How to talk about religion and politics on Facebook

At least once a week, I get the same message on Facebook. It is some variation on “I don’t know how you do it!” Usually, these messages come from my more progressive friends who express astonishment at my ability to share my thoughts on very controversial topics without losing my cool. 

My response is almost always the same. I share my honest belief that if we cannot even TALK about important subjects such as religion and politics with respect then that there is no hope for taking any sort of meaningful action towards change. 

I believe that. I do.

However, the reason I can talk about religion and politics and stay calm is a little more complicated than that. 

 Read the rest of the post in Irreverin on Patheos.

A Harry Potter Children's Sermon

Last weekend, our church - Grace Episcopal Church of Paducah, KY - hosted a Harry Potter themed Vacation Bible School. I had A LOT of people ask me what a church was doing teaching Harry Potter. Most were in awe. Some were confused. A very few were skeptical. We began the weekend with a family night and screening of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Then, Saturday the kids spent all morning crafting wands, eating wizarding treats, and generally having a blast. On Sunday, our seriously awesome interim rector Meghan Holland taught a special Harry Potter children's sermon for the whole congregation, which I think wonderfully illustrates why the witches and wizards of J.K. Rowling's magical world are perfectly suited to church. 

You’re all part of families, right? Some of you are the oldest, some of you are the youngest, some of you are the middlest. Does everyone have a job in your family? I’m the youngest in my family. My job was to aggravate my older siblings. It was also my job to make everyone laugh. But you know what? There’s more to you than just being the oldest or the youngest or the most aggravating or the funniest!

Today’s Gospel story that we just read was about Jesus. He came back to his hometown after many weeks of traveling around and healing people and teaching them about God. The people in his hometown thought he was crazy. They said, “Look at this guy! We know his mother and his brothers! He doesn’t come from anything special.” And Jesus said that it doesn’t matter who you are in your family, we are ALL special, because we are all Children of God. We are all loved by God. Even if we’re the aggravating baby of the family.

Do you all remember at the end of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone when Harry was facing off with Professor Quirrell? What happened?

When Harry touched him, he started turning to dust. Do you know why? What did Dumbledore say? Lily Potter, Harry’s mother had died saving him. She loved her son Harry SO MUCH that she would die to protect him, to save him. In fact, by sacrificing herself for her child she left an invisible protection around Harry. The power of love protected Harry.

“ He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves it own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.”

— J.K. Rowling

That’s just like what God does for us. God would sacrifice EVERYTHING to save us. God loves us THAT much. And you know what? God’s love leaves an invisible protection around you! Just like Harry has. There are all sorts of bad things in the world, and sometimes bad things happen to us. But God loves us so much that even in our darkest times, God will always be with us, surrounding us.

Hold out your wands. You all have different cores inside your wands. Inside of these wands are things about yourself. Things you do. Things that make you special. Things that bring you closer to God. Each house put something different inside their wand.

Does anyone want to share what’s inside their wand? It’s okay if you don’t, it might be private. But ALL of these things that make your wand’s core, are gifts from God because he loves you. There are different things inside your wands, but for ALL of you, it’s God’s love that brings your magic.

What kind of magic do you want to do with God’s love? We might not be able to float feathers or anything like that, but we CAN do great things with God’s love. We can love everyone as much as we love ourselves. We can always try to do what is right and peaceful. And we can make sure everyone feels loved as we are loved by God. That is the real magic.

You are God’s beloved children. You are. You are. You are. You are. God made you from scratch and he loves you from your toenails to ends of your hair. But you know what, there will be times in our life that we forget that. There may be times in our life that we don’t feel like God’s beloved children. There will be times when life isn’t fair, when there are bad, scary, or sad times. And you know what, we might just forget. We may not be able to see or feel God. We may not be able to do our magic.

