The Best Post on Christmas Stress -- Ever -- In the World!



 

 

 

 

In order to reduce my stress load this Christmas, I am reposting last year's Christmas Stress post instead of writing a new one.

Do you feel that Christmas is a disruption in your life?  Are you overwhelmed by trying to provide the best Christmas possible?  How do you feel when you read an article or hear a discussion on a talk show telling you that you shouldn’t try to create the “perfect” Christmas?  And don’t forget all those movies about a burned out parent (usually Mom) who has a revelation and cries and berates herself for not seeing the meaning of Christmas.  Do you feel guilty because you would have been satisfied with just “real nice”?  Or are you shooting for perfect and feeling guilty not only for not making it but for even trying?

No matter where you turn, someone is saying something about the stress of Christmas.  I stopped reading articles about how to avoid stress, since reading them and trying to put them into action just took up time and led to more stress.

Maybe we just ought to accept that fact that we are going to strive for “the best Christmas ever,” no matter what we read or see on television and hear in church.

But I have a thought.

Christmas disrupts our lives, just as it has disrupted the world.  Mary and Joseph had their lives disrupted; so did the shepherds and wise men.  When we decide to follow Jesus, our lives are going to be changed and change is disruption.  It is a miraculous disruption.

But wouldn’t it be nice to find a little peace?

Maybe on the 26^th or the Saturday after Christmas, we can enjoy the leftovers, watch the DVD’s we got, and really read the Christmas cards and newsletters.  I’m going to keep the 26^th in mind tonight
as I wrap presents and worry about whether everyone will like them.

It's still all about us.

"Not my circus, not my clowns." Old Polish Saying




Well, Lamar od'd in a brothel in Nevada and was in a coma. Khloe rushed to his side, accompanied by various Kardashians. Lamar woke up, they cancelled their divorce action, and he is in rehab. Well.

What should we say? "I'll pray for them." What are we saying? Probably a lot more.

"She's making a big mistake."

"Being on that show probably drove him to it."

"Maybe she's a co-dependent." "Maybe?"

"Do you think it will last longer than Kim's marriage to that basketball player?"

"I am so sick of the Kardashians!"

And on the bright side: "Maybe he'll be scared enough to get sober."

"It'll give the show a big boost." There's a silver lining in every cloud.

We don't need to point out that this is unchristian or even "not very nice." We know that. But we're going to be not very nice anyway. God probably wonders when we are going to get lives.

But eventually we'll get tired of it or at least turn out attention to the next scandal. Do our comments tell us anything about ourselves? Do we think it's good that Lamar didn't die? Are we hoping that they will work things out? What do we think Jesus would say about all this?

The Kardashian goings-on are not our circus. But since we've devoted energy and oxygen to them, we might as well try to learn something.

And we can pray for them.

PS I am never going to say that I have nothing more to say about anything, There's always something.

 

　

Kim Davis Has Nice Hair

"Not my circus, not my monkeys."  Old Polish Saying 



For the past several days I have been trying to write about Kim Davis and Pope Francis.  This is at least my third attempt.

I've read a lot of news articles, commented on a lot of Facebook posts, and laughed at a lot of Kim Davis jokes. 

I finally decided that the Pope is very charming and charismatic and is probably a very nice man with a very hard job, who is tying very hard to do the very best he can.  Unfortunately, he is the  head of an organization that considers homosexuality a sin, denies women reproductive freedom and refuses to ordain women.

As the saying goes, that is not my circus.  And even though in attempting to follow the teachings of Jesus, I try to love the Pope as I am supposed to love everybody (And I will even pray for him as he has asked everyone to do.), he is not my monkey.

After Pope Francis was criticized for meeting with Ms. Davis, the Vatican issued the statement that “The pope did not enter into the details of the situation of Mrs. Davis, and his meeting with her should not be considered a form of support of her position in all of its particular and complex aspects."  (The Rev. Federico Lombardi, the Vatican spokesman, in a statement released on Friday morning.)

 

But the thing of it is that he does support her position, at least officially.  By their standards, the Vatican does not need to defend him.  But doing so supposedly makes the Church look a little better. And it makes Ms. Davis look much worse, which should make her critics happy. And besides providing the spectacle of Ms. Davis being crushed by the bus she was thrown under, it also dazzles the public with so much rhetoric that we will say, "Yeah, whatever," and get on with our lives, which is what I intend to do.

But first, I'd like to mention something that seems to have been overlooked:  Kim Davis has a story. I haven't seen it;  I guess People Magazine isn't interested.  But I have several questions. 

