blessed

I have been so blessed over this Christmas holiday (despite a brief bout with sickness on Christmas Eve). I hardly know where to begin.

Perhaps with the girls night out birthday present from my friend Cara (manicure, A French dinner, a live nativity, and trimming the tree--so fun!).

Perhaps with the delicious dinner on Christmas day, spent with dear church friends and their extended family.

Perhaps with the sweet and fascinating group international students who have been staying at our church for the last 2 weeks, who put on an amazing dinner and show last night--a veritable feast of Asian cuisine and musical/dramatic talent!

Perhaps with my delightful niece and nephew, who actually know who I am now!

Perhaps with the joy of singing carols of praise Christmas morning among my church family.

Perhaps with the generous and thoughtful gifts I received from family and friends.

Or perhaps I will simply treasure all of these things in my heart.

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace.

just bee

I just finished reading one of the zillion books on my current "to read list"--The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. All of the women in my life have been telling me for months that I should read this book, and after putting it down several days ago, all I can say is, WOW. The plot, in short, involves a teenage girl who runs away from an abusive father in the 1960s with an African American woman in search of information about her mother who died when she was 4. In South Carolina, Lily (the girl) and Rosaleen (the black woman) meet these 3 other black women sisters, one of whom is a beekeeper and sells honey. Most of the novel is about what happens while Lily lives with these women...

What makes this book so wonderful is its beautifully honest articulation of the yearning for a mother that Lily has, and how that longing is fulfilled in the most unexpected (and for that time period, countercultural) of places and ways. But in the end, it's more than a coming of age story; it's a tale about regret, forgiveness, violence, grace, desire, dreams, politics, religion, power, nature, pain, healing, fear, courage, and Love.

If for some reason you, like me, have been hiding under a rock and not had a chance to read this book, I recommend adding it to your bedside table as soon as possible.

home [ ] home

All I remember are the pine trees and rose bushes
The thrill of sledding down its street in winter
And sucking icicles broken off its roof
Sky blue outside and sunshine yellow in the kitchen

Then one day, uprooted and flying
Across rivers and mountains
to the suburbs of the Alamo City
and a two story building with a chocolate brown door
piles of newspaper where the bar should be
the yellow cabinet that needed rubber bands to close
and an ancient coffeetable breaking under the
weight of Reader’s Digests and Astrology Monthly
eight years of peanut butter and banana sandwiches,
homework on the floor, spurs games on AM 1200
and papers typed on a commodore 64

until an invitation comes from a red brick city on a hill
to live and learn and blossom
in the care of manicured greens and an 11:1 ratio,
a secret garden and magic stones
for inspiration

finally, culmination and starting over
four blocks west and two to the north
with scratched wood floors, window units and dear sisters
six months of memories to cherish

before a painful mid-winter move
to a cavernous white space with cold empty walls and
plates of isolation eaten up by activity and independence
for 525,600 minutes

and then packing and driving my life to
another second story space, a haven shared with
sea green dishes, Bono, eggrolls, and Ireland
(gifts of common life with Amy)
until another November, another search for abode
leads me to a yellow castle nestled on a downtown island
two years of bliss where plants reminiscent of youth
grace a forest green porch
mosaic tile on the bathroom wall
And a cream colored door won’t lock on its own
Keys thrown on a bureau that’s seen better days
Laying on a couch colored with all the emotions of life
Memories envelope my heart. -pjn 12/22/05

apple!

I should have known. Apple IS my favorite kind of pie (and not a bad scent for candles either!).

You Are Apple Pie

You're the perfect combo of comforting and traditional Those who like you crave security

What Kind of Pie Are You?

enough with the word wars

"The War on Christmas is a little like Santa Claus, in that it (a) comes to us from the sky, beamed down by the satellites of cable news, and (b) does not, in the boringly empirical sense, exist. What does exist is the idea of the War on Christmas, which, though forever new, is a venerable tradition, older even than strip malls and plastic mistletoe." -The New Yorker

"How silently, how silently the wondrous Gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heaven
No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still
The dear Christ enters in"

weekend whirlwind/weary world waits

Highlights: seeing the Vatican exhibit, watching Good Night and Good Luck (film about CBS, Edward Murrow and the McCarthy era), the mini-Trinity reunion at a friend’s birthday dinner, baking pumpkin bread, Voci di Sorelle’s (women’s ensemble) Christmas concert (which included several songs in Spanish, including a Nicaraguan carol!), wrapping presents for a needy family my Sunday School class adopted this year, listening to long-time missionary and humanitarian John Farmer talk about his work with Medair...

