The world is not my home

I gave ministry this week towards the end of worship. It had been a popcorn meeting, with insufficient space between political rants about the debt ceiling. But I was called to stand, to add one more voice to the mix before we rose.

I was thinking about home as meeting for worship began. Specifically, I was thinking about how I feel like an outsider in most places in my life. There are a couple of songs that reference the idea that home is something that comes after that rose up for me, one being a Sarah Jarosz cover of a Tom Waits tune, "Come on up to the house", which has the line: "The world is not my home, I'm just passing though". Another was Amazing Grace, with the stanza:

Through many dangers, toils, and snares
have I already come.
'Twas Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace shall lead me home.

It's not that uncommon to think about home as being elsewhere, and for me, that sense of home is located pretty firmly in the New Creation. When I was recounting my ministry last night to a friend who had missed Meeting on Sunday, but had heard that I had spoken and asked me about it, I needed to clarify what I meant by the New Creation. What I'm referencing here is a passage from Fox's journal:

Now I was come up in spirit through the flaming sword, into the paradise of God. All things were new; and all the creation gave unto me another smell than before, beyond what words can utter. I knew nothing but pureness, and innocency, and righteousness; being renewed into the image of God by Christ Jesus, to the state of Adam, which he was in before he fell. The creation was opened to me; and it was showed me how all things had their names given them according to their nature and virtue.

Fox had this experience of the paradise of God, of being taken up into the Garden of Eden as it was before the fall. My sense of this is that this is the Kingdom of Heaven and that we can access the Kingdom, through Grace, here on Earth.

My message continued, that as I was sitting in the silence, I was thinking about how I find that those times when I have been permitted to glimpse this paradise, this sense of rightness and pureness are when I have been submissive and obedient to the will of God.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I asked God to give me something to do and almost immediately, it was made clear to me that a small task that was already on my to-do list was a Thing I Needed To Do. Knowing that I had a small, manageable, actionable Thing, as well as knowing that God was listening to me in my time of need made me feel incredible grateful for His Love, for His Presence in my life.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Rapture: The Kingdom of God

Instead of posting this on the 21st as Elizabeth Bathhurst and I had planned it is a day late. I was busy getting ready for my party (dressing as the Whore of Babylon and being drunk). But I hope you will enjoy it anyway despite the fact I am a Class A Sinner.

I first heard about Family Radio’s May 21st predictions for Judgment day at a bar. I had not yet seen the billboards, bus signs, or internet buzz. A week later at the same bar I was talking with some friends when it was decided that I should have a “Rapture Party” and Housewarming. When I sent out the invite I invited people to dress as something out of the book of Revelations. My friends complained, “You aren’t going to make me read the Bible are you?” “What are you going as?”

I have been collecting information on the May 21st doomsday. I find it all very amusing. From pet care sites, (animals not having souls and all, which if you have met my cats I am pretty sure that is a lie), to wondering what it is to believe something so fervently. After reading more about what those who believe today is doomsday believe will happen, I have decided that there are some things I need to consider:

1. If the Pacific Rim is where it is starting, I need to check the news about 2 am EST—just to be sure.

2. What would the next few months until Sept 21st be like—do I have to go to work?

3. Should I start my party early so we can watch the good people getting raptured and thus know which houses to visit—one of the advantages of living on the edge of a prosperous neighborhood.

The realization that these are my main concerns about the rapture led me to believe that maybe I should not go to my party as “the Beast” but rather the “Whore of Babylon” which is probably a better fit anyway. This is not to say that I truly consider myself a horrible person, just that I am too skeptical to be one of the believers that gets to go to heaven. While I have come to terms with being convinced in Quaker terms, I have a real problem with believing that Jesus Christ is my personal savior. It is between God and I, no one can save me but me through my belief in God.

Like early Friends I believe the Second Coming is now. All we need to do is work towards building the Kingdom of God here on Earth, why wait for just desserts when we can build something amazing here and now? Why worry about heaven or hell, intellectual worries, when we can be building something beautiful and amazing right now with the life we have been given?

Thus, in the context of believers of the May 21st doomsday, righteous Believers, and most Christians, I guess I am just the Whore of Babylon with my cynical views, personal interpretations of Christianity, and cup of abominations and fornication. But really, I am a reluctant and radical Christian.

I walk the line

Where do you draw the line at christian charity, that of god in others, and safety? As a single woman in this day and age this is a question I have wrestled with before. However, in the last few months I have been presented with several instances where I have had to make those decisions immediately.

I worship with a small group of Friends in the heart of Baltimore's inner-city. One First Day in April, I knew that several of our regular attenders would not be coming to Meeting. It was a weird day were the Evangelical Black Church that meets in the same space as us was having an extra long service. As a result we had to meet in the class room building nearby. I placed a sign on the door of the Meetinghouse, and went to meet with the leader of the NA meeting that was finishing up in the class room building to make sure I knew how to lock up the building. It was a nice cool spring day. I decided to wait outside to make sure anyone coming to meeting would not be confused by the locale change. One of the guys from NA stayed around. He seemed to be carrying on a full-blown conversation with someone only he could see. I had a feeling he and his friends did not have anywhere to go.

