tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31408929786542565142024-03-19T05:51:55.676-04:00Liberation Theology LutheranKristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.comBlogger4762125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-30418343590992041172024-03-19T05:51:00.001-04:002024-03-19T05:51:20.103-04:00The Feast Day of Saint JosephToday is the feast day of St. Joseph, Mary's husband, the earthly father of Jesus. Here are the readings for today:<br /><br />2 Samuel 7:4, 8-16<br />Psalm 89:1-29 (2)<br />Romans 4:13-18<br />Matthew 1:16, 18-21, 24a<br /><br />I have done some thinking of Joseph, as many of us do, in the Advent season, when occasionally, we get to hear about Joseph. He thinks of quietly unweaving himself from Mary, who is pregnant. This behavior is our first indication of his character. Under ancient law, he could have had Mary stoned to death, but he takes a gentler path.<br /><br />And then, he follows the instructions of the angel who tells him of God's plan. He could have turned away. He could have said, "I did not sign up for this!" He could have said, "No thanks. I want a normal wife and a regular life."<br /><br />Instead, he turned towards Mary and accepted God's vision. He's there when the family needs to flee to Egypt. He's there when the older Jesus is lost and found in the temple. We assume that he has died by the time Christ is crucified, since he's not at the cross.<br /><br />Some of us today will spend the day celebrating fathers, which is a great way to celebrate the feast day of St. Joseph. Lately, I've been thinking of his feast day and what it means for administrators and others who are not the stars, but who make it possible for stars to step into the spotlight.<br /><br />Let us today praise the support teams, the people in the background, the people who step back to allow others to shine. Let us praise the people who do the drudgery work which makes it possible for others to succeed.<br /><br />For example, I am not the kind of person who immediately decides what to do with each piece of e-mail. Consequently, once every few weeks, or more often, I need to go hunting for a particular e-mail. I am amazed at how many e-mails I send and receive in any given day. And yes, much of it is not that important.<br /><br />But occasionally, an e-mail exchange can quickly settle a problem. Some times, it's good to have an e-mail chain for reference.<br /><br />Many of us grow up internalizing the message that if we're not changing the world in some sort of spectacular way, we're failures. Those of us who are Christians may have those early disciples as our role models, those hard-core believers who brought the Good News to the ancient world by going out in pairs.<br /><br />But Joseph shows us a different reality. It's quite enough to be a good parent. It's quite enough to have an ordinary job. It's quite enough to show up, day after day, dealing with both the crises and the opportunities.<br /><br />Joseph reminds us that even the ones born into the spotlight need people in the background who are tending to the details. When we think about those early disciples and apostles, we often forget that they stayed in people's houses, people who fed them and arranged speaking opportunities for them, people who gave them encouragement when their task seemed too huge.<br /><br />I imagine Joseph doing much the same thing, as he helped Jesus become a man. I imagine the life lessons that Joseph administered as he gave Jesus carpentry lessons. I imagine that he helped Jesus understand human nature, in all the ways that parents have helped their offspring understand human nature throughout history.<br /><br />Let us not be so quick to discount this kind of work. Let us praise the support teams that make the way possible for the people who will change the world.<br /><br /><br />Here is a prayer that I wrote for today:<br /><br />Creator God, thank you for your servant Joseph. Help us to remember his lessons for us. Help us look for ways to shepherd your Good News into the world in ways that only we can.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-76173024263150779812024-03-18T08:03:00.002-04:002024-03-18T08:03:18.464-04:00Looking Ahead to Fall Seminary Classes<p>When we get to reading week, I start to check to see if the schedule of classes for the following term has been released yet. Even in the week or two before reading week, I check, although I know that the schedule isn't likely to be released. Yesterday, I checked to see if the Fall schedule was there, even though it was Sunday. There it was.</p><p>I must have missed the late afternoon posting of the schedule, because when I checked late Friday morning, it wasn't there. I can't actually register for classes until March 25, so I haven't lost out. More exciting, there are plenty of classes that will work for me.</p><p>In the past year, I haven't had as many classes that I could take. That's partly a function of having been in the MDiv program for awhile: a lot of the courses offered are ones I've already taken. But I've also felt a bit fretful as I've seen fewer classes that are offered for students who have to take classes from a distance.</p><p>This fall, I'll be taking a variety of classes: one is completely online, one meets by way of Zoom Mondays from 6:30 to 9:30, and two meet in person on campus for one week, October 14-18, with the rest of the work online.</p><p>If I take one more class, I could be done with the MDiv by December. But do I want to do that? Hmm. One of my favorite professors is teaching a class on the Gospel of Mark, so it's tempting. That class meets by way of Zoom once a month, and the rest is online. It could be doable.</p><p>You may be saying, "Wait, aren't you about to start a full-time job in the Fall?" Yes. Could I handle a heavy teaching load and a heavy seminary class load at the same time? Yes. </p><p>I will take the four classes regardless, unless something changes radically. It gets my requirements done, and the classes that I need for the certificate in Theology and the Arts done. I want to take the classes while they are offered and in a format that works for me. I can't be sure that it will happen term after term. Let me seize this opportunity while it's here!</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-2389637117543388822024-03-17T07:16:00.002-04:002024-03-17T07:16:40.254-04:00The Seeds of Saint Patrick's Day<p>I have never done much celebrating of St. Patrick's Day. I don't drink green beer, and if someone else served me corned beef, I'd eat it, but I don't love it enough to make it for my own homestead. Occasionally I make Irish soda bread, and I wonder why it isn't tastier. I've made a cake with Guinness beer occasionally, and here, too, I wonder why it isn't more delicious. I'm not braving the crowds to go to an Irish pub--I like my pubs deserted.</p><div>I may spend some time contemplating Celtic aspects of Christianity, but I might do that any day, whether it's a day that celebrates the life of a famous Irish saint or not.<br /><br />I am intrigued by the crowds of people who have no connection to Ireland or Christianity or any of the reasons we celebrate today. But I'm not critical. I believe in injecting festivity into daily life in whatever way we can.<br /><br />Today I will go to church, people may wear green. That's fine. I am preaching a sermon that thinks about Saint Patrick, the Oscars, the U.S. presidential race, and today's Lectionary text: John 12: 20-33, a text about seeds and the necessity to die so that we may live again. Many would preach this text as an eternal life text, but I'm encouraging us to look at our current lives. What bulbs do we need to be planting? Where are we stuck in the mud of life?</div><div><br /></div><div>Saint Patrick, before he was a saint, surely felt stuck in the mud, sent to a distant outpost to help solidify Christianity in Ireland in the 500's, when Ireland was a wild and wooly place, when the empire of Rome was in a state of slow collapse. Yet he used his gifts to transform the community of faith--and one of those gifts was the 6-7 years he spent as a teen enslaved in Ireland before he escaped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's how today's sermon ends:</div><div><br /></div>Our sprouting and blooming will almost surely not look like the success that our larger culture has trained us to value. We’re not likely to win an Oscar or to be a presidential nominee. Even though I’d vote for just about any of you, our system isn’t set up that way. But the life of Saint Patrick reminds us to be of good cheer. Even if we feel like we’re stranded in a distant outpost, we are making a difference just by living our lives in an authentic way, the way that God calls us to live. Even if we feel like we’re stuck in the mud, in truth, we are bulbs in the process of transformation to blooms.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-31876720085471472632024-03-16T06:36:00.007-04:002024-03-16T06:36:37.089-04:00Intensifying Lent in the Last Week of LentIt is easy to lose sight of where we are in the liturgical calendar. We've had a time change, we've had changes in weather, some of us are watching trees and flowers blooming earlier than we're used to. It's easy to forget that we're about to enter the last week of Lent.<div><br /></div><div>A week from tomorrow we will celebrate Palm Sunday, and Holy Week will begin. That means that this week is the last week of Lent.</div><div><br /></div><div>During Advent, I often wish that Advent lasted six weeks, like Lent. During Lent, I often lose focus and wish that Lent could be more like Advent, no more than four weeks.</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning, I thought about this last week of Lent. Unlike many believers, I did not adopt a Lenten discipline. When we get to the last days of Lent, I often wish I had done more. This morning, it occurred to me that we could have a last week of intensity. Whatever we wish we had spent the last five weeks doing, we could do every day. If we're already doing a Lenten discipline every day, we could still schedule a week of intensity. What would it happen to do our Lenten discipline twice a day?</div><div><br /></div><div>It's easy enough if we've resolved to pray daily or to practice a creative discipline. I say "easy," even as I realize that it's plenty difficult to schedule one daily session, much less two.</div><div><br /></div><div>If we have been working our way through a daily devotional, we might need to be more creative. If it's a book written by a single author, we could add more readings. Or we could go back to the beginning of the book and read the first week of devotions for Lent along with the last week. It might lead to interesting connections!</div><div><br /></div><div>I write this post realizing that I'm unlikely to adopt a new Lenten discipline at this point. But I am going to Quilt Camp, scheduled back in November, not scheduled as a Lenten discipline. Perhaps I will add some Lenten focus to each day, as I go up the hill to the Faith Center to work on quilts. Perhaps I will also add some non-fabric quilting focus to some days. Hmm. Let me see what happens!