Lowlights: feeling irritated about the excessive wealth the historic church used for itself, burning my first pumpkin bread (my oven is so finicky!), searching for hours for gifts for family members (my parents are almost impossible to shop for), realizing there are 6 days until Christmas and I’ve only read about 1 week’s worth of Advent devotionals, and feeling wearied by the endless pain and suffering of the world (the latest being flooding in Thailand)...

Last night President Bush closed a national address with these words from a well-known carol:

“Then peeled the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead nor doth he sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men”

Come, Lord Jesus.

civil disobedience for christ

If you watched NBC news last night you might have seen a brief mention of the 40+ people who were arrested in the Capitol for protesting a House budget bill cutting funding for programs that protect the poor. Below, the words of Jim Wallis, one of the leaders of this vigil, regarding their acts of civil disobedience:

There is a Christmas scandal this year, but it's not the controversy at shopping malls and retail stores about whether their displays say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." The real Christmas scandal is the budget proposed by the House of Representatives that cuts food stamps, health care, child support, and educational assistance to low-income families - while further lowering taxes for the wealthiest Americans and increasing the deficit for all of our grandchildren.

That was the message we brought to the steps of the House office buildings yesterday. The day was cold but the message was clear, as hundreds of religious leaders and faith-based organizers who daily serve the poor joined for what became a revival and prayer meeting in the United States capital.

After some powerful preaching on the steps and a press conference that was more like a revival, we continued our praying and singing in front of the entrance, symbolizing the denial of access to Congress for low-income people. "Come walk with us!" we said as we invited members of Congress into our neighborhoods to meet the people who will be most impacted by their votes on a budget that virtually assaults low-income families. We sounded like a choir (and a good one at that) as we sang Christmas carols while being arrested, handcuffed, put into buses, and taken to a large holding cell roughly a mile away.

Many of those who took part in the prayerful and nonviolent civil disobedience were from groups such as the Christian Community Development Association, whose member organizations around the country live and work alongside poor people every day. Their founder, John Perkins - who at 75 was one of the oldest people arrested - inspired us all as he has for 40 years of faithful ministry among the poor. The text we kept repeating at the Capitol Christmas vigil was from the book of Luke - the best words ever about the true meaning of the coming of the Christ child.

"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."

Though today on Capitol Hill Mary would be accused of class warfare for uttering such words, they still bear the true meaning of Christmas. So yesterday, on the House office steps, we tried to put Christ back into Christmas…[and] the story of the faith-inspired action in Washington was in dozens of newspapers around the country.

We prayed for a change of heart in our Washington leaders, we prayed for the poor families we serve, and we prayed that those elected to represent us act to protect the common good in ways consistent with the Christmas message of hope.

Amen, Amen and Amen.

EB for DA

My friend, fellow church member, skilled violin player, and local attorney Eddie Bravenec announced last night at a Southtown restaurant his intent to challenge incumbent Susan Reed in the upcoming race for Bexar County District Attorney.

It's not every day you get to attend the campaign announcement of a personal friend, so I was glad to be there to support him.

'tis the gift to be simple

There's posts all over the blogosphere about the commercialization of Christmas, so what's one more?

I just read a fabulous idea in the comments of a blog from this guy about helping children develop the spirit of giving at Christmastime. He said that his family gives a gift to each child and then they each give up one of their favorite used toys to donate to a needy family. Fabulous. If I had kids I would totally do that.

For a whole slew of ideas that require more time than money, check this out. One interesting (and sad) fact mentioned in this article:

Together, Canadians and Americans make up 5.2 per cent of the world’s population, but their portion of private consumption expenditures (the amount spent on goods and services per household level) is 31.5 per cent, or more than six times what constitutes a fair share, according to the Worldwatch Institute.

