Provocative Hope

Today I tagged along with Jennifer as "the intern" to a meeting. This particular gathering was a group of clergy who work in West Nashville. They were coming together to discuss beginning a group of people of faith to organize as a community and fight against various problems they see in Nashville. Homelessness, food deserts, speaking out against bills up for vote on Tennessee's capitol hill, you name it.

The most magnificent thing about this, however, is that these clergy included Christian ministers, Jewish rabbis, and a Muslim imam. Women and men, different races too.

Here we are in a world where some people think it's okay to burn a Qur'an (I mean really?), where sometimes women still get paid less than men, and where racism is still alive and well. But here is this group, truly trying to grow with one another.

I'm sure there are plenty of people that disagree with this union, and plenty of people that would not be not willing to engage in what I think are essential interfaith experiences. To each his (or her) own, but I really believe that there is so much to be learned from people of faith whose traditions are different from our own. And to be learned from people not of faith, for that matter. I am by no means saying we should drop everything and change our whole belief systems. I'm still Christian. But I cannot bring myself to automatically condemn someone just because he or she doesn't like Jesus as much as I do. We're all people, and we're all on the journey, longing for something to guide us as we stumble through this crazy world. These opinions of mine are in all likelihood largely because I have good friends that subscribe to a multitude of religions (and who have varying degrees of aversion to religions in general). But those are

It is so so inspiring to me to see God at work in Nashville and in this group I witnessed this morning. Sure, people in the room disagree on some major issues. But the fact that they are willing to take the first step in putting those aside (for now) to be able to address issues they can agree on is a lovely thing, and I find it encouraging that it seems I'm not the only one that thinks so. One woman at this morning's meeting described the fact that this kind of meeting was taking place as "provocative and hopeful." I don't think I could've said it better. It's pushing the boundaries, doing something unusual. But however small it begins, hope is there too, for a dialogue of faiths that everyone can benefit from.

Love,
Allison

Jesus was a cool dude...

Well, I feel rather hypocritical that I blogged about not forgetting the hard stuff that happens during Holy Week and only said a few things about Good Friday. But, I'd feel weird writing about Good Friday now, since it's already Easter. I'll just have to promise a Good Friday blog next year.

This Easter has been interesting. Good, but strange because for the first time in my life, I am not with my family today. I mean, I am, in a way, since I think at this point I consider some people here a family of sorts. But you know what I mean. But like I said, it has indeed been good. Today started with a "sunrise" service down at Room In the Inn's Campus for Human Development. (I use the quotation marks only because by the time the service started at 7am the sun was already up.) 2PC co-sponsored it, so there were a lot of familiar faces. The wonderful thing though is that there were unfamiliar ones too. A good number of Room In the Inn participants were there along with folks from 2PC and other Nashville churches. It was such a wonderful mix of people, dressed in everything from dresses and ties to whatever clothes a person had happened to find at a donation center. I noticed the communion table too, which as it seemed sort paralleled the crowd that was there. The pretty standard ceramic chalice and table cloth, next to the plastic pitcher of grape juice from the kitchen, and the bread still in the foil plate it came on. It all went together quite beautifully if you ask me.

After helping serve breakfast to some participants after the service, Mary Kate and I headed back to 2PC for breakfast! Though we didn't actually contribute anything ourselves, it was technically a potluck so there was quite the array of delicious things. Drank some coffee, filled our bellies and after a quick trip to Vandy to pick up a student I was back for the 11am service. I forgot how crazy church is on Easter. New vocab word I learned today: Chreasters. Pronounced like...kreester. C&E's. Christmas/Easter people. It's kind of wonderful. Regular Sundays are lovely enough, but to have people spilling out of the sanctuary? Kiiiind of exciting. And everybody's all happy and excited and the choir busts out the happiest parts of their repertoires. I'm not one to talk outwardly about Jesus all the time, mainly because I don't want it to seem like I'm trying to shove Christianity down anybody's throat. But friends, at least for me, this is what it's all about. Like...no wonder everybody's so happy on Easter. No wonder I couldn't help but smile during most of the service(s) this morning. To know that no matter how much we mess up, how much we struggle, things will be ok and we will be loved? That is awesome. And I don't mean awesome like "oh dude that tie dye is awesome." (Though that statement is totally legit.) I mean that I am in awe of how wonderful that that is.

