Over at a new blogring of which I am a member, it was suggested that we write about the election. I find that I have little to say. I am intrigued by the fact that my brother, a businessman and lifeling Republican, tells me that McCain is a "no-way," that he could get behind Hilary without much of a problem, and that he is utterly frustrated by the apparent reality that the Dems are choosing Obama, whom he views as "maybe ready in another eight years."
Over at Faithstones, there are a couple of posts on a book called UnChristian, which apparently reflects the reality that many young people view the church as hypercritical and judgmental and anti-gay. That's how my own three young people view it, which also intrigues me, since neither my church nor my church friends nor I could be described in that way. (Well, okay ~ I'm their mother ~ I suppose they might see me as critical at times.) The power of the media? Again? Which I hold responsible for the Obama/Clinton phenomenon? Why have my children, who have heard a lifetime series of sermons, talks, and discussions about the radical inclusivity of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and who have spent their lives in and out of the orbit of Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish friends, including a community of nuns and various members of the clergy, who have welcomed them at every turn, come to see the church as the polar opposite of the values they cherish?
This past week-end, I received a handwritten letter from a lifelong friend of my dad, who just wanted to tell me how delighted he was that I am studying for the ministry. I think he has every reason to guess that we are on opposite sides of The Issue referenced above, but he could not have been more gracious. I am always going to treasure that communication.
Our church was about to burst with the Spirit yesterday. You might have thought we were Pentecostals instead of the Frozen Chosen. Several young people from the local high school's award-winning choral program, which includes a phenomenal gospel choir, have begin to grace our sanctuary on Sunday mornings. I don't know which was better: the music, the communion, the preaching, that atmosphere of ~ ahem ~ radical inclusivity . . . I suppose it was the whole conglomeration, which actually caused a crowd of decently-and-in-order Presbies to break into applause several times.
OK, denial at work. Can you tell that I am making my major Greek presentation in a few minutes? The outline alone is 13 pages. (Things got a little out of hand this past week-end.) And would you be surprised that my take on John 21's breakfast on the beach has something to do with hospitality and inclusivity?