Potluck

If you can handle the heights, this video is amazing, but I had to grip my chair to watch it.

Originally built in 1901, this walkway now serves as an approach to Makinodromo, the famous climbing sector of El Chorro, in Andalusia, Spain.

Tags: travel, video

It’s a horrible word and a horrific act. Rape is violence, without a doubt, and yet it is confusing to those of us who have never had to deal with it or its after effects. Confusing because the violence is sexual in nature and, in my mind anyway, violence and sex are polar opposites.

To my knowledge no one close to me has ever experienced such violence. But clearly a large percentage of rapes are never officially reported or prosecuted, so I’m sure that a large percentage are never told. Survivors who speak of their experiences do so with great courage and emotional strength. There are issues of “fault” and “blame” and “shame” that quell the telling. There are men who are abused as well as women. There are family members who perpetrate crimes on family members. Such things are hard to speak of.

Sunday’s Plain Dealer had a special section (now online) which detailed the rape of a Cleveland woman–a reporter, in fact, who tells her own story. I saw the section in the Sunday paper and set it aside to read later, but not really sure if I’d get around to it or not.

On Tuesday I picked it up. Author/survivor Joanna Connors walked me through the thoughts, the fears, and the pain of her own experience while exploring the life of her attacker as well. The writing is compelling. The sharing is an outpouring of the trauma and fears and hopes of this gifted writer and survivor. The photos helped share the story too, in a way that aided the story without being too graphic in themselves. It’s a story I would commend to your reading.

That night, I went to the first rehearsal for “Sing Out! For the Rape Crisis Center”. It’s a fundraising event, a concert of Cleveland area leaders who form a choir for one sell-out performance. I’m in it because a church member invited me, and I thought “eh…why not?” But, having read the first hand story of brutality and survivorship, I now think of it as a very good way to make a difference.

It felt good to use my voice to offer songs of hope on behalf of those who may feel little hope. The concert will raise a lot of money for the Cleveland Rape Crisis Center which uses the funds to provide free care and counseling to those in need. Fourteen thousand persons were served last year; two thousand more than the year before. There’s a lot of pain out there, and it is pain that lasts for a lifetime. Somebody’s got to give voice to hope. I’m glad I can help in a small way.

The singer across the pew from me was Joanna Connors, using her own voice in new ways to offer hope for others.

[photo via Cleveland.com]

There’s a blog I’ve recently discovered that really fascinates me. One Sentence is a collection of true stories told in, yes, only one sentence. We never know the fuller context–and that’s part of the appeal, I guess. Some of them are captivating and make my mind wander to what might have happened either before or after. But each of them is a little slice of life contained in a few words. Check it out and let me know what you think.

Find it in my blogroll on my blog’s main page or at www.onesentence.org

It’s nickname was an advertising slogan to entice visitors in the 1930s, but New Orleans is a “city that care forgot” in more ways than one. I’m home for a few days to visit with family, and had a couple of hours in the French Quarter to walk and take in the sights. There are plenty. Despite its scrappy personality, New Orleans is a city of great charm, amazing food, quirky history, and unique architecture.

Tags: New Orleans, voodoo

At my friend’s church, the worship leader gives a message each Sunday, backed up by a message outline in the worship folder and cool graphics projected on large screens. The whole event is captured on video so you can sit in the back of the 3,000 seat auditorium and still feel like part of it all.

Some people may wonder if an ordinary, old sermon in an ordinary, old church is relevant anymore. Some days I wonder too. Pastor Bob Hyatt talks about the sermon in a blog post that lays it bare.

Yes- At its worst, a sermon is dull, boring, impractical and just plain painful to sit through. I’ve sat through enough boring sermons to know. And here’s an insight- preaching a boring sermon is no picnic either. Trust me… we know when we are fouling one off.

But here’s the thing: At its best? It moves us, it’s used by God to change and rearrange us, and if I understand it correctly, that’s worship.

Read the full post here.

[via bob.blog]

[image link]

Tags: church, faith, sermon

…these late winter snows. But glancing out my office window yesterday, I was shocked—shocked, I tell you—to see big, fat, heavy flakes coming down. It was snowing like crazy for most of the afternoon and evening. The trees in the park and around the church looked like they’d been dunked in the same white icing stuff that Frosted Mini Wheats are dunked in. Why should I be shocked, having lived in this climate for a dozen years now?

Perhaps it’s all the talk I’ve been hearing from those who are going south for a spring break or “business” in the coming weeks. I have a trip to Louisiana to look forward to, but it’s just far enough beyond reach to not let my mind linger there just yet. So, like many others from northern Ohio, I, too, will abandon ship in search of early spring sunshine. I hope I can remember what it looks like.

As I was driving home tonight, a dense fog began to settle over fields at the edge of town. The seagulls weren’t pleased, but it looked like a good photo opportunity.

Other foggy pics at my Flickr page.

[via The Ongoing Adventures of ASBO Jesus]

Click the picture to enlarge.

Pastor Thom Shuman, a Presbyterian from Cincinnati, writes beautifully in response to this question:

“Is it inappropriate to ask for prayers for my kitty?” the email read.

At one point in my ministerial life, I probably would have answered in the affirmative. After all (I thought back then), God has too many things to worry about - important things like human suffering, like wars, like poverty, like hunger. All those abstract sorts of things that we convince ourselves are the sole focus God and God’s interests.

But I’ve traveled too many miles down that road called discipleship, I’ve spent too many hours reading that strange book called the Bible, I’ve had Jesus by my side too long with all his stories, his comments, his whispers in my ears to think that way any more…

See his complete post here.

[via Occasional Sightings of the Gospel]

Teachers and students huddled around TV sets in the early morning hours the past two days, hoping and praying their school system had called a snow day. For Olmsted Falls schools, there were two in a row. The church office follows school closings, so we’ve had a break too. It looks like there was about 14 inches of snow piled in my driveway over the past 24 hours.

I pulled on some jeans, thick socks, and boots and carried the garbage out to the curb this morning while the snow was still fresh and clean and the sounds of the world seemed muffled into a blessed hush. I hate to even leave footprints in that pure whiteness that blankets the world like a fluffy down comforter. Everything looks different and new and pure. Of course, I destroyed the mood and the neighborhood silence when I used my cantankerous old snowblower to clear the drive and sidewalks and then scraped the front porch with a shovel.

There’s something about a snow day that tells me to build a fire in the fireplace, make a pot of tea, and settle in. Then, after I’ve read the morning paper and checked email, it gets boring and I’m ready to pull on the boots again and go for a walk. I love the beauty of snow frosting the evergreens in my neighborhood.

The U.S. Government, through FEMA, admitted this week that the travel trailers in which they housed thousands (millions?) who lost homes during Hurricanes Katrina and Rita are toxic with formaldehyde. People who have lived in them–even for short periods of time–have become sick. We’ve known this for quite a while. It’s a story I’ve watched for almost two years since the first tests were conducted.

Formaldehyde is used in industrial applications, as well as for embalming by the funeral industry. It firms up flesh. Perhaps for the same reason, it is used in small amounts in some makeup. It adds positive qualities to some medicines and helps stabilize other chemicals. It is used as a disinfectant. It’s found in small amounts in every home due to the building materials used, such as carpeting, insulation, and plywood.

Formaldehyde, according to FEMA, is present in harmful quantities inside many of the FEMA trailers. The travel trailers were meant to be a short term solution for a major disaster. FEMA ordered hundreds of thousands of them to be built immediately after the storms. In some areas of New Orleans, “cities” of the trailers still exist as housing for the poor; in total, 38,000 families are still living in them.

My parents, spending time with me for Christmas of 2005 after losing their home in Katrina, received a phone call from a former neighbor who informed them that FEMA had parked a travel trailer in my parents’ front yard. They had neither requested one nor given permission for one to be placed there. But since it was there, they decided to make it a temporary home while deciding where they would relocate. They lived in the FEMA trailer for almost 6 months until they found a newly restored home to purchase.

Test results released by FEMA on February 14, 2008 showed formaldehyde levels in the trailers 5 to 40 times what is found in the average home. At the higher levels, the Centers for Disease Control says, there is concern for respiratory illness and long-term health effects. Formaldehyde is carcenogenic.

In the months following the hurricanes, people living in these trailers were becoming sick. Some began to notice nosebleeds, headaches, allergic reactions and more. Many of these people–unlike my parents–had nowhere to go. Many thousands had lost their homes with little or no insurance protection, yet still owed large sums on mortgages on the homes that no longer exist. They could not–can not–afford another home with a mortgage.  Public housing was largely destroyed and little has reopened. Though Congress appropriated funds, the state and federal governments failed in their efforts of delivering those financial resources, even to those who applied and were approved. The system simply fell apart.

Katrina hit in August, 2005. Trailers were built and moved into the Gulf Coast region in huge numbers that fall. Shortly after, health problems were being reported. Testing was begun. Now, two and a half years later, FEMA is releasing its report and urging travel trailer residents to live elsewhere. Where that will be is anyone’s guess.

When I was young, my aunt took family pictures with her special camera. Polaroid cameras provided an instant picture. Pop a flashbulb on top, look through the little viewfinder, and push the button. No focusing, no finishing the roll, no waiting for developing at the drug store. She snapped the picture and we watched the results spit out as the camera made a winding, grinding noise. My aunt would then grab the output so we kids wouldn’t spoil the picture with fingerprints. We gathered around her as she waved the stiff paper in the air, waiting for it to finish it’s own self-developing. Within a minute, we had a classic family photo.

At first, they were black and white, of course. With the black and white ones, she had to roll a waxy stick over the photo to protect it. Color came a few years later, though the colors on the photos were rather dull with a yellow cast. Polaroid improved the product over the years, and for the past decade the output was quite good. Not fast, but good. The advent of inexpensive digital cameras meant that pictures were even cheaper and faster, leaving the “instant” Polaroid photos in the dust.

On Flickr and other photo sites, Polaroid still has a certain edgy, modern following. But now the Polaroid company has announced that they will discontinue making instant film for the cameras they quit making last year.

The next generation may never know the joy of watching one’s favorite aunt take an instant photo that will embarrass you forever.

I’ve never really understood the standoff between conservative Christian faith and science. I have no problem reconciling my faith with the findings that science brings; in fact, I see them as mutually helpful. Where science tells me how things work, faith tells me why. God is behind creation and within it, in an on-going relationship. The Bible’s purpose in telling us the creation story is to remind us who initiated the process and why God created–out of love for us and the world that God made. This week’s lectionary Gospel lesson in John 3:16 affirms that, indeed, “…God so loved the world….”

So where does science fit in? Our best science is rational, empirical, and well-thought-out. If faith is the work of the heart and soul, science is a fitting use for the human brain and God-given wisdom. And Jesus told us to love God with heart, soul, mind and strength. Christians need to reclaim the mind part of loving God. Faith and science are good neighbors. There’s no need for barbed-wire fences between them.

The United Church of Christ’s General Minister and President John Thomas has released a Pastoral Letter this week.  It’s a statement of faith that addresses the complexities of technology and theology, suggesting that the two can be complementary.

In an introduction to the Pastoral Letter, Thomas quotes Barbara Brown Taylor, an excellent preacher and writer, from her book “The Luminous Web”:

In Sunday School I learned to think of God as a very old white-bearded man on a throne, who stood above creation and occasionally stirred it with a stick. When I am dreaming quantum dreams, what I see is an infinite web of relationship, flung across the vastness of space like a luminous net. It is made of energy, not thread. As I look, I can see light moving through it as a pulse moves through veins. What I see “out there” is no different from what I feel inside. There is a living hum that might be coming from my neurons but might just as well be coming from the furnace of the stars. When I look up at them there is a small commotion in my bones, as the ashes of dead starts that house my marrow rise up like metal filings toward the magnet of their living kin.

Reverend Thomas goes on to say

Indeed, science, far from threatening our faith, can make God even more exciting for us. I pray that the Pastoral Letter will open up a new dialogue between faith and science, encouraging our deep respect for scientists while opening our faith to provocative questions and discoveries that can only enrich us.

You can download or read the Pastoral Letter from the ucc.org website here.

This is a visualization of cross references within the Christian scriptures. It began as a study of Bible passages that refer to other passages, and was developed in a graphical way that has its own sense of majesty and beauty.

From the website:

Due to the extremely high number of cross-references, this lands more on the aesthetic side of the information visualization spectrum. Different colors are used for various arc lengths, creating a rainbow like effect. The bar graph running along the bottom shows every chapter in the Bible and their respective lengths (in verses). Books alternate in color between white and light gray.

[BibleViz via The Daily Dish]

Gordon Atkinson is a wonderful author, preacher, and blogger. His essay, “Olives, Wineskins, White Bread, & Jesus” is a marvelous piece of writing. There is a bit of earthy language here, but don’t let that throw you. It’s a divine message.

[via Real Live Preacher]