Herstory retold

I was born and raised with 60 miles of Fort Worth, Texas. My family lineage shows that at least two different lines of it came to Texas in the early 1800s. I am a sixth generation Texan. While I detest much of the politics of the past few decades of Texas government and what has passed as the Episcopal Church, I am proud to be a Texan and love the wild nature and natural diversity of the State.

I came into the Episcopal Church via the Diocese of Fort Worth in 1986. As I came to realize how I did not fit into that narrow idea of church, I found an opportunity to become a part of Integrity. Because of that, I attended General Convention '06. It was there that I found the real Episcopal Church.

I live now in Saint Louis, Missouri, in the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri. While Saint Louis has many problems, it is a beautiful place. Although it is a bit cold far too long for this thin Texas blood, it has been exciting to see four seasons and the absolute beauty of flowers in late summer. Who knew that grass could be green in August?

I came to Saint Louis for one reason – in this diocese, there would be no discernment restrictions placed upon me due to the fact that I am a woman and lesbian in a long term relationship. This does not mean that I would be automatically accepted in a discernment process; rather, it meant only that I would not be automatically denied simply because of these two things. One of the few problems that I have with this diocese is that so many of the people in the church have no idea what it means to live in a despotic diocese – even though Springfield borders this diocese. But then, how could know?

I have worked and worshipped at Christ Church Cathedral Saint Louis for a bit over one year. Fully involved in the community, my discernment committee has been called, we have had a first meeting and I now have this help I need to walk with me on this part of the journey as together we attempt to understand how God is calling me.

As a part of my discernment, I made the decision not to attend General Convention in Anaheim this year. I had been scheduled to work with Integrity during the entire two weeks. While I know this was the right decision for me to make, there is the reality that I will miss it more and more as its time nears.

So, over the next few weeks, I hope to dedicate this blog to an awareness of the problems that still exist in far too many places. Gays, lesbians and women are basically "safe" here in the Diocese of Missouri (at least from a church aspect) but that cannot be said in other places. It is time to change. That cannot be done by sitting still and quiet.

Since there is no need whatsoever in re-creating the wheel, I suggest that those interested go to my sister Elizabeth's blog where she is currently reliving "herstory".

I cried. And then I cried more when I next read this part. Most especially when I read this particular quote: "My ordination will not be complete until everyone who is called to stand where I am privileged to stand is allowed to pursue their vocation - no matter their race, ethnicity, gender, age, socio-economic class or sexual orientation."

I know where Elizabeth Kaeton stands. And I am thankful to have her standing beside me.

Can't help but think...

silly dinks....

http://fwepiscopal.org/news/responsetolawsuit.html

I signed the Dallas Principles

From http://www.thedallasprinciples.org/The_Dallas_Principles/Home.html

THE DALLAS PRINCIPLES

PREAMBLE

President Obama and Congress pledged to lead America in a new direction that included civil rights for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender Americans. We now sit at a great moment in our history that inspires the nation to return to its highest ideals and greatest promise. We face a historic opportunity to obtain our full civil rights; this is the moment for change. No delay. No excuses.

Nearly forty years ago, a diverse group of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people stood up to injustice at the Stonewall Inn in New York City. In doing so, they submitted themselves to bodily harm and criminal prosecution. Their demand was simple – equal protection under the law.

Still today, full civil rights has eluded the same community that rioted forty years ago. Instead, untold sums of resources have been spent to divide our nation and turn our lives into a political football.

At several junctures in American history, the stars have aligned to deliver the promise of equal protection under the law to those previously denied. At this unique time in history, our nation must once again exercise the great tradition of making its people equal. Justice has too long been delayed. A clear path toward full civil equality for the LGBT community is overdue and must come now.

Using fear and misunderstanding to justify discrimination is no longer acceptable in this nation. Those content with the way things are will be judged harshly by history. Those who do not actively advance these ideals or offer excuses will be judged just as harshly. Those who attempt to divide our community or to delay and deny action on civil equality, waiting for the right moment to arrive, will be held accountable. We reject the idea that honoring the founding principles of our country is controversial.

