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Short Notes March 24, 2009

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Luke is an apology to a Roman magistrate.

Matthew is doctrine.

Mark is a story.

John is an apology against Docetism.

Rapture theology comes from a Biblical passage that is about imprisonment.

Too many people think, when studying scripture, “God will reveal all.” It’s a very Protestant idea that’s all fine and dandy when it’s about Biblical layering, but we need to note those layers. The history and linguistic nuances are part of those layers. God might show you unique ways of experiencing scripture, but God’s not going to teach you history and Greek.

Eucharist and Agape Meals March 14, 2009

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Eucharist and Agape Meals
Eucharist, translated, means “thanksgiving.”

Originally, the Eucharist was practiced as a communal meal, as the depictions of the Last Supper in the gospels suggest. Early Christians shared a meal, confessed their sins, and had the Eucharist– the meal that unified them in the body of Christ. There was a mysticism attached to this ritual; the Eucharist is a mystical union of believers, somewhere in the middle of Catholic and Protestant intentionality regarding communion today.

Consider this Eucharistic blessing, found in the pages of the Didache, the oldest surviving Christian catechism:

“We give thanks to you, our Father, in behalf of the holy vine of David your child, whom you made known to us through Jesus your child, to you the glory into the ages”
“We give thanks to you, our Father, in behalf of the life and knowledge, of whom you made known to us through Jesus your child, to you the glory into the ages. As this which is fragments, while being scattered upon the hills and brought together became one, so the church shall be gathered together from the limits of the earth into your kingdom, because yours is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ into the ages”
–Didache, 9.2-5

It captures the mysticism of this Christian community, joined together through time and space through the ritual of the Eucharist.

Early Christians also held agape meals, which were basically giant potlucks to feed their religious community and whoever else might need nourishment. It was true embodiment of the movement’s redefinition of “neighbor.”

Crowds came from Jerusalem and Judea and the regions around the Jordan River to be baptized by John. He said to them, “Brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the impending doom? Produce good fruit. Prove that your hearts are really changed. Do not think of saying to yourselves, ‘We are Abraham’s children’ because, I tell you, God can produce children for Abraham right out of these rocks. Even now the axe is aimed at the roots of the trees, so that any tree that fails to produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown on the fire.”
The crowds asked him, “So what shall we do?”
He answered them, “Whoever has two shirts must share with someone who has none. Whoever has food should do the same.”
–Q2

So often we think, I’m a nice person.. Jesus spoke words of truth when he reminded us that everyone is nice to their own friends and family. Rapists and thieves, after all, have friends. The test of Christian faith, I believe, is whether we put it into action– whether we are being nice to more than just our friends and family and giving to more than just our friends and family. Christianity’s intent is to extend our circles of compassion beyond those we might naturally be drawn to love. After all, there is nothing extraordinary about loving and being good to one’s friends and family… pretty much everyone does. Christianity calls us to, as Bishop Spong worded it, “love wastefully.”

And be a simplllllllllllllllle kind of man.

The Prayer of Jesus

Loving God, in whom is heaven.
May your name be honored everywhere.
May your kin-dom come,
May the desire of Your heart for the world be done,
In us, by us and through us.
Give us the bread we need for each day.
Forgive us. Enable us to forgive others.
Keep us from all anxiety and fear.
For You reign in the power that comes from love which is Your glory, forever and ever. Amen.

(re-worded prayer from the Sophia community)

I believe the translation intends to portray the panentheistic Nature of God by playing on the words of our traditional translations by saying “in whom is Heaven” and shows how the pursuit of God is heavenly and gives heavenly light to the souls of those who pursue God.

This was used in a Sophia Community (Catholic) service. By kin-dom, I believe the translator intends to convey an idea that “Kingdom” is truly achieved when it becomes “kin-dom,” which is to say when we treat all members of the human family as true family.

And that does it for today, I think.

You are the body of Christ. You are the blood of Christ. Go into the world and be the hands and feet of God. See with God’s eyes and open yourself to the Holy Spirit as it lures you toward justice, compassion, and peace.

Jesus March 5, 2009

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I’m going to post some questions from “A Course on Chistianity,” which was offered by a former minister at my church, and my answers to them. Here’s the first one, which is probably fitting:

What do the inconsistencies between the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ life suggest about the way we should interpret not only the text, but the meaning of Jesus’ life?

