50s house wife

Because I feel a bit like a 50s housewife, I felt it only appropriate to dress up as one for Halloween - high heels and an apron, curlers and a broom, and a vintage Ladies Home Journal with a diminutive-looking, doe-eyed woman on the front with tips such as "How to make your marriage last" and "Simple knit patterns for home." Yes, it's tongue-and-cheek, and the whole housewife image seems somewhat anacronystic in this day and age. But feminism, like most ideas we encounter, requires flexibility. I've journeyed from Elizabeth Eliot and Josh Harris to Betty Frieden and bell hooks to Ivy George and Margie DeWeese-Boyd (who are real, live people actually living out their ideas which I've been able to witness). Feminism is not "Have sex whenever with whomever" or "Kill men" or "Climb the corporate latter," at least not the feminism I admire. Maybe it's not even about feminism any more as much as it is about justice peace-making...in our homes, in our communities, in our nations. Male or female, we are called to surrender our egos, give to those in need, advocate for the marginalized, create peace where there is strife, love children, enjoy life's blessings, protect the earth. I guess traditionally, a lot of these things were considered the work of women. But isn't this what we are called to do as Christians, as followers of Jesus?

Ephemeral

For the past few years, I have come to realize that life is in fact ephemeral, that I am not invincible or immortal, that I and those whom I love and all those whom I don't love or don't even know will pass away. Life is short. This is a pithy statement, almost trite in its simplicity. But it's true. Life is ephemeral -- fleeting, lasting only a short time, gone in a flash. We in the West have a really hard time with this axiom. We do whatever it takes to beat death, to ignore it or deny it. We take off fat here and inject it there; we lift this and that to fight gravity; we implant chins and breasts and calf muscles (I kid you not). We dye our hair, have children at age 48, and avoid telling anyone our real age. "Old" is considered an offensive adjective, so we use words like "senior" or "mature" or "elderly." There is no place in our society for old people to be revered for their age. Even retirement communities boast about enabling their residents to feel "young again." What is so awful, so painful, about being old? Well, for one thing, getting old means bodily deterioration (which we try to deny by the above procedures, some invasive and some superficial). It means mental deterioration (for some, though not all). It means no longer being able to work, to have a source of income (of all those living under the poverty line, most are over 65). It means losing control, whether financially, or no longer driving a car. It means burdening others with your dependency. This is why we don't value the well-aged in our great nation, or in the West in general. Senior citizens are more dependent and less useful, and they remind us that we, someday, will not be young and plump and sexually appealing. One day, that will be right around the corner, so close we can taste it. Death is always around the corner, no matter our age, but when your years are numbered, you no longer have the energy to deny it.

This pontification has a point. And the point I'm trying to make is this. Someday, we are all going to die. And yet our own deaths are the least talked about aspect of our lives. Some of us may die young. Some well into our 80s or 90s. But we will all pass away. Now, given that we live in a society that could care less about bodies and minds work slowly or awkwardly, if they work at all (this encompasses the elderly and the developmentally and physically disabled), shouldn't we be focused on cultivating communities that ALLOW for marginalized bodies, marginalized minds? Ultimately, I think it's the role of the Church to care for those whom society has forgotten or neglected. The Church is a kingdom for the lost, the awkward, the weird, the socially inappropriate. I really do think l'Arche is a manifestation of the Church's care for the marginalized. Here in l'Arche bodies and minds don't work the same as they do in the outside world. Socks aren't always put on straight. Milk sometimes spills on the counter. Teeth are crooked and laughter is loud. But here, bodies can be bodies, not machines for production or sex appeal but bodies created by a living and loving God. People live in l'Arche and they die in l'Arche, all the while knowing that they have a safe place, a place of peace and acceptance, where they can live out their existences without fear of rejection because they can't produce, can't attract, can't speak with finesse or walk in a smooth manner.

The Church works in the subtle ways, I hear. And l'Arche is very subtle, a seed scattered on the ground and taking root ever so slowly. I think there are a lot of these seeds being planted and eventually bearing the fruit of the Gospel. With l'Arche, I don't have to be afraid of death or handicap or age. Life is still short, of course, but it tastes sweeter, more meaningful, when you know there are those who will take care you when your body or your mind stop working as they normally would. My heart breaks to think of all those who've lived out their lives at institutions, as disabled children, elderly men and women. Those nameless, faceless wastelands where people die long before their hearts stop beating. Some of those folks have found their way to l'Arche, praise God, but bear the scars of those years on their souls. Others will never find a way out. And now knowing how short life actually is, I realize that any time not spent in community with loving relationships is time wasted. And I find my heart aching for those who've spent most of their lives alone. Because in a flash, we will be 83, wondering where the time has gone to, wondering when life will actually get started, until we realized we've lived it already. I want to be able to get to that age and be able to look back and say, "What a life well lived, rich in relationships and in experience." This is my hope and my prayer, and my hope and prayer for all people who walk this planet.

There and back again...