We believe in the inherent human dignity of all people. No longer will we submit our children, our family, our friends and ourselves as a political tool for any Party or ideology. A new day has arrived.

PRINCIPLES

The following eight guiding principles underlie our call to action. In order to achieve full civil rights now, we avow:

1. Full civil rights for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals must be enacted now. Delay and excuses are no longer acceptable.
   
2. We will not leave any part of our community behind.
   
3. Separate is never equal.
   

4. Religious beliefs are not a basis upon which to affirm or deny civil rights.

5. The establishment and guardianship of full civil rights is a non-partisan issue.

6. Individual involvement and grassroots action are paramount to success and must be encouraged.

7. Success is measured by the civil rights we all achieve, not by words, access or money raised.

8. Those who seek our support are expected to commit to these principles.

FULL CIVIL RIGHTS GOALS

Being united by common principles and engaging in united action, we will achieve the following goals:

1. DIGNITY AND EQUALITY. Every lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender person has inherent dignity and worth, and has the right to live free of discrimination and harassment.

2. FAMILY. Every LGBT person has the right to a family without legal barriers to immigration, civil marriage or raising children.

3. ECONOMIC OPPORTUNITY. Every LGBT person has the right to economic opportunity free from discrimination in employment, public housing, accommodation, public facilities, credit, and federally funded programs and activities.

4. EDUCATION. Every LGBT child and youth has the right to an education that is affirming, inclusive and free from bullying.

5. NATIONAL SECURITY. Every LGBT person should have the opportunity to serve our country openly and equally in our military and foreign service.

6. CRIME. Every LGBT person should enjoy life protected against bias crimes.

7. HEALTH CARE. Every person should have access to affordable, high quality, and culturally competent health care without discrimination.

CALL TO ACTION

1. We demand that government officials act now to achieve full civil rights without delay.

2. Our organizations and individuals need to develop a collaborative and revolutionary new organizing model that mobilizes millions of supporters through emerging web and phone technologies.

3. All LGBT individuals must accept personal responsibility to do everything within their power for equality and should get involved in the movement by volunteering, giving and being out.

4. We will hold elected officials and our organizations accountable for being transparent and achieving full civil rights by active participation when possible and active opposition when necessary.

5. Our allies need to be proactive in public support for full civil rights.

6. Every government measure that quantifies the US citizenry must permit LGBT individuals to self-identify and be counted in every way citizens are counted.

7. We demand that the media present LGBT lives in fair, accurate and objective ways that neither include nor give credence to unsubstantiated, discriminatory claims and opinions.

An Appearance of Wisdom

Tucker is one of those types of kids that drive some adults crazy…me, being one of them. He has to touch everything, turn every knob, open every drawer, push every button, open anything that is closed (funny how he never closes anything that is opened though…). He has been that way all of his life. We thought that he would grow out of it as he got older. Here he is at 13 and nothing is sacred to him, most of all, those things that irritate me.

He has no need of personal space so he has absolutely no understanding of those who do. In fact, he is often wounded by those who demand that he back off just a little bit. Reminders do little but quell the momentary action. As soon as a parental back is turned, fingers go to fiddling with whatever is there. We have to hide the pens that we really like because if he has one of them for more than a couple of minutes, the clip is broken off or it is taken apart with all the insides disappearing.

It really is a chore trying to curtail these actions. When he was little, we tried for a little while the hands in pockets trick while we were in a store. Well, the only thing that happened with that was us saying every few minutes, "hands in your pockets!" We became the irritants rather than him. Within moments of any entry we made into any store, the shoppers and workers alike knew Tucker's name.

One of the biggest problems that he has in school is that his teachers are constantly saying, "Tucker…", "Tucker…" for one thing or a dozen. Soon the other students in the class pick up on it and it becomes a "Tucker did it…" type of blame game whether he actually did anything or not.

So, Thursday morning, while reading the Daily Office, this popped out at me. In fact, it screamed.

