Tuesday, April 29, 2014

The Unexpected

This is a guest blog by Ann Basil*, a law enforcement officer who works in Southern California.       

      No one expected the earthquake. It came unannounced and, without discretion, scattered everything violently. The quake came when I was not home. I return hours later to broken glass and tiles on the floor, the contents of cupboards and shelves strewn about, cracked walls, and a garage door that no longer functioned. Had I been told an earthquake was coming? Well … sure, look where I live. But I was not expecting it. I had not prepared, not really. A few days later I stacked my surviving bowls on the cupboard shelf and wondered, would these make it through the next quake?

            Two weeks later I found myself staring contemplatively downrange at handgun targets some 35 yards away. On my right was a tall, buff, swat operator. We were in training, and the current afternoon’s topic was combat shooting (how to shoot at bad guys who are shooting back). The week before, this same swat guy had dangled out of a helicopter, trying to get a shot at a man who felt the need to wandering around a quiet neighborhood, threatening people with his shotgun. The man had been taken into custody. “Yup,” the swat guy spit some of his chew on the ground, “it’s coming.”

            I squinted at the pieces of paper that represented murderers. “I just hope I’m there when it does happen. I would rather have it be me than one of my partners who can’t shoot.”

            The swat guy gently shaped his next wad of tobacco leaves and nestled them lovingly in his lower gum line, “That’s exactly how I feel. And it’s coming. There is some crazy person out there who is going to try and shoot up our people. But when he does, I am going to be ready. I’m going to get him.” We went through a few more hours of practicing cover fire and moving in leapfrog fashion down the range, killing paper bad guys as we went. We would be ready.

            The next Monday morning found me frowning as I read my Bible, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some as in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another – and all the more as you see the Day approaching … In just a little while, he who is coming will come and will not delay.” Before, to me, Hebrews had always read like a happy, “running with perseverance the race,” sort of read. Reading it today, however, worried my heart. My mind flashed back to the glass shattered on my floor, and the faith the swat guy had in the crazies that was so strong that he dedicated his life to training for that one day. And here, Jesus was coming, like a thief in the night. In just a little while. With no delay.

            My heart, like my house and my trigger finger, was not ready. Sure, I am a Christian. Sure, I love Jesus. Sure, I’ve been baptized. But I surely am not preparing for Jesus’ return as if it were real. I am not living daily as if I were about to be judged by the Almighty. There are shelved items in my heart that will fall and smash. There are reactions that I still need to practice and program into my heart so that they are automatic responses. There are strategies for living in a faithful manner that I have not mapped out and implemented. The coming of Christ, or the end of my life, will come without my preapproval. But it will come. I need to start living faithfully in expectation of this unexpected.



*a pseudonym.

Monday, April 28, 2014

thoughts on traveling

photo credit: Betsy Barber
I tend to be a bit of a homebody; I like traveling while I'm doing it, but the idea of planning a trip rarely sounds attractive.

I think some of this is probably because I grew up traveling a lot. I was born in the States, but my earliest memories - my two or three toddler memories - are of Mexico, where my family lived while my parents trained to become missionaries. Then we moved to the sub-arctic of Canada, that snowy, scrubby landscape where all my young childhood memories live. And I have lots and lots and lots of memories of all the road trips between Canada and the States. Practically the whole western half of the States. A lot. With long stays in Oregon here and there.

So, that might be part of why I like staying home. I already have traveled. A lot.

I still like seeing new places, though, and I'm always ready to go to the mountains - any mountains. So I do still travel. And I want my kids - who aren't growing up as MK's - to know the world outside of their home city.

Still, travel doesn't feel like travel is a virtue, exactly, and I know some people see it that way.

And I can see why. Travel is horizon-broadening, pretty literally. I know that living in a different country - even one you think is as familiar as Canada or Mexico - can really change your view of the world. In a good way. Most MK's I know (as well as military brats and other former ex-pats), are both grounded and easy-going in a really particular kind of way. It's like we've lost enough and experienced enough that we know both what we really do care about, and what doesn't actually matter at all.

