My Grandfather

currently reading: The Road to Character by David Brooks

My grandfather was the most devout man I have ever met.  His faith touched every small piece of his life in a way that was simple and beautiful.  Grandpa had an unparalleled work ethic, unshakeable faith, and a very simple lifestyle.  I think he would like David Brooks’ book and I think Brooks would like my grandpa.  

While I think that my grandfather embodied many of the values that Brooks articulates, I like to say that one of the things that made my grandfather remarkable was that he was good at loving.  Love is a common theme in The Road to Character.  It is something that drives us forward compassionately and is stronger than death.  I often think that my failures of character can be seen as failures to love well.  When I think of abusive behaviors, violence, selfishness, and other ways that people show poor character, I can also see those acts as failure to love well.

I am reminded of a man I knew who could have been a better father to his children.  When one of his daughters died, I was angry at him; she was mentally and emotionally unwell and I wanted to assign him some blame for that.  As time went by, I realized that this man visited his daughter’s grave every day.  He watered it; he laid new sod; he was meticulous.  After I spoke to him for a bit one day in the cemetery where she is buried, I couldn’t feel angry anymore because I realized how deeply he loved his daughter, despite his failures to live up to that love.  

When I think about love this way and about my character as being rooted in love, it seems clearer to me that developing my ability to love well-- in ways that manifest in my life and in the lives of others in concrete, felt ways-- is developing my character.  It also allows me to better forgive myself and others who may not have loved me well.  

What remains is love.  It is the core of each of us and when it is well developed, its spread is unstoppable.  This week, as I continue to think about the lives that have paved the way before me and the saints who I feel called to celebrate, I will remember their examples of great love.  I hope to continue their loving.  

Jacob Learns Maturity

Throughout the Road to Character sermon series, we’ve been challenged to examine our lives and our dominant cultural paradigms.  Adam 1 models of success in our country certainly help us to accomplish things in life and develop ways of caring for ourselves, our families, and our world, but while career virtues certainly have their place and merit, if we allow the values that lead to business and financial success to dominate our lives, we may find ourselves existing in ways that are a detriment to our Adam 2 natures.  

In reorienting ourselves to focus on our Adam 2 natures, perhaps we will not only develop the kinds of traits that leave lasting positive impressions on the world and the lives we touch, but maybe even the cultures of our workplaces or the ways that we engage social media.  After all, the Road to Character is not to be walked alone.  Much of our personal examination may be solitary, but character is often best built among community-- with the support of others who commit themselves to similar paths and with ears that hear the voices around us so we can learn to respond to the needs of the world.  We can also rely on Spirit to uphold and guide us on our journeys.  

The goal of our work together, of the path that we walk, is to continually become better people than we were… better than we were 10 years ago, better than we were 3 months ago, better than we were yesterday.  David Brooks offered many examples of great lives, but ultimately the standard we must hold ourselves against is our own.  Am I kinder than I was last year?  Am I less selfish?  Am I better at hearing and responding to the needs of the world?  While I hope that the arc of my life is one of continuous improvement, part of being honest with myself is knowing that it won’t always be, which is another reason I believe community is so important.  It is support from loving community which can make our hardships much easier to survive-- and which can help us turn them into blessing.  When we stumble, our community can help us back up again.

The last section of the last chapter of The Road to Character is entitled “Stumblers.”  As Brooks closes his book, he offers that, “The good news of this book is that it is okay to be flawed, since everyone is… we are all stumblers, and the beauty and meaning of life are in the stumbling-- in recognizing the stumbling and trying to become more graceful as the years go by.”  We pursue progress, not perfection.  We seek maturity, knowing that sometimes getting there will involve wrestling with ourselves and with God.  We seek a beautiful life, knowing that beauty comes not from quick fixes or expensive shoes, but from big and small moments over time that build our character and our sense of peace and harmony with the world.  We must help create those moments as much as savor them.  