"If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the universe, why do you live as if you still belonged to the world? Why do you submit to regulations, Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch? All these regulations refer to things that perish with use, they are simply human commands and teachings. These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-imposed piety, humility, and severe treatment of the body, but they are of no value in checking self-indulgence." Colossians 2:20 - 22

When I read it, I immediately thought of this child of ours to whom rules and regulations mean very little.

Tucker is by no means the only child I know who is like this. I think it is safe to say by looking at the statistics on Attention Deficit Disorder and Hyperactivity that we, as a nation, are in the process of bringing up a really large number of these children. But I wonder how many of these kids are truly "disordered"?

Maybe, as the author of Colossians points out, we should question our own actions. Just what we are doing by labeling our children as disordered. Perhaps it is not something that is wrong with them…perhaps it is merely "an appearance of wisdom" on our part.

For if we do claim to be "with Christ" how do we continue to live a life of human regulations that possibly inhibit the Spirit from working with us? Our rules of do not, do not, do not, are human commands and teachings. Do these rules matter to God or in living our lives to the glory of God?

There are several layers to this concern: If we want to go with the idea that these children are "disordered" then why so many? What have we done to create this "disorder"? What is in our environment, our food, our clothes, our water that could cause such vast numbers of attention deficit children? Supposedly, approximately 2 million children in the US have been diagnosed with ADHD.

And if there are that many, what does that mean in terms of how we deal with them? Do we medicate them or not? What if they are not really ADHD; rather, what if they are kinesthetic learners who have need of gross motor movement in order to learn best? There is a fine line in distinguishing the difference between ADHD and a learning style. It is estimated that 15% of the population are kinesthetic learners.

What are we willing to do to our children to make them mind? Are we prepared to subject them to "severe treatment of the body"…for what is a mind altering drug but a severe treatment? Yes, these drugs do help in many cases of ADHD but at what cost? Further, the drugs are just band aids, dealing with the symptoms rather than the cause. What is the cause? Or even more importantly, what is the real problem?

We want life to be simple. I can't see that it ever has been so, not even in the nostalgic era of the 50's – James Dean and Tennessee Williams are just two examples of the angst that existed in some. Life is not simple. It is fast and harried and in the midst of all the rush rush, lonely. We want answers and quick fixes. We want solutions that cause the least amount of worry and pain.

What are we willing to accept for our children for the sake of expediency?

For whose quality of life are we most concerned?

Might we be called into an analysis of our own way of dealing with certain things? Might it be a time when we are called into changing our own ways?

I Am The Good Shepherd

Yesterday was Good Shepherd Sunday. "I am the good shepherd" the Gospel of John tells us. "The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep." John 10:11.

Long ago, or at least what seems like long ago, I wrote about a different type of shepherd. Actually it was more of a "Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter my sheep" type of thing. (Jeremiah 23) I remember so many Good Shepherd Sundays in the past where I sat in the congregation feeling as though I did not belong, wondering why I continued to subject myself to the misery of sermons that seemed hell-bent on casting me aside if not totally out.

Life is so different today. On this Good Shepherd Sunday, surrounded by the Glory of God and clergy who I do believe love all of us, basking in the success of a fun-filled parish event, it was easy to hear the words of the Gospel.

I actually attended two services yesterday. I often do simply because there is a commitment to work in one and the other is a choice I make. The first sermon was preached by our new provost, the Very Rev. Mike Kinman. As I sat listening to this man that I had watched from so far away when I was in Fort Worth, I was filled with a sense of righteousness – an understanding of how unjust was the condition of my life in church before I came here. The difference shows between those hired to do a job and those who do it because they love it. I am not afraid of being cast aside, tossed out or left alone to fend for myself. I know that there are people to whom I can turn.

The second service sermon had two bishops in it – the Rt. Rev. George Wayne Smith, the tenth bishop of Missouri and a major reason why we even came to St. Louis in the first place and the Rt. Rev Greg Rickel, the eighth bishop of Olympia. Bishop Rickel was here as the guest preacher for the 117^th Flower Sunday of the Diocese of Missouri. He is also a presenter for Climate Project. Debbie, Tucker and I met him two years ago when he was the rector of St. James in Austin TX. We were there near the time of our anniversary and he was the very first clergy to give us a blessing. It surprised me how emotional that moment was and he holds a special place in my heart for that.