 What was her life like before she became a Christian?   What kind of childhood did she have?

How did her marital history, which so many liberal people have taken such glee in reciting, affect her? (It is interesting that many of these people have called her fat and homely.  But she has had four weddings and three husbands and is still married to the last one; she must have something.)

What did the Pentecostal church offer her and why did she need it?

Did she ever have dreams of getting out of Rowan County, Kentucky?  And what is Rowan County like, anyway?

Liberal Christians find it hard to have any sympathy for her, let alone love her as we are taught to.  Actually few liberals have any sympathy for her, but the Christians are the only ones who feel they should, 

Maybe if we knew her story, we could see her as a beloved child of God -- like us and the tax collectors and prostitutes Jesus ate with.

Ms. Davis is very wrong about a lot of things. But seeing her as God's child and our sister does not make us disloyal to our LGBTQ friends, Ellen DeGeneres, Elton John, Bishop Gene Robinson, and the entire LGBTQ community, or, if we are members of that community, self-hating to ourselves.

I'm hoping that I got this right this time.  Now I'm going to post if before a new scandal comes along and Kim Davis is "so fifteen minutes ago."

Then I'm going to get on with my life.

BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY.

Down the Rabbit Hole Again -- Curiouser and Curiouser

I thought I was too worn out with stuff you can’t make up  to comment on the Kim Davis situation, but I found I  can't help myself.  (Once you're in the rabbit hole of organized religion, you might as well just find a comfortable spot.)  Ms. Davis, a County Clerk in Rowan County, Kentucky, is in jail for refusing to issue marriage licenses to same sex couples because it is against her religion.  She says that forcing her to do so is to deny her religious freedom.  Really, what can you say about this logic?  Maybe Holy Crap. 

I posted a comment on Facebook that I wasn’t going to comment on the situation except to say that I was too weary to comment, which was probably a comment.  I thought of saying that Ms. Davis’s behavior gives Christians a bad name, but I realized that many people would say she is not a Christian.  Frankly, I’m not sure if she is not a Christian or is just a terrible one.  And who am I to judge?  Maybe the best thing to do is to just think of her as a person, as I am.

So, I figured I had said enough.

And then . . .

I read a post from the Father Marcus Halley’s blog, Black and White and in Living Color.  I liked what he was saying. He thanked Ms. Davis for giving him the opportunity to see her as a child of God, to love her, and to pray for her.  A common reaction to reading this might be, “Say whaaat? Good one, Father.  You had me going there for a minute.”  That Father Halley is gay makes this even more extraordinary.

So, perhaps in response to Father Halley or perhaps because I don’t want to hide my light under a bushel or maybe because I just like to see myself write, I would like to offer a few random thoughts.  They may be random, but at least they are few.

1. Father Halley is doing what we are supposed to do, what we are told to do, not only in sermons, but by the Bible.  God loves Kim Davis and so should I.  (God is a lot nicer than I am.) I try.  I really do.  I have used quite a bit of energy and oxygen thanking God for opportunities to look for Jesus in others and praying for them. Sometimes it works. We need to be told this as forcefully as possible and maybe even as often as possible.

 2. Ms. Davis belongs in jail, and I'm glad that she if she is convicted she won't get to keep any money she makes from the book she will probably write. 

3. I have to admit I might consider a County Clerk who issued marriage licenses to same sex couples in defiance of anti-marriage equality laws to be a hero and if he or she went to jail, a martyr.  And although I fault Ms. Davis for not upholding the law, as she is required to do as a public official, I don’t know how much significance I would give to this hypothetical public official’s responsibility. And I would think it was a terrible injustice that he or she wouldn't get money for a book. I would probably be reminded of Henry David Thoreau who went to jail for refusing to pay taxes that supported the Mexican-American war and a government that allowed slavery.  (Legend has it that when Emerson asked him, “What are you doing in there?” he replied, “What are you doing out there?”)

4. Ms. Davis has had a varied marital history.  (This is Episcopalianspeak.  I am trying to restrain myself.)  I acknowledge that this is none of my business.  But I wonder how much respect she showed for marriage and the Bible before she came to her decision. Once again, Holy Crap!

5. Finally, we are told there is hope for everyone, no matter what they have done.  God is not finished with Ms. Davis.  She has only been a Christian for four years and, like St. Paul, may experience an epiphany. God is not finished with me, either.

I need that hope as much as she does.

