as less than being created in the image of God, we, at that very moment, begin to reduce a redeeming and loving God who has created us all in God's very image. And may I, and my friends, continue to be challenged to have these hard conversations.

Great Pumpkin, I sometimes call myself a reverse storyteller. I do tell my story from time to time, but I've found great joy in listening to the stories of others, so it is with deep saddness that I report that many of the stories I have heard recently come with deep saddness and frustration. I wish I had the ability and power to change the emotion of those closest to me, but I understand that that is out of my power. May they be surrounded with healing and comfort as they continue to struggle and discern. And may I continue to be both aware and present in their lives.

And lastly, Great Pumpkin, if you could give me space to create I would greatly appreciated it. I do not mean a full-time studio with a new complete set of acrylics, although I would not refuse that gift, I mean finding time in my life to create. I sat down the other day to create only to find myself frustrated knowing these moments have become scattered and rare. Please challenge me to take time to create and explore with many different medias. 

Great Pumpkin, I understand that you must get discouraged because more people believe in Santa Claus than in you. Well, let's face it; Santa Claus has more publicity, but being #2, perhaps you try harder.

Everyone tells me you are a fake, but I believe in you.

Hearts and Stars,

Sandy K.

P.S. If you really are a fake, don't tell me. I don't want to know.

Direct quotes are in Italics and taken from Charles Schultz's It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

Vote No! Baby!

As it is getting harder and harder to understand why people want to limit the freedom to love and vote in Minnesota, I am grateful for Nathan and his creativity in being a public witness in the world.  

P.S. The wedding scene is filmed in one of the communities I have the great opportunity to explore, create and discern with.

Pause but don't stop

I had the experience to hear Brené Brown speak through the Faith and Life Lecture Series last night. I had placed this date in my Erin Condren Life Planner months ago. Each week when we went through the calendar during staff meeting, I would pause and get a little more excited that this date was getting even closer. 

Of, course, Brené's lecture was truthful, sincere and hilarious. I'll get to that another day.

But more importantly --

Immediately following her presentation I ran out the door. My best friend had called during the lecture and I had the weight of lengthy assignment on my shoulders. I did think for a couple moments that I wish I would have stayed to have my ten second moment with Brené as she signed a copy of her new book, Daring Greatly, but I knew I had to go.

While on the phone with my best friend, I began rationalizing not staying back. Some of the reasons being:

• I already have a signed copy of Clinton Kelly's, Freakin' Fabulous.
• I need to go work on my assignment.
• I am not brave enough.
• I don't have cash to purchase a book, even tough I realized I could have her sign something else like the program for the night, my iPad, Religious Education Encounters Liberation Theology, or my arm.
• I made a commitment to purchase all books that were not for school digitally.

My best friend helped me to discern the future and together we decided I needed to go back. It is helpful to know that we are both peer processors and rationalizers.

I climbed up the stairs and slowly made my way to the book table to see that I could purchase a copy with a credit card. It was a small victory. I then began digging through my over sized Timbuk2 bag for my wallet. I began to panic, it was not there. But after removing my laptop, iPad, seven books, my life planner and a handful of chargers, I discovered my wallet. I approached the table and payed for my books. I then found my place in line; the very end of very long line.

And now I started to panic. What in the world will I say to Brené Brown. Maybe I don't say anything. I bet I could mutter out 'Hi.' Would it be ridiculous for me to share that I want to be her? Awkward for me to divulge the parallels of our two lives? Could I be honest and say that it may not be your work on vulnerability that has spoken to me as much as your vocation?

My coward soul decided on these words, 'thank you for your presentation.' 

It was now my turn to approach the small table that on the one side stood me and the other side sat Brené. And like I had time to rehearse for the past hour, I took a deep breathe and said 'thank you.' I can only assume that these words came out with a level  of excitement that I only reserve for special occasions and places like Christmas morning and entering the main gates for the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World.

I assumed that would be all, but Brené stared at me for what seemed like hours. I took this as she had crated the space for me let it all out. It was probably more of her wanting to know who this book was to be addressed  to.

But I ignored that piece and let it all out. I think I made an attempt to articulate that I am grateful for what she is doing in the field. I shared that when people ask me what I want to do when I grow up, I say that I want to study embrace. I want to sit and listen to the stories of people's lives. She thenvsaid something along the lines of how is that working. I took a deep breath, followed by an eye roll.

She then said these words.

"Listen. There's something about you. I'm thinking good things about you. You pause for the skeptics, but don't stop."

Now that I have Brené Brown's approval to study embrace, I'm off.

My Life as a None

I could be a none. I have thought about it many times over the last eight years or so as I began studying theology in two unique academic institutions. There have been times that it seems like the right decision.  The most recent trends that show a rise in nones makes all the more sense why I could and should be a none. 

I have been apprehensive of organized religion and religion overall. I have sat in awe listening to older generations tell their faith story without articulating moments of doubt or roadblocks in terms of their commitment to God and the church. I have been suspicious listening to call stories of friends and colleagues. I wondered when I am going to experience this great emotional experience of being called. 

