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?

With wings as eagles

So, I used up all my patience on my trip to NC. I'm excited about QUIP's Youth Book Project, relieved that the board works so well together and a little bit cranky about getting dragged back into the wider world of Friends. I'm also feeling a little anxious about the amount of energy this project is going to require. I'm already exhausted.

It's hard work speaking in front of a group, even when it's just a bunch of Quakers who want to pat you on the head and tell you you're awesome. It's hard to have your photo taken over and over and over again when you've gained a lot of weight over the past year or so and are still really uncomfortable with it. It's hard work to act as recording clerk in most situations, but when you factor in theological and cultural differences it's even harder.

Moreover, I had to face a lot of difficult memories while I was there. Memories of a dear friend and mentor who committed suicide two years ago. Memories of past experiences of ecumenical Quakerism gone awry. Memories of campus drama from college and feeling unsupported by all the communities I identified with. I really wasn't expecting to have to talk to anyone about how I came to leave QLSP, or what the joint North Carolina Yearly Meeting sessions or Youth Quake were like for me. And I really wasn't prepared to see a portrait of my mentor hanging in the library.

There was a lot of talk about life transitions over the course of the long weekend and in a lot of ways I was truly blessed as I transitioned from college student to working girl. I never questioned my faith, although I struggled and grew with it. I never questioned my career path, although it hasn't always been easy. I really wish I could talk to my mentor about work right now.

I've grown a lot since college. I've learned to build community with individuals and no longer believe it intrinsically when groups tell me I'm welcome. I've learned to accept my abilities and leadings with a great deal less angst. I've even learned to speak in public without dissociating! I've learned to stand up for myself and to ask for what I need. Most importantly I've learned how to take care of myself.

So tonight I'm taking care of myself. I'm going to go to a tequila tasting and then an opera performance. Later this weekend there will be a tour of local artist studios, most likely a viewing of R. Kelly's entire Trapped in the Closet, and perhaps I'll even perform the 1812 overture as part of a "Last-Minute Orchestra". I'm filling my weekend with the silly, the outrageous, the artsy and the delicious. In the meantime, I'm enjoying work emails that warn of a potential "interruption as a result of the manhole fire."

Perhaps on Monday I'll be ready to transfer my notes about what I've agreed to do into my big to-do list. Maybe by First Day I'll be ready to go to worship. And if not, I'm not going to worry about it. He always gives me enough strength to do the things He's asked me to do, so I know I'll be fine.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Quaker children are angels. Sometimes.

I've been working with the junior high class at the big local meeting for a few months now, and it was recently time to decide whether or not to come back and do it again for another trimester.

This week, we had combined the high-schoolers, the junior high and the 3-5th graders to work on the Christmas pageant. It was chaos, but it was a loving chaos. The high-schoolers were patient with the little ones, even when they painted over things they should have painted around. There was affectionate horsing around between kids who were related and kids who weren't. A teenager pulled up to the piano and played. Another pulled up some folding chairs and took a nap. But when it was time to wrap things up, the backdrop, complete with a peace-sign wearing cobra, unicorn, and spitting llama, was carefully taken downstairs to dry and the kids set the room up for the potluck without complaint. Okay, so some of my junior high kids complained a little that I woke the sleeping teenager up gently instead to letting them pull the chair out from under his head, but mostly they were really good. Wild, unruly, the-camel's-teeth-don't-really-need-to-be-bloody angels (no-really-I'm-serious-do-not-paint-blood-on-the-camel's-teeth).

There are ways in which Quaker kids are special. You can get 7th graders to talk about their doubts about God. You can tell a teenager to coordinate twenty younger kids in a painting project and not have anyone throw a tantrum. There's something about they way that we treat our kids that makes them more responsible than other kids their age. Sometimes.