 

Sixty-Four Plus 3

 

I recently celebrated my 67^th birthday, and I realized that I am now closer to seventy than sixty. (I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me a year and a half ago.) You know those articles in which people reflect on how they have changed with a significant birthday? Sixty-seven isn't really significant, but I have been doing some different (and some might say strange) things.

Instead of listening Joni Mitchell or The Jefferson Starship or Bob Dylan when I am on the computer at work, I am now listening to bluegrass, Irish drinking songs, Talking Heads, The Ramones, and The Clash. (The kids left the CD’s for the last two.) They are great for when I’m entering data. Fortunately, I’m not the only worker who is desk dancing. We all have earphones, so I don’t know what everyone else likes. I am going to look into the Sex Pistols and Dead Kennedys.

I decided to make a bucket list. It is

1. Try a pink squirrel cocktail

2. Try all the kid’s cereals I never used to let in the house. Fortunately you can get variety packs so you don’t have to commit to anything. 
 

I bought a new moisturizer that cost almost twice as much as my regular moisturizer. I was so pleased with it I bought the same brand of eye cream. A gift card paid for half both times, but when I run out, I’m going to get more, gift card or not.
 

 I decided that most people are not going to “get” me or recognize my references. So when I offer a comment or observation and the hearer gets a dead fish stare and says, “Oh,” I will not think there is anything with either me or him or her.

 

I referred to God as “She” at my Bible Study Group; this is a little “too hip for the room,” as they say. The leader just rolled his eyes in a friendly way; he’s used to me.

 

I have been buying about two pounds of Swedish fish, raspberry jellies, etc. at the Mall about every two weeks. If you buy more than two pounds you get another quarter pound free.

 

I have been reading more lately, particularly serious writers, to improve my style through osmosis. (It works, too.)  But if I don’t like the books, I don’t finish them. I have done this twice to Mary McCarthy with The Groves of Academe and Cannibals and Missionaries. (In Cannibals and Missionaries, a cat dies. I’ve decided to take it upon myself to warn my friends when animals die in books, movies, or television programs.)


If anyone says that something is called something else (as in “I’ve stopped eating sugar and white flour. It’s called ’taking responsibility for your health.’”), I am going to say, “No, it’s called ‘whatever you just said it was’ (as in “No, it’s called ‘stopping eating sugar and white flour.’”)

I am only using one space after a period or question mark.To use two spaces is considered bad typology.  (Google “space after a period” and you’ll find debates as numerous and passionate as those about the final Sopranos episode.) But I’m doing it as a challenge to fifty-eight years of using two spaces. Microsoft Word corrects a no-space typo with one space, although it does not change two spaces to one. For a former English teacher, single spacing is almost heresy.

 I send hugs on Facebook.  I may start doing it live.

 

I have started praying for things for myself. And I don’t apologize. God really doesn’t have a problem with stupid or selfish requests. She’s going to do what is best. (It is easier to ask for things if I think of God as “She”.)  She’s not going to get mad at me for asking and will forgive me for getting mad if the answer is “No” or “Not now”.

When someone starts saying how much better things used to be, I have brought up dentistry and eye surgery. When they get superior about computers and Facebook, I say, “Oh, I love Facebook” and tell them how I tracked down two old boyfriends.
 

 
I realized that someone who is now 70 would not have been old enough for Pre-K if it had existed on the day I was born. Someone who is 80 would have been about to start eighth grade!  I find this fascinating and not depressing.

I never thought I would be a feisty “woman of a certain age,” although I thought it was a great thing to be. Sweet old lady was really good enough for me, since I’ve often been called sweet. ( I’m too tall to be called little.)  Maybe it’s something I can aspire to, not because I want people to have that opinion of me, but because it might be fun.

 

 

 

 

 

Not Your Grandfather's Snack Cakes

In case anyone is wondering if Woodstock Churchlady has been wimping out lately on presenting “the opinions you’re afraid to express", (See “Warning:  This Is an Opinion I Am Almost Afraid to Express", June 7, 2015), maybe this will restore her reputation as a loose cannon:

The Ashley Madison Scandal is not a big deal!

The worst offense was that of the hackers.  People are entitled to privacy when they are trying to hook up for extramarital affairs.

This is not to say that adultery isn’t wrong.  Anyone who has ever been the victim of a partner’s betrayal has suffered great, maybe unbearable, pain.  We are supposed to wait until we are married to have sex.  And with marriage equality, this means everybody.