I waited outside for about 25 minutes, no one showed. I went into the classroom building to read and optimistically hope someone would show up to worship. The building is older, and has few windows, even fewer people walk by it or come in during the weekend. It is very secluded in its own way. The man from NA came in and sat in the back, I figured he was as cold as I was and he seemed to know I was waiting for other church members. I figured he seemed pretty harmless. We sat in silence, with his occasional mutterings to his friends. Another man entered with some take out food from a chicken place nearby. He made himself comfortable at one of the tables and asked what we were doing. I explained that I was waiting for people from my worship group. He started talking about his divorce, but it was in that way to say, "I am single and you are pretty." It was getting close to an hour of waiting. The man finished his food and began to ask me questions about myself. I continued to talk about the worship group. I was getting increasingly uneasy.

I texted "Elizabeth Bathurst", asking where the line was between christian charity and safety. She replied, "where three are gathered in my name…." but then added that if I was uncomfortable I should leave. Part of me was rather irritated with our regular attenders, no one had showed up and I was alone in a situation such as this. That there is an expectation that since I am "clerk" I have to show up every week and they can show up as they choose. That as a result of this I as now alone in what could be a dangerous situation, though, thus far it was fine.
I decided to ask the guys in the building with me if they wanted to learn more about Quakers and perhaps participate in Worship together. They both said no and both got out of the building pretty fast after that. I had a twinge of guilt for putting the guy from NA out on the street, but I also couldn't just sit there all night.

Maybe this was an opportunity to minister to these men and I did not follow through due to my own fears of being alone with strange men in a secluded building. Does this make me a bad Christian? Or am I a bad Christian, because I decided to go to my favorite bar/restaraunt for dinner and a drink afterward?

This weekend I had the strangest day I had in Baltimore in a long time. I walked by a man twice, we said hi both times. The second time he noticed my tattoo and suddenly we were engaged in a rather deep conversation about spirituality. He was homeless. Though he made a comment about how men with men made him uncomfortable and half of our attenders are gay, I invited him to worship. Should he ever find himself down that way on a Sunday afternoon. He seemed like he wanted to have more discussions about how the spirit manifests. I felt like the cosmos were testing me. However, then he started telling me how he could fall in love with me. Why does it always devolve into that? Kindness is often mistaken as weakness or as sexual invitation.
So now what do I do if he comes to Meeting? And what do I do if I am in a situation where it is just he and I in Meeting? Do I assume that God has my back? How does one tread that line of Christian love and charity, finding that of God in others, and staying safe?

On identifying as Christian.

I was having dinner with a friend of mine and his lovely finance last night and the topic turned to identifying as Christian. J's fiance is uncomfortable with the label at the moment, partially because of the sordid history of Christianity, partially because she's no longer what her Southern Baptist mother considers a Christian and partially because she's still mulling over where she stands theologically.

I was once in her shoes, somewhat. I haven't always been comfortable calling myself a Christian, but I am now. Two things changed. The first is that I became more comfortable with using Christian language to describe my experience. The second is that my experience with the Living Christ became less antagonistic.

I am still uncomfortable with some of the things that have been done in the name of Christianity. I don't like the way some people who identify as Christian behave now, or have over the history of Christendom. But for me, identifying as a Christian isn't about identifying with a group of other people, it's about identifying myself with Christ. I am a Christian because I have a personal relationship with Christ Jesus.

But that begs the question of why bother identifying as anything at all. I mean, if it's just between me and Jesus, what's the point? The point is evangelism. (Did I just write that?) The point is letting people know that Jesus is the reason that I do my best to live with integrity, obedience and intentionality.

St. Francis is credited with saying that one should preach without ceasing and use words when necessary. I believe that one's life is the greatest ministry one can have, but that without identifying that life as a Christian life, you can lose the message of Divine Love and Forgiveness.

This is not to say that Christianity is the only way to be faithful to the Divine. This is to say that the Love of God through Christ is a miraculous, beautiful thing and need not be hidden. There may well be many paths up the mountain, but the Christian path I'm on has a great view.

I am a Christian and I am not ashamed or conflicted about it. A little weirded out by the realization that I seem to be promoting evangelism, but perfectly comfortable with being a Christian. Christ is at the center of my life and letting people know seems right to me.

Love,
Elizabeth

I believe in miracles

A couple of weeks ago my First Day School class was talking about some stories of healing from the books of Matthew and Mark. We had to take a break at one point to discuss the differences between the old and new testament. You know, Jesus is in the new testament, which was written after the old testament. We also had to stop and talk about Jesus' teachings about the Sabbath and what they have to do with Bud Selig and the steroid scandal. They weren't able to convince me that it was an apt metaphor. 

And as much as they tried the kids also couldn't convince me that Jesus was just a dude. They were pretty much in agreement that He couldn't actually do all that healing stuff. And that nonsense about how it's your faith that heals you is really condescending because that means that if you're paralyzed then your faith isn't strong enough to make you better.