I feel guilty even though I've probably only spent 10% of what most people spend on Christmas. So I am baking gifts for several people this year instead of giving them trinkets they don't need or could buy for themselves. I don't know if I could ever go this far, but I hope that over time my faith and life will be marked more and more by radical commitment to the needs of others, not just at Christmas, but all year long.

temp, temper, tempest

so i drove to kinkos after work last night to pick up some things i ordered and discovered that they had done my order completely wrong and it would be thursday before i could have it redone. i was quite put out by this turn of events, but since i was already in alamo heights, i decided to go to the quarry and pick up a few small gifts for friends and family.

lesson #1: i should never go shopping when i am stewing about something. it made me incredibly indecisive as well as greedy. i couldn't walk out of the store without buying something for myself.

lesson #2: i should never talk to my sister when i am stewing about something. my sister and i have an annual tradition of doing one shopping trip together to pick out gifts for our parents, and when i called her to ask her about it she told me she needed to reschedule for a date closer to christmas. i was already on edge, so i practically yelled at her as i tried to explain how i hate shopping at the last minute. i'm sorry, sis.

lesson #3: i should never talk to people or do anything at night until i've had dinner. i got home around 8:30pm at which time i threw a frozen lasagna in the oven, wishing bitterly that i had put in the oven earlier so it would have been ready when i came home. so i ate a bowl of cereal while i was waiting, all the while annoyed with myself for planning so poorly and eating so late.

the one bright spot in my evening of misery-inducing mistakes was a lovely conversation with my mom, which is no small thing in my life. however, as a result, the sink is still full of dishes and no presents got wrapped. oh, well. there's always tomorrow...

when my temper flares
your grace is there
to calm the waters
and soothe my cares

serenity in the fire
is what i desire
to remember what is real
and avoid misplaced ire

refine me into pure gold
i'd rather your fire than the cold
for everything will crumble
except your love and truth of old
-pjn 12/13/05

CoN: LW&W

I rarely go see movies on opening weekend. But The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is such a beloved C.S. Lewis classic that I felt compelled to do so. (My church bought out an entire theater at the Quarry, but even so I wound up going to a different showing due to a ticket shortage.) I recently reread LW&W so that I could better enjoy the film adaptation, but I think I became a stronger critic instead. But first, the positive.

I was pleased that the film is framed by the realities of Germany’s aerial assault on London and through an initial sequence fully establishes the tension between Peter and Edmund that climaxes with his betrayal of his siblings much later in Narnia. I was delighted with Lucy, whose sense of wonder and appreciation of the new and mysterious is captured nicely on screen—along with her special relationship with Mr. Tumnus, which was enhanced beautifully in the film (though his artificial nose is obvious in some places). The technological feat of making animals appear lifelike was definitely achieved in the case of Aslan—not only does he look amazingly real, but even his eyes are expressive during the course of the film. The White Witch is, quite rightly, cold but beautiful, a dark evil concealed by her pale features and light colored apparel. Father Christmas is bright-eyed and plays a wonderfully prophetic role in the film—and does his part to signal what should be a pivotal moment in the story. The musical score is magnificent (producing some teary-eyed moments for this writer), and there are some impressive parts in the battle sequence.

Now, the disappointment(s).

First, drastic changes to the plot were made. So as not to ruin this for future viewers, I won’t elaborate too much, except to say that from the children’s encounter with the beavers until they meet Aslan, very little of Lewis’ narrative is maintained. Everything is condensed, of course—so the children find themselves in a very different race to avoid danger than in the book. The changing of seasons from winter to spring does not elicit any problems for the White Witch, and actually creates peril for the children. The depth of the White Witch’s cruelty to Edmund is never exposed, though Edmund does clearly change his mind about her as he watches her treatment of others.