I have thought I would prefer to spend my Sunday mornings brunching with new friends well into early afternoon then sitting in worship dealing with my doubts and questions. My lay ministry position allows me one to two Sundays off a month. What if the days of ever setting an alarms on Saturday evenings were over?

It seems easier for my authority to be in more tangible things. And why not give up the call to live in but not off the world. I’ve been honest that both when my father was diagnosed with cancer and I had some medical issues my faith was in advancements in medicine, not God. I even became frustrated as people began to surround me with prayer and empty promises. 

I think I have found myself glamorizing the life of nones. 

Maybe, just maybe, I am jealous. I often wonder if living my life as a none would be easier than living my life as a Christian.

To get a better grasp on what is none, let’s turn to a new study by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life released on October 9th, 2012. The Pew Forum discovered that no religion is quickly becoming the fastest growing religion in America. A none is a person that claims no religious affiliation. To put this into perspective, fifty years ago in the 1960’s, two in three Americans claimed to be Protestant. Today, 48% of Americans considered themselves Protestant, 22% Catholic, and 20% of Americans consider themselves nones. That is one in five Americas claim no religious affiliation at all. 

The reality among nones is that only 10% of them are looking for religion that would be right for them. 88% shared that they were simply not interested. Among my peers, older millennials, 30% are considered nones. 

The question I ask myself why not be a none? If asked today, could I leave it all behind.

It’s become apparent that in the lives of young people there are other places to discuss issues like religion and morality. The role of community has become part of workplaces and social clubs. And the need to work of behalf of peace and justice is not just the work of the church.

The truth is, as I continue to reflect, I am not ready to give it up, nor can I imagine ever being ready.

As I have these moments of extreme doubt and questioning, I am surrounded by a community of peers, friends, mentors that say, ‘Wait, me, too.’ As I share my faith in modern medicine, they say, again, ‘me, too.’ And when I selfishly share that I struggle to get out of bed on Sunday morning, they say, ‘that’s normal.’

My difficulty is how do I make a case to nones to give religion another chance. Are they going to become suspicious as I share my glimpses of the beloved community that come at the most unexpected time? Will they poke fun of my deep passion to expose the imago dei in all people? And will they believe me when I say that I often find myself in a place of deep doubt and even larger questioning, but I have found a community that allows for me to expose that?

I have no idea. 

I really don’t.

I hope as I continue to be transparent about my struggle to close the gap between secular and sacred that I can become a visible witness to the role of the Holy Spirit creatively working in our world today. I hope that a need for explanation and understanding welcomes conversation and expression. As I sit in fear of the role of religion in America, I have hope that this is not the beginning of the end. 

Most importantly, I have to retract my first sentence -- I cannot be a none. 

My Sins Are All I Have

“Sister, I won’t ask for forgiveness; my sins are all I have.”^[1]

And she said to him, “I want the last face you see in this world to be the face of love, so you look at me when they do this thing. I’ll be the face of love for you.”^[2] And there she sat, like promised, being the face of love for Matthew Poncelet. Sister Helen Prejean watched the injection reach Poncelet’s lungs, then his heart, until the only emotion left on Poncelet’s face was death.

Dead Man Walking takes us through the last days, hours and minutes of the life of Matthew Poncelet. Poncelet, convicted of murder, found himself on death row, yet even till the day of execution, he wished to perform a lie detector test “so [his] momma knows [he] didn’t do this.”

During the film, Poncelet is accompanied by Sister Helen Prejean. Their relationship began through letters, but Prejean then agreed to visit Poncelet on death row. It was through this relationship that Prejean discovers the inequality of the judicial system occurring in Louisiana during the 1990’s. She is then willing and determined to find Poncelet fair representation in hopes that he obtains reprieve.

As Poncelet is being referred to “white trash” and God’s mistake” from the victim’s parents, Prejean is able to see Poncelet as something more, human. She has the follow interaction with one of the victim’s fathers:

Clyde Percy: How can you stand next to him?

Sister Helen Prejean: Mr. Percy, I’m just trying to following the example of Jesus, who said that a person is not as bad as his worst dead.

Clyde Percy: This is not a person. This is an animal.

Prejean sees Poncelet as who he is: human. In the same way, as the film goes on, Poncelet begins to see Prejean as human. He begins to intertwine human emotion into the relationship with the nun he once only knew through letters.

As Poncelet and Prejean begin to create identity in one another, they begin to establish and accept that one another is human. It is because of the very nature that one is human that they are not perfect. It is also the very nature that one is human that interaction with God can, and will, occur.^[3]

Although the tone in Poncelet voice makes us wonder the sarcastic nature of his comment, he speaks out saying,  “I never had so many people caring about me this much.” It is easy to question, like the victim’s parents, why must one give this care to an individual that has been accused for murder and rape. Is death the solution to the crime? The question can also be asked to the solution given by Chaplain Farley, ‘save him by having him receive the sacraments of the church.’ As the other becomes present in Poncelet’s life, this question continues to be asked.

