Barry McCauley

On Tuesday I attended a memorial service for a man I never met named Barry McCauley. Barry had been a student at Starr King School for the Ministry (SKSM), one of the nine sister-seminaries of the GTU. I attended because I take ecumenical community organization very seriously; I have two friends who were deeply affected by his death and I wanted to be there as a supportive witness to them, but I also wanted to let the SKSM community know that I support them as a whole.

I knew that I would be emotionally affected by the memorial, certainly, but I was unprepared for just how deeply. Toward the end of the service there was an open space for people to share memories of Barry; the stories I heard about this beautiful man were simply a joy to experience. I was moved by the Spirit to speak, and I told the group that I was in an unusual position because my memories of Barry began with his memorial but that I wanted them to know that Barry's spirit is so powerful that a person he never met was moved to tears by the love in the room.

The two points of the memorial which touched me the most deeply were 1) when an SKSM student spoke of how Barry made her feel what it would've been like to be friends with Jesus during his mortal life more than any single person she has ever met, and 2) when someone read a journal entry Barry wrote that focused on his sadness at the pain his white friends live with as allies of him as a black man. The very concept that a person of color "gets it" re: the narrative of the white ally... there are no words sufficient to express the gratitude I felt, hearing this man's words.

Several folks commented on how Barry was an incredible mix of lovingkindness and lion-like passion for social justice, how it was in his nature to challenge people to grow and rise up to the call of building a better world. I ask God for the strength to be worthy of the call expressed by Barry McCauley -- a man I never met, who inspires me. From henceforth let no man trouble me, for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus. Brethren, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. (Galatians 6:17-18) αμήν

City Of Refuge 7/17/2011. Praise GOD.

I am still buzzing from today's City Of Refuge worship service.

The sermon was delivered by the fabulous Ann Jefferson who, in addition to her role as COR's Associate Pastor, is the coordinator of the ministry certificate program at my seminary. The sermon alone was a monumental experience... this amazing woman of God connected her recent experience with altitude sickness while at the Presbyterian Conference Center up near Zephyr Cove NV (southeast shore of Lake Tahoe, just a few miles beyond Stateline along US 50), to the synoptics' story of Jesus, Elijah, and Moses shown to Peter, James, and John on the Mount Of Transfiguration. But she didn't just make a nice metaphorical connection; she delivered the kind of sermon that reminds me of precisely why I am a Christian, why I believe so strongly in a radical-deconstructionist Protestant reclamation of liberation theology, and why I am in exactly the place God wants for me, doing the exact work God wants me to do. I have the ability to write Biblically-based sermons of this caliber and I thank God for that blessing; I only ask that God give me the powerful voice to deliver such a sermon to others who deserve to know the peace I have found after so many years.

But, that said, this entry is about something else.

Upon arriving at the COR building and sitting down for the beginning of the service, my friend Lee and I both noticed this absolutely radiant slightly older woman; she had a long royal-purple head-wrap and was just... cool. I am sure that most of us can relate: you walk into a room where you do not know many people, you meet eyes with some folks who you remember from an earlier time, and then you find yourself just awed by the spiritual presence of one particular person? Well, that's what I experienced. Oh, but wait: there's more to this story. So much more.

During the service we noticed this wonderful sister looking back toward the entryway; some folks arrive on fashionably-late time so I figured that perhaps she was looking for a specific person. Sure enough, she looked back and started to beckon someone... again, I didn't give it much thought. Then this wonderful sister actually got up and walked back behind us, presumably to help the other person. There are many people with mobility challenges in this congregation; again, I didn't give it too much thought.

Then I saw her return with the person whom she had beckoned.