Wanting to Believe

"I and those of my generation probably don't believe in God, in angels, and even in miracles the way our ancestors did.  But that doesn't mean we don't want to believe.  We just don't know how to talk genuinely about believing anymore."
-Renita J. Weems, Listening for God: A Minister's Journey Through Silence and Doubt

In this continuously changing world, faith must look different with the passage of time.  The needs and concerns of my particular experience are vastly different than those of my spiritual ancestors-- not just my parents and grandparents, but the folks who lived in distant times... the times in which my biblical texts were written.

Unlike those times before widespread literacy, the internet, telephones, or knowledge of other continents, my world is global.  I know not just the terrible and wonderful things that happen within near proximity to me (of which there are many), but the terrible and wonderful things that happen all over the world.

I can imagine that if I only knew people in Santa Cruz and seldom encountered people from beyond its geography, my faith would look different.  If I didn't have a television or a phone or knowledge of the hard and soft sciences, my faith would look different.  But I do have a television and a phone.  I have taken numerous courses in hard and soft sciences.  My level of formal education exceeds that of most human beings who have walked on this planet, including those who wrote my sacred texts.

But my human condition-- the chemicals that fire through my brain, the cycles of life... death, love, rebirth, grief-- how much have those changed?  The ways that I cling to familial support and love.  Certainly mothers loved their children 1,000 years ago as much as they do today.  Certainly grief broke people 2,000 years ago as much as it does today.  Certainly love ignited our souls 300 years ago as much as it does today.

The wisdom of our faith traditions can speak to the ancientness of our souls and characters.  Scripture can speak to emotion-- to grief, anger, love, and joy because such experiences haven't passed away with the ages.  But the ways we imagine the narratives must be different because our world is different.  We understand and relate to our surroundings and neighbors differently.  The challenges of our world are similar and different.  Childbirth, parenting, marriage, love, infidelity, grief, death... job insecurity, terrorism, global climate change, racism, food insecurity, chemotherapy, surgery, car accidents...

"Traditional" imaginings of God (we'll ignore that imaginings of God have varied over the ages more than most "religious" people would tell you) are inadequate for the modern experience.  Clinging to the old can bring comfort, but it can also lack usefulness.  I might love to drive around a car built in 1950, but at some point, it will likely cease to serve me well.

As we re-imagine how to communicate with each other, how to travel, how to stay informed, how to be married, how to parent-- should we not also re-imagine how we pray, how we conceive of God, how we worship, how we form sacred bonds, and how we serve our God and neighbors?

Our ritual and faith must evolve.  We must challenge both the ways we believe and don't believe.  We must seek new answers.

Sometimes I believe in God and other times I don't, but I've been a Christian since the first day I claimed that truth.  I think the new Christianity needs to allow for theistic fluidity-- for atheism, agnosticism, monotheism, polytheism, pantheism, panentheism, and whatever else might work for us because if we are honest, we can find all of those things in the Bible and if we are honest, we can probably find all of those things within ourselves (or at least our neighborhood!).  I believe Christianity is bigger than our theisms and more important than our differences.

We must re-imagine worship so that it can be multivalent.  We must re-imagine faith so that it is less concerned with what we believe than how we practice our beliefs in this complicated world.  If we want faith to transcend time, we must find what is transcendent in our faith-- because not all of it is.

My Bleeding Body

Yesterday, I dressed in white.  

I dressed brightly.  I covered in my body in the color best able to reflect light.

I wore the color of strong women who demanded the right to vote for people with bodies like mine.

I know the risks of being proud of my body... because I am a woman.  

Can you hear me?

I know the risk of reflecting light off the shape of my thighs because I am a woman…. and my thighs have been touched without my permission.

I have been sexually harassed in dresses and baggy jeans and sweatshirts.

I’ve been disrespected with short hair and with long hair.

My face has been criticized with makeup and without.  

I’ve been too skinny and too fat.

Too loud and too quiet.

It’s too much.

It’s too little.

