because I'm (in)consistant

As I cry over watching KONY2012, I think, where are the beautiful things? Where is the difference people like me want to make? "Humanity's greatest desire is to belong and to connect."But how are we connecting? How are we making a difference in the lives of those around us?

I love to hear people's stories. I love to learn from people's experience, to live vicariously through them... to me, hearing other people's stories is life itself. I am a writer, I am a story teller. I was put on this planet to hear, to learn, to tell. It is my calling. But it is all of our calling.

We complain because we have to pay high prices for gas. We complain because the traffic is diverted on Loop 820 and we have to sit in a line for 20 extra minutes in our air conditioned (or heated) cars. We cry because our husbands aren't loving us the "right"way.

Then one day, you pull into a gas station. A lady stands there, with her two-year-old clinging to her knees. She asks you, eyes filled with shame, if you have a couple dollars to spare for gas. She beckons at her car. You are buying cigarettes, only making a quick stop, not even getting gas yourself today because it's Thursday and everyone knows that Thursday is a bad day to buy gas. You always buy on Tuesday because the prices are lower. But her shame speaks to you. It calls to your own shame, and you feel a tug in your belly, not entirely comfortable. You ask what pump she's on. "Pump 6,"she says. You smile. I'll put gas in your car, you say, and with 3 packs of cigarettes, you buy $10 worth of gas for a lonely mother with a little child born into poverty.

Maybe I should have spent all the money on gas and kicked the cigarette habit.
Maybe I should have brought her and her daughter home with me, given them a shower and clean sheets and a hot nutritious meal.

But she was there and I was there, and I did what was in front of me. I helped who was in front of me.

Today I start a movement. I should say, I continue a movement. As I watched Kony2012, I was sad because I couldn't help those children, so far away, so untouchable by mother's arms who want to hold them an give them ice cream and let them be kids... but I can do what is here, what is in front of me.

I can hear an old man tell me about his life, his wife who passed away, his love for music and for sports. I can listen to a homeless lady who's community is stuffed bears she takes to waffle house tell me that her life wasn't always this way, and I can believe her. Today I start a journey. I will pray. I will pray that every day God brings someone to me who needs my love, my money, or my time. And I will give it. Because I can. Because I'm American, and we have our problems, but I have running water and electricity and a little more than enough to pay my bills and buy shoes. Today I will help someone, and tomorrow, too, and I will pray that God brings people to me who need me.

Will you join me?

what about fierce love?

Source

Hans Deutsch, an atheist cartoonist, wrote after his encounter with the Unitarian Universalists:
"There is something that urges me to tell you... how much I admire your utter self denial [and] readiness to serve, to sacrifice all, your time, your health, your well being, to help, help, help. I am not what you may actually call a believer. But if your kind of life is the profession of your faith—as it is, I feel sure—then religion, ceasing to be magic and mysticism, becomes confession to practical philosophy and—what is more—to active, really useful social work. And this religion—with or without a heading—is one to which even a 'godless' fellow like myself can say wholeheartedly, Yes!"

If there is one thing I admire most about UU philosophy, it is wholehearted devotion to love and compassion and justice. It is following up on flowery words with action. It is feeding the hungry, reaching out a helping hand to the weak and helpless, giving hope to the hopeless. It is BEING Christ, rather than talking about him. Of course, those are all my words, not theirs. Those are my impressions from the outside, and I should mention that my impressions from the outside are quite frequently not exactly right in real life.

That said, UU draws from many sources its [completely unorthodox] approach to "church":

• Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life; 
• Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love; 
• Wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life; 
• Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God's love by loving our neighbors as ourselves; 
• Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit; 
• Spiritual teachings of earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

The transforming power of love. Fierce love for those around us. As you know, I am studying to become a Chaplain. One thing that draws me to the Chaplain ministry is the ability to love people - not from behind a pulpit, or within the walls of a church alone, but where they are: in the place where they fell through the ice and discovered nothing was below to catch them except freezing hell. The place where their lives are altered forever on the corner of a street, watching their friend slip away. The place where loss and life intersect and grief guides broken hearts toward an answer. The answer I want to give them is not just an ethereal being somewhere in the atmosphere. The answer I want to give them is love. Fierce Love.