I am back this week from a few does on the North Shore...a short and very sweet visit. How I love Massachusetts...and the people that happen to reside there at this moment in life. A few Capt Dusty's runs, some Sugar Magnolia's, lots of Singing Beach, and a fair amount of drinks -- the North Shore at its best. Lex was gracious enough to allow me to stay in her freshly-moved-in room, and even kick her out of her bed. We went to the movies twice on Saturday which was hilarious. No regrets, of course. And I was able to see John's new place and hang out with Pete and Gina (and their unborn baby boy). And Matt and Josh's lovely place. And Bethany's little apartment. We're all growing up...living on our own now.

We went into Boston and had delish Vietnamese food and went to a bar near Harvard. After ordering our drinks and sipping about half, the fire alarm went off and we filed out side, without our drinks. After ten minutes and a host of firemen (firetrons?) heading into the building, we attempted to pay our waiter for our drinks (we are SUCH Gordon students) and, when we had no luck, we bolted. Jenna was our get-away car driver. She took us to an oovy-groovy lounge which we enjoyed, even with all the "atmosphere."

We were able to see Devon off before her plane ride to Europe where she'll be for the next 9 months. Nine months. When we were in college, that would have seemed like so long. And, relatively, it is quite a chunk of time. But...in the grand scheme of it all, I bet it will fly by, at least for her. I'm so glad she's able to go back to Italy and enjoy life there. I gave her a book on French customs and traditions so she could be somewhat prepared for her time there come January. And, though I'm hoping to see Steve before he takes off for Egypt, we were able to hang out extensively and talk about l'Arche and life. He's adjusting to life in l'Arche as I am, which is a nice feeling of solidarity. Come late December, he'll be flying to Egypt for the year!

Man...all this talk of travel makes me want to get up and go again. Lex and I were having dinner with Laurie (from Gordon's chapel office) and she was telling us about her trip to Ethiopia over the summer. Just the mere mention of Eastern Africa had me itching to go back, and Lex felt the same. She and I really need to get out asses over there as soon as humanly and financially possible. It's so strange how one seemingly small experience, like studying abroad for 5 months in Uganda, can remain imprinted in your brain as if no time has passed. That was, what, 2004? We are heading into 2007. And yet I have moments, once or twice a month, where I have a flash back to my time in Uganda. When I was up in Hamilton, walking along a path next to a lake, the clouds brewing a storm above, the humidity of Eastern Massachusetts hanging in the air, all I could think was, "I'm in Uganda."

I was there for 5 months. Why do I have so memories of that short experience compared to my memories of high school? My parents and I went to an Osbourn High School football game tonight for "old time's sake." I wasn't psyched about the idea...high school seems like ages ago, and it's always uncomfortable to run into those people whom you've forgotten their name, their connection to you, or what have you. It's been a long enough time, 8 years now, that few if any of my classmates were around. So...no awkward interactions. But, anyway, as I was sitting in the bleachers, listening the marching band play and watching the field, I could hardly conjure up enough high school memories to count on one hand. I spent 4 rather formative years of my life in that school. I walked on that field for homecoming.....I loitered under the bleachers with friends.....I ate lunch on the grass. So so strange that none of those memories stuck with me as vividly, as viscerally as my experience in Uganda.

Some could argue that high school was so long ago...that so much has happened since then that those old memories have faded and been replaced by new ones. Sure. This could be true. But even experiences I've had AFTER Uganda. I have a hard time recalling in the same lucid manner. I do not walk down a certain road or eat a certain dish and think "Romania." Well, I have on occasion...but those occasions are decreasing at a rapid rate. My experience in Romania didn't exactly "stick" like Uganda. I can look at pictures and read old journal entries, but I don't have the feelings and emotions associated with those things. And that's very strange. That was less than a year ago.

My time at l'Arche has officially started as of yesterday, though today I am on my "day away," as well as tomorrow. It's nice to have this time off to see my parents. We are headed to an orchard tomorrow for some apples, and then seeing "A Prayer for Owen Meany" tomorrow night in Bethesda -- quite possibly my favorite book adapted for the stage. I might bawl. Then, on again for Sunday! Still lots of stuff to learn, people to acquaint myself with, routines to learn. With every passing week, things will feel more normal, easier, natural. But for now, things are crazy!! And my room is, though monastic in size, full of character. I'm thinking...Christmas lights?

I miss...

My sister
Jacob
Portland
My friends
Gordon
Dana and Brandi and Briana (in Romania)
Diana and Cornel and Victor (in Romania)
Public transportation
The woods
Non-Starbucks coffee shops
Farmers markets
Uganda
Happy and Gayo (in Uganda)

The start of another chapter...

Well...it's clear I'm not in Oregon anymore, so my URL is a bit irrelevant. But, I still have the sensation that I am falling into the "Great Beyond," which feels something like what the unfortunate astronaught in those sci-fi movies must have experienced when her safety line is tragically severed in some freak accident and she is sent whurrling head over heels into space. I'm surprised scenes like that never gave me nightmares as a kid. Yeesh.

The feelings of "weightlessness"....better described as "planlessness," have subsided a bit now that I have a plan. My home until next summer will be 413 S Highland St, Arlington, with the occassional weekly jaunt home to Kamlea Dr. I visited the house for the first time tonight and was able to meet some of the folks and some of the assistants. It's such a new house - it's only officially been opened since August 28th, and two of the core members haven't moved in yet! But, I was able to meet Hazel and Fritz, who are cool for many reasons but especially because their names have a "z" in them. And Diane, the community coordinator, was great to talk to...and John, the DC community director, is a great guy. I felt excited about it all...and hope to get my l'Arche on soon, by the end of September.

I'm still getting over my jet-lag. I spent most of the day feeling defeated and caffiene-insensitive. I hope to get more sleep tomorrow. And, I hope to buy tickets soon for a short trip up to the Massachusetts area to see friends. For this, I am excited! But not about flying....bleh.

Photos of roses....

Here are some pictures I took at the Portland Rose Gardens when my family was in town. Flowers are my favorite things to take pictures of because they practically take themselves.

Back in EST...

I love Eastern Standard Time. And I'm glad to be back in it. It feels natural, and comfortable, like a good, worn-in shoe. Pacific Time was classy and fresh, but felt uncomfortable, more of a high-heeled boot, in keeping with the analogy. Billy Collins wrote a poem about EST in his book The Trouble With Poetry. My copy is in Romania, with Brandi Bates, and I hope it is bringing her much gladness. Here is the poem, aptly entitled, "Eastern Standard Time":

Poetry speaks to all people, it is said,
but here I would like to address
only those in my own time zone,
this proper slice of longitude
that runs from pole to snowy pole
down the globe through Montreal to Bogota.

Oh, fellow inhabitants of this singular band,
sitting up in your many beds this morning—
the sun falling through the windows
and casting a shadow on the sundial—
consider those in other zones who cannot hear these words.

They are not slipping into a bathrobe as we are,
or following the smell of coffee in a timely fashion.

Rather, they are at work already,
leaning on copy machines,
hammering nails into a house-frame.

They are not swallowing a vitamin like us;
rather they are smoking a cigarette under a half moon,
even jumping around on a dance floor,
or just now sliding under the covers,
pulling down the little chains on their bed lamps.

But we are not like these others,
for at this very moment on the face of the earth,
we are standing under a hot shower,

or we are eating our breakfast,
considered by people of all zones
to be the most important meal of the day.

Later, when the time is right,
we might sit down with the boss,
wash the car, or linger at a candle-lit table,
but now is the hour for pouring the juice
and flipping the eggs with one eye on the toaster.

So let us slice a banana and uncap the jam,
lift our brimming spoons of milk,
and leave it to the others to lower a flag
or spin absurdly in a barber’s chair—
those antipodal oddballs, always early or late.

Let us praise Sir Stanford Fleming,
the Canadian genius who first scored
with these lines the length of the spinning earth.

Let us move together through the rest of this day
passing in unison from light to shadow,
coasting over the crest of noon
into the valley of the evening
and then, holding hands, slip into the deeper valley of night.

Back to school? Not so much...

Yesterday, as I was walking over to the Nehalem House in the morning, I could sense that the summer was on its way out, and that autumn was creeping in, covertly in some parts of the country, overtly in others. Fall is my favorite season for a number of reasons, so the prospect of summer ending doesn't have me too upset. I love the brisk-but-not-too-cold weather, the transformation of the trees from green to gold and orange and maroon, apple-picking and pie-making, Halloween and Thanksgiving. But another thing I really love about Fall is that it means school is starting up again -- new classes, fresh text books, and a reunion with all those people whom I've missed during the summer months. When I was walking yesterday morning, I had a profound sense of saddness, a sense of "loss," that such a reunion at the end of the summer is no longer inevitable. We're done. We're graduated. That's it. There's no longer a mutual point where we will all congregate come late August. Instead, we are scattered about here and there, everywhere.

This time last year, I was moving into the Hull St House. I remember Sam slept on the living room floor on his big inflatable mattress because I didn't want to be alone. I was finishing up my time at Russell Orchards, squeezing in a few more trips to the beach, and getting mentally ready for classes again. I remember when Devon and Lex and Bethany and Ray came, how our stuff was everywhere, and Devon and I kept rearranging the living room furniture over and over again. And I remember watching an entire season of Lost in about two sittings. Hilarious memories (and bittersweet ones) from the Hull St House.

Fall has always been a season of change. The warm weather packs up and heads south, the cold weather slowly moves in. Out come the jeans and sweaters. The landscape changes, the crops are harvested. But for the last four years, fall meant continuity, heading back home to Gordon to live once again with friends. This year, fall really will mean change. It's times like these that help me remember what I am thankful for, for all the memories made and friendships crafted over the years. Of course, there was a time when Gordon was new, foriegn. And it soon became home. And there was a time when Portland was foriegn, when l'Arche was foriegn.

