Snowy Days and Sundays Always Get Me Down

Here I sit in Your Nation's Capitol, safe and sound in my little townhouse with a warm laptop on my lap, a warm cat on my legs, and the all-news, all-traffic, all-weather, all-cancellations station on the radio (why, I don't know - I should switch to the all-classical-music station, now that t has been resurrected from the dead). I went to my home church this morning, about 9 miles away, because I was scheduled to do the Adult Forum on my trip to Qatar today. It was a scary ride there, because we are having a Weather Event (ice and snow). I left quite early, so I attended the 9 a.m. Eucharist and then did the Adult Forum. It was surprisingly well-attended given the weather. I wore a traditional djellabiya (similar to the one at right). An odd dissonance between wearing something from the land of sun and sand in the midst of a snowstorm. Folks asked good questions and seemed to appreciate the talk.

Then - home again. By then, the snow and ice was much scarier. I was driving PH's Volvo, which is usually quite good in winter weather, but it was still very slippery. Of course, people were not always driving sensibly. Accidents all over the place. I got to a half-mile from home, and there was a twenty-car pileup on the road. I managed to get around it and to the house. Thank you, Jesus! It was exhausting.

I had some lunch and sat down on the couch, where I promptly fell asleep. I've been very sleepy for the past week or so. I don't know what that's about - hopefully just the winter blahs - but I do need to get some studying and writing done, so I wish I could snap out of it.

PH is in the Windy City for his dad's big birthday party. He was supposed to fly back this afternoon but his flight was cancelled. Not rebooked until tomorrow afternoon. I miss him...

A Lovely Bit of News on Ash Wednesday

My paper on the January term in Qatar awaited me in my box this morning. My advising professor was quite pleased with my work, had some wonderful and thought-provoking comments on the paper, and suggested I condense it for submission to a scholarly journal. After the past three weeks of feeling like I'm just sort of doggy-paddling along with my nose above the water line, it was nice to get an attagirl saying I do good work. Maybe my whole head is up above the water line (at least for this week).

Thanks, Holy Spirit!

15 seconds of fame

This weekend was the Conference on Ministry at Big Old Seminary. A whole lotta folks from around the country and the world came to see if our place would be the right place for seminary for them. I was co-chair of the off-campus housing tours, which showed about 40 folks the usual options for those who for one reason or another don't want or can't live in dorms. All went well with our little fleet of volunteer drivers and tour guides...except for moi. Leaving our last stop, I got my car stuck on a hump of ice sitting on a speed bump. The two front tires were suspended in the air - no traction at all. Mortifying for someone who lived in New england for twenty-five years. I just didn't get enough momentum up in a car filled with people to get it up and over. Fortunately, a classmate ran my folks back to the seminary, and PH and the classmate then chipped the ice out from under my car and freed it. A little humiliation is good for the soul.

Last night we had our Variety Show...various and sundry acts, including a 10-year-old doing Seinfeld's Halloween bit impeccably, a two-year old dressed up in a band major's costume marching across the stage and then melting down, a movie about General Ordination Exams called "The End Times," and a couple of very funny skits. I sang a song about Hebrew class, to the tune of "If I Loved You," from the musical Carousel:

Aleph Beth Gimmel Dalt, He and Yod and Chet
Don't forget Vav but Mark insists it's waw.
Vocabulary lists are longer every week
Ayin aleph, kaph and qof, tet and taw.
Hebrew Studies! I don't think I'll get through BL102.

Hebrew Studies. Day after day I memorize all they want me to know.
Hebrew studies, strong dagesh, chain constructs, Hithpael, BDB is just hell.

I try to read aloud, afraid and shy.
I know the quiz is coming; Why oh why
Did I take it? Wouldn't the Greek have been much more fun?
Now I never will know. Hebrew Studies; Hebrew Studies.

Hebrew Studies. I conjugate verbs in a tongue No one speaks anymore.
Tense or aspect; chattering on 'bout poetic forms, I've become a Hebrew bore!

I want to exegete by reading verse In the original language - what is worse
Is, I love it. Hard as it is, I wouldn't trade Hours spent parsing those words.
I'm in love with Hebrew Studies.

No one threw rotten tomatoes or catcalled, so I guess I survived. Wasn't as difficult as getting the car off the ice.