There’s a saying in Harry Potter that says that, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” The same goes with the church. You can always come to this church, or really to any church, and other Christians will help you. The grown-ups in this room took vows to help you when you need it, to love you when you need it. You can always come here when you feel like life is dark and the magic has run out.

That’s when we have to rely on our faith to get us through. Now, does anyone here know what a Patronus charm is in Harry Potter? It is a protection spell that you can cast, and it takes the form of an animal, and it drives away bad things, like dementors. Now, we can’t cast that spell, can we? Nope.

But what we can do is remember our faith when times are bad. We can remember that God made us and loves us. In the church, we have a special way of remembering. We say something called the Nicene Creed. We look at the cross and say special words. One day, you might learn them by heart and the words will be with when your life gets bad or scary or sad. In the church, the Nicene Creed is sort of like a Patronus charm. We know that no matter what happens, our faith will always be there for us. It will be as real and as solid as Harry’s stag Patronus is for him.

Now, I know that you don’t know these words by heart yet. And really, not every adult does either. That’s okay. The rest of us in the church are going to say the words and you can just listen hard. And, ya know what, why don’t you raise your wands and point them to the cross. Not because you can cast a spell, but to remember that your faith, the faith of all these grown-ups that love you, will be with you always.

If you live in Paducah and would like to learn more about Grace Episcopal, you can follow us on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook!

This sermon is why I'm an Episcopalian

Photo by Rob Holland

This is the sermon delivered by The Rev. Richard Paxton on April 26, 2015, the date of Felix's baptism at Grace Episcopal Church.

Whenever I begin to formulate a sermon, I often start by consulting Bible commentaries. I like to see what biblical scholars are saying as I ponder their meaning myself.

In the case of today’s readings on this Good Shepherd Sunday, I consulted a few commentaries, and a recurrent theme kept cropping up—in fact, a recurrent adjective:  “superfluous.”

Repeatedly, scholars apologized in advance that their commentaries on these bible passages were superfluous. You know what that word means:  “superfluous” describes something that is so unnecessary that it could easily be done away with, like a fifth wheel on a car.

The image of the LORD as the “my shepherd” in the 23rd Psalm, and the image of Jesus as the “good shepherd” in today’s Gospel, are so well known, are so belov’d, are such powerful imagery, are such powerful metaphor, that to comment further on them would be superfluous, or worse:  my preaching might compromise the abundant power found right at the surface of these Bible passages.

Sometimes I wonder if savvy priests haven’t considered such matters when they decide to assign preaching away to the deacon on Sundays like this!

I do believe we pew-dwellers get this idea of the LORD being our shepherd -- a shepherd who leaves us neither wanting nor lacking any single thing, who gives us gentle rest, a refreshing nap in the grass beside a gentle brook; who serves a marvelous banquet for us, right here in front of our enemies; who shepherds us right through those dark shadows of the deadly valley; who brings us home to our safe dwelling in the same way any caring shepherd would.

And I furthermore believe that we get the image of Jesus as the good shepherd. For me, it’s always the banner or stained-glass window bearing the image of that bucolic scene showing Jesus, shepherd’s staff in hand, bearing a sheep draped over both shoulders--gently carrying the once-lost creature back to its fold.

So, lest I become superfluous, all I’d like to say about today is that this seems like a really great Sunday to get baptized! --particularly for a little baby who hasn’t the first clue what is about to happen.

Thinking of Jesus as shepherd is also a great way to think about Baptism, particularly Baptism of an infant.

We might raise the question (and believe you me many people definitely do raise the question): Why would we rush infants into this sacrament?  

Many of our brother and sister denominations actually reject the practice.  They argue that Baptism should be entered into only by those who make a conscious, mature decision to reject Satan and to walk with Christ. It’s a valid argument—an argument that understands the role of faith in Baptism.

On the other hand, some other traditions justify infant baptism as a means of ridding the child of what they define as “original sin.”  They argue that all humanity is born into a natural state of “sin” stemming from the “fall” of Adam back in the beginning. The baby needs to be washed of this sin, and ASAP.

