The Women of Emmanuel AME

        I took some time to reflect on what has happened in my home town of Charleston last week. I am aware that my experiences growing up there are vastly different than those of many others but I can only speak to my own knowledge with regards to the Gospel. Below is my sermon from this past Sunday in which I recall this lessons I have learned some of the women of Emmanuel AME church. They are some the voices that have form my faith.

Sermon for June 28, 2015: Mark 15: 21-34

        This week’s Gospel brings us the story of the healing of two women. We begin with Jarius, leader of the temple, meeting Jesus immediately because his daughter is sick. Jarius’ fear for his daughter outweighs his own needs. His sets aside his decorum and rules as a leader of the temple to reach out to this healer, even if it may cause him problems later. He is willing to take Jesus into his homes because he believes that Jesus can heal his daughter.

Well, as they are walking to Jarius’ home, the other sick women reaches out to Jesus on the mere chance that she might be healed also. This unnamed woman has been sick for 12 years. In fact she has been bleeding for 12 years. The bleeding makes her unable to enter the temple because she is considered impure, so during the past 12 years she has been considered ritually unclean. She has spent all of her money trying to be healed. She is starving both physically and spiritually and she has no means to care for herself financially. She takes this opportunity to brave and daring in the hopes that she may be healed by touching Jesus. She is able to be this brave because she doesn’t have the luxury of fear. She’s already lost everything. So she takes the chance at being made whole by reaching out and touching Jesus as he walks by.

       Jesus is aware that he has been touched the very instant that she is healed. What always amazes me about these stories of healing is that is each instance Jesus wants to engage with those who believe in his ability to heal. He calls out to the crowd to discover who touched him for healing. Now this anonymous woman was already healed and she had no reason to return. Of course now that she knows she is healed, she begins to be afraid but she knows that the truth must be told. She know that this relationship that Jesus is asking for require that she set aside her new found fear and reveal that she was the one who reached out to him for healing. To her surprise, her admission is met with love and affirmation that her faith is how she was healed.

        In the meantime, someone arrives to tell Jarius that his daughter has died. Instead of being dissuaded by this news, Jesus reminds Jarius not to give into fear but to continue to believe. Jesus arrives at Jarius’ home at exactly the right moment to save the young girl. Jesus arrives at the right time for both these women and I can’t help but think about when Jesus has shown up for me at exactly the right time. Often I didn’t realize that Jesus was there or that it was the right moment until much later.

       The events in Charleston, this last week gave me an opportunity to reflect on how Jesus had been revealed to me. Most of you know that I grew up in Charleston so this week has been extremely difficult. I know that this congregation understands how deeply a tragedy like the shootings at Emmanuel AME or like the ones here in the past few years can affect a community. I have been thinking of the women of Emmanuel that I know and love.

       My middle school is across the street from Emmanuel AME church. I spent 6th, 7th and 8th grade gazing out the window at the huge white edifice of the church. When we learned about Denmark Vesey in Ms. Fike’s history class, we didn’t need to look at the pictures in the book because we just walked across the street. Emmanuel opened their doors to us when the school received bomb threats so that the students were not in the rain and we could continue our lessons in the pews. One of my closest friends in middle school was a member of Emmanuel. K’Lani’s mother was an elder and a deacon in the church and I thought that was the coolest thing. We talked about church a lot because we had that in common. I remember asking K’lani about when she thought we should pray and she said “when we breathe.

       After college, I returned to Charleston and worked in hotel management. Many of the women who worked with me were members of Emmanuel. These women taught me so much and in looking back I realize that in them Jesus was there at exactly the right moment.

        Though their actions, these women taught me that I am a blessed child of God. They taught me that we are each a blessed child of God.

       These women taught me to take pride in what I was doing no matter the task. They taught me this not only with the questions they asked me but also in their own actions. Whether it was making beds, cleaning bathrooms, writing the schedule or balancing the department budget, I learned quickly that I was to give my best effort at each and every task.
     
