My Wonderings

Many people have been wondering with me about the purpose of Twitter. The Rev. Chuck Culpepper, of MS, likened it to the CB Radio of the Millenium; just a platform that allows many people to broadcast to many people. And it is that; but so much more. Back in the “BreakerBreakerGoodBuddy” days of old, one had to find a channel that was both static-free and one that your friends or others of value to you were also utilizing. With Twitter, static distraction is eliminated. Because of the search function, the number of available Twitter “channels” is equivalent to the total possible permutations of keys on the keyboard (letter/number/symbol.) Plus, there is no limit imposed by physical distance to a signal tower. Take a moment to wrap your brain around the implications! From anywhere in the world, anybody with internet access and a computer or smart phone can come together and have a conversation in real time. The only thing missing in Twitter (and I’m sure that will soon be resolved) is translating languages to your preference.

Those of us following the Episcopal Church General Convention 2009 created a “channel” entitled #ecgc. The acronym was for Episcopal Church General Convention. The # symbol is called a hashtag in twitter and it is used to indicate that this particular permutation of keystrokes is a deliberate combination formed for a specific group to track a conversation. We immediately realized that there were a few other streams of conversation about the convention being made so we formed a hub to gather all these streams together. Thus, the “Twub” was created at www.twubs.com/ecgc. This was a godsend for me; I didn’t have to remember to use my hashtag when I sent a message because it automatically added it for me. I could see the thumbprints of the pictures, videos and webpages that were linked with people’s messages without having to open the link at all. This made it easy to filter what I wanted to explore further. I could see a cool visual of our developing internet community through a grid of the faces/image associated with each Twitter account.

You may be wondering about the tweeps (people) who were part of this gathering. There were clergy and lay, conservative and liberal, young (20s) and not-so-old (60s), gay and straight, lovers of TEC and haters of TEC, attendees of convention and at-home folk like me. It was (go-figure) a gathering made up of folk much like the church! On the first day, we had a slam of porn spam that would have turned a blue-haired white. But that was quickly resolved by the Twub company who were probably more horrified and shocked than us Episcopalians! And we did have a “troll” try to impersonate “815″ but he or she was quickly exposed and we all campaigned to have that account terminated. If anything, that troll only accomplished bonding our group of disparate Anglicans together during a very contentious week.

And I know (from the many tweets of others) that I am speaking for many people when I say that there have been a lot of transformative moments in our little byte of the Twitterverse. Personally, I had an extraordinary exchange with a fellow priest from the diocese of TX who is a conservative greatly fearing the direction this convention is taking. We shared our stories, albeit in little 140 character chapters at at time. And in our exchange, I was healed a little bit more from some old wounds.

I witnessed folk ask for forgiveness when emotions got the best of them. I witnessed the previously uncomforted assure the previously comfortable that there would always be a warm welcome offered. I witnessed our group self-regulate by calling someone out when their tone became snarky. The group self-corrected when inaccurate information was given. The group collaborated when someone requested information that was not accessible to them. Our group self-organized with some folk volunteering to give play-by-play commentary for those without access to the GC HUB live feed. We even had internet DJs tweet dedicated song links to us. Some of our group were wondering if we could continue an online network of Episcopalians when convention concluded. To that I say: “That’s What I’m Talking About!!” Sign up at Episcopalians.pbworks.com to stay informed of our growing network.

And Warren, thanks for believing! Kurt and Joyce, thanks for making it happen. And to all my new friends: gideony, WhatOneCanDo, Kvoets, ktkimble, CarlosRAlvarado, scottagunn, JosephPMatthews, Liturgy, swancommarachel, gaytheologian, AuntScilly, bgclick, franklogue, davidrpeet, putmeinabox, GRobit625, loribythesea, FredinAtlanta, chaplain_mdiv10, mooregardening, Floridagordon, ktkimble, rrchapman, johnleesandiego, JeffreyShy, vagabondfaith, and a bunch more … thanks for being Church for me this week.

I know it’s cliché to write about the bittersweetness of your child (especially, the first) leaving the nest but when it’s your own Mother’sHeart, there’s nothing trite about it. I know there have been other milestones before — high school graduation, moving to college, graduating from college — but really, that’s all practice for this big one, the real one, the series finale. She begins the spinoff this week. I think it’ll be a hit. She’s ready; she’s that good. But I hate that I can only watch from afar as she learn’s to live life on life’s terms. Because I know what those terms can be. So I have a few hopes for her.