Mirslav Volf’s, Free of Charge allows one to begin to define the rule of God, the individual and the other in the midst of Dead Meaning Walking. Volf makes clear that society often identifies with false realities of God. This may be as God the negotiator or God: the Santa Clause. Both of these identities limit the relationship of God as the “infinitely generous source of all good” and the fact that humanity is created in God’s image.^[4]  Poncelet, himself, interacts with God the Santa Clause. In his  last days of his life, he turns to scripture saying, “It's quiet. Only three days left. Plenty of time to read my Bible and look for a loophole.” If the concern is only to find a loophole, God has been limited.

To think of both of Prejean and Poncelet as both being created in God’s image allows one to understand that being human means being God “in true righteousness and holiness.”^[5] Yet understanding one’s self still needs to be defined and understand. Volk engages the reader to think in-terms of old self and new self. It is the new self that one is with Christ. Through this encounter one must take off the old and clothe themselves with the new.^[6] Dead Man Walking symbolically shows this as Prejean marries the church and takes her vow of poverty, chastity and obedience.

It is also through this new self that one gives. “We don’t give mainly because God or God’s messengers command us to. If we did, we should be giving under compulsion, and therefore, reluctantly. Instead, one give because they are givers because Christ living in us is a giver.^[7] One’s very nature to be a giver also coincides with humanity being sinful. Therefore, it is necessary for God the creator to also be God the redeemer. As the giver, God continues to give. God’s giving is not limed. For if we understand that God would stop given, there would be no need for humanity to exist.^[8]

God is not an aimless giver. God “aims to create human givers and, after they have fallen into sin, to redeem them and finally, to glorify them in perfect community with God and one another.”^[9] The understanding of God given in order to create human givers is seen through Prejean. Volf proclaims that our current culture in not a forgiving culture. If there is no need for forgiveness, there is no need for the giver.^[10] The shift comes with beginning to understand what is unique of Prejean’s situation that gives her both the ability to give and forgive.

The role of being in community with God and one another is present in the live of Prejean. Poncelet and Prejean’s life situations are unique to one another. Poncelet sits on death row, while living in solitary confident. His community is prisoner guards that see their actions as “part of the job.” As Prejean visits the home of his mother and Poncelet spends some last moments with his family, we see family dynamics of a single mother with four children. As montages of Prejean’s past are intertwined throughout the movie, she is surrounded by others from an early age. Family and friends are present when she made her vows. There is also the assumption that the sisterhood will provide community for Prejean.  And as she returns from prison, Prejean is accompanied each evening by a close friend. Young neighboring children surrounded Prejean. When she returns from Poncelet’s injection and funeral, the power of community surrounds Prejean with art work from the children.

The very nature of what it means to be in community creates the very space for one to experience both God as the giver and God the redeemer. Part of responding to God’s forgiveness is by passing that forgiveness on to others. One’s failure to forgive undoes God’s forgiveness.^[11]It begs the question can one forgive in solitude and without appropriate community. In the title track to the movie, Bruce Springsteen’s sings, “Sister I won't ask for forgiveness/ My sins are all I have/” It is the acceptance of the reality that community is not existent. If the crime and current situation is the community, one cannot experience the giving nature of God and also the redemptive power of God. It is not until Poncelet begins to experience community that he can begin to forgive.

The transformative of the experience of community comes alive as Poncelet looks to Prejean and says, “Thank you for loving me.” The love that is alive in community, yet an emotion that has been distant and nonexistent in his life, is present. As Poncelet lays on the table, being prepped for death, he turns to those present and asks for forgiveness. This is the truth that Prejean and the victim’s families have been waiting for. Volf puts word’s to this scene. He writes,  “The scandalousness of God’s indiscriminate forgives hits us even harder when we are called on to imitate it.”^[12] Here the communion of God comes alive in scandal. The scandal is the death of Poncelet. Yet for the first time Poncelet has imitated that forgiveness that has been given to him by God and Prejean.

Poncelet now has more than his sins. He has community.  The very nature of community allows Poncelet to be the giver and the forgiver that God has proclaimed him to be.

---

^[1] Springsteen, Bruce. "Dead Man Walkin'" Rec. 9 Jan. 1996. Music From And Inspired By The Motion Picture Dead Man Walking. Columbia. CD.

^[2] Dead Man Walking. Dir. Tim Robbins. By Tim Robbins and Helen Prejean. Perf. Susan Sarandon, Sean Penn, and Robert Prosky. MGM, 1995.

^[3] Volf, Miroslav. Free of charge: giving and forgiving in a culture stripped of grace. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2005, 25.

^[4] Ibid., 27.

^[5] Ibid., 24.

^[6] Ibid., 59.

^[7] Ibid., 66.

^[8] Ibid., 35-6.

^[9] Ibid., 70.

^[10] Ibid., 211.

^[11] Ibid., 125.

^[12] Ibid., 178.