CLM 1.2 Experiences of the Sacred

The homework from session one of Creating a Life that Matters included using a Post-It note to make an image or choose a word representing your first experience of the sacred. I took photos of the notes and made a slide show out of them. They're all really cool.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

CLM 1.1 Bring Many Names

Our first Creating a Life that Matters class was last night. It was a rousing success, from my viewpoint. Everyone actively participated, and I felt energized, even though I'm coming down with a cold.

One of the interesting exercises each table group did was to re-write the song I Will Change Your Name. The original song is written as if God were speaking to us. Here are the lyrics:

I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called
Wounded, Outcast, Lonely, or Afraid.

I will change your name.
Your new name shall be
Confidence, Joyfulness, Overcoming One,
Faithfulness, Friend of God, One Who Seeks My Face.

We re-wrote it as us speaking to God, taking away the disempowering names and giving new names. Here are the four songs:

I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called
Angry, Palin-like or irrelevant.

I will change your name.
Your new name shall be
Agape, partnering, welcoming one,
Peacefulness, Friend of Mine,
One who seeks my gaze.

==
I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called
Judgmental, vengeful, or straight.

I will change your name.
Your new name shall be
Comforting, Compassionate, Forgiving One,
Available, Ever Present, One Who Loves Us All.
==
I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called
Angry, Vengeful, Fearful, or Distant.

I will change your name.
Your new name shall be
Loving, Vulnerable, accessible,
Nuturing . . . You who seeks me out.
==
If I could speak to you
I feel you see me as Good,
Treasured, Accepted, Loved and Loyal.

If I may call you
What's Deep in My Heart,
Know All, Things Are Planned, Help Me Accept It.
Surrender and Trust You Know What's Best for Me.

As you can see, we are a great group!

October 12 Communion Blessing

Today I prayed that each person to whom I gave communion would know that God is in the dark places and the light places in their lives, and in the easy places and the hard places. I prayed that God's light would shine through so that everyone could see it. Afterward one person came to me and said that my prayer was exactly what he needed to hear today. I told him that it is all about grace -- that God's grace tells me what to say at communion and that I was blessed to know that what I said helped him.

God is good, all the time. (Even when I'm frustrated because I can't find the cable I need to connect my portable DVD player to my video projector!)

Outcasts

As the week goes on, I feel worse about how I handled the situation with Don, explained in my previous post. He is an outcast: poor, queer, homeless, mentally ill, African-American. I'm white, middle class, currently mentally healthy, and have a home. Disciples are supposed to stand up for the outcast. I didn't stand up for Don in the way I should have. I ought to have told EMS and the police to take a hike, that there was no need for them. Instead, I let the situation spin out of control and Don ended up at Bellevue against his will.

I prayed this morning for forgiveness. I have a deep feeling that God has forgiven me for this, unconditionally. From now on I am going to try to do a better job of standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves.

I was feeling for a while like it would have been better if I had stayed in my apartment hiding out all weekend. At least then I wouldn't have had to deal with this situation. Except disciples aren't supposed to be holy hermits but actors for the reign of God in the real world. So I'm over that feeling. Pray with me for all those who are mentally ill and abused that someone will be there to stand up for them.

What is normal?

I feel bad about a situation I was involved in today. After the service Rev. Pat asked me if I would let Don (a pseudonym), a mentally ill queer youth, take a shower. She told me I would have to kick him out afterward. This was after the service. I said yes. After he got started in the bathroom I went upstairs to lock the third floor door and had to wait around a little bit for gender people to finish up. When I went back downstairs Don was still in the bathroom. I started encouraging him to come out. In the meantime, someone, without my permission, called 911. EMS and the cops ended up coming and taking Don to Bellevue. I feel like we tricked Don. Also, the other people involved apparently believe that Don should be forced to take his medicine and behave normally. But I don’t feel that way at all. Who knows what “normal” feels like to Don? Maybe “normal” is terrible for Don. Or maybe his meds have bad side effects for him. Anyway, who are we “normal” people to decide how someone else should live his life? So I ended up angry. I am still working on getting over my anger. I pray no harm comes to Don as a result of ending up at Bellevue.