My Carefully Calibrated Difference

I recently finished Sara Miles’ excellent new book Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion. Sara chronicles her surprising mid-life transformation from atheist to Christian and her calling to establish a food pantry in one of San Francisco’s most economically disadvantaged neighborhoods. Passionately committed to the unconditional welcome of Jesus’ Table, Sara and her food pantry volunteers embrace schizophrenics, drug addicts, little children, ex-cons, and sweet old ladies alike. One particular section of the book has really stuck with me:

So I’d sit down next to people and let them talk or cry; I’d listen and put my hands on them; at some point, I’d pray aloud, without really knowing where the words were coming from. It felt homey, not mysterious. But it usually made me cry too…

If my carefully calibrated difference from others wasn’t going to be the vitally important thing about me, then my identity was going to be bound up with all kinds of other people at their most vulnerable and unattractive…

It was my own weakness, my own confusion and hunger; it was everything I couldn’t be sophisticated and together about. Of course I was going to weep, and pray, with her.

My Daddy and Me

In memory of my Daddy
I love you and I miss you

A Lesson from Nature

The flowering of Spring and the anniversary of my father’s death prompted me to publish this entry, which I originally posted on Conversation at the Edge last year.

I learned a beautiful lesson from nature a few years ago from a scene that unfolded outside my living room window during a very difficult time in my life…

In May 2003, my Dad died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. He was 56 and very healthy - a runner, cyclist and mountain climber. He just dropped dead one day and the coroner had his body for three days before they even found the cause of death. Dad was single and I’m the eldest child so the responsibility fell to me to take care of things. The shock and grief I felt were overwhelming and I had no clue what to do. The coroner said to me, “When we are ready to release his body, you will need to tell us where to send it.” That was when I realized, “Oh my God, I’m in charge here.” There was some family crap which exacerbated things and made it all more stressful and painful. I missed Dad desperately and felt helpless. But I’ve learned that you can do what you have to do.

Praying for My Enemies - Part 2

When I decided to undertake the spiritual exercise 10 People to Pray for to Start Changing the Word, prepared by my friend John Lamoreau, I really didn’t think it would be all that difficult. After all, I think I’m a pretty nice person. And I don’t really have any “enemies.”

But John’s list was disturbingly practical – pray for the family member who bugs you the most, your most obnoxious co-worker, the most abrasive person in your church. And the guidelines said to not pray for these people to change in the way I want them to, but to pray for God to bless and guide them.

This exercise turned out to be more difficult than I thought. The list also included the politician you most dislike and the most evil person in the world who comes to mind. But it was actually harder to pray for the people in my own life that I struggle with, than it was to pray for a nasty dictator! Some of the prayers were said through clenched teeth.

Justice and Compassion Blog

I’m excited to announce the debut of the new Justice and Compassion blog, sponsored by Off The Map. I will be co-hosting the blog with my friend Benjamin Ady. I hope you will join us for a conversation about how to create a more just, compassionate and peaceful world.

In the Dust of My Rabbi

As part of a series on discipleship, my Sunday School teacher recently shared with us a beautiful ancient Jewish blessing. He explained that in the 1^st century, there were many prominent rabbis and each rabbi would have disciples. It was a great honor to be invited by a rabbi to become his disciple, but becoming a disciple did not simply mean to become a student of the rabbi’s teachings. It meant actually following the rabbi from place to place, becoming like him, emulating his actions and attitudes, developing his character. It was common to say to someone who had become a disciple: “May you always be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”

I have thought a lot about this concept as I have been seeking to understand what it truly means to be a disciple of Jesus. I was raised in a Christian setting where all the questions had easy, direct answers and faith equaled certainty and superiority. It was a world of doctrinal statements and eschatological charts and clearly defined roles. It was a boundary-focused faith that made it very clear who was in and who was out. Following Christ was defined largely by maintaining and protecting those boundaries.

Listening to More Diverse Voices

As an avid reader, I was recently prompted by some comments on another blog to make a critical examination of my reading list. The bloggers in that particular discussion were sharing with one another their book recommendations and I noticed that every one of the authors mentioned were Western white males. Since it is a blog that appeals mainly to progressive types, I was surprised and I prepared to post my enlightening observation.

But then it occurred to me that I should probably inventory my own reading material first. So I got up and went around the house and collected the last 26 books I’d purchased and read. And 22 were written by Western white males. Three by women and one (ONE!) by a two/thirds world author. Yikes! Suddenly I didn’t feel so self-righteous.

It was a good wake-up call and I’ve set a goal for myself for 2007: I need to broaden my reading list. I need to hear more diverse voices, more people of color, more women and especially, more non Westerners.

* Can you recommend some books for me that represent more diverse voices and communities?