</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-32488125384632227262024-03-13T05:16:00.001-04:002024-03-13T05:16:08.522-04:00More on Infographics<p>I don't have much writing time this morning. I need to leave even earlier than usual for a morning of meetings in Spartanburg. Let me return to the idea of infographics, which I first wrote about in <a href="https://kristinberkey-abbott.blogspot.com/2024/02/infographics-and-how-we-learn.html">this blog post</a>. Now that my baptism infographic has been graded, I can share it:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG-d-njd0qu6wAidTui-oDb53lyhhHs-3Phvg4sVCMWt9dALLuqZhIG3iuOFIhrwxHrd-KwTMt9g3HLWqfHJa5Xqkv3RMfR4C1Si2RZWC4ADRZqjfI10VfFXLelGlly9a_TGT73XWo3h6Ewj2yhkows-M_N9yVygQstLDG1o1Ohxn2j9a8dEk0HKw-gmo/s3045/Baptism%20Infographic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2964" data-original-width="3045" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG-d-njd0qu6wAidTui-oDb53lyhhHs-3Phvg4sVCMWt9dALLuqZhIG3iuOFIhrwxHrd-KwTMt9g3HLWqfHJa5Xqkv3RMfR4C1Si2RZWC4ADRZqjfI10VfFXLelGlly9a_TGT73XWo3h6Ewj2yhkows-M_N9yVygQstLDG1o1Ohxn2j9a8dEk0HKw-gmo/s320/Baptism%20Infographic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I was looking at my pictures, I came across the black and white version, which I took in case I messed up the infographic when I added color. I wouldn't have had a way to undo the color, but I could have turned in the black and white version. Happily, I liked the color version better.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CXW1rjLYR1QlpzRRy62YpSrl2pYNzrG_2rJEqKvVEiEU-IjXuzjXpdZQ54TiL8GLmAjYfUvpATmckSNyJTjodno20NNCtbymZUlxqSqp3sYSPJdS6G-2gGaB4jrsh_lWExeLdtLptGjngtESWwtWY5GnEG2kch0G6aNiJDcmgUtJMh9NJhbeazi-Hihg/s3056/Baptism%20Infographic%20Before%20Color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CXW1rjLYR1QlpzRRy62YpSrl2pYNzrG_2rJEqKvVEiEU-IjXuzjXpdZQ54TiL8GLmAjYfUvpATmckSNyJTjodno20NNCtbymZUlxqSqp3sYSPJdS6G-2gGaB4jrsh_lWExeLdtLptGjngtESWwtWY5GnEG2kch0G6aNiJDcmgUtJMh9NJhbeazi-Hihg/s320/Baptism%20Infographic%20Before%20Color.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I still find this concept of an infographic intriguing. I'm still looking for ways to incorporate it into my writing classes. Of course, this is the time of year when I find myself yearning for a different way to do the research paper. Or wishing that I didn't have to do a research paper at all. </p><p>Let me record this here: as much as I'm enjoying teaching, I do find myself yearning to do more creative things in class and not having to do some of the traditional stuff, like the research essay. I find myself wishing I could teach less English writing classes and more creativity class. Not so much creative writing, but a class exploring creativity.</p><p>Maybe I just want to play with art supplies.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-90679587505047818232024-03-12T04:53:00.005-04:002024-03-12T04:53:55.220-04:00Meditation on This Sunday's GospelThe readings for Sunday, March 17, 2024:<br /><br /><div>Jeremiah 31:31-34<br /><br />Psalm 51:1-13 (Psalm 51:1-12 NRSV)<br /><br />or Psalm 119:9-16<br /><br />Hebrews 5:5-10<br /><br />John 12:20-33<br /><br /><br />This verse is my favorite from the Gospel for this week: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (verse 24). I have a vision of a seed who desperately resists change, who wants life to continue as normal. "Let me have the familiar. Don't force me to change."<br /><br />But that seed doesn't see that it lives alone in the dark, damp earth. It thinks life is fine, because it has never known anything else. It thinks life is fine, because it doesn't have a vision of anything else. How can it? It lives all alone in the dark, damp earth.<br /><br />Only by letting go (however painful that might be) of its current life, will that little seed find itself transformed. That seed, in its current form, must die, so that it can be reborn into a much more glorious life. That seed, once it lets go, once it faces death, will break through into a life of sunshine and fresh air and water and smiling faces. That seed, once it lets go, will find much company. It will bear fruit, which means it has fulfilled its biological imperative--it has gotten its genes into the next generation.<br /><br />The most obvious way of interpreting this passage is to see it as being about death and Heaven. Eventually, we die and break out of our existential loneliness by joining our loved ones in Heaven.<br /><br />But perhaps this passage gives us a deeper insight.<br /><br />Certainly, we see a vision of Christ, who is troubled (according to traditional interpretation) by his impending death. That seed represents Christ's death as well as our own. If Christ had just lived quietly into old age, preaching and teaching, it's a pretty safe bet that you and I wouldn't be Christians. It is only by Jesus' death and rebirth that Christianity can flourish.<br /><br />We might also think about how that seed could represent our current lives. What part of your life do you need to let die, so that you can be transformed into something glorious? Past visions of Christianity stressed the glories we could look forward to in the afterlife, yet Christ comes to live with us to show us how we can live now, how we can make the Kingdom manifest on earth now.<br /><br />We spend much of our lives in the dark, damp earth--and that earth can be a metaphor for many things--what imprisons us? Is it our tendency towards anger? despair? Does the earth stand for the substances we abuse? Does the dirt represent the behaviors that keep us from fulfilling our true potential as Christians?<br /><br />Before you plunge into sadness about all the ways you've fallen short, take heart. Remember that the dirt is also a nourishing medium. Seeds won't grow without dirt. All that dirt has gone a long way to protecting you for that time when you're ready to bloom.<br /><br />God's vision for us is not one that keeps us muffled and buried and alone in the mud. All we have to do is to die to our current lives.<br /><br />That sounds so harsh. And yet, it is what is required of us. Much of our New Testament stresses that fact. Being a Christian requires that our old life dies. Otherwise, we won't flower and flourish like we should.<br /><br />In keeping with the seed metaphor, all we have to do is shuck off the husk of our former lives. All we have to do is to have the faith to face transformation. All we have to do is sprout.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-53795515798810719452024-03-08T04:51:00.002-05:002024-03-08T04:51:12.681-05:00International Women's Day and the Church<p>March is the month designated to celebrate women's history; March 8 is International Women's Day. We might ask ourselves why we still need to set time apart to pay attention to women. Haven't we enacted laws so that women are equal and now we can just go on with our lives?</p><div>Sadly, no, that is not the case. If we look at basic statistics, like how much women earn compared to men in the very same jobs, we see that the U.S. has still not achieved equality. Although the Lutheran church has been ordaining women since the 70's, although we have a female bishop in the top position, our local churches are still likely to be led by white men. If we look at violent crime rates across the past 100 years, we discover that most violent crime rates have fallen--except for rape. If we look at representation in local, state, and federal levels, we see that members of government are still mostly white and male.<br /><br />And that's in a first world country. The picture for women in developing nations is bleak. And these past few years have reminded us that legal protections can be stripped away, in every country.<br /><br />Most of us understand why a world where more women have access to equal resources would be a better world for all of us. Many of us have spent years and decades working to make that world a reality. Some of us are lucky enough to have a church that supports the vision of equality that God offers to us as what the Kingdom of God looks like.<br /><br />Not everyone has that experience. And sadly, many people have experienced discrimination against women coming at them through their churches. That damage may have happened years ago, in churches that no longer resemble the ones we have now--but the damage is done, for those people.<br /><br />We know that the world can change very quickly, and God calls us to be part of the movement to change the world in ways that are better for all--and particularly for the vulnerable and powerless. We have made great progress on that front. But there is still more to do.<br /><br />So, today, let us get started, let us continue, let us make progress. And let us pray for all who are with us on the journey. And let us pray for all of those who need us to make progress at a faster rate for their very lives and the lives of their daughters are at stake.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-78434507708234918122024-03-05T04:30:00.001-05:002024-03-05T04:30:00.150-05:00Meditation on This Sunday's GospelThe readings for Sunday, March 10, 2024:<div><br />First Reading: Numbers 21:4-9<br /><br />Psalm: Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22<br /><br />Second Reading: Ephesians 2:1-10<br /><br />Gospel: John 3:14-21<br /><br />There are some Bible texts that are so prominent that it's hard to imagine that we could find something new to say about them. This week's Gospel includes one of them, John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."<br /><br />I spent my childhood and adolescent years in a variety of small, Southern towns, and this text was often used as one to exclude people. Most responses to the text that I've seen zero in on the idea that we must believe in Jesus to have eternal life, and I'm certain that I don't want to wander into that theological muck. I used to be able to spend many hours deliberating whether or not a Hindu could go to Heaven, or an atheist or your beloved pet.<br /><br />Now I'm much more interested in how we live our lives here--not so that we get into Heaven, but so that we participate in God's visions for us and for the larger world.<br /><br />Today, let us focus on the text that reminds us that God doesn't enter the world to condemn us--many pop culture preachers forget that. But almost every verse of this week's Gospel reminds us that God comes to us out of love, not judgment. God comes, not to cast us away into the shadows. Most of us spend many hours dwelling in murkiness. God comes to lead us into the light.<br /><br />Many of us have come from Christian traditions which would find this theology strange. Many of us have been scarred by a theology of a divine judge who finds us wanting. Many of us fear hell.<br /><br />Many of us have been taught that the purpose of religion is to save us so that we get to go to Heaven not Hell. But the message that Jesus delivers again and again is that God is interested in the life we're living right now, not just the life we'll have or not have after we die. Jesus comes to announce to us that the frayed piece of cloth that we clutch is not the quilt of life that God intends for us to have. Jesus comes to show us new fabrics, new patterns, stronger stitches to hold all the pieces together.<br /><br />Our world is desperately in need of the message that Christians can tell. We live in a world of rampant Capitalism, which is doing a wide range of harm. The world needs our message of something that is more vital, something that is more important than making money and buying more stuff.<br /><br />We can be the lighthouses that lead people to safer shores--not the shores of Heaven or Hell, but the shore of a transformed life. We can be part of God's quilting team, reminding people that life is more than the threadbare scraps they see before them. We can be the ones who offer new fabrics and the knowledge of how to stitch the small pieces together into glorious new patterns, a quilt that will keep us all.