We all ease into our environments over time...I haven't lived in the same bed for more than a year since I was in highschool. Just in the past few months, I've moved from my room in Evans during last summer to the Hull St House to home in VA to Romania to Hull St again to VA again to Portland, and now back to VA. All this moving and transition makes me feel like a nomad. Just this summer, I lived three days at one house, two days at the next, two days at Jacob's. Here there and everywhere.

Though I am indeed not going back to school this August (in fact, it's already started for most), it is a relief not to be back in class and over-involved in this or that activity. I have slept more this summer than all my years in college combined. I have been able to read at my own place, learn through experience, and see another part of the country. It will be good to have this time away before heading back in to school come next fall.

Random note to self: buy the new Outkast cd. Jordan (Jacob's cousin) is playing it outside my door and I'm enjoying it immensely.

On that random note, I'm out. Time to chill with the folks.

l'Arche Northern Virginia!

Interesting how life works, how God works. Just a few weeks I felt up a creek, not sure of what to do next or which direction to take. I was in the process of applying to l'Arche Tahoma Hope in Tacoma, WA, and the idea of having to drive all the way back across country was a little unsettling, mainly because I would probably have done it by myself. My original plan to go to DC l'Arche just felt...right. I could be close to home and see my parents on my days away. I could interview at schools where I'm hoping to attend next year (all of which are on the East Coast). I could help my mom with planning for my sister's wedding. I could fly up to Boston to see some friends (which is a short jaunt compared to the tortuous flight across country). All those things made me feel especially bummed when l'Arche DC informed me that they had already filled their late August position.

Then...just a few days ago, as I was filling out my application to l'Arche Tahoma, I get an email from l'Arche DC, saying they have an unexpected opening in late September and they want to start the interview process right away! I have so far done two phone interviews which have both gone well. It really helps that I've been living in a l'Arche community for the past 3 months. I'm sold on the philosophy and have had the practical experience. Turns out, they are opening a new house in Arlington, Virginia, and I would be living there instead of one of the DC l'Arche houses. This had me slightly bummed (I was so looking forward to living in the city!) but Arlington is so close and a very cool town. I am happy!

Again, I say, interesting how God works. So, come September 6th to July of 2007, looks like I'll be living in Virginia! As one can imagine, my parents are ecstatic. My mom has been doing celebratory dances for about a week. Arlington is just across the river from DC which will make going into the city an easy thing. This is a little snippet I got from the DC l'Arche website: "To double the size of the L’Arche community, L’Arche is expanding into Northern Virginia where we will welcome eight additional people with developmental disabilities. L’Arche purchased two homes in Arlington Virginia in June 2004 and plans to open the first new home this summer when renovations are complete."

At this point, I am trying to transition out of my time here at l'Arche Nehalem with grace. I was reflecting back on when I first came, how new and overwhelming everything felt. Now, there hardly seems a time when I wasn't living here and living the l'Arche life. I take off in about a week, on September 6th. Portland has been such an interesting place to live, and I am really glad I was able to spend a lot of time with Melissa and Jacob while I was here. I could see myself coming back to the Northwest sometime in the near future. It's a beautiful part of the country, for sure. Funny that I will be going from one of the hippiest, crunchy, enviro-local friendly, peacenik towns in the country to Arlington, VA, home of a dozen war memorials and Army/Navy sites. Sigh. It will have a different feel, for sure.

OK....I am on today at 12 which means time to go to the Bipartisan for some coffee. A morning ritual.

And here are some photos of the Oregon coast

Photos from our trip to Long Beach

This is a replica of the tree William Clark carved in when he visited Long Beach on the very last leg of this journey out West. It says, "William Clark, November 19, 1805, by land from the U States." Strange to think that WA wasn't a State at that point.


We hiked a bit through the forest...


Jacob "discovering" the William Clark tree...

We went in search what remained of the great civilization, the Chinook Nation, that once lived in that area of Washington. All we found was this run-down, one room office...it wasn't opened when we went.

Northwest beaches are wild places. The Pacific Ocean is so vast, so unpredictable. And we found these clumps of seaweed that literally looked other-worldly.

You win some, you lose some

Well...as I suspected, you can never really plan too far ahead. Once you are sure of something, once you've written it in stone, something changes and you find youself back to square one. Or at least I do. I worry and fret and fuss and moan, only to find that worrying and fretting and fussing and moaning did nothing to give me control. They just stressed me out. Planning in general stresses me. This is why I hate packing.....too many decisions to make and not enough knowledge to run on. Will it rain? Do I need a swim suit? What about sunscreen? Blah blah. Soon...you find youself lugging 7 suitcases behind you on the way to the airport. Or, you find youself freezing cold in a hail storm in the middle of July because, for some reason, you forgot to pack your fleece-lined winter jacket for your trip to the beach.