I have a tough time with that concept.  It is perhaps well thought-out theology; but who among us, viscerally, can look down at the miracle of a newborn child and honestly say,“Aren’t you a precious little lump of original sin?”

So, why baptize an infant?  Well, it is important to understand what the sacrament is all about in the first place.

The BCP definition (on p. 858)—expound on Catechism (p.845)

Q: What is Baptism?

A: It is the sacrament by which God adopts us as God’s children, And makes us members of Christ’s body.

Q: What is required of us at Baptism?

A: It is required that we renounce Satan, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus as our Lord and savior. Since clearly an infant can neither renounce nor repent, --much less accept Jesus-- the Catechism asks the next logical question: Why then are infants baptized?

A: They are baptized so that they can share membership in Christ, and redemption by God. But knowing the reader won’t be quite satisfied by this, The Catechism asks the next logical question: How are promises for infants made and carried out?

Answer: Promises are made for them by their parents and sponsors, who guarantee that the infants will be brought up within the Church, to know Christ and be able to follow him.

But after all the arguments for and against infant Baptism, after all the theological wrangling and disagreement, after the Catechetical reference and the questions and answers contained therein …

It all boils down to this:

You cannot escape the overflowing waters of grace that come from the LORD our God.

Whether we choose to be baptized or not,

Whether we decide to reject Satan or not,

Whether we decide to accept the Jesus story (or not), the floodwaters of God’s grace inundate us nonetheless.

And so we baptize Felix.  We flood him with the grace of God’s love, we symbolically drown him into the death of Christ, and we raise him out of Noah’s floodwaters into the new world, a restored world, a resurrection world.

A world in which, yes, the LORD is his shepherd, and a world in which, yes, Jesus Christ is his good shepherd. But also a world in which this entire community of faith becomes a shepherd to Felix— in such a way that he will never recall a time when we were not his shepherds.  

There’s a great reason to baptize a baby: He will never recall a time when, you, Church, were not his shepherds.

Sarah and Nicholas, Griffin and Amos and family, godparents, you religious educators, and you--each and every member of Christ’s body in this room—you now take on Christ’s role as Felix’ Good Shepherd.

Let us all be mindful then, that this Baptism in a few minutes is not some magic act; that the waters are not some supernatural potion that will protect him from all harm in this life.

In time, Felix will learn what sin is.

He will sin himself.

He will suffer disappointments and hurts, and be subjected to many injustices, a few bad teachers, maybe some bad friends, and as Murphy as my witness: even a bit of rotten luck here and there as he comes up in the world.

But Felix will never remember a time when the grace of God was not there for him.  

He will never remember a time when he had to choose whether to avail himself of God’s love.

No, for Felix, God’s grace came unconditionally,

Without price,

Without condition,

Without a doubt,

Without a beginning, and 

Without an end.

God’s love was always there for Felix…let’s acknowledge that… starting right now!

Catch up, Gwynnie.

Recently, Gwyneth Paltrow made news by recommending a v-steam on her lifestyle website Goop. Too bad I scooped her on this trend THREE YEARS AGO.

"You're going to have a v-steam...I'm not telling you what that is," says The Other Sarah upon my arrival in L.A.

It's a good thing I like surprises. 

I arrived at Tikkun Holisitc Spa on Wednesday morning and was greeted by the owner Niki Han Schwarz. She was as revealing as Sarah was secretive. 

"You're having a vaginal steam. Are you familiar with the procedure?"

Well... I'm familiar with my vagina and I'm familiar with steam but I sure as hell never thought I'd be putting the two together in the same sentence - much less the same physical space. She politely explained it was an ancient procedure that was performed on Korean royalty and that it would release toxins while increasing hormonal balance. Basically, I pieced together that I would be sitting over a steaming pot of herbs.