Don’t sit that way.  It’s not feminine.

Don’t talk that way.  It’s not feminine.

Don’t cross your legs.  People won’t take you seriously.

Don’t wear too much makeup.  People won’t take you seriously.

Keep your body covered or people won’t take you seriously.

Yesterday my body cramped.  I fed it and drank tea and still the twisting in my side told me something the news anchors seemed reluctant to admit.  

Yesterday my body cried because it needed healing.

Today my body is tired.  

Today my body shakes with caffeine and fear.

Today my body is one to be grabbed at and judged.

Today my body is one to be discarded with age or boredom.

Today my body is one to be controlled by law.

Today my body is an object.

Tonight I wear black because this body is grieving.  

Tonight I wear a collar denied to bodies like mine for centuries and in other sanctuaries across town.  Every woman in this room knows that there are still people who don’t want us to wield power or influence.

Tonight I wear the color that absorbs light and warmth.  Because this body needs healing.  But I know that this body, capable of creating and carrying life, can heal itself.

Tonight I wear the uniform of service because this body knows how to endure pain and sacrifice for love.  This body knows how to heal itself after being torn apart.  

Tonight I wear black because I am a woman and I claim all of the grief and power that comes with that today.  

The Sermon Writing Process

The sermon writing process. #myccsm #seminary #internship #liberation

The Road to Character: Moses, the Reluctant Leader

Penny's sermon on Sunday was challenging.  I feel so blessed to be interning at a wonderful church led by gifted, deeply spiritual people.  Our current sermon series on The Road to Character by David Brooks is challenging and meaningful in a way that I can feel deeply.

Sunday's scripture used was Exodus 3:1-5.

Penny's sermon, "Moses, The Reluctant Leader," was preached at the Congregational Church of San Mateo on October 18, 2015.  An audio version of the sermon is available on the church website here.

Here is my response:

As I listened to Penny’s sermon, “Moses, the Reluctant Leader,” I thought about her metaphor of the mirage-- a distortion. “The Road to Character,” in many ways, is a response to the distorted individualism that seems to dominate many aspects of our culture. Bonnie’s children’s moment also spoke to this reality. As the “selfie” dominates many of our social media feeds, we see that sometimes self-acceptance and self-love can tip over a line into a kind of self-involvement that may be unhealthy. I scrolled through my own Instagram feed to compare the number of images that were of me with the number of images that were “worldies”-- pictures of other people or the world around me. I found it a healthy exercise. I had to ask myself if I was using my voice to celebrate myself (which is sometimes earned and deserved, certainly), or to celebrate others or share thoughts, joys, and/or concerns that weren’t so centered around ME. Was my Instagram feed beginning and ending with self(ies)?

This kind of self-examination and honest look at how we move in the world is what David Brooks calls us back to again and again throughout his book. I think that Penny’s use of Moses to illustrate this offers a very interesting counterpoint. As I move back to the metaphor of mirage and how our sense of reality might be distorted, I have to unpack it some. Our senses of reality can sometimes, admittedly, be distorted in ways that perhaps celebrate ourselves more than is healthy or deserved. Is my Instagram account full of pictures of my face, or does it display my world in a way that is more balanced? What does it say about my priorities, how I spend my time, or what my values are? When I think about how to divide my time, are all of the ways I spend it essentially self-serving? Is my sense of reality distorted in a way that allows me to think of myself as more value-centered than I am? These are such hard questions to ask myself, but I think they are very important.

On the other side of that coin, as I think about Moses and his reluctance, I also have to ask: is my sense of reality distorted in a way that DEvalues myself? Am I reluctant to post a selfie, because I never feel worthy? Am I reluctant to post or say things about “hard” topics like political issues, critiques of consumerism, racism (or any other issue of justice) because I feel unequal to the task or unqualified? Do I shy away from participation in activism, like a letter-writing campaign, canvassing, or protests? Am I reluctant to speak up when someone uses an ugly word or bring up “serious” topics because I don’t feel powerful enough to take them on?