All this being said, l'Arche DC has already filled their open position for the Fall (they neglected to tell me this). And, their next available position is in December, some ways away. So, it looks like DC is out and we are back to where we began: What to do starting September. I have some ideas, but nothing that involves actually getting hired somewhere and getting a real salary. Is this a surprise? L'Arche Tahoma Hope (in Tacoma, WA) is hiring for a new assistant and Melissa knows the community coordinator quite well. I definitely have an "in" there if I wanted it. She got to know some of the core members and assistants this weekend at Regional Gathering and really liked them. Tahoma Hope is the only l'Arche community in the US that is also a farm. Several communities in France have farms, but it is a new idea in the States. Last weekend we went up there for a BBQ and I was able to see the farm and meet some of the folks there and tour the grounds. They have a chapel which I thought was really beautiful and a lot of space to walk around. I liked it there. So, I could potentially join l'Arche Tahoma for a bit, at least until next July or something.

Also, I've thought about doing something temporary (who knows what) until January and then heading back to Romania until the summer. I could raise the money pretty easily, and I would be a big help to Dana in terms of helping to organize the social work internship and getting the study abroad program off the ground. There's a lot of work there to be done, and Dana and Brandi and Briana are three of my favorite people on the planet. This is, of course, a non-money-making option, but I don't really expect to be making money until after a grad degree (Ha! getting a job with an MTS??).

Anyway, the parents are coming to town (Florers and Bixlers) this week and I am in the midst of trying to plan Melissa's picnic shower for Thursday. Doesn't look like a lot of folks will be able to come which is unfortunate. Thursday isn't the most popular day of the week, I guess.

Since Melissa was up in Spokane this weekend at Regional Gathering, Jacob and I drove up to Long Beach, Washington (Kite Capital of the world?) and stayed with Tim and a large portion of his extended family at their beach house. It was really nice to get away and meet some new people. The house they were renting for the week was literally right next to the ocean....you could see it from the upstairs windows. And it was huge! But, nonetheless, there were 15 people in a house that supposed to fit 9. At night, there was hardly a square inch to be found...people were sleeping on the floor, on the couches, in all the rooms. Tim and Jacob pitched a tent down the road and slept there. There were cousins and nephews and sisters and aunts and Grandma Roth, the matriarch. We raced go-carts in town (my testosterone levels went way up after we raced) and played a lot of video games (Mario-kart!) and played Clue like it was our job and walked on the beach. It was really a nice time, and I really enjoyed getting to know Tim better. He is a high-quality human being.

potentially, a new plan....

I've thought more and more about studying theology next year. I feel like having a solid foundation in theology, philosophy, and Christian ethics would be a great stepping stone for other things, like social work or international development, etc. I know I went to a Christian undergrad, but Gordon did more to turn me off to the study of theology than excite me about it. Sad to say, but true.

Yes, yes, a change of plans. Melissa has been trying to convince me for some time that I would really enjoy the Divinity School at Duke, but I persisted. I mean, I have to individuate sometime...can I really continue to follow my sister everywhere? Anyway, not exactly the best reason to avoid Duke as a potential grad school, that's for sure. When I actually sat down and looked at the course listings, I got really excited. And an MTS (Masters of Theological Study) provides a lot of freedom within the curriculum. Only a few Bible core, some church history, but otherwise...it's electives galore. And, there are some pretty sweet concentrations: Ethics, Black Church studies, and the Global Church all look especially interesting.

This link pretty much says it all. Duke Divinity even does a pilgrimage to Uganda and Rwanda each summer! https://exchange.gordon.edu/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.divinity.duke.edu/programs/bcs/gatherings/summer2006.pdf

I've listed some courses and their descriptions below, the ones the specifically peaked my interest.

Biblical Studies

145. To Work and Watch: Toward a Biblical Ecology/Theology of Land. The aims of this course are to: 1. Explore ancient Israel’s theological understandings of land tenure and use, and further, to explore how land is a crucial element in the relations between humanity and the other creatures, on the one hand, humanity and God, on the other. 2. To engage in a serious rereading of the biblical text in light of the contemporary ecological crisis. 3. To identify ideologies of land tenure and usage that are operative in contemporary societies, including our own, and to examine them critically in light of the biblical text and the present crisis.
270. Paul’s "Mother Tongue:" Interpreting and Approaching Paul’s Parental Metaphors. This course aims at recovering Paul’s "mother tongue" through a close reading of his parental metaphors, with particular attention to his use of maternal imagery. The course attends to the background of that imagery in prophetic and apocalyptic literature, as well as appropriations in the early church. The course will include readings in metaphor theory, exegesis of selected texts, and reflection on both destructive and constructive ways that parental metaphors function in the church today.

Christian Theology

210. Theology, Justice and the Intellectual Life. Can theology intervene in the world to diagnose its injustices and to chart intellectual paths toward remedying them – or is it an impediment to justice? The course probes this question by examining the intellectual life first in its classical, theological framework, where justice and the intellectual life were unified in a singular theological project, and then in its more recent guise, which assumes that only a "de-theologized" intellectual life can adequately diagnose what ails the world. The course considers the works of Arendt, Heidegger, Foucault, and W.E.B. Du Bois.
265. The Significance of Memory. Theological and Ecclesial Perspectives. Explores memory as a communal performance that has implications for how we understand life in the world. Through examining the church as a community of memory, it narrates how Christians remember the past and the importance of liturgical memory for understanding the present and future. The course highlights how Christians and social groups can remember truthfully in life-affirming rather than life-denying ways by suggesting how liturgical remembering might shape how we remember the wrongs inflicted and suffered in daily life.