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-50070444641102967512024-03-03T06:41:00.000-05:002024-03-03T06:41:04.404-05:00Hearing "Beth" (Yes, that Song by KISS) in a New Context<p>It has been a strange week-end, a week-end where I've tried to work ahead on the writing that I do for my minister job at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee, while also trying to help my spouse with plumbing and the other tasks that need to happen before the dry wall installing team arrives tomorrow. Yesterday, I made this Facebook post, which sums up the week-end in so many ways:</p><p>"I'm working on a sermon, and my spouse is listening to a KISS album while working on rerouting the plumbing, and I'm hearing the song "Beth" and thinking about how 11 year old Kristin heard this song and imagined a future life which didn't really involve plumbing or sermon writing or feeling nostalgia for men in make up."</p><p>When I was young, I saw that song as an achingly beautiful love song. Now that I am older, I am seeing it as a song that shows how difficult it is to balance the needs of a creative life with the needs of a partner. And as we listened to the album, it was a much softer kind of album than I remember it being. Of course, KISS was never one of the bands that held my heart. I found them scary, probably in the same way that many parents do.</p><p>I've been feeling a bit of despair about my lack of coherent poetry writing. I jot down a line or two, or a stanza or two, but very little comes that feels worth revising and polishing. Perhaps it's the state of the world we're in. More likely, it's that my writing energy is being channeled in other ways right now.</p><p>Take the past three days for example. I've written 3300 words for just my church job. That doesn't count any of the writing that I've done as a student. It's no wonder that there's not much wonder left for my poetry brain to feed on.</p><p>I've been in this writing state before. Poetry has returned, often in a richer way than before. I will be patient and keep the garden bed mulched. At some point, sprouts will emerge.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-24253582682734047212024-03-02T07:59:00.009-05:002024-03-02T07:59:47.685-05:00News of a Seminary Relocation<p> Yesterday was a mix: a wintry mix that turned to rain which lasted all day, lots of cooking (chicken stock and pumpkin bread), sermon research, never as much writing as I hope to do but some. And then, in the late afternoon, news that the Lutheran seminary in Columbia (LTSS) will be relocating to the Hickory, NC campus of Lenoir-Rhyne. If you want lots of information, <a href="https://www.lr.edu/ltss-future">this website</a> is fairly comprehensive.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cI6lIQrUTiISJNaYKwuiWKxhmKPb-fqGoA1atFSwNOYl7JRfhJ5FXu8A8PpsIwe0rotYLlhQO5z5X0KMxj4HrWYT7ukjrQoRR7krl1d9pNM898IOgg5bO93D91F4OiLsdU8SNWq8oztNKzL8W9wqk6tvsZyMbHRk_qC-kgv_AujPkfNeY2xUGWL8vENd/s1600/IMG_8163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cI6lIQrUTiISJNaYKwuiWKxhmKPb-fqGoA1atFSwNOYl7JRfhJ5FXu8A8PpsIwe0rotYLlhQO5z5X0KMxj4HrWYT7ukjrQoRR7krl1d9pNM898IOgg5bO93D91F4OiLsdU8SNWq8oztNKzL8W9wqk6tvsZyMbHRk_qC-kgv_AujPkfNeY2xUGWL8vENd/s320/IMG_8163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Of course, that website can't tell me some of what I'd most like to know--it can't predict the future, and it can't give me specific details about professors. There's no mention of the spiritual direction certificate program, which I imagine will relocate along with the seminary.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw7NjxfW67OWexNSor1Z7rxTpk1hXiLOsG_0ZkR4Bzc-fLros5Yo3fpl5TcyLqYvSbqjPTyylBRqj0gdBnxYoUYM1LpQfITYqp6-1aybyYx3mR76SphZvbAu43ffm9qsGeUqvml_qqMTGYASNpw0GCXOKi01Vx__AhLJJJm0zmbm8szFjMYOwH2SuYBIK/s1600/IMG_8157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw7NjxfW67OWexNSor1Z7rxTpk1hXiLOsG_0ZkR4Bzc-fLros5Yo3fpl5TcyLqYvSbqjPTyylBRqj0gdBnxYoUYM1LpQfITYqp6-1aybyYx3mR76SphZvbAu43ffm9qsGeUqvml_qqMTGYASNpw0GCXOKi01Vx__AhLJJJm0zmbm8szFjMYOwH2SuYBIK/s320/IMG_8157.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The graph that shows enrollment is shocking, but not surprising. If I'm interpreting the graph correctly, there are 40 MDiv students enrolled right now. When I attended graduation in May, I was surprised by how few seminary graduates there were; the bulk of graduates were in Occupational Therapy and other programs run out of the Columbia campus. Each time I've been on campus during the past few years, I've been surprised by how few people are on the campus. Lenoir-Rhyne is formalizing what has been happening informally for years, if not decades.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3CaG6nkoL-kfSYgY1pEtpTHfiMnn4TJcPAO6b2ZShMr4M2NF8UylWBSkQjBIqvqCcemUxyQvlA3j8wQIbzIcLMh_5vwXCd_0PkHjgjI2ulub1LO8XlzHxWA0YozcosITMwPTYuLinM9tLi_7LwWVAE31oSMtgxNlcmCYV_qe3iisVqCdkH9Jb6PS62P5/s1600/IMG_8164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3CaG6nkoL-kfSYgY1pEtpTHfiMnn4TJcPAO6b2ZShMr4M2NF8UylWBSkQjBIqvqCcemUxyQvlA3j8wQIbzIcLMh_5vwXCd_0PkHjgjI2ulub1LO8XlzHxWA0YozcosITMwPTYuLinM9tLi_7LwWVAE31oSMtgxNlcmCYV_qe3iisVqCdkH9Jb6PS62P5/s320/IMG_8164.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I do wonder what will happen to the campus. If I had several million . . . wait, it would take more than several million. Even if I could buy the campus for several million, there's still lots of maintenance work that needs to happen, millions in deferred maintenance. And I can barely manage a small house on a small piece of land; why do I think I can handle a small campus?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNWAg2NYQTyOExc9fM5AM5EV33_2MXpeIksTuPY46Vm1OfjGJXreoWZC1FJ_qNmXFZfvrRHKMyqmNV47E-41m4HWDDeOZ06sRd1m765iBXUIvudGLDDinouejG5LNwv7L5fOuznaSZFNDL9sdE44MrV6JvLJ8H47tgdts0hbpY7PoFtpdtQPPKTpAMYyC/s1600/IMG_8206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNWAg2NYQTyOExc9fM5AM5EV33_2MXpeIksTuPY46Vm1OfjGJXreoWZC1FJ_qNmXFZfvrRHKMyqmNV47E-41m4HWDDeOZ06sRd1m765iBXUIvudGLDDinouejG5LNwv7L5fOuznaSZFNDL9sdE44MrV6JvLJ8H47tgdts0hbpY7PoFtpdtQPPKTpAMYyC/s320/IMG_8206.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I imagine that the departure won't mean much to the larger city of Columbia--there are other schools and universities that are much more integral to the economy of the town and the state. And I do understand that by being at the larger Lenoir-Rhyne campus, seminarians can take a wider diversity of classes, like language classes, management classes, and a huge array of counseling classes. Those kinds of classes would have been available at the University of South Carolina, but it's not easy to take classes elsewhere and get them transferred back in, not easy for schools to create transferability. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWOLY0Q_TSqAFvfbp1Tdkr2WHBwYp5wBEc-si7iTMCPFeAYL4_6DV3S08GQGSF9kxAvdFSpb7gqWTGwwBVQ_BBhig-kJ5-yuRi3ktr47OBc5_rUZ3iN8LkN3YeEcavdabbLPsdelsvzuqZJ3alZtddR2CgD6Bj2hyphenhyphen66aiW5WKvnOzCrr_AzIqV1zCQZR_/s1600/IMG_8165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWOLY0Q_TSqAFvfbp1Tdkr2WHBwYp5wBEc-si7iTMCPFeAYL4_6DV3S08GQGSF9kxAvdFSpb7gqWTGwwBVQ_BBhig-kJ5-yuRi3ktr47OBc5_rUZ3iN8LkN3YeEcavdabbLPsdelsvzuqZJ3alZtddR2CgD6Bj2hyphenhyphen66aiW5WKvnOzCrr_AzIqV1zCQZR_/s320/IMG_8165.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel most bad for students who will have decisions to make. A move from Columbia, SC to Hickory, NC is no small thing--it's not a commutable distance. There's never a good time to endure this kind of upheaval. Potential seminarians with families to consider have probably already made different decisions. Other seminaries have done a better job with distance learning that LTSS, and students who needed flexibility probably made different choices along the way; I know that I did.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3XaRZ9fSzyqr1MPO8DhC4I2bzMEIV5JLNys5A_NIlzWY_EuEC5X_MTi4-gxEcKiCbI05CeGYYUH5GUZjwjQRsOkf_Pd4ssLxVLhcRlzeXA-6wC0K0J6gT_2_nhW1NRcV1VNMF0FpJnTjrhflkIsMl2iNiJKqn06Ic2fEVnyGacRlwZsn0-4rJiN6nWSN/s1600/IMG_8204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3XaRZ9fSzyqr1MPO8DhC4I2bzMEIV5JLNys5A_NIlzWY_EuEC5X_MTi4-gxEcKiCbI05CeGYYUH5GUZjwjQRsOkf_Pd4ssLxVLhcRlzeXA-6wC0K0J6gT_2_nhW1NRcV1VNMF0FpJnTjrhflkIsMl2iNiJKqn06Ic2fEVnyGacRlwZsn0-4rJiN6nWSN/s320/IMG_8204.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel sadness, too, because of family history. My grandfather and great uncle went to that seminary, and various friends of mine did too. I completed my certificate in Spiritual Direction there and loved the campus, even as I wondered where all the people had gone.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmh1yVPacZAaEGrX0IXDvmpQabDWIl6dKt7fvCuqU3U_ogGCyhb9ylVlqY_zMc_a-siUgGbRHCGiXckyTsIIfr0glrevlYeIDVD6EdbLxeN1WQd51bNbj3G_zR8TPuh9NfNWXkTG5ODevQ9846LLN5p9edwBvHqOdlwrvZw6e-KmBEB_819j0vZx57-tX/s1600/IMG_8168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmh1yVPacZAaEGrX0IXDvmpQabDWIl6dKt7fvCuqU3U_ogGCyhb9ylVlqY_zMc_a-siUgGbRHCGiXckyTsIIfr0glrevlYeIDVD6EdbLxeN1WQd51bNbj3G_zR8TPuh9NfNWXkTG5ODevQ9846LLN5p9edwBvHqOdlwrvZw6e-KmBEB_819j0vZx57-tX/s320/IMG_8168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel more than a quiver of worry about larger aspects of the future and the decline of all sorts of higher ed. It's not just seminary enrollments that are down. There's a lack of support for higher ed, and all the other kinds of education, in this country and beyond. I know that some people are worried about what the decline in seminaries means for the future of the Church, and I do think/hope that people are having those conversations in a larger way, in the groups that do more of the decision making. I have a sense of the larger scope of history, and I know that times of wrenching change can bring all sorts of positive developments in the aftermath.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HGeVxJeX_2s28pyEHukSzwr3sBzYxPn9umKoLwvjEjQE_Hwl6yhouTFHSj4dX1rsMCZkUPbo8eWQYPRFoKANBIbdWWP5ugZ_111S_8AauwJng_qvWlyt4JAqeuW6Y5N88jWNm5B-JOg0hz074qyZWYqQdK6PkcikWBtbIXqE1d4gLxR24OJCbGegkk-a/s1600/IMG_8158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HGeVxJeX_2s28pyEHukSzwr3sBzYxPn9umKoLwvjEjQE_Hwl6yhouTFHSj4dX1rsMCZkUPbo8eWQYPRFoKANBIbdWWP5ugZ_111S_8AauwJng_qvWlyt4JAqeuW6Y5N88jWNm5B-JOg0hz074qyZWYqQdK6PkcikWBtbIXqE1d4gLxR24OJCbGegkk-a/s320/IMG_8158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Let now be one of those periods (and let the wrenching change give way to positive developments sooner rather than later).</div></div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-31420802609464110592024-03-01T07:27:00.003-05:002024-03-01T07:27:29.992-05:00March, Meteorological Spring<p> A new month--is March coming in like a lion or a lamb? It depends. We have a wintry mix forecast for this morning, but tomorrow, the high is supposed to be in the 60's. Of course, in month we expect this meteorological whiplash. It is the first day of Spring--meteorological spring.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJjO5mgX33TaCbl4-0i1-PietvstneycDVUYF5zKWQEGgjhsPUyifPlTgFbqF4lx_f1f1nrRemyMa7cflhS9BZyZeh0xsMTK1QOqeEKsNfz6G0G9QKv70WzX1rMsgcV-vTJuCm95x_LRWkBgIW__HFmyesH9D0Ftbn2Q_c9xQrGpLy3NE3UIZ7UwcCX_g/s3056/20240301_070742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJjO5mgX33TaCbl4-0i1-PietvstneycDVUYF5zKWQEGgjhsPUyifPlTgFbqF4lx_f1f1nrRemyMa7cflhS9BZyZeh0xsMTK1QOqeEKsNfz6G0G9QKv70WzX1rMsgcV-vTJuCm95x_LRWkBgIW__HFmyesH9D0Ftbn2Q_c9xQrGpLy3NE3UIZ7UwcCX_g/s320/20240301_070742.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Earlier this week, I had wondered if my daffodil bulbs would spring into life. Around the neighborhood, we have lots of daffodils in full bloom. My yard doesn't have as much sun as the rest of the neighborhood so I haven't been surprised that my daffodils aren't showing signs of life.