The first hope is about the community she makes for herself. Maybe it doesn’t even go without saying that she WILL have to make it for HERSELF. For surely, making community well for oneself is one of the most important grown-up skills. I wish friends for her that each represents a specific characteristic she wants to emulate e.g., courage, generosity, compassion, wisdom. I wish friends for her that are consciously on a path of self-awareness and support one another’s personal growth. I wish for her easy acceptance when friends rotate in and out of her life.

My second hope for her is a baseline expectation that “Life is Hard” as M. Scott Peck once wrote. That she won’t be surprised at being surprised and she will be a non-shockable presence among the most shocking. I hope she finds a healthy balance between cynicism and optimism. I hope she views reality through a minimum number of neurotic filters and forgive me for the distortion I have caused.

My third wish for her is a Polonius one, minus his hubris. I hope she finds integrity easier to master than I have. Or maybe, my wish is that she appreciate how truly difficult it is to master integrating one’s outward self with one’s inward reality and that a lot more people think they have integrity than actually do. I hope she realizes that most people won’t assume she’s as vulnerable as she is and therefore, will not be as careful with her feelings as they would if they really knew how deep they cut. I hope she learns that her only defense to this truth is to be non-defensive and transparent. And finally, I hope she has a secret pact with herself that she will never do or be in private differently than she would do or be in public.

Leaving on a jet plane – chantal kreviazuk

“In the world the powerful lord it over the others. This must not happen among you” (Luke 22:25-26).

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When I was growing up, the Sunday school children who were celebrating their birthdays in the upcoming week knelt at the altar rail for a special blessing by the priest. The priest would lay his warm, big hands on my head and ask God to “bless and guide me as my days increase; to strengthen me when I stand; comfort me when discouraged or sorrowful and raise me up when I fall.” What an amazing request: that God would pick me up if I fell down. Boy, that would help matters! I was so hopeful that God really would pick me up if I fell down. I hoped my brother and sisters would be there when it happened so they could see how much God loved me.  I hoped I’d remember to say “Thank You” afterward and  to be charming and memorable when we finally met.

Then I wondered why God hadn’t picked me up off the ground up to this point in my life if that’s what gods were supposed to do. I wondered if I had to fall in a terrible manner before God would take time out of (his) busy day to help me to my feet. Maybe I had to fall down a cliff and get snagged in a crag or something equally dramatic dramatic to warrant such extraordinary divine attention. After all, I had seen the picture of God’s son taking care of that lamb. I wondered if lambs were more worthy of God’s help than little girls like me who usually fell down because I was doing something stupid. Like running around the pool deck when I had been told many times that it was dangerous. Or falling out of a tree because I grabbed a limb that only a novice tree-climber would think could hold them. Or I was reading a library book while walking in line back to homeroom and tripped over a break in the sidewalk. I figured little girls fell and hurt their knee, elbows, and bottoms or their pride because they weren’t good girls. Lambs, on the other hand, seemed like innocent victims of circumstance. They just put their heads down and focused obediently on the task of munching grass when the ground suddenly disappeared beneath them. In my understanding, the lamb was in this precarious position because the shepherd had been negligent and not adequately supervised snack-time. God chose to intervene then because it was a matter of justice; a matter of restoring the balance.  

God never did pick me up like I wanted. And I fell a lot. Although mostly, other than scraped skin, the only thing that got hurt was my pride. That got bruised a lot. The only thing that helped my bruised pride was time and that didn’t work all the time. I still feel my face get warm remembering when I rode my bicycle straight into the back bumper of a car parked on the street curb. I had been looking intently to to the side at the tennis courts of the Pierremont Oaks to see if the love of my childhood was teaching a class. Unfortunately, he was. And my stomach still gets tight when I drive over the Horace Wilkinson Bridge to Baton Rouge. That’s the location of my first big-girl fall.

I had to drop out of college in October of my junior year because of clinical depression. For weeks I had been able to do nothing but lie in my bed and cry while my friends looked on in confusion and frustration. Eventually, the school authorities called my mother who had to drive the four hours from Shreveport to get me and my stuff and to help me officially withdraw from the university due to medical disability – sub-categorized “mental health issues.”  I was told I wouldn’t be able to return within a certain time frame without a psychiatric evaluation. As Mom and I were driving over that bridge, the shame of it all filled my stomach. I was crazy!  I was certifiable! I was a loser! I had failed. And everyone would now know that I couldn’t manage what was expected.  Where the hell was God now I wondered? Surely God could expend a little divine energy to set things right for me. Because, frankly, it did seem to me a matter of justice.

Prior to this depression I had become a fanatic of (His) Son. I had prayed the prayer of salvation. I had been re-baptized to get the immersion experience. I had prayed the Prayer of Salvation and followed the Roman Road. I had studied the Four Spiritual Laws and led numerous people to Christ. And now, when I’m in this much pain, couldn’t God bother to show up and pick me up? Really? What more did I have to do or be to be considered worth His time?

I am so human. And I hate that. But, I’m trying to learn to manage that disappointment. I’ve been trying to learn that since that day driving over the Horace Wilkinson bridge. The day I exposed my human-ness to my sorority sisters.  It’s been over twenty-five years now. A lot more people have found out I am human. When I’m not trying to keep that a secret, I feel free. Free to be me.  I eventually went back to college and did real well. I think I made A’s in part because I was free to fail since I knew I could survive it. God still hasn’t ever picked me up like I’ve always wanted — but I do get up. It just isn’t with ease or with grace or very quick. Have you ever seen a middle-aged, out-of-shape, never-ever snow skier try to right herself on a slope for the first time? Then you get the picture. It’s not a divine look if you’ll pardon the saying. Next time you have an opportunity, watch the adult never-evers on a bunny slope. And then ponder this: “God came down and was incarnate and made man” – just like that flailing fool in the powder blue parka. That makes me ROTFLMAO.

I feel free to laugh with my foibles because I take my freedom to be me very seriously. I take my freedom from depression with tremendous gratitude. I don’t always love my process but it is my process. It is a process that has taken me to where faith was not an experienced reality; to a place where I could do nothing but wait to see if God would pick me up. 

“Free To Be Me,” Francesca Battistelli

Reflection based on Center for Action and Contemplation series “Freedom”

• How has grace brought me freedom?
• How does one trust God’s process?
• What is free will to me?
• What experiences of love have set you free?

I probably should have anticipated that playing Zelda: Twilight Princess on the family Wii was my slippery slope into Geekdom. But I never would have guessed that the very technology that provided my indulgent and magical escape from the real world would also help ease me out of my isolating funk and to reconnect with friends, family and my vocation. And, as seems to be the predominate pattern of my life, this change came about through the dry, witty ways of God, Fate, or Mother Nature.

I am the mother of a kid who came of age during the extraordinary boom of the gaming industry.  His world was the World of Warcraft; he ignored family time to answer the Call of Duty. I nagged him about the anti-social effects of his obsessions and worried that he would not gain the skills he’d need to function as an adult in the real world.

Make Love, Not Warcraft

Nelson: Is that a computer game?
Randy: No, r-tard, it’s an MMORPG. These are real people I’m playing with. See, I’m a hunter, level 2. I can chat with all these other people. I can even wave to this guy, see? Hello. (his character waves to another character, who waves back). In the outside world, I’m a simple geologist, but in here… I am Valkorn, Defender of the Alliance. I’ve braved theFargodeep Mine, defeated the bloodfish at Jerod’s Landing–

Southpark: Make Love, Not Warcraft

A year ago, my son, then 19 years old and functioning remarkably well in his second year at the University of Texas as an electric engineering student dragged my dysfunctional butt to the local Game Stop and suggested I try Zelda to get my mind off my own belly button. Slowly, so very slowly, I learned not only how to transform Link into a wolf but how to find  the woman in me who could run with the wolves.

I talked to my old, good friend  Jason this morning. We met at  seminary 10 years ago. I liked him immediately even though he spent a lot of time tsk tsk-ing me like a fussy church marm because I was behaving irreverently in chapel. But acting irreverently was the only way I could survive seminary by the time I was a senior. So many people took themselves so, so seriously. So many great songs were forever ruined and a few of my favorite biblical stories. Later, we ended up working at the same church.

Spent an hour today just browing the ping social network group for anglicans interested in the Emergent Church movement. Chuck was absolutely right. That’s a picture of him. He’s a lot smarter than he looks. He told me to check out what’s being said about this movement. It is articulating exactly what I am searching for and what i am wanting to make tangible with this project. There are also many elements in the site that I like, particularly the  way videos and blogs are readily accesible and easy to browse. At the very least, the diocesan website ought to have individual profile pages and parish groups and diocesan groups where conversations, etc .. can be posted.

Secondly, I loooked at the website ChurchMarketingSucks.com where I found a great article, Church Copycats,  that describes the ridiculous practice of taking a pop culture phenomenon such as Twitter, MySpace, Facebook, YouTube and creating a replica site for Christians, i.e. GodTwitter.com, GodTube, GraceSpace, GraceFace. This is exactly what I don’t want to come across as trying to do. I don’t want to create something that “Christians” go to avoid the real world. I want to create a space that real world people go and bump in to “christian” stuff. Does that make sense?  Also, I want to be a cool geek, you know?

Chuck said that The Next Wave.org has some of what I am describing and he is right on that point, too. (I’m starting to think that Chuck “gets” me . Anyway, this is an online magazine (e-zine) that focuses on the culture’s role in society. It has regularly occuring columnists. It has a book selection, although I didn’t see if there were actual reviews or not. This site is also strongly associating with the emerging church movement. I was interested to note on the Gathering the Next Generation  website that it is shutting down. One of the issues was that no one had the time or energy to devote to carrying out these “emerging” ideas and do their day job at the same time. This begs the question, doesn’t it. At what point does the church simply put their money with their mouth is. Just do it … and what are the resources required to make this project actually successful in practical terms and not just another conversation that clergy have pontificating about the new way to do church while continuing to do church the old way.  Karen Ward uses the fabulous phrase “a preferential option for the future’ that I think refers to the polity people making exceptions to the rules, creating space for risks, providing capital for ventures so that we can actually have praxis beside our lofty kitchen table talk.

To change the subject — a few days ago, Gregg was describing the way Intel uses a company that produces a 3-d, virtual reality like “world” that simulates a conference hall. You can visit separate rooms to sign up for different workshops, watch different videos, leave notes, etc… (Gregg, is that right?) I was just imagining a virtual cathedral looking site where you could go to various rooms depending on your interest. Maybe he can show us an example because I doubt that Intel would use something with graphics like second life. But I can imagine an animated, 3-d graphic that you can move around within it. Perhaps you’d find …

• Music room for music, videos, scores, etc … you could go be a DJ on Blip.fm and impress your friends with your great taste in music. You could watch a video of your child’s choir solo. You could look information on the hymn you heard last sunday or listen to a recording of  Gregg  Bennett’s mighty guitar licks.
• Kitchen (recipes for crowds)
• Sacristy (wikis, manuals)
• Study (you name it …)
• Classroom (more and more)

I just got off the phone with Clinton Bonner from The Social Collective. This was a very exciting conversation. He talked about how on the Epicenter website, we could add a tab that said “My Epicenter” that had all of an individual’s “stuff” on it. It would have their personal profile page and the groups they are involved with. He said it would work seamlessly with the existing website and not have to be built. We wouldl have messaging capabilities, branding that would replicate all the diocesan logos, colors, etc … that would then be extended to Twitter, Facebook, etc … We could crowdsource, utilizing feedback to determine what content people want. We could have contests where people vote for favorites. For example, we could have a contest for a soloist at diocesan council opening service. People could turn in their video or mp3 recording and the community would vote for who they wanted. This company would be the site administrator and host. I liked him a lot. I am going to write him a summary of what I would like to see available. He is going to put together a webinar that could be used to present to the bishop.  I’m so excited now that I have to stop and make an iced coffee.

Oh yeah baby. I’m feeling much better. My iced coffee taste delicious because I put four spoonfuls of raw sugar to melt in the hot espresso. I also turned on some tunes in Pandora. I’m listening to a “Brown Eyed Girl” radio station. If you don’t know about Pandora, you should this out: about Pandora genome project..

So, good, full day. I think my idea could work without a doubt. The question is money and access. I don’t know how much this might cost. Clinton said his company’s cost would be based on how many users we expected. We pay for the amount of “space” on the cloud. Also, Gregg is suppose to be talking to Jim Malsh, an old friend of ours who owns a company that does similar computer services.

Well, it’s late now and I’m going to start some laundry, think about dinner plans and take my bra off relax.

Download Talking Heads Alan Bennett Talking Heads Audio Book original_staging Audible Audiobooks Audible.com

Last night David Sadaris met my every expectation. I’ll tell you more on the evening later. But for now, check out this recommendation he made: Alan Bennett’s collection of monologues featuring six individual portraits. The publisher summarizes: Performed by the author and five of Britain’s leading actresses, Alan Bennett’s tales are full of quirky, insightful detail that bring the characters vividly to life.
From Julie Walters’ portrayal of an actress seeking fame to Anna Massey’s alcoholic vicar’s wife, these individuals are linked by their self-delusion, desperation, and vulnerability.
In these compelling pieces, Bennett displays the wry observation, knowing irony, and tender understatement that have ensured his rightful place at the forefront of contemporary writing.
This collection includes A Chip in the Sugar with Alan Bennett; A Lady of Letters with Patricia Routledge; Bed Among the Lentils with Anna Massey; Soldiering On with Stephanie Cole; Her Big Chance with Julie Walters; and A Cream Cracker Under the Settee with Thora Hird.