She tooks me back to the treatment room and wrapped me in a purple strapless robe that would trap the steam. I sat on a big fancy chair (felt sort of like a throne, which in combo with the purple did feel a bit royal) and she informed me I would sit with the steam for 30 minutes.

Whoa. Thirty minutes!

At this point, I had given her my cell phone to charge during the spa treatments. I smiled. "Is there anyway I can get my cell phone back?" 

No way I was going to sit there for a half an hour getting my vagina steamed without telling half the planet...which I proceeded to do once she brought me my phone. I basically texted every girlfriend I had (as well as Nicholas). Seriously. If we've shared so much as a fun coffee date, you probably got this text from me last week. 

"FYI. I'm currently having my vagina steamed. Just thought you should know."

Nicholas has still not responded. I can't decide if that's good or bad. Here is a sampling of responses from my nearest and dearest:

"Wtf? What does that even mean?" (Actually I got WTF a couple of times.)

"How does one find out about a vagina steam?"

"With what desired result?"

"California is a strange land!"

One girlfriend has even taken to calling me steamy. 

When I wasn't giggling at the steady stream of texts coming my way, the procedure itself was pretty relaxing. The chair itself wasn't super-comfortable but apply heat to an (ahem) substantial part of your body for a long period of time and you start to feel the affects. 

Unfortunately, you have to do a series of steams to really feel the long-term benefits and I don't see this procedure coming to Paducah anytime soon. However, it was really fun and a unique experience I would recommend it to anyone. 

Also, you have no idea how much I've loved dropping this into casual conversation.

"How was your trip to LA?"

"Well! I got my vagina steamed!"

It's not really about the boobs

Photo Credit: Trav155 via Compfight cc

My response to the viral post "My Husband Doesn't Need To See Your Boobs" and why it's not REALLY about the boobs at all. 

Last week, my cousin Taylor texted me a link to a blog post. Written by Lauren from Apples & Band-Aids blog, the post was entitled “My husband doesn’t need to see your boobs.”

In the post, Lauren goes out of her way to say she is not judging any woman who posts her bikini-clad self on social media but does ask if any and all bikini-clad women could just NOT. The photos were a “stumbling block” in her marriage and everything would be so much better if the photos weren’t there. 

Taylor’s commentary was simple. “This bothers me.”

It bothers me, too.

Post by Sarah Stewart Holland.

It bothers a lot of you if the above Facebook conversation is any indication. It also CLEARLY bothered a lot of other people too because Lauren shut down the comments section because it had come a place of attack and “hatred.”

So, here’s the thing. I’m not here to shame this woman. If the post is any indication, she carries around enough shame already. 

And the truth is I don’t know her and I don’t know her marriage. She admits to a certain amount of insecurity, which is something from which none of us are immune. We all worry - even a little bit - our spouse might find someone else (maybe Dean Cain… KIDDING) more attractive than us. We all worry that other people are focusing in on the bits we’d rather keep hidden. We all hear the societal message that we can do more, be more - or less in the case of weight.

To me, what seems to make Lauren different is that she feels like this normal human emotion is a part of some bigger battle - a battle she feels justified in asking perfect strangers help her fight. 

She is a woman “fighting for her marriage.” She is “protecting his eyes, protecting his heart.” She is clearly a woman of strong religious beliefs and talks in her About Me section about living a life of “sanctified striving.” Other posts mention “dying to self” and “crosses to bear” and battling to let go of “selfish desires.”

And to that I say - Whew, sister, have I BEEN THERE.

I’ve shared before that I grew up in a strongly evangelical church and lived a deeply religious life through most of my adolescence. Buried deep in my history, I recognized the language Lauren speaks. The language of “stumbling blocks” and “temptation.” The language of not good enough.

Recently, my therapist and I were talking about self-compassion and how that’s something I am not very good at. (Understatement of the century. More posts on that coming soon!) She asked where that came from and without a hesitation I answered, “Growing up Baptist.”