We spent dinner at Mary Kate's 2PC adoptive family's house, and it was just really lovely to get some home cooked food and hang out in a real living room with a family. Granted it obviously wasn't my house, but it was nice, to say the least, to be in some sort of pleasant homey setting on Easter. All in all a joyful day indeed.

All sortsa Easter Love,
Allison

My adoptive 2PC mom kindly dedicated a lily in the sanctuary to me.
Now the Toolshed has a real live plant for decoration!

P.S. - The title of this post is inspired by a camp song called "Jesus Was a Cool Dude." Sing it to the tune of "We Will Rock You." And ideally stomp and clap just like the real song...

Jesus was a cool dude

Forty days with no food

He wrote the golden rule

And that's okay

He's got blood on His face

Thanks for the grace 

Spreadin' His love all over the place 

Singin' we will, we will praise Him (whoop!) [the whoops are important!]

Praise Him (whoop!)  

We will, we will praise Him (whoop!)

Praise Him (whoop!) 

...yeah. You're welcome for that. Happy Easter, friends.

The Meaning of Maundy

Maybe you all know the definition of the word maundy already. But since for some reason I feel totally comfortable sharing things here on the internet, I'm telling you that I sat at 2PC tonight halfway through the Maundy Thursday service realizing that I had no idea what the word actually means. I mean I know that Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper (which led to the communion we celebrate today, every first Sunday, and the occasional other church holiday), and is also the origin of foot washing. Well, speaking of foot washing...

maund·y

[mawn-dee] 

–noun

1.

the ceremony of washing the feet of the poor, especiallycommemorating Jesus' washing of His disciples' feet onMaundy Thursday.

I've heard of foot washing before, and foot washing was part of the last staff devo of the summer at camp both years I worked there. But I don't know that I actually realized the real connection between foot washing and Maundy Thursday. I mean for goodness' sake, it's the definition! If you're unfamiliar with foot washing, there's a handy dandy link to the Wikipedia article on it in my last post. I think I never really made the connection because, at least as far as I can recall, I don't think I've ever been to a Maundy Thursday service that involved foot washing, until this year. The idea though is that Jesus ends up turning the tables on his friends, his disciples, and he washes their feet. Usually a job for servants, this caused quite the stir (which it turns out was not an unusual reaction to Jesus' actions). The point though, is that we are all called to be humble servants. I think the number of ways humble servanthood can manifest itself are infinite,  and I think it applies to even the most important and influential of us. And that's a indispensable idea, within the Christian context or not. 


Another thing I noticed tonight at the service is that the term "night of love" kept coming up. It surprised me at first, because I think I associate Maundy Thursday and Good Friday with each other. I mean obviously they're related, but the truth is that, at least until Jesus gets to Gethsemane, Maundy Thursday was a good time. Serious. But good. Full of Jesus' love for his disciples (which I suppose in turn means all of us). After Jesus washes the disciples' feet, he says: "I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:34-35) Now, I'm not trying to undermine the seriousness of Maundy Thursday and the betrayal, trial, and crucifixion that happen after the Last Supper. (Scroll down a couple posts for thoughts on why the sad stuff is important.) But I think I've also realized that our knowledge of what is coming in the next few days can sometimes overshadow the wonderful spirit of community and love that was present at the Last Supper. I mean, Jesus knew what was up. He knew what was coming. But if he wash feet and say all this of love, surely we can too. 


Love,
Allison

This is weird.

It's weird that last night was PSF's last worship service for the year.