Now, I do not know who this other woman was to her. Maybe they've known each other for years. Or maybe they just met on the street. Or, maybe the Spirit was moving through them, guiding a person who needed to feel love at that moment. I do not know. I do know that, as they walked past us in the aisle, it suddenly became clear to me that the second woman was either homeless, or at-risk, or had some internal conflict... and that she was afraid to step forward into the Living Word. The Holy Spirit moved through the room and gave strength to the first woman, who convinced the second woman not only to enter the seating area but to walk up with her and sit next to her approximately three rows back from the front. Almost immediately, I sensed that this second woman's spirit was encountering the Holy Spirit in her midst, and her entire body-language shifted toward peace and love. And toward safety. I saw the Holy Spirit grip a person who had been tossed aside by society and let that person know, with no uncertainty, that she is safe, that God loves her, that Jesus died for her, and that the Holy Spirit is with her.

I saw a miracle, with my own two eyes.

Not a millisecond after that thought came to me, my entire body did the electric "zing thing" and it was like a dam burst across my tear ducts. I looked over at my friend, and realized -- to my amazement -- that his eyes were also leaking. "Again I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth concerning anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in Heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them." (Matthew 18:19-20) At that moment, two things screamed into my consciousness. There is irony here, because I take the underlying theological lessons of these two things to be self-evident. But, clearly, God wanted to remind me of some basic things...

First, God gave my friend and me a blessing by allowing us to witness the Holy Spirit alighting on this woman; it serves as yet another proof that Salvation spread outward from that moment in time, 2000 years ago on a hill in the Middle East, and It is still working its magic in us in the manner of the Holy Spirit which has not ceased flowing across the Earth since the Day Of Pentecost.

Second, we are all equal in Salvation because Jesus died for all of us. Not just for those with access to the Federal Student Loan Program. And that brings me to my take-home point: those of us with access to multiple Bibles, who have a steady roof over our heads, who have a stocked cupboard from which to choose our next week's meals, have been given privilege. But such a privilege does not come without a price: to those whom fortune smiles, service beckons.

Or to put it another way, if we profess to fashion our lives after the model of Jesus, but we do not first-and-foremost devote ourselves to serving those in need, then of what use are we? All of us who accept the deposit of the Holy Spirit are saved; this we know. But if the Holy Spirit demands that we love our neighbor as we love ourselves, then how can we serve God and not offer service to those who are in need? If we claim to have received the Holy Spirit but we do not let it take over our actions in service of equalizing the world for all of God's children, then have we really accepted the Spirit?

And there was a cloud that overshadowed them; and a voice came out of the cloud, saying "THIS IS MY BELOVED SON: HEAR HIM!" And suddenly when they had looked round about, they saw no man anymore, save Jesus with them. (Mark 9:7-8)

It All Comes Down To This

Calendars are interesting things. By standardizing the pulse of the living world into discrete quanta, calendars give us the illusion that we have control over the future. For example: if we make a "firm" date for dinner at 8PM three days from now then we create an expectation on the Universe that in approximately 72 hours we will be sitting down to eat food. It's a neat illusion.

Of course, at times that illusion crashes down. Theologically speaking, the reason is simple: we are not, ultimately, in control. We do not create the future, inasmuch as God is in charge, has always been in charge, and will always be in charge. Sure, we like to focus on our God's gift of free will, and we like to believe that we can change the course of the future. Even I myself fall prey to the I-am-in-charge side of the paradox of Free Will when I continue to be so deeply moved by Galadriel's line to Frodo: "even the smallest person can change the course of the future."

But just thinking about it even a bit more closely, the paradox rears its beautiful head. Ponder this: if we can change the future, then just who is really in charge here? God, or us? If we take God's sovereignty as a self-evident aspect of our theology, then we must invariably conclude that we can only change the future in ways that God permits. Otherwise, God is not completely in charge, right? Of course, ultimately, this type of thinking takes me to what must be the single Old Testament book that I have come to love the most: the book of Job of course.

The saga of Job has been on my mind a lot lately, and particularly in the last few days. It began early this week as a matter of extrapolating Biblical lessons out of aspects of the Harry Potter canon, but in the last 24 hours I have been buffeted by death multiple times. Nobody I know has died but, ironically enough, it has been people from whom I was precisely two degrees removed. I thank God for blessing me with the ability to support my friends who are in mourning.