One of the points that Bishop Rickel made that stuck with me was the idea that shepherds do not lead – most often they follow behind. My first thought was that shepherds herd; that is, they direct. Yet thinking on it some, rather than "herding" my thoughts turned to the idea that they follow behind the sheep so that they can tend to any straggler. I know that this is the actuality of "herding" however, it is more than that. From behind, they can more easily see those who are struggling to keep up, those who wander off a bit or those who just head in a totally different direction. It is a sense of watching and protecting rather than just directing. Many can direct; fewer care to watch and protect.

I have found a "safe" place here in the Diocese of Missouri. For me, this is a place that I know there are certain people who care about the direction my life is heading. Not only do they care but they nurture me. And to what good? Why do they do this? Simply because they believe that it is the Holy Spirit working in me, in them, in this place. And they seek to follow the Good Shepherd by imitation.

Holy Days and Spaces

This Holy Week has been one for my long term memory collection. From the excitement of Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, to "Hosanna: the Sequel "on Monday, anguish at the "keening of the women" as we read Katie's "Women of the Passion, a Journey to the Cross" on Tuesday, to Wednesday evening's shared meal, to last night's call not only to let one wash my feet but also to wash another's and then to the stripping of the altar making it into an empty tomb, this week has been full of the expected and the unexpected. Many moments stand out as exceptional ones. Of the unexpected, two moments and one thought are haunting me.

On Wednesday evening, a small group of us – twelve to be exact – met in the Nave of Christ Church to share a meal together. It was very informal. I had made a huge loaf of bread. As I made the bread, it never occurred to me that it would be held up to God, blessed and broken as Jesus might have broken that bread so long ago. It was a profound moment wherein the holiness that I always knew existed in the making and sharing of bread came into full light. I have to say I will never bake another loaf without that visual in my head.

During that same meal, as we were gathered together at that long table, there was a certain seriousness because we knew what we were doing, what we were emulating. Yet, 'life its ownself' took over many times and the conversation would spontaneously erupt and there would be laughter. I think this also must have occurred at that last supper that Jesus and his followers shared together. During our meal, as the timbre and volume of our group rose and fell, I had small flashes of perception. This was what happened then. Jesus was trying to give insight as to what was to come. They would all be serious for a few moments as they listened and tried to grasp his message but then conversation would gently turn from the serious to the way of conversation when family and friends gather together, regardless of the reason for the gathering. We are no different. We would have understood and misunderstood the same things as did the disciples. We would have tried and failed. The saga continues.

Last night we attended the Maundy Thursday service. I did not want to do the foot washing thing. No phobias, nor hang-ups. I just did not want to do it. Worn from the previous days or maybe fearful of the emotion I knew I was about to feel, I do not know. But, first as I heard the Gospel reading and then Mike Kinman's sermon, it became one of those things that I could not not do. To allow another to wash our feet, that private part of us that even the most brazen of us are often unwilling to share with another, is to open ourselves up to the fullness of truly sharing our love for one another. To wash another's feet is to give that same gift. As Mike noted, to open ourselves to that degree is to put ourselves in a fully vulnerable place.

A woman washed my feet. I do not know who she was although her face was familiar. She was so gentle, as if I would break, as if I was fragile, precious, and yes, irreplaceable. When it came my turn to wash another's, I tried to emulate that action of love that she gave to me.

During this whole week, my mom has been close on my mind and heart. She and so many others in Fort Worth (and other dioceses) are displaced from their physical buildings as they grow their faith communities in women's club, civic centers, schools and other borrowed or rented places. I know that many are experiencing a sadness that they are not in the familiar and known places of Holy Weeks in the past.

Yet, perhaps they are actually closer to the reality of that day so long ago than are we as we watch from our permanent pews as the tomb is prepared.