Weather

I know that Oscar Wilde said that conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative, but here in Your Nation's Capital, we are in the midst of a highly unimaginative conversation. It beats the more imaginative but also more depressing conversation about politics and the war.

We got a wee bit of snow, maybe 1/4 to 1/2 inch, but now freezing rain and ice have been forecast for the evening and night, into tomorrow morning. The seminary, which NEVER closes (when most of the students and all the faculty are right on campus, why close?) has shut down. I don't know if we will have classes in the morning since there may be a good inch of ice on the roads.

A seminary classmate mentioned at lunch how, on a gray day like today, she just wanted to go home and take a nap. I must be very suggestible, because I came home with grand intentions of getting a lot of reading done, and I promptly fell asleep on the couch with one of my books open in my hands. Serves me right putting my feet up on the couch while reading.

PH is seeing clients downtown, and will have a nasty 8-mile commute home later this evening. He's an excellent driver, but I still worry.

I hate driving in bad weather, especially on ice. I'm glad I'm home, with a nice warm laptop computer and fuzzy slippers on my feet, and a pot of chili on the stove.

It's been a good week at school. I did well on my scary Hebrew quiz yesterday, and I think I also did well on the infamous OT map quiz this morning. Several papers are coming due fairly quickly, I'm doing a presentation at my home church about the trip to Qatar in two weeks, I'm doing a presentation on icons as a spiritual practice at RM's place in three weeks, and there are not enough hours in the day. This weekend is Big Old Seminary's Conference on Ministry. I'm co-chairing the Off-Campus Housing Tours, hosting a dinner for some of our guests, and doing two acts in the Talent Show.

I should be exhausted. I AM in fact exhausted. Why, then, am I so darned happy?

Friday Five: American Idol Version

1) If I could sing like anyone, it would be soprano Anna Netrebko.
2) I would love to sing Anne Truelove's "No Word from Tom" aria from Stravinsky's "The Rake's Progress," but that requires reliable high C's, and my days of reliable high C's ...well, they never were...Give me a B flat, however, and I'm your gal.
3) It would be really cool to sing at the Metropolitan Opera. Not La Scala. La Scala operagoers are too mean.
4) If I could sing a dream duet it would be with baritone Bryn Terfel. (sigh....)
5) If I could sing on a TV or radio show, it would be the Saturday afternoon Met broadcast.

Yes, yes, I'm an opera junkie. I admit that I am powerless over it.

Hat Tip: RM

Back in the Semi-real World

I've pretty much processed being back in the States, and being back in Eastern Standard Time.

Getting back into the rhythm of seminary life, however, is a different thing entirely.

True to form, our profs have assigned several hundred pages of reading for this week (yes, I know, it's only bad if I try to read it all). I've just come back from 24 hours away in the woods for the Junior Class retreat, so I'm feeling a compulsion to get a ton of reading done tonight.

Here's what I've learned.

1) Read the assigned Scripture. Make notes on the readings on a chapter-by-chapter basis.

2) Skim the other articles and see if anything leaps out. Otherwise, don't worry about them.

3) Start outlining written assignments as soon as I get them, knowing that the prof will undoubtedly give further guidance that will modify the outline later on in the game.

4) Do the work, but trust that the Holy spirit will descend at the appropriate time to fill in the gaps.

5) Know that this is not a measure of my worthiness for the priesthood, it is simply equipping myself for the work.

6) Pray.
I'm working to live into this.

The retreat was a wonderful break of thoughtful quiet time and fun friendship with my classmates. It was deep in the woods and I was crabby getting there, because it was so far away, but I was glad we had gone there this morning as we saw a pair of bald eagles looping above us on thermal drafts. Of course, the younger crew stayed up way late. I, being an old fart and a morning person, crashed a little after 10 p.m. Just as well, since then I could awaken at 5:30 and watch the sunrise over the Chesapeake Bay.

Good news on the various and sundry practica: I got accepted into my first choice for Clinical Pastoral Ed (chaplaincy training at a local hospital) as well as my first choice for Field Ed (working in a parish). Feels good to get those settled. I'll be doing CPE at the Children's Hospital in DC and Field Ed at a new church plant about 35 miles away.

I'm about a third of the way through my paper for the Qatar experience. It's going slower than I'd like, and I'm worried I'll get swamped by the other classes before it is done. I can tie myself into knots better than anyone I know...

And PH is downstairs crowing because his beloved Chicago Bears have returned the opening kickoff with a TD. It's going to be a long night (and that's before I start working on our taxes).

Time Zones

It's 5 a.m. I'm awake.

This is better than yesterday, when I was down at Diocesan Council and sharing a room with my dear buddy C. It was 3 a.m. when I woke up, wide awake and ready to rock and roll. I lay in bed planning out the required paper for the trip to Qatar (well, at least I got one great paragraph done in my head) until 6 a.m., when I got up, quietly showered and dressed, and went downstairs in search of breakfast.

We elected a bishop coadjutor. For those of us who love and support our present bishop, it was a bittersweet reminder that his work as diocesan bishop will be drawing to a close in a couple of years.

We also voted in favor of a trial period for parishes, if they so choose, to perform same-sex unions. It passed with little discussion, great calm, and quiet joy for those of us who have viewed this as a civil rights/justice issue.

The Archbishop of Auckland NZ, also head of the Anglican Consultative Council, was the chaplain and was a thoughtful and moving preacher.


At Council, I got to reconnect with a priest friend who had been in Qatar, and a number of my seminary classmates. When I got home, I went to school to see what awaited in my mailbox. I was surprised at how emotional it felt to be back home on the Holy Hill. Mirabile dictu, a number of exams and papers were there in my mailbox. Medium to good grades and thoughtful comments. Still no exegesis papers (turned in several months ago).

Then I got home and checked for reading lists, syllabi, etc. for my new classes that start tomorrow. Several hundred pages await me already. Gack.

I think I should go back to sleep now...

Home again

I got back to the USA after 22 hours in transit. Dinner in Qatar (delicious steak), midnight snack in Bahrain(so undistinguished I can't remember what it was), breakfast over London (awful airplane omelet), coffee in Heathrow(Costa coffee is much better than Starbucks as chain coffee houses go), lunch over the Atlantic (awful airplane penne bolognese), afternoon snack over Boston (awful airplane mystery sandwich), dinner back in VA with PH and StrongOpinions (pretty good BBQ pork). I'm not sure what species I am, much less what time zone I'm in, but I slept from 9 pm until now, so that's not bad. I am afraid, however, to step on the bathroom scale. I fear the number may be horrendous.

Suddenly going from an airport where the men are mostly in long white robes with scarves on their head and the women are mostly all covered up, to an airport with everyone mostly in jeans and various types of much more body-revealing clothing, is a shock to the system.

I'm off in a couple of hours to diocesan council (100 miles down the road), where I'll work as a teller. We are electing a bishop coadjutor, and we will have lots of talk, I would guess, about the Episcopal churches in the diocese who left and what we should do about property and such. Lively stuff.

I think I'll be able to stay awake.

I'll check back in with y'all on Sunday.

Doing the Religion Thing

I preached (see it in all its verbose glory below) on Friday morning, when Rishan was baptized (c'est moi at left with the wonderful baby and his parents, Dr. Suresh and Dr. Annu), and last night for the Sunday Evening Prayer Service.

Note to self: when preaching at a pulpit this high, wear high heels and make sure there is a riser to stand on.

Once every few weeks, the Sunday service is the prayer service rather than Eucharist. A lovely peaceful time. The congregation gave me a book about Qatar as a going-away present. They also made a number of kind comments about the sermon. A little scary preaching before I've had any formal homiletics training. Then again, fools rush in...







I've been blessed to be here and to have this experience. I still have a few more interviews to conduct (an excellent one today at lunch with an American couple who are quite insightful folks). How do I begin to put this experience down on paper?

I Know I'm Not At Home Because

..although a skating rink in a shopping mall with a kids' hockey practice going on is a little unusual,

seeing Arabic numerals on the backs of the kids' jerseys is not the norm.

Pedestrian crossings reflect the difference in common dress:

and Girl Scouts on a field trip look a little different:

but some things are the same no matter what the language on the sign.

Saying what we think people want to hear

It is a common belief amoung Westerners in the Arab world that often our hosts do not speak what they really think, but in the interest of hospitality say what they think we want to hear. I've seen it in action here and in conversation, but I find myself reflecting that it is true of Westerners as well.

Do we do it when we tell the preacher "Great sermon!" as we leave the church, when we thought it was a dud? Do we do it when we tell our children that the brownies they made were scrumptious when they were, in fact, little inedible bricks? Do we do it when we tell a friend of another religion that we're really theologically alike?

Where does friendship end if we speak truth as we see it? Is our truth in fact accurate? Does kindness or love require that we temper truth?

Or are we called to listen more than to speak?

Stranger in a Strange Land

My role is an odd one in this place. I'm not yet clergy, but I am performing some clerical tasks. I am not a resident, but I'm here long enough to be familiar with the ethos of the place, the challenges that the parishioners face, and the quirks of personality. I'm here long enough so I'm familiar enough - or unfamiliar enough - that parishioners unburden themselves when we do interviews for my research.

I guess I'm viewed as safe, for all sorts of reasons that may or may not be true.

As has been my experience at home, people talk to me. I have heard the phrase "I probably shouldn't be saying this" a number of times here, as I have back in the States in all sorts of contexts. It served me well as a lobbyist; it continues to serve me well today.

I suppose, then, that my mission here is to listen, and to be a trusted pair of ears for those who feel the need to vent, or to ask a hard question, or to try and work through all the changes that this parish faces in the coming months.

Some things here are very different. Nevertheless, some parish behavior is perfectly consistent with a growing church anywhere in the world facing a change of pastor after 20-plus years. I'm reminded once again of the universality of the human condition. Odd that it continues to surprise me.

These people will make it work. Not without some pain and misunderstandings, not without some losses, but they will make it work.

Being a stranger in a strange land has sharpened my senses and made me a better listener and observer. I hope it has also made me better at offering ideas and comfort, but that's a very minor part of the equation. I hope, too, that when I get back to my familiar surroundings, the clarity of perception doesn't fade entirely.

Sermon for this weekend (this post is a bit long).

Sermon for Friday, 19 January 2007 and Sunday, 21 January 2007

“Who Am I?”

1 Cor 12: 12-14, 27-30
Luke 4: 14-21

Who am I?

It’s a question we all ask ourselves.

Teenagers, in particular, seem to focus on this question. Where should I go to university? What should I study? What am I meant to do with my life?

Who am I?

My daughter has changed majors in college twice already, and is still considering adding minor courses of study to the mix. My older son has changed from film production to screenwriting, and I suspect that once he graduates from college this year, his life will twist and turn and he will redefine himself once again. My niece Hannah has pondered five different majors in her first semester.

Some of us revisit the question later in life. Perhaps seeking the answer to that question is what brought you to Qatar. Perhaps you hadn’t even thought of the question until you found yourself here. It’s true that a mid-life question brought me to this place. I left a career in business and government after more than 25 years to study at seminary in preparation for ordination to the priesthood.

It’s easiest to think of this question within the context of work. All of the examples I’ve just mentioned have to do with career choices of one sort or another. What I’d like us to think about today, though, is how we face this question as Christians, as members of the Body of Christ, as members of this church.

It’s a question that’s repeated over and over again in both the Old Testament and the New.

So it’s not just a question of the 21st Century, this pondering of our basic identity. It intrigues us, challenges us, sometimes haunts us.

Contrast the troublesome nature of the question, then, with Jesus in our gospel reading this morning. In Luke’s gospel, this story is in the early days of Jesus’ ministry. He’s just come back in from forty days in the desert and a duel of wills with Satan. He’s begun to teach in the synagogues in the Galilee, and word of the power of his teaching is beginning to spread. So he comes home to Nazareth, and as is the custom, he’s invited to read the Scripture and to preach on it.

What was it like to be in the synagogue that day?

Here he comes into the synagogue, a local boy, the son of Joseph the carpenter. We watched him growing up. We’ve heard that he’s developed quite the reputation.

He stands, reads the Scripture. It’s a powerful text from the prophet Isaiah

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Familiar words to us; we’ve heard them before. What will he say when he preaches on them?

He sits down, as we expect, for the time of teaching. He says “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

That’s all. He’s just said “It’s me. I’m the one Isaiah is talking about.”

We’re shocked. We’re excited, because we’ve been waiting for a Messiah, an anointed one, for a long time and through a lot of trouble. We’re a bit proud that it’s one of our own. We’re doubtful that it could be one of our own. And yet he seems so utterly sure, so completely convinced and convincing.

He isn’t asking that hard question of Who am I? He’s absolutely unambiguously telling us that He is the fulfillment of the prophecy. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be so clear on who we are?

Very few of us are ever that clear about our own identity.

That’s true of Roshan, who was baptized this morning. We look into his beautiful eyes and wonder what he will be like, the person he will become as he grows in the loving embrace of his mother and father and as a part of this, his church family. All we know is that he will be unique, and in his uniqueness are the gifts that he will bring to life in the world and as a Christian.

Who am I?

That’s certainly the problem for some of the members of the church at Corinth, a church of primarily Gentile membership that Saint Paul founded. They are worried about all sorts of things and have sent Paul a letter asking for guidance. As Father Ian told us last week, some people have been misbehaving, and some have been trying to establish a pecking order of who’s more spiritual than the other.

That never happens in churches today does it? Of course it does. So how does Paul address the issue? Just as Jesus taught by painting a picture through parables, Paul paints a picture for the Corinthians, using a metaphor, that of the human body. He says, “Listen, you’ve all been given gifts, talents, from God. They’re all different. They’re all important. This is not a competition about which gift is the best. They’re all the best, because they all come from God, and you’d best set about using them to do God’s work.”

He talks about the human body, how it is made up of different parts, how each part, even the lowliest, has an important function that the other parts rely upon. One can’t exist without the other. Then he takes that metaphor one step further, and speaks of each of us as a part of the body…the Body of Christ. For the human body to function at its best, all parts have to function well. For the Body of Christ to function at its best, all of its members, with all of their varied gifts, have to be honored as well as put to good use. One part of the human body is no more important than another. One person’s gifts are no important than another as we live in Christian community. All these gifts are important, to our life and Christ and to each other. None can be dismissed.

So it is not only in Corinth, but here at the Church of the Epiphany in Doha. I have been here this month working with Father Ian and visiting with you all to help understand how a community of members from so many different nations, and so many traditions, become a family of faith and nurture each other and support each other. I’d be foolish if I didn’t recognize that a large part of it is Father Ian, who has served as pastor, friend, teacher and advocate for so many of us. But it is also you. It is you who do the music and you who serve as acolytes. It is you who bring blankets out to the work camps and you who bring food for after Friday morning services. It is you who lay out the fair linens and you who reach out a hand to someone who is sick in hospital. It is you who smiles at the person who is occasionally unlovable and you who reads the Lessons. It is you who sweeps up and you who puts things away. It is you who preaches and it is you who works in the crèche. All your gifts, given to you by God, are put to good use for the work of God’s people in this place.

So this is the lesson I have learned here, so far away from home, the answer to that question; “Who am I?” I am, we all are, members of the Body of Christ. We are all the recipients of gifts, of talents, from God, who has given these gifts out of love for us. We all have something to offer another, and our Lord wants us to freely offer that which we have been given.

This community, even when Father Ian moves on to the next phase of his life, will still be a community of people with a myriad of gifts. And you are called, as you have always been called, to use those gifts to support and love and nurture each other as members of the Body of Christ.

Who are you? You are unique, with gifts given to you by God. You are a part of a community of faith here in Doha, and you are part of a much larger community of faith wherever you go in the world. You have been transformed by these gifts, and by the way you put them to good use. Your gifts will strengthen the community of faith and the world, if you dare to use them. Be strong. Be brave. Know that the Lord is always with you. And never forget, you are beloved members of The Body of Christ.

Cultural Dissonance Pt III

Not my own picture, but the person who gave it to me swears it isn't just something that was PhotoShopped!
It would have to be a pretty young camel, though...and those are not Qatar license plates...hmmm...

Cultural Dissonance Pt. II

At the International Islamic Bank, there is a men's branch and a separate ladies' branch right alongside it.

The dean of the Shari'a department at Qatar University may be a woman, the wife of the Emir may be the driving force behind the Education City initiative, the Director of the gazillion-rial new Museum of Islamic Art may be a woman, but there is still a separate ladies' branch at the bank.

Some women say that having a separate ladies' branch, or floor at the mall, or other such facility, gives them a way to conduct their business without being bothered by men, and they can remove their face scarf without the possibility of molestation. It still feels (in my Western mind) a tad odd to me.

I guess I haven't been here long enough...

Cultural Dissonance

...an Iraqi assistant to the producer at Al Jazeera, wearing an Icehouse Brewery t-shirt in this Muslim country where alcohol is forbidden.

Museum of Islamic Art

This museum is in progress. It is expected to be completed by the end of this year. A $15 Billion project, it was designed by I.M. Pei and is enormous. We had the privilege of visiting it even though it's under construction. These pictures will give you an idea of the size and magnificence of the space.

The woman standing in the center of the picture of the exterior is the Executive Director of the Museum, Dr. Saidegh. She is from Tunisia.

This is the main staircase from the ground level up to the first gallery level (there are five levels). Across from the staircase, facing the bay, is a wall of glass extending up the five levels. There is a fountain which echoes the traditional ablutions fountain in a mosque in the shape of the star of Islam, with eight points.

Here we look up 60 meters to the top of the dome. Like Brunelleschi's Dome in the Duomo in Florence, it essentially supports the whole structure. It is the equivalent of the keystone in an arch. Before the dome and window were inserted, there was a steel infrastructure to prevent the building from collapsing in on itself.

Looking down from the fifth level. Definitely a work in progress. When work was most intense, there were 1500 laborers onsite.

A courtyard between the main museum and the education wing. There will be pools of water and fountains here.

This open gallery leads to the education wing. It reminds me of Cordoba.

At Qatar University's College of Shari'a and at the Georgetown Univ School of Foreign Service at Education City

We visited the Shari'a school, which is the theological college in Doha, and met with the dean and a number of professors, as well as a student representative. Interestingly, the dean is a woman, the first female to hold such a post in the Arab world. QU hosts the annual interfaith dialgue conference, which will have its fifth meeting in April. For the past two years, Jews have also been a part of the dialogue, a remarkable thing and a risky one in this part of the world. We are looking at ways to partner with them in the States and perhaps the UK.


The dean, Dr Aisha, is sitting in the middle with the white skirt. The woman sitting to her left is the head of what would be the equivalent of the systematic theology department at QU. What I wouldn't give to bring these two women to the US to speak to our seminary!


Then we met with one of the profs, an American Jesuit priest, and a number of sophomore students (3 women, two men) at Georgetown's School of Foriegn Service. The women were Qatari Muslims. One of the men was a Christian from Lebanon, the other was a Muslim from Bosnia. The women were very progressive in their outlook; they see themselves as the future political movers and shakers of the country. Although they wear headscarves and abaya, their abayas were open from the waist down and we could see their (designer) jeans and their (Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo) shoes. The guys were a tad more conservative, but as Fr. Ryan from Georgetown said, the students really self-select to apply to this school; you are going to see the kids who were brought up with a British style education (the girls were in an IB program at Qatar Academy) and who are the most progressive in their viewpoints applying to a school like this. They seemed very bright and mature beyond their years. I hope the government will take advantage of their training and intelligence.

Just another one of the amazing adventures of the last few days.

At Al Jazeera

One of the group of visiting clergy, Bill Sachs of the Center for Reconciliation and Mission, was interviewed on Al Jazeera (the Arabic station, not the English one) on the group's trip and their work on building Christian-Muslim dialogue. Some of the questions were somewhat political in nature, but it wasn't bad. And getting the message out to Al Jazeera's 42 million Arabic-speaking viewers that Christians don't think of Muslims as "the enemy" was a good thing.

Meeting with Imams at the American Ambassador's Residence

Chase Untermeyer, the American Ambassador, and his wife Diana couldn't have been more gracious, and the embassy staff was wonderful making arrangements for many of our activities. We went to the ambassador's residence and had a fascinating and frank discussion about Christian/Muslim dialogue with some imams. The British Ambassador, Simon Collis, was also in attendance. A common theme was the need for face-to-face interaction; when we meet and talk as human beings together, the conversation is very different. We need to learn more about each other's religion and culture.