</p><p>And then, on Wednesday, when I took the trash cans to the curb in the late afternoon, I saw the first stalks from my bulbs, the ones that we planted along the fence line. An hour later, when my spouse noticed stalks along the other fence line. I would swear that they weren't there when I took my walk in the morning. If I had camped out by the fence line in the afternoon, would I have seen the stalks poking through the soil and leaf cover?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcLFTPCKIhcPmjfpw7iqUmz60UTZLYgrmbgazXzvVauUMt9NA9xWcOaD79DDuq2r6BOyDDMqHDQIULH5bDhM8yZc-uU-wCFFQ2PKelVN1sBozwKclSogdDXCidFROZBTWg1VjMdBg0S9AyFwhcnk6rlQyf60jFL_rmX8uUJyzaL4wDOVJwX3vts36rrPz/s3056/20240301_070807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcLFTPCKIhcPmjfpw7iqUmz60UTZLYgrmbgazXzvVauUMt9NA9xWcOaD79DDuq2r6BOyDDMqHDQIULH5bDhM8yZc-uU-wCFFQ2PKelVN1sBozwKclSogdDXCidFROZBTWg1VjMdBg0S9AyFwhcnk6rlQyf60jFL_rmX8uUJyzaL4wDOVJwX3vts36rrPz/s320/20240301_070807.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>My brain always turns to metaphors, but I'm aware of the dangers of a tired and worn out metaphor. But the metaphor of seeds and bulbs sprouting before anyone realizes what's going on--that metaphor always seems relevant to me, even though admittedly, it's not a new metaphor. </p><p>I think of all the parables of Jesus, parables that involve seeds and soil--yes, not a new metaphor at all.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2mSJwKRAdzAE6l58SpfCe0DvQqmFaqPmIHW2Aew22fyhzHQsWJ8wJzRFUq0H1Zop1Zu6ogPvJSbNtwa9PdaW8zW3PnNqw2RjdCZgCb0SXGWVqDhlTeB2AhLQvztNB1Vvx-ytfJbGl_ILSUbzjb6lYwsf4F71C1fS6DQEz4fI1l9gxluYKA8pnkPhCj1L/s3056/20240301_070835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2mSJwKRAdzAE6l58SpfCe0DvQqmFaqPmIHW2Aew22fyhzHQsWJ8wJzRFUq0H1Zop1Zu6ogPvJSbNtwa9PdaW8zW3PnNqw2RjdCZgCb0SXGWVqDhlTeB2AhLQvztNB1Vvx-ytfJbGl_ILSUbzjb6lYwsf4F71C1fS6DQEz4fI1l9gxluYKA8pnkPhCj1L/s320/20240301_070835.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>And now, the wintry mix is falling. It's much more ice/freezing rain than it is snow. Hang on, little daffodils!</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-66396334967929255452024-02-29T06:47:00.004-05:002024-02-29T06:47:51.656-05:00Best Sermon Ever?<p>My sermon for this past Sunday was one that so far has gotten the most praise, and one parishioner said it might be my best one yet. So, let me post it here, so that I remember.</p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">February 25,
2024<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">By Kristin
Berkey-Abbott<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Mark 8:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>31-38<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">When
I read today’s Gospel, I’m shocked at the way that both Peter and Jesus
respond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen again:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke
him.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That verb:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>rebuke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who does Peter think he is, rebuking Jesus?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, this isn’t the first time that
Peter has tried to be the boss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
Jesus’s response shocks me too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Jesus
says, “"Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine
things but on human things."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just wow!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter would be an infuriating disciple at
times, to be sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But to call him Satan?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is Jesus saying that Peter is evil?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if so, on the level of Satan?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">It’s
even stranger if you look at the whole chapter. In Mark 8: 29 (two verses
before today’s reading), Peter declares that Jesus is the Messiah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, in the Gospel of Mark, Peter is the
first to declare that Jesus is the Messiah, well, the first if we’re not
counting a demon or two along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People have declared Jesus a healer, someone amazing whom they haven’t
seen before--“Who is this man who ______ “ and we can fill in this blank any
number of ways:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gets rid of demons,
heals on the Sabbath, calms the sea and wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But no one puts the pieces together until Peter; Peter is the first to
see the larger cosmic picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Peter
may have recognized Jesus as the Messiah, but then he’s got a problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here is Jesus who is not behaving the way the
Messiah is supposed to behave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter
isn’t stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s been well-trained, as
all male Jews would have been, in the Law and the Prophets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s heard the passage from Genesis that we
heard today—he knows that God has made a covenant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s part of a people who have been on the
lookout for a savior for centuries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">But
Jesus isn’t behaving like the savior Peter expects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter would have heard the Psalm that we
heard today, that language of deliverance that is part of so many Psalms and so
much of the ancient prophets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter is
expecting a Messiah, yes, and expecting deliverance, but he’s been hoping for
something different than what Jesus offers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I can’t know for sure, but I imagine that Peter has imagined what life
will be like when the Romans leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s what most people long for when they live under an oppressive
regime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagine Peter and most of the
people of Jesus’ time wanted a Messiah who was a revolutionary to restore the
glory days of times past—and kick those Romans back to where they came from.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Let’s
do a thought experiment to understand both Peter and what is unfolding, the
events that lead us to Holy Week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s
try to understand why Peter is so baffled and so angry in places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Jesus appeared today, what would he need
to say to make us take him aside and rebuke him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or put another way:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>what comes to your mind when I say say “The
Salvation of the World.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I
imagine that your answer is very different than the answers that we’ve been
studying in my seminary Systematic Theology class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, let’s personalize this a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I say the word “Salvation” or “Savior”—what
comes to mind?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">You
might think about a cross.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might
think about Heaven, in terms of the place where we hope to go when we die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might think about some end time, when all
of creation is finally the way God intended it to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might think of various movies that have
been made or maybe about Bible studies that have opened your eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Now
imagine that Jesus shows up and suddenly people around you start behaving
differently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The alcoholics stop
drinking, and wonder of wonders, they don’t substitute one addiction for
another—they claim the lives they’ve been denied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All sorts of cancers—healed with just a word
or two from Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People with terrible
arthritis can walk with no pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overweight
people shed their excess pounds with no drugs, no surgery, no diets, and the
joy that they’re feeling makes others want whatever they’ve experienced.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">So
far, so good, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But maybe you’re
expecting more—you’ve seen the prelude, and you’re ready for Jesus to deliver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter was expecting Jesus to deliver a world
free of Romans and full of self-rule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
our thought experiment, what would Jesus proclaim that would horrify us in the
same way that Peter is shocked and revolted?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What would Jesus have to say to make us rebuke him?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Imagine
that Jesus tells everyone that there is no Heaven when we die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s no Hell either, but no Heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All that stuff you learned about the cross
and how Jesus suffered so that we get eternal life, which means a Heavenly
reunion with all our loved ones—imagine that Jesus tells you that your
spiritual elders lied to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve
been sold a bill of goods—Jesus says it over and over again, and not just to
you and other members of the inner circle, but to everybody.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Imagine
how upset you would be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might ask
yourself what the point of it all has been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s very fine for people to be cured of their physical ailments, but
Heaven, Heaven is the ultimate goal, isn’t it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>ISN’T IT????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Continuing
this thought experiment—we’ve imagined Jesus with us, and we know, beyond a
shadow of a doubt, that we’re seeing the Messiah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet, he’s delivering a message that
contradicts much of what you’ve always known about what salvation means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do you do?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Maybe,
like Peter, you pull Jesus aside to speak privately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you just want some answers to your
questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe you have doubts, but
you don’t want to admit you have doubts, and you hope that Jesus can
explain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe you want Jesus to fine
tune the message and explain what happens after death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe you could be OK with an alternate picture,
if only Jesus would explain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Jesus
is adamant that Peter is wrong, that so many preconceptions of what salvation
looks like and what a savior should look like are wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We may feel superior to Peter, but that’s
because we know how Peter’s part of the story ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know about salvation, don’t we?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, Peter thought he did too—until