But travel has its limits. There's a virtue to staying in one place, too. Sometimes, when I hear people extolling the virtues of travel, and how experiencing all those cultures has made them better people, I think, Yes, but all of your experiences in these countries, with all these new cultures, are yours due to the virtue of people who stay in one place.

People who stay in one place. That's a group that makes up most of humanity, I think. Anywhere you travel, you're going to experience the culture of the people who actually live there. Who make their homes there. Whose grandparents have been buried there and whose children probably will be, too.


There's a virtue to travel. But what people would you meet when you travel if there wasn't anyone who stayed in one place?

I'm kind of glad I've had the chance to do both.

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Weekend Links: Easter, Feminism, and more!

"The City Podcast: How to Go from Fasting to Feasting": I really enjoyed this particular podcast about the start of Easter - and about the real meaning of Easter.

"Next Year in Jerusalem":
But for us kids, there was no incongruity: Growing up Hebrew Catholics just meant having much more FUN on Easter than anyone else. My Christian friends wore straw hats, ate jelly beans, and maybe dyed eggs if their mothers could abide the mess. We, on the other hand, whooped it up for an entire weekend as we prepared for and celebrated the Passover seder, the ceremonial feast which Jesus ate with his disciples at the Last Supper. At our seder, which we held on Holy Saturday, there was chanting and clapping, giggling over the mysterious and grisly ceremonial roasted egg and horseradish root, glass after glass of terrible, irresistible sweet wine, special silver and china that only saw the light of day once a year, pillows for the chairs so we could “recline,” and the almost unbearable sweetness as the youngest child asked, “Why is this night different from all other nights?”
"Yes, we still need feminism":
This is why we need feminism. Because someone needs to fight back, to tell these people, men and women: STOP. This is not what women are for. This is now how it’s supposed to go. This is not how life gets carried on. This is no life, for women or for men.
"What You Can Learn from Calvin and Hobbes about the Message and the Medium":
Bill Watterson undertook a number of worthy crusades during the decade in which he made comic strip history –what fan of the Sunday Comics section can forget his epic battle to get the funnies printed at a decent size?– and he railed against “the cheapening of the comics” on a number of fronts. But it was his decision not to extract his characters from their natural setting and transfer them to “bedsheets and boxer shorts” that provides us all with an unforgettable living parable of artistic integrity.

Finally, I love this video about bullet journaling. It's such a cool concept - I'm going to start trying it this week!

Thursday, April 24, 2014

the now and the not yet

photo credit: Betsy Barber
One of the reasons I love St. Francis de Sales so much is, well, his reasonableness.  Today's quotation is much about realism, about acknowledging what we are, and what we aren't, and being content with that:
. . . sometimes we occupy ourselves so much in being good angels that we neglect being good men and women. Our imperfection must accompany us to our coffin; we cannot walk without touching earth. We are not to lie or wallow there, but still we are not to think of flying. For we are but little chicks, and have not our wings yet. We are dying little by little, so we are to make our imperfections die with us day by day: dear imperfections, which make us acknowledge our misery and exercise us in humility, contempt of self, patience, and diligence, and in spite of which God regards the preparation of our hearts, which is perfect.
-St Francis de Sales, from Thy Will Be Done: Letters to Persons in the World
The Lord is pleased to have us be ourselves, and for those selves to be His.

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

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Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Passover and Pascha: an interview with Natasha Pittle


Me: Hi folks! Today I have the pleasure of welcoming to the blog my friend and fellow parishioner, Natasha Pittle. Natasha and her family are Anglican Christians; her husband Kevin is a Jewish believer and the family enjoys celebrating their Jewish heritage. When Natasha and I were cleaning up after a church service together, she remarked on the similarities between the work we were doing, and the work she does to prepare for Pesach (Passover).

I thought that what she had to say was so interesting that I wanted to share it with my readers, and so I asked if she'd be willing to be interviewed for the blog, and she very kindly agreed. Thanks, Natasha!