Sometimes, they're more reluctant to quietly accept orders from adults. They're prone to making their own decisions about sex and drugs and can really make a mess out of things that way. They tend to be less motivated and fairly indecisive when it comes to careers. When you raise children to value simplicity and an inner spiritual life, they tend to be uncommitted to the labor market. Quaker boys seem especially unmotivated to say, finish college, do their own laundry, stop smoking pot and get a real job.

I remember teaching my younger brothers the story of Jonah and the whale. My youngest brother amused himself for quite some time by making vomiting noises, but in between the fits of giggles, we were able to talk about the story on a deeper level than the question-and-answer, were-you-really-paying-attention regurgitation that most kids expect to have to do when talking to grownups.

When I was working with a group of Methodist children, they were much calmer. They sat down when and where I asked them to, but could not wrap their minds around the open-ended questions I would ask them about the parables I was teaching them. I would get blank stares if I asked for their opinions, or for how the story might be applicable to their lives.

One of my friends, who got kicked out of Catholic Sunday school for asking too many questions, was taken aback when I was telling her about the lesson I lead where we talked about what the kids thought about god (the answer: reincarnation, probably real; God, probably not real). When it comes to matters of faith, I'm of the opinion that giving kids the ability to think about what they believe and learning about what other people believe gives them the opportunity to stay open to the leadings of the Holy Spirit a while longer than the didactic methods favored by other Christian denominations. Does this mean that we end up with some non-theists who believe in reincarnation and care more about the environment than the Spirit? Sure. But we don't end up with a large number of young adults who hate organized religion. I'd like to believe that this leaves them more open to the movement of the Spirit within as they grow older. I believe that we are drawn into the Community of Believers in God's time and the best way be can prepare our children for that is to keep them open to the ideas that God might exist and have a plan for them.

One of the things that I value most about my Quaker education was that I got to talk, really talk, to a number of adults about their faith and their faith in practice. Taking the time to be one of those grownups for a new generation of young Quakers is important to me. It's not a strong leading, it's not a long term commitment. It's something that I can do to give back to a Society which has given so much to me.

While I often come home from First Day School exhausted and mumbling incoherently about heathens, I've decided to go ahead and teach the junior high class again next semester. The curriculum, as set by the Meeting, covers the parables of Jesus next trimester and I'm looking forward to introducing them to the back half of the Bible. Maybe I'll even be able to share enough of my faith that they'll be able to realize someday that Evangelical and Christian aren't mutually inclusive terms. I could tell them that, of course, but they wouldn't listen. They're Quaker kids and they'll need to figure it out for themselves in their own time.

Yes, you have have snack now.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Love that dirty water

On Thursday night, I'll be attending a fundraiser for a local organization that's fighting for public transportation equity in my area. Afterwards, I'm having some folks over to watch the game.

It's hard not to get swept up in the joy that is Boston in October. We are Red Sox nation, and when things are good, they're really good. It's fun to be a part of it all; checking the scores, sharing them with friends and strangers, singing sweet caroline in the streets or on the subway.

Getting excited about public hearings about public transportation is a whole lot harder. There will be locally-made chocolates at the fundraiser, which should make it easier. The governor has recently said that he's planning to put up the funds to get the greenline extension finished ahead of schedule which seems to have some people hopeful. I'm still thinking a lawsuit is likely to be necessary, given the current timeline, the history of postponement, and the health risks involved. The Big Dig has not been kind to Somerville.

I'm feeling really connected to my community, and it certainly helps that my community includes people I can call friends, but it is sad to me that my involvement with the Quakers in the area is so limited. Is the disconnect because I am a "young adult" who'd rather not hang out with the Young Adults? Is the disconnect because New Englanders are decidedly less friendly that Southerners? Or is it because of the theological differences that separate us? I imagine it's all of the above. The reticent New Englanders expect the young adults to take me in, but I have no interest in their potlucks. I hung out with young adults while I was in college, and even then I didn't always feel that our age was significant enough to bind us together. Once I get the "real grown-ups" to really talk to me, they don't seem to like me very much.