Jesus came and changed everything he thought he knew.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Peter
wants his homeland back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want
Heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Imagine Jesus telling us that
Heaven is already here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Imagine Jesus
pointing to our fish fry that we had on Friday night and saying, “It’s
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Kingdom of Heaven is at
hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your loved ones, living and dead,
are right here when you serve fried fish and the coleslaw made from Fiona’s
mother’s recipe and every single one of us brought out favorite dessert, enough
to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What more do you need?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Like
Peter, we might want to pull Jesus aside and say, “That vision of salvation is
not going to win you many disciples.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And Jesus might point to a weary world and paint us a vision of more
service, not less:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a world where
children are cared for perhaps by adults who are missing their grandchildren
who live in other towns, a world where people gather for tea and cookies and help
with homework or English language classes, a world where people teach each
other to play musical instruments instead of only going to concerts, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>. . . on and on I could go.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">One
Bible scholar says that this passage tells us that the true cost of
discipleship is relinquishing our preconceptions of what a Messiah should say
and do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again and again, Jesus tells us
that salvation looks like love, and that love looks like service, and that
service to each other looks like Heaven to our souls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter didn’t understand that message at
first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do we?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">If
so, we’ll find that our crosses are easier to bear, that in sacrificing our
self-interests as we serve, we will build a richer life than we ever imagined.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I
hope there is a Heaven when we die, that we’re all sitting at the Welcome
Table, eating desserts from all the family recipes, seeing all our loved ones
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if we’ve lived our lives the
way Jesus tells us we should, Heaven will just be icing on the cake, because
we’ll have already tasted it here on earth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><br /><p></p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-18476047658938510942024-02-28T05:00:00.008-05:002024-02-28T05:00:00.143-05:00Meditation on This Sunday's GospelThe readings for Sunday, March 3, 2024:<div><br />First Reading: Exodus 20:1-17<br /><br /><br />Psalm: Psalm 19<br /><br /><br />Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 1:18-25<br /><br /><br />Gospel: John 2:13-22<br /><br />Ah, the moneychangers in the temple! Many of us as children (and perhaps as adults) loved this tale. Finally, a non-wimpy Jesus. A Jesus who wasn't afraid to take on the religious establishment. As a sullen teenager, I looked around church and thought, boy, Jesus would have his work cut out for him here.<br /><br />Don't get the wrong idea--I wasn't going to some church that was transgressing on any large scale, and not on any small scale, that I knew about. I just looked around and saw lots of hypocrisy. Look at all this gold, I would say. We could sell the offering plates and give the money to the poor. Why do we all buy church clothes? We could come in our jeans, and give the money that we would have spent on fancy clothes to the poor. Why don't we invite the poor to our potluck dinners?<br /><br />In retrospect, I'm surprised my parents still talk to me. What a tiresome child/teen I must have been, so self-righteous, so sure of everyone's faults and shortcomings.<br /><br />As I've gotten older, I've become interested in this story from the moneychangers point of view. We often assume that the moneychangers were scurrilous men, out to make easy money, and I'm sure that some of them were.<br /><br />However, I suspect that the majority of them would have told you that they were making salvation possible.<br /><br />Under the old covenant, people had to go to the temple to make sacrifices to wash their sins away (it's a simplified version of a complicated theology, but let me continue for a few sentences). People who farmed had animals for sacrifice. Those who didn't, or those who came from far away, had to buy their sacrifice on site. And they needed help from the moneychangers and the animal sellers.<br /><br />These people didn't know that Jesus had come to make a new covenant possible. They got up, went about their personal business, went to work, took care of their families--all the stuff that you and I do. They weren't focused on watching for the presence of God. They didn't know that they had been called to make way for a new Kingdom. They didn't know that the new Kingdom was breaking through, even as they showed up at their day jobs.<br /><br />We might take a look at our own modern lives and institutions. In what ways do we think we're participating in God's law/kingdom/plan? Are we doing the best we can? <br /><br />We might also take a look at our own modern institutions, especially religious ones. Where are we participating in God's plan? If Jesus showed up, what would he see as problematic? And how would we respond, if he pointed out something that needed some Spring cleaning, and it turned out that it was something we really cherished or thought that we were doing well?</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-76461294743318049662024-02-24T07:53:00.005-05:002024-02-24T07:53:42.682-05:00An Old-Fashioned Friday Fish Fry at Faith Lutheran<p>Last night we went to an old-fashioned fish fry, the kind that a church does when it's a Friday in Lent. We're not Catholic, but at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, TN, we do have members who grew up in other parts of the country, so they have fond memories of the fish fries done by their local churches every Friday in Lent.</p><p>In fact, in our first meeting, we were on a Zoom call. I was in D.C., the Synod rep was in Atlanta, and the church was in the fellowship hall, getting ready for one of the fish fries. I was impressed then, and I remain impressed after participating last night.</p><p>We headed out about 2:15, which meant we got there early enough to do a bit of helping with the last of the set up. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBpZ7oKbE0D39KlYoDHacT_VPifQv0_UWHvCHXHusnXjBFWCb_3NLu650tghXEpwQgFO3LhraqiEW5MCkYKrmgEAhpu_p6QcqP2_Zyd0IV9xvu_MNJqfMs-Ly8aEc7bTSgxEx4_Ar5iC4aAWMF06ygN0RB3CTcyJGEidetiYOR-pWFsBT6DnntX67HVpu/s3056/20240223_162909%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBpZ7oKbE0D39KlYoDHacT_VPifQv0_UWHvCHXHusnXjBFWCb_3NLu650tghXEpwQgFO3LhraqiEW5MCkYKrmgEAhpu_p6QcqP2_Zyd0IV9xvu_MNJqfMs-Ly8aEc7bTSgxEx4_Ar5iC4aAWMF06ygN0RB3CTcyJGEidetiYOR-pWFsBT6DnntX67HVpu/s320/20240223_162909%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I helped put pieces of cake in plastic clamshell containers, and my spouse got the fish fry area ready. And then we hit the ground running.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlkjyAVhV12v99xWm66vq5KiijkpxKssumdGzfoY8MEg3A4Ufv_OhstZqqEBIIXmXzgvfM4c-HAbu_rTWUvKkd4I_Xo0_O-kHnS0ri1RInwHEdlkNSobpJxkOETIk0_tdVBuZ8KC1rCmLFwbcZmeE82k51GR_719F2Gc-X8pnoWlpgv8ao4RGHIUESyFu/s3056/20240224_074652%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="1246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlkjyAVhV12v99xWm66vq5KiijkpxKssumdGzfoY8MEg3A4Ufv_OhstZqqEBIIXmXzgvfM4c-HAbu_rTWUvKkd4I_Xo0_O-kHnS0ri1RInwHEdlkNSobpJxkOETIk0_tdVBuZ8KC1rCmLFwbcZmeE82k51GR_719F2Gc-X8pnoWlpgv8ao4RGHIUESyFu/s320/20240224_074652%5B1%5D.jpg" width="130" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I was one of the servers on the line. When we started, I couldn't imagine we'd serve all the food, but we ran out of rolls and green beans, which after a quick run to the store, we had more to offer. The same was not true of the macaroni and cheese. We had enough for most people, but the church people who waited until the end didn't have any. We had plenty of fish, both fried and baked, and a wide variety of desserts.</p><p>The fish fry started at 5, and the biggest crowds came at 5:15, and then again at 5:30 and periodically after that. We didn't run out of seats, and everyone was seated in the fellowship hall, which isn't a huge space.</p><p>It was great to sit at a table at the end and eat with the team that pulled it all together and did the bulk of the work. There was no political discussion, no theological discussion--we mainly talked recipes, since all of the food was prepared from scratch, not by the chemists at Costco.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQGOSphRo33tLYzYfGfhgf3qHMNptJ_FNfD9QZy9WzNu0mCcTWtTv0_1iof0zaancCPGSXkjfSSIHAhSRQ9RIIncQAlKSH2S7Zi6SBcNJRr6X3vMNL6ZVc1BmOh3Da-ae5XlZTKcu5nRlfd-97e7Y6GpuGZWqNwJUMfYH8SMqDXwhRIBn5yCZ3o0yVaSB/s3056/20240223_162610%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQGOSphRo33tLYzYfGfhgf3qHMNptJ_FNfD9QZy9WzNu0mCcTWtTv0_1iof0zaancCPGSXkjfSSIHAhSRQ9RIIncQAlKSH2S7Zi6SBcNJRr6X3vMNL6ZVc1BmOh3Da-ae5XlZTKcu5nRlfd-97e7Y6GpuGZWqNwJUMfYH8SMqDXwhRIBn5yCZ3o0yVaSB/s320/20240223_162610%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>It was a fun event, and seemed to pull from many parts of the community. The church has 3 more fish fries scheduled, and I'd be willing to go to them all. </p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-34439575303312874532024-02-23T07:03:00.004-05:002024-02-23T07:03:55.906-05:00Infographics and How We Learn<p>Today I started a file to store the infographics I've been creating for my Foundations of Worship class. I've had 3 assignments now. They're not exactly sketches, although I don't have qualms about putting them in that file. But it seems better to give them their own file, now that I have three of them.</p><div>I've created three of them: a lectionary season wheel, an infographic that explains how we came to worship on Sundays (the first Christians were Jews, after all, who likely added a communion-like observance to the end of Shabbat observance), and an infographic that explains baptism.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's an interesting assignment, both from an artistic angle and a teaching/learning angle. Let me be clear that we're not being graded on our artistic skill, which is good. I've been happy with what I've produced, although it's not always matched what I had in mind. The lectionary wheel was closest to what I had in mind when I started:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHEG0gIUgwNTnnIO3k7AHrioBibOrRRnA7ah8OWkkFOUuoIyGLs0nKerRgn5TjEDzf80TDTiuludqKw7KEB0zmOI8hNaU6J_IdBXi8yyk-l240-TPt77CHb2aQU9HoRkM4F1ZUkpe_0ss500pwcrwFisA3d_-B0TbgiO0z52k3KmdaD-mBtg5jPOIQc_c/s3056/20240207_174834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHEG0gIUgwNTnnIO3k7AHrioBibOrRRnA7ah8OWkkFOUuoIyGLs0nKerRgn5TjEDzf80TDTiuludqKw7KEB0zmOI8hNaU6J_IdBXi8yyk-l240-TPt77CHb2aQU9HoRkM4F1ZUkpe_0ss500pwcrwFisA3d_-B0TbgiO0z52k3KmdaD-mBtg5jPOIQc_c/s320/20240207_174834.