The juxtaposition of the end of the Harry Potter film saga with my very recent taste of mortality is unmistakeable. While the story of Job teaches us that ultimately God's machinations are a mystery to us, we still have that never-ending need to figure out a meaning to all of this stuff and a need to believe that all people's deaths, no matter how mysterious, fit into a masterfully crafted Grand Unified Theory of everything. After all, God is in charge... right?

In the end though, I find myself drawn toward the conclusion that those who are still alive must go through the sense of loss, the anger at God, the desperate attempt to turn back the clock, and hopefully then they can arrive at a state of acceptance and learn to find joy again. I pray for this outcome for all my friends who are hurting right now from the loss of people they love.

On a personal note, this first decade of the 21st century was marked by 9/11 but it was also marked by Harry Potter. The decade began with the first film and it has ended with the advent of the final film. It's a monumental achievement, and I for one cannot believe that it's been almost 10 full years since we first saw The Boy Who Lived come alive on the big screen. Yes, he came to fame as The Boy Who Lived. But, in the end, we shall lift him up as a role model, a hero, for something more amazing and much more simple. Simply put, Harry Potter stared Satan straight in the face and he was willing to die for the one thing most precious in this world: love.

μείζονα ταύτης ἀγάπην οὐδεὶς ἔχει, 

ἵνα τις τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ θῇ ὑπὲρ τῶν φίλων αὐτοῦ.

(Greater love hath no man than this, 

that a man lay down his life for his friends.)

- John 15:13

The Gospel of the Lord. Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Sister Wives, Gay Civil Rights? WTF?

Disclaimer:

I have plenty of anger toward the LDS re: its role in Prop 8 as well as its positions on many other social issues. I may eventually vent that anger in other posts but to be clear, this post is not an anti-LDS rant. The Mainstream Mormon Church disavowed polygamy many decades ago. 

The family featured on TLC's RealityTV show Sister Wives is suing the state of Utah. Their suit alleges that Utah was aware of their polygamous lifestyle but only began investigating them when the popularity of their show reignited a cycle of bad press about Mormonism and polygamy.

Whoop-de-f'ing-doo. Why do I care what a family -- albeit a family whose daughters are clearly being groomed to follow a polygamous lifestyle -- does with their personal lives? Here's why: the core of their legal argument is the 2003 SCOTUS ruling on Lawrence v Texas, the landmark case wherein the court ruled that sodomy laws violate the 14th Amendment's guarantee of substantive due process. Simply put, the family's position is that they are not in violation of Utah law because there is only one legal marriage, with the other marriages being spiritual marriages. The family views the need for one legal marriage as a point of civil law with which they are happy to comply. Gee, I wish I had their problems.

But the thing I must keep in mind is that whether I agree with their interpretation of Scripture or not, this is a deeply religious family and their beliefs should be respected. I think Utah is in an indefensible position with regard to regulation of polyamory between consenting adults who are not attempting any type of fraud and who specifically refuse to receive any public aid for their children; this family is quite wealthy so the financial issue is moot. This lawsuit is not being filed by people like the FLDS: this is not a case of incestuous child-rape masquerading as religious freedom like in Hildale & Colorado City.

And yet... these polygamists propose to use a SCOTUS ruling about my sexual freedom and civil rights in order to extend their heterosexual privilege. One could point out -- quite correctly -- that the Sister Wives family is not trying to alter a legal definition of marriage, and that nobody in Lawrence v Texas was either, so the case law is applicable to them as well. It makes logical sense, I suppose, but it still just doesn't sit well with me.

I am not asking for the right to marry multiple husbands; my religious beliefs do not permit such a thing. My religious beliefs do, however, recognize my right to a spiritual marriage with another man; it's called ἀδελφοποίησις (adelphopoiesis) and it was an accepted practice of the early Christian church. All I am asking for is some reciprocity from polygamists regarding my religious freedom: if you want me to advocate for your right to marry lots of women, then how about offering to help me secure my right to marry just one man. Really, is that asking too much?

