Who Are We? The RCA decision to prevent full inclusion in the life of the Church by those who are LBGTQ

I just read a commentary written by a sister in the denomination in which I serve - The Reformed Church in America. We are a denomination born out of the Protestant Reformation and in the 1700's evolved from being the Dutch Reformed to the RCA...(google for more information.) My sister spoke of how our General Synod gathering this year was filled with hatred and mean spiritedness. (GS - time of decision making also Google) After hearing the decision to try and rework our polity (form of governance) it so unnerved her that she felt she needed to self-injure to move the pain from her heart and mind to her body - in order to alleviate it. This pain stems from being told that she as a Queer person is worthless, has no value, should be eliminated etc., etc. But that changed as those of us who are seeking full inclusion for LBGTQ people in the life of the Church reached out to assure her that she is loved and welcomed and is "fearfully and wonderfully made." This compelled me to write and share some thoughts. Last night our classis -(regional governing body) had the opportunity to sit and talk to each other about where we stand on the issue. There are a variety of people with a variety of views on whether or not folks who are LBGTQ should be able to be ordained and married. Yet, while we differ, we were able to sit and share our thoughts respectfully in a safe place and way. This apparently is contrary to what the special council who met in April and our General Synod experienced this year. We heard a report on what occurred at both of these events and frankly I am horrified and disgusted. The point of the special council was to honestly and openly sit and discern together what action the RCA could take going forward about this issue. Several recommendations came out of that discussion but General Synod, which met in June failed to heed any. What happened was a proposal to basically change our polity and elevate marriage to the equivalent of a sacrament. This is not Protestant. This not how we do things. All in the name of keeping same sex couples from being married in the Church and individuals who are called to the ordained ministry from that calling. What really makes my blood boil was hearing that members from other regions did not come to these gatherings in order to wrestle honestly with the issues or what it means to a major section of our denomination - our brothers and sisters in faith...Instead, those gathering were told that they were to take a particular stance and adhere to that stance or else they would face difficult times when they returned home. How dishonest! How disingenuous! And when members of the Body who believe that the "bible says" no to full inclusion, they don't just say it's because of their faith. They apparently do so in the meanest, most derogatory way possible. Shame on them. And these proposals, which are made to prevent members of our denomination from full inclusion took place on the night that Orlando occurred. But Orlando wasn't the only tragedy that took place that night. In our region, a child, just 14 years old, took her life because she was being told s/he wasn't worthy, s/he was a freak, s/he had no value. She was transgender. In this case, it wasn't coming from her church but kids at school. However, this occurs far too often because when people hear church folk saying these kinds of things, it seems to give others a pass to act just as horribly. It shouldn't be happening by anyone. No one has the right to tell another that they have no value or that they can't live their lives in the way that the rest of the Church or society does. We the Church are complicit in these tragedies and we need to acknowledge this. This leads me to ask why ii is only conservative, bible literalists that get to offer commentary on these issues in the news media? There are many ordained individuals who would speak a new or different word on the issue - people who are just as bible literate as the conservative literalists believe themselves to be. The Church and Society needs to hear the position that ALL are welcome at the Table of the Lord and all are invited into full participation into the life of the Church. The LGBTQ community certainly needs to hear this. They need to know they are just as welcome as anyone else to share their love in the marriage arena and serve as ordained ministers. I also want to say is that while some may have a right to believe what they wish, I have heard of NO ONE killin themselves as a result of being loved and supported and invited into the full life of faith - including being able to be married or ordained. But enough people have ended their lives believing the lies that say they aren't good enough, are freaks, and are not welcome into full inclusion. This means more than being tolerated or welcome to join a faith community but not be able to do the things that some say are off limits to them. This is NOT how the Body of Christ should be functioning. We have blood on our hands. In light of that - I also have to say, while many are speaking out against leaving the denomination in order to be present and offer hope for the LBGTQ members who wish to remain in the denomination, I applaud the notion that we are not saying we're taking our ball and going home because things aren't going our way. That is a very mature and faithful way of proceeding forward. But here's the thing. After you've been told for so long that you are worthless; after being told you're welcome to be with us but only to a point; after you've been told terrible things, it has started to sound like the abuse victim who remains in a relationship because "it really isn't all that bad." Or, "this is my home, where else would I go?" We counsel people to leave abusive relationships and make a new start. I'm suggesting that perhaps it is time to consider making a new start. The conversation about marriage and ordination of LBGTQ people has gone on long enough. The arguments against it are the same ones that were made in order to keep women and people of color from full inclusion in the life of the Church. Jesus did indeed say that there was an appropriate time to "shake the dust of your sandals" and move on. Perhaps it is time for us to get shaking and become the community in which EVERYONE can fully participate and are welcome - because they are truly, fully loved. I lift this thought in love as one possible way forward. Anything else seems less than Christian.