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>For the infographic on Sunday worship, I didn't even have much in mind for the graphic part of the assignment. I added some sunrise/sunset colors and a drawing to suggest Shabbat and called it done, even though it's more info than graphic:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgNA7yeVqIKUWXME9WyqVHFO-O4R6oh-Ij3OUmKHEuvbIHycHHCd_yPKdDQEYLFmfNKHVP2NUKOyv947lGJq2TK02FoX9Ee_iBYGFUbvxW8QQLPzXLO30wdLncREYBwAE4ySOtM1rgelZBGZIEG5_RUznSCej1SVLmCJjcIygSmEMCnwfmX1l6KVg-vn-/s3056/20240207_175219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgNA7yeVqIKUWXME9WyqVHFO-O4R6oh-Ij3OUmKHEuvbIHycHHCd_yPKdDQEYLFmfNKHVP2NUKOyv947lGJq2TK02FoX9Ee_iBYGFUbvxW8QQLPzXLO30wdLncREYBwAE4ySOtM1rgelZBGZIEG5_RUznSCej1SVLmCJjcIygSmEMCnwfmX1l6KVg-vn-/s320/20240207_175219.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not going to include the baptism infographic since it hasn't been graded, and I don't want to risk that the antiplagiarism software would flag it if I post it here before my professor grades it.</div><div><br /></div><div>From a teaching/learning perspective, it's been interesting. For the most part, we're condensing what we've read into key points, so it lets our professor see if we understand the reading. Even if someone had absolutely no sketching or doodling skills, one could do this assignment, either by using fewer illustrations or by collaging. And of course, there's now a whole world of computer generated stuff that one could create or find, if one had computing skills.</div><div><br /></div><div>Could I use the idea of an infographic in my English classes that I teach? It's obvious how I could use infographics in Literature classes. But could I use them in a Composition class? Let me ponder this.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-59977010433546978842024-02-22T05:09:00.002-05:002024-02-22T05:09:22.569-05:00Baptism Infographic without the Info<p>I am working on an infographic on baptism for my Foundations of Worship class. I'm not going to post it until it's graded--I don't want antiplagiarism software to find a blog post and think that I'm cheating.</p><p>But what I really want to use for an infographic is this picture:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJKWw7ndijFSLEq7iD-tK_dHXLDEIKHtgrONfyb9z7YVaEBqzkrvV7L0bj-bUyWtCLhURqNIwAk0HuLeH1cXqb3RqvtI7AYhZ-OIWF6dj96yXXWajNIkiu11uqjg9znEMU4yS5whJSeZFXj7I9hUWa9iwQFyuqhvVHAr4cjP552LhyphenhyphenaePdPAWCvmw5unJ/s3056/20240129_072125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2253" data-original-width="3056" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvJKWw7ndijFSLEq7iD-tK_dHXLDEIKHtgrONfyb9z7YVaEBqzkrvV7L0bj-bUyWtCLhURqNIwAk0HuLeH1cXqb3RqvtI7AYhZ-OIWF6dj96yXXWajNIkiu11uqjg9znEMU4yS5whJSeZFXj7I9hUWa9iwQFyuqhvVHAr4cjP552LhyphenhyphenaePdPAWCvmw5unJ/s320/20240129_072125.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Yep, that's me, with the first baby I ever baptized. It was such a joyful experience. </p><p>Of course, I can't use it for my school work. There's really no information about baptism with this picture. But it brings a smile to my face every time I see it. I should get a frame for it.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-91734490725839293782024-02-20T05:15:00.002-05:002024-02-20T05:15:47.061-05:00Meditation on This Sunday's GospelThe readings for Sunday, February 25, 2024:<br /><br /><br />First Reading: Genesis 17:1-7, 15-16<br /><br />Psalm: Psalm 22:22-30 (Psalm 22:23-31 NRSV)<br /><br />Second Reading: Romans 4:13-25<br /><br />Gospel: Mark 8:31-38<br /><br /><br />In Sunday's Gospel, Jesus gives us fairly stark terms about what it means to be a Christian, and it's worth thinking about, in our world where Christianity has become so distorted and used to justify so many questionable activities.<br /><br />Over the last 50 or so years of the 20th century, many people came to see Christianity as just one more way to self-enlightenment or self-improvement. Many people combined Christian practices with Eastern practices, and most of them showed that they had precious little knowledge of either.<br /><br />Or worse, people seemed to see Christianity as a path to riches. We see this in countless stories of pastors who took money from parishioners and, instead of building housing for homeless people, built mansions for themselves. We see this in the megachurch which is held up as an optimum model, the yardstick by which we smaller churches are measured and come up lacking. The bestseller lists are full of books which promise a Christian way to self-fulfillment or riches, while books of sturdy theology will never be known by most readers.<br /><br />Dietrich Bonhoeffer is one of a multitude of theologians who warns us against this kind of thinking, of what Christianity can do for us. He calls it cheap grace, this salvation that doesn't require us to change our comfortable lives (or worse, tells us to expect more comfort). He says, "Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate. Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a person must knock" (<i>A Testament to Freedom</i> 308).<br /><br />Jesus reminds us again and again that Christians are to strive NOT to put themselves at the center of their lives. Taking our Christian lives seriously is sure to put us on a collision course with the larger world. Christ warns us that we may even lose our lives. I suspect that he means this on several different levels, yet it is worth reminding ourselves of how many martyrs there have been, even in the late-twentieth century, people who were murdered because they dared to take Christianity seriously and called on corrupt governments to change their practices or went to places where the rest of us are afraid to go to help the poor of the world.<br /><br />If we don't put ourselves at the center of our lives (and what a countercultural idea that is!), then who should be there? Many of us deny ourselves for the good of our children, for our charity work, for our bosses. Yet that's not the right answer either.<br /><br />God requires that we put God at the center of our lives. Frankly, many of us are much better at putting our children first or our students or our friends--but God? Many of us are mystified at how we even begin to do that.<br /><br />A good place to start is with prayer. You don't need a formal time to pray--just check in throughout the day. Go back to the practices that your parents probably tried to instill in you: say grace before meals, say your bedtime prayers, think about who could use God's assistance, and use your prayer time to remind God of those people. If you feel awkward, go back to old standards, like saying the Lord's Prayer or reading a Psalm.<br /><br />Make God a daily and a weekly priority: go to church services. Lent gives you the opportunity to experience different kinds of services. Take advantage of these.<br /><br />Once God is at the center of your life, then you are more well-equipped to care for the world. We are not emotionally equipped to deal with the cares of the world, especially now that we have 24 hour reporting on every catastrophe that happens. But with God at our core, we can cope.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-4407135479789311072024-02-19T06:08:00.002-05:002024-02-19T06:08:08.119-05:00Creating First Communion Curriculum<p>Yesterday was the last day of the 3 week First Communion class that I created. I think that it went well; next week, we will celebrate the first communion of 3-4 children.</p><p>When I first started as the Synod Appointed Minister at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, TN, I noticed that one child wasn't taking part in communion, but other children of all ages were. I asked his mom if there was a reason, and she said she wanted him to have first communion instruction before participating fully. I could respect that, but I wasn't sure that it should be me. Still, I started thinking about how we would do that.</p><p>I assumed that there are resources out there for people like me who are leading such a class for the first time. As much as I can tell, there are not. There are lots of books explaining communion on a level that small children can understand, but there isn't any curriculum that I've been able to find. And more important, I haven't been able to find any sort of teacher's guide. I wanted something that said: On day one, do this, discuss this, and here are some Bible passages. On day two, do this, discuss this, and here are some Bible passages.</p><p>I am part of a Facebook group of ELCA clergy, and a few months ago, they had a thread that talked about getting children ready for first communion. The people who contributed to the thread had some great ideas, so I cut and pasted them into a document. I started thinking about how I'd adapt them to my context. And thus, I came up with an idea for a shorter kind of program, just a few weeks, to help children understand what we're doing.</p><p>I've been taking notes about what I said and did, and I'll polish it, and give it to my contact at the Synod, which will be part of my internship. My internship director will post it to several website resources. Even if it's not useful to any other person, it will be useful to me, should I need to remember what I did and why.</p><p>I do realize that many churches have moved away from this kind of instruction. It makes me wonder about how we do Confirmation in the larger church--and how very small churches like Faith Lutheran can do Confirmation well. I know that there's a lot more in the way of curriculum out there--or is there? I used to think that we had lots of First Communion resources.</p><p>I think parents have a hunger for better instruction, and they should be able to expect the leaders of their church to do that. I also realize that church leaders are expected to do lots and lots, especially if it's a small church with no real staff. I am in a weird position, a clearly temporary position where many of the activities I'd be doing as a full-time, permanent person are not expected of me. Creating curriculum makes me happy, and I'm glad to have time to do it.