It's weird that that means last night was my last worship service with PSF.

It's weird that the students I work with are leaving in a matter of weeks.

It's weird that I feel so supported and loved by those people, though I see most of them only on Tuesday nights.

It's weird that Nashville feels like home.

It's weird that my days of actually living in Davidson are over.

It's weird that I think that makes me kind of almost a grown up.

It's weird that the people I love are so spread out.

It's weird that I know for sure where I'll be next year. 

It's weird that my plan for after that is finally coming together.

It's weird that I think I'll end up attending more Holy Week services this week than I have the past four   years combined.

It's weird that I've been alive for 22 Easters and this is the first time I feel like I've really, truly paid attention to the days that lead up to them. 

It's weird that I want feathers in my hair. (Seriously.) 

Weird is a weird word. 

But I think weird is good.

PSF still has one more week of hanging out, but our end-of-year festivities will be at Jennifer's house next week so last night was our last evening at St. A's. Seriously, when did that happen? It's weird (yeah...that word again) that in my head I've been saying there are a few more months left in this year. There are, technically, but things will change after Vandy's graduation. Most of the people I've gotten to know will be going their separate ways, back home or off to a summer job or a different new adventure. A couple months after that I'll be off on my own new adventure (more on that later). But it's strange for these end-of-year things to be happening a good while before the end of my year. It's lovely though to think about the connections I've made at PSF, and the community that I at least feel like I'm a part of. Like for example. During worship last night there was a part where myself and a senior who will be a YAV next year went up front and Jennifer prayed for us, while everyone else came forward and laid a hand on us. My eyes were closed and my back was to most of the folks there...so, I don't know whose hands were whose, but I felt like they meant it, you know? Whatever "it" is in a laying on of hands. It's such a supportive and loving community here, and even though we met just seven-or-so months ago, it's real.

There was a lot of emotion in the air last night in general. Not only was it the seniors' last worship service with PSF, but in observance of Maundy Thursday we had our own little foot washing during worship. All this thinking and talking about servanthood and humility, added on to the end of end of the year. There may not have been tears or outward displays, but the emotion was almost palpable in the air. And powerful too, at least for me.

All this talk of new adventures, and I haven't blogged about my plans yet, at least in any detail. Official news (that has already been shared with the Facebook world): I'm going to New Orleans next year! Though I don't know what my specific job will be yet, I've officially accepted a placement in the Big Easy for, as fellow YAV Emily calls it, some "YAV double dipping." The plan is to spend the year further discerning what I feel is a call to go to seminary. Figuring out where to go and what in the world to do with that theological education. So we'll see where that step takes me, but at least I've got a place to live next year!

Love,
Allison.

Holy Week, here we come.

So today was Palm Sunday. The day we celebrate Jesus ridin' on in to Jerusalem on a donkey. We Presbyterians miiiight even move around enough to wave a palm branch or two. I mean, at 2PC the whole congregation even starts outside and processes in together waving palms amidst the occasional declaration of "Hosanna!" Woah now.

It's a generally happy morning, and marks the beginning of Holy Week, which ultimately culminates in Easter. But what about the stuff in the middle? During his sermon this morning, Blake (2PC's interim pastor) pointed out that Palm Sunday and Easter traditionally have lots of people in attendance, but Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services are usually quite small. We tend to look over the "bad" stuff. The depressing, challenging, heartbreaking stuff. Easter is so full of joy and hope and forgiveness...but Jesus has to die first. He has to be betrayed and arrested, he has to suffer, and he has to die. That's pretty significant. Why aren't we as eager to remember that as we are to go to church on Easter?  Why does the hard stuff have to happen in the first place?

Besides the obvious answer that Jesus couldn't have risen from the dead if he hadn't died, another thing from this morning's sermon still has me thinking. The idea that these events had to happen to God's son, so that God can relate to us. Obviously I can't speak from a parent's perspective, but I'd imagine there wouldn't be a whole lot harder than watching your child go through what Jesus went through. It makes sense then that when we are suffering or going through unthinkable things, God is that much closer to us. It seems that it's the least we can do, then, to take some time this week and remember the trials and tribulations that challenged God and God's son. At the very least it will make the joy of Easter that much more magnificent.

Love,
Allison

Yes

My friend Emily (she's a YAV too) shared this poem with me today. I really kind of love it. (Who says "really kind of" in the same sentence?) Anyway. She put it her blog as well, making it extra easy for me to share it with you, my hypothetical blog readers (hey Mom). You should read Emily's blog sometime. She's a neat lady. 

"God Says Yes To Me"

Kaylin Haught

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic

and she said yes

I asked her if it was okay to be short

and she said it sure is

I asked her if I could wear nail polish

or not wear nail polish

and she said honey

she calls me that sometimes

she said you can do just exactly

what you want to

Thanks God I said

And is it even okay if I don't paragraph

my letters

Sweetcakes God said

who knows where she picked that up

what I'm telling you is

Yes Yes Yes

Love,

Allison.

Belonging

Well friends, I've been thinking about Nashville a lot lately. The end of my year here is in sight (three and a half months is at the same time a good while and not long at all), and I keep thinking about how much I'll miss it. I'll save the rest of the I'll-miss-you-Nashville talk for July, but I've realized recently that Nashville finally feels like home. I mean, it's not home home, but this feels like my place, you know? Finally I know my way around (ish), and can tell you (sometimes) the different names that one single road is called by my house, by Vandy, and downtown. Sometimes I even know a back way to go if the traffic's bad. I walk into PSF Tuesday nights and know names and maybe even a few life details of most if not everyone in the room. I look forward to TOT on Thursday nights because I think I can even call the folks there my friends. There are friends I've made at Isaiah 58 when I serve lunch there (almost) every Tuesday. That's not to say I don't miss people or places, and that I don't worry about the approaching inevitably transitional years of my life. (I talked about that in my sermon at PSF that you can find in the post right before this one.) The point is, right now Nashville just feels right. I'm good here. One of my fellow YAVs mentioned once how it feels as though little pieces of our hearts are with certain places and different people...and I just really feel like for a long while Nashville will have one of those pieces of mine.

Thoughts on Preachin'

Well, first off, I've noticed my Southern upbringing (by which I mean being-raised-by-Ohioans-that-happened-to-move-to-the-South) quite a bit lately, because I've said the word "preaching" a lot in the past week or two, and always I drop the g. Hmmm...

Anyway. Towards the beginning of the semester (or maybe the end of last...I don't know. Sometime.), Jennifer asked if I wanted to preach a sermon this term. Sure, that'd be a good experience, right? So I said yes.Well, then I actually thought about it, and realized I had to pick a scripture (yeah that's right, we rebels at PSF don't follow the lectionary...) and actually come up with something good/useful/insightful/interesting to say about it. That stressed me out a whole lot. I feel like I know a lot of ministers who are really great at what they do, which (despite the grace that comes along with one's first sermon ever) is still pretty intimidating. But then I started writing. My semi-nerdy religion major self really really enjoyed sitting in the Shed's living room with reference books, notes and a couple Bibles spread out around me. The scripture I picked was Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd..."), which as it turns out was one of Sunday's lectionary texts, so I guess we're not that rebellious after all. I didn't know it was when I picked it...honestly I came across Psalm 23 on my way to look at another one, and for some reason I just decided to pick it. Then that stress kicked in of "Oh man. Everybody knows this one. How in the world am I going to make this interesting?"

But it just happened. I started writing and with a little help next thing you know I had 5 pages. The whole time I was just thinking about how this probably isn't the last time I'll be writing a sermon. And I'm really, really ok with that. Not to mention all the support that came along after I actually gave my sermon at PSF. It's a wonderful thing to get some affirmation after you put yourself on the line a little.

So anyway. To read my sermon go here, and scroll down until you see a link to the PDF file. Not exactly word-for-word what I said, but it's mostly the same.

Love, Allison.

Discipline

Discipline of the spiritual sort, that is.

There's plenty of spiritual discipline to be found during the season of Lent. Folks giving up a certain food, or adding this or that to their lives. Personally, I've been writing letters. One every day. In theory. It's turned more into a one-for-every-day situation in which I catch up on weekends. Someone commented to me as I explained my slack in daily writing: "That's why it's a discipline."

...ok, good point.

As I write this I may or may not be (read: I am) a couple letters behind. But by the end of tonight I'll be caught up. I've also be majorly slacking on the literary adventure front. The same aforementioned person mentioned maybe I should switch books for now. So, I put down Mere Christianity (again, just for now) and picked up Irresistible Revolution, and that was a good call. I know the former is a classic and all, and I fully intend on reading it. I'm just going to save Mr. Lewis until the summer when I have a little more time on my hands to sit down and really pay attention to it. A little easier of a read is well-suited to the current time of year, I think.

So I'm sitting here talking about how I'm not that great at discipline. I mean, it's not new either..my study habits in college were far from ideal. Anyway. then I started thinking about the word.

Discipline.

It's awfully close to disciple, yeah? The disciples weren't perfect. They needed some help along the way. (I mean, Jesus had to tell them he'd make them fishers of men...I don't think there are many people who would just wake up one day and go "Oh. I know. I think I'll fish for people today instead of for food.") They questioned. They doubted. But they still tried and made a difference.

I'm not saying my reading or writing will change the world, and maybe all this is just me trying to justify sometimes forgetting to write my daily letter or neglecting to set time aside for reading. Intentions only count for so much, but I think at least hope's not lost for my current undertakings!

Now, off to write a letter and a half more, and maybe even get some reading done. :) Until next time, friends.

Love,
Allison.

Simplicity

The devo I wrote for PSF's email today, in case anyone's interested:

“Simple living” is a topic often discussed and emphasized in the YAV community, and one that we Nashville YAVs recently learned more about in the book we’re currently reading together. Something I’ve been thinking about since our latest discussion is the fact that living simply is not solely about living with less money or fewer belongings. It’s never a bad practice to really think about what you buy and to avoid unnecessary clutter, but simple living can equally emphasize conscientiousness regarding the things we do acquire. The book we’ve been reading mentions the Quaker tradition’s emphasis on simplicity, for example, and quotes Thomas Kelly, a Quaker leader: “Prune and trim we must, but not with ruthless haste and ready pruning knife, until we have reflected upon the tree we trim, the environment it lives in, and the sap of life which feeds it.” There isn’t an overarching rule amongst Quakers against earning or investing money. Instead exists an emphasis on analyzation and reflection by each individual. It’s all about context, and figure out what’s right for yours.

The right way for you to live simply might indeed be to trim down purchases and go through all that stuff lying around. Or maybe it’s deciding to buy fair trade foods and clothing. Perhaps, though, it doesn’t even have to do with money at all. Thomas Kelly is again quoted, this time about simplifying the way we use our time: “Too many of us have too many irons in the fire. We get distracted by...our interest in a thousand and one good things...simplicity needs to be expressed not merely in the dress and architecture and the height of tombstones but also in...opposition to the hurried, superficial tendencies of our age.”

So, take a few minutes and think about how you can simplify. You don’t have to get rid of everything in your dorm room or apartment. You don’t have to commit to never earning any money. Think about what’s right for you, and give it a try.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God--what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

In case you're curious, the aforementioned YAV book is Practicing Our Faith, and is edited by Dorothy Bass. Also, speaking of books, I've been sorely lacking in my efforts towards crossing things off of my literary adventure list, but I'm working on it! Still on Mere Christianity...

Love,

Allison