The point is...

Sunday: December 27, 2015 Horses got out this morning. I was on my way to church. A congregation of about 13 people. About 6 appeared this morning. It was very similar to Christmas Eve when only 6 of us attended plus the family of four of our organist. It wasn't the end of the world but I keep wondering - focus on church, or on the farm? That is the question. Well, the farm would be doable except that Dave and I are both feeling like we should be wrapping things up, not trying to turn it into a financial success. Fortunately, we have leased some of the land to 3 farmers who grow produce and support CSAs and sell their wares at various farm markets. They are doing what we thought of doing. We also through of establishing a refuge, rescue center for people and animals. That didn't go quite as planned either. But we're hanging in there. We have the 3 horses; Zeus, and sisters Kentucky Rain and Cherry. Here's what I didn't think about when we brought them to live with us. Kentucky and Cherry came in 2010 and were 7 and 8 years old. Zeus came in 2011 or 12 at age 4. Guess what? Horses live until about 25, 30 years old. I will be 86 in 30 years. Dave will be???? So, even as we enjoy them we have to start thinking about their futures. And then there are the pigs. The pigs. Clare who is our 3000 pound pet. And Cinnamon - also a pet. And Bernie and Lil' Spot who make adorable babies. Who grow up. Who need to be fed. Time to reconsider... time to figure out the next round.

Some more random thoughts for 6/24/14

I arrived home about an hour ago from getting my hair done.  It always looks so nice when Leah is finished.  It NEVER looks as nice as when I work on it myself.  Oh well, that's true for a number of people so it's not like it has to be a big issue.  But I want to look put together and professional.  When one of your foster kids compliments you after a visit to the salon by saying, "Now we don't have to be embarrassed when we go out with you,"  you know it's more than just a bad hair day.  That was a genuine comment made a couple of years ago.  It reminded me of being embarrassed by my mom & dad when I was younger although it was more often the case with mom.  From what I know most of us are embarrassed by our parents but it was usually short lived because I didn't want people laughing about or commenting on my parents.  It made me feel sad.   They were older (38) when I was adopted.  That made them rank (at least in years and experience) ahead of pretty much all my friends' parents.  And yes, Mom was overweight.  It definitely stemmed from emotional stuff that she preferred not to deal with but you can't ignore the issues.  They find ways to make themselves known.  Overeating, mood swings, crying jags.  Of course one can experience these as a result of chemical or biological imbalances and life issues are very complex but ignoring the wound inside is generally going to cost something. Because of Mom's issues around eating and almost everyone we ever knew was on a diet, I am aware that my own self-image has suffered.  I look back at pictures of myself, my younger self and wonder why I was so hard-hearted toward me.  There are the pictures that no one would deny aren't flattering but overall, there were as many nice shots of me as not.  But the inner critic wouldn't let me alone.  I was ugly, I was too heavy, it didn't matter what, I could brush off any compliment in record time. 

Now - in my 50's I am really trying to be a lot kinder to myself.  And I do look good in the stylists' chair.  But not only then. 