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-41665353961045445002024-02-16T06:50:00.003-05:002024-02-16T06:50:15.104-05:00Ash Wednesday/Valentine's Day SermonI really liked my Wednesday sermon for Ash Wednesday. I won't always be able to preach this way--Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day will be on the same day only one more time during my lifetime (2029), so let me post it here:<br /><br />Here we are at a strange confluence of holidays—not Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday—that confluence goes back at least as far as medieval times, when many Christians, if they were wealthy enough to afford the items in the first place, gave up sugar and meat and fat and alcohol for Lent. So, as Ash Wednesday approached, they had to get all those items out of the house--thus, a festive party opportunity. And now, we continue that tradition with our Shrove Tuesday pancake suppers and Mardi Gras festivities. <br /><br />No, I’m talking about this day when we get to celebrate both Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday. For some people, this mix of love and mortality might be unwelcome. But let’s sit with it a bit. We will only have Ash Wednesday falling on Valentine’s Day one more time this century, in 2029. <br /><br />When I was young, I hated Ash Wednesday, which seemed to be a holiday designed to tell us that we’re worthless sinners. And to be honest, I also hated Valentine’s Day, a holiday designed to remind schoolchildren how much some are loved and others aren’t. I have fond memories of making Valentine’s mailboxes out of shoeboxes. We had classroom parties with cupcakes brought in by moms (not dads, in those days, always moms). It was a different time, and no one made sure that everyone got a Valentine’s Day card, the way that some schools do now. You might get a bundle, or you might get none, for those of us who went to elementary school in the early 70’s. <br /><br />To be fair, I was in the middle range. I had no reason to hate the holiday. But it was always that fear that no one would give me a Valentine, that fear that I would have an empty box at the end of the day. <br /><br />Ash Wednesday provokes a similar fear in me, with its message of mortality. Worse, it’s a fear that I know is a reasonable one. Like so many of us, I am afraid that I will be the little old lady who outlives her friends and family. Sure, I have younger friends, in addition to the ones my age and older, but I’m no dummy. I’ve already outlived some of my younger colleagues and family members. We are dust, and every day that goes by means that we are closer to returning to dust. <br /><br />Our texts tonight remind us of all the ways that humans try to forget that we’re made of dust. Maybe we’ve tried to stay on the right side of God with our religious practices, praying and fasting. The words of Jesus remind us to enter into these practices with the correct spirit. We can do everything that is helps us build Christian community and still find ourselves criticized and worse. The words of Paul in Corinthians remind us that God sees what we are doing and God blesses us, even if the larger world does not. <br /><br />But frankly, that’s cold comfort when I think of ending up alone with everything I love in ashes. In tonight’s Gospel, Jesus acknowledges that we live in a world where thieves can steal and moths and rust destroy. He doesn’t try to explain God’s wisdom in creating this world. He doesn’t try to convince us that we should look on the bright side of our Ash Wednesday existence. He does remind us that our hearts should be elsewhere, that we should be focused on a treasure that’s not going to leave us. <br /><br />Just as Saint Valentine is credited with delivering messages between lovers, Jesus delivers a message from God. Jesus comes to tell us how profoundly we are loved by God. I imagine some of his first century audience as similar to a fourth grade child who never received a Valentine, never got an invitation to a birthday party, never felt included. We see the powerful impact of this message, as Jesus cures people of all that brings them woe and keeps them excluded. Jesus declares God’s love for all of creation, from the least to the ones that already have plenty of love. And Jesus goes many steps further by showing us how to manifest more of that love in our human lives—by caring for each other, so that we don’t have to fear being the one who has outlived all of our family and friends and connections. What an amazing Valentine Jesus delivers to our cardboard mailboxes! <br /><br />It's a Valentine message that I don’t always appreciate, that in God’s design, there’s room for me and there’s room for the cancer cell. It’s a Valentine message that I struggle to emulate, this love for all of creation. Our Lenten disciplines and enrichments can help us be open to receiving this love, even if we don’t understand it fully—and our Lenten disciplines can embolden us to extend that love to others. <br /><br />Our knowledge of our mortality should inspire us to form more connections, not fewer. Yes, everything we love will be lost, but God promises that a new life will emerge. <br /><br />As you come forward to receive the ash, let yourself reflect on all that it means. Traditionally the ashes come from the burning of last year’s Palm Sunday fronds. In the same way, the universe recycles all—we are dust, yes, but it’s dust made of decomposing galaxies and last year’s festivals and everyone who ever walked before us. We don’t have limitless amounts of time in this human form we inhabit now, but God reaches out to us across space and time, in the words of the prophets and psalmists, in the incarnation of Jesus, in the creation that God is always making and remaking. <br /><br />Yes, we are dust, and to dust we shall return. But Ash Wednesday doesn’t give us the complete picture. Ash Wednesday points us to Easter, God’s ultimate Valentine message of love where God shows us that even though earthly powers and principalities join together to defeat the ultimate message of Love that Jesus brings, those powers and principalities will not succeed. Easter gives us the promise of resurrection. Everything we love will turn to dust, but dust is not the final incarnation. From that dust will come something new, something shining, something celestial in its beauty.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-28344880849769053452024-02-15T04:30:00.039-05:002024-02-15T04:30:00.142-05:00Meditation on This Sunday's GospelThe readings for Sunday, February 18, 2024:<div><br /><br />First Reading: Genesis 9:8-17<br /><br />Psalm: Psalm 25:1-9 (Psalm 25:1-10 NRSV)<br /><br />Second Reading: 1 Peter 3:18-22<br /><br />Gospel: Mark 1:9-15</div><div><br /></div>We begin Lent back in the country of baptism. Once again, we hear the story of the baptism of Christ. Didn't we just cover this material a few weeks ago? Indeed we did. What a versatile Gospel text, suitable for both the early days of the Epiphany season and the early days of Lent. There's a lesson here for us.<div><br /></div>In today’s Gospel, we see Christ going through the stages of the life of a Christian, in a sort of fast-forward filmstrip: baptism, wilderness/desert time of desolation and doubt, temptation, death of mentors, carrying on with life’s work anyway. Why should we, thousands of years later, think that life will be any different for us?<div><br /></div><div>Most Lutherans were baptized as babies. Like Jesus, we too are welcomed into a larger context before we've done anything. We can't prove ourselves; we can't even feed ourselves.</div><div><br /></div><div>But we don't get to stay in the land of grace and good feelings very long. Even Jesus faces a wilderness time, the kind of time that those of us who have been alive any amount of time at all will remember. We feel the presence of Satan, of everything that could possibly go wrong going even more deeply wrong. Surrounded by wild beasts, we despair. But if we can come out of the other side of a wilderness time, we'll find ourselves in the company of angels, who minister to us in our time of need. Maybe those angels are members of our family. Maybe they're our church community. Maybe it's something more clinical, a doctor or a therapist. Or maybe, in the dark night of our souls, Divine beings care for us.</div><div><br /></div><div>But here, too, the Gospel offers both solace and warning. We may find ourselves put to death by the ruling authorities, the way that John and Jesus were. Or maybe it's a more metaphorical death--the larger culture has many ways of killing us, our physical bodies and our souls.</div><div><br /></div><div>We can't say we haven't been warned, just like Jesus must have known the forces that he would put into motion. Still, the world has need of us, and God has need of us, to do the work of ministering to the world. The Gospel closes with Jesus moving forward.</div><div><br /></div><div>There is an urgency to this Gospel, a pace that seems appropriate to these days just after Ash Wednesday has reminded us that we're not here for very long. We have lingered too long in the land of self-loathing, in the dark night of the soul with Satan's voice hissing in our ears, in the wilderness where beasts want to rip us apart. Our Lenten journey is at hand. It is time to do the work of discerning what is truly important.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-74873330807226939712024-02-14T07:32:00.000-05:002024-02-14T07:32:12.995-05:00Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day<p> It is both Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day, a confluence of holidays that will only happen again once this century in 2029. Observant folks may remember that it happened in 2018, and people like me, who do some Google searching (which is not nearly as effective as it once was) will discover that it happened in 1923, 1934, and 1945.</p><div>I need to write a sermon for tonight's worship service at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee, and get the Communion bread made. I am hoping that this blogging helps to order my thoughts. Part of the problem with an Ash Wednesday sermon is that there are so many fruitful directions. But since there aren't many Ash Wednesdays that are celebrated on Valentine's Day, maybe I'll use this juxtaposition.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to my YouTube channel and was surprised in a delighted kind of way to remember how many video sermons I made during the pandemic. Here's a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfKHvh7Q22o&t=301s">video sermon </a>that I created for Ash Wednesday 2021--it holds up well.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am intrigued by how many of my Ash Wednesday meditations from past years didn't reference the Bible texts at all. But in some ways, that makes sense. I wasn't preparing a sermon after all. But for tonight, let me think about all of the texts. We are using the passage from Joel, not Isaiah--drat. I love verse 12 from Isaiah 58: "Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in."</div><div><br /></div><div>I am also thinking about my sermon and about how few of us need reminders of our mortality. Most of the members that will hear my sermon tonight are over 50 years old; sadly, these days, death is not unfamiliar to us. My seminary professors might remind me to ask myself as I'm writing: where is the good news in this?</div><div><br /></div><div>The good news is the animating breath of God. We are dust, yes, galactic ash, the remains of stars and galaxies. But it is the breath of God that transforms. And that breath of God is love itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am writing this blog post as a fire burns in the fireplace, as the bread for tonight's communion is in the oven set to proofing temperature. The first pinks of sunrise are making their way across the mountain range that I can see through the mostly leafless trees. Yesterday I saw a field of daffodils at the North Carolina welcome center as I drove home from teaching at Spartanburg Methodist College. Part of me loved seeing this eruption of daffodils, but part of me thought, no, no, it's too soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>That imagery can work for Ash Wednesday too. Let me see what I come up with.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-65330274401607794332024-02-13T06:06:00.001-05:002024-02-13T06:06:21.811-05:00The Day before Ash WednesdayHappy Shrove Tuesday! Happy Mardi Gras! Last week, when I mentioned to my Tuesday/Thursday classes that we'd be meeting on Mardi Gras, I got blank looks. I still don't know whether they were blank looks because my students haven't ever heard of Mardi Gras or because they see me as an old lady who can't possibly understand the joys of cheap, plastic beads and buckets of alcoholic drinks.<div><br /></div><div>I do realize that both may be true.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I usually don't have much in the way of plans for the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. But tonight, my local Lutheran church is having a pancake supper to raise funds to send the youth to the big Gathering later this year. And we are planning to go.