I find this such a sad world view. As someone who struggles with mental illness, the kind of mental illness that requires multiple daily medications, weekly therapy and the occasional hospitalization, I don't believe that my lack of healing is due to a weakness of faith. In fact, it's my faith that gives me the strength to keep fighting especially in times like these when the going gets pretty rough. I believe that my experiences on earth and my physical body are fairly unimportant. I believe that my soul and my relationship with God are far more important. Sure, it'd be great if God would relieve my suffering and balance the chemicals in my head for me. If he'd cure my aunt's breast cancer, that'd be pretty rad too. But I'd rather be right with God than right in the head. Knowing that I'm right with God brings me great comfort.

Here's what I think about the stories of healing: I'm buying it. I believe that Jesus was able to heal people. I think that being able to work miracles was an important part of getting people's attention. He had amazing things to say about the way things are and the way they should be and he got people's attention by doing amazing things while he was on earth in a corporeal form. And even if the stories about healing aren't literally true, I think that the messages about faith and forgiveness are so true and so important that I'm not concerned about whether or not touching the hem of His garment might actually cure leprosy or a hemorrhage or HIV.

Maybe they aren't ready to really think about miracles and healing and forgiveness. I'm pretty sure I wasn't at that age either. On the other hand, there was no throwing of graham crackers that week and that's a little miracle in and of itself. 

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Won't you be my neighbor?

I'm teaching the parables of Jesus to my junior high first day school class this trimester and hopefully, you'll be seeing more posts like this as I prep my lessons.

And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life? (Luke 10:25)

Why do people keep asking Jesus this question? Seriously. Lawyer-Guy is all; "What do I need to do to get a cookie? I don't want to clean my room. What if I just make my bed? Is that enough to get a cookie?"

I'd be tempted to tell the guy to just shut up already. If I were to come face to face with someone who I thought had all the answers, I wouldn't be asking him about cookies. Fact of the matter is, I've got access to Jesus (and so do you!) and I've never asked Him about what I need to do to get into heaven.

I've asked "What do you want me to do?" and "Is this okay?" and in fits of anger and despair I've been known to ask "why me?" but I really don't care about heaven. I am willing to believe that God is always just and often merciful and therefore I can trust that I'll deserve whatever comes next. What it is exactly doesn't interest me all that much. Let's get back to the story.

When the lawyer dude who is harassing Jesus this time about his cookie asks for a little clarification about who his neighbors are, Jesus responds with the whole half-dead guy in the ditch story we've heard a million times. You know, some dude passes by, then some other dude passes by, and then this other dude, one of an ethnic group everybody looks down on 'cause they're smelly stops to help out and even pays for the half-dead guy to stay in the motel 6.

But wait. Jesus ends the story with a question:

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?
And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise. (Luke 10:36-37)

Sounds to me like Jesus isn't just telling us that we need to be kind and loving towards everyone (not just our in-group, our literal neighbors, our friends). Seems to me that Jesus is actively shaming our little cookie-seeking lawyer by telling a story about someone who had call to be selective in defining who his neighbors were not only not trying to weasel out of helping others, but actively going out of his way to be kind to a complete stranger in need. I'm going with the shame-on-you version of the story, 'cause I like that Jesus best.

Seeing as my kids really get the whole Yankees/Red Sox rivalry, I'm probably going to work in the story about how A-Rod once saved a kid from getting hit by a car on Newbury Street. The Yankees might well be the closest thing we've got to Samaritans in Boston.

Isaiah, again.

In times of darkness I return again and again to Isaiah:

Comfort, O comfort my people
speak gently to Jerusalem and cry to her
that she has served her term
that her penance is paid,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins.

Although today is dark and I am not where I want to be, I can take comfort that I am not where I once was and that He is with me. Even more, I can take comfort in knowing that I am where he wants me to be. Healing comes slowly, a gradual baptism by fire.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

True sanctification comes slowly, from the Lord's hand, in the Lord's time. We cannot announce that we are ready and claim it for ourselves. We must continually open ourselves to the Holy Silence, again and again, especially when we feel heavy under the weight of our transgressions.

I will be speaking gently to myself this evening, pausing to remember as needed what the Lord's hand feels like on my forehead.

I will run and not grow weary, I will walk and not faint.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

I really suck at online dating...

I've recently signed up for an online dating account and have mentioned Quakerism. This is bringing all sorts of people who were raised Quaker out of the woodwork and has lead to some interesting conversations...

I think that talking about early Quaker theology is incredibly practical. Far too many Friends have forgotten that the peace testimony is a practical application of a cohesive interpretation of Scripture. On one end of the spectrum, my First Day School kids don't know that Jesus appears towards the end of the Bible despite being in junior high. On the other end of the spectrum are Friends who still talk about Jesus all the time, but have almost completely abandoned Quaker theology over the years, primarily to water it down to attract more members. But then again, I actually believe in all that early silliness about Christ coming to teach his people himself. In my many years of doing things with non-conservative friends of both kinds, I find that the lack of theological understanding terminally weakens their understanding of Quaker practices. They have to compensate with enthusiasm, which can draw them ever further from the Source. Their silences are shallower on the whole. Theology is the core of our faith, of any faith really, and continuing revelation is not the same thing as making it up as we go along.