This stripping of the altar, no, not just the stripping but the actual removal of all things connected with our crucified and risen Christ, this does not happen just on a Maundy Thursday in Holy Week for them but each and every Sunday since having left their familiar and beloved buildings of community worship.

Each Sunday, they prepare a temporary Holy space. Then each Sunday, they prepare an empty space. What they do, intended or otherwise, encapsulates a holiness that is profound in its necessity.

A friend of mine warned me about being too busy; that if I was, I might not have the empty holes in my life through which I can see how God is leading me. Maybe this idea fits here also. Rather than too busy, perhaps necessity and inconvenience leads us into a new comprehension of how and where God is leading us. With the familiar comes a rote understanding, good and necessary yet not always open to change.

I perceive the sadness from several people in Fort Worth as they lament the road they have had to travel as they feel poignantly the loss of the material. A hole has been created in their lives. Yet it is in this hole, through this hole, that they might come into a closer vision of what it is that they are doing each week as they break down these precious tokens that we use to share this meal together in remembrance of Jesus.

My mom had already mentioned a couple of times to me the new understanding of Altar Guild that many of them were experiencing. I am sure this is happening in many places were Episcopalians have found themselves locked out of their places of worship. Suddenly, rather than a Sacristy or a closet, the Altar Guild is working from a car trunk. While tedious, I am sure, there must be a renewed reverence for these special tools used in the sharing of Holy Eucharist. The lack of a permanent building, the hope for a return to the old and familiar – these are also opportunities for a renewed reverence for a space of worship. Wherever we are gathered to praise God, to remember, to worship is Holy. There is definitely a sense of the Holy from my point of view as far as what these Faith Communities are doing, what they have endured and what will be in the future for them. There is a strong sense of re-memory, of what came before to bring us to this new place.

The lesson for me is this: Life is precious. All other things are fluff. The building I work and worship in each week and each Sunday, is temporary regardless of its age. The vision of the crucifixion, the tomb and the glorious Resurrection are in my memory forever, regardless of where I am physically. The holes that I create during my moments of stillness, silence and even inconvenience and necessity are opportunities for me to see more of what God has placed before me to see.

My thoughts and prayers are especially with all who are in these temporary spaces. May you find the "holes" of holiness in these spaces. May those of us who, in the comfort of our material, understand the temporary and the permanent.

Fear is the god of the National Organization for Marriage

Excerpts from the Rev. Susan Russell's blog:

"Here's the national radio campaign launching tomorrow from the "National Organization for Marriage" -- in response to Iowa and Vermont:

Click here to listen

Do not -- I repeat -- DO NOT underestimate the capacity of those who believe they have sole possession the Absolute Truth to tell whatever lies they need to to acheive their goals."

Hate and Fear are strong emotions. There are some people who are so afraid and so filled with hate for lesbian and gay people that they will stop at absolutely nothing to break us down and put us away.

We cannot merely sit here reading our blogs and podcasts, shaking our heads in amazement or nodding our heads in agreement. We have to act.

As long as the church wibble-wobbles on this issue, so will the rest of our world. That is why it is VITAL that Integrity be at Anaheim fully prepared to wrestle this issue into oblivion.

We cannot continue to meekly say, "in a few years" or "for our children"...the time is NOW. We will never be considered equal as long as we are willing to step down from the steps that lead us to equality.

Funny thing - when the church gets involved in an issue deemed by others as "secular" suddenly the issue takes on a whole 'nother level of meaning. It becomes an issue of justice rather than a "right".

Let us move this "issue" fully into the realm of "Justice".

Stand up. Shout out. Give money. Donate time. Talk to your neighbors. As a person of faith, write your congresspeople. As an Episcopalian, take your bishop and deputies out for coffee or lunch.

Do something. Now.

It is as serious as saving a life. Maybe yours...or maybe the one so filled with fear.

Happy Birthday, AbbyCat!!!!!

One of the things that has most affected us as we live here in St. Louis is being away from our family - in particular, for me, being away from our grandchildren.

Beginning in April, we have birthdays for very special people - Abby in April, Tucker and Caleb in May, Kyleigh in June and Kason in July. Today is Abby's 5th birthday. It is also the second birthday that we have now missed.