Well, it would be nice if this is how things worked out.  (As long as we’re spinning fantasies, we might as well imagine that all marriages are deliriously happy. Good luck with that.)

But as someone’s wise old grandmother must have said, “People will be people.”  That people have affairs is, in Episcopalianspeak, “very unfortunate,” maybe even “terribly unfortunate.”  But it’s not unusual.  (Cue Tom Jones.)  How many of us have looked for love in all the wrong places?

And how many stories, novels, poems, songs, plays, and movies can you think of that are about adultery?  Some are dramatic and may have “redeeming social value” when the adulterers come to a bad end.  Some are just funny.  Marge Simpson got involved with a website “Sassy Madison” when she thought she was ordering snack cakes from Dolly Madison.  If you can decipher Middle English, The Canterbury Tales are supposed to be a hoot.

So why should the Ashley Madison scandal get so much attention?  Why are people taking such joyous interest in it?  Maybe because we are people, we need drama, even or maybe especially, if we are leading relatively virtuous lives.  Virtue can be boring.  And we might as well admit that for all our talk about minding our own business and not being judgmental, we enjoy thinking, “Well, at least I never did that.”  Or maybe I should speak for myself.  But feel free to join me.

If you’re wondering what the point of this is and what, if anything, you are supposed to do after reading it, I can only say, “It’s whatever you want it to be and you aren’t supposed to do anything, except write a glowing comment and make this go viral.”  I’m just kidding about the last part.  But maybe the point, which I seem to make a lot, is that this scandal, like most others we are not involved in personally comes down to being all about us.  How do we react to it and can we learn anything from it or from our reaction?  I am not going to condemn anyone, since I don’t know that facts, and even if I did, it’s not my job to do so.

But, lest you think Woodstock Churchlady is being too much of a churchlady, I will say that I will follow the scandal and maybe (OK, probably) even enjoy it.  And I’ll tell God that I know it’s wrong and trust that He or She has a sense of humor.

(I hope my referring to myself in the third person didn’t annoy you too much.  I get a charge out of it, but I’ll try to restrain myself in the future.)

Celtic Thunder 

The Latest American Pastime

People must really enjoy being offended; they do it so well and so often.  Not since the seventies when feminists carried around stickers saying “This degrades women,” to slap on Barbie dolls or issues of Playboy, have people been so vocal about their right to not be slighted.  They are playing the sex card, the gender card, the race card, the poverty card, the health card.  And, I have to admit, they are often right.  And one of most offensive phenomena is White [Male] Privilege.

The only hope a white male has to escape some of the charges of white privilege is to be non-heterosexual, non-cisgendered, or handicapped.  In retaliation, whites (or European Americans) are offended that they are being accused of having privileges.  In fact, they say, they are now victims, which may come as a relief.  (Of course, many white males never thought they were privileged in the first place.)  This, of course, offends everyone who decries White Privilege.

When a person is killed by a someone of another race, gender, religion, or national origin, rather than hating that crime or even hating just the perpetrator, people organize to blame society and basically hate everyone who is not joining in the hatred.  They also wag their fingers at anyone who is a part of society that allows such things to go on. (Sometimes they include themselves, as if feeling enough guilt for something one hasn’t done personally will help the situation,)

Then people are offended because they are having the evil of others attributed to them. 

Of course, if the victim is a rich, heterosexual, white male we may be spared the guilt tripping and remorse wallowing.  At least for now.

By now, I have probably offended liberals, members of minority groups, a lot of Christians, and a lot of people who would like to see everyone treated with justice and love.

I would too.  But let’s be honest; this is never going to happen, no matter how much or how well we organize.  (This is not to say that there is not a great need for organized efforts to stop discrimination and injustice.)

But maybe we could come a little closer to the ideal by recognizing that there are always going to be differences between people and that maybe the best thing to do would be accept each other and work together and not be so eager to take offense.  Or just sit have coffee together.  We may only be able to make progress on an individual level, but maybe that is the best place to start. 

Full (or almost full) disclosure:  I am offended by old people jokes and animal abuse jokes.   I have no problem with Christian, Episcopalian, WASP, or liberal jokes.

The first time I heard this (an older version.) was when a guy I was dating played it for me, since I had told him I was a liberal.  My response was "Liberals need love, too."

An earlier version.  There are more on YouTube.

OMG! TMI! Is a cola war next?

The past six months have been eventful to say the least.  Some of the events have been good, even joyous:  the Supreme Court’s Decision on marriage equality, Caitlyn Jenner’s gender transition being met with surprising acceptance.  (The main negative comments seem to be about Ms. Jenner’s association with the Kardashians and that fact that she is a Republican.)  Here in Philadelphia, people are buying Pope t-shirts and looking forward to the His Holiness’s visit, hoping to see him chowing down on a cheesesteak and getting a blue tongue from his first water ice.  And how about a Eucharist with soft pretzels?

Episcopalian church geeks followed the General Convention in Salt Lake City with live coverage of the services and the business sessions.  There is a new Presiding Bishop (the Big Boss of the denomination), Bishop Michael Curry, the first African American to hold the office.  Bishop Curry won in a landslide on the first ballot.  It doesn’t look like it’s going to be our grandmother’s Episcopal Church.

Of course, there are the usual Dylann Downers (Debby Downer’s gender neutral, trendy cousin) who whine that there are still problems and the Casey Crazies who wail that change is not only inconvenient but evil, and at the very least a lot of people will be going to Hell.

While Dylann and Casey are upsetting, they are nothing compared to the series of scandals that seem to turn up just when we think we’ve seen enough sad, you-can't-make-this-stuff-up weirdness to last at least until the end of the year.  The Bishop and the Bicyclist in Baltimore, Josh Dugger, the president of the NAACP coming out that she is white, white police officers shooting unarmed black citizens, white cops being shot in retaliation, church burnings, a Neo-Nazi shooting members of a Bible study group, fights over the flying of the Confederate flag, and finally the revelation of tapes in which Bill Cosby admits to giving women Quaaludes in order to have sex with them.

But this is post is not about these events.  I’m too tired.  Every happening opens up new questions.  We puzzle how those who disagree with us can hold their opinions, try to determine how much guilt we should assume, and indulge in the frustration of attempting to figure out why these things happen.  Then we want to run off to some cave or at least hide under the bed.

If you’re expecting thoughts on how a Christian should handle such things, I’m too tired to do anything but point them out.  And maybe all the thoughts and advice coming from the media and each other are a big part of what is wearing us out.  So you don’t need mine.

But I will do what I can.  Please enjoy these dogs and cats.

You’re welcome.

WARNING: This is an opinion I am almost afraid to express!

 

In Newport, Rhode Island, an Episcopal Church is the scene of the latest Jesus miracle, hoax, or mistake.  At St. John the Evangelist Church, a red stain keeps appearing on the wall under a picture of Jesus on the Cross, giving the appearance of blood coming from Jesus’s wounds.  It’s been removed and painted over numerous times, but it keeps coming back.  People are flocking to see it, and the church’s rector, the Reverend Nathan Humphrey, while not actively promoting this, is not discouraging it and even said in an interview that it is an opportunity to start someone on the road to finding Jesus and a chance for the church to obtain more members.  While admitting that this is “certainly not what they lead you to expect in seminary,” he calls it a “sign of the holy presence.”

Of course there have been reactions:   The stain may be caused by a leaking rusty pipe or maybe it is a prank (not as good as crop circles, but pranksters have to work with what is available).  Father Humphrey is not only theologically incorrect (which for a priest is even worse than being politically incorrect), but is exploiting the people who are coming to see it.  The Bishop of his diocese should stop being a wimp and straighten him and everyone else out.  That this could happen is a sign of what is wrong with the Church.  And from the Episcopalians: Where is the reason that is part of Episcopal doctrine?

Why is it reasonable to believe that God is always with us and knows every hair on our heads and not reasonable to believe that there might be a possibility that this is, if not a miracle, a sign?

My feelings about it are mixed.  It probably is a water stain, but wouldn’t it be neat if it weren’t?  God is too much for most people contemplate, but little miracles aren’t.  I know, I know.  Life is a miracle, Niagara Falls is a miracle.  Butterflies are miracles.  I am a miracle.  And so on.  Yes, but as grateful as we are for all these things, how could a little blood dripping from a picture hurt anything?  (I have to admit that it has caused some people to call those who come to see it “stupid” and probably worse.  Nice talk for Christians.)

People do not want The Church or Christianity to smack of superstition.  (Hasn’t that boat sailed?)  But why can’t we enjoy the fact that we still have enough open-mindedness and a remnant of wonder to think a sign or a miracle is possible?   Isn’t belief or the willingness to believe that something comes from God at least a step to believing more?  Faith is fragile.  Anything that can strengthen it is welcome. 

I’m not saying that this is a miracle or sign.  To me, that isn’t important.  What is important is that people have the desire to believe and the belief that they can.

