Thealogical Lady: A Blog

Living Lent: Touches of Spring

3/21/2014

Although I am weary from my Lenten penances, my senses are sharper. When my daughter touches my arm in the early morning so she can crawl under the covers next to me, I notice and make way, helping her settle into the crook of my arm. When my hubby rolls closer to me in the stirrings before the morning alarm, I move my chilly feet closer to his feet, and he offers wordless warmth. When my 9-month old sits up in her crib next to my bed and begins to play with quiet joy, I'm grateful that no one will need to shush anyone this morning, and I slide out of bed, pick her up, and hold her close as we walk out to begin the rest of the day.

This Lenten emptiness has transformed into the spaciousness I crave so often. By letting go, I have embraced something unexpected: ample, uncluttered room in which to attend to the graces of my daily life. What further graces will I encounter this Lent from the effects of my Lenten penances?

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Living Lent: Ash Wednesday and Prayer

3/5/2014

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After indulging in Shrove Tuesday pancakes and Mardis Gras beads, we enter the first day of Lent: Ash Wednesday. Millions will travel to churches today to be marked with the ash of last Palm Sunday's palm fronds, marking a stark entrance into the liturgical season of abstinence, repentance, and alms-giving.

During this season of Lent, I would like to offer you my prayers. If you feel so moved, please leave a comment here asking for a particular kind of prayer. I will light a candle at the St. James Chapel of St. Augustine Church in honor of each prayer request I receive. I invite you, in return, to offer a prayer for someone else, lighting a candle of your own. Perhaps, by the Easter Vigil, our candle-lit prayers will have illumined the whole world.

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An Open Letter to Those against Whom I Have Sinned: Advent, Week 4, Monday

12/23/2013

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December 23

O Emmanuel, Rex et Legifer noster, expectatio gentium and salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos, Domine Deus Noster!

O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, expectation of the nations and their savior: come to save us, Lord our God!

To those against whom I have sinned,

There's no easy way for me to say this, so let me start with the most important part:

I am sorry.

I have done you wrong, and I am sorry.

I have hurt you, and I am sorry.

For every time I had an advantage over you and used it to your disadvantage, I'm sorry.

For every time I threw you into a crisis of self-doubt and self-hatred, I'm sorry.

For every time I shouted at you, called you names, slandered you behind your back, excluded you, ridiculed you, and broke your heart, I'm sorry.

For every time I chose my own interest at your expense and obfuscated the truth, I'm sorry.

For every time I physically, mentally, verbally, and spiritually harmed you, I'm sorry.

For every time I tried to come between you and the ones you loved, I'm sorry.

For every time I chose the lazy way at your expense, I'm sorry.

For every time my words or actions invited you to act or speak in ways you regret, I'm sorry.

For every time I spoke or acted in any unkind, uncharitable, unloving way, I'm sorry.

For these words that will probably never reach you, I'm sorry.

For these words that you probably wouldn't believe anyway, I'm sorry.

For every wrong that I have forgotten, I'm sorry.

For everything I do in the future to convince you that I'm still as stony-hearted as ever, I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

All I have left to offer you is my open hands, waiting in emptiness to receive your undeserved forgiveness.

With broken love,
Kate

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International Women's Day

3/8/2013

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March 8 is International Women's Day.

Did you know that this holiday was originally celebrated as National Women's Day, established by the Socialist Party of America in 1909? Did you know that 15,000 women marched in New York City the year before to demand the right to vote, shorter hours, and better pay? Did you know that Clara Zetkin, the leader of the Social Democratic Party (SDP) in Germany brought about the idea of an International Women's Day in 1910?

I didn't. I didn't even remember this morning that today was International Women's Day--not until I saw a post from a former student colleague of mine who's finishing her doctoral dissertation in systematic theology.

In 1909, there was no such thing as a female rabbi--in 2013, I'm the assistant for one.

Alas, in 2013, a Roman Catholic woman is still regarded Thomistically as only partly human--and this idea manifests itself, among other ways, in the persistent refusal of the upper echelons of the Roman Catholic hierarchy even to talk about the possibility of ordaining women to ministry.

This is the form of sexist oppression I personally face each day. And to think that I'm one of the fortunate ones! Indeed, I'm a citizen of one of the most privileged countries in the world. As a woman with pale skin, my privilege increases even more. I've got it good.

And yet--I don't. Women don't. Women with dark pigmentation don't. Women who have male genitals (i.e. trans-women) definitely don't. Even in this supposedly great nation, we are underpaid, undervalued, underemployed, under-respected. Under. Supine. It's sinful, and it's far worse in other parts of the world.

Clara Zetkin said that this day would be a day for women to name their demands. Here are mine, on behalf of my sister women, my daughters, and their daughters:

~I demand, first and foremost, that women be treated equally to men in religious contexts.

~I demand that women be treated equally to men in the workplace.

~I demand that the voices of women be heard first when societal policies that impact women are being discussed.

~I demand that all women, especially those most marginalized, be treated with honor and respect by all men and privileged women.

~I demand that all those who experience privilege on a daily basis, from white men in power to men of any color to women who are wealthy and educated, examine their daily actions for the ways in which they participate in and promote the systematic oppression of women, and that having recognized their wrongdoing, they change their ways and make amends.

I pray that I will be able to see the ways in which I have participated in this oppression so I may begin to remedy it. In the meantime, I speak out with the power of my voice, knowing that when I speak, people listen.

Finally, I thank all the women before me who spoke up so that my voice could be amplified. Sister women, you have done so, so well. Thank you.

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The Pope resigns

2/11/2013

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Here I thought this morning's chatter would be about the latest episode of Downton Abbey. Instead the first thing that popped up on one of my social network feeds was a joke about being asked by the pope to be his replacement. All my East Coast friends and news sources were way ahead of me.

Someone reposted this announcement from Pope Benedict:

Dear Brothers,

I have convoked you to this Consistory, not only for the three canonizations, but also to communicate to you a decision of great importance for the life of the Church. After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God, I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age, are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry. I am well aware that this ministry, due to its essential spiritual nature, must be carried out not only with words and deeds, but no less with prayer and suffering. However, in today’s world, subject to so many rapid changes and shaken by questions of deep relevance for the life of faith, in order to govern the bark of Saint Peter and proclaim the Gospel, both strength of mind and body are necessary, strength which in the last few months, has deteriorated in me to the extent that I have had to recognize my incapacity to adequately fulfill the ministry entrusted to me. For this reason, and well aware of the seriousness of this act, with full freedom I declare that I renounce the ministry of Bishop of Rome, Successor of Saint Peter, entrusted to me by the Cardinals on 19 April 2005, in such a way, that as from 28 February 2013, at 20:00 hours, the See of Rome, the See of Saint Peter, will be vacant and a Conclave to elect the new Supreme Pontiff will have to be convoked by those whose competence it is.

Dear Brothers, I thank you most sincerely for all the love and work with which you have supported me in my ministry and I ask pardon for all my defects. And now, let us entrust the Holy Church to the care of Our Supreme Pastor, Our Lord Jesus Christ, and implore his holy Mother Mary, so that she may assist the Cardinal Fathers with her maternal solicitude, in electing a new Supreme Pontiff. With regard to myself, I wish to also devotedly serve the Holy Church of God in the future through a life dedicated to prayer.

From the Vatican, 10 February 2013

BENEDICTUS PP XVI

I am surprised by this turn of events. The last pope to resign did so in the Middle Ages. I remember the end of Pope John-Paul's reign, in which he was obviously too sick to offer any leadership whatsoever, but apparently too proud (or something) to do the appropriate thing and resign.

When Benedict was elected pope, I shuddered. I expected awful things. And yes, his silencing of the entire RC Church on the subject of women's ordination, among other things, was awful. But I've also been surprised by Benedict's capacity to show generosity, wisdom, and rootedness in a Savior other than himself. His first encyclical knocked me off my feet (in a good way). I still have a copy on my bookshelf.

For the last few days I've been pondering what to embrace as my Lenten observance. Perhaps I shall simply pray for those things that led the Pope to this decision--for wisdom, for humility, and for the ability to do a (relatively) new thing in the face of long-standing tradition.

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Living Lent: Tripping Up

2/23/2012

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It's the day after Ash Wednesday and I'm already tripping up.

So I walked down the hill this morning toward the bus stop around 11:04. The bus comes around 11:16, gets me to the train station around 11:22, giving me about ten minutes to get through the BART turnstile and up the escalator before I wait for my train for seven minutes. That train takes half an hour, then my walk takes about eight minutes. If I catch the 11:16 bus, I get to work fifty minutes early, which is enough time to walk to the coffee shop for a leisurely sip and nibble for lunch if I'm so inclined. If I catch the 12:16 bus, I get to work ten minutes late.

I dunno about you, but I hate being late.

So, naturally, I missed the bus. My automated transit cards--both of them--are both gone haywire, and without them my only option for the bus is to pay cash. I don't carry cash. Which means I got halfway down the hill only to realize that, two minutes away from my destination, I wasn't going to have what it took to board that bus.

I had to turn around.

And I HATED it.

I got so mad I could have wrung someone's neck. My head filled instantly with all the things that had already gone wrong this morning, this week, this month, and this year. I cursed as I wheeled the stroller around and puffed back up the hill. It just wasn't fair to go through my whole morning rigamarole just to find out I was going to get a look from my boss when I got in.

(Even more than being late, I hate receiving the disapproval of others over anything I could have prevented.)

I opted to take a different bus, one that comes just late enough to put me at work fifteen minutes before I normally arrive (and forty-five minutes after I had planned to be there to hand off the baby to her sitter). I texted the baby's sitter from my dining room table, apologized profusely, and set out again a few minutes later to wait for bus number two.

Then something happened that really took the cake.

I couldn't stay mad.

I wanted to stay mad, to bask in my fury, but I couldn't. My fellow creatures--trees, wind, flowers, vista, sun, birds, even mud conspired to grab my attention and elicit a spark of joy. It worked.

On the BART train, a lovely older woman in an electric wheelchair smiled the rest of my chilliness away, sweet-talking the baby and me as we rode along. I exited the train laughing.

When I arrived at work, my sitter approached me cautiously. "Bad day, huh?"

I wondered what she was talking about. "Oh...yeah. But things got better on our way over."

That sums up Lent for me.

How about you? How would you sum up your experience of Lent, or any other time of year?

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Living Lent: Ash Wednesday

2/23/2012

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Tonight we are marked with ash, the symbol of our coming from and returning to dust. Repent, and believe in the gospel. My pastor in Oakland used those words as he marked my 16-month-old daughter's forehead, then said to me, "Isn't it funny to say this to someone like her?"

I smiled. Yeah, it's pretty hilarious to make a command to anyone under two, as if there's the remotest chance that they might listen. I mean, really?

But on the other hand, no--it's quite serious, and rather radical. She's a catechumen, after all--she has been since she was two months old. And that makes her a part of this journeying community. She belongs. And repenting is both her right and her vocation for as long as she lives and breathes.

You know how sometimes a phrase will stick with you when you hear it at just the right moment? Tonight, at the start of the Ash Wednesday liturgy, the pastoral associate spoke of the tender mercy of God. Tender. Yes. Yes, that's right. God is tender when we turn toward Her, empty-handed. God grasps our hands tenderly, firmly, asking to behold us. God is lover, friend, ally, and truth-teller. God is healer. God is...

Well, God is good. All the time.

And we always get to turn back, because God always wants us back.

God always wants us back.

I dunno about you, but that really sums up the whole Christian gig for me.

And I suppose that's why Lent's my favorite liturgical season.

Keep an eye out for more Lenten blog posts--I hope to make these a daily occurrence.

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Living Lent: Touches of Spring

Living Lent: Ash Wednesday and Prayer

An Open Letter to Those against Whom I Have Sinned: Advent, Week 4, Monday

International Women's Day

The Pope resigns

Living Lent: Tripping Up

Living Lent: Ash Wednesday

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