The Easter Story from the Gardener's Perspective

Those of you familiar with my poetry know that I've had fun imagining Jesus alive and moving around physically as a human in today's world.  I've written about Jesus on the softball team, Jesus bowling, Jesus showing up to do hurricane clean up.

I also enjoy taking less prominent characters from Bible stories and spinning a poem.  One year, when hearing the Easter story, I zoned in on Mary thinking that the risen Jesus was the gardener.  That tidbit made me think that there must have been a real gardener, and that realization made me wonder about the Easter story from the gardener's perspective.

That poem has just been published here, in Eye to the Telescope, in a collection of poems that are persona poems.  You'll need to scroll down to get to my poem.

You may ask, what's a persona poem?  The editor, Jeannine Hall Gailey, explains:  "The definition of persona poetry is poetry that is told from the first-person perspective of a character who explicitly is not the poet; the word 'persona' is derived from the Latin for 'mask.' I like persona poetry because it allows poets to use a lot of the tools available to fiction writers; it gives poets the permission to use the imagination, to free themselves from the strictures of autobiography. Speculative poets already push the limits of imagination in their work, so this is a uniquely ambitious kind of project. I also like persona poetry because in it, you can choose to retell stories from a different perspective—often a perspective left out of the original story. If you are interested in reading a little more about the definitions of and uses of persona poetry, you can check out this essay on the subject, available here."

When I first started writing poems using Jesus or other people in the Bible, it felt very dangerous, almost profane.  I've had lots of teachers who always encouraged us to push through our fears, who said that if the writing felt dangerous, then we were on the track of a subject worth pursuing.  And so, I pushed on.

I've found that the process of writing the poems gives me new appreciation for the Bible stories.  And I've also found that for many of my readers, the poems that felt dangerous when I was writing them are often the ones that speak to them most forcefully.

Even if you don't think of yourself as a poet, you might try something similar as a spiritual experiment.  Take a page of paper and imagine Jesus moving with you throughout your day.  What would Jesus say to you?  What would Jesus see in our world?

Or, take a Gospel story and think about the humans in the story that don't have a voice.  I've long been intrigued by a reference to Simon Peter's mother-in-law.  What must she have thought about the events of Peter's life?  And mother-in-law presupposes a wife--but that wife is never mentioned that I can see.  Still, the idea of Peter's wife--I still haven't written that poem.  I think of Peter's wife, at home, taking care of the family fishing business, while Peter goes about the business of the early church.

So, take out some paper and adopt an attitude of play.  God won't mind.  Our God is not only an awesome God, but also a playful God--if you don't believe me, look at the variety of creation, and see if you don't see a sense of play at work in the world. 

Arcing Toward Justice

I've written about Martin Luther King numerous times before, and today, I've written this post about MLK and nonviolent resistance for the Living Lutheran website.

My creativity blog has this post with some additional links to some of my previous writing about MLK, along with a poem.

I also write about saints on this theology blog periodically, which leads me to wonder if MLK will ever be canonized.  I could make the case that the Civil Rights legislation of the 1960's was proof of miracles that we can attribute to MLK.  My thoughts in this direction make me think about what the feast day of Martin Luther King would look like.

Well, we already have a glimpse of that, don't we?  Some communities would have parades, while others would engage in social justice projects.  We would sing songs like "This Little Light of Mine" and "We Shall Overcome."  We'd remind each other not to let evil turn us around.

So, on this day where we honor the dreams, both realized and yet-to-come-true, of both Martin Luther King and the Civil Rights Movement, let's continue to dream of justice, to determine that we will continue to work towards that vision of a day when we'll be judged on the content of our character.  Let's continue the spiritual formation of having a character that's worthy.

What Word Do You Need Today?

When I was at Mepkin Abbey this past November, I was intrigued by this basket of ceramic circles, each one with a word on it:

They're a variation of the old worry stone, a talisman we can keep in a pocket, a physical object that will serve as a reminder:  a reminder not to worry, a reminder of what we want more of in our life, a reminder of the better life that God has offered to us.

I found myself drawn to the words "dream," "integrity," and "serenity."  We have been in a season of shrinking and job loss in my workplace, as well as in the larger landscape of workplaces in the U.S.  I want to dream of new vistas, instead of reacting in a panic.  I want a job that seamlessly fits with my values, a job that doesn't sacrifice integrity for the sake of paying my bills.  I want the serenity that comes from trusting that God, who knows all the sparrows and every single hair on my head, will provide all that I can dream of, and more.

God is not hemmed in by our shallow imaginations.  God has good things in store for us.  Our bowls will be full of good food that will sustain us.