Ethics

205. War in the Christian Tradition. An analysis of how Christians have understood and evaluated war. Particular attention to the question of whether war should not be regarded as a positive moral good. Works by Augustine, Aquinas, Bainton, Ramsey, Childress, Niebuhr, and Johnson will be considered.

251. Goodness and Personhood. Concepts of "the good" are inextricably linked to the way in which personhood is understood. This seminar treats texts both ancient and recent that address such issues as the relationship between the finitude of human life and its meaningfulness, the metaphors of the "inner" life and "centeredness," the differences and affinities between reason and desire, and the significance of the notions of presence and transcendence. Authors include the writers of the Song of Songs and Job, Plato, Augustine of Hippo, Iris Murdoch, and Martha Nussbaum
296. Community, Faith, and Violence. This seminar explores attempts to formulate fundamentally theological modes of social and political criticism with the focus on the role of faith and violence in secular society. Readings include works by theologians, social critics, and political theorists.

Black Church Studies

128. The Life and Thought of Martin Luther King, Jr. An examination of the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., his theology, and his continuing influence on the church’s ministry.
230. Theology and the Black Activist Tradition. At the methodological center of the tradition of black radicalism is a certain understanding of the (black) intellectual and his or her task. This course examines this center from the vantage of religion and theology. It will do so by considering this tradition’s formation, on the one hand, and the meaning of the intellectual, who is a central figure in it, on the other. In this sense, the course seeks religiously and theologically to intervene into the question of the so-called crisis of the black intellectual with a view to showing it to be, in many respects, a "crisis of intellectuality" (academic, ministerial, and otherwise) as such. Central to our inquiry will be the religious meaning of the figure of W. E. B. Du Bois.
260. Suffering, Evil, and Redemption in Black Theology. Explores the black Christian Tradition with respect to the problem of suffering and evil in black life. Against the backdrop of evil in church history, the course provides a historic overview of perspectives on suffering and redemption articulated by African American Christians such as Maria Stewart and Martin Luther King Jr.

World Christianity

200. The Faces of Jesus in Africa. The course will seek to explore and highlight the assumptions underlying the various constructions of ‘the Faces of Jesus’ within African theology. In particular, the social, historical and theological factors surrounding African Enculturation, Liberation and Feminist Christologies respectively will be examined. The goal of the course will be to lead students to a better appreciation of the complexity of African culture in general, of the challenges facing African Christians today in particular.

211. Healing in the Developing World and Care of the Underserved: Medical and Theological Considerations. The course pays particular attention to issues of religion, especially the ways in which an appreciation of religious and theological issues can be helpful in developing a noncolonial perspective when providing care in a developing country or with the underserved in the USA. The development of health ministries crossculturally will be a theme throughout the course.
240. Postcolonial Identities and Theologies in Africa. This course will provide an overview of the current trends in African theological philosophical thought, especially those relating to or built around the notion of (post)-colonial identity.
245. The Rwanda Genocide and the Challenge for the Church. The course explores the events and ‘reasons’ surrounding the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, from both a historical and theological perspective. The current ‘explanations’ for the genocide are critically analyzed and discussed with a view of raising wider issues relating to African history, memory and violence on the one hand, the church’s social role in Africa on the other.

255. Journeys of Reconciliation. This course not only seeks to highlight why reconciliation matters for Christians (it is at the heart of the Gospel), but also displays how and in what ways it matters by exploring the key convictions that sustain a Christian understanding and practice of reconciliation. The course approaches reconciliation as a journey – a set of journeys – through which the Christian is invited to become part of God’s new creation.

movie theatres and church services

Perhaps one of my favorite things about l'Arche is being able to spend one-on-one time with the core members. The l'Arche model really encourages this because it is these moments that create bonds between the core members and the assistants. Yesterday, I took Joanni to the theatre down the road to see the computer animated feature, "Over the Hedge," which was a lot of fun. She loved the movie and managed to stay relatively quiet (a good thing, because the movie theatre was packed). Joanni, like any two-year-old, has trouble with self-control, so if she sees a bear or a dog, she wants to communicate that to you wherever you happen to be. This wouldn't be a problem if 1)Joanni weren't so big and 2) her signs and noises weren't so loud or overwhelming. Her bear sign is a loud growling noise (only appropriate) that is considered sweet at home, but can be rather terrifying for a stranger walking by. She also loves to touch things, and people, including strangers. I have to remind her to be gentle and not to touch people she doesn't know. Joanni is the sweetest lamb on earth, but if I didn't know her, I would be afraid for sure.