I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God.... (Romans 8:37-39)

Nothing at all standing between us and God's love. Not the icy waters suffocating our breath, not the chill of death gripping our heart, not the greatest distance in the world.

God is LOVE, the Bible says. If we were made in the image of God - that is, with his purpose -  then we, too, are love: it is indeed our greatest and most important function. "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was Love, and the Word was with Love, and the Word WAS love." (John 1:1)

That word, LOGOS in the Greek, is the marriage of human reasoning and Divine intelligence. 

Traditionally meaning word, thought, principle, or speech, [logos] ... is marked by two main distinctions - the first dealing with human reason (the rationality in the human mind which seeks to attain universal understanding and harmony), the second with..the Divine. (http://www.pbs.org/faithandreason/theogloss/logos-body.html)

I leave you with this video... encouraging you to greater heights of FIERCE LOVE!

the flaming chalice

"At the opening of Unitarian Universalist worship services, many congregations light a flame inside a chalice. This flaming chalice has become a well-known symbol of our denomination. It unites our members in worship and symbolizes the spirit of our work."

—Dan Hotchkiss

Source

No matter what sort of Unitarian Universalist Congregation you attend, you will most likely see some version of the flaming chalice, either on their publications, or at the altar, or in some form of art around the building.

I was interested to find out the history of the chalice, so I did my handy internet search and found out some interesting facts behind it!

The following is from the Unitarian Universalist pamphlet called "The Flaming Chalice" by Dan Hotchkiss:

Sharing, generosity, sustenance, and love are some of the meanings symbolized by a chalice. 

 ...The chalice and the flame were brought together as a Unitarian symbol by an Austrian artist, Hans Deutsch, in 1941. Living in Paris during the 1930s, Deutsch drew critical cartoons of Adolf Hitler. When the Nazis invaded Paris in 1940, he abandoned all he had and fled to the South of France, then to Spain, and finally, with an altered passport, into Portugal.

There, he met the Reverend Charles Joy, executive director of the Unitarian Service Committee (USC). The Service Committee was new, founded in Boston to assist Eastern Europeans, among them Unitarians as well as Jews, who needed to escape Nazi persecution. From his Lisbon headquarters, Joy oversaw a secret network of couriers and agents. Deutsch was most impressed and soon was working for the USC. He later wrote to Joy:

There is something that urges me to tell you... how much I admire your utter self denial [and] readiness to serve, to sacrifice all, your time, your health, your well being, to help, help, help. I am not what you may actually call a believer. But if your kind of life is the profession of your faith—as it is, I feel sure—then religion, ceasing to be magic and mysticism, becomes confession to practical philosophy and—what is more—to active, really useful social work. And this religion—with or without a heading—is one to which even a 'godless' fellow like myself can say wholeheartedly, Yes! 

The USC was an unknown organization in 1941. This was a special handicap in the cloak-and-dagger world, where establishing trust quickly across barriers of language, nationality, and faith could mean life instead of death. Disguises, signs and countersigns, and midnight runs across guarded borders were the means of freedom in those days. Joy asked Deutsch to create a symbol for their papers "to make them look official, to give dignity and importance to them, and at the same time to symbolize the spirit of our work.... When a document may keep a man out of jail, give him standing with governments and police, it is important that it look important."

Thus, Hans Deutsch made his lasting contribution to the USC and, as it turned out, to Unitarian Universalism. With pencil and ink he drew a chalice with a flame. It was, Joy wrote his board in Boston:

...a chalice with a flame, the kind of chalice which the Greeks and Romans put on their altars. The holy oil burning in it is a symbol of helpfulness and sacrifice.... This was in the mind of the artist. The fact, however, that it remotely suggests a cross was not in his mind, but to me this also has its merit. We do not limit our work to Christians. Indeed, at the present moment, our work is nine-tenths for the Jews, yet we do stem from the Christian tradition, and the cross does symbolize Christianity and its central theme of sacrificial love. 

The flaming chalice design was made into a seal for papers and a badge for agents moving refugees to freedom. In time it became a symbol of Unitarian Universalism all around the world. The story of Hans Deutsch reminds us that the symbol of a flaming chalice stood in the beginning for a life of service. When Deutsch designed the flaming chalice, he had never seen a Unitarian or Universalist church or heard a sermon.

What he had seen was faith in action—people who were willing to risk all for others in a time of urgent need. Today, the flaming chalice is the official symbol of the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee and the Unitarian Universalist Association. Officially or unofficially, it functions as a logo for hundreds of congregations. Perhaps most importantly, it has become a focal point for worship. No one meaning or interpretation is official. The flaming chalice, like our faith, stands open to receive new truths that pass the tests of reason, justice, and compassion.


Source:
The Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations. The Flaming Chalice Pamphlet by Dan Hotchkiss. http://www.uua.org/publications/pamphlets/introductions/151248.shtml
(emphasis mine)

UU Day 1 - a free and responsible search for truth & meaning

"Unitarian Universalism is a liberal religion that embraces theological diversity; we welcome different beliefs and affirm the inherent worth and dignity of every person."

Whoa, Nelly! When I read this phrase 6 months ago, I thought I had found the fabled pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It described me perfectly! I was excited to jump into my UU research with such a positive stance.For those of you unfamiliar with UU, or perhaps only vaguely familiar with their beliefs and practices, let me briefly school you.

post script on sexual abuse

**As I was writing my blog yesterday, I discovered that I wrote this but never posted it, following my sexual abuse post. I wanted to post it now. Consider it a late P.S. 
Sometimes I think I'm "over" the things in my past, I spend months in a place of homeostasis. Then something happens, and suddenly I'm having vivid nightmares again. Please know, if this is your story, too, that you're not alone. After writing the post on Sexual Abuse and PTSD, I almost gave up my blog. I didn't write or post for months. It was the hardest thing I've ever written, and it still knocks the air out of me sometimes. But, as my friend, Cyn, says, "You are talking and you are ok." If this is your story, please don't stop talking. We share more than you know.**

The thing that happens with sexual abuse is, like a surgeon, it skillfully and exactly severs the tie between your soul and your body. It then strangles your soul until all you are left with is a shell of who you were, walking around empty. It doesn't leave you alone, though... when it steals your soul and life, it leaves you with companions - post traumatic stress, fear, self-hatred, isolation, loneliness, guilt, and shame. So you walk through life with companions you never asked for. With dreams you never wished upon. With feelings you question. You learn to never trust yourself, and certainly to never trust anyone else.

talking (myself) down from a ledge

Photo: Hugh Kretchmer

When I was a young girl, I remember telling my mom I wanted to be a pastor. She looked at me, perplexed. "But women can't be pastors of churches, Joni," she said. Undaunted, I said, "Oh, no, that's ok, I don't want to be a church pastor.  I want to be a pastor out there."

If someone would have told me two years ago that I was going to go to seminary, to become a pastor of sorts, to respond to a call to the ministry, I would have laughed and told them they were crazy. Nothing was further from my mind than pursuing a call to ministry. To me, that meant being a pastor in a church, trying to hide my imperfect life with a perfect facade.  My version of "full-time ministry" was created entirely on disillusion, disappointment, and fear.

One of my application essays to seminary was "Explain your call to the ministry." It took me aback. My call to the ministry? No, that's not what I was doing. I was just wanting to get my Masters in Divinity so I can be a real Chaplain and help people spiritually as well as emotionally! Call to ministry seems like strong language to use for my goals!