I suppose by "conversations" I mean rants, but whatever. I sent this in an email to someone, but decided that it needed to also be posted here. I imagine that I'll get a better conversation out of the blogging community then out of a stranger who is looking for a date.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Leave that crack alone

Sometimes, people make bad decisions. Really bad decisions. I know of someone who has been making some very bad decisions lately. I find the whole situation upsetting and the details frustrating. How could she be so foolish? What was she thinking? How could she possibly be that stupid and thoughtless? AAAHHHHH!

As I write this, I realize this could actually apply to a lot of different people. From Lindsey Lohan and Nicole Richie to people I actually know to people I deeply care about to people I've never heard of who are nonetheless ruining their lives and the lives of others.

I can't convince any of these people that driving drunk, smoking pot while pregnant, sleeping with someone who doesn't respect you, etc are bad choices. Even if I could talk to them, they certainly wouldn't listen to me. I can't fix these problems but it is incredibly frustrating to see people making mistake after mistake when if they would just listen to me maybe, just maybe, they'd be okay. Not great, but okay.

I imagine that's the level of frustration God has with us. With me. I've make mistakes. I've sinned out of foolishness, out of arrogance, out of anger and fear and he has forgiven me. It's what He does. His mercy is unfathomable and I would do well to remember this a little more often.

The people I'm angry with right now about their stupid decisions for the most part have no idea I'm angry with them. Whether or not I can forgive them is a matter of my own heart and in the grand scheme of things doesn't matter all that much. They are in dire need of His forgiveness, however. It wouldn't hurt if they would listen to their freaking doctors, either.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Intellectual Quakerism: Of birthrights, convincement, and ethnic Quakers

I started this off with the intention of discussing "Birthright" quakers. I really liked what I had read on the post about birthright quakers from Quaker Street (and I would just like to state that sometimes the best conduct comes from convinced Friends). The post itself and the discussion in the comments was very good. I don't actually know that I can add anything. However, it made me recall some of my first days in big league Quaker circles.

As I have stated in several previous posts I grew up in the middle of no-where-Minnesota. I did not attend Meeting regularly till I was 12. And I choose to go to a Quaker College for the community provided and the opportunity to be surrounded by many other young Friends. I had missed out on going to summer camps and retreats and other such important developmental social functions of young Quakers. I mean yea, I had gone to FGC and yearly meeting and FINALLY got to go to some teen retreats, but I just felt like I was missing something.

However, my midwestern conceptual framework of Quakers was challenged when I arrived at college. The scholarship program I had somehow gotten into seemed to be filled with super-Quakers with connections to big names in Quaker circles, related to influential historical figures, and who had grown up Quaker --filled with camps, social circles, and friendships. While it was annoying that some of the people I was meeting in the program had to express that they new this person and that one...the really annoying part was when they would point out how they were related to insert famous name here. And how they were birthright and that their family had been Quaker for ions. It made me feel small, insignificant, and unworldly. I didn't think Quakers would be like that. I didn't know if I was related to famous Quakers, though my mother's side of the family has been Quaker for ions. It wasn't something that was important to my family...we are more of the live your life, let it speak for you kind of family. Not the speak to make your life more important kind. Which is often what happens with Quakers who feel the need to make you constantly aware of their lineage and relative importance (by way of birthrightness and who they are related to). Now, since I am pointing fingers it should probably be said that I consider Birthright to mean that you are born into the care of a meeting...technically, I was. My mother was a member of a meeting and I was born into the care of the meeting...I still have yet to attend said meeting. But I do consider myself Birthright...I don't care if the Society considers me to be one or not. At 16, I had a clearness committee to become a member of my home meeting. So I am Quaker and that is what matters.

Now, what does this have to do with Intellectual Quakerism. Sometimes it appears to me, that convinced friends (or fellow travelers who attend and don't commit) often love the intellectual aspects of what Friends say in our testimonies and other publications and discussions. In fact, they spend time devouring the writings and practices but have difficulty really getting into the practice and Spiritual practices. The theoretical ideals of Quakers are only a layer of the whole. What are Quakers? Are we a sect? A cult? That is sorta what we were considered early on...but we are a Christian sect...take away Christ and we are just a Peculiar People...which may be more like a cult...with no Charismatic leader...Now before, you start to think I am intolerant of those who do not love themselves some Christ...that is hardly the case...but at the peculiar Quaker College...I somehow learned to be a Christian...Perhaps I should start hyphenating my Quakerness as a Christian-Quaker.

But in truth I want to introduce a concept. Ethnically Quaker.