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I say my local Lutheran church, which means the one around the corner from my Lutheridge house, the one with the quilt group that has become dear to my heart. I rarely worship there anymore, because I go to my other church, Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee, where we'll celebrate Ash Wednesday together; they, too, are having a pancake supper tonight. And I'm still a member of my South Florida church, Trinity Lutheran in Pembroke Pines; they had beignets this past Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div>For my three classes today, I'll present three different love poems and have them write a bit. I decided to go with love poems and not Ash Wednesday poems, and I decided to stay away from traditional love poetry. Here's what we'll be doing, if you want to read along:</div><div><br /></div><div>The poem that's closest to a traditional love poem is Leah Furnas' <a href="https://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php%3Fdate=2006%252F12%252F02.html">"The Longley-Weds Know."</a> The one with the biggest Ash Wednesday vibe is Maggie Smith's <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/89897/good-bones">"Good Bones"</a>--it's a hopeful Ash Wednesday vibe, but an Ash Wednesday vibe nonetheless. And the poem that is the one that makes me feel a spark of hope in an Ash Wednesday kind of way is Naomi Shihab Nye's <a href="https://poets.org/poem/gate-4">"Gate A-4."</a></div><div><br /></div><div>I wasn't able to find much poetry with an outright Ash Wednesday theme, apart from T. S. Eliot, whom I'm not going to tackle with first year students. And I thought about my own--I've got a series of Ash Wednesday poems, but I don't feel like including them. I've posted some of them here in the past. Maybe tomorrow I'll unveil a new one. Maybe today, I'll write a new one.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-76104916265902780412024-02-12T06:23:00.003-05:002024-02-12T06:23:31.689-05:00My Bible Study for Lent 2024<p>My internship project was putting together a Bible study for Lent for the Southeastern Synod, my internship site. I'm really happy with it. It gives discussion questions, quotes from scholars, and ideas for ways to engage with the Sunday lectionary texts through creative projects using materials on hand and/or using activities from different spiritual disciplines. I also inserted some photos to make it easier to see where we're moving to a new week.</p><p>It's free and available for everyone to use; go <a href="https://www.elca-ses.org/formation">here</a> where it's on the website if you scroll down, or go<a href="chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://www.elca-ses.org/files/content/committees/formation/devotionals/lent+2024+bible+study+for+southeastern+synod.pdf"> here</a> to access it directly.</p><p>I enjoyed creating all of it, but going through photos to add. I used my own photos because I know I have the rights to them. I liked thinking about the surrounding material and choosing photos to match. For example, one of the spiritual disciplines to try is walking a labyrinth. I chose this photo:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2KMSUd4caolFNt5YhTgVr9lBhgWf2oJQ__MKqzH7JL7-4NtXQYaYfKjLx1m6U31XdE7qjCS6vn7rstBNJAhoisq53qAIVREKoToNxYdncp-ly7UFyTNlUzffcVqa_vAxwRXVJJjOQIGBqfBl0_eStL3v-_HsGaRgPIriv1f6Dz1V_DFLYDupnAJEHhWM/s3072/labyrinth%20sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy2KMSUd4caolFNt5YhTgVr9lBhgWf2oJQ__MKqzH7JL7-4NtXQYaYfKjLx1m6U31XdE7qjCS6vn7rstBNJAhoisq53qAIVREKoToNxYdncp-ly7UFyTNlUzffcVqa_vAxwRXVJJjOQIGBqfBl0_eStL3v-_HsGaRgPIriv1f6Dz1V_DFLYDupnAJEHhWM/s320/labyrinth%20sign.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>It was also a delight to go back and use the pictures to reflect on the wonderful experiences I've had. Even though I haven't had a once in a lifetime trip, like going to Iona or the Holy Land, I've taken advantage of a lot of opportunities that came my way.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-6891379852824523972024-02-11T05:56:00.004-05:002024-02-11T05:56:20.647-05:00Sketching for Schoolwork<p>I am really enjoying my Foundations of Preaching class. I'm impressed with the wide range of activities that we do to show that we've learned the material. </p><div>I'm also surprised by which parts take the most time. A few weeks ago, we had to make a PowerPoint to teach others about the worship traditions that formed us. Not only did that project take less time than I had budgeted (hurrah!), but it also made my inner artist happy, although my inner tech person was exasperated with the deficiency of the software (and unwilling to learn a new system like Canva in short order).<div><br /></div><div>The project for last week seemed like it would be solidly in my skill set:</div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;">A creative activity! Imagine you are trying to explain Christian concepts of time for a child/youth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;">1) Draw your own lectionary wheel, with informative notes on each season. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;">2) Draw an infographic on the Christian concept of time, including how "Sunday" was established as a tradition.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;">3) Upload drawings as your activity submission.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0in 0.5in;"><span style="color: #262626; font-family: "inherit", serif; font-size: 12pt;">*You will not be graded on your artistic talent. ;) <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div><div>I spent so much time on this one. Part of it was my fault; I didn't sketch with a pencil, so once I made a mistake, I had to start over. It was hard for me to figure out how to divide the lectionary wheel, since some seasons like the time after Easter and the time after Epiphany vary widely from year to year. And I wasn't sure what an infographic should include, the proportion of pictures to words.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not going to post my work here, not until it gets graded. I would hate for the plagiarism detection software to flag the work that I turned in, because the software found it here. Plus, it speaks to another issue I had: the photo isn't as good as the work itself. I'm not sure that here you would be able to see it clearly.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now it's off to Faith Lutheran, where in addition to preaching, I am leading a several week session to get children ready for First Communion. It's an interesting endeavor, and I'm really enjoying it.</div><div><br /></div></div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3140892978654256514.post-73351759384294345082024-02-09T09:33:00.000-05:002024-02-09T09:33:04.273-05:00Creation Theories<p>Yesterday, I posted this picture, with this Facebook post: "One of these things does more to affirm my belief in a benevolent God than the others (the cup contains coffee from a pod, and the graham crackers contain chocolate frosting). Discuss."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNqFTmHdzNe_Vnz5B7TgmvAUF9OoWcugRyx5usWiFOLZp9BXLeC0Iwe0RXEUfNAqICmaVrwTCsA2PXg3Srue8bRYYRzrpdeoB6ZdW1xjmUWDMQkwis8s9Yat37RuXTIKwGIvhqGNG2SNt1FWdQMIY7WPyu1K5wl_tP8K5wZOSF_v_Ew4fkwGk0Icjcr8x/s960/426600681_10231196322388940_2953644154740197494_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNqFTmHdzNe_Vnz5B7TgmvAUF9OoWcugRyx5usWiFOLZp9BXLeC0Iwe0RXEUfNAqICmaVrwTCsA2PXg3Srue8bRYYRzrpdeoB6ZdW1xjmUWDMQkwis8s9Yat37RuXTIKwGIvhqGNG2SNt1FWdQMIY7WPyu1K5wl_tP8K5wZOSF_v_Ew4fkwGk0Icjcr8x/s320/426600681_10231196322388940_2953644154740197494_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Yesterday was a day of modest revelations. I read <i>God in Creation</i> while waiting for students to come for their individual conferences. Moltmann is the Systematics theologian around whom we're structuring our two semesters of Systematic Theology. So far, my reaction has been a shrug, but I really liked yesterday's reading.</p><p>As I was getting ready to go to school, I wished I had a pen with purple ink and a finer tip. And I remembered the Copic multiliner pens I bought a few years ago. They worked perfectly, for both writing on student papers in a conference and for underlining as I read. I bought a variety of colors, and I should really use them before they dry up. And now I have some ideas about how to do that--they aren't useful for sketching, the way I thought they would be.</p><p>But no, the real revelation was the graham cracker and chocolate frosting concoction. When I got to campus, the glass walled conference room was being set up for the weekly Academic Affairs meeting. As I walked back and forth to the only working printer, I kept my eyes on the graham cracker treats. Were they sandwiching peanut butter or chocolate or Nutella?</p><p>I have noticed that the treats from the weekly meeting are often set out in the break room after the meeting, and sure enough, later in the morning, there they were. The break room has a Keurig and pods, so I helped myself. What a delicious treat.</p><p>I told the admin assistant how much I had enjoyed them, and lo and behold, the Vice President for Academic Affairs had made them; his mother used to make them when he was a kid. I asked if she thought it was just frosting from a can, and she said that she thought it was from scratch: "He cooks a lot--he even makes his own pasta!" I thought it tasted better than canned frosting.</p><p>In fact, it tasted so good that I had three of them. I was relieved to see that they were all gone when I came back from class. Here's a close up of one of them:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4bBjjSLXUN8h_VyLbxVwf0Zzh0ko-p712_RHqwtJfAihlTliGEDbjTLDaD8-ldWhgQ_BtU4aiChJ6RJaDnTfc8bGBNIqFwKjqvdl8hoho9tF6exCWaOkSbiovnsrByE5hd6_D1NEdImPoM1bD4tRsxl36Mf_Gh8f8kDWk2abr_p-NtEU3czO8zMOvEjf/s3056/20240208_114300%5B1%5D.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4bBjjSLXUN8h_VyLbxVwf0Zzh0ko-p712_RHqwtJfAihlTliGEDbjTLDaD8-ldWhgQ_BtU4aiChJ6RJaDnTfc8bGBNIqFwKjqvdl8hoho9tF6exCWaOkSbiovnsrByE5hd6_D1NEdImPoM1bD4tRsxl36Mf_Gh8f8kDWk2abr_p-NtEU3czO8zMOvEjf/s320/20240208_114300%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I finished the day by going to class by way of Zoom, a good Systematic Theology class; I am intrigued by what some of my classmates assert about Adam and Eve and that garden. Once again, I think about what a strange seminarian I am, with my poet's sensibility, my academic training/Ph.D. in literary criticism, my decades of rebellious rejection of much of traditional Christianity. </p><p>As we talked about Adam and Eve and other creation myths (familiar to me, but not to everyone) from both that time period and much, much earlier, I started this sketch:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRYSfIt-T4rUa3icfELmL2u7FR8xybjoKf4Gu85tPTURr6QyNjq2htwE8rFyLVtQH-gOxLXO-P1H6EzjUg4Ddkg1mn7HPaF9hFiQvlXcwZ-WNQgSsB2kQLLy7lgTV6LbmLK-cpMUrwAgawyusI1p7cqhk69SJljGIcccNgDiCZWXSjLEwj-9yJjwdrWJJ/s3056/20240209_084739%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRYSfIt-T4rUa3icfELmL2u7FR8xybjoKf4Gu85tPTURr6QyNjq2htwE8rFyLVtQH-gOxLXO-P1H6EzjUg4Ddkg1mn7HPaF9hFiQvlXcwZ-WNQgSsB2kQLLy7lgTV6LbmLK-cpMUrwAgawyusI1p7cqhk69SJljGIcccNgDiCZWXSjLEwj-9yJjwdrWJJ/s320/20240209_084739%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Why did I give Eve wings? I didn't start with that intention. But Eve's upper back and left shoulder had a feathery look, and I thought it worked in some ways--plus, I was covering a mistake (there's a life lesson in here somewhere). In some ways, I think I've drawn Eve that looks more like a muppet than a human. I'm OK with that too.</p><p>So, yes, a good day, a day that left me tired, but in a good way.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0