So I'm home for a week for this funky thing my school calls 'touring break', which mostly means that my friends are in Colorado playing instruments and I'm here.
BUT I'm seeing it all as a really lovely opportunity to do what I want to do. I'm reading some books, doing some cooking, spending time with my family and a few friends from home, and taking advantage of the fact that, for the most part, I don't HAVE to do anything!
So today I walked to the grocery store. My mom and I are making steamed brown bread, and it calls for rye flour, which we didn't have on hand. So I called ahead to make sure that Supervalu, the neighborhood little grocery store, had rye flour. They didn't. BUT the guy graciously got a bag out of the bakery for me, and said it'd be ready when I got there. So I started walking. It's beautiful outside-- above freezing for sure. I didn't need a hat or mittens or anything. Tons of people were out and about, taking down christmas lights, or walking here or there-- it was really fun to greet my neighbors, and enjoy the weather in a sort of community.
If its nice where you are, I dare you to go take a walk-- even if you don't have a good excuse.
now GET OFF THE COMPUTER!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Here's the first verse of a hymn we sang in chapel the other day that resonated with me. The text is by Ruth Duck (who coincidentally also wrote a book I used for my project on inclusive God-language).
"As a fire is meant for burning with a bright and warming flame,
so the church is meant for mission, giving glory to God's name.
Not to preach our creeds or customs, but to build a bridge of care,
we join hands across the nations, finding neighbors everywhere."
"As a fire is meant for burning with a bright and warming flame,
so the church is meant for mission, giving glory to God's name.
Not to preach our creeds or customs, but to build a bridge of care,
we join hands across the nations, finding neighbors everywhere."
Radical Abundance Part III
What is real wealth, do you think?
Is it money?
I bet you would say no. Money is money. It's one thing, and its not necessarily bad, but real wealth, if you were to ask me, is access to health care and education and green space and good food. Even more, wealth is family and friends and a place to call home. A thriving community. A healthy relationship with the earth. and, however it irons out, a sense of spirituality-- that there is more than me. Majora Carter says that people need three things in order to be healthy, happy humans:
So what?
I think one of the great tragedies of our era is the death of community. It still lives in some places, but despite my family's good intentions and best efforts, I hardly know any of my neighbors. I certainly don't feel like our neighborhood could be a center of support in a crisis, or that there's any real sense of pride in where we come from. Timothy Gorringes and David Korten, two of the speakers at the conference, both suggested that the best way to save ourselves from all kinds of ecological, social, and economic doom is to pull together in community. Regions should be able to support themselves agriculturally. The big money from Minnesota shouldn't head straight into the pockets of some guy in New York who's already rich-- instead we should keep the economy local. We should do away with agri-business, with big corporations, with over-seas sweatshops, and the attitude that junk somehow is worth our money and energy.
Gorringes talked about the "transition town" movement, a grass-roots sustainability revolution that's changing communities in the UK by getting people talking. That's what I want to do-- start a conversation. Get to know someone. As one speaker put it, "join the choir". Ask how we can creatively come together to change systems that none of us like.
I think its really possible that we are the ones that we've been waiting for.
Is it money?
I bet you would say no. Money is money. It's one thing, and its not necessarily bad, but real wealth, if you were to ask me, is access to health care and education and green space and good food. Even more, wealth is family and friends and a place to call home. A thriving community. A healthy relationship with the earth. and, however it irons out, a sense of spirituality-- that there is more than me. Majora Carter says that people need three things in order to be healthy, happy humans:
- someone to love,
- something to do,
- and something to look forward to.
So what?
I think one of the great tragedies of our era is the death of community. It still lives in some places, but despite my family's good intentions and best efforts, I hardly know any of my neighbors. I certainly don't feel like our neighborhood could be a center of support in a crisis, or that there's any real sense of pride in where we come from. Timothy Gorringes and David Korten, two of the speakers at the conference, both suggested that the best way to save ourselves from all kinds of ecological, social, and economic doom is to pull together in community. Regions should be able to support themselves agriculturally. The big money from Minnesota shouldn't head straight into the pockets of some guy in New York who's already rich-- instead we should keep the economy local. We should do away with agri-business, with big corporations, with over-seas sweatshops, and the attitude that junk somehow is worth our money and energy.