The term is not my own. A friend first used this in my presence at the retreat in Burlington. We used it to discuss how as individuals who come from Quaker stock, have a tendency as young adults we tend to drift away but cannot imagine being anything else. The ethnic Quaker is a term which to me has a softer tone than Birthright...because you are what you are, imbued with certain attributes based on how you were raised. I also don't see the type of person who loves to shove every one's noses in their birthrightness as using the term ethnically Quaker very often. However, I do think that us ethnic Quakers have an ingrained feel of Quakerism. We know when its right or wrong even if we can't tell you what that is. Sometimes I worry that convinced Friends rely too much on the theoretical ideal of Quakerism making it too cerebral when the theoretical underpinnings of Quakerism are only a fraction of the whole. I am not entirely convinced you can know Quakerism until you have truly felt the stirrings of the Spirit of the living God. Because being a minister (as we all are in Quakerism) means feeling the touch of God. The Nudge. The Stirring. The Calling. The Test. But it is a connection to the Spirit of Life, that of God in you and the experiential--unless you get a little mystical, unless you let God in--regardless of what you call it, you won't get Quakerism. It is not purely theoretical.

O, HAI.

I'm headed off to North Carolina for NCYM-C Sessions, where I'll be leading Bible Study on Isaiah, Early Friends and the Christian Gospel. I'm planning to write up some reflections when I get back, but in the meantime I'll leave you all with this image:



Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Love is like rain, Part 2.

once again, this was written a little while ago. I apologize for the delay.

It's another dreary day in Boston. Perhaps the fourth day since we've seen the sun and everyone is getting a little cranky.

Last night, a good friend got engaged. I got word this afternoon that some college classmates are expecting their first child. It's spring and love is in the air.

I'm not immune. In a fit of foolishness, I accepted a date with a lovely man. He's wonderful and bright and everything I would look for in a man, if I were looking.

The first couple of weeks were great. He made excellent conversation and wrote me frequent witty emails. I was smiling and distracted and nothing bothered me all that much.

But last night, things changed. It became clear that things couldn't stay that way forever. It's time to start the unpleasant intimate conversations I'd rather not have. I'm spending too much time thinking about how to tell him x, y, and z when I ought to be doing ten other things. I'm already worried, terrified even of how these conversations will go. I have other things to do. It's not fair that I have to take these things into consideration.

Perhaps my reservations about relationships and love are based entirely in fear. Perhaps I just need to suck it up and hope that there's something comforting and elegant on the other side of this storm. But right now, I can only see fields of mud. I'm already cold and I have no idea if I'll ever be dry and warm again.

I've always taken comfort in the teachings of Christ about marriage:

"Not everyone who can accept this teaching but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so since birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can". (Matthew 19:10-12)

It's okay not to be married. It is not an affront to God to forgo this sacrament. It might bother my grandmother, but really, Jesus matters more.

Paul takes it a little further (as always.) It's not just okay for people to go through life without marriage, it's prefereable. After all, there's more time to focus on living an obidient Christian life when you don't have to worry about maintaining a marriage relationship or support a family.

You might as well get married if you can't keep it in your pants.

Being single is pretty easy for me. I really only have moments of wanting romantic moments in my life. I'm comforted in those moments by the Bible and by my relationship with Christ.

But now there's the young man in my life and already everything is complicated. I'm worried that already I'm being less attentive to the movement of the Spirit. I'm more interested in seeing if he's emailed me.

But I also can't wait to see him on Monday.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Easter reflections

Sometimes, it's hard for me to distinguish between different types of liberal friends. The majority of stuff I hear about FGC makes me roll my eyes. The tendency of certain active and well-known members in the large meeting I now attend to stand up and rebuke any ministry that is given about Christ is upsetting to me. The practice of combative "ministry," the aggressive dislike of Christianity, and the tendency to give membership to people who perhaps need a little more seasoning in order to truly believe in Quaker process and methods of worship make me long for more Conservative-style worship.

I am aware that there are many reasons to be uncomfortable with Christianity: aggressive evangelism, historical and contemporary persecution in Jesus' name, etc. I'm also aware that the "SPICE" testimonies which FGC friends tend to be so fond of are based in a cohesive and flexible interpretation of scripture. My own mother finds her feminism often conflicts with the New Testament, which is understandable given how much her Catholic upbringing/education chafed against her ideas about women and equality. It was when I announced when I was about two years old that I wanted to be a priest that my parents finally left the Catholic Church for Princeton Friends Meeting.

Over the weekend, I had the chance to worship with Princeton Friends for Easter. Princeton, like my local meeting, is an unprogrammed dual-affiliated (FGC/FUM) meeting in a college town. Unlike my local meeting, Princeton is a small meeting in a semi-rural setting on the outskirts of town. And there I found that several members were lead to speak of the crucifixion story and were not rebuked during worship by someone who identifies as a non-theist or pagan or Jewish Friend. I am certain these elements are present in the meeting, especially given the items and wishes that I was asked to pass on to family members, but they weren't combative, at least not on Easter Sunday.

I am trying to think of what I might be able to do to help heal the wounds that cause so much of the anti-Christian sentiment where I worship. I will continue to faithfully give the messages I am given, which are so often about comfort, sin, obedience, redemption, forgiveness and Christ's love. I will continue to spread the gospel as I am asked, although I feel my voice is largely unwelcomed. I don't feel that every Quaker needs to be fully Christian, but I simply can't understand how one can be virulently anti-Christian and still be a Quaker. Why can't one of the paths up the mountain be hand in hand with Christ Jesus?

