Image of wall hanging. Original by Rev. Lia Scholl.

Pentecost was yesterday. My favorite Christian holy day. While it’s not the shiniest, or the loudest, or even the most significant (some would say) theologically, it’s still my favorite. Pentecost has great elements: fire, heat, light, freedom, wind, caring, and preaching.

But best of all, Pentecost has the Holy Spirit.  

In my early Christian years (the second time around), I used to be very happy with God. And I really liked Jesus. But the Holy Spirit scared the crap out of me. The Holy Spirit seems to indicate to me  passion, overflowing, and a lack of control. Uh. For a control freak like me, being out of control doesn’t sound good at all.

I’ll be real clear. I don’t want to be out of control. No speaking in tongues for me!

But through the years, I’ve come to love and celebrate the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is the thing that puts church together, bringing planned and unplanned elements to give the people what they need. The Holy Spirit is when you pick up a book that says just the right thing you need to hear right in that moment. The Holy Spirit is the text message from a friend that says, “I’m holding you in the light today,” just when you need to hear it. The Holy Spirit is fire and light and heat and wind, but it’s also breath and gentleness and clarity and truth.

I listened to Krista Tippett’s On Being yesterday, to an interview with Andrew Zolli, a thinker from PopTech. He said that research shows that when traumatic events happen (and let’s admit that Jesus being crucified on a cross was a traumatic event), one-third to two-thirds of people will not be traumatized by the event. What makes the difference? Resilience. And resilience is determined by three things: 1) your social connections, 2) how well you love, and 3) how you use resources. All three things brought up in Acts 2:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

So Pentecost, along with being the coming of the Holy Spirit, being a feast day, being the day that the Torah was given, is also God’s own Resilience Project.

image via raggedshirts

Mother’s Day has just passed. Families around the United States gave their mothers flowers, beautiful handmade cards, and breakfast in bed.

You know what else they gave mothers? Primary responsibility for their children, including financial and caregiving responsibilities.

You know what they didn’t give mothers? They didn’t give them access to affordable childcare, extra family leave for children with special needs, or even equal wages. 

Working mothers deserve celebration. They also deserve a break.

P.S. Here’s an interesting piece from a sex worker who has lost custody of her children due to sex work … and although Michaels makes the point that legal sex workers don’t lose custody of their children because of sex work, it is sometimes one of the factors that judges use against mothers in custody battles.

image by Nationaal Archief

I’ve just read the amazing story of Martha Mullen, who arranged for the body of the elder Boston bomber brother’s body to be buried in Doswell, Virginia. It’s a courageous act, after all the controversy that burying Tamerlan Tsarnaev has created. A Boston Globe interview says:

“[The protests] portrayed America at its worst,” she said in an interview with the Globe this morning. “The fact that people were picketing this poor man [Stefan] who was just trying to help really upset me.”

Mullen, a licensed professional counselor who has lived in Richmond for most of her life, said she was sitting in a Starbucks Tuesday when it hit her: She could be the one to end the controversy.

“Jesus says [to] love our enemies,” said Mullen, who holds a degree from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. “So I was sitting in Starbucks and thought, maybe I’m the one person who needs to do something.”

Sometimes I wonder about Jesus’ words, if he even knew some of the things we ourselves know, about pluralism, community, boundaries, and loving people. I wonder if Jesus said, “Love your enemies,” because he understood that there is no such thing as enemies. There are just other humans, living and dying with the choices they make.

Isn’t that the lesson of Jesus’ life, in so many ways? That we are going to live and die with the choices we make? And that perhaps, today, “Maybe I’m the one person who needs to do something.” Maybe, when you see a car accident, you’re the one person who needs to do something. Maybe, when you see someone picking on someone else, you’re the one person who needs to do something. Maybe, when you see injustice in the world, you’re the one person who needs to do something.

It took a lot of courage to do something this big. And it’s probably going to take a lot more courage to take the criticism that Martha Mullen will receive. But I, for one, applaud that courage. And wish I had some of the same.

Making my way to the top of the river. Join me? (image via Irargerich)

It’s been a while since I blogged. So I thought I’d do a quick update to catch you up on the goings-on in my life.

Cover Art for “I Heart Sex Workers”

First, I Heart Sex Workers: A Christian Response to People in the Sex Trade has hit the virtual bookshelves. You can find it at Chalice Press or Amazon. And while I thought it might create a little shitstorm, no such thing has happened. Leaving me both relieved and a little disappointed! No, really, I’m pleased with the book and would love to hear your thoughts.