 

 

 

A Modest Proposal - A Truly Tasteless Post

First of all, let me say that what Josh Duggar did was terrible – worse than terrible.  He severely damaged his victims' lives.  We can only hope and pray that they will be able to recover.

That being said, I must admit that I have a slightly (maybe more than slightly) warped attitude towards  . . . well . . . things.  One of my favorite television programs is South Park.  I used to own three volumes of Truly Tasteless Jokes.  So after the past months of you-can’t-make-this-up stuff, I couldn’t help myself.  And, since a little rationalizing always helps when you can’t help yourself, one of the purposes of this blog is to show readers that they aren’t the only people in the world who have held “the opinions [they are] afraid to express”.

The Media, social and otherwise, has been bristling with everyone’s opinions.  Some are about Josh himself, but what stood out for me was that what people were really interested in was the hypocrisy rampant in the situation.  Josh, of course, is a hypocrite for presenting himself as a fine young Christian man, who just said no until he got married.   His parents are hypocrites for hiding their son’s crimes in the first place, then presenting themselves as examples of Christian parenting and giving opinions on what they see as everyone else’s sins. (Michelle Duggar has been speaking out against a bill protecting the rights of LGBT people, saying its passage would lead to coed restrooms which would lead to predators lying in wait for innocent women and girls.)  Their church leaders who helped them cover up are also hypocrites for reasons too numerous and obvious to mention.

Then there are those who call these critics even bigger hypocrites, saying they are presenting themselves as loving, forgiving people who even called former bishop Heather Cook a beloved child of God after she killed a man when she was texting while driving drunk, but are not doing the same for Josh because he does not agree with their liberal views.

This gave the liberals a chance to express shock that they are being made victims.

Maybe we could settle this by bringing it to the experts.      

How about a reality show called The Biggest Sinner?

Start with a panel of experts, maybe a couple of bishops (Episcopal and Roman Catholic), a leader of the religious right, a prominent Jewish leader (Jon Stewart?), Mormon Mitt Romney, and for the atheists, Bill Maher.  Maybe we could include Phyllis Schafley and Gloria Steinem. 

For a moderator, I can’t decide between Regis Philbin and Nancy Grace.

In Round 1, the names of two sinners are given to the panel,  for instance, Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar. The experts decide who is the bigger sinner and give their reasons.  “It was a tough choice, Reeg, but I’m gonna have to go with Jim Bob rather than Michelle.  After all he’s the man and is the head of the house.”  Whoever gets the most votes goes on to Round 2 against another sinner involved in the scandal, and so on until we get to the Biggest Sinner of the Week.

The next week, the principal players in another scandal are voted on.  This could go on for several weeks until the Final Challenge of all the winning sinners.  By now, excitement has mounted and the audience, both in the studio and watching on television, also casts votes.  The finalist sinners have been brought in for the Challenge (If they’re in jail, they are on satellite.) and the winner gets to confess on national television and receive absolution from the panelist of his or her choice.

I think Don Draper and the gang at Cooper Sterling would love it.

Jesus loves the Kardashians. And you can, too!

For those who have been waiting to hear Woodstock Churchlady’s thoughts on Bruce Jenner’s interview with Diane Sawyer on his transition from male to female, here they are:

Bruce (right now he prefers to use that name and masculine pronouns) was honest, open, and even humorous.  He has been dealing with this since was a child, and it hasn’t been a Wheaties commercial to say the least.  He hopes that by being open about his situation, he will be able to help other transgender people.  He is optimistic that he will be OK.  He is also a Republican.

That’s really all that needs to be said.  Nothing is open for debate and nothing is anyone else’s business, except maybe the Republican part.  No one has the right to judge another person’s behavior, much less condemn it or clue us all in on God’s opinion.

Of course, much more is being said.  This is confusing stuff.  It may even be threatening.  If gender isn’t secure, what is? But what this all comes down to for those of us who are not directly involved and who don’t even know a transgender person as far as we know is that it’s all about us.  If we want to do something, we can try to learn from our observations and, it is hoped, be the better for it.

Most of the reactions I’ve read have been positive, applauding Bruce’s courage and wishing him well.  People will be praying for him and his family and maybe all transgender people and those who love them.  However, there is also the theme, “I was leery about watching because I really didn’t want to subject myself to anything having to do with the Kardashians.”  People don’t like the Kardashians.  They see them as publicity hungry parasites who have perfected the arts of being famous for being famous and flaunting their excessive lifestyle into a million (Or is it billion?) dollar empire.