I know that whatever I do, it will only be so far as I am led. In thinking about this issue, the only thing that is clear to me is that I need to continue to be fully honest about my faith. Honest about my universalism and it's limits. Honest about the power of Christian Salvation in my life. Honest about my struggles with theology and scripture. And perhaps most importantly, honest about how uncomfortable I feel expressing my Christianity in the Big Urban Meeting I attend.

I said what, what?

While answering questions about my sexual/reproductive history and intentions for a CDC survey a few weeks ago, I surprised myself. Not on how I answered the questions about cocaine and crack usage or whether I have had "sexual intercourse with a man in the rectum or butt (also known as anal sex)," but on the demographics questions.

The question about race has been confusing for me since I was in high school and I mostly get around that by not answering the question whenever I can. This wasn't an option but I did get to "check all that apply" which is second best. I grew up being told by my family that I was one thing and being seen by the rest of the world as another. I didn't have the concept of biracialism until I was a teenager and at times even that label has felt like selling out. Knowing that I will be faced with answering what race I am always causes some anxiety. What are the consequences of my answer/non-answer? It's stressful, more so even than talking about my sexual history with a complete stranger while she takes notes, but it's a known stress.

I know if I am going to be asked to check a box next to a racial category I'm going worry about whether or not I've made the right choice for a little while afterwards. I didn't realize that answering some of the religion questions would be so hard. "Christian, other" has become easy. I'm a Christian and I'm perfectly comfortable with the term and just about everything it implies. But then there was this follow-up question, asking me to check off words that applied to me like:

• fundamentalist
• born-again
• conservative
• evangelical

Three out of four were easy. I am not a fundamentalist. I am not conservative in the way that they mean. I am not evangelical. But born-again? I'm not like the Born-Again Christians I grew up around and I think eternal life sounds like a punishment, not a reward, and
I'm not convinced that Christ is the only way for everyone, but...
I do know that I had a life-changing spiritual experience in which I felt baptized in the Holy Spirit, which is really similar to that bit about being born again in the third chapter of John so maybe I am a born-again Christian. And now the CDC knows it.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Taking the Lord's name in vain and the 12 commandments

What does it mean to take the lord's name in vain?

I have recently been pondering this question. I think this question first formed in my mind when my boyfriend who was brought up Catholic became angry with me after I pulled one of my favorite Quaker jokes. He had misplaced a citation for his dissertation proposel and exclaimed, "Jesus Crist." I naturally answered, "yes." He looked at me and told me to watch my mouth, that that was blasphemous language. I replied, "No, there is that of god in all of us. So my responding to your utterance of 'Jesus Christ' is less blasphemous." At which point I think he quit listening ( I never said we were a functional couple).

However, the idea of what constitutes taking the lord's name in vain has continued to roll around in my brain. The answer that keeps coming to me, is that we take this statement too literally. That it is not as simple as avoiding using phrases like, "Jesus H. Christ" or "God Damn It."

The 10 Commandments begin:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.

You shall have no other gods before me.

You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.

You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name.

---Exodus 20:1-7, New International Version

It has occurred to me, that we misuse god's name a lot. We worship money, beauty, and youth...and sometimes god. We say that god doesn't like this or that. We have presidents who think they are here by some devine decree and then arrange wars, cheat the poor, and pamper the rich. I think that a lot of the talk about it being god's will to do this or believe that is in fact taking the Lord's Name In Vain. Who are we to know? Yes, you can try to be faithful, but part of being a vessel of the Lord is to discern what is worldly pride motivating us and what is divine humility. I think that every time we act with hate, prejudice, malice, or in any un-Loving manner we are taking the Lord's name in vain.

One of the main points Jesus makes in his teachings is the importance of love. I think that is infact what makes him stand out amongst the prophets of the Bible...LOVE.

Love the Lord your God with all with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the law and all the Prophets hang on these two commandments.

Matthew 22:37-40 New International Version

Because these two commandments that Jesus brought us are two of the hardest in many ways, that might answer why we are still so far from creating a lasting Kingdom of God here on Earth. Act from the divine; act from love.

Epiphany

Sometimes there is nothing as welcoming being home. I just returned from visiting my parents in Minnesota. It was a good visit. I was able to spend time with my parents, grandparents and friends. It was a blessing and a balm for my soul.

My mother loves Christmas music. She loves being able to listen to it. Shortly after I arrived home she and I were cooking and listening to carols-- Silent Night came on. I started reflecting on that song and many of the carols. Many carols that are traditional at Christmas rejoice and detail the birth of Jesus. But to think about Bethlehem and Jerusalem, to think of the part of the world where Jesus lived and the physical location of the stories of the Bible, we see only conflict now. Daily there is religious strife, wars, death, and exploitation. It’s true that miracles are present even in the middle of war, but they are surrounded by the brutality of humanity. There is no silent night now.