As is evidenced by the number of question marks above, Penny’s sermon was challenging and asked me to try to be objective and honest about my ways of being in the world. When I think about my values, I have to ask myself if I am bravely living them into the world or keeping them swirling around in my head, where they cannot create change. I have to ask myself what my actions, words, and Facebook feed say about my values.

I am reminded of words of two great figures in history, who call us to value ourselves without distortion and plant ourselves deeply in the world so that we can respond to its needs:

“My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” -- John F. Kennedy. We can insert “God” or “the world” or “the people of God” for country, too.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” -- Marianne Williamson

Like Moses, many of us are reluctant to rise to the world’s challenges and meet them with the best of our strengths. Our senses of distortion can inflate or deflate our senses of self. Meeting ourselves with honesty allows us to improve, to love ourselves in ways that bring that love into the world, and to rise to God’s call and find where we are needed in the world.

How am I summoned in the world?  Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

The Road to Character: Mary's Path to Purpose

In the following video, David Brooks speaks about his book (which my church's current sermon series is inspired by) The Road to Character.  He talks about confronting and overcoming our brokenness, as well as resisting our own forms of oppression.  Watching this video first may help my sermon make more sense.



Below are links to the scripture and poetry used for my sermon:

Scripture readings:  Matthew 1:18-19 and Acts 1:12-14

Poetry reading:  Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye

My sermon:  Mary's Path to Purpose
(Delivered by Joliene Wade Gatlin at the Congregational Church of San Mateo on October 11, 2015)

Each of these videos speaks to the themes in my sermon.  I believe they elevate the message and recommend giving them a listen/watch.









Following is a live version of the same song ("Cold War") performed by Janelle Monae.  It is equally powerful.  I couldn't choose which version to share, so I'm sharing both.  In her live version, she explains why she wrote the song.





Brooks, David. The Road to Character. 1St ed. New York: Random House, 2015.

The Road to Character: Joseph Rises Above His Dreams

Read: Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

Listen:  Joseph Rises Above His Dreams, sermon by Rev. Dr. Penny Nixon at Congregational Church of San Mateo on September 27, 2015

My blog reflection:

Yesterday we continued Joseph’s story and watched him climb up the “U-Curve” or “parabola” of his continuing narrative. When we left Joseph the week before, he was in a pit, both literally and metaphorically. He found himself in one of his life’s low points, forced to consider his trajectory. Hopefully the stories of our own lives are a bit less dramatic than Joseph’s, but no matter how grand or small our narratives are, most of us can identify with the story. Life brings hardships our way… and sometimes we are culpable. As Penny pointed out, though, the things that nearly destroy us are often the things that save us. Such experiences often build strength that we carry onto our next challenge. Sometimes we need to feel like we have failed in order to develop further.

When Penny talked about the song she sang as a child (about being a weed in God’s garden), it was obvious to most of us that we needn’t develop an extreme response to our own human failings. None of us should go through life feeling like a blemish on the face of God. However, I think much of society’s reaction to this “beating-down” kind of religion has been equally extreme. I’m reminded of my nephew’s middle school promotion ceremony, at which every student received an award regardless of their accomplishments or lack thereof. While no 5-year-old should be told they’re a weed, it seems irresponsible to celebrate academic mediocrity and to validate laziness. I think David Brooks is calling us to a middle path: humility, which he articulates as “radical self-awareness from a distance.” Self-awareness doesn’t require us to beat ourselves up for sins we don’t have, nor does it celebrate mediocrity. Humility isn’t obsession with our flaws, but honesty with them in a way that allows us to see ourselves as part of the web of humanity. We can reject obsession with sin without thinking we are exempt from it. Adam and Eve’s story may be one of original blessing, but they were still capable of failing.

Developing our characters is hard work that for many of us, requires an experience that may parallel that of Joseph. A strong character requires more than the vague morality that society often sells us. Penny suggested that working on your moral core can be like working on your physical core (like at the gym). Holding a plank pose might look easy, but it’s not. True moral strength requires us to confront our low places, humble ourselves, and operate with a sense of radical self-honesty, which can be very hard work. As Penny used the metaphor of the plank exercise at the gym, I thought of how I eliminated that very exercise from my own home workout-- it was too hard! While I can forgive myself for deciding that my physical strength is not a “core” (ha?) value, I had to extend that metaphor. In what ways might I be giving up on moral strength? As much as enduring the discomfort of exercise has its rewards, so does enduring self-criticism. Am I trying to improve myself, or am I allowing my faults to go unchecked? When someone tells me I’m being difficult or suggests ways I might improve, am I willing to hear it, or do I respond defensively? When I feel badly about something I’ve done or the way I said something, do I confront those feelings within myself, or do I brush them off and “not let them get me down”? Am I being honest with myself, or trying to protect my ego?

Joseph, ultimately, owns his strengths and uses them for great good, but he was only able to do so because he confronted his misuse of such strengths and the ways that he used them to build up his ego. By the end of his story, he wasn’t using his talents to leverage his position in his family, but to help his family and the nation. I hope to return to his story to remind myself of the perseverance necessary for developing character.

The Road to Character: "Joseph and the Big Me"

Please watch/read/listen to these in order:

Scripture: Genesis 37:1-11

Poetry: Last Night as I Was Sleeping by Antonio Machado

Sermon: Joseph and the BIG ME by Rev. Dr. Penny Nixon, Senior Minister at the Congregational Church of San Mateo

Penny’s sermon on Sunday (“Joseph and the Big Me”) offered a unique interpretation of Joseph’s story.  Our traditions often celebrate Joseph in a somewhat one-sided way.  He ultimately rose to greatness, but his hubris made him not-so-great to be around, at least in earlier stages of his life.  His brothers’ violent overreaction is one that Bible interpreters often (rightly) suggest was wrong, but it is less frequently that we hear people ask what leads folks to such desperate acts.  Without condoning their violence, we understand that Joseph’s unexamined privilege led him to act in ways that ultimately fomented an extreme reaction.

In order to make sweet honey out of our past failures, we need to work on them.  Joseph was capable of great things, but not when he thought he was.  His arrogance led him to mistreat his brothers, but furthermore, to do so while oblivious about the impact of his words and behaviors.  That Joseph-- egotistical, oblivious, and overly-confident-- was not the Joseph who rose to greatness.  

One of my professors, Rev. Dr. Boyung Lee, says that we become arrogant when we stop asking questions because we think we know all the answers.  Understanding arrogance as a lack of questioning allows me to see how slippery that slope can be.  To believe I have mastered something can be the route to that mastery slipping away from me.  There is a thin line between confidence and overconfidence.  

Penny’s sermon ended on quite the cliffhanger: we left Joseph at his low point.  While that point was a beginning of upward trajectory for him, Joseph needed to sink that low in order to be humbled.  Penny suggested that true humility is seeing ourselves in the perspective of the whole.  Joseph, at the beginning of his story, truly lacked that perspective.  He was unable to see his privilege, the ways that others perceived him, and his hubris.  

This week, for me, will be about self-examination.  After the cliffhanger ending of the sermon, we heard our choir offer a beautiful rendition of “Down to the River” and we meditated on the rivers of our own lives.  As I spend this week at my internal river in prayer, confronting my own reflection in its water, I am reminded that a river is in continual motion.  To draw from the Disney movies of my childhood, I’m reminded of a line from one of Pocahontas’ pieces of music-- “you never step in the same river twice.”  Each of us is in the process of becoming.  While confronting our reflections is important work, it is done with the confidence that change is not only possible, but inevitable.  

This week I hope to pray at my river and meditate on humility.  What does it mean to see myself from the perspective of the whole?  As David Brooks asks in his book, “What are my circumstances calling me to do?”