Second, the degree of character transformation in each of the children is meager, at best. There is much too much hesitation, even late in the film, by Peter who is supposed to be the brave leader of the bunch. Edmund fully redeems himself, but Susan’s “gentleness” appears very late; she is mostly a nervous, mother-like figure who continually wants to turn back and go home. Lucy is the most sympathetic character, of course, as she is in the novel, and seems to grow up the most. One of the best (though too short) moments in the film is at the end of the battle after she restores Edmund with a drop of her miracle cordial, and then sees Aslan breathe life into one of the stone creatures. Immediately they show Aslan look at Lucy and she realizes she has a life-saving mission of her own to accomplish and runs off to use her gift for good.

As for the film’s integrity to Lewis’ allegorical message, it would be impossible for the story to hold together without a few lines in the film that attest to the spiritual realities at work, the “deep magic” governing Narnia’s existence. Aslan maintains his Christ-like qualities, and there is tragic beauty in the scene where Lucy and Susan walk with him towards the Stone Table.

Overall, I appreciated the film, but I think the literary version far exceeds the rendering I witnessed yesterday afternoon on the big screen.

reality check

By now the whole world knows about the 4 members of Christian PeaceMaker Teams who are being held hostage by the so-called Swords of Righteousness Brigade and that their execution is scheduled for tomorrow unless U.S. forces release all detainees held in Iraq.

Most people may have also head Rush Limbaugh's comment about being glad these "leftist feel-good hand-wringers" are being "shown reality." What follows are some comments by Ryan Beiler of Sojourners on the matter:

"To follow [Limbaugh's] version of the parable [of the Good Samaritan], they'd never have fallen among thieves if they hadn't been walking on the road to Jericho in the first place. His reference to reality is intriguing, coming in support of an administration now widely regarded as out of touch with the reality in Iraq. Promises that we would be greeted as liberators, that Iraq would pay for its own invasion with oil revenue, that we knew where the weapons of mass destruction were, that only a few troops would be needed - all evaporated in the face of a reality that the likes of Limbaugh can only imagine, while the men and women of the armed forces, CPT members, and the people of Iraq experience its horror on a daily basis...Tom Fox had no illusions about the dangers he would face in Iraq. 'I am to stand firm against the kidnapper as I am to stand firm against the soldier,' he wrote more than a year ago. 'Does that mean I walk into a raging battle to confront the soldiers? Does that mean I walk the streets of Baghdad with a sign saying ‘American for the Taking?' No to both counts. But if Jesus and Gandhi are right, then I am asked to risk my life, and if I lose it to be as forgiving as they were when murdered by the forces of Satan'...Far from "feel-good hand-wringers," these men knew the difference between good and evil, and that living out Christ's call is costly."

May the CPT hostages' witness of costly devotion strengthen all whose seeking of peace has been filled with sacrifice, grief, or pain.

Dios de tierra y cielo, favor de dispone todas las cosas para el bien de quienes lo aman, los que han sido llamados de acuerdo con su propósito. Amen.

a Day to remember

I encountered Dorothy Day in my independent study of civil rights activists post-college, and she immediately became a source of inspiration to me. Day’s most lasting legacy, Catholic Worker Houses, have continued despite her death 25 years ago. The New York Times had this to say about CWHs today:

“Lots of organizations want to lift up the poor, oppose war and reshape society, but few try to do so with no governing structure, no official means of support, no paid staff members and - since Day's death on Nov. 29, 1980 - no leader.
Members still dedicate themselves to voluntary poverty, nonviolence and hard work. They make soup, give away coats, visit prisoners and the sick, protest against war and publish a newspaper that sells, as it did in the 1930's, for a penny.
Catholic Worker houses have sprung up in cities and rural areas across the country and in Canada and Europe. In keeping with Day's pacifism and cranky independence, the group has no income, so sends no taxes to the military. It is not a registered non-profit…the place worked because it stayed small - about 30 people, both street people and volunteers, live in each house, sharing food and chores. Prayers and meetings are optional, and being Catholic or even Christian is not required.”

May the work of these humble and persistent people continue as long there is need.

ice capades

To celebrate the end of the semester, the college girls in the bible study I lead had dinner at Olive Garden last night. For anyone who has never had their “sausage and pepper rustica”, I highly recommend it. The dish consists of penne pasta mixed with sliced sausage, green peppers and onions and a marinara sauce. Add a little bit of fresh parmesan, and presto! Instant culinary masterpiece.