Second, I’ve begun a new job at Friends of Guest House in Northern Virginia. We’re a residential transitional facility for women exiting the corrections system in Virginia. As of today, we serve nine women at a time, providing case management, job and life skill improvement, and helping the women find jobs, mental health support, addiction communities, and helping them transition back into their families and lives.

Last summer, I participated in a gathering called Healing and Rebuilding Our Communities (HROC), which was my first foray into understanding trauma and its impact on my own life and the lives of others. My experience with HROC impelled me to look for ways to heal. So I’ve been meeting with a Cranio Sacral Massage practitioner, which has really facilitated a lot of healing.

Through these practices, and through educational experiences at my new job, I’m gathering a small understanding of the impact of trauma in our lives. Which has impacted significantly my understanding of our correctional system, and the people who are there.

I’m now going to return to blogging. And while I still have a great interest in sex workers, and the things going on in the activist communities, I’m also going to be posting here about issues related to women, trauma, and our corrections system.

I’ve long looked at the work of accompaniment (that’s walking alongside people as they go through crises and change) I’ve done with sex workers as “pulling bodies from the river.” The forces that impact their lives are so great, so systemic, and so ingrained, that they are drowning. For some, I’ve reached out a hand, for others, I’ve jumped in the river with them, floating alongside. But writing, helps me go to the top of the river, to scream at the top of my lungs, “Stop throwing bodies in the river!” I hope you’ll join me.

I wrote this on December 18, 2007:

I didn’t know her, but her life informed my life as much as anyone ever has. All the news reports said she was an exotic dancer, and they flashed a stock photo of a strip club on the screen. The weekend report asked people to look for her. The next weekend reports showed her former boyfriend and security guard being taken into police custody. Then the morning news reported that they had found her body, next to the wicker footlocker that her killer had carried her body in, buried in a shallow grave.

The news reports left a lot out–they didn’t say how open-hearted she was. They didn’t mention how she was hoping to get into real estate. They didn’t mention her friends, how much she liked to laugh, how she could make you feel like you were the only person in the room when she was with you.

The news reports were also wrong. They implied that she worked at a club, but an internet search showed that she was a private dancer.

When I heard about her, I decided to visit the club where she had worked, mistakenly still thinking that she was working at a club. I prepared Easter baskets with sweets and stuffed animals, and notes of “Thinking of You.” I discovered that she wasn’t working in a club, so I ditched the condolence cards and randomly picked a club to visit. The friend that I visited with asked, “Will you mention her to the bouncer at the door?” “No,” I responded, “no need. They don’t know her.”

But I did mention her to the goomba bouncer who was standing at the door. I told him that I was visiting in memory of her. He paused, looked me square in the eyes, with a tear forming in his left one, and said, “She worked here until six months ago.”

In memory of Emily Cagal, March 2005.

Today is the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. This day is a response to the Green River Killer’s suggestion that he killed scores of sex workers because no one cared about them, or noticed that they were gone. You can learn more about it here.

For today only, Chalice Press and I am offering I Heart Sex Workers at a discounted price, in honor of The International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. The epub or epdf book is $2.99 here. Enter Heart1217 as the promo code.

According to the an article in the New York Times, a Nevada brothel owner has been elected to a seat on the Storey County Board of Commissioners. Lance Gilman, the owner of the Mustang Ranch is entering politics.

There are some who believe that brothel owners should be seen and not heard, but others who believe that because brothels are legal and legitimate businesses in Nevada, owners should participate fully in the political process. I particularly like this statement from a bartender:

“You can’t hold it against a person that they’re involved in a profession that’s been in existence since before Jesus walked around in his sandals,” said Corrie Northan, 46, a bartender at the Bucket of Blood Saloon in Virginia City, the county seat. “This state was formed from gambling, drinking and brothels and there’s no shame in that.”

So what do you think? Are the brothel owners “too legit to quit?”

It’s not about trafficking. It’s not about trafficking. It’s not about trafficking.

My new book, I Heart Sex Workers: A Christian Response to People in  the Sex Trade is available as an eBook, as of this weekend. And guess what?!?

It’s not about trafficking.

Yes. Trafficking is awful.

Yes. Trafficking is massively unjust.

Yes. Trafficking is very sexy right now.