Small dog goes after something.  Our dog Pansy, the smallest creature in the house things she is a hunter.  Anything that catches her attention sends her into fits of anticipation as she jumps up and down trying to get my attention.  We had already taken our morning walk, successfully when she started the attention dance trying to get me to take her out again.  I did.  Yes, she runs things.  She headed straight for the line of evergreen trees several hundred feet from the house and became frenzied.  For the life of me, I couldn't see anything but she was onto something.  While trying to separate the tightly knit branches of the tree, I heard a hiss.  That did not sound safe.  I manuevered around - on my knees - in my pajamas mind you, trying to see what was making her crazy.  And then I saw brown fur and dark eyes.  It was a baby woodchuck.  Not a newborn but young enough.  Maybe his mom left him there for protection.  Maybe he got lost and found sanctuary.  At this point, this was as far from sanctuary like as it could get but he hung in there and I quickly pulled her away.  (That heavens  I put her on the leash.)  We went back to the house and had breakfast. 

A number of wood chucks make their home on our property.  Another woodchuck story later. 

Spiritual Discipline

It's funny how people pray for things they think they want and then when they get them realize that maybe they didn't want it so much.  Ok, not they - me.  But it's a not uncommon phenomenon.  For my whole life I've wanted a farm. I never thought it would happen that I would own a farm complete with farm animals.  But it happened and for the past 4 years Dave & I have been working on getting the farm back in prime condition.  It's a tough job....a long term project. 
However, what I have come to realize is that the farm is also an answer to prayer, the prayer for spiritual discipline.  Boy - be careful what you pray for.  It has taken a while but I now realize that by having the farm, I am working on my spiritual life at a deep level.  I have come to the point where I find it difficult to keep up with some of the work but it's occurred to me that that's the point.   It's not easy to stay focused and committed to things that take great responsibility and aren't always fun but it's necessary and important. 
So, while my writing discipline still isn't to the level I would like it to be, I realize that I am working on the issue of discipline and focused commitment in the ongoing care of our animals and farm. 
Ok - it's late and I need to go to sleep but I wrote what I needed to. 
Maybe more will come tomorrow.  Or Friday - or sooner or later. 

Sediment in the System

Dave had to work on the tractor the other day and as he finished up, he got some sediment into another part of the tractor - not sure what it's called.   By his exclamation it was apparent that this was not a good thing.   That got me thinking.  We get sediment in our systems and don't run the way we were made to.  Physically our cholesterol gets to clogging our arteries, inflammation affects our functions and sometimes cell existence goes awry.  Mentally and emotionally we also get sediment in the system.  Negative energy, toxic relationships, obstacles which challenge us to our limits are all types of sediments that interfere with smooth sailing.  But we can't avoid it.  The good and the bad are all part of the picture. 
I've been very mindful of the emotional/mental sediment and how it's interfering with my best self.    Therapy and medication are tools I use to keep the system running smoothly but over the last year life has been running like an engine using the wrong fuel.  There are biological reasons for this and ''just because" reasons....It's made it tough to keep on keeping on around here.  I keep myself busy so that my thoughts don't overtake me but it's a crapshoot.  Sometimes the physical work works, sometimes not so much. 
And the thing is, it's affected my relationship with the farm...with the animals.  It's been hard having to take care of the animals.  These days - except for caring for my grandson, the only thing  - person - I want to be responsible for is me.... I've loved animals since I can remember but the drain of having to care for them has become an obstacle to overcome.  It's not fair to Dave who works so hard around here and has grown to love our fur babies.  I still love them but because of whatever it is that keeps me off kilter - I want to say good-bye to them and find them another good home. 
But having them keeps me going....keeps me getting up in the morning because I'm not going to let them suffer.  The dogs and cats as well....but they are such loves, how could I say good-bye, really?

Listening to Garrison Keillor - A Prairie Home Companion...I live in my own Lake Woebegone...if only it were that easy - just to say Woe- Be Gone and the black cloud would dissipate into little fluffs.  But it's just another day on the farm...the end of the day and the animals ar settled for the night and I am ready to surrender to sleep.  And then tomorrow I'll wake up again and take care of the animals and they will be alright.  And I'll be alright....the sediment will get shaken out evetually.  

The Farm - June 2014

It is 5:30 a.m.  Miracles do occur.  It's been 3 days straight that I have awakened at this early hour.  Previous medications had me sleeping until 9-10 a.m.  I'm not sure if this is a side effect of my most recent medication regime but I'm not complaining.  My morning chores are done - although there is always something to do here on the farm.  The animals are fed and watered and later I will attend to mucking out stalls and helping Dave with anything he needs. 
It also occurs to me that if I am able to keep this a regular wake up time, I may actually be able to post on a regular basis.  Write and post.  Write and post.  That has always been a part of the plan for my life but I have been so negligent.  But no self-flagellation.  Just do it.  However, even at this early hour the dogs are managing to be a distraction.  It's amazing the things that can come between a person and her intentions.  Of course it doesn't take much.  Although I say that I want to write, it's truly amazing how much I let distract me.  To quote Dorothy Parker, (I think), I'm more of the opinion that I like "having written."  The actual sitting down and writing takes an amazing amount of discipline.  It's too reminiscent of having to do homework and term papers during my school days.  It's funny though because once I get started, I enjoy crafting the paragraphs that tell a story as well as doing research if necessary.  For me, it's like discovering hidden treasures.  Having to write a sermon on a near weekly basis is pretty much the equivalent of writing a term paper.  Weekly.  That's a lot and I know that when I was younger, it would not have been voluntary thing. 
So - as to farm life, I enjoy the physicality of the work although let me not kid myself.  I do not overload myself when it comes to heavy duty requirements.  The thing is - it's not that I don't want to. I do but my stamina and energy and physical abilities stop lower on the ladder than that of others.  I just cannot exert anymore energy than that of oh, I don't know, a 54 year old grandmother.  But that's really not an accurate picture of grandmahood.  Many women my age as well as both younger and older have much more energy and physical strength to accomplish specific taskes.  And to prove it's not a matter of my age, it's been this way almost forever.  I was never the one to keep up with the crowd, whether running or bicycling.  I do help Dave with his endeavors but he knows not to push the envelope.  Once I feel I've exerted my maximum effort, I'm done.  It's over.  I have to go and replenish the energy stores for further tasks. 
This is the really funny or maybe ironic part of this whole farm thing.  It's been more my practice to do less work and here I am taking on what is basically and endless enterprise.  Never mind household ownership, farm reality dictates that there will always be something to work on.  And I volunteered for this.  Wanted it even.  Mom & Dad always indicated that farm life was hard work.  I would say I wish we lived on a farm and Mom would basically snort and say, "Never again." She had grown up on a farm and couldn't wait to leave.  She moved to the city in her late teen years and remained there until she and Dad decided that their family needed to be a suburban family so when I was four, we moved to Monmouth County, NJ.  After reading Charlotte's Webb and other animal related tales, that's when my desire to live the country life awakened.  But Mom & Dad did not mislead me.  For those who fancy the romantic notion of living on a farm -please let go of that fantasy if you ever find yourself with the opportunity to own/live on a farm.  It takes energy, effort and efficiency - if you are inclined to that level of self-discipline.  For those who are - things may be somewhat smoother. For those of us who are, shall we say, more flexible, it can be daunting to get everything accomplished that you want to.  And even that statement is somewhat misleading as there is no ending to the tasks that are part of farm life.  However, living on a farm provides endless fodder for storytelling and so that's the plan as I continue this blog.  Which up till now had only 20 entries.  Yikes, that's not going to get me anywhere.  Not if I'm serious about wanting to write....and since the advice is to write what you know, this is what I know.  Or am learning about. 
But -as my most recent FB posts shows...while life on the farm is work, it also provides a lot to write about.   Yesterday's upheaval with the chickens comes to mind:  After one of our chickens came running around to the front of the house - faster than Andy Pettite I ran to the back in time to see a fox picking up "dinner." I started screaming "fox, fox!!!" Our weekend/holiday kid J came running back around as well and threw the hot dog buns that he was holding, over the fence and then hauled himself over. The fox wisely decided to make a break for it. As we headed back to the grill J says to me in all seriousness, "I thought you were shouting the F word." I am still laughing.  And I am...still laughing.  what a hoot.  Although that word has escaped my lips before, it's not something I would be running around screaming...in my head  - maybe but not out loud.  In front of a kid or kids.  Anyway - this is the type of thing I want to record and share for those who may be interested but it's also a way to just do what I say I want to do and that's write.  Does anyone else have any ideas to keep me going? 

Enough of winter

It's winter.  There's snow.  A lot of snow.  But it's winter in the northeast and snow is traditionally  a part of the picture.  It's just that this winter there has been a lot more snow than we've seen in recent years.  Funnily enough it was a winter like this when Dave & I first met; February 1994.  We  both attended New Brunswick Theological Seminary in NJ but didn't know each other.  That February there came the deep snows that people remembered from our childhoods.  The kind that had snow mountains on every corner of every street.  The snow started coming down and kept coming so by the end of the day I knew I wouldn't make it home.  The wipers weren't clearing the windshield and although it was only a 16 mile drive home, I wasn't going to risk it.  I asked the RA of the dorms if I could stay in the extra room and he said ok.  It turned out to be an ok which led to a rather route changing event....I was about to meet the man of my dreams.  How corny but true.  We actually met in October when a mutual friend introduced us while doing Hebrew h.w. in the library.  Dave was rummaging through the books for his h.w. and noticed Kathy and myself talking and working.  He came over, said hi, I said hi and that was the extent of our communication.  But 4 months later we got to spend a couple of hours together playing a seriously competitive Trivial Pursuit marathon with other resident students.  Over the next several months we got to know each other as he finished up his final semester and I added a couple of credits to my files.  Twenty years later and we're living on a farm in sort of upstate NY (south of Albany - 150 miles north of NYC).  So, an "ok" led to my childhood dreams coming true; the man of my dreams on a farm in the country. Cold country however. 
It's been cold this winter.  Zero degree and below kind of cold.  The snow just keeps on falling.  Which is fine except not this year.  I don't know why but I've had enough.  After moving north in 1998 I took up xc skiing and came to enjoy the snowy days and nights which provided time for little mini-retreats from the everyday routine.  Maybe it's that we have to be out more often tromping around in the knee deep snow in order to feed the farm animals.  I've always wanted to live on a farm and now I do.  I enjoy it.  But I confess that having to carry water from house to barnyard in 20 and 10 degree weather is not fun.  I don't know how people manage to work in the cold for days and weeks as a time.  The animals manage. We keep them sheltered and fed.  But it does wear thin after several weeks of it.  So yes, I have been whining.  At some level I have adjusted.  I noted recently on my FB page that I was running back and forth to the gym in shorts.  In sub-32 degree weather.  Which I would never have done in my younger years.  So yes, getting older doesn't mean things can't change.  Other things that change don't always feel good.  Like memory loss.  It's not like I haven't forgotten things before but that was mainly due to distraction or not really being interested in what I needed to be interested in.  But now I'm forgetting things that I really am invested in - although I second-guess myself by saying that if I was really committed to them I wouldn't forget.  But I'm really forgetting.
Like meeting times and appointments.  I have to write big notes and leave them around so I can be reminded of where I need to be.  And even then it's not always enough.  I have meeting reminders what's the word - oh yes forget them too - programmed into my smart phone but the phone isn't smart enough to make sure I pay attention and tonight I missed a meeting I wanted to attend and am really mortified and pissed.  I cannot believe I missed it.  I had everything all planned out as far as chores and dinner and getting out the door on time.  And I did all that.  Except I was an hour behind time. 
Where oh where is Erma Bombeck when we need her?  When I need her.  She went through the experience of being oh so human while also being able to turn it into fodder for her column which provided her with an outlet and an income.  Wouldn't mind being able to do that for myself.  That's part of why I joined Toastmaster International. I wanted to be able to hone my speaking and leadership skills and maybe find an outlet for my love of speaking and also being able to uplift others.  Laugh at self, encourage others, earn a living.  Living on the farm provides it's own material which if I could pull it all together would find me where I'm meant to be.  But no more whining. At least not for tonight.  It's time to check things out - make sure the animals are settled for the night and then plan my day for tomorrow.  It will be interesting to see if I can fulfill the goals for the day.  But if nothing else...the cow, the pigs, the horses and chickens, dogs and cats will all be fed and sheltered and in that the day will be well spent.  Dreams really do come true.