      They taught me what it means to be a Christian in my everyday life. I learned about God in my own church but it was easy to keep those lessons confined to Sunday morning. The women of Emmanuel with whom I worked, carried Jesus with them every day. They showed me how to carry Jesus with me out into the world every minute of every day. The halls and offices of the Mills House were filled with singing, praying and talking to Jesus.

       It is because of these women that I came to truly understand my Baptismal Convenant. You see the promise we make or that are made on our behalf are not meant for large gesture but it is about how we live out our daily lives. I began working at the Mills House when I was 22 and like most 22 year olds, I made some unwise decision. I would sometimes stay out way too late one night and then have to be at work by 7am the next morning. Not sleeping enough made me grumpy and not quite ready to say good morning or speak to anyone when I arrived. I quickly learned that my moods were not an excuse to ignore another person. I learned that it is in the smallest actions such saying good morning to each person I saw and listening to how their day was that I was honoring them as a child of God. Every interaction with another person was an opportunity to honor their dignity and an opportunity to see god reveal through them.

       I learned to apologize when I had offended someone. I was taught that children say they are sorry but don’t change their behavior but Christians apologize and change. I learned that intention do not matter when you have hurt someone or sinned against them because the offence belongs to the offended. More importantly, these women never allowed me to remain in the dark about how I had offended. They were honest and forth right with me so that I could change how I interacted with each of them. They also expected the same respect from me. They expected me to be honest and forthright with them so that hurts did not grow in the dark. By bringing our hurts forward into the light, we were able to address them and forgive one another.

      Forgiveness and Grace are the most important thing I learned about from the group of women. They forgave me often and taught me well. They forgave me of the smallest missteps and the offensive things that I unknowingly said and did.

Photo taken from: http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnnnext/dam/assets/150622181014-unity-march-charleston-0621-super-169.jpg

      Finally, they taught me not to be afraid. They trusted me in the position I was given regardless of my age. They honor the authority of my position and yet kept me humble. They taught me never to be afraid of my faith or my relationship with Jesus because he is the source of my strength.

      I was privileged to learn from the women of faith but I must be honest with you today. These women would never have engaged me in the discussion we had, if we hadn’t taken the time to build a relationship. It is because they knew I was a Christian that they held me to a higher standard. It is because we shared a faith in Jesus Christ that we were able to reach a point where we trusted one another enough to hold each other accountable for our actions, to tell one another the truth, and to forgive one another even the smallest infractions.

     I am not surprised by the response of the families of those killed or by the support and love the city of Charleston has demonstrated. The women of Emmanuel AME have taught the children of Charleston of all ages, whether it is in their homes as nannies, around the table as friends or even as co-workers with shared experiences.

     I pray that as a country we can begin to build relationships with one another that are built on the truth. You see just as the anonymous woman who was healed in Gospel today, we will never be made whole until we are willing to engage in honest, loving and truth filled discussions about our brokenness. I don’t mean force conferences were we “discuss” race. They required events so often lead to anger and misunderstanding rather than listening and enlightenment. It is only when the truth is spoken and heard that we will be able to be made whole. We have always been a broken country and until our personal relationship are founded on truth, forgiveness and love. We must be prepared that the truth will be painful and uncomfortable but necessary.

      So I know that none of this healing happens without Jesus and the Grace we have already been given. It is only when we breathe that we can begin to be made whole.

Surviving Means Death

I spent the last few years in survival mode. I was a full time student, a relatively new wife and a brand new mommy.  I’m not complaining because those are all wonderful and amazing things that I had the privilege of becoming. I loved the adventure of being a graduate student in seminary and moving to a new place with my husband and baby. What I didn’t realize is that I wouldn’t pause long enough to enjoy it. Somewhere in the midst of studying, working, caring for a baby and commuting, we switched to surviving our life.

The problem is when you are in survival mode everything is a challenge. You stop seeing the joy of the simple moments, like when you have the time to be together and play in the leaves or when you young child begins to develop his own personality. You know that these moments are happening but stopping to reflect and enjoy the moment just doesn’t happen.  