I'm loving my community right now. I just wish I felt as involved, included and welcomed at the Quaker meeting as I do elsewhere.

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

Faithful Farming

I was sent a link to this article recently. It gives me great cheer to read such things. It has been a weight on my heart that organic food is so expensive and that until the last couple of years was relegated to specialty stores. As someone whose income has been hovering around the poverty line (both intentionally and unintentionally) for years it saddens me that the poorer you are the harder it is to get organic and/or responsibly grown food.

I would eat completely different if I could afford it. But between cost and convenience, I haven't eaten as well as I would like in a long while. I say cost and convenience because organic products are more available at major grocery stores these days but locally grown food is still often relegated to farmers markets--which I love but rarely have the time to get to. Time is a big issue for those of us living paycheck to paycheck...I don't have time to eat, much less go to special venues for food.

However, now that grocery stores are offering more organic types of foods sometimes you can get good deals on it. And I keep telling myself the more we buy at the regular grocery the more we can convince someone that this is a viable market and maybe one day we can bring the prices down...though now that I think about it, this point may be mute as it seems regular groceries are costing more and more each week.

What most stuck me about the article though was that it was religious groups leading the way for these more ethical farming practices. It isn't just about whether to go organic or not but that there needs to be more mindfulness of the whole product. The treatment of the workers and the animals needs to be ethical. These are not new concepts for people of faith. The Catholic Worker has had ties to farms throughout its existence.

The combination of faith to bring about ethical farming practices (doing right by the workers, the animals, and the plants) and my undying hope that through continually trying to make organic and whole foods more available on an equal scale to over-processed foods, will one day lead to a level buying field between such products gives me great joy after reading the article.

Another point in this article to reflect on is that sometimes fundamentalism may not be a bad thing...though I would like to think of it more as a Conservatism...as it manifests Conservative Quakers.

So what say you, faithful readers?

That was easy! (NCYM-C Sessions 2007)

Whenever a really simple bit of business was completed, our clerk would press a red plastic "easy button" which would announce cheerfully: "That was easy!" Rumor has it that after a while, Sid's easy button was confiscated. I didn't attend a whole lot of business sessions so that I could recover from and prepare for Bible study, but I was deeply amused by the stories I heard about the "easy button."

In the commercials for the company which makes the "easy button," some sort of complicated office mess is cleaned up by hitting the "easy button". I could have used that while organizing the panel discussion for Saturday night.

After much pulling of teeth, four young adults were wrangled for a panel discussion on growing up in NCYM-C. My answer to one of the questions seemed to touch quite a few people, so I'm going to try to reproduce it here.

Do you have any fond or valuable memories of older Friends that have been meaningful to you on a continuing basis. Did you find any role models among Yearly Meeting Friends outside your immediate family?

Anytime that I am sitting in worship feeling cranky about a leading to speak, I think of Alfred Newlin. He was a recorded minister in a tiny rural meeting in Alamance County. Towards the end of his life, as he was losing his battle with lung cancer, he would sometimes have coughing fits that took him out of worship. For the last few months at least, he was coughing bright red blood into his handkerchief. I remember being told that Alfred was refusing to take the painkillers that his doctors had prescribed because he was afraid of becoming addicted to them, so I imagine he was in a great deal of pain. Every First Day that I was able to attend West Grove, Alfred stood up and gave his message and I never heard him complain. Not about having an incurable cancer, not about the pain, not about death, and never about having to keep up his ministry as he was dying.

I told this story on a panel that I really didn't want to take part in. I thought leading Bible Study was enough. I was still recovering from a migraine I had gotten that afternoon. And I really thought that since the panel was my father's idea that he should have been the one trying to convince people to sit on it. Okay, I still think that. But in the end, I think that the panel went well and I'm glad I participated. It wasn't that hard to talk about the things that we were asked to talk about (especially since many of them were conversations that we as YAFs have had with each other over and over and over). In the end, getting a couple young ladies' butts in the seats and crying a little as I talked about Alfred Newlin wasn't hard at all. In fact, it might well have been an occasion for Sid to use his "easy button."