Peace on Earth and Good Will to Men.

My home meeting has a lovely Christmas Eve tradition of potluck, singing, and worship. In the last few years we have even gotten my father a lapsed non-practicing Catholic to attend with the rest of the family. I get sent ahead to pick up my grandparents who no longer drive and who make a fine art of slowness. My grandfather is particularly a master in the craft of slowness.

This year’s celebration was lovely. I got to see many people I had not seen since last year’s Christmas. I was also able to reunite with old friends and start our friendships anew. The potluck was wonderful, complete with the traditional rum optional homemade Egg Nog.

After the potluck we all gather in the meeting room for caroling followed by silent worship. As we selected songs, I kept reflecting on the lyrics with their talk of peace and salvation that was forth-coming now that our savior has been born in Bethlehem. I started thinking back to my ruminations on Silent Night. Before I knew it I was speaking out of the silence between songs. Reflecting on war, conflict, religion, and humanity.

We have made Jesus’ life petty. We have made it a celebration of consumer goods prostrated before the alter of material greed. We create conflict and war in the name of the Prince of Peace. We Christians, are the new money-changers in the temple.

What was truly a blessing in this was the response after meeting had risen. Several people came to speak with my about the points I had raised and thanked me for my ministry. I am very grateful to have my home meeting.

It is good to be home.

A story about prayer

I would really like to go to bed right now, but I don't think I can without sharing this story here. I'm in such a good mood that I don't seem to mind this prompting in the slightest.
This morning, I was lying in bed with a terrible migraine. I was feeling worthless for missing work and being weak. I was in a very bleak place, perhaps the worst I've been since I was in the hospital earlier this fall. Lying in the dark, waiting for the migraine drugs to kick in, I was being mindful of how being in physical pain affects my mental health and trying not to take my dark thoughts too seriously.
I tried to think of things that I could do once my headache cleared that would help improve my mood and had the snotty thought that if so-and-so would just call, things would be a lot easier to handle because I've have something tangible to look forward to. I heard the tone of my internal voice and decided to ask for help. I didn't call my therapist, since I was still too sensitive to sound to talk on the phone. I decided to pray.
When I pray, I don't pray for the pain to go away, or for a boy to like me, or for the job I want or to win the lottery or for a specific outcome in an election. I feel that there is too much presumption and pride in asking for these things, as if to ask for my aunt to be healed of breast cancer were questioning God's Plan for her life.
What I do pray for are comfort, strength and/or direction. This morning, I prayed for the strength to get through those dark moments. I prayed for a while and I may have dozed off a little while praying. The next thing I knew, my phone was ringing and the pain in my head was gone. It was that phone call that would supposedly make everything better. The one that might make it easier to be hopeful even when things get really ugly.
It feels good to have gotten what I wanted, but it feels better to know that I did the right thing. I feel centered and holy, even, knowing that in the heat of the moment, in the darkness where I needed Him the most I was able to cast aside the petulant child and be the faithful servant He so desires me to be. It sounds a little like pride, but it is something entirely different. It's the precious feeling that only comes from believing that everything is right between me and God. There is nothing better in the world and I have only found it in perfect obedience.
This evening, I am going to bed with words of praise on my lips. I hope that each of you, dear Friends, can do the same.

With Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

It is the little things; let your life speak

When I was in high school I had to read a autobiography or biography for a class assignment. I talked with my grandmother a former librarian and general fount of wisdom. I wanted a woman with some spark and fire. She recommended that I read "The Long Loneliness" by Dorothy Day.

Dorothy Day has been one of my personal heroe's ever since. I am not big on idolizing people who are not real people in my life, but Dorothy is one of the few. Something about her search for community and a life which lived out one's convictions spoke to me. I was also taken up with her struggle to be a person of faith while surrounded by many who were doubters.

In college my spirituality was deepening and maturing. At one point I felt that the only way to live my convictions was to live in an intentional community. I lived in a Catholic Worker for awhile. It was a wonderful time filled with service and spirit. I was very close to dropping out of school and giving my life over to the work of the Catholic Worker communities. Something changed though and I have felt that my vioce is needed to change and persuade those with means and priviledge that we must change the social structures that oppress our humanity. For as we keep economic opportunity, health, education, and oppurtunity from any of our brothers and sisters we in turn our keeping our own humanity disadvantaged.

One of the most important things I have taken from Dorothy is that we don't know the effect our actions will have on another. Even the smallest action has the potential to dramatically affect another person. The true miracle of this is that we will never know how our interactions can alter another person. Few of us will ever know that 10 years down the road someone will be reminded of some small kindness and it will have made a positive impact somewhere. Conversely, negative behaviors carry at least as much impact--sometimes more. This idea is much like that of "letting your life speak." While letting your personal decisions reflect your moral character, at the heart of this Quakerly sentiment is that we are all children of god and deserve to be treated as such. It means let your words ring with kindness and truth. Let your life be a mindful and intentional one, but not at the expense of another. And do not judge those who do not live like you.