Girrrrl, It Ain't About A Man.

I was talking with a friend today and she mentioned her desire for a companion in life. She then asked me if I'd ever lived alone; it took a minute for me to understand that what she was really asking was whether I had ever been in a cohabiting relationship that ended and was then forced to live alone.

It got me to thinking, just how fundamentally blessed I am that God has seen fit to keep me in a living situation where I have a roof over my head but do not have to share it with anyone, save my beautiful furry boys Shadow and Saxon. It's also interesting because this particular seminary friend, as it turns out, is feline: her animal totem is a mountain lion. As anyone who knows me will know, my animal totem is also a large feline... for many years it felt like he was a full-on black panther -- meaning, a highly melanistic specimen of Panthera onca jaguar -- but recently I have come to wonder if my totem is some form of mix that includes mountain lion as well, in the form of a mountain lion like my friend's animal totem Puma concolor.

But why do I mention this? Well, one thing that Puma concolor is widely known for is its reclusiveness. Mountain lions would just-as-soon be left alone, in solitude, and they prefer to live with as little contact with others of their species (not to mention other apex-level predators) as possible. Some research has documented mountain lions with habitat ranges on the order of several hundred square miles. Dear God in Heaven, if only there were that few people in the SF Bay Area... sigh...

Interestingly enough, though, my chat with my seminary buddy got me thinking: am I really happy in my life of solitude? I must say, somewhat reluctantly, that I basically am. Do I wish I had a husband? I guess I do, but here's the thing: when I consider the basic sense of wholeness and satisfaction that I feel when I wake up every morning and know that a man named Jesus loved me so much that he laid down His own life for me, it leaves me wondering: could a mortal man ever give me that much love? The answer is self-evident. After knowing this love, why would I even seek anything else?

I read the paragraph directly above and I think back to where my life was, for example, five years ago. Philip-2006 would read the words in the preceding paragraph and truly, honestly, think that Philip-2011 had gone absolutely, totally, certifiably psychotic. But, yet, it feels like I am more true to my spiritual essence now than at perhaps anytime in my life since 1996 when I had what I call my "Spiritual Awakening."

It's a curious life that I live. I sleep alone, in a bed that is easily big enough for me and my two cats (each of whom has his own kitty-bed on top of my bed) and like, yaknow, two other grown men (God bless those Swedes and their DUX Corporation's beds!). But, in the best of ironies, I simply no longer need anyone in the bed with me -- except those two stunningly beautiful cats who do not complicate my sleep cycles the way another person would. All my life I had been looking for something... for the great man, for the great job, for the great home. Never with an adequately grateful spirit giving thanks to God for where I was. [Yes, there's a Star Wars Yoda-quote implicit in this line of thinking!]

But, now, I feel... whole. Would I like a cuddle-bug? Sure. Do I want a husband to wake up with every day for the rest of my life? Sure. But, when I juxtapose the concept of such a mate with my life in Christ... well... I just can't imagine ever meeting a man in this life who would come close to giving me that level of satisfaction. Of joy. Of relief. Because, finally after all these years, I am not alone.

What more could a guy ask for?

Maybe It's Just Me...

...but I wonder if I am past the point of no return with regard to my technological prowess. I mean, I love my MacBook Pro and use it like a fiend; it's my fifth Mac (after... let's see... in order: LC475, 8100/110, Cube, and G4 TiBook). I'm on my second iPhone. I am copacetic with the Netflix streaming-video concept. My Facebook profile lists "Extreme TiVo" as my personal sport. I get technology. And yet...

