Yesterday, when I arrived home after toiling away at the phones until 8 pm, an envelope was waiting for me on our dining room table. My roommate, Kelsey, had left it there to greet me as she went out and enjoyed her Friday night. This is a rather normal occurrence, and normally wouldn't be worth noting, except that it was one of the large, official looking envelopes, and the return address was Louisville Seminary.
Immediately, my heart started pounding. I saw the next three years of my life potentially decided by what was contained in that envelope. I knew the admissions committee at the seminary had been meeting this very week. Could they have come to a decision so early? In trepidation, I opened the envelope to find....
A housing application. Oh well - I guess this dress rehearsal for next week helped me prepare for the affect, right?

ashes

Last night, after travailing the Louisville bus system, I fought my way to James Lees Presbyterian Church for Ash Wednesday service. I was late because I didn't recognize my bus stop. As I arrived, harried and upset because I had missed the opening, I saw the table in front of the sanctuary covered in candles. I learned later that there was one lit for each of us in the service.
We were each handed a small piece of paper, on which we were to write down those barriers that keep us from being close to God. Phil, my minister and one of the officiators, quoted a Sufi mystic who spoke about how there are 10,000 veils between us and God, but none between God and us. We bent them in half, and placed each one in front of our individual candle, to shine light upon and through that which we keep between us and our creator. Then, one by one, the Phil and Judd (the other officiator) burned each of them to supply the ashes we would be using. Instead of tracing a cross on each of our foreheads, we dipped our hands in the ashes, covering them. As we felt the grittiness under our fingertips and over our palms, we contemplated how similar this is to the conditions of our own lives, spotted and speckled and coated with a grit that keeps us from revealing what we could be to each other and ourselves. We were charged to go about cleaning up our souls with the same desire we had to clean our hands. It gave a new, deeper theological meaning to Ash Wednesday for me, that I had been missing.
I was also left with a strong desire to keep my hands dirty, not because I didn't want to expose myself, because I felt a yearning to keep on the work of tearing down those barriers. I dipped my hands in the rubble that came from burning up those veils, and I wanted to continue that act of purification. I don't feel that I have done anything significant since I left Cincinnati in August. I have figured a few things out, healed some scars, and restored my emotional state, which is good, but not satisfying. That said, I am anxious to get back to the working for the kingdom of God; I am antsy to get my hands dirty again, helping restore our world and burn up those things that keep us corporately from being that which we are intended to be. I can't wait to get back into full-time service. It's just a matter of time.

We need a prophet

Last night, I watched the State of the Union Address. Once again, I was left indignant about the leadership of our state. I watched THAT MAN started verbally attacking yet another country, in preparation for yet another unjust war, in this case Iran. I heard the sweet-as-molasses-and-just-as-sappy stories he told about those involved in Iraq, which sickened me. He is trying to justify our culture of violence by speaking about the Iraqi elections and their rise of democracy - but true democracy cannot come when we batter people into supporting our causes. He's following the same pattern his predecessors (Reagan, etc.) established in Nicaragua and the rest of Central America. How many countries can we subjugate before we ourselves collapse? We're building something instable - both abroad and at home - because these elections are coming out of weariness, not any belief that the system can work. It's the same reason the Sandinistas in Nicaragua were kicked out of power, though they truly were a people's government - the Iraqis think that maybe if they simply play the game, they'll finally be able to be rid of the violence WE are perpetrating against them. THIS is a crime against humanity.

The Democrats make me just as angry. I listened to them, as they refused to stand up against THAT MAN'S totalitarian tendencies. They spoke about the need to come to the center, and work together to rebuild social security, etc, without actually speaking out against anything except for some privatization scheme that no one really cares about. How I long for a national leader who has the guts to stand up and call this dictator what he is, to stand in the prophetic tradition of Nathan, Hosea, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and Daniel Berrigan. One thing we have learned from this election (horror that it is) is that waffling doesn't get you votes. Speak the truth! Get out there and say exactly what is wrong with our situation - that we are oppressors, and our cultural, structural and physical violence needs to stop to ensure our own survival. No one stays on top forever - we need to build a more equitable society, for our own benefit, because when we're toppled, we'll be treated in the same manner that we treated those below us.

The worst part about it is this talk of faith. The Conservatives co-opt it as if Christianity belongs to them. However, they have forgotten phrases like "Blessed are the peacemakers," and "He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble." It is not following Christ to kill and subjugate others for your own gain; there is no such thing as a "holy war." This is a violation of our biblical mandate to love our neighbor and work for the peaceable kingdom.

The true state of our union is in transgression. I can only hope that we see the light, and work to repair and restore our relationship with our neighbors after such destructive behavior.