I’ve written about the Kardashians in two posts already (“A Look at Popular Culture”, October 11, 2014 and “Reality Check:  The Redeeming Social Value of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and the Real Danger the Real Housewives”, January 11, 2014).  If it hadn’t been for the latest development, I would think I’d said enough.  But even as I try to get away, they keep pulling me back.  An enormous fairy tale wedding and a marriage that lasts 72 days?  Well, these things happen.  Then another marriage.  Well, no one wants to be alone for the rest of her or his life.  And another enormous fairy tale wedding!  I know it’s none of my business, but . . .  Anyway, I love weddings, and it was fun to watch.  And some of us who feel we know better than to go chasing after happiness in the form of stuff still enjoy looking at other people’s and being proud that we are not envious.

Thinking about the Kardashian lifestyle, I was reminded of The Great Gatsby, with its gigantic mansions, weekly parties with full orchestras, and stables of polo ponies.  And, of course, the emptiness of it all.  But there is a difference. Unlike Gatsby, who was a bootlegger, the Kardashians have earned their fortunes honestly.  And, in spite of the excess, The Great Gatsby is about the search for love.  So are the Kardashian sagas.  And, in spite of everything, the Kardashians value family.  They fight, but they make up.  They make sex tapes that go viral on the internet and get DUI’s, but the prodigals are not thrown out. 

The Kardashians do not need me to defend them.  And I am not going Churchlady on people who don’t like the show or saying that hating someone’s lifestyle or television show means that you hate them.  But if we are thinking about Bruce’s journey, we can also think about the journey his family is taking and how, since it comes down to being all about us, we can learn from it.  Maybe even become better people.

(By the way, in case you’re wondering why you would want to love the Kardashians, maybe if you do, you won’t find them so annoying.)

Oh, Honey!

 

We’ve all dealt with naysayers and parade rainer oners, those people who say you shouldn’t major in English, look for new job, fall in love, or even get a new television.  One of the best ways to bring them out is to become a Christian, or, if you come from a nominally religious family, to “really get into it.”  Your best friend becomes an expert on church history.  What about the Spanish Inquisition?  Indulgences? Henry VIII? Bloody Mary?  Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker?  Another tells you horror stories about Catholic school – never mind that you aren’t Catholic.  Still others will be refreshingly honest.  How can you believe that crap?   

While these people are annoying, you can deal with them.  You can tell yourself that they have issues and don’t have manners, and just because they are being judgmental, you don’t need to be.  You can save your religious side for your religious friends.  You can say, “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree” and change the subject.  That works sometimes.  Or you can suggest going out for pizza.  Maybe they won’t talk with their mouths full.

 

What is harder to deal with are the “Oh, honeys.”  The Oh honeys are genuinely concerned and don’t come right out and criticize:  “You’re going to marry that whack job?” or “Churches just want your money.”  Instead they look worried and say, “Are you sure you want to do that?”  Or “Well, if you’re happy, I’m happy.” Or “Call me if you ever need to talk.”  You really don’t want to be rude and you know you really should appreciate their concern.  But you can hear the “Oh, honey” in their voices.  “Oh, honey, you’re making a big mistake.” 

I never thought I would become an Oh, honey.  But I have.  When I hear young people talk about the power of prayer or how we are all children of God, I want to say, “Oh, honey, it doesn’t always work out.  Sometimes the answer to a prayer is ‘Not now’ or even ‘No.’   Sometimes disgusting, evil laws are passed no matter how hard we work against them.  Sometimes no matter how much compassion and love we give someone, he or she may keep doing the same self-destructive things and if we’re not careful, take us down with them.”   And one time I did.  The young woman I said this to (Fortunately, I did not say “Oh, honey.”) is much more spiritual and knowledgeable than I am and I am old enough to be her grandmother.  She replied that she knew that; she is young, not dumb, but she still chooses to hope because she would prefer a broken heart to a hard one

She’s right of course.  We must continue to hope, about our dreams, about the world.  Even about retaining our faith.  What can we do to keep hope? We can surround ourselves with people who feel the same way we do.  (We can do this without putting those who don’t out of our lives.  Anyway, they wouldn’t go quietly if we were to try.)  We can get closer to God through reading the Bible and talking about it.  We can remember when the answer to our prayers has been “Yes.”  Or when the answer has been “No” and six months later we are relieved and even happy about that.  We can think of all the progress that has been made on issues, even though it is not nearly enough.  And we can pray – for the naysayers, for the Oh honeys and for ourselves. And that may give them hope.  I may be old, but I hope I’m not dumb.