Small Kindnesses and MLK

During this week-end where we remember Martin Luther King and the huge gains of the Civil Rights Movement, I think it's important to stress that small kindnesses can change the world too.  I yearn for sweeping policy shifts as much as the next person.  I long to be remembered for transforming my society.  But we're not all called to do that.

We are called to be kind to the people around us.  When I think about yesterday, a day of tiring meetings, classroom observations, and other work duties, what I will remember is the kindness of the student worker in the bookstore where I went to pick up my new campus parking sticker.

I said, "I'm here to get a parking sticker, but I just realized I brought no ID with me."

The student worker said, "But I know that you work here."  And he handed me the forms to fill out.  I might mention that these forms only require information about my car (make, model, license plate #).  The form doesn't require information from my driver's license.  It does require my employee number, which I've memorized.

I've had other people who also knew I work with them insist on seeing my ID.  And here's a student who says, "You came to observe my class today.  I know who you are."  Both of those responses came from workers who were lower in the caste system which is academia.  One response insisted on knocking me down a peg whilst being unhelpful.  One response bestowed kindness and gave me a sense of well-being that lasted all afternoon.

I could go further and say that these kindnesses can transform the world just as surely as the larger Civil Rights Movement did.  I could argue that the Civil Rights Movement was rooted in the need for small kindnesses.  Those early activists gathered together to comfort each other after being in the larger world that was full of disrespect and meanness.

Imagine how the world might have been different if the Montgomery public transit system had been committed to small kindnesses:  every weary person gets a seat on the bus after a long day at work.  If Rosa Parks hadn't had to make a stand by not standing, would the Civil Rights Movement have been launched?  Certainly not in the same way.

Small kindnesses soften our souls so that we're ready to attempt larger kindesses.  If we treat the people in our immediate circle of daily life with gentleness, maybe we'll be ready for the transformative work that the world needs.  Maybe we, too, can follow in the very large footsteps of Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King.

An Accessible Book on Simplicity for Your New Year's Reading

Many of us probably made New Year's Resolutions that revolved around simplifying our lives.  Perhaps we made resolutions about adopting spiritual practices that bring us closer to God.  Jan Johnson's book Abundant Simplicity:  Discovering the Unhurried Rhythms of Grace describes some practices that can help us do both at the same time.

Some of the material here will not be new to any of us.  We likely already know that we need to think about our priorities before we say yes to new activities, for example.  But I love her spiritual spin on simplicity.  She reminds us again and again that we should be adopting these practices so that we have more time for our relationship with God.

She's also very encouraging as she reminds us again and again to do what we can, not to stress over what we can't do:  "The guideline for all spiritual practices is a version of Benedictine John Chapman's words:  'Pray as you can, not what you can't.'  This means focus on a simplicity practice as you can do it, however imperfectly, not as others do it or the supposed one right way to do it."(55).

Some of her simplicity practices surprised me.  She devotes a chapter to fewness and fullness of words.  Throughout this chapter, she reminds us that the purpose of speaking should be to "impart grace" "promote kindness" (64).  Think about that idea as you go about your day.  How much of your language shines light into the world?  How much of your speech is devoted to ugliness?

In this chapter she also talks about the value of complete silence.  She describes an experiment that her graduate student undertakes; she remains silent for 24 hours.  Johnson also tells us about other ways we might weave silence into our noisy lives.

Each chapter concludes with a variety of experiments to try and a list of questions to explore in discussion or in private pondering or writing.  Again, some of these will be familiar, but it's good to be reminded of their usefulness.  And it's a treat to have some new material to use.

Other topics she covers include learning not to worry, learning to pare down, learning how to keep our free time really free, learning to be unhurried, and cultivating a spirit of gratitude.  Again and again she reminds us that we're doing these activities with a higher purpose.  It's not about clearing out our closets and shelves so that we can clutter them with more junk.  It's about making more space for God.

At 172 pages, with chapters that you can dip in and out of, with headings to help you navigate, readers will find this book accessible and friendly.  For those of us who already find the busyness of modern life sabotaging our resolutions, the reminder that we can start again will be welcome.  For those of us who think that there must be more to life than what we're seeing, this book points the way to a path we can follow to a life with more depth. 

Who Is a Minister?

I'm still puzzling over the recent Supreme Court decision about Cheryl Perrich, the teacher in the Lutheran school, which you can read about in this article from The Washington Post.  I'm most puzzled that the female teacher in question was considered a minister in her Lutheran school--especially once I found out that the school is part of the Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod tradition.

Why did this fact make me take notice?  The Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod does not ordain women.  More traditional LCMS churches don't even let women read from the Bible in the pulpit.  Yet the school claimed that the teacher was a minister?