 A few years ago I began this blog as an effort to reflect more on my life and at times it worked but then I got busy again. Survival mode once again! It seemed to me that I was in this crazy cycle of racing to the finish and never pausing to enjoy how I was getting there.

Well I’m done with surviving, it’s time to live. If we don’t starting living we are going to die. I know that sounds like a stupid statement but when you go into survival mode you stop connecting with those around you and relationships suffer.

I’m going to go on more dates with my husband and find more time to be with him without the kids. This will be a strain on our budget because babysitters are expensive but not knowing one another is more expensive. This is the man I love and the man I promised to spend my life with so I should be sure I know who he is.

I’m going to spend more time with my family. The boys and I are going to cook more cookies and have more field trips.  Once again, I know that some of these activities will have some costs attached to them but we need to do some of these things together to begin building memories. They also give us time to get to know one another outside of an ordinary day when we are often jumping from one thing to the next.

I have decided that I cannot afford to survive right now. I quit! The health of my family, both now and in the future, depends on our living our shared life to the fullest.

As I’m writing this I can’t help but think that churches often to the same thing. Many Episcopal Churches have switched over to survival mode and I don’t think they realize it. The money in the plate is less and people aren’t engaging in the same way as they did in the past so parishes get nervous and scared. This is understandable but when this fear leads parishes to switch to survival mode rather than living fully into our calling as Christians, a parish begins to die.

I get it there aren’t many funds to go around and Sunday morning looks different but that is when we are supposed to put our trust in God and take risks. Our job is to spread the Gospel regardless of how much we have to spend. When you are in survival mode, you lose your focus and purpose, believe me I know! I’ve been there! I know that the budget is tight and that you feel like your robbing Peter to pay Paul . . .

The future of your congregation is dependent upon you having a mission and a focus. It’s about showing God to your community by showing them how Jesus wants us to live life together. What does your community need? Not what does your church need but what are the needs of those around you! Start there?

In towns where the economy is poor and the industry is leaving, perhaps you can begin a retraining program at your church. Help those who can get jobs to complete their GED or learn about the skills they need to move into another job. Teach them how the skills, they already have can be used in other fields jobs with a little extra training.

In communities with a high homeless rate, discuss what these men, women and children need most. Sometimes it is childcare so that parents can work to be able to pay rent. Child care for these families is not limit to normal business hours because often the jobs that are available are not 9-5. Perhaps it is a space where adults can come, get cleaned up, wash clothes and have a meal before they go to an interview or even into work. Not all those who are homeless are unemployed.

What if you learn that people just need to make their grocery money go a little further each month so they can provide nutritious food to themselves or their families? Plant a community garden or provide people with the staples like rice, beans, flour sugar, etc. so they can spend their money on fresh food.

If you are in a community that is highly educated, partner with a local restaurant to provide people with a safer space to discuss beliefs and theology. There are so many people who are afraid of the actual church because they have been hurt by the church or because they have never been introduced to church. Give them a place to explore their beliefs that isn’t scary. Invite them to get to know you in one setting and then invited them to join you at church. Some will come and other will remain a part of your community in a different way.

Get out of the church and find out how you can be Christ to your community. There will always be people in need you just have to find out how you can help in your own little way. Walk the street and figure out how you can make your mark on your community.

Don’t do it because you feel like it’s required. Do it because you can’t help it. Do it because when you took the time to reflect on your parish and the mark it is leaving in the community, you discovered that you are surviving. Give yourselves permission to take even the smallest risk to engage with those who don’t look like you but who are hungry to be part of something bigger than themselves.

None of us wants to be in survival mode. It’s not fun, it’s scary, and it's just plain exhausting. Take a risk, this Advent, be vulnerable to one another and to those around you. Take a risk to live, to enjoy life and to show others God and to see God in those around you.

As BB (my three year old) says “Be Brave and Roar, Mommy!” Make some noise, shake things up and stop trying to survive!

LIVE!

Ontological, what?