Between the Chardonnay, delectable dinner, and mix of lighthearted/meaningful conversation, I was feeling quite content as I drove out of the parking lot towards the highway at the end of the evening. Little did I know...

For anyone reading who doesn’t live in San Antonio, yesterday was a bitterly cold, rainy, and windy day. The temperature dropped below freezing in the early afternoon, and ice was expected to be a problem on the roadways. With all of this in mind, I drove especially carefully on my way to the restaurant. However, the drive home was a different story. I had just turned onto the southbound access road of 281 and was slowly increasing speed to enter the freeway. Out of the corner of my right eye, I noticed a minivan pull into traffic, but did not think much of it until I realized they were attempting to cross all three lanes in order to cut in front of me just 30 feet from the entrance to the highway.

Immediately I realized at my rate of speed (about 45) I was going to hit them. I slammed on my brakes and began to skid forward on the icy road surface. Simultaneously, the minivan slowed down and was almost parallel to me in the road. Before I could even think, I pulled my car over to the left into the small patch of grass that separated the onramp lane from the rest of the highway and came to a stop. My heart was racing. As soon as the minivan realized I had stopped, it continued onto the highway. Meanwhile, all of the other cars attempting to enter the highway behind me had stopped. Graciously, they all waited for me to pull out of the grass and back onto the onramp and merge into traffic.

A few minutes later, one of my girls called me and asked if I was okay (they had seen the whole thing from behind me). I was fine, and my car was fine, thank God. I am thankful that I was not further north last night where others in our city were not so fortunate. But I hope I never have to drive late at night on icy roads again.

trading spaces in india

I wrote this after reading this article in the NY Times today.

Your fathers toiled in fields of grain
under the watchful eye of the sun
and loan shark lords who held you captive
with high interest and low wages
year after year

But now you’ve traded in your plow
for diamond cutters in the city
a hope of a better life drives you
though you live in crowded squalor
and your rights are hardly guaranteed

Money in your hands yet
Freedom still out of reach

Yet, as Caedmon's Call sings:

"There's a land where our shackles turn to diamonds
Where we trade in our rags for a royal crown
In that place, our oppressors hold no power
And the doors of the King are thrown wide"

rent (the movie)

I don’t normally go see movies by myself, but two weeks ago on “Black Friday” (the day after Thanksgiving) I decided to do just that and decided on Jonathan Larson’s musical-turned-movie Rent. Rent, for anyone not familiar with the story, portrays/celebrates the Bohemian culture of New York’s East Village in the 1980s through the lives of 7 friends, most of who live on the margins of society. This group of friends is mostly poor and artistic, and several of them are gay/lesbian/bisexual and/or current/recovering drug-addicts.

Since I never saw Rent on the stage, I can’t comment on how well it translated from that venue to the screen. What I can say that the music powerfully drove the story forward and the characters were generally well-developed and appropriately complex. My one complaint in the area of character development is that I felt like Angel (Wilson Heredia), did not get enough screen time to establish the strength of “her” relationship to Tom Collins (played by Jesse Martin—most well known for his role in L&O), though her dramatic personality, love of life, and bond with the group as a whole came shining through.

The movie does not romanticize the lifestyle(s) chosen by these friends—rather, it explores the universal qualities of their experiences; their questions of meaning, finding their place in the world, the complexities of love and friendship, loyalty and betrayal, and the pain of dying. Their struggle against “the man” in the film is simultaneously political/philosophical and relational without being overly ideological. For example, Benny (Taye Dibbs), who is trying to get Mark (Anthony Rapp), Roger (Adam Pascal), Maureen (Idina Menzel) and Mimi (Rosario Dawson) out of their apartments is an old friend who wants to help them by involving them in the new development possibilities. And Maureen’s girlfriend Joanne (Trace Thomas) is a successful attorney who helps Mark get his film career started. Thus, instead of glorifying/demonizing individuals because of their group identity or career, the film causes the viewer to consider the false ways we classify ourselves, and suggests (not so subtly, but still beautifully in its theme song lyrics) that love is the only thing by which one should measure one’s quality of life.

vintage vespers

With my hands curled up in the pockets of my grey wool coat, I walked briskly through the bone-chilling breeze toward the magnificent Margaret B. Parker Chapel. The first Sunday in December is the night of the oldest and most popular tradition on Trinity’s campus: Christmas Vespers. I hadn’t participated in Vespers since my last year of college, but marking my fifth year as an alum and mentoring several current seniors made me nostalgic and eager to attend.