After college I spent some time in the same Catholic Worker community that I had lived previously. I remember being in the kitchen one day and reading the notes on the canisters of sugar. I was rather shocked that one note said something about the sugar being unbleached, raw, etc. The wording of the note was such that I was shocked because of the expression of middle class values. That everyone should eat certain foods and buy organic...but this was in a home of hospitality for the homeless. If a person cannot afford housing then they are just happy to eat. And organic foods and foods with a conscience are expensive. Until they are affordable one should not expect the poor to eat them. Nor should we assume that people want to eat crap, but if a pound of sugar costs less than two dollars and unbleached organic raw sugar costs 6 dollars...what do expect most of us to do? Just as my parents would go back off the grid in a heartbeat, if it wasn't so expensive to rewire the house and buy solar panels.

Now the difficulty with being faithful to making the most of all interactions and letting your life speak in big and small ways, is that it is easier said than done. I sometimes forget to let my words ring with kindness...truth is easier (but I tend to channel an angrier god than a god of love). Sometimes I take the elavator instead of the stairs. And I often judge others quickly and rarely change my mind...but again I point to Thomas Kelley, "begin where you are. We all stumble, but begin again."

Don't play with dead birds; they leave scars

I recently came across some free writing I had done in preparation for a poem I have yet to finish. It was about a dead bird I had seen, laying on a busy sidewalk. Some of the phrases and images are good, but there isn't a cohesive thought behind the poem yet. Mostly because I'm not clear how I feel about the idea of God and the sparrow. You know the sparrow I'm talking about:

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I've always had trouble with the idea that God is taking care of all of us, down to the smallest of us. Sparrows freeze to death, get hunted for sport by well-fed housecats, get hit by cars. Surely if each individual sparrow mattered, they wouldn't be prone to senseless deaths. Never mind the meaningless suffering of people around the world from poverty, hunger, war, etc. Why doesn't God care enough to stop suffering?

But the verses that it is based on, Matthew 10:29-31, don't say that the sparrow will come to no harm. It says that if the sparrow comes to harm, it is through the Father. Not only did God know about that dead bird on the sidewalk in front of Moody's Falafel Palace, he let it die. That seems even more callus than not knowing/caring about the fate of the sparrow.

The important lesson for me isn't around the symbolism of the dead bird. It's all about I value judgment I made a couple paragraphs back. I decided that the sparrow's death was senseless or meaningless. And I don't get to decide things like that. Just a few verses earlier in Matthew 10 we are told that "there is nothing covered that shall not be revealed" or "hid that shall not be known". We are reminded not to fear anyone other than the Lord. If something bad happens, God knows why.

If we are suffering and we can find no reason why He should let us suffer, we should not curse Him, nor doubt Him. He's got a plan. He's keeping an eye on us and it'll all make sense later. I can get so caught up in myself and my sense of what is fair that I forget that "the foolishness of God is wiser than men and the weakness of God is stronger than men." (1 Corinthians 1:25).

I'm feeling pretty weak and foolish right now, so it's comforting to know that He's got His eye on me and that I don't need to understand anything else right now.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.

I attended Rob's experiment in semi-programmed worship yesterday evening. As we waited for everyone to gather, some of us discussed how we had spent our morning. Few of us had attended meeting for worship. When I mentioned I had gone to brunch with my heathen friends, everyone laughed.

During the service, Rob read the 4th query from Britain Yearly Meeting:

The Religious Society of Friends is rooted in Christianity and has always found inspiration in the life and teachings of Jesus. How do you interpret your faith in the light of this heritage? How does Jesus speak to you today? Are you following Jesus' example of love in action? Are you learning from his life the reality and cost of obedience to God? How does this relationship with God challenge and inspire you?

I cannot calculate the cost of my obedience to God. I cannot fathom what I might have gained or lost by following my own desires above His. I know that the greatest treasure I possess is the intimate knowledge of His Redemptive Grace, which I discovered through utter submission to His will.

One of the ways in which He guides me occasionally is through the selection of my friends. Amongst my dearest friends are the prostitutes and the tax-collectors (Matthew 21:32). Those of us who live in the dirt are most in need of Love. When I console and council my dearest and their friends as one who has struggled and does struggle with the depravity of the human spirit, I am doing His work.

While I value the friendships I have with Quakers and relative ease with which I can discuss spirituality, the majority of my friends and acquaintances are religious and many appear on the surface to have very minimal spiritual lives. It's not my intention to bring anyone to Christ. It is my intention to be obedient to Christ and to feed His lambs and care for His sheep (John 21:15-16), for we are all children of God, whether we are aware of it or not. If we insulate ourselves with like-minded folks who look like we do, we are not living in the world. There is much work to be done inside the Society of Friends, but far more to be done outside of it. We are called to be a part of the Kingdom of Heaven and all are welcome.

I will continue to minister from the ugliness of my own life to the sick, the troubled and the weary regardless of their genetic make-up, belief structure, and station in life because despair is a universal condition. Knowing that one is not alone in the dark can be more comforting than being told of a light.

This is how I am called to express Love in action. This is the cross Christ has asked me to bear.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst