PeaceBang

Testosterone-Drenched Movies

In the past week I’ve seen Scorcese’s celebrated film “The Departed” and David Fincher’s just-released serial killer crime drama “Zodiac.”

“The Departed” was entertaining, but I’m so sorry Scorcese didn’t win the Oscar for “Goodfellas,” which is by far a superior film. I don’t know what to say about “The Departed.” Jack Nicholson works hard for his paycheck, Matt Damon is typically earnest and does his best Bah-stahn accent (he’s one of the only Hollywood actors who gets it right every time– even local son Mark Wahlberg seems to waffle in his), and Leo DiCaprio gives a fantastic performance.

There’s lots of music. Opera, rock-and-roll, very atmospheric, va-va voom. There’s a dull, sexy female character who plays the old gangster’s moll kind of role but dressed up in a modern-girl career mode. The only thing missing was for her to either have to run down an alley in a pair of high heels, sobbing all the while, or slapping her lover across the face and calling him a “big galoot.”
Lordy, I’m tired of movies that have no female characters in them but this type of broad.

Lots of people get shot. The end of the movie is the kind of bloodbath Thomas Kydd would have loved. You turn off the tv, stretch, yawn, and forget you’ve seen the flick by the time you’re brushing your teeth.

“Zodiac” was so much better. I loved Mark Ruffalo, I loved the integrity of the story, the characters, the fact that something mattered, which I was never motivated to feel by “The Departed.”

I’m tired, it’s late, I have to go write a church newsletter column now. Seen any good movies lately?

More On Poverty and Sustainability

Scott lovingly wails on me here:

http://boyinthebands.com/archives/the-healthy-sustainable-diet/

And it’s great, because he totally knows what he’s talking about.

::::stomp, stomp, stomp, SLAM::::

Just kiddin’. I’m going to make some tofu and veggie buffalo wings (really) and to watch “The Departed.”

That Purpose-Driven Scandal And a Ghost Story

I tried to go to sleep early last night, but I thought it very possible that my segment would air on “Nightline” so I gave up around 11:00 and turned the light back on.

I saw immediately that I wouldn’t be on, as they were featuring some scandal about Rick Warren called “The Purpose-Driven STRIFE” (cue ominous music).

This story gave me such a bad fit of the giggles I almost threw out my back. Here’s what it was about: churches that are growing by leaps and bounds by using Warren’s “purpose-driven” model are actually experiencing some conflict.

I’ll give you a moment to get up off the floor. I know, I was amazed and astounded, too. Conflict in churches? Especially ones that go from an average of thirty worshipers to three hundred? The mind fairly boggles!

This was so great. The reporter was very earnest as he interviewed a man who left a “purpose-driven” congregation in North Carolina because — please hold onto your coffee cups now — they were hardly playing any traditional hymns anymore.

Just as I was reeling with this news – what? Good church-going Americans are disagreeing about music??? — they showed footage from purpose-driven church services where people responded enthusiastically to praise music and the minister preached with heartfelt intensity about applying gospel lessons to our actual lives. The critical man considered this “mixing psychology” into religion. My God, what’s next!!?? Suggesting outright to church-goers that the ancient spiritual teachings of Christ might have direct relevance to their contemporary lives? This has to stop. Rick Warren, are you listening to me? How dare you grow the church by millions of people according to this nefarious method?

I finally quit my giggling and went back to sleep. An hour or so later, I was awakened by a deep thudding noise from downstairs. I figured it was the jacked-up bass from a sound system of a passing car on Main Street, and then I heard it again. A few more times.

Must be the cat. Just as I was about to call for her, I heard the sound of someone climbing the stairs. Heavy footsteps, but calm and sure, like a father coming to check on his sleeping child. As my neckhairs began to prickle (”Boy, Ermengarde sure sounds like a human climbing those stairs”), I saw that the cat was not coming up the stairs — she was awake and listening at the foot of my bed. Instead of being terrified, I was flooded with the most amazing sense of blessing and protection I have had in years. Maybe ever. The cat didn’t seem too disturbed, but she very quietly and stealthily padded across the mattress to curl up closer to me. When I woke up this morning, she was still there–sleeping in a little striped ball just inches from my nose.

This house has been occupied by the ministers of my church since 1875. I have always felt a lot of love from “my boys,” — I’m the first female pastor in the congregation’s 365 year history — and I wonder if one of them stopped by to minister to me.

Maybe it was my Dad “breaking on through from the other side,” as Jim Morrison once sang. I’ve missed him a LOT lately.

Maybe it was a little episode of psychosis brought on by too much prayer and openness.

Whatever it was, I still felt like I was in the presence of angels when I woke up this morning, that “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

Hey ghost, thanks for stopping by.

Poverty and Sustainability

I’m just wondering this honestly, and with no sense of judgment (quelle surprise!), but honestly, as middle and upper-class Americans are running around trying to eat organic everything and grass-fed beef (if they eat beef) and full-moon harvested herbs and drinking biodynamic wine, isn’t it true that most of the people in our country are still eating mostly crap?

Shouldn’t we be working on justice issues that make basically, minimally healthful food available to more people before scurrying about trying to fill our own larders exclusively with organic and perfectly nutritious foodstuffs?

I get to go to Whole Foods in my car and read labels and purchase the best, best, best nutrients for my precious bod. Meanwhile, people in Boston nearby have trouble getting a regular old supermarket into their neighborhood, and have to subsist on convenience store fare.

Shouldn’t we stop the presses, so to speak, when this is the case around us? I’m not saying I know how to, but I wonder sometimes if all this emphasis on sustainable, fabulously healthful, perfectly produced food is more about the fact that “I, Privileged and Educated White Woman, Deserve To Live Longer and Better Than The Average Joe” than “I Care Deeply About How the Earth Is Being Plundered To Feed Humans.” If there was a special Food Gandhi among us, what would he say?
Would he say, “This is like the airplane scenario: use your oxygen mask on yourself first so you can assist someone else?” or would he say, “Hey, before you get to fill your own plates with impeccable offerings, make sure your sisters and brothers nearby at least get to have something better than Doritoes and McDonald’s on theirs.”

I really don’t know. I understand that food is not just political, it is also cultural, and some people want to eat decidedly unsustainable items and want Miss GoodyTwoShoesPants over here to butt out.

I just thought about it yesterday when I was cruising through Whole Foods thinking wow, I have access to all of this. I could walk out of here with nothing but the finest and most healthful food available to any American. Meanwhile, 15 miles from here, I know they don’t even have access to a grocery store. Is my shopping at Whole Foods so much about stewardship of the Earth as it is about my own ego-based survival instinct? And if it’s the latter, isn’t there a more egalitarian way to approach the greening of the food supply question?

Dear God,
In the dark of this Lenten season, I confront my own fear of death. I pray to be brought into deeper spiritual fellowship with all my brother and sister creatures, with a sense of our interconnectedness and mutuality.
Let my unquenchable desire for life not blind me to responsibility to those around me. Make my consciousness of the toxicity of our environment bind me more deeply to others, not flee to the false haven of imagined safety of purchased health. If my neighbor cannot be healthy, then neither can I be. Make us courageous, God, to make necessary sacrifices where we have heedlessly laid waste to Your creation. Amen.

More Thoughts On "The Secret"

http://ehrenreich.blogs.com/barbaras_blog/

The Fullness Of Who You Are: Stewardship Sunday

Today was Stewardship Sunday at church, and it was joyous and energetic. Great music. Happy people who deeply care about one another. God didn’t give me a husband but God got me together with this church, and they are my great love. Five years into this relationship I find myself more and more deeply drawn into amazement atthe simple profundity of what we are trying to do and be together.

We told the story today of the rich man who falls asleep in the synagogue and hears the rabbi preach on Leviticus , which instructs him tobake 12 loaves of challah bread and to leave them behind the tabernacle. It gets confused in the man’s mind, so he winds up thinking that he has heard the voice of God telling him directly to bake the bread. He figures, I’d better do it, so he bakes 12 loaves of challah and leaves them back where the Torah is kept.

The rich man leaves the synagogue, and meanwhile, the poorest man in town who is also the custodian of the synagogue, comes in. He is praying: Please, God, help me. My family is hungry, we have nothing, something has to happen for us or we’ll starve.

He goes behind the ark and he sees the loaves. He is jubilant, praising God and saying Wow, I knew You were a generous God, but I didn’t know You worked so fast!

The rich man comes back later and sees that the challah is gone. He, too, is jubilant. My offerings have been received by God!!

This relationship continues for weeks: the rich man bakes the leaves the challah, the poor man takes and is fed by it. They both believe this is a miracle directly from God.

One day the rabbi just happens to be in the sanctuary and he sees this whole little drama unfolding. And he calls the two men to him and explains what has been going on. The man are so disappointed!! So it wasn’t God after all, it was only them. But the rabbi says, you are the hands of God. You are the hands of God when you give, and you are the hands of God when you receive.

So I said to the congregation, this is the great story of how church life works. We don’t want it to be a secret here. Because here’s what you need to know — get this! — not only do we pay to support this community, we also get to do all of the work!!

There is no disappointment in this, no

Check Out ‘Reverend Mother"

Reverend Mother http://reverendmom.blogspot.com/ is blogging about a lot of the things I would be blogging about here if I wasn’t trying to take a hiatus for Lent.

And I don’t mean the recent post about my beauty tips blog, I mean the entries about “The Secret” (a pop spirituality phenomenon that seems to me to be recycled Shakti Gawain), the theological underpinnings of UU memorial services, and other items of current interest.

Cheers, Rev Mom! Great stuff!