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.

the problem with "pre-Christians"

As part of the "All Things New" paperwork, I have been asked to think about times recently where I have engaged and entertained "pre-Christians".

The first time that the phrase was used, I answered the question... kind of. Instead I talked about post-Christians. I encounter quite a few of these... they once went to church and now they don't. They find church to be... too... rigid, too closed, not meeting them where they are. I get these people. Truthfully, I see their point and have felt the same way. At times, I feel that I could slip away and be at home with that life. I expect a lot of the church, it is the body of Christ after all, and there are times when I feel that it has lost sight of who She is supposed to be. The church seems filled with personal agendas, and God I pray that they are not mine.

The second time that that phrase was used in a question, I didn't even attempt to answer the question. Instead, I ranted about the phrase. To call someone who doesn't believe in Christ a pre-Christian makes it sound like Christianity is their destination. As if, we are all on the road to Christ. As if any other path to God is invalid and illegitimate. Those days of us as outsiders thankful to be grafted are long gone... clearly.

The Barna group* posted a study a couple of weeks ago citing why young adults are leaving the church. Leaving. There are some there despite what you might hear on a Sunday morning. One of the reasons why they are leaving is because of the exclusive claim of Christianity. The walls that have come to surround the city make the light that shines within not visible.

I don't like the phrase "pre-Christian". I find it offensive. Offensive enough that I am willing to tell them why. I am willing to write it down and have it go in a file that will follow me everywhere I go. Every time that the cabinet sits down to make an appointment there will be this document in a folder with my name on it before them. And so despite how stupid this seems,  here is why I won't actually answer their question...

it does us no good to talk about Christ in ways that are not gracious (exclusivity is not gracious)
if the only reason why we are engaging people is to help covert them, then we have sadly misunderstood what relationship is about
I believe that we no longer live in a Christian culture--we need to stop acting like we have home field advantage.

I have tried other ways to God. I almost converted to Islam. I thought hard about Judaism. I have been greatly moved by the Vedanta understanding that incarnation happens every moment--that every moment we are baptized into a new life, as new creations. And in this all, I have realized that Jesus is the way to God for me. That the beauty that I have found in other faith traditions is real, but Christ stirs in me something that the other paths were not able to.

I have met great men and women who seek God with all they have, but their label will never be "Christian". This doesn't necessarily have anything to do with Christ, but it has to do with Christianity.

Let's try not to label people with our labels... I don't think that it will serve us well

http://www.barna.org/teens-next-gen-articles/528-six-reasons-young-christians-leave-church#.ToxQX97cVdE.facebook

looking up

So, as I was killing time last week while the kids were at their after school sports practice, I went over to Macy's at North DeKalb Mall and I saw this sign: Men working above. 

I looked up. There were no men. There were not even a bunch women with one man among them (as the Greek may imply). I looked up and I only saw the ceiling of the awning.

Men working above? Where? 

Everywhere we look we see signs. Some pointing us to things that we can see, some pointing beyond the visible. 

When we look up, sometimes all we see are ceilings and awnings that block us from seeing something more, Someone bigger.  We look up and we see rusted lights, frayed wires, exposed fixtures, places that birds and bugs have made as their home... and that's all we see. We don't step out from the under the protection of the awning to look for more. 

I admit that I saw this sign and I laughed. I thought about how the "men" were a trinitarian God and started humming the old Gaither song, "he's still working on me". And then I chided myself for the maculation of God. Someone should report that to the Conference rep of COSROW  :) 

But the Men... the Man... the Woman...Sophia... the army of the Lord is not working above. We cannot/should not look up to see how God is working, but as people of the Incarnate God and people who believe that we are to be the hands and feet of God we know to look vertically. To look around our communities, our churches, our city streets to find the evidence that God is working. The work is done by us because of our love for Jesus and our belief that He is the one who calls us, leads us, and ordains us. 

So, if you decide to follow the signs that point the way, remember to step out of the safety of the awning. You might get wet, you might get burned but you can't get a glimpse of God in the world if you never enter the world. Look up, but look beyond and step out. 

what hannah teaches me

My daughter Hannah is such a great little advocate. Her 5th grade teacher told me that if she ever needed someone to stand on her side and be her voice, that she would choose Hannah. I love how her heart aches for the least of these. She might just relate to them. 

I sometimes think of her as my little progressive Christian and it makes me smile. I am sure that one day she will find herself a nice conservative, bible literalist and will refuse to hold his hand until they are married. And it will drive me insane.

I see how huge heart her is and it makes me honored to know her. I say all this because I talk to her about things and sometimes I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t. Now, I am not talking about the business meetings of the church or telling her annoying habits of her father (she wouldn't care, nor notice). That is not what I mean.

Yesterday, the State of Georgia executed a man. Guilty or not, we may never know. But I asked Hannah on Monday if they were talking about it at school and she said no. So, I told her the story of Troy Davis. And of course, I ended the story with my theological reasons for being against the death penalty. I know that my words will impact how she views this topic. Which is why I wonder if I should share them at times like these.

I ask myself:

What is the value of discovering the realities of life on your own? 

How is my sharing with her why I believe that any act that dishonors the sanctity of life is wrong different from someone who believes that one race, one gender or one sexual orientation is the only way to be or else you are inferior or an abomination? Isn’t it hypocrisy for me to think that it is okay for me to teach my children what I believe and then roll my eyes in disgust when someone else does the same thing?

I feel that I was allowed to discover and pursue issues on my own as I matured. My mom made room for to do so. That is hard to do.

Last night, while the Supreme Court had possession of the case and the fate of Troy Davis I talked to Hannah again. I reminded her of what I had said on Monday night—about how death penalty cases are often political, they often only affect non-whites and how they are about retaliation and not rehabilitation and redemption. But then I told her about the crime—about how an off duty police officer was killed trying to help a homeless man who was beaten. She asked me questions, voiced her outrage about the beating of a homeless man—you shouldn’t do that she cried.

And then I talked to her about how the family of that officer was trying to get to some relief to their pain and suffering by having the man who killed their loved one punished to the fullest extent of the law. She understood that side, too.

My prayers are with both families today.

We live in a complex world and I think that we owe it to our children and each other to honor that. As parents, it’s our job to teach and lead our children and give them what they will need to be competent adults.  That means presenting more than just our favored opinions. We owe it to each other to be more open about the possibilities. 

letting the doors open

this week i am preaching on prayer and so i have been thinking a lot about it. been thinking about why i pray. how i pray. when i pray. realizing that i should pray more because being able to talk about how i pray or that i pray or that i will pray makes me feel more holy.

how i pray is far more in touch with anne lamott's approach of "help me, help me, help me..." and "thank you, thank you, thank you..." than it is with the beautiful prayers of henri nouwen or any of the saints of old.

this is a typical tara prayer:
sigh. god, why did i say that? am i ever going to learn? okay, maybe i will. help me deal with the ramifications of being an idiot. i pray that they are not too bad or too big or too memorable.
help me not tell ______ what i really think when they ask me that stupid question AGAIN. or at least, help me say it in a nice way or in a confusing way so that they doesn't understand it and want to drop it.
sigh again.
god, work in me so that i am a lot more like you than i am like me.
maybe, i am just really tired. would a vacation help? where should i go? i do love the beach? oh, the air as it comes off of the water. the warmth of the sand. cool drinks in the warm air. the smell of the salt. i will come back to that when we are done here. sorry, god.
help me lead the people that you have entrusted unto me. lead me so that this is not about me. i want to be obedient--show me your way.
be with _____...


I try not to call people names in my prayers. i dont think that god likes that. now, you know why i have been thinking a lot of prayer this week. my prayers are quite pitiful. i believe that scripture that god knows the moanings of our souls and the holy spirit interprets them. for me my moanings are sighs.

I was thinking about prayer a couple of weeks ago as i was laying in bed saying my prayers at night. I remember when i went before the board of ordained ministry to be commissioned and this man (laity) was so mad that i prayed at bed time. he said that he hates it when ppl say that they pray at bed time bc when you pray at night you fall asleep and you are not giving god your best-- you are giving god your last. at least, i think that was his point. this is why i always pray at night (other times are not so scheduled and ritualized): when i pray at night it is to open the doors and let my day escape. i deal with the good moments, the bad moments, the frustrating and challenging and spend that time with god telling Him about what is on my heart. i let the doors open so that the stuff that i keep compartmentalized can run free for a while. i used to pray at night to raise the walls--like as a protection against things that go bump in the night. but now, those things that go bump in the night are things inside of me and i need to let them free, not trap them with a wall of protection. so i lay quietly, with conan on in the background and tell god my hopes and fears and stresses and pains and let all of them mingle in the goodness of god... hoping that like bubbles in the water they will evaporate and dissolve. knowing that they will, but sometimes it takes time.

now there is a part of prayer that is listening. and honestly, i am not very good at that, at least not at night. i have to find silence to hear god. listening is for the morning. for when i am alone in the sanctuary before the staff arrive at the church. sitting listening to the wood beams creak and pop. in those moments i hear god. i open the doors here, too. i find that i have to make room for the Presence.

i wont be sharing these thoughts on sunday. i am too busy hoping that i can muster up enough stuff to divert their attention away from me :)