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.