Gorringes talked about the "transition town" movement, a grass-roots sustainability revolution that's changing communities in the UK by getting people talking. That's what I want to do-- start a conversation. Get to know someone. As one speaker put it, "join the choir". Ask how we can creatively come together to change systems that none of us like.
I think its really possible that we are the ones that we've been waiting for.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Radical Abundance part II
Whew!
It's been a busy couple of days. I'm going to break down my thoughts from the 'Radical Abundance, theology of sustainability' conference into a couple of posts so it's not so overwhelming. I've got a lot to think about!
The entire experience had the dual overtones of hope and urgency. Urgency because we know that we don't have much time. The era of our dependency on oil is coming to an end, whether we like it or not-- there simply isn't enough. The earth cannot continue to support a system that survives only by turning usable resources into toxic waste in order to make the rich richer, while the vast majority of the world's population suffer as the Earth's bounty is snatched from under their feet. America uses 25% of the worlds resources. On any given day, the city of New York uses as much energy as the entire continent of Africa. And the world's current crisis isn't simply an environmental one-- all of creation is languishing in injustice. 'The least of these', as Jesus called them, the poorest of the poor, are shouldering the heaviest ecological burden and have no voice to protest.
The picture is overwhelmingly grim. Everyone is negatively affected by injustice. We are not spiritually whole if we are separate from the universe that we were created as a part of, and we cannot be whole if we are separate from each other. Somehow, though, each presenter spoke with optimism. Despite the terrifying prospects and the unhappy present, my experience at the conference was filled with smiles. There was-- there is-- hope. Majora Carter spoke about her experience in the South Bronx-- an area in the poorest 5 congressional districts in the country. The neighborhood has a 25% unemployment rate, and 1/3 of the population is under the poverty line. It handles most of New York's solid waste and has several power plants. The children suffer from an asthma epidemic. It is a desolate place, with very little green space. But change is coming to the South Bronx-- through Majora Carter's organization, parks have been created, wetlands reclaimed, trees planted, and green-roofs installed. A program now exists that trains locals in the skills necessary for green jobs, and now those who had been unemployed and seemingly unemployable are reclaiming the Earth.
Good things happen.
It's been a busy couple of days. I'm going to break down my thoughts from the 'Radical Abundance, theology of sustainability' conference into a couple of posts so it's not so overwhelming. I've got a lot to think about!
The entire experience had the dual overtones of hope and urgency. Urgency because we know that we don't have much time. The era of our dependency on oil is coming to an end, whether we like it or not-- there simply isn't enough. The earth cannot continue to support a system that survives only by turning usable resources into toxic waste in order to make the rich richer, while the vast majority of the world's population suffer as the Earth's bounty is snatched from under their feet. America uses 25% of the worlds resources. On any given day, the city of New York uses as much energy as the entire continent of Africa. And the world's current crisis isn't simply an environmental one-- all of creation is languishing in injustice. 'The least of these', as Jesus called them, the poorest of the poor, are shouldering the heaviest ecological burden and have no voice to protest.
The picture is overwhelmingly grim. Everyone is negatively affected by injustice. We are not spiritually whole if we are separate from the universe that we were created as a part of, and we cannot be whole if we are separate from each other. Somehow, though, each presenter spoke with optimism. Despite the terrifying prospects and the unhappy present, my experience at the conference was filled with smiles. There was-- there is-- hope. Majora Carter spoke about her experience in the South Bronx-- an area in the poorest 5 congressional districts in the country. The neighborhood has a 25% unemployment rate, and 1/3 of the population is under the poverty line. It handles most of New York's solid waste and has several power plants. The children suffer from an asthma epidemic. It is a desolate place, with very little green space. But change is coming to the South Bronx-- through Majora Carter's organization, parks have been created, wetlands reclaimed, trees planted, and green-roofs installed. A program now exists that trains locals in the skills necessary for green jobs, and now those who had been unemployed and seemingly unemployable are reclaiming the Earth.