 



 

 

 

Did Mary ever get out of jail?

 

I had thought that I had said everything I needed to say and everything that everyone needed to hear about the Bishop Heather Cook/Tom Palermo tragedy.

Then it turned out that Bishop Cook had been intoxicated at a private dinner party two days before her consecration, witnessed by her soon to be bosses, Bishop Eugene Sutton (she is a Suffragan or Number 2 Bishop) and Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori (the head of the entire Episcopal Church).  The bishops knew that she had been arrested for Driving Under the Influence in 2010 and was supposedly in recovery. 

This news sparked lots of discussion.  As usual, the social media was buzzing with it.  Why hadn’t they postponed or cancelled the consecration?  Why isn’t The Church doing more to help clergy (oh, yes, and everyone else) overcome drinking or drug problems?  Why do Episcopalians enjoy our stereotype as sophisticated drinkers?  (You may not find a can opener in an Episcopal church kitchen, but you will find a corkscrew.  Wherever three Episcopalians are gathered, you’ll always find a fifth.   In the Episcopalian version of the changing the lightbulb joke, there is always someone mixing the cocktails or pouring the wine.) 

I am proud to say that I did not participate online.  I’m not so proud to say that I am participating now.  But I am because this is kind of weird.

Lately, I keep thinking of a public service announcement that I saw as a child in the fifties.  I can quote parts of it verbatim.

It starts out on a sunny street in a pleasant little town, just a little more upscale than Mayberry.  The narrator, who sounds like a fifties sitcom dad, begins:

“Mary Kendall’s in love.  The whole town knows.  And this time it’s for keeps.”

We see Mary, a pretty young woman in a pretty dress, wearing a diamond ring, driving her car, with a dreamy smile on her face.

The narrator goes on to say that Mary is a good driver and has never had an accident.  But sometimes a person can be so used to doing something that his or her mind wanders.

“And in a moment, Mary Kendall will kill” (dramatic pause) “nice old Mrs. Souwikki.

Then we see Mrs. Souwikki in her housedress and (probably; I’m not sure) a hat crossing the street carrying a bag of groceries.

I don’t remember seeing the accident but I do remember the narrator’s next words.

“Now, this won’t do Mrs. Souwikki any good” (scene of Mrs. S’s body being loaded into the ambulance) “Or Mary either” (pronounced “i-ther”) (scene of Mary standing by her car with at least one policeman and crying).  “But it might help you.”

I don’t remember what was said after that but, really, did they have to say anything more to make the point?

A nice old lady is gone.  Mrs. Souwikki probably had cookies for her grandchildren in her grocery bag or maybe even chocolate chips to make the cookies from scratch.  Mary’s life was ruined.  (At the time I thought this was because she would go to jail and wouldn’t be able to have her wedding with the beautiful dress and veil, rather than thinking that she would be tortured with guilt for the rest of her life.)

I don’t know whether this helped me.  But it certainly had an impact.

So what is the connection?  Blog posts and sermons and committees and task forces certainly won’t help Tom Palermo or his family.  Or Bishop Cook either.

But can we say that the posts and sermons, the resolutions of the committees, and the action plans of the task forces won’t help us as individuals?  Tragedies involving people we don’t know come down to being all about us.  How do we react?  Can we learn anything?

And can The Church (any church, really) be helped by all the words about this?  I like to think it could.  But does The Church really believe it can create organized help for people with addictions?  People involved with alcoholics or drug addicts are told over and over, “You can’t help them.  They will only drag you down with them.”  The only person who can save an addict is the addict, usually with the help of other addicts (who will always be “recovering” because once they forget this, they will probably begin to self-destruct again).

As usual, I am not offering any solutions or even suggestions.  I am offering my thoughts partly to sort them out for myself and perhaps bring a spark of recognition to the reader.  “So I’m not to only person in the world who feels that way.”

Like the sermons and committees, this won’t help the principals.  But maybe all the words of the blogs and sermons and the work of the committees and task forces may help other people.

Maybe someone will realize they have a drinking problem.

Maybe someone will stop texting while driving.

Maybe someone will realize how lucky they are their friends and family are alive.

Of course, these things are not worth the death of Mr. Palermo.

But might all of this or some of this help you?

By the way, does anyone else remember Mary and Mrs. Souwikki?