True, her training went far further than that experienced by many teachers:  "Perich joined the school as a “lay teacher” in 1999 and then underwent extensive religious training. She became a 'called' teacher, expected to perform her job 'according to the Word of God and the confessional standards of the Evangelical Lutheran Church as drawn from the Sacred Scriptures.'”

I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this story, but I must confess I'm more interested in the Human Resources side of the story.  The teacher left on medical disability leave for over a year; not surprisingly, the school did not hold her job for her, and as I understand the law, the school was not required to do so.  The Post reports:  "When she threatened to sue to get her job back, she was fired for 'insubordination and disruptive behavior.'”  Why was she not simply let go for dereliction of her teaching duty when she didn't return from medical leave?

It's hard for me to see the discrimination here, but like I said, there may be more to the story.  Did she ask for reasonable accommodation?  Did the school take pity on her and try to keep her employed, only to find themselves baffled at a worker threatening a lawsuit?

The courts ruled unanimously, which makes me think that the case was fairly clear-cut in First Amendment terms.  The school called the teacher a minister, the teacher disagreed, the Supreme Court has just decided that she was a church leader.  Will this case have far-reaching implications?

Some of the Justices don't think so:  "Justices Samuel A. Alito Jr. and Elena Kagan wrote separately to make clear that they do not think the term 'minister' is central to courts determining who is covered by the exemption. Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists rarely use the title, they wrote."

So, will later cases revolve around how a minister is different from a chaplain, a pastor, a priest?  Will the Justices need to think about church founders like Martin Luther, who coined the term "the Priesthood of all believers"? 

The newspaper article points to all sorts of inconsistencies, again making me think there's more to the story.  The teacher "claimed a special ministerial housing allowance on her taxes."  And again, I come back to the idea that the LCMS doesn't recognize women as ministers, which makes me wonder what the school is thinking.

It also makes me wonder if the Supreme Court thought about that fact.  If you don't ordain women, can you claim the exemption that the LCMS school claimed?  I would say no, although I would support the school in its claim to have done no wrong, based on what I read in the article.

I wish I could come up with some snazzy conclusion that would tie up all the loose ends in this blog post.  I wish that writing this blog post had helped me clarify all the points which left me confused, but that hasn't happened.  I remain where I was at the beginning, wondering about all the parts of the story that haven't been covered.

Meditation on This Week's Gospel

The readings for Jan. 15, 2012:

First Reading: 1 Samuel 3:1-10 [11-20]

Psalm: Psalm 139:1-5, 12-17 (Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18 NRSV)

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20

Gospel: John 1:43-51

In this week's Gospel, we see the start of Jesus' ministry--and what a simple start it is. A low pressure invitation to come and see.

Note what is left out of this narrative. I assume that many people declined Christ's invitation, for all the standard reasons: no time, conflict of interest, kids have after school activities, guests in town for the week, laundry and grocery shopping to do, too much work to do before quitting time; we are people with responsibilities; we can't just abandon them to follow some guy around the countryside. Experts tell us that it takes 4-8 invitations before a friend will come with you to church. Imagine what Jesus faced as he offered invitations to total strangers.

And notice that Jesus carries on. Jesus doesn't go off in a huff. Jesus doesn't spend time complaining about how he'd rather have a different sort of ministry. Jesus doesn't whine to God that God promised him something different, one of those mega-churches perhaps. Jesus walks from town to town, issuing a simple invitation: Come and see. The ones who respond to the invitation offer the same invitation to their friends. Come and see.

Jesus doesn't do spectacular miracles in the Gospel of John, at least, not at first. He tells Nathanael that he'll see great things, but he doesn't wow the audiences with his powers.

There are several powerful messages for us here in this Gospel. We, too, have been offered this invitation. Come and see. And what are we to make of what we see? How do we respond? Do we tell others? Do our lives change? Can other people tell that we've been changed?

One of the tasks that God calls us to do is to transform the world we live in, to make the Kingdom of God manifest here on earth. No small task. But God has given us an example of how to do this: Christ's experiences on earth show us the way.

For those of us who are members of small churches or small ministries, we should take heart in this example. Jesus doesn't start with a huge group. Jesus doesn't start with a huge budget. Jesus doesn't even have a building to call his own. Jesus shows us what we can accomplish with a small group of dedicated people.

Perhaps this doesn't sound like good news to you right now. Maybe you're tired and not feeling so dedicated. Maybe you find yourself waking up at 2 in the morning with doubts consuming you and eating away your stomach lining. Pay attention to the Gospel lessons in the coming weeks. God can work with that kind of disciple too.

In the meantime, listen for God. On a daily basis, an hourly basis, God constantly calls us to come and see. God always calls us to transform the world and God promises that transformation is possible, even probable. We are Resurrection People: Life blooms even in the middle of death, even in the deep midwinter.