With 30 minutes remaining before the prelude music began, the chapel was bustling with rosy-cheeked collegiate women, dapperly dressed gents, and a smattering of faculty and staff and alumni like me. Clutching my program with anticipation, I searched the crowd for my seat-saving friend—and took my place next to her about eight rows from the front on the left side of the sanctuary. [I’ve always preferred the left side because of its view of the choir loft.]

After a few minutes of small talk and crowd-watching, I fixed my eyes on the tapestry that graces the front of the sanctuary. It seemed to have faded since the last time I saw it. Finally the organist welcomed everyone and requested our silence during the musical prelude. After an a cappella soloist rendering of O Holy Night came a series of instrumental selections, including pieces featuring the violin, cello, and organ. I tried to focus on the texture of the melodies, the intricacies of the harmonies between instruments, but I was distracted by the cacophony wafting down from the balcony —and the conversation of three people in the row behind me. As my irritation grew, I feared that the sacred moments would be lost from this time of worship and I wondered if I had chosen the right way to spend my evening.

At that moment, the organ’s toccata rose in exultation to a fanfare that signaled the opening processional—following the bearers of the banners and the crèche were the chapel choir members, whose voices joined with ours to fill the air with the familiar words of “O Come All Ye Faithful” as they entered. I was startled to discover my vision growing blurry as we reached, “come and behold him” and it took all my strength to continue to sing without my voice cracking with emotion.

Not once in 4 years had the beauty of 800 people united in joyous, reverent song over the birth of Christ moved me like it did last night. And as the sanctuary dimmed for the lighting of the candles and the singing of Silent Night, my heart soared with fullness of hope for the coming year—for though the darkness in our world is great, the true Light shines and darkness shall not overcome it.

blurry december

December passes every year in a blur. I don't want it to be that way this year, but it seems my calendar and my choices are leading that direction and it's only Day 2 in this, my favorite of months! (Case in point: tonight I will be attending two different parties, and tomorrow a third.) Quiet, stillness, and reflection always seem to get the leftovers of my life rather than the firstfruits. Why is this?

Is it because I have too many friends and I overcommit my schedule to see them all? Is it because I crave activity to produce meaning and a sense of purpose in my life? Is it because I have succombed to the commercialistic culture that says that Christmas time is about shopping and gifts and parties? Is it because no one holds me accountable for how I spend my time?

As I ponder the whirlwind of engagements that await me in this month of merriment, I fear that lost in the endless laughter, small talk, toasts, gift-giving, decorations, desserts, carols, and entertainment will be a genuine encounter with my Creator-made-flesh, Emmanuel. During this season of Advent, I echo the prayer of the psalmist:

"Turn my heart toward your statutes and not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your word."

World AIDS Day

If you want to do something, visit these kindred spirits for some ideas. Say a prayer for the millions of AIDS orphans in Africa. Rent Philadelphia or another movie that portrays the struggles of people living with this disease. Wear a red ribbon to raise awareness. Volunteer.

pan integral

Pan del mundo
No hay nada que quiero hacer
Solamente conocerle y compartirle
Mi corazón desea su presencia, su paz, su poder
Para vivir, crecer, y servir

Pan integral del mundo
Ájala que venga a todos lugares
Donde la gente tiene hambre
En cuerpo o alma,
Donde la gente esta enferma
En cuerpo o alma,
Donde la gente esta cansada
En cuerpo o alma

Pan de vida eterna
Favor de llénanos con todo que necesitan
y prepáranos para misión integral
todos los días