Natasha: Hi!  I'm glad to be getting the chance to share some of these traditions.  It should be a fun and interesting discussion!  Our celebration of Passover is of course greatly impacted by our belief in Jesus as the Jewish Messiah.  We try to keep many of the ancient traditions, especially those with a directly biblical basis.  Other practices seem very strange, even to me (as I don't have a Jewish background), but it is fun to explore them and incorporate them when we can.

Me: You and I first talked about the subject when we were cleaning up after a communion service together. Can you tell me how that "holy housework" reminded you of preparing your own home to celebrate Passover?

Natasha: The similarities struck me as we were washing the items used during the service-- I was not raised an Anglican and had never participated on an Altar Guild before (though I'm guessing that the high church Lutheran congregation I grew up in was probably fairly similar), so the piscina was completely new to me... and yet it wasn't.  [Jessica’s note: The piscina is a sink found in traditional Protestant & Roman Catholic churches that drains directly to the ground. All dishes and linens used in the communion service are rinsed in this sink.] There was a definite connection for me between the idea of needing to rinse any possible consecrated element directly down into the earth and the traditions of kashrut (kosher practices) and especially Passover preparations. 

The earliest connections, Kevin tells me, potentially go back to Leviticus 17.  The blood from the sacrifices had to be drained and buried in the earth (not consumed)-- the blood sprinkled on the altar also presumably eventually washed down into the ground.  Some sources also speak of a stream consisting of the waste water from the temple (ritual handwashing, cleansing of sacrificial implements, etc.) that flowed into a reservoir, possibly the Pool of Bethesda (yes, the pool that was periodically stirred by an angel and in which healing could take place).  Once any water, wine, or blood was used, it had to be returned to the earth-- it could not be reused for any form of human consumption. The elements, however,were considered to be "renewed" by being in the earth; living/moving water (from a spring or stream) had to be used for handwashing. At one point, faced with water shortages, the clever Pharisees created a machine to lower the reserve water vessels into a hollow in the earth each night, so that it could be considered fresh ground water in the morning! The handwashing of the priest by the deacon, by the way, comes directly from the Levites washing the hands of the Kohanim (priests) in the temple.

Once the temple was destroyed (shortly after Jesus' ascension), the Rabbis created all sorts of additional practices around the 613 commandments so that Jews would know how to remain as Jewish as possible in the face of dispersal all over the planet.  These writings (in the Talmud and other books) became known as the "fence around the Torah", a way to make absolutely sure to the best of your ability that you were not breaking a commandment, even inadvertently.  This is how the biblical law "Thou shalt not boil a kid [baby goat] in its mother's milk", a proscription meant to forbid a specific pagan practice, became the general forbidding of the mixing of milk and meat (a basic kosher tradition) and eventually, in more modern times "Thou shalt not eat chicken parmesan"-- although fish and milk is just fine.  The idea of the fence around the torah is to avoid the possibility of even appearing to break a commandment.

Most people are familiar with the most basic tenets of the kosher diet-- no mixing of milk and meat, and no pork products.  There is actually much more to it (such as the specific way the animals are slaughtered, humanely and draining as much blood as possible), but what many people do not see is the work that goes into keeping a kosher household (I don't, heaven help me!).  It may seem strange to have to rinse everything over the piscina, and stranger still that at times it is obviously symbolic (the wine cloths are still stained when they go into the laundry)!

Any kosher Jewish household will take great pains to keep milk and meat separate.  This means two entirely separate areas of the kitchen-- at the very least separate dishes and silverware, but preferably dedicated cookware, two different refrigerators and pantries, possibly two stoves and dishwashers.  In fact, the ideal (if you're wealthy enough and truly dedicated) is to have two entire separate kitchens.  Can a defiled dish be purified?  Sure, if you bury in the ground for a few years!  Although, upon doing research, Kevin says this is likely a Jewish "old wives' tale"-- every actual document he can find says that a defiled implement must be destroyed.  If the object is sacred (such as a Torah scroll or ceremonial vessel) and is worn out or defiled, it must be buried and cannot be reused.

It steps up even more for Passover.  Any possible leavened (yeast-raised) product is out.  Most get rid of baking-soda leavening as well.  Actually, some Orthodox households won't even cook with matzoh (unleavened bread) for fear it could swell up with moisture and pick up leavening from the air.  Sephardic  (Middle-Eastern) Jews say it's fine to eat beans, peas, rice; Ashkenazim (European Jews) say absolutely not (we keep Sephardic rules-- I can't do eight days of matzoh without hummus and peanut butter). 

From the biblical "the bread didn't have time to rise" to "take hours and days and weeks to make sure that the bread doesn't rise..." Fence around the Torah!  A huge "spring cleaning" takes place to get rid of any trace of leavening (chometz)-- back corners of cupboards, under the stove and fridge, carpets, draperies, even pouring bleach behind floorboards and into cracks to make the chometz unfit to be eaten (yes, poison yourself rather than ingest a crumb of bread by mistake!).  The tradition is to sweep up some final ceremonial chometz (bread crusts, etc.) with a feather and burn it the evening before Passover starts.  Chometz may literally be completely exiled from the house, or it may be packed into a locked cupboard and ceremonially "sold" to a gentile friend for the duration of Passover, so that it is not technically in the family's possession even though it's still in the house.  Now get this: Some households may literally have three or even four whole kitchens-- dedicated ones for Passover that are locked up the rest of the year.  Our family doesn't go anywhere near this far, but the idea of separation, of consecrated items needing special treatment, definitely seemed familiar and comfortable once I got used to it.

Me: Natasha, that is all fascinating! I’m grateful to learn more about all of these traditions.

Natasha: Kevin also suggests the following book: Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper.  Ooh, that subtitle sounds all Dan Brown-ish!  It's not, though-- the author's name is Brant Pitre.

Me: Love it!  :)  Thank you so much, Natasha!

Monday, April 21, 2014

Weekend links: weather, HELLP, and more

I'm sorry for the lateness of these weekend links! I was overwhelming (in a good way) by Holy Week and all its attendant church services.  But I wish you the very happiest of Easters! Our Lord is risen!

And now, for a few links, for your reading pleasure:

"El Niño Could Grow Into a Monster, New Data Show": important news, especially for those of us who live near the Pacific!

"The Reason for My Lack of Posting Lately": Jen writes about her experience of HELLP Syndrome, in hopes of raising awareness.

"Shop Talk":
“Carve” is the operative word here, not “balance.” It was a difficult life, in which I often realized that although I identified myself as a writer first, that didn’t match the reality. If the baby was crying, he got first attention; if the class needed preparing, that was next. Often the leftover third-energy was just not enough. I call myself a slow writer, but in fact the writing comes pretty fast. It was the getting to it that dogged my teaching days. The rewriting is a long process, but it doesn’t take the same kind of preparedness as early drafts. It’s just work, so I can take it on at once and spend long hours at it.
"A Better Way to Say Sorry":
But what alternative do you have? What else are you supposed to do? It’s not like you can force a genuine apology and repentant heart out of him, right?
"Creeping to the Cross (At Home)": some kind words from one of my former professors.


Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Holy Week Links

I usually don't post links until the weekend, but I've run across a couple of good things recently that both so good and so timely that I didn't want to wait till Saturday to post them.

First, is Ann Dominguez's meditation "Willing in the Garden". It is all amazing, but her observation that the exhaustion she thought was caused by her work was actually caused by having to deal with sin . . . well that was just revelatory to me.

Second is Anne Kennedy's post "It's Holy Week", full of the goodness and realism that all her posts are full of, but I found it particularly encouraging as I face all the services and surprises of the week ahead, still wanting to (to paraphrase Dickens) keep Holy Week in my heart.

Finally, if you're not subscribing to the blog Lent and Beyond, you're missing out. The collection of prayers and music they've gathered there is a treasure trove.


Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell