Sunday, September 20, 2009


I wore pearls for my grandmother's funeral. Not the strand she'd given me, it wasn't the right length for my shirt. But I wore pearls nonetheless, and pearl studs in my ears. I will always associate pearls with my grandmother...perhaps partly because of her June birthday, but always because of her classic, polished beauty.

Before my grandfather died almost a year ago, he requested that Galatians 5:22-23 be read at his funeral: "But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law."

My uncle, likely at my grandmother's request, asked me to choose the scripture reading for hers.
My selection was Proverbs 31:25-31:
"Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her. "Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all." Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her of the fruits of her hands and let her works praise her in the gates."

There is no better description of my grandmother's quiet strength or the great love between her and my grandfather. I have so much peace knowing that they are together, their minds and bodies whole.

From the moment I had my own apartment, my grandmother's presence was a tablecloth, a cup and saucer in a retired china pattern that I dearly love, in an assortment of things purchased abroad and brought back for grandchildren. After her death she has invaded my space even more strongly....with a lavender cardigan, a carved strand of amethyst beads, an assortment of gloves, a suit to be altered.

When I look in the mirror now , I see much more of the steely determination underlying her quiet grace than I used to. I'm grateful for that. At the end of the day....I am the granddaughter of Claude and Sammie Davidson and Max and Marie Vanderford. Wide open spaces, a love for growing things and the ability to do the impossible are in my blood, just as much as my red hair and ugly feet.

Saturday, September 5, 2009


I'm looking forward to Advent so much right now. It's partly because Trinity-tide/Ordinary Time drags on soooo long. And while the tone everywhere drops during this season, the two Anglican churches in town have gone much more low/casual than I am used to or comfortable with. It would be almost enough to make me reconsider my ECUSA issues, except ECUSA has gotten so low church in general, I don't think it would make a difference. And I love Advent (and Lent) -the seasons of waiting and preparation resonate with me so much more, perhaps because of their quiet, austere, contemplative nature.But mainly, Trinity-tide is hard because it's the season most closely connected to the life and growth of the Church.

The Church is a petty group of First Baptisters in a Bible-belt town who drained the life out of my father and my family before throwing us on the dunghill. It is also the pastors and friends in that small town who offered loving silence and prayed peace and grace for us during that season.

The Church is every fight I got into in college with the religious establishment- about the role of women, air pollution, the value of public education, and (my favorite) "scientists are not stupid for believing in evolution." The Church is also many of the faculty at that college who encouraged me to love truth and pursue excellence, even when it's difficult.

The Church is the congregation who sent a friend of mine a bewildering letter, informing him of their intent to "release him to Satan" "in accordance with scriptures x, y, z" (yanked completely out of context). The Church is also the way I've found myself faithfully leaping to answer his phone calls at 3AM for the past year and a half.

And that's the we're asked both to be and to love the Bride of Christ.

per Luther- "The Church is a whore, but she is the Bride of Christ and your mother and you have no leave to abandon her."

Another church father whose name escapes me at the moment- "There is no one who has God as his Father who does not have the Church as his Mother."

Do I still believe that the Church can be redeemed? If I still believe God is omnipotent, I must. But between Binny Hinn's faith healing abuses, the "Prosperity Gospel" philosophy that has swept through the Church in the U.S., and the ridiculous amount of money being made off of a bizarre variety of Christian products (e.g. The Richest Christian Game, the Left Behind books, the "God's Little Princess" gear, the "oh, look, the world is ending and here's how we know" books, and a smorgasbord of cds by bands modeled after better secular bands) it's going to take an awful lot of work.

God is remarkably reluctant to send down fire from heaven to fix things. He more often partners in work with His children. I'm sure I benefit from this as much as anybody, but when it comes to the Church it's exceptionally frustrating. I don't want the work of working for the Redemption of the Church. Frankly, having been battered by the Church more than most, I feel like I should get a free pass here. Ideally, I could just come back in a few millenia after everything's been repaired.

It is impossible to love Christ and despise the Church. We are called to love her passionately, to not be content with mediocrity and to spare no effort in rebuilding her into what she should be:
"in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish (Eph 5:27, ESV)."

Right now, just showing up on Sunday morning and writing a tithe check is all I can manage. But it's a good faith effort, and I think God gets that.