Today, for your birthday, sweet Abby, we went to a rally. It was a rally to ask the government of Missouri to make sure that take care of all the special people in Missouri, little girls and boys like you, Caleb, Kyleigh and Kason. The rally was called "Rally for a Compassionate Missouri Budget." The government is trying to say that there isn't enough money to pay for healthcare for kids, grandmoms and pops and people who have disabilities. The state government thinks that special people are not worth spending money on.

Deda, Tucker and I think this is sad. All we can say is that they must not have special people in their lives like you. They must not know what it is like to miss their little granddaughter's 5th birthday.

So, Abby, we tried to do something good on your birthday.

Happy Birthday, AbbyCat!!!!!

We love you very much!
Noni, Deda and Tucker

Anyone reading this who lives in Missouri, check out http://compassionatemissouribudget.blogspot.com/. Let's do something about this!

Willie Loberta Beasley b. March 28, 1908

I feel a bit nostalgic today. It is cold, rainy and four inches of snow predicted…just perfect to realize how far away from home I am on this late March day. Today is my grandmother's birthday. She died July 17, 1998. It messes with my mind to think it has been 10 ½ years since she left this world.

Born outside of Wainwright Oklahoma just months after Oklahoma became a state, she was an awesome person. She lived a "hard knock life" but bounced back every time. She moved into the Crazy Water Hotel in Mineral Wells, Texas when she was around 85. Although she wanted to be close to family, she was sort of afraid to move there because a "bunch of old people lived there." She thought that being around young people kept her young. And she was probably right. But she never did get old. They all loved her and her being there probably made them all younger. She made people laugh.

I remember clearly the day she broke her hip. She sat down. That was all. The chair was a little bit lower than she thought it was and she plopped. I can remember the way she looked at me and then stuck out her tongue at me when I laughed. Then she laughed. But we found out a little while later that her hip was broken and that was the only time we could trace it back.

She was so funny. She told the stories about me so many times that I seriously cannot remember if the memories are mine or if these just consist of her story about the incident. They feel like mine but it is impossible to tell.

She and my poppy married when my mom was twelve, I think. He loved me unconditionally. He loved my grandmother the same way. I used to think that Mamaw loved me so much because he did.

My memories of summer are tied up with them. I don't know if it is real or not but it seems like I spent a great deal of time with them during the summer.

I still have quilts that she made. There was always a quilting frame hanging from the ceiling in the spare bedroom. I kept quilt pieces that she had cut out and ready to make into another quilt. One day, maybe I will learn how to do it and make the one she started.

A picture of her bowling (at the age of 80 something) sits on my dresser. Not long ago, Mom gave me a locket that belonged to her. I still have an old overnight case – I kept it because it smelled like her for the longest time. I haven't been able to make myself throw it away yet but I doubt it will make the next move with us. I keep my jewelry in a little case that was hers. And I have her sewing machine.

She came to me the night she died. I know she did. At two in the morning, I sat bolt upright, knowing full well that I felt someone put a hand on my leg. I sat very still, listening, scared at first. But then a feeling of peace and love came over me. I lay back down and just before I fell asleep, I thought of her. Mom called early the next morning to tell me that she had left us.

She had a hard life, as many people born in the early part of the 1900's did. But she was tough…and gentle. I loved to hear her laugh. We had a strong, strange bond between us. She always knew when I needed to hear her voice; and I always called just when she needed me to also. Or so it seemed.

I could go on about her for a while. But I will stop now with a Happy Birthday, Mamaw.

 

 

And one more link about it all

 

Check out the Rev. Susan Russell's blog about preoccupation and repentance.

Now…See What I Mean?

Wouldn't you know that right after I post that last blog, I go to Walking with Integrity site and in the list, there is Bishop Marc Andrus. So, in all fairness to my recent gripe, check out his blog - "Pastoral on the Economy 2".

I do want to see more "economic justice" stuff acted upon - an active sense of doing rather than just saying.

Find Bishop Marc's blog here .