People just a few years younger than me have like 1000 friends on Facebook. I follow a younger guy on Twitter who often posts like 35 tweets each and every day. A a lot of my younger friends who use Twitter, follow like 600 people or more. I just can't keep up. Hell, I don't even know if anyone actually reads this blog. Of course, I don't really care if anyone reads it, per se: this blog is my Diary-in-the-Cloud and it gives me a chance to get back into the habit of writing (nearly) every day. That said, a friend of mine actually did ask me if I had a blog where I am writing about my faith-walk. (I wonder if he is reading these words?)

Is this perception of social dislocation some sort of mark of having turned 40 years old in May 2011? I don't know anyone older than I who maintains such a continuously active social-media connection: it seems that people I know who are social-media multitasking fiends were all born after 1975.

Maybe, just maybe, I am an actual adult now? Jesus Mary & Joseph... these kids nowadays... Lord, just put me on a boat with an iPod full of 80s techno-pop and JS Bach, sail it into the open ocean, then firebomb it like in Viking-days. Ack!

That settles it. Time for chocolate chip cookies dipped in Nutella.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Life continues to percolate.

The state of CA is working on retroactively restoring my benefits... the weather seems to have settled into a nice moderately cool summer pattern... my mother continues to be an absolute angel with helping me out... a particular quirk of the way I type has made itself known, as I kinda broke the upper-right Delete key on my MacBook (it's not functionally broken per se, it's just kinda cattywampus from repeated angled hard-strike attack)... my annoying neighbor is still annoying the faeces out of me... I'm still needing work... and all that jazz.

The final Harry Potter movie opens in less than a week. I still haven't seen the two films after Order Of The Phoenix; I own Half-Blood Prince on DVD but I don't even have a copy of Deathly Hallows Part One yet. Sigh. I thought I was better at sustaining an epic commitment than that. Of course, I am sustaining my commitment to Christ -- at least I am trying my best to do so -- so I s'spose I shouldn't complain.

As Willow once said in a freaky episode of Buffy... bored now... ;)

Scourge Of Dualism In Technology

Several weeks ago I started this blog to document my faith-walk, using my Blogger account. I even designed a spiffy forward-looking ministerial business card featuring mini-logos for Facebook, Twitter, and Blogger. Almost as if in response to me, Google has announced that they are going to retire the Blogger brand, therefore bringing up the chance of a new logo before I've even gotten my spiffy new business card printed. FFS. Then the Zuckertwat [see earlier post] announces that "something awesome" was coming to Facebook this week, while Google launches Google+ which is clearly designed to take on Facebook and Twitter. And along we go...

Dvorak versus QWERTY.

EightTrack versus Cassette.

VHS versus Betamax.

Mac versus PC.

AOL versus CompuServe.

AIM versus YahooMessenger.

Microsoft versus Netscape.

Yahoo versus Google.

Gateway versus Dell.

Oracle i9 versus Microsoft MySQL.

BluRay versus HD-DVD.

Verizon versus AT&T.

DirecTV versus Dish.

... and now, it's looking like...

Google+ versus Facebook.

And the beat goes on.

Dualistic "format wars" in tech-history share one brutal truth: arrogant rich people associated with marketing & branding get richer while the rest of us -- people who do actual work for a living -- continue along, trying to keep our homes, feed ourselves, and not sink into despair.

I liked my business card layout just the way it was. Thanks a lot, assholes.

Something Completely Different

Every once in a while, the awesome comedian Loni Love will pick a topic on her Twitter feed and initiate a trending-topic cascade. Yaknow, posting something funny with a hash-tag and getting people to respond creatively with the hope of her choosing to retweet your tweet? Anyway, the other day's topic was four words that you might utter after having sex. Now I am a fairly creative guy, but something about that topic really clicked with my carnal mind. In short... I. Went. Hog. WILD.

Submitted for your salacious reading pleasure:

#fourwordsaftersex "HELL to the no!" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Did you just fart?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Clean that shit up." 