This book is not about trafficking. It’s about women, including trans women, and men who are trading sex, whether by choice, circumstance or coercion (or more likely, all three) who are not trafficked, but are, instead, people who are trading sex for something they need or want.

What’s the difference? Sex work is WORK not slavery. Sex work doesn’t have as many sexy people (okay, really, I don’t think Ashton Kucher is sexy, but you know!) advocating for the individuals involved. Also, sex workers may not be helped (and may, in fact, be harmed) by anti-trafficking legislation that’s so popular right now.

Want to know more? Well, you can order the Kindle edition here , and other eBook versions here.

I’ve participated in a bunch of rituals. From creating them, to fixing them, to just letting someone else create them, and rituals have an amazing amount of power. Unless you do them wrong. I can think of a lot of ways they were done wrong.

At a local Transgender Day of Remembrance service I attended, the participants read out the names of the trans women and men who had been killed that year, then lit candles. You would think that would be moving. It would have been, but the room was sunny and bright. And lighting candles is an act of power, putting candles out is an act of remembrance. It felt like we were adding light, rather than losing the light of the lives of very precious people.

I’ve been to interfaith services created to recognize and lament the death of people (like 9/11 services) where it’s been more about introducing the individuals in the arena who have power than it is about recognizing our loss of power through death. When the first speaker gets up to speak for 15 minutes and you realize that he or she is only really introducing the next speaker, who will then take 22 minutes to introduce the next speaker. Those really just become ego fests, and not really rituals.

I’ve been services on Dec. 17, the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers that have been so politicized that I’ve not felt like it was  ritual at all, but rather a political rally.

When you create a ritual, ask yourself what your purpose is. Are you there for politicized reasons? Make sure you call it a rally or march, not a service. Are you there to introduce the powerful people, or to show off your inclusivity? Then, by all means, please cancel your service. No one needs to be there for that. Are you there to remember people who have died? Are you there to help people who are grieving? Are you there to help people come to terms with their own pain? Are you there to empower someone to come forward, to confess their sins or to admit the truth about their lives? For example, a service of remembrance for intimate violence survivors might have two purposes: to help those grieving the loss of their own safety and to help those currently suffering from intimate violence have the strength to find a way out.

Next, make sure that the elements of your ritual are in line with that purpose. A celebration of graduation should have different elements than a service of remembrance. There’s a seminary here, called the Baptist Theological Seminary of Richmond, and they give each graduate a towel, engraved with their name, as a symbol of the service that the graduates will do in ministry—a symbol of leadership that begins with washing the feet of your charges. For services of remembrance, many symbols can work, but tolling a bell, snuffing candles, and silence work great.

Honor safety and silence. Please, please, please. Never ask anyone to admit anything on the spot. Don’t ask for a show of hands. Don’t laugh at people. Don’t make light of a serious subject. Don’t endanger the safety of people by outing them. And don’t give people’s real names and real addresses, ever.

Be attuned to the needs of the congregation or audience. I heard of a funeral one time where they did an open mic. The decedent was a loyal, loving, amazing gay man, and he had, throughout his life, changed people’s minds about homosexuality. He had an amazing way about him, that I can’t explain. Anyway, at his service, they gave people an opportunity to speak. A young man stood up to the microphone, began crying, and then confessed, “I’m gay.” He wasn’t out, he had never told anyone. Was this really the time to do that? It’s not that the young man was wrong to come out at a funeral. But his emotions probably got ahead of his brain, and he outed himself in a space with no support. Did anyone follow up with the young man? I don’t know…

Honor emotions, but don’t play with them. It’s easy to manipulate an audience into feeling something sad. It’s even easy to get them to react with anger. But ritual is about feeling what they already feel, not creating new emotions. A service of remembrance is for people who are already saddened about the death of loved ones. Give an outlet to feel those emotions people already feel, don’t create new ones for them to deal with.

Honor traditions. There’s a reason why people start crying at certain hymns. Those hymns remind them of other situations where loved ones have died, or where strong emotions have been felt. There’s a reason why ritual works: it doesn’t just tag our emotions right in that moment, but it brings emotions from the past into play, too. Feeling emotions is good. And those traditional means to do it is good, too. Singing a song to the tune of Amazing Grace (with more appropriate lyrics) can be good. Or saying the Lord’s Prayer or the Shema can be good, too. Even if everyone doesn’t share the same tradition, those traditions can be healing for some, and can be transitioned into good emotions for others.

