a treasure in a fragile, clay jar...

I normally don't post sermons or things like that. I am not that decent of a preacher to bother with that embarrassment.  But this is the eulogy that I wrote for Donna Cannon's service today. It was a labor of love.  

Mark Twain said, “under certain circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.” While his theology is often questionable, I think that Twain nails this one.  

This sucks, damn it.

I mean that in the most theology appropriate and astute way.

This just sucks.

We knew that today would come. We knew that everyday that we had with Donna was one more day that we shouldn’t have gotten to have with her. And yet, I think that I speak for many of us when I say that we never thought today would come.

I never thought that it would be me standing up here remembering Donna with you. Because it seemed that she defied and would continue to defy death and have more lives than all the cats in the Cannon household combined.  

I don’t know of anything that I can say that will make today easier. I don’t know of any magical set of words that I can recite, no time and tested proverbial saying that has been passed down from the mountains to the people below that I can wisely impart unto you… I got nothing that is going to change the reality of today. I know that…

We love her.

We miss her.

And damn it we want her back.

But that doesn’t mean there is nothing to say at all. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t hope. While I don’t have the magical cantation to make today easier, there is something that I can share that has the power to make our tomorrows better.  

You see Donna was a woman of faith. She knew Jesus. You only had to meet her once to know that was true. She wasn’t one of those over pious or pretentious Christians. Donna was real and so was her love for God.

She would question and she would get mad, but she knew her God was big enough to take it. Her God was big enough for her shouts, big enough for her cursings at Him, and big enough to stand in her presence and love her when she was scared and tired and in pain.

We need not worry about Donna anymore. We mourn not for her, for she is finally well. But we mourn for us. We ache because of the hole that her absence has left in each of our lives; and that hole will be with us until we see her again. And- we- will- see her again.

Because Donna had faith in a risen God. In a God that death could not conquer. In a god that rose and said I am making a space for you, for each of you. And because of this God we know that we will see her again. Because Jesus conquered death, we conquer death through him.

I want to read a scripture today that is from 2 Corinthians, chapter 4. It reminds me of Donna.

But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.

 But just as we have the same spirit of faith that is in accordance with scripture—‘I believed, and so I spoke’—we also believe, and so we speak, because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us with you into his presence. Yes, everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.

 So we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.

My friends, do not lose heart. Donna was a treasure trapped in a fragile, breaking clay jar. But from those cracks, the light of Christ poured out and warmed us all.  

We have come here today to celebrate Donna’s life and to remember not only who she was, but to celebrate and remember whose she is. Let us not forget that Donna belonged to God and she knew it. And while we may not have her physically near us anymore, we can be comforted by Jesus’ words to us—I will go and prepare a place for you—and that’s because Jesus’ death and resurrection means that our physical death is no longer the end of the road for us. It means that these bodies that weigh us down—wont’ slow us forever. It means that these hearts that ache for ones who are not with us—will be broken no more. It means that all that keeps us from feeling whole, will fade away. Because of Easter—death has no hold on us. Because of God’s love for us, we will see Donna again one day.

We grieve for us today. We feel an emptiness and sadness for someone we love that is not here. But let our hearts not be troubled, because Donna is home and Donna is well and we will be with her again.  

a letter to lifetouch

Below is the letter that I wrote to Lifetouch. Lifetouch is the company employed to take the photographs of clergy at North Georgia's Annual Conference this year. I found their advertisement to be sexist and offensive :) I accidentally gave my copy of the flyer to my lay delegate... but I will post it once I get a copy of it. They touched my life in a negative way.

Dear Lifetouch,

My name is Tara Paul and I am an ordained elder in the North Georgia Conference of the United Methodist Church and serve as my conference representative for COSROW (Committee on the Status and Role of Women). While I serve on COSROW, I am not writing this in my official capacity on the Conference Advocacy Team, but as a concerned clergy woman.

Last Sunday night, delegates from my district gathered to review the information for Annual Conference. One of the pieces shared with us was an advertisement for clergy pictures to be taken during Annual Conference. This advertisement is the reason for my letter to you today.

We are presented with images on a daily basis that reflect values, viewpoints, theology and ideology. These images are intentional, though the person who encounters these images often is not aware of all of that is behind each image. Almost always these images are manipulated in order to elicit some sort of response. I imagine that none of this comes as a surprise to you.

As I looked through my packet of information and came across the flyer for pictures by LifeTouch, I was taken aback by the two images of clergy that were presented. The closer, more prominent image was of a confident, warm smiling man. His face is prominent and it is inviting. The image positioned behind the male was of a small woman, body away from the camera, arms folded, glasses hiding her eyes and no warmth radiating. She was not only physically in the background but you could feel her distance. These two images juxtaposed revealed a strong man and a weak woman.

As a female clergy, this image startled and saddened me. More and more women are saying yes to the call of God on their lives and yet the struggle to be seen as equal continues. Images where the female clergy are shown as reserved and submissive influence the theology in our churches and impacts how effective women can be. Positive images of women are so hard to find these days. The church is one place where all that women bring can and should be celebrated and not relegated to the back.

My hope is that in the future as you reach out to share your ministry with churches and conferences that you will be mindful of how the images that you show impact the work of God in communities.

May God’s grace prove you stronger,

Rev. Tara Paul

manicures and communion

One of my favorite things to do is to take Hannah to the nail salon and get our nails done. She is girly girly and really enjoys the beauty of fresh polish. I just like to have someone give them the kind of attention that I don't have the equipment or the desire to do.

When you get a manicure, or a pedicure for that matter, one of the things that you notice is that they touch you all the time. It's not simply that they hold your hand to get a better angle on your finger tips, but they gently caress your hands, they put lotion on them and then massage the lotion into your skin. They hold them gently in the palm of their own. There is lots of touching. And at times it feels very intimate, even though you don't have a clue what your manicurist is saying to you--something about gel coating.

I often wonder as the woman (or man) across from me caresses my hands if there are people who come to get a manicure just because they long to be touched (and not in a massage parlor kind of way)?

On Sundays when we celebrate Holy Communion, I think about people who are lonely a lot. Partially, because it's a time where we remember that we are one body, united under one Lord sharing one loaf and one cup. We are communing with each other and God. It's a built in time of community. Lot's of one-ness. Partially, I think about the lonely at this time because I know that there are women and men who when they leave the church will go home to an empty house or to a loveless home. It's this stark comparison of what God wants and offers for us and the world that we live in sometimes--sometimes by own choice or the consequences of our choices and sometimes out of unfortunate circumstances.

When it's time to receive the elements, I always try to touch the hand of the person when I place the bread in it and remind them of what it represents before I say their name.  I do sometimes wonder if it comes across as creepy-- I try not to linger or caress, but I figure that there are two lines and if it really bothers someone they can go to the other one next month. But I do it because I know that sometimes this may be the only touch that a person receives in a day or a week and the human touch is so powerful. It conveys connection and warmth and caring. It helps us know that we are not alone and it helps us heal.