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.

Notes at 1:30am

I would like to take a moment to apologize for my last two posts oh-so-many months ago. Not for their personal nature but for how they were expressed. The experiential nature of Quakerism has lead us to value life's experiences as it reveals the Truths necessary to continuing revelations of the Spirit in our lives thereby creating a "kingdom of God" here on this earth. So it is not that I regret the highly personal nature of the posts but the whiney adolescent tone. As a result I took time away from the Quaking Harlot and blogging.

Currently, I have been following conversations on the blogshere and am working on several posts relating to progressive politics and religion, theism and non-theism, convergent Friends, and that thorny issue of "birthright" Quakers.

Peace be with you. And to those of you lucky enough to be at FGC enjoy! The campus at River Falls is very dear to me. As someone from NYM I have spent many lovely times there for YM and was present last time FGC visited.

"and everywhere the world is bare"

When things inevitably go wrong and they inevitably do, I want to curl up in my bed and savor the darkest silence I can find. This is of course, not the best of choices, as it is rarely dark enough and never quiet enough and there's only so much staring at a wall I can do before my thoughts begin to spiral dangerously downward. When things look bleak and I am in need of comfort, I recall a couple of verses from Isaiah:

Comfort, O, Comfort my people!
Speak tenderly 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. (Isaiah 40:1-2)

This is the verse I use to remember the feeling I had when I first felt the overpowering glory of forgiveness. Whether I am standing on an overcrowded train, or huddled in my bed or sitting at my desk, I can recite this verse to myself and remember that although my fellow humans may fail me time and time again, He never will. I know that I can place my hope in the Lord and have my strength renewed and that is all I'll ever need.

The support of my dear friends and a little Avril seem to be helping for the moment as well:

Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious
And hell yeah, I'm the motherfuckin' princess

Many thanks for the tea and sympathy,
Elizabeth Bathurst


*For those of you who will be attending NCYM-C sessions next month, I'll be covering Isaiah 40 more in depth, probably on First Day morning.
**Avril will not be covered.
***Sorry about the language, Mama.

My Struggles; Isolation

I find myself trying to establish a social network --again. This is the fourth time in six years, 1) after college returning to Minnesota, 2) moving back to North Carolina after 3 years in Minnesota, 3)moving to Maryland to start graduate school, and now 4) the transition from graduate school to professional life and finding friends with a similar schedules...

I have found that more often than not my life consists of work...with very little social outlet. I have a weekly "date" with a F/friend, who I first met at a NYM (Northern Yearly Meeting) youth retreat when I was 16. She and I ended up in Baltimore serendipitously about the same time. I am thankful for our weekly dinners, however, as our lives go in various directions we are braking the date more and more frequently.

I have two friends from school I see semi-regularly when our schedules permit. I am certainly not complaining that I only have a few friends in the area...but it can get lonely, living in a big city and doing most things solo...

I told God that my only resolution for 2007 was to go to meeting more often. But that he was responsible for getting my up in time. Which is perhaps not fair, but part of being faithful is being lead. Going to meeting frequently would not only be good for the obvious spiritual reasons...and lord knows I need to spend more time being devote and working on being centered. But it would also provide me with a healthy social outlet. The community of corporate worship would be good. However, even when I am up on Sunday mornings I don't always get to meeting.

I have had several instances of impending panic attacks on my way to meeting. Sometimes this has to do with parking, sometimes this has to do with which meeting I am trying to go to, and sometimes it is the thought of having to face so many new people all alone. When I get the feeling that I am working my way toward a panic attack or feel my blood pressure rising...I usually abort my mission. It seems to be counter-productive to get that worked up in an attempt to stave off my spiritual malnutrition to center myself to deal with the week ahead. When I have managed to get myself to meeting without any problems, it has been a very rewarding experience. So why do I make it so difficult on myself to attend regularly?

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.