        Seminary changes you. I can’t explain how because each person is very different but it does. If you are married and arrive with a family, it changes your family. This change may mess with your solid and unchangeable beliefs. Change shakes things up and makes you questions or it may be as simple as changing how you approach another person who is in pain. The change happens while you aren’t looking and while you think you are just jumping through hoops, so to speak.  It happens in class, at internship and in learning how to juggle more schedules than any one family should have.These changes can be painful but it is good. I knew this was going to happen because change is the one constant in our lives

I was prepared to be changed slowly over time but I wasn’t prepared for how I would change as a result of my ordination. We are told in seminary that we will be ontologically changed with our ordination. This is a fancy way of saying that our very being with change with the vows that we take at ordination. As students, we sometimes joke about it because it is a difficult thing to wrap your mind around.

        How can this one act change my very being? It doesn’t in one fell swoop but we are changed and we can’t deny that change. The biggest change is how others view us, at least in the beginning.

         I’m getting used to the double takes that I get when I walk around Blacksburg wearing my collar. Granted the clerical collar is definitely a fashion statement that one cannot escape. Pair the collar with my eight month pregnant belly and I’m sure you can imagine the looks of shock and the double takes, I get on the street. I get a good chuckle to myself anytime someone around me is staring in amazement. I look forward to the time when someone will ask me about my collar and why I wear it but for now I’ll just chuckle to myself.

          Last Thursday I was the one doing a double take. I stopped by the bank after work. I forgot that I was wearing my collar. At the end of my transaction, the bank teller smiled and said to me, “Have a great day, Rev. Emily.” I was shocked and I actually looked behind me to see to whom she was talking. I wasn't prepared to be recognized by someone as clergy. I know that The Reverend is part of my official title, I just wasn't expecting someone outside of my parish to use it.  I know it shouldn't surprise me but it did. I know it won't be the last time but wow my name still sounds funny to me when it follows a title.

          What really surprised me, after the initial shock of hearing myself referred to as Rev. Emily was my own awareness of what that meant. I thought long and hard about how I had behaved and if I had treated her with dignity and respect because I saw Christ in her. I became acutely aware of how my actions when I'm wearing my collar with not only represent me but also the church. More important than the church, I became aware that my actions even in the most casual interactions may be one of the few experiences of the church and of God that those around me may have on a given day. Suddenly, my Baptismal Covenant is more present in my day to day interaction than I ever realized it would be. It must be at the front of my mind at all times. I think this is true of all Christians but I am now aware that the "uniform" will define me more than I realized.

          It is a humbling experience!

God's Listening Ears

                Last Sunday, BB and I found ourselves blessed with a more time together than we normally get on my busiest day of the week. I discovered that I had time to not only read him a quick story in my office but we were able to walk down the street for a hot chocolate.  This was definitely a gift from God. I was out of town earlier in the week and we had not been able to spend any real time together. BB and I need our time together, just like he needs time with my husband also. While I try to carve out that time often, last week it just didn’t happen.

            BB selected the story of Adam and Eve being tossed out of the garden as his story on Sunday. This version came from a small children’s Bible that we borrowed. I read the story and then he asks “What’s disobey?” I launch into a much too long explanation of the word disobey. BB looks at me and says “They did not have on their listening ears, Mommy.” Fair enough, Buddy. You are correct if you disobey it is usually because you do not have on your listening ears. He then goes on to explain that because Adam and Eve did not have their listening ears on, God sent them to time out. I laugh because we are still in time out technically.

            Mostly I am amazed by BB’s synopsis of The Fall. He was able to explain what cause mankind to be taken out of the Garden of Eden better than many theologians. Way to go kid!

            After we had finished the story, we pile on our coats and get ready for our adventure. I remind BB that he needs to listen to me as we walk down to the coffee shop. We would be crossing streets and he needed to have his listening ears on. BB’s head pops up and he says “My listening ears, like God.”

            “Yes, BB like God.”

            “Mommy, God always wear his listening ears.”

            Thank you for the reminder that anytime I need God to be listening, it will happen. There's nothing like having your child remind of what you have always known but sometimes forget. I think sometimes this is why God gave me gift in BB. Other time it is less apparent but it's still there.

My New Found Obsession

I’m taking back control.  I don’t mean that I have this great desire to make sure everything is ship shape and line up exactly in my life but I’m going to control it.

Often in the process becoming an Episcopal priest, I have felt like I have no control of anything in my life. I must fulfill the expectations of the Seminary, the Diocese, and the National Church and not all of these expectations line up. It is a challenge to figure out who gets priority when the calendars don’t match up and now I have to add an individual parish’s calendar to the other three. Plus as all wives and mothers know there is the family calendar, the husband calendar and the preschool calendar to navigate also.

I know that in many ways I’m preaching to the choir because we all have to navigate who gets our time. It’s not a problem but a challenge and an opportunity for me and my husband to work this out. Every couple does this and every professional is responsible to more than one boss at some point in their careers. In addition, toddler can’t read the calendar so they are often on an entirely different schedule than the rest of the universe.

The problem for me is I felt my time with God has been overcome by these other calendars and expectations. For some people this may not seem like a big deal but I’m studying to be a priest and how can I lead other to discover God in their own lives when I feel like I haven’t spend much time with God myself.

So I’m taking back control . . .

I created a Rule of Life Log. Now, you have to know that things are bad when I need a chart, list or schedule for myself. I don’t like them, in fact I only write lists when things feel out of control and crazy.

A Rule of Life is meant to order your spiritual practices so that you can have an honest relationship with God and I wasn’t sure how I was participating. Yikes!

I wanted to be sure that I hit on the following areas every day: Daily Prayer, Scripture Reading, Spiritual Writings, Worship (Corporate) and Quiet Time. Some are easier than others but the most important thing is to recognize when it is happening.

It’s not that I haven’t been doing these things often it’s just that I can’t remember doing them and I think that’s a problem. Before we had a child, my husband and I had a pretty set routine so that we could both get what we needed during the day. This meant that early in the morning I would have a time to read scripture, pray and just be quiet in God’s presence.

Being Quiet in the Presence of God is not on the toddler’s agenda. Apparently, BB didn’t get the memo and he is a morning person like his Mommy. Don’t get me wrong BB is great a reminding me to be joyful in the presence of God. We sing praise song, we dance and we laugh just because it’s a new day but quiet did not make the short list of morning activities. So I found myself desperate to find a place and a time to carry out my Rule of Life. This was not the easiest task and I’m afraid that I failed miserably. 

The purpose of having a Rule of Life is to weave your faith and spiritual practice into your daily life so that you are able to recognize God’s presence at any moment. It’s about craving out a space to just be with God so that you know that God is walking this journey called life with you. It only works if you do it and if you can remember doing it, hence my little log.

The funny thing is that as I have been filling in the log I discovered that I had begun to carve out those moments in the day with more intentionality than before. I have never stopped praying but now I am marking some of those moments by what type of prayers I find myself saying. I have attended some form of corporate worship almost every day during seminary but now I am seeking out those services that will mean the most to me. I have made a decision to read the Bible again straight through. (I know Thomas Cranmer is proud.) Spiritual Writing is my fun category because either I read other people’s writings or I write on my own.

Mostly I have fallen back in love with God through our daily date. (It is ironic that this has happened because I have fallen back in love with my husband again and again because of a date night.) It is during these quiet moments that I have been able to be totally and completely free with God because I can focus on God alone and not have to worry about the dishes, the groceries or my next paper.

I have also found because I am “forcing” myself to make time for these moments with God that I have more time for everything else. It is a right ordering that is allowing me freedom.  

My need to control things has set me free so that I don’t have to be in control and I can relax and just be the person God created me to be.

My prayer today is that I remember this and that this new found freedom seeps over into the rest of my life so other can see the true me again.

Where We Belong

This is my sermon from last week reflecting on the beginning of school.

It is based on Psalm 71: 1-6. Let me know what you think.

Welcome back to school . . .

Picture from: http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=pictures+of+school+buses+from+the+side&id=0820D4C35C

In you, O Lord, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame.
In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me.

Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.
Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked, from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.

For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O Lord, from my youth.

Upon you I have leaned from my birth; it was you who took me from my mother’s womb. My praise is continually of you.

Psalm 71: 1-6
 

            The year is 1983 and I stood at the edge of our driveway looking at the very long slope towards the street in my new smocked dress and new white sandals. I had a new blue backpack with my initials embroidered on the back that was filled with 2 newly sharpened really fat pencils, a new 8 pack of Crayola crayons, take a moment and remember what a new box of crayons smells, and a black and white composition notebook.  I headed down the driveway and walked past the 5 houses between me and elementary school. I entered the school and met my first grade teacher. I was excited and then I met my teacher. She didn’t seem mean or scary but she was not my mommy and my world had been upended.

            Twelve years later I was standing in the driveway of Allen Hall at the University of Illinois saying goodbye to my parents. We had unloaded the boxes of clothes, notebooks and new pencils and they prepared to drive the across 5 states without me this time. My daddy pulled me aside. As he was hugging me goodbye he said “I’m not sure how you became this amazing young woman. I’m just getting over you walking to first grade.” I pulled away and started laughing. His response was “What it was a very long street!” Now mind you, I never had to cross the street and it was only 5 houses down but to my father I could have been crossing the Chesapeake when I was six.

            It wasn’t until we had left Lynchburg for Virginia Theological Seminary that I truly understood what my father was trying to explain to me in front of the dorm at his own Alma Mater.  My parents and I had become used to the way things were within our own family. And Chris, Ian and I were firmly oriented in our daily lives here in Lynchburg. The move to seminary and beginning seminary certainly left us feeling lost and uprooted. It was difficult for us to find our way back to the way things were supposed to be. For me, dropping Ian off at the on campus daycare for the first time was amazingly unsettling. I was at a loss of how that little tiny eight month old, who could already walk, was going to survive the next 3 hours ­­without me. The daily rhythm of our lives had been disturbed even though I only had to walk over and visit him at any time. I can’t even to begin to imagine how I will be when I put Ian on the bus or allow him to walk 5 houses away by himself to 1st grade.

        At the beginning of each school year I watch parents put what is most precious to them on the bus and send them to the care of others for their education. Those teachers and administrators do amazing jobs of guiding our children though the next set of hurdles in their lives. But the hard part for most parents is that we feel like it should be us and the unknown can be exciting and a little bit scary for each student in every stage of life, whether they are beginning first grade, seminary, first job or retirement.  

           Every year, thousands of parents send their children off for the first time and every year thousands of children begin new adventure into the unknown. Many may feel as though they as if they have been abandoned to the evils of the world . . .

           The unknown is scary and it is not always safe but it is necessary for us to move on to our next destination.  The Israelites had to leave Egypt in order to reach the promise land and we know they got lost and wandered for 40 years. They were afraid and complained the entire journey and yet they reached their destination. Whenever we leave our comfort zone and our knowledge of how the perfect world should be we take to risk that we may go the wrong direction and get lost.  We get disoriented, lost, our world is upended and we are unable to fight off the evils of the world alone. Fortunately the psalmist has provided us with a form that instructs us on what we are to do when we are in trouble and facing the evils of this world.

           For the psalmist, the only answer to this disorientation is to be with God. God is the safe place where we return again and again when we face trouble. The strong unyielding image of a fortress that stands alone against all evil reminds us of God steadfast desire to encircle us and protect us from the wild beyond the walls. Likewise a mother’s womb is the safest place for a baby to be and there are few moments of disorientation more profound than a baby just after they are born and before they are lying in their mother’s arms. The psalm reminds us that God has made even that journey with us. We are meant to be with God and this lament plants us firmly back in relationship with God.

            We have sung these words today together because none of us is ever alone in our distress. This very personal lament is not prayed just here at St. John’s but also in every other church in the world that follows the Lectionary. They all pray these same words with us today and if we are truly honest we remember that we pray these very personal words that were given by the psalmist to Israel. We pray with Israel and all who have been given the psalms as part of their own tradition.

            In the Hebrew faith, Rabbis speak of the prophets and the Tribes of Israel in the present tense acknowledging that the prayers and concerns of all the witnesses are lifted together in unison. For me, this is a great comfort, my distress is not experienced alone and I am not the first or the only to experience disorientation or to get lost. I have a multitude of examples of those who have lost their way, many while trying to live into their callings. And yet the formula for finding my way again remains the same, Return to God when we are in trouble. Back again to where we are safest.

            We are not the first parents to send our children out into the world. We are not they first to mourn and celebrate life’s transitions. We are not the first kids to walk down the street to first grade or to be dropped off at college. We will get lost but we must remember that contrary to the old adage, we can go home. The formula requires us to return to God when we are lost and we do this together again and again. As parents we will open our arms and welcome our children home, where they can be re-oriented, so they can leave again. God also continues to welcome them and us back into his presence and the safety of his embrace. And for that we offer continual praise.

The Perfect Mother?

        I have a very difficult time with our image of Mary the Blessed Virgin and I have to preach about her next week. I decided to re-post this entry form March 2012. I would really like some feedback as I begin to write my sermon for next week. Thanks: 

         After this week and a half of a sick child, exams and papers; I have been thinking a lot about Mary, the mother of Jesus. In January I was taking a class with a brother from the Society of St. John the Evangelist on spiritual direction. It was a wonderful class but it was during a week when BB was sick. He was not allowed in day care and my husband had to return to work. I was juggling being a student and caring for the child who was in class with me. My classmates were wonderful and the brother was very gracious and truly made BB welcomed.    

         He stated that Mary was a wonderful example of contemplative life because "Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19). I thought "That's a lie." And then I realized that my thoughts were being said aloud. I was being asked to comment on them. I heard Winnie the Pooh's voice saying "Oh dear!" in my head. 

          So here is my reasoning . . . Mary has been held up as the example for all women throughout the ages. She's so perfect and Mary Magdalene is such a "sinner." These teachings have been used a a means to control women through the generations. By holding up this one line from scripture we have set the bar for women entirely too high. If a mother shows a passion, anger or frustration about or towards he child, she is a bad mother. Not that anyone in society would tell her that but she has internalized this message from the time she sat in the pews with her parents. Every Christmas pageant show a young beautiful Mary who is happy to have given birth in a barn and was even happier to have all that company. I don't know about anyone else who has given birth but I did not want to have a lot of company after BB was born, especially strange men bringing farm animals and really expensive stuff, that I don't need.              

             I don't think I would sit quietly if my child was given a present that predicts his death and I know that I wouldn't calmly travel to Egypt as other women lost their sons to protect mine. I wouldn't sit by and accept that my son would cause me great pain and suffering because He is the world's salvation. I would definitely argue with God all the time and very very loudly. 

            I wouldn't quietly accept the idea that God had chosen me to be the mother of His Son without arguing. Get real. I'm going to be a fallen women and I might be killed because I'm a loose women. I think I would argue and maybe I would finally say yes but I"m not so sure. I would definitely have a stronger reaction than "Blessed am I among women."                        

             Come on, it took me ten years to answer God's call for me to go to seminary and that happened before I had a family . . .                           

             We need to stop de-humanizing the characters in the Bible, in particular Mary. If Christ is truly human and God as we state in the Creeds then we must acknowledge that faults that He and his mother had. Holding her up as the icon of womanly perfection is ridiculous. if she is perfect then she must be perfect because of her passion and love for her son. it must be because she experienced more than anyone's share of the joy, pain and frustrations of motherhood. She did it out loud with all the vigor that we have heard from our own mothers. 

                She did not sit quietly and wait for things to be done to her and to her family. I sure that the writers of the Gospels would like to image their wives and daughters behaving calmly and serenely at all times but we all know that is not reality. I need Mary to be real and human. Or perhaps it is, as my friend Elizabeth says, that many people interpret Mary to be a flat character when she's not.

            Regardless, if we dehumanize her actions, then we de-humanize her Son, Our God and Savior.