#fourwordsaftersex "And your name is?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Go home now, bitch." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Get the hell out." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Where are my cigarettes?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "I have had bigger." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Ever heard of SANTORUM?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "What were you expecting?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Straight guy, bent hole." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Still think you're straight?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "That hole's better... see?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Next time stay quiet." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Next time stay awake." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Future deliveries in rear." 

#fourwordsaftersex "I liked it there." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Who taught you that?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Where'd your friend go?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Bring your brother tomorrow." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Your brother was better." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Your father was better." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Your son was better." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Prince would be proud." 

#fourwordsaftersex "No, he's not dead." 

#fourwordsaftersex "You come here often?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Tastes great! Less filling!"

#fourwordsaftersex "Did you break it?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Eight ball. Rear pocket." 

#fourwordsaftersex "What's your hourly rate?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Do you take DiscoverCard?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "The sex tape's better." 

#fourwordsaftersex "Boom goes the dynamite." 

#fourwordsaftersex "I... like... big... BUTTS" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Whoomp! There It Is!" 

#fourwordsaftersex "My hips don't lie." 

#fourwordsaftersex "That's NOT eleven inches." 

#fourwordsaftersex "You're really a Congressman?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "You're really an intern?" 

#fourwordsaftersex "Damn you, brown liquor!"

And finally, to honor Independence Day and those who fight for our freedom...

#fourwordsaftersex "Don't ask don't tell." 

Προς Γαλάτας • God For All

Yoda in the Empire Strikes Back, laughing, with Luke Skywalker's pen-light.

Yesterday (Sunday 7/3/2011) I attended the afternoon church service at City Of Refuge ("COR"). It is an inner-city UCC congregation in San Francisco, near the corner of 6th and Howard Streets in the transition zone between SoMa and the Tenderloin. Definitely a neighborhood where Jesus would have ministered.

Being that it was the middle of a holiday weekend, attendance was not so high. But that was OK because these folks have some hard-core Jesus up in that place!

The fabulicious Bishop Yvette Flunder -- a black lesbian -- founded COR in direct response to anti-gay theology in the black community, as well as in response to the reprehensible lack of compassion shown to people with HIV/AIDS. COR focuses on being intentionally radically inclusive. And I *like* it.

There were old Mexican lesbians. There was a transgender lady whose mini-skirt was more mini than skirt. There were old African American church ladies, dressed to the nines. There were some younger black folks, also spiffily dressed. There was a plain ol' white lesbian or two, some Asian ladies, a lot of "obviously gay" black folk, and a few -- two -- hella f'ing hot gay white men ... well, one of them was hot and the other one was... well, let's just say that if an artist drew a rendition of the perfect man for me, it would look like this guy. I could not take my eyes off him. Sigh... and I even think there were a few straight people, eek! ;)

There was dancing in the aisles. There was gospel-singing. There was cheering, clapping, hootin-and-hollerin'. There were "can I get an AMENs" galore. And there was love. Genuine, all-embracing, unapologetic, bold, inclusive, STAND UP AND CLAIM YOUR PLACE AMONG GOD's BELOVED CHILDREN kinda love. "When you bought the ticket for the cruise, you bought the whole package. Walk up to the buffet and claim all of it. Take some of that glory over there, some of that joy right here, a full serving of the Salvation stew. It's all-you-can-eat. The WHOLE package." Liberation Theology at its finest!

The people at COR are serious Pentecostalists in the best way imaginable. The gift of the Cross, and the salvation that poured out on the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit first descended into humankind, is still propagating outward from the Source. Thank God in Heaven for that.

I knew it was going to be a special experience from very early in the service:

Sitting at Peet's Coffee with my seminary-buddy Lee before the service, we talked about the power of Paul's Epistle to the Galatians and how it sits at the centerpiece of both my own walk into Christianity and historically was one of the prime inspirations for a guy named Martin Luther. God smiled. The New Testament scripture from which the opening of the service was framed... was... the portion of Galatians Chapter 5 about freedom in Christ.

Can I get an AaaaayA-men?!