Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Some thoughts on my experience at Chautauqua

The first building we stepped inside at the Chautauquainstitute in New York was The Mayflower, one of the UCC houses with a communal kitchen and eating area. The house is historical, beautiful, and humble-- maintained and organized by the power of volunteers and residents with a long history of summers in the home. My husband and I were first-time Chautauquans, fairly uncertain of what to expect. What we found was a well-organized system of preparing, storing, and eating meals, washing dishes and making coffee, while strangers and long-time friends shared stories around tables and participated in intellectual conversations about politics, arts, philosophy, and theology. Each resident is in charge of their own kitchen duties, preparing meals separately and eating when the time is right for them as individuals and families, but ultimately the kitchen and dining area are constantly filled with the spirit of breaking bread together in communal fellowship. 

Meanwhile, just a few yards away is the Amphitheater, filled with well-known speakers and preachers, musicians who rumble the soul, and the world’s largest outdoor organ. While we were there we heard Sister Joan Chittister and Gordon Wood, but other speakers this summer include Jack Spong, one of my favorite theologians, and Ken Burns, who began my love of documentaries. 

Chautauqua was founded as a community where respectful public discourse could take place, with an ecumenical worship service in the Amphitheater every morning, and denominational worship services on Sunday mornings and some weekdays or evenings. 

“Chautauqua is dedicated to the exploration of the best in human values and the enrichment of life through a program that explores the important religious, social and political issues of our times; stimulates provocative, thoughtful involvement of individuals and families in creative response to such issues; and promotes excellence and creativity in the appreciation, performance and teaching of the arts.”

My job at Chautauqua was as the “Chaplain of the Week” in the three United Church of Christ houses. It is a once-in-a-lifetime experience which I would highly recommend to any UCC pastor or chaplain. I led a worship service on Sunday morning, a discussion session on Tuesday afternoon, and a Vespers service on Thursday evening. I took the opportunity as a chance to speak about Judith, the title character of the Apocryphal book of Judith* on which I did extensive writing and research in Seminary and continue to study now when I find the time.


For me, it was renewing to speak about Judith. She has contributed a lot to my faith journey and often finds herself buried underneath the day-to-day tasks of ministry. When I spoke about her, I remembered my passion, and many of the people who were there empowered me to bring her to First Congo of Ripon in ways I haven’t done in the two years I’ve been here. Originally, I was asked to record the sermon so that I could post it on the website, but as I prepared for it I realized that it was a sermon, or at least a version of a sermon, that I’d like to bring to First Congo in person. So I didn’t record it, and I wait with anticipation for the day I’m ready to introduce them to this person, or character, who has inspired me so deeply to serve God in the way I do. 

So why am I so nervous about it? Judith comes with a lot of side-notes—two in particular. First, there’s the big glaring question of how and why the book of Judith is not a part of the Protestant Bible, and what kind of authority we should give her story in comparison to, for example, the book of Ruth, Jonah, or the prophets. Second, there’s the gruesome climax of the story-- the decapitation of Holofernes and the question of how, as people who don’t condone violence as a path to reconciliation, we can interpret that part of the story. With those questions in the way, it’s hard to see the beauty in her leadership skills, integrity, empowerment, and faith, and the way in which she stands out as a woman in early Judeo-Christian history. 

Chautauqua felt like the right place to bring a sermon on Judith, because I knew that I’d have a week to answer questions, to discuss, to explain—and that Chautauquans come to hear new ideas and open themselves up to dialogue. Being there helped me to realize that so many of the people at First Congo are about those exact same ideals, and that Judith will create engaging conversation when I invite her to the church. 

I want everyone at First Congo to highly consider spending a week at Chautauqua sometime in their lives. It’s a week guaranteed to stretch your mind, to make you consider something new, and at the same time to astound you with the beauty God has given us through art, music, and nature. These are some of my initial thoughts on my time as Chaplain of the Week in Chautauqua. Interested in knowing more? Ask away. 



*I linked to this article because I find it pretty well in line with some of the things I'm trying to say about Judith, but you can also find a very basic summary of the Book of Judith on Wikipedia. 

Monday, July 14, 2014

"And did she make my hair?": How my 2-year-old is forming an Image of God

Lately my daughter has been asking about God.  It all started with a conversation about dandelions in late Spring.  I've always found the sprinkle of yellow throughout  green lawn quite charming and I'd gladly adorn a sweet dandelion crown or set the kitchen table with a dandelion bouquet, while I watch others go through environmentally unfriendly efforts to avoid them. So I found myself sitting on the porch with my daughter this spring as she asked me what kind of flowers were popping up throughout the lawn.  She wants to know the names of all flowers.  I don't usually know them, so instead they are "pink flowers" or "big flowers" to me.  But these ones I knew, and so I told her, "They're dandelions.  Many people will tell you they're weeds, but I say they're beautiful because God made them."

"GOD made them!!??" My daughter quickly replied, surprised, confused, intrigued. "Who is God?" She knows about God, at least as much as any 2 year old Pastor's Kid knows about God, but I knew she was looking for me to explain more specifically.  
"Yes, sweetheart, God made everything-- the trees, the clouds, you and me."
"The house?" 
"Well, no, but God made the people who made the house."

For Evelyn, a conversation which she doesn't quite understand, but she feels intrigued by tends to repeat itself.  So every time she saw a dandelion for quite some time, she'd start this conversation over again, "Who made that?!"  She knew the answer but she wanted to hear me say it again. 

This recurred once or twice a day for a week or two. 
"Did God make this spaghetti?"
"Did God make my brother?
"Did God make this potty?" 
To inanimate objects I would always reply, "No, but God made the person who made that (house, spaghetti, potty)," and that answer was acceptable to her growing spiritual mind. 

Finally one afternoon we were having this very conversation when she finally said, "And did she make my hair?" 

I paused as I heard her use her first-ever pronoun for God, and that it was a female pronoun.  I was surprised as I felt a warmth and a pride swell up in my heart, and said, "Yes, she made your hair." 

I very rarely use pronouns for God, believing that God does not fit inside a specific gender. I know that's not easy for everyone, but I happen to think it's worth the effort and after a few weeks or months of it, it becomes quite natural.  Having learned about God so far only in the context of inclusive language, Evelyn hadn't used a pronoun for God either.  She never asked.  She never seemed to question it. It didn't seem to matter to her until this moment, when she finally used a pronoun and it was a female one.  

I find it fascinating to see the way that the image of the Old Bearded Man Sitting On a Throne on a Cloud doesn't have to be the default childhood image of God.  For so long I've believed that must be the universal image of God when a young faith is just blossoming.  That's how God was always painted in murals and how God was constructed in stained glass, and how I saw God until I was...I dunno... 20? and "He" is so much easier to say than adjusting the phrasing of a sentence to render a pronoun unnecessary.  "He" often fits better into hymns and praise songs.  "He" is the default because for so long we have lived in a patriarchal world.  

Cultural constructs around gender are changing, and I see that change is already taking shape in the way my little girl's mind is forming.  She has no idea that women were ever considered less than men.  She has no idea that there's any power differential between her and her brother, between her daddy and I.  She has no reason to believe that the One who created us has to be male.  

I don't know how long she'll see God as female, and that's not what matters to me.  What matters to me is that she develops an image of the Divine that works for her specific and individual relationship with God, and not just what some Sunday School curriculum or picture book has told her God looks like.  I love that she is a part of our church, with our Sunday School teacher, Miss Olivia, who is open to the unique interpretations our kids come up with, and that she's a part of this time and place where cultural constructs are being questioned and challenged, and where people are free to form their own ideas.

--Pastor Joanna