Now, hold up! I know some of y’all are Baptist. I’ve got nothing but love for you! I long ago realized I had to stop making what happened to me about ALL religion or ALL religious people. 

However, for better or worse, the message I got growing up was “You are full of sin and you better work your BUTT off to glorify God and prove you’re worth it.” Not having premarital sex before marriage? Great, now give up dating all together. Going to church every Sunday and Wednesday? Great, now make sure and wake up every morning and have your quiet time with God. Listening to Christian music to “protect your hearts” from Satan? Great, now give up ALL secular music. 

And that message of not good enough - as Lauren’s post alludes to - was particularly strong when it came to women and sexuality. Sex was sinful, the temptation was everywhere, and it was all the girl’s fault. After all, I don’t see many photos of mother’s dressed up in ball gowns vowing to protect their son’s virginity. 

I would have absolutely described it as a life of “sanctified striving” at the time but, let me tell you, all that life left me was sanctimonious and TIRED.

It has taken me years to reject that message. It has taken me hours of conversations with deeply spiritual dear friends and endless amounts of time spent reading and thinking and pondering (endless as in I still do it) to leave that framework behind. 

And it took me finding a new spiritual home to realize the true meaning of grace.

That, no, I am not perfect and that is OK. That the acceptance and love of God is GIVEN - not earned. That grace is a place of deep and abiding peace - not a battlefield.

So, what I really feel when I read Lauren’s post is deep sadness. I see the chinks in her armor. I hope being a “soldier for Christ” leaves her fulfilled because all it left me was gun-shy and battle scarred. 

Accusations of Intolerance

Recently, my stepfather and I were having a discussion about Phil Robertson and the Duck Dynasty controversy. He expressed disgust with some of Robertson’s remarks but also told me he felt that Christians were often called intolerant for upholding the tenants of their religion.

I understood his point. Many of you know that I was raised Southern Baptist and for most of my adolescence was a devoted evangelical Christian. I remember feeling persecuted for my beliefs during that time in my life. I always felt like I was on the losing end of the culture wars and that no matter what I did or what I said I would always be the outcast who wasn’t having sex before marriage or who would prefer reading her Bible to late night partying.

Of course, in reality, it doesn’t take much to make a teenager feel persecuted and I realize now that often people took real issue with my beliefs but never singled me out merely because of my identification as a Christian. 

As I grew older and slowly abandoned that identity, I often found myself on the opposite side of the argument. Suddenly, I was the one accusing Christians of intolerant behavior. I vividly remember an intense discussion with a fellow classmate during college. He had voted against funding for my new women’s rights organization and I demanded to know why. He expressed concern with ever-changing gender roles and read me Bible verse after Bible verse to try and persuade me.

At one point, I said, “I get why that works for you. Not only are you right, but you have God on your side.” It’s difficult to argue with someone who believes they have God on their side and I think that is where the accusations of intolerance so often come from.

Intolerance is defined as unwillingness to accept views, beliefs, or behavior that differ from one's own.  I suppose it depends on how your further define “accept” but it is difficult to find acceptance when another person defines your behavior as opposed to the law of God. For better or for worse, there is no room for the differences between us when your beliefs aren’t merely beliefs but are viewed as fundamental truths.

So does that mean all Christians are intolerant? Does that also mean that people who oppose certain Christian beliefs are also intolerant?

To be honest, I don’t really know. How do we find space for one another when our “truths” seem so diametrically opposed? In my own life, I try to remember that none of us are wholly and completely defined by our beliefs. I try to remember that my own beliefs have changed over the years and could always change again.

I also try to remember that the answer to intolerance is not more intolerance, but a willingness to understand where the other person is coming from and not just prove a point. I won’t say it’s always easy but it is always worth it.

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Sacramental Sounds

Me in my Southern Baptist days.

I love music and the spiritual insight that music can provide. I still love many of the songs from my Southern Baptist days - despite leaving most of my ideas from that time behind. 

This is one of them.

He had me by the opening line.

“On the banks of the Tennessee River
In a small Kentucky town”

I knew that river and that town. Steven Curtis Chapman was born and raised in my hometown of Paducah, Kentucky. There is something special about a song that begins with your own geography.

However, that is not why I love this song. From the song’s quiet beginning on the banks of the Tennessee, the song’s tempo and fervency increases. It builds into an energetic and enthusiastic testimony to a faith and God that makes you DANCE. A God that himself dances. 

“The world beneath us spins in circles
And this life makes us twist and turn and sway
But we were made for more than rhythm with no reason
By the one who moves with passion and with grace
As He dances over all that He has made”

There’s only one problem. I was a Southern Baptist (at the time) and we didn’t dance and we certainly didn’t dance to songs about God. 

At this time in my life, faith was a heavy thing - a burdensome theology of sin and failing and fear. 

The soaring and joyful sound of Steven Curtis Chapman’s Lord of the Dance reminded me that faith didn’t have to be so heavy. Faith didn’t have to weigh you down. Faith could leave you light and full of movement.

Faith could make you dance. 

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Church is for me.

 Over two years ago, my husband and I started taking Griffin to church. At the time, I wrote an honest and heartfelt explanation of why I was taking my child to church despite my long and complicated personal history with the institution. 

I was doing what was best for him. I was giving him a chance at the spirituality and faith I had long ago abandoned. I was being a good mom.  

Well, a funny thing happened on the way to the altar. Week by week. Month by month. I began to fall in love with church. 

Don't worry, this isn't a testimony. I won't be expounding on the power of Jesus's love or joining a mission trip anytime soon. My doubts remain. My questions are many. However, my faith - small and fragile like the tiny buds I suddenly see on every tree - is starting to grow. 

I'm not sure when it happened exactly. In the beginning, I did my fair share of compartmentalizing. We would go to church. We would enjoy the community. We would take away what we wanted and ignore the rest. 

Based on my past, I think deep down I expected to be found out and expelled. I grew up believing it was all or nothing. Believe. Fall in line. Or get out. 

But here. In this new church, (well…new to me - Episcopals have been around a while) there was room for my doubts. There was room for my questions. In fact, it seemed everyone had them. They didn't seem to be searching for concrete answers but rather to enjoy discussing the questions … together. 

I also began to hear my values echoed back to me in the pew. Values of compassion and equality and justice. I started to feel safe. I started to think about ideas I had stopped thinking about a decade earlier. Ideas that once upon a time brought me great comfort. I started to think about the meaning of grace. I started to think about faith.

For so long, I had focused on the practice of presence. Through reading and yoga (and lots of Oprah), I have come to believe that the present moment is where happiness truly lies. Then one day it came to me. Wasn't faith an exercise in being present? Wasn't faith forgetting the pain of the past and the anxiety of the future and trusting the grace of God will get you only through what you are facing right now, right at this present moment? 

Still pondering my new connection, I was delighted to encounter a description of "present-oriented piety" in Dennis R. Maynard's book Those Episkopals.

This is a piety that proclaims that the world is a good place. It will tell you that life is good and living is a gift from God. … It is a church that will tell you that God comes to you every day of your life in ten thousand different ways; you need only open your eyes to see Him.

Maybe I would have come to this realization on my own. Maybe I would have found space for the quiet self-reflection I've found in the pews of Grace Episcopal Church. 

However, I would have missed the opportunity to take this journey with the beautiful souls that fill my church. I would have missed the incredible gift that is a community of the faithful. A spiritual journey is available to all no matter where you spend your Sabbath but building a relationship with God through a relationship with your community is a truly special thing. 

Church helped me see that. 

 Did you attend church as a child? Do you attend church now?

Originally published on Salt & Nectar. 

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