Ask for help. If you’ve been given the task of creating a ritual, call a local clergy person. We do this for a living. We like ritual. For many of us, the power of ritual is one reason we’re clergy.

Bad rituals suck. They can have the opposite effect of good rituals. I have left many a service feeling empty, angry, and even violated. And if someone feels that way at the end of your ritual, you’re doing that wrong.

Note to self: Come up with a better way to title these posts.

The third Sunday of the Narrative Lectionary has us learning about Joseph, the son of Jacob and Rachel, grandson of Isaac and Rebeka, and great grandson of Abraham. Read about him here.

There’s a myth that I have never believed. I never believe that violence is singularly motivated by jealousy. In the days following 9/11, people said that the attacks were because of jealousy. I think that is a far too simplistic idea. Certainly jealousy can be a factor, but what about anger over injustice? Yes, people may be angry that one country seems to have a large portion of the wealth, and that they lord that wealth over other nations. But is that jealous?

Many interpret that Joseph’s brothers are jealous of the attention he receives from his father—they would like more of his attention. But is this jealousy? Isn’t that more like sibling rivalry? Sure, it’s rooted in jealousy. But I have another theory. I think that perhaps Joseph is a jerk. So his father makes a coat with sleeves for him, a sign of his love, that he didn’t make for the other boys. In that case, though, who would the boys be angry with? I think they’d be angry with their father. Verse 37:4 says, “But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him.” Who is the antecedent for “him” in the second and third clauses? Is it Joseph or is it Jacob?

If it’s Jacob, then the act of violence against Joseph may have been an act of violence against their father, rather than against Joseph.

Another point of interest to me is that Joseph seems to lord it over his brothers, this special-ness he thinks he has. He wears the coat from this father, even just out to the fields for the day. He points out to them that he has a dream where they bow down to him. Perhaps Joseph was that kid that gets on all our nerves… the one without any humility, who brags about how great he is. Which is, ultimately, a sign that he feels less confident than he appears.

And we expect emotional maturity from twelve boys with a father who can’t conceal that he loves one of his children more than he loves the others?

Emotional maturity (she says as she is convinced it is eluding her) is the ability to manage our emotions, so that they do not become a stumbling block to others.

Years later, Joseph’s brothers sit in front of him begging for help. There is famine in their land, and they need their brother to provide relief for them. They tell him that their father has said, “Say to Joseph: I beg you, forgive the crime of your brothers and the wrong they did in harming you.’ Now therefore please forgive the crime of the servants of the God of your father.” Joseph wept when they spoke to him.”

That phrase right there stops me cold. They use the memory of their father to manipulate Joseph into helping them. Jacob mourned for Joseph as if he were dead. And yet, they intimate that they confessed their act of violence to Jacob.

I’m not sure it’s fair to expect that these young men will be emotionally mature. But I do believe that through the years Joseph becomes more emotionally mature.

What are your thoughts?

In an effort to get up-to-date on posting about the Narrative Lectionary (for more information, check here), I’m going to post a couple of thoughts this week, then post next Sunday’s sermon next week. Week 2 of the narrative lectionary covered Genesis 15:1-6.

This passage speaks as a visitation of God to Abram through a vision, reminding Abram of God’s covenant with him, and that he will have many descendents. My Hebrew study group and I struggled through this chapter, trying to get at a baseline for this passage, but kept coming back to the line, “And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness (NRSV).” A translation from the Hebrew could sound a bit more like this: “And he trusted in the Lord; and the Lord counted it as justice.”

There are two troubling words to translate in this passage. The first is וְהֶאֱמִ֖ן “he believed.” Because in English, believed has connotations of intellectual assent. That’s not what it means in Hebrew. A closer translation would be trusted, but even that is not really whole enough. The word is actually the verb form of faith. And not, “He had faith,” because that would be more passive and indirect. The best translation would be “and he faithed in the Lord.”

The second troubling word is צְדָקָֽה. We most often see this word translated at “righteousness,” but we are a people who do not value “righteousness.” For most of us, we think this word means self-righteous, a particularly heinous trait in a person. In Spanish, this word is generally translated justicia, justice. And it can be translated better as a “righteous act.” Or an act of justice.

So let’s try again, “And he (Abram) faithed in the Lord, and it was counted to him as a just act.”

Ultimately, faith in God is active, and it is a good work, and having faith is just.

In Abram’s life, we hear of five different visits from God, five different times that Abram’s faith has to be reassured. And yet, that faith that he (barely) had was a just act.