Good things happen.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Radical Abundance
Right now I'm feeling very blessed with opportunity.
My school, Gustavus Adolphus, is a partner site for a big theological conference in New York-- people from all over the region are gathered in our campus center to watch webcasts of the three day conference and to discuss, in large and small groups, what these big theological ideas mean in our lives. The topic of the conference? Radical Abundance; a Theology of Sustainability.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
The conference started last night, and I'm excited to share updates with you all as it progresses-- I'm planning on being inspired and enlightened both by the speeches (name-dropping: Sister Miriam MacGillis, Timothy Gorringe, Mestor Miguez, David Korten and Majora Carter, if you know of any of them...) and by conversation with other people looking for real ways to tie our faith to the Earth.
The opening worship was webcast last night, with a homily by Sister Mirriam MacGillis of Genesis Farms. Here are some ideas I jotted down from her talk:
I'm very pleased that the conference started this way. In my view, any discussion of science or theology or ecology, any conversation about what it all means or what to do next has to start from a place of personal and spiritual connection. Sister Miriam gave the conference that rooting, a gentle reminder of why we should care about what's to come.
I'll try to update regularly over the next few days as I spend my time immersed in this good stuff.
in the meantime, let all around you be peace!
My school, Gustavus Adolphus, is a partner site for a big theological conference in New York-- people from all over the region are gathered in our campus center to watch webcasts of the three day conference and to discuss, in large and small groups, what these big theological ideas mean in our lives. The topic of the conference? Radical Abundance; a Theology of Sustainability.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
The conference started last night, and I'm excited to share updates with you all as it progresses-- I'm planning on being inspired and enlightened both by the speeches (name-dropping: Sister Miriam MacGillis, Timothy Gorringe, Mestor Miguez, David Korten and Majora Carter, if you know of any of them...) and by conversation with other people looking for real ways to tie our faith to the Earth.
The opening worship was webcast last night, with a homily by Sister Mirriam MacGillis of Genesis Farms. Here are some ideas I jotted down from her talk:
- The earth is our body and blood
- Life on Earth is a seamless garment into which our being is woven
- The Neighbor is not just he human neighbor.
- The divine is within all.
- Humanity is the conciousness of the planet.
I'm very pleased that the conference started this way. In my view, any discussion of science or theology or ecology, any conversation about what it all means or what to do next has to start from a place of personal and spiritual connection. Sister Miriam gave the conference that rooting, a gentle reminder of why we should care about what's to come.
I'll try to update regularly over the next few days as I spend my time immersed in this good stuff.
in the meantime, let all around you be peace!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Everything is Holy Now
Here's some Sunday-morning poetry for you: some lyrics from my new favorite song-- "Everything is Holy Now" by Peter Mayer.
"When holy water was rare at best
It barely wet my fingertips
But now I have to hold my breath
Like I’m swimming in a sea of it
It used to be a world half there
Heaven’s second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
‘Cause everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now"
You can listen to part of it here It's the 5th track.
Amen!
"When holy water was rare at best
It barely wet my fingertips
But now I have to hold my breath
Like I’m swimming in a sea of it
It used to be a world half there
Heaven’s second rate hand-me-down
But I walk it with a reverent air
‘Cause everything is holy now
Everything, everything
Everything is holy now"
You can listen to part of it here It's the 5th track.
Amen!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Open Eyes
Something I want to have is open eyes-- to see the world really, and not to let it pass over my head. John Cowan, whose book "Taking Jesus Seriously: Buddhist Meditation for Christians" I've been reading, talks about delusions-- the ideas we have about things that, in our minds, replace the things themselves.
Tonight as I was walking to a meeting it was snowing lightly. I saw it, said to myself "wow, that's beautiful", and then kept right on walking-- head down against the cold, trying not to slip on the ice, not wanting to be late. I wish that I would have stopped and SEEN the snow for what it was, without automatically categorizing and dismissing it. I think winter is a good time to practice living with open eyes-- stopping, looking, seeing doesn't come as automatically now. It's so much easier to walk with our heads down-- to avoid seeing, and thus to avoid pain, to avoid beauty, to avoid what might, ultimately, be real.
Tonight as I was walking to a meeting it was snowing lightly. I saw it, said to myself "wow, that's beautiful", and then kept right on walking-- head down against the cold, trying not to slip on the ice, not wanting to be late. I wish that I would have stopped and SEEN the snow for what it was, without automatically categorizing and dismissing it. I think winter is a good time to practice living with open eyes-- stopping, looking, seeing doesn't come as automatically now. It's so much easier to walk with our heads down-- to avoid seeing, and thus to avoid pain, to avoid beauty, to avoid what might, ultimately, be real.
May the Long-Time Sun Shine Upon You
A word about the blog's title, "The Long-Time Sun":
It's a line from a sung blessing used at Camp Amnicon, the marvelous place where I spend my summers (and any other time I can finagle!) as a send off for campers at the end of the week. The full lyrics are as such:
May the long-time sun shine upon you,
all love surround you,
the pure light within you
guide you on your way home.
It's sung to an Irish jig tune and accompanied by a jelly-roll hug and general madness. When we're teaching the blessing to campers, we explain that there are many ways to think about the long-time sun, love, and pure light, and that one of those ways is to find God there.
To me, God is to be found in exactly those things-- in "the long-time sun", a representation of the life-giving natural world, in "all love", my relationships with other humans, and "the pure light within", my own, very personal, experience of God. I really see all life as a representation of God, a incarnation, if you will, of divine life. I am honored to be a part of God's expression on earth, and it is part of my mission to be the best possible representation I can be of the "pure light within" me.
It's a line from a sung blessing used at Camp Amnicon, the marvelous place where I spend my summers (and any other time I can finagle!) as a send off for campers at the end of the week. The full lyrics are as such:
May the long-time sun shine upon you,
all love surround you,
the pure light within you
guide you on your way home.
It's sung to an Irish jig tune and accompanied by a jelly-roll hug and general madness. When we're teaching the blessing to campers, we explain that there are many ways to think about the long-time sun, love, and pure light, and that one of those ways is to find God there.
To me, God is to be found in exactly those things-- in "the long-time sun", a representation of the life-giving natural world, in "all love", my relationships with other humans, and "the pure light within", my own, very personal, experience of God. I really see all life as a representation of God, a incarnation, if you will, of divine life. I am honored to be a part of God's expression on earth, and it is part of my mission to be the best possible representation I can be of the "pure light within" me.
Welcome!
Thus begin Bethany's blog-a-riffic adventures!
Yes, I'm starting a blog. The purpose of this venue will be, I hope, the seeds of conversation. I don't want to be one of those people for whom a blog is a vehicle of narcissism or a place to whine about the world. I'm hoping that by making some of the things I've been thinking about public and letting people I care about know what's going on in my brain, I'll get a chance to talk to you. I'm not looking for conversions here-- don't feel like you have to agree with me! But I would love to know what you think about the issues I raise. I want to know more about you.
Feel free to use the comment box to get in touch with me, or, if you have my other contact information, to start a conversation that way. I think this will be fun.
Yes, I'm starting a blog. The purpose of this venue will be, I hope, the seeds of conversation. I don't want to be one of those people for whom a blog is a vehicle of narcissism or a place to whine about the world. I'm hoping that by making some of the things I've been thinking about public and letting people I care about know what's going on in my brain, I'll get a chance to talk to you. I'm not looking for conversions here-- don't feel like you have to agree with me! But I would love to know what you think about the issues I raise. I want to know more about you.
Feel free to use the comment box to get in touch with me, or, if you have my other contact information, to start a conversation that way. I think this will be fun.
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