Wake up.
Go back to sleep.
Realize your dog/cat/child is staring at you and even if you pretend to be asleep, they won't go away.
Get out of bed. Walk the dog. Feed the child. Trip over the cat, who is most certainly involved in a plot to kill you in what will look like a random household accident.
Stare at the coffee maker. After several moments, an Easter miracle where the coffee prepares itself won't happen. Make coffee.
Sift through the pile of dirty dishes left undone through Holy Week that have not put themselves in the dishwasher - again! Resolve to have a chat with the dishes about their slacking behaviour. Where are singing teapots and plates when you need them? Find a mostly clean coffee cup. Rinse out. Fill with the nectar of life. Sit down and drink morning coffee. Realize you have absolutely nothing liturgical to do today.
Note that the house looks as if a small hurricane has hit it. Put in call to magical cleaning fairies to do the three hundred piles of laundry, scrub the floors, and sort through the unopened mail, sermons, and Holy Week service bulletins on the dining room floor that you swept off to have Easter dinner on the table.
Watch television mindlessly. Lindsey Lohan is in jail? When did this happen? Call BFF to catch up on latest celebrity gossip. Realize she's a priest, too, and is as clueless as you are because Holy Week happens everywhere.
Take a cue from the cat and have a mid-morning nap.
Wake up. Notice the magical cleaning fairies haven't replied to your request. Send follow-up email.
Decide to eat lunch. Stand in front of the refrigerator for several minutes, silently praying Martha Stewart has left a plate of lamb, braised asparagus, cold pasta salad and seventeen layer chocolate cake for dessert, along with a perfectly paired white wine. She didn't. Wonder if the remaining body of the chocolate Easter bunny is an appropriate lunch.
Eat the Easter bunny for lunch. If you have children, hope they don't miss the chocolate bunny. Decide to blame missing Easter bunny on spouse/dog/cat if the small inquisitors get testy.
Order pizza. Eat two slices, realizing that bikini season is around the corner.
Take another nap.
Magical cleaning fairies are apparently on strike. Didn't get the memo, but didn't know about Lindsey Lohan, either. Decide to log a complaint and clean yourself.
Vacuum the living room, but get sidetracked by The Real Housewives of Crazy-town marathon. Dust will wait. Catfights and botox like this will not.
Check email. Read Perez Hilton's blog. Ignore email that involves thought or reflection. Brain still sleeping.
Remember that pizza eaten on Easter Monday doesn't have calories. Eat the rest of the pizza.
Flip through a few magazines. Note that clergy collars still have not made the spring "must-have" fashion list. When, oh when, will Milan and Paris catch up to this nifty fashion trend of shapeless black blouses of polyester and plastic collars wrapped stylishly around one's neck?
Rummage through children's Easter baskets for more candy.
Use sugar high to load the dishwasher and clean one bathroom.
Crash from sugar high on the sofa.
Take nap.
Wake up.
Smile and realize that even on completely slacker days like this, you are loved by God.
Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Sermon for Holy Week
Last Sunday, during my children's sermon, this occurred:
Me: "So what happens this week?"
Kids: "Easter!"
Me: "What happens before Easter"
Kids: (After some prodding and suggestions). "Jesus dies."
There were several starts and stops here, as we talked about people being mad a Jesus because of what he said, that we killed Jesus, with one boy quickly saying, "Not me." We've all done or seen children's sermons. It's the homelic equivalant to riding a wild horse. You just hang on...
But we eventually got here:
Me: "So what did Jesus say?"
Kids: "To love each other."
Me: "And people killed Jesus because of what he said."
Kids: "That's stupid."
Out of the mouths of the little one. Here's to our journey of stupidity over the next three holy days. And to a God who loves us anyway.
Me: "So what happens this week?"
Kids: "Easter!"
Me: "What happens before Easter"
Kids: (After some prodding and suggestions). "Jesus dies."
There were several starts and stops here, as we talked about people being mad a Jesus because of what he said, that we killed Jesus, with one boy quickly saying, "Not me." We've all done or seen children's sermons. It's the homelic equivalant to riding a wild horse. You just hang on...
But we eventually got here:
Me: "So what did Jesus say?"
Kids: "To love each other."
Me: "And people killed Jesus because of what he said."
Kids: "That's stupid."
Out of the mouths of the little one. Here's to our journey of stupidity over the next three holy days. And to a God who loves us anyway.
Monday, April 18, 2011
A Mediocre Litany (as opposed to the Great One in the Book of Common Prayer)
God the Father and Mother of Heaven, who looks with mercy upon your children and somehow manages not to smite us with brimstone and pestilence, we pray to you this day.
God, hear our prayer.
From all dangers and snares of the devil, and from our own stupidity in thinking we can save anyone else while ignoring the potholes in our own lives, and particularly for ignoring that our need to "save" others is a screaming notice that we might need to do some work on our own wounds.
Good God, deliver us.
From heresy and schism, particularly our fabulous ability to entrench ourselves in our own righteousness while denigrating others with slurs, gossip, and exclusion from the "cool kids" table at clergy gatherings,
Good God, deliver us.
From pride and vainglory, particularly blaming all of our leadership problems on other people not respecting our gifts or opinions, on our bishops and other clergy, and because the day of the week ended in a "y,"
Good God, deliver us.
From impertinence and ego, for offering excuses for our massive screw-ups instead of simply admitting our mistakes, and for taking more credit than we should for our successes,
Good God, deliver us.
From the presumption of awesomeness when we think we are indeed all that and forget that we, too, use the potty just like everyone else.
Good God, deliver us.
From projection and triangulation and our failings to own our own baggage, especially when we talk about another person with someone else and pretend we are processing for "their own good" when we are actually just gossiping,
Good God, deliver us.
From resentment and feeding grudges, that we may own when someone has injured us so terribly that the earth may be salted, the crops burned, and the livestock destroyed, so no hope of reconciliation in the "you're my buddy" sense exists because of the lies and betrayal, but that is still no excuse to slit tires or hope they get warts,
Good God, deliver us.
From envy and jealousy and diminishing others' talents or gifts because they are not our own (or claiming their gifts or work as our own) and ignoring what treasures we have to offer in the process,
Good God, deliver us.
From stupidity and perfection, that we even pretend we have any idea what we are doing most of the time,
Good God, deliver us.
From diminishment, when others would have us believe we are less than we are, that they have "saved" us, and that we owe them for "making" or "helping" us; and for the times we have bought into such hooey,
Good God, deliver us.
From those people and things in our lives that are crack, who seduce us into thinking they bring good and fun into our lives, but really just cause us to sleep on a ratty, dirty mattress in a back alley with smeared eyeliner,
Good God, deliver us.
For causing Jesus to drink gin straight from the bottle for our thoughts, words, and deeds,
Lord, hear our prayer.
Amen.
God, hear our prayer.
From all dangers and snares of the devil, and from our own stupidity in thinking we can save anyone else while ignoring the potholes in our own lives, and particularly for ignoring that our need to "save" others is a screaming notice that we might need to do some work on our own wounds.
Good God, deliver us.
From heresy and schism, particularly our fabulous ability to entrench ourselves in our own righteousness while denigrating others with slurs, gossip, and exclusion from the "cool kids" table at clergy gatherings,
Good God, deliver us.
From pride and vainglory, particularly blaming all of our leadership problems on other people not respecting our gifts or opinions, on our bishops and other clergy, and because the day of the week ended in a "y,"
Good God, deliver us.
From impertinence and ego, for offering excuses for our massive screw-ups instead of simply admitting our mistakes, and for taking more credit than we should for our successes,
Good God, deliver us.
From the presumption of awesomeness when we think we are indeed all that and forget that we, too, use the potty just like everyone else.
Good God, deliver us.
From projection and triangulation and our failings to own our own baggage, especially when we talk about another person with someone else and pretend we are processing for "their own good" when we are actually just gossiping,
Good God, deliver us.
From resentment and feeding grudges, that we may own when someone has injured us so terribly that the earth may be salted, the crops burned, and the livestock destroyed, so no hope of reconciliation in the "you're my buddy" sense exists because of the lies and betrayal, but that is still no excuse to slit tires or hope they get warts,
Good God, deliver us.
From envy and jealousy and diminishing others' talents or gifts because they are not our own (or claiming their gifts or work as our own) and ignoring what treasures we have to offer in the process,
Good God, deliver us.
From stupidity and perfection, that we even pretend we have any idea what we are doing most of the time,
Good God, deliver us.
From diminishment, when others would have us believe we are less than we are, that they have "saved" us, and that we owe them for "making" or "helping" us; and for the times we have bought into such hooey,
Good God, deliver us.
From those people and things in our lives that are crack, who seduce us into thinking they bring good and fun into our lives, but really just cause us to sleep on a ratty, dirty mattress in a back alley with smeared eyeliner,
Good God, deliver us.
For causing Jesus to drink gin straight from the bottle for our thoughts, words, and deeds,
Lord, hear our prayer.
Amen.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Inappropriate answers to interview questions
As I launch into the search process, I have been thinking a lot about interview questions and answers in the church. I hope you all enjoy!
Question: Tell us a little more about yourself.
Answer: Well, I am a big believer in gun control. Like, I really cannot have a gun. On the way over here, I would have shot out the tires of about forty cars.
Answer: I keep a taser in my purse and in my desk at the church. Want to see it?
Question: What is the most meaningful part of ministry for you?
Answer: Uh, let me see, that would be the relationships. I love the relationships, you know, with the hot guys, the repair guy for the copier. You know, you are kind of cute too. Has anyone ever told you that? What can I say; I am a lover of souls.
Answer: Really I am in this gig until I get that part on the Spanish version of The Young and the Restless. They call me “La Rubia.”
Answer: I like the part with the thingy. You know, with that cardboard tasting thing and the wine. Especially, the wine.
Question: What are your greatest strengths in ministry?
Answer: (Flex) These guns right here (kiss both biceps)! You don’t think that chalice holds itself up there on Sunday, do you?
Answer: That would be this moneymaker right here (point to your face). I moisturize every night. I get facials twice a month. I exfoliate every other day. Why aren’t you writing this down?
Answer: It has to be my humility. I mean I am constantly getting humiliated. People say terrible, cruel things to me, and I just take it. You know why? Because they are all true (burst into tears now).
Question: What are your greatest weaknesses in ministry?
Answer: I just do so darn much. I strive for perfection. I also work too hard. Why are you rolling your eyes?
Answer: I have no weaknesses! How dare you ask me such an insolent question! Kneel before me before I destroy you!
Question: Why do you feel called to this place?
Answer: Your church is the closest one to the Dairy Queen. Did I tell you that I love the Dairy Queen?
Answer: I am going to lay this on the line. I am not getting any younger, and neither is this congregation. We are both in a desperate situation. You are not getting any better than me. Did I also mention that I like the drapes in the rector’s office?
Answer: You guys seem pretty cool, so I am, like, cool. Okay?
Answer: You guys seem pretty cool, so I am, like, cool. Okay?
Friday, April 8, 2011
Why We Won't Be Asked To Do Book Reviews Again...
Over the last couple of months, DSM was, along with other blogs written by women, asked to review some books. Because, like almost every other woman we know, we do about a million other things besides full-time Christian service and writing a blog and keeping our homes clean and taking care of children, we're doing two reviews in one, with the usual DSM irony, humor, and tongue-in-cheek. They were both published by Zondervan, which kind of surprised us. We got the books for free, just for full and fair disclosure. We'd have been mad if we paid for one of them. The other is priceless.
Reading books with discussion questions at the end of each chapter reminds us of our sixth grade social studies books: just in case you missed the points in the text because your Captain Obvious cape was at the cleaners, the author has included questions, which are rarely provocative. We wanted, really wanted, Half the Church to be provocative, to delve into the subtitle: Recapturing God's Global Vision for Women. And perhaps it does, for a different audience.
The text itself shifts back and forth, rather disjointedly, between a glowing review of Half the Sky (a book worth reading, by the way), real-world examples from Half the Sky of women in extreme poverty and violent life situations, and Biblical examples of God's vision for women (mostly from the Hebrew scriptures, which we found interesting).
The book read as a, "You Go Girl!" cheer, which is certainly needed for women. Several textual criticisms from Genesis and Ruth particularly lifted out the value and role of women in those narratives. James works to prove her point through Biblical criticism, and mostly well-done Biblical criticism, although she makes no mention of Biblical accounts where women are victims of violent life situations.
James' failure to fully explore the controversy and plight of women in faith traditions almost overtakes the entire text. She does give one chapter to the issue of women's ordination, but settles back into the seeming safety of her previous Biblical commentary that women are part of God's creation. One line gave a hint at the provocative discussion questions which weren't asked. James says, "Everywhere we go, a line has been drawn establishing parameters for how much or how little we are permitted to do within the church."
One question: why is this statement in passive voice? Who drew the line? Who captured God's vision from women in the first place? Did aliens come down and snatch our dignity, our place in the church and the world? Did Klingons decide to interpret the Bible to denigrate the role of women?
James lightly touches the far edges of these questions when she notes that women are understood in roles of wife and mother. She frequently mentions that God envisions a world where women "do life" because there is "much kingdom work to do," but fails to address deeper issues of why are women prevented or limited in their work for the kingdom.
Perhaps this book review is a fine example of expectations: anticipatory disappointment. We hoped this book would explore the many facets of reclaiming God's vision for women, including recognizing that women, too, are created in the image of God and that women, too, were important children of God. James does this with a simple and basic approach. We hoped this book would fearlessly, like Jesus, name the evil that exists in prejudice and oppression. We were disappointed that James stops with the idea that all will be right with the world when women claim these truths, seemingly ignoring that there is a L-O-N-G history of oppression of women in the church...(okay, we'll say it) by men.
However, Becky Garrison in Jesus Died For This? blew us out of the water. Her satirical approach to the entire swath of faith and spirituality was spot-on. She fearlessly asks the questions, makes observations, and names the good and evil and all shades in-between in her self-named search for the risen Christ. She actually sums up the issue of thousands of years of faith: "Many of us see life through a faith fog; we're not so interested in having our vision corrected."
We want to be able to wrap our arms around cuddly, fuzzy Jesus, not the one who stared evil in the guise of self-righteouness, honey-butting religious types and said, "Not so cool." We want to ignore the Church's history of prejudice, of exclusion, of killing others because they didn't fall in line with religion de rigeur. We want, as Becky (we like to think she's a friend, even though we've never met) says, our Easter served on a silver platter, like peeps - soft and fluffy, without all the reminders that WE shouted crucify him.
What Becky does so flawlessly is exactly what Carolyn James failed to do: look at all sides of faith issues. Becky is a satirist, but she doesn't need to ignore the breathtaking part of Christianity to write about the flawed aspects of faith. She writes about them all. In the moments where even she is surprised by the truth that Christ meets us in our fragile, flawed, forgotten, and forsaken selves, we are surprised with her, holding our breath at such a remarkable and stunning truth. And when she nails hypocrisy and stupidity to the wall, she does it with the humorous elegance of a person who loves her faith (mostly), not as a mean-spirited writer.
Martin Luther's Theses would have been so much more fun if Becky had edited them. Or the discussion questions at the end of any book.
So there you go, all of our first-place pageant winners in DirtySexyMinistry Land. Our first book reviews.
Reading books with discussion questions at the end of each chapter reminds us of our sixth grade social studies books: just in case you missed the points in the text because your Captain Obvious cape was at the cleaners, the author has included questions, which are rarely provocative. We wanted, really wanted, Half the Church to be provocative, to delve into the subtitle: Recapturing God's Global Vision for Women. And perhaps it does, for a different audience.
The text itself shifts back and forth, rather disjointedly, between a glowing review of Half the Sky (a book worth reading, by the way), real-world examples from Half the Sky of women in extreme poverty and violent life situations, and Biblical examples of God's vision for women (mostly from the Hebrew scriptures, which we found interesting).
The book read as a, "You Go Girl!" cheer, which is certainly needed for women. Several textual criticisms from Genesis and Ruth particularly lifted out the value and role of women in those narratives. James works to prove her point through Biblical criticism, and mostly well-done Biblical criticism, although she makes no mention of Biblical accounts where women are victims of violent life situations.
James' failure to fully explore the controversy and plight of women in faith traditions almost overtakes the entire text. She does give one chapter to the issue of women's ordination, but settles back into the seeming safety of her previous Biblical commentary that women are part of God's creation. One line gave a hint at the provocative discussion questions which weren't asked. James says, "Everywhere we go, a line has been drawn establishing parameters for how much or how little we are permitted to do within the church."
One question: why is this statement in passive voice? Who drew the line? Who captured God's vision from women in the first place? Did aliens come down and snatch our dignity, our place in the church and the world? Did Klingons decide to interpret the Bible to denigrate the role of women?
James lightly touches the far edges of these questions when she notes that women are understood in roles of wife and mother. She frequently mentions that God envisions a world where women "do life" because there is "much kingdom work to do," but fails to address deeper issues of why are women prevented or limited in their work for the kingdom.
Perhaps this book review is a fine example of expectations: anticipatory disappointment. We hoped this book would explore the many facets of reclaiming God's vision for women, including recognizing that women, too, are created in the image of God and that women, too, were important children of God. James does this with a simple and basic approach. We hoped this book would fearlessly, like Jesus, name the evil that exists in prejudice and oppression. We were disappointed that James stops with the idea that all will be right with the world when women claim these truths, seemingly ignoring that there is a L-O-N-G history of oppression of women in the church...(okay, we'll say it) by men.
However, Becky Garrison in Jesus Died For This? blew us out of the water. Her satirical approach to the entire swath of faith and spirituality was spot-on. She fearlessly asks the questions, makes observations, and names the good and evil and all shades in-between in her self-named search for the risen Christ. She actually sums up the issue of thousands of years of faith: "Many of us see life through a faith fog; we're not so interested in having our vision corrected."
We want to be able to wrap our arms around cuddly, fuzzy Jesus, not the one who stared evil in the guise of self-righteouness, honey-butting religious types and said, "Not so cool." We want to ignore the Church's history of prejudice, of exclusion, of killing others because they didn't fall in line with religion de rigeur. We want, as Becky (we like to think she's a friend, even though we've never met) says, our Easter served on a silver platter, like peeps - soft and fluffy, without all the reminders that WE shouted crucify him.
What Becky does so flawlessly is exactly what Carolyn James failed to do: look at all sides of faith issues. Becky is a satirist, but she doesn't need to ignore the breathtaking part of Christianity to write about the flawed aspects of faith. She writes about them all. In the moments where even she is surprised by the truth that Christ meets us in our fragile, flawed, forgotten, and forsaken selves, we are surprised with her, holding our breath at such a remarkable and stunning truth. And when she nails hypocrisy and stupidity to the wall, she does it with the humorous elegance of a person who loves her faith (mostly), not as a mean-spirited writer.
Martin Luther's Theses would have been so much more fun if Becky had edited them. Or the discussion questions at the end of any book.
So there you go, all of our first-place pageant winners in DirtySexyMinistry Land. Our first book reviews.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Dirty Sexy Vocabulary
A wonderful new friend of mine in my wonderful new hometown keeps ripping off pieces of those paper tablecloths, writing down what she terms, "Dirty Sexy Vocabulary." So Allison, for you, and those who would like to eat dinner off of a paper tablecloth that doesn't look like a rat did the tango on it.
And of course, in no particular order.
Booger Joe - to take something of good or of unknown value and focus only upon its possible negative aspects or consequences. I know I just won a million dollars, but I'll have to pay most of it in taxes, and my new-found wealth will bring me nothing but doom and despair and free-loading cousins.
Honey Butt - to take something of bad or of unknown value and focus only upon its possible positive aspects or consequences. But remember, that honey may be a lovely amber color and have an enticingly sweet aroma, but it's still on the rear of a grizzly bear. Yes, it's a cobra, and I know it's bitten everyone else, but it's been misunderstood and once it likes me, it won't hurt me.
Magical Thinking - the concept that you are perfect, incapable of mistakes, and control the destiny of a person, parish, community, or of all creation with your very existence or with your wise observations. Those engaging in magical thinking hear Jesus preaching the Beatitudes and say, "You know, Jesus got these ideas from me. I preached that sermon two months ago." Cf. the idea that we are perfect. We aren't. We all make mistakes. Admit them and go on. Trust us, no one is fooled. God and almost everyone else sees the strip of toilet paper clinging to your shoe.
The Seduction of Usefulness - (okay, we didn't originate this one. Bp. Sauls did. But we are stealing it). Magical Thinking's trashier cousin that seduces us into thinking we are so profound that our very presence, words, and ideas will save those in our care from themselves or whatever situation we deem them needing to be saved from. Or at least we will be highly useful as we fix their problematic situation. Also, the absence of the humility of failure. See people who hog the floor at meetings, diocesan conventions, or casual meals giving unsolicited advice or u.p.r.'s. Often the fodder for answers to the question: tell us of a ministerial success that you created, planned, and implemented of which even Jesus would be envious.
Terminal Originality - the idea that no one anywhere throughout any part of history has gone through or been faced with the circumstances that face you or that no organization or person in all of creation has just this particular talent or need. God reminds us to get over ourselves.
Eviction Notice - a spiritual practice of preparing a document to be signed by God that removes those who have hurt you, bullied you, or otherwise caused wounds from your interior castle. People do not get to live in your soul rent-free. See also forgiveness.
U.P.R. - unnecessary personal reflection. Sharing tales of your first-hand experiences with personal usefulness and/or magical thinking as moral high marks instead of encounters with the humility of failure.
Ju-ju - atmosphere surrounding a place or person. Good ju-ju gives light and joy. Bad ju-ju makes you want to eat cheap cat food and drink bourbon straight from the bottle.
Expectation - anticipatory disappointment.
Boundaries - holy awareness that we are not other people and that we do not live vicariously through other people. Protects from bad ju-ju and expectation.
Crazy Makers - people who have no boundaries but loads of expectations. And all of that rests on you. And it's all your fault when their expectations are not met. And they are hurt and disappointed and angry. And they will tell everyone else that. But not really tell you. Because you're supposed to fix it. But you aren't sure what it is. And they don't elaborate. Because you should just know. Feel crazy, yet?
Irony - the usual tone of Jesus's parables.
Imperfection - where God hides holiness (again, stealing from Richard Rohr). Here's the whole quote:
If there is such a thing as human perfection, it seems to emerge precisely from how we handle the imperfection that is everywhere, especially our own. What a clever place for God to hide holiness, so that only the humble and earnest will find it! A “perfect” person ends up being one who can consciously forgive and include imperfection rather than one who thinks he or she is totally above and beyond imperfection.
Humility of Failure - where God calls us to growth and awareness. The series of events where we are called to remember we are quite imperfect, we make mistakes, we make situations worse, and we fall short of our own expectations. And when God says, "You are still my beloved. Let's see how you messed this up. And let's see what's next." Syn. A big dose of Castor oil.
And of course, in no particular order.
Booger Joe - to take something of good or of unknown value and focus only upon its possible negative aspects or consequences. I know I just won a million dollars, but I'll have to pay most of it in taxes, and my new-found wealth will bring me nothing but doom and despair and free-loading cousins.
Honey Butt - to take something of bad or of unknown value and focus only upon its possible positive aspects or consequences. But remember, that honey may be a lovely amber color and have an enticingly sweet aroma, but it's still on the rear of a grizzly bear. Yes, it's a cobra, and I know it's bitten everyone else, but it's been misunderstood and once it likes me, it won't hurt me.
Magical Thinking - the concept that you are perfect, incapable of mistakes, and control the destiny of a person, parish, community, or of all creation with your very existence or with your wise observations. Those engaging in magical thinking hear Jesus preaching the Beatitudes and say, "You know, Jesus got these ideas from me. I preached that sermon two months ago." Cf. the idea that we are perfect. We aren't. We all make mistakes. Admit them and go on. Trust us, no one is fooled. God and almost everyone else sees the strip of toilet paper clinging to your shoe.
The Seduction of Usefulness - (okay, we didn't originate this one. Bp. Sauls did. But we are stealing it). Magical Thinking's trashier cousin that seduces us into thinking we are so profound that our very presence, words, and ideas will save those in our care from themselves or whatever situation we deem them needing to be saved from. Or at least we will be highly useful as we fix their problematic situation. Also, the absence of the humility of failure. See people who hog the floor at meetings, diocesan conventions, or casual meals giving unsolicited advice or u.p.r.'s. Often the fodder for answers to the question: tell us of a ministerial success that you created, planned, and implemented of which even Jesus would be envious.
Terminal Originality - the idea that no one anywhere throughout any part of history has gone through or been faced with the circumstances that face you or that no organization or person in all of creation has just this particular talent or need. God reminds us to get over ourselves.
Eviction Notice - a spiritual practice of preparing a document to be signed by God that removes those who have hurt you, bullied you, or otherwise caused wounds from your interior castle. People do not get to live in your soul rent-free. See also forgiveness.
U.P.R. - unnecessary personal reflection. Sharing tales of your first-hand experiences with personal usefulness and/or magical thinking as moral high marks instead of encounters with the humility of failure.
Ju-ju - atmosphere surrounding a place or person. Good ju-ju gives light and joy. Bad ju-ju makes you want to eat cheap cat food and drink bourbon straight from the bottle.
Expectation - anticipatory disappointment.
Boundaries - holy awareness that we are not other people and that we do not live vicariously through other people. Protects from bad ju-ju and expectation.
Crazy Makers - people who have no boundaries but loads of expectations. And all of that rests on you. And it's all your fault when their expectations are not met. And they are hurt and disappointed and angry. And they will tell everyone else that. But not really tell you. Because you're supposed to fix it. But you aren't sure what it is. And they don't elaborate. Because you should just know. Feel crazy, yet?
Irony - the usual tone of Jesus's parables.
Imperfection - where God hides holiness (again, stealing from Richard Rohr). Here's the whole quote:
If there is such a thing as human perfection, it seems to emerge precisely from how we handle the imperfection that is everywhere, especially our own. What a clever place for God to hide holiness, so that only the humble and earnest will find it! A “perfect” person ends up being one who can consciously forgive and include imperfection rather than one who thinks he or she is totally above and beyond imperfection.
Humility of Failure - where God calls us to growth and awareness. The series of events where we are called to remember we are quite imperfect, we make mistakes, we make situations worse, and we fall short of our own expectations. And when God says, "You are still my beloved. Let's see how you messed this up. And let's see what's next." Syn. A big dose of Castor oil.
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