The inconsistencies, for me, show that there were different understandings of what Jesus’ life and ministry meant. People found different aspects of his legacy important and formed different interpretations of his person because of it. This parallels our view of the scriptures… people find different stories meaningful. People translate the text differently. Because of this, none of us should be so arrogant as to claim that our understandings can be more or less meaningful or authoritative than someone else’s.

for times when there isn’t a god January 5, 2009

Posted by relsdork in God, christian, church, environment, gay rights, nature, politics, religion, struggle.
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Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe in God. Those times, for me, are generally not times when I am hit hard by life nor are they times when I find myself particularly happy or well off. Those moments are generally mediocre, everyday moments when my ennui starts to kick in.

In those moments, when I think to myself that it is more likely than not that our world is some strange pointless existence, happening by chance and because of nothing more than interactions between unfeeling elements, I wonder what meaning there is to my existence.

In those moments, I realize that whether or not there is any grand purpose or higher being watching out for us, whether or not there is any sort of process or care beyond those of individuals simply acting out what will (they perceive) help their own motivations, I realize that people have motivations. We have feelings; we have needs; we have Life. Whether or not God exists, whether or not any god or gods exist, whether or not there is any sort of higher power or afterlife, there is this Life.

In moments when I think of that, I know that even on days when I cannot believe in God, I know that my church is acting out of the right motivations. We advocate for low income housing, provide lunches for AIDS victims, house and feed the homeless, build homes for people in New Orleans and Mexico, fight for rights of immigrants, advocate for marriage equality and equal treatment for gays, help provide for students in South Africa, help build homes for people in Mozambique, help facilitate peaceful and appreciative relationships with other religious groups (including those outside of Christianity), assist Mother of Peace Orphanage in Africa, advocate for more environmentally friendly legislation… and in many other ways I cannot remember in this moment care and act on those issues which matter in our country and in our world. We don’t do this because we think there is any reward. Rather, we do this because we understand that Life matters. Life matters not because God says so, but because we understand that if Life matters to us, it matters equally as much to every being which has Life. We understand that we are interconnected and that no Life is valuable without its relationship to other Lives and the opportunities which other Lives facilitate.

Why do I go to church? Because even in moments when I cannot believe in God, I know that if there were a God, God would want my church to be doing what it’s doing because my church is working for Humanity.

good conversations are hard to come by December 31, 2008

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Somewhat recently, I had a rather awesom conversation with a few people, namely: Steve, June, Lani, and Karen.

We were in a rather nice restaurant in the Garden District. It was one of those restaurants that has a chef. They hadn’t anything vegetarian on the menu, which meant the chef made me something fantastic. Because they had a chef.

Over dinner, we talked about a variety of things, mainly the economic situations that exist in different neighborhoods of this country. During this conversation, I felt so blessed to be a member of my family—a family complete with supportive, loving parents and grandparents—that I burst into tears over the tablecloth and expensive meal. While my family comes from a different economic situation than a lot of people I know, my family has a level of support that many families do not. It was never money that made my family enjoyable, it was our traditions and our Love.

When tragedy strikes my family, I truly know how family we are. A couple of years ago, when my uncle’s wife committed suicide, I received from him an amazing hug. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t been close since I learned how to write complete sentences. It mattered, in that hug, that we were family.

In a recent conversation with certain members of my family, it mattered not what hardships we’d faced and which hurtful things had been done nor said, but how we loved each other. Not all families have that. My family does. It’s a blessing.

Sometimes such blessings are hard to realize. Day-to-day things seem to take up my headspace and I forget how truly amazing the people in my Life are.

And then we have dinner.

I believe that food brings people together. Perhaps that’s why the Christian tradition emphasizes the last supper.

Or maybe they just want an excuse to drink wine.

i have decided that pretty is a lie December 18, 2008

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Being back in San Francisco is hard. I go back and forth between being depressed and motivated. I miss the Lower Nine constantly. Everything here seems meaningless. Each day in NOLA, I was doing something to make this world better. Today, I’m working on accounting work for my boss. It’s depressing relative to the work I was doing in LA.

I went shopping the other day. Walking through the grocery store, I smiled at people like I was still in LA. Some people looked at me funny, but those smiles landed me in a random conversation with a woman in the parking lot. So I think I’m going to keep acting like I’m in the south, because maybe I’ll get to talk to elderly women in parking lots.

I’m going to let time pass like it does in the South. It matters more how much heart I can put into things than how quickly I can get things done. I’m thinking that school should be part time. Or maybe I’ll take a semester off to do more volunteer work during school time and save money so I don’t have to charge as much of my life. Maybe I won’t have health insurance, but I’m starting to find that everything works itself out. As long as I’m not valuing the wrong things in Life, I’ll have what I need.

Last week, I ate normally. I ate peanut butter and jelly. I ate lots of carbs. And I didn’t feel bad about it. My tummy was bigger than normal and I didn’t care. Last week I was dirty and chubby and maybe even stinky and I didn’t care. I was beautiful last week. I met some gorgeous people last week, none of whom were wearing makeup or nice clothes, and most of whom were in tattered, dirty, second hand clothing. I guess I’ll see how things progress as I spend more time at home, but I think my eating disorder is on its way out of town.

And I hope I keep saying “y’all.” As of now, it’s still in my vocabulary.

sermon on giving December 6, 2008

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The Sunday after I returned from New Orleans, I spoke as part of my minister’s sermon. Should you care to listen to the sermon, you can find it here

pictures from carpenter’s house December 3, 2008

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So while I haven’t received any pictures yet from the people I went to NOLA with, these are the pictures that someone from Carpenter’s House 2 sent me. It was a nice surprise today.

This is Lou, me, and Suni. We are downstairs explaining to Lou the mural that we are making.


This is Lani, working with one of the boys at Carpenter’s House 2:


This is me and a couple of the guys at Carpenter’s, chattin’ it up on a water break:

This is me cheating and taking a break to play piano. However, the man who sent in the pictures included a special note for me, saying how much he enjoyed my piano playing, that amidst all of hard work and destruction of Katrina, I was playing a pretty song on a junk piano. It was a nice surprise this morning.Here are some of the people from LowerNine.org and Carpenter’s Enjoying lunch on Friday, our last working day in New Orleans. We made a nice big lunch that day… stewed potatoes and carrots, brisket, hot dogs, rolls, cookies, and punch. It was great to see everyone enjoy such a nice meal… there are a lot of peanut butter sandwiches goin’ on for volunteers! Also, this lunch feeds the community, so I got to see a lot of people coming to Carpenter’s to enjoy a meal. Carpenter’s likes to make really nice stuff, not just simple food. It’s bad enough that most people can’t afford decent food around there (or are hungry), so they try to do their best to make a decent meal.I decided to spend my lunch serving that day, since I’d been at Carpenter’s helping to prep it.

The people at Carpenter’s were super friendly and encouraging. I hope that when I am able to make my way back, I will find some of the same people there.

you can find out more about Carpenter’s House here

marks December 1, 2008

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So the bruises on my legs that I earned my first day in New Orleans are pretty much gone now. It kind of reminds me of the cat scratches I continually wore as prizes from playing with my old cat, Tommy. After Tommy died, I was extremely saddened when those scars faded. Similarly, I’m sad that I no longer have visible marks from my time spent in New Orleans.

life is weird November 28, 2008

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Sunday back

So today was weird. I woke up and my life was dragging. And dragging.

I went to church. I spoke as part of Penny’s sermon. It was hard. Apparently people responded really well. A lot of people had good feedback. My mom came to church and I think she really enjoyed the service.

I spent the rest of the day at my parents’ house. I talked to them a lot. My dad said he’d been thinking about volunteering.

I asked for a trip back to LowerNine.org for Christmas. I don’t know that I’ll get it, but maybe I’ll get help.

I’m starting to feel better again. As I spoke today, as I talked to people after church, as I talked to my parents tonight, I was spreading it. I was doing something again.

I just know I need to keep doing things like this. I am thinking about trying to find an organization in the Tenderloin where I can help my community here in San Francisco.

I saw a shooting star on the drive home tonight.

Easy is the new hard November 25, 2008

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Easy is the new hard
Someone asked me last night if I was excited to go home. I’m not, necessarily. My life seems so trivial.

On the flight to L.A., the center seat of my row was empty. The other girl near me ran into an old friend, who moved to our row. The whole flight, this woman threw herself at the guy. Stupid notes in his iphone… “you’re hot.” Leaning on him and kissing his butt and being that stupid girl from every movie. I couldn’t stand her or her designer clothes. I wanted out.

This girl was culture shock after spending an amazing week among the selfless, non-materialistic people I was surrounded by.

You’d think after staying in dirty bunks and showering in a dirty bathroom all week, I’d be excited for my clean apartment and big bed and clean shoes, but I’m not.

My old cruddy jeans which now have a tear and multiple paint stains are now my favorite pair.

But I am excited to give my mom a hug. I am excited to visit my grandma. I am excited to go to church.

I can’t tell whether I’m happy or sad right now. I think I’m both.

That’s probably how it should be.

“what we do” from rick prose on Vimeo.

I had the blessing of seeing Jenga’s finished home while I was in New Orleans. Joe was house-sitting and taking care of her cats while she was gone for business.

giving November 23, 2008

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I said something to this effect in Church last week:

This past week was truly a blessing in my life– the generosity of the volunteers and residents in New Orleans was overwhelming. If I ever doubt the goodness of Humanity, I know that I’ll only ever need to look over the journals and photographs of this trip to remind myself how beautiful we all truly are.

I expected a week of feeling depressed by the Lower Ninth Ward community, but most of the tears I shed were of gratitude and joy. One of the people our group was blessed to meet and work with was a man named Mack,a lifelong resident of the Lower Ninth Ward. After Katrina, he bought a building that he intended to use to work on antique cars, but the day that he stuck his keys in the door, he knew that he had to make it into a community center. However slow-going his progress, he radiates a joyful energy and patience. And while his vision takes all of his time and energy and yields him no profit, he says it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done.

This attitude is pretty pervasive. The volunteers get up early in the morning and break their backs doing work they probably never anticipated taking on at a different point in their lives.

While it can be frustrating to think about how much faster work SHOULD be progressing, there is no sense of resignation. Everyone spends each day getting things done with the mantra: “You do what you can.” And while this effort is certainly “work” in the sense that it takes a lot of time and energy, the attitude is extremely far from a “work” one. It isn’t a job, it’s living. I knew that I was alive while I was acting in community and in full consciousness of our
interconnectedness. The work was so joyful that it felt not like I was giving, but like I was receiving, like I was living, like I was home in the presence of God and good people working together for a better world.

life in a fema trailer from rick prose on Vimeo.

hope is a 4 letter word November 20, 2008

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This has been the most amazing trip. The people here are amazing. I’ve experienced a level of hospitality I didn’t know was possible. I never thought of SF as being superficial, but compared to here…

I would quite seriously consider moving to the lower 9th after getting my M.Div. and trying to create a ministry here. God is alive in this community.

I’ve only been here for a week and I just don’t know how I’m going to go home. Life seems so trivial and the things I spend my money on seem so pointless. I am going to ask for a tip back to the Lower Ninth for Christmas. I doubt it’ll happen, but I’d love it to.

I need to come back here. I need this.

This is a new video posted on Rick’s blog recently. The man being interviewed at the beginning is Matt Grigsby, our project manager at lowernine.org. Keep in mind that this video is CURRENT. The Lower Ninth Ward still looks like this.

if people treated people like people November 18, 2008

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Today I spent the first half of the day SCRAPING PAINT. It sounds boring, but the boys and I made it pretty fantastic. We wrote a movie script about the passions of paint scraping, made songs about it, designed the anti-amusement park (full of things like scraping paint, sitting on hold, watching paint dry, etc), and continuously cheered for paint scraping.

SCRAPING PAINT, SCRAPING PAINT!!!!!

I met Albert and Louis in the afternoon, who were working at Carpenter’s House 2. They were both over-qualified for doing the work they were doing, yet could see doing nothing else. They told me how they originally got started working for Common Ground, the first organization to form after Katrina. However, they saw corruption rising and got out of the situation. They wanted to be helping their community, not stealing from it.

Cresent City Carpenters is the vision of a man named Charles, who was one of the friendliest and most affable men I’ve ever met. Though their theology is much more conservative than my own, he told me never to listen to people who underestimate me because I am a woman, that God spoke through more women in the Bible than men. Each day I meet the most amazing, friendly people. It makes me think I should move to the South.

It was Rick’s 50th birthday. We had a celebration for him and afterwards, were given the opportunity to hear his story. Rick is from Maine and grew up visiting New Orleans. After Katrina, seeing how little progress the Lower Ninth was making, he knew he had to do what he could. He talked to us about how the community is so different from what it used to be.

Afterwards, Albert told us his story. He and his wife broke through the roof of their home during the storm. His wife, he said, found a crowbar in the pitch black of their attic, illuminated by light. He says it was a miracle. They, like many other people we’ve met here, spent 3 days on their roof, waiting for help that never came. No one came to help them for a week. When they tried to get into the city, people were there with guns, refusing to let the starving people of the Lower Ninth enter safe grounds. The community was forced to break into stores and steal food in order to survive their days stranded. The death and complete chaos of Katrina was all around them. He says his wife is in another area of the country now. He hasn’t seen her in 2 years. Every time it starts to rain decently, she freaks out and cries, thinking it’ll happen again. So many people aren’t right after Katrina. Yet, so many people like Albert have started giving their lives to their community, determined to make it right.

After most people were in bed, I talked to Albert and another girl about religion which was really cool. She was telling me about a really cool place where she worships, that seems a combination of Christianity and karma. Cool. We know I dig religion convos.

Each day I’m going to bed late, getting up early, working pretty hard, gaining new bruises and scratches, and yet I am happier than I can remember being in a long time. Thank God for Life and the Life God is bringing back to the Lower 9.

menopause be damned November 17, 2008

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The church moms, as we’re calling them, keep joking that I am going to know way more about menopause than I’d ever need to know. They’re funny. Despite the age difference, they are awesome.

Today was the first day that we really worked. The people were amazing. Kids on their day off from school showed up… “What can we do?” While much of my interaction with them was tossing a beach ball over a temporary wall, it was also talking to them. One of them had found a purse the other day and was now in trouble for keeping what was inside of it. His friends were defensive. “It wasn’t me. We know, he’s a fool.” It was good talking to them though. I told them owning $500 pants was ridiculous and that the kid could have looked for an ID in that bag. I don’t know that I had any lasting affect, but hopefully The Village will.

These kids are growing up in a neighborhood that’s only seen 12-17% of people return. Crime is pretty abundant. The kids are brave.

We worked on the site of The Village, a community center that a man named Mack is building. He has a vision for a place where the people of the Lower 9th can come together and kids can find forms of enrichment and stay out of trouble.

People say hello to you as you walk around, but they don’t just say “hello,” they ask how you’re doing.

Today, while we were moving a super heavy piece of equipment (3 of us) from one side of the building to the other, because it wouldn’t fit through any doorways inside, a man stopped on the street, jumped out of his truck, and offered us help. He left his car running in that high crime neighborhood and helped us push the thing around back. He didn’t leave until we said “thank you” in that way that implicated that we no longer needed his help.

The people here are grateful. They are helpful. They are real. This is everyday. This is their community. We are the community.

This is a community and it all comes together.

The people at lowernine are all from different places. They have different takes and experiences and yet are all still the same… they have the same spirit of God. We came here to help because it’s what needed to be done. This is what gives life meaning. I think my congregation is changing the perception of “church” people in the way we treat people. Awesome.

Tonight we went out to Hi Ho in the Lower 9. We all (20 something of us) crammed into a van which rumbled along the blocks to the bar. The driver gave the dashboard a hard pound to turn the radio on and we all sung oldies together on our way. We trundled out and to the bar, where people were circled with guitars, upright basses, slide guitars, and banjos jamming on bluegrass songs. It was such a celebration of Life.

We are alive. This is life. We do the work this world needs to see done and then we love the way this world needs to be loved. The people don’t care how you’re dressed, how you sound, or anything like that. It’s a community and you are part of it just by being. That is the God community that we need to see.. that sense of unity. The big city becomes a small world as we all find we are from similar places and care about the same thing– justice, patience, change, and peace.