Erin was able to go to the Mennonite church with us this morning, also enjoyable. Erin loves to talk, though she isnt always intelligable (according to us) and she becomes fixated on certain things and continues to talk about them for a long time. She loves hamburgers, so throughout the service, she would say things like, "Want hamburger. Want hamburger." or she would look at me and say "Hi Heather. Hi Heather." I tend to think Erin is a riot, also very sweet and lovable, but it's a bit tough when you are in church. Honestly, though, maybe your average church service shouldn't be so rigid that folks like Erin and Joanni would cause a scene. I mean, church is about a diverse body of believers who are joined together by a common faith in and emulation of Christ. As Christians, we are called to embrace diversity, to recognize that God has not made us all the same with the same abilities, the same mannerisms. Fortunately, the Mennonite church where we go knows about l'Arche and have enjoyed getting to know the core members we've brought with us to the services. It is a loving, unpretentious congregation, a family. But, I know of plenty of churches where Erin and Joanni's habits and ways of communicating would not go over well. I can only imagine the type of glares they would get sitting in certain congregations. It would probably be no different than the glares we were getting in the movie theatre. You know there's something wrong when you can't point out much difference between a church service and a movie showing in terms of the glares you receive when you are a bit loud or make a funny noise.

mornings = blar

No matter how early I go to bed each night, waking up at the crack of dawn is never pleasant. I am a night owl...I think better at night, I often experience "second winds" around 10pm, sometimes even "third winds" if I am around other folks (which energizes me). Two days ago I got up at 6 to do the morning routine. This consists of getting everyone out of bed, brushing teeth, applying deodorant, dressing, brushing hair, fixing breakfast, dealing out morning medications, and getting them each on their bus when it arrives (between 7 and 8). It's a crazy morning...lots of energy and activity. I'm more used to a leisurely paced morning, waking around 9, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper, perhaps trying the crossword, eating a bowl of granola. I guess that means I need to find a job that starts late. Fortunately enough for me, I have found this job. Most of the time, my schedule doesn't require me to be on until 12:15, giving me all morning to mess around. I rarely have to do morning routines.
On my off hours, I've taken to walking up Mt Tabor which is down the road 10 or so blocks. All together, it's about a 3 mile walk, and there must be about 100 or so steps to get to the top of the mountain itself. Mt Tabor is not your "typical" mountain, one that you would picture when I say the word. It's nestled amongst developments, which makes it seem more of a hill than anything. But the upward slope itself remains untouched by developers. The Western side is covered in bike and hiking paths, and there is a paved road that curves all the way up to the top, which circles around and then leads you back down. It's a flat-topped mountain (a once-volcano) that is perfect for frisbee or a picnic, as there are plenty of benches. There's a wonderful view of Hawthorne St and downtown Portland and people gather at that point each night to watch the sunset. I've been up there almost every day for the past week. On Saturday, I went up twice. I really enjoy these walks...I usually bring a book or my journal, finding a nice warm spot in the sun, and laze away my day. I'm rarely alone -- bikers, runners, people walking their dogs, shmoozing couples -- but it would be nice to be there with a friend. Melissa sometimes walks with me, which is nice. But, most of the time, I'm by myself...this can be very draining for an extrovert.
I'm in the process of figuring out my future. Amy offered me a full time position here at l'Arche Portland, but I would have to commit a year and I'm not willing to do this. They will be short handed come September, so I may stay on a bit longer to do respite work. But, at this point, it doesn't look like I'll be staying on much longer, unless, of course, I find another job out here. Melissa keeps talking about renting a two-room house/apartment for her, Jacob, and I to live in. Imagine living as a single person with a newly-married couple. That could be a tv show.
The other option I've explored is living and working in l'Arche DC. On my off days, I could go home and visit my 'rents, which they would love. And, the DC community is located in Adams Morgan, a very interesting part of the city. Plus, l'Arche DC can afford to pay their assistants more -- not bad at all. I've emailed them my interest and I am hoping to hear back from them about what job opportunities are available between Sept and Jan, or Sept and the Spring.
Melissa and I are going to try to work on her and J's save-the-dates today which will involve much cutting and pasting, I do believe. I was off yesterday and spent a good chunk of time downtown by myself, reading in a park, browsing in Powell's books (the largest bookstore in the world!), hitting up Whole Foods. But, after so much time with myself, I look forward to being with other people.

Baseball game, wedding, and so on...

Adam and I at a Beavers game...



Carla heading to the alter....



We were so close to the field!



Mom, me, Melissa, and Dad -- a Bixler family photo op.



Jacon and Melissa (with the sun in their eyes)

Searching for grad programs...

I've begun the Great Search for graduate programs. At this point, a Masters in Social Work is the best option, as my advanced standing from Gordon will allow me to do it in much less than 2 years. And there are several great programs out there that offer an MSW with a concentration in international/community development. I have also looked at some sociology programs, as well.

I'll be updating this later, but so far, I have sent away for information from:

• -Boston College (international MSW)
• -Washington University, St Louis (international com. dev. MSW)
• -Columbia University (MSW)
• -Portland State University (MSW)
• -Boston University (MSW, MA in Sociology of Religion)
• -University of Wisconsin, Madison (MSW, MA in Sociology)
• -University of Denver (MA in International Dev, international MSW)
• -Brandeis University (MA in Sustainable Dev.)
• -University of Michigan (MSW)
• -University of California, Berkeley (MSW)

As one can see, I have hardly narrowed down my choices. I'm an ENFP...I love choices. It is my hope to enter into a program next Fall (2007) or January, depending on if I can get my act together or not. Most of these programs do not require the GRE, but it would be wise for me to take it, nonetheless.

Those are my thoughts-o-the-future for now. This list is by no means finalized.

My newly acquired fear of flying

I've just returned from a whirl-wind trip to Massachusetts where I was able to catch up with family and friends, eat an enormous amount of ice cream, consume some Sam Adams in the land of its brewing, take a DUCK tour throughout Boston, roast like a stuck pig on Good Harbor beach, eat a heavy amount of nachos at our favorite elitist pub (as opposed to our favorite non-elitist pub), watch some good movies, enjoy the World Cup final with my favorite professor, go to a great wedding, and acquire a free ticket voucher for relinquishing my seat and taking a later flight.

As I type this, the jet lag combined with the many tiring hours of flying is zonking me out. But, I will attempt to continue with my update in a somewhat coherent fashion. I am quite glad I was able to take some time to head back up to the place I've called home for the past 4 years. I felt a strange mix of feelings when I arrived. I felt both a sense of place (being well acquainted with the area) and a sense of placelessness (considering I am no longer a student and have no real "home"). What was once a place of my future and of my present has become a place of my past, a place filled with favorite haunts, endless U-turns, sites of revelation -- a place filled now with memories.

Part of me felt a pull to stay on the North Shore. Here, life is familiar. I've grown here, matured and learned and become "adult." I have friends here, a support system, a church that I love. Boston is a great city, with so much more to be reaped and explored. But another part of me felt comfortable with the idea of not returning. Some people live their lives in circles, or prefer to order their lives via compartments. I live my life in eras, in certain stretches of time that are significant for some reason or another, stretches that can be long (years) or very short (days). I have a million journals that are organized by an era in my life. My missions trip to Bolivia when I was 15. My semester in Uganda. My junior year fall semester. My backpacking trip in Italy. My time here at L'Arche. Going back to the North Shore was like reentering a previous era, a strange feeling when you are in the midst of writing a new story, experiencing a new stage in life. Then again, the idea of letting go of Massachusetts...for good...doesn't exactly settle well. I loved it there and I love it there still. And who knows what the future may hold. I may end up back there in a few months or few years time. Life does tend to circle back on itself, I've noticed.

Now, for the title I've chosen for this entry, I must explain. It seems that, as of late, I have acquired a fear of flying. Perhaps "fear" is too strong a word. More like an apprehensiveness, an uneasiness, the opposite of comfort. I have never exactly found flying to be a pleasurable experience (except on BritishAir, as you can imagine). The whole airport experience is a case study in social control and social conformity. Your inequities are laid bare by the security folks as you shuffle through the lines in bare feet, like cattle being herded, and are occasionally pulled aside to be prodded at or have your belongings fondled. People are usually angry....angry at the crying baby on the plane, angry at the ticketing agent, angry at the baggage folks. Once you are on the plane, if you do not have the luxury of sitting in First Class, you are crammed in next to complete strangers who won't acknowledge your existence (or perhaps acknowledge it too much) with frigid air blasting down on you as you feel the plane slide into the air with a fair amount of bucking and bumping. Of course, your flight could very well be delayed or cancelled, which means more airport time, which is never fun.

On top of all of this, you are stuck inside a thin metal tube rushing through the air at an ungodly speed, and you have no idea whether the buzzing noise in the rear of the plane is good or bad. You really know nothing...and you can hardly believe the pilots or the attendants. Their job is to put the passengers at ease and convince them that flying is the safest, most natural thing in the world. If the plane hit the ocean and started sinking, I bet the attendants would still be smiling as they tred water.

I haven't always been fearful. I have been flying since I was in my early teens, and I probably have averaged 5 or so flights a year since college. I also know that there are millions of flights in the air every day and that traveling my air is remarkably safer than traveling by car. I have heard the statistics...that you'd have to fly 24 hours a day for 24 years to experience a plane crash. Blah blah. None of these rationalizations really sets me at ease when I am in the air. It's like my mind has suddenly awoken to the fact that the human person really shouldn't be that far from the earth, that air planes are way too big and way to flimsy to be going that high that fast.

My dad says I just need to surrender, to let go of my fear and be okay with dying. Nothing like a healthy dose of fatalism to get through a harrowing ordeal. Death by airplane crash would definitely be a romantic, exciting way to go. You'd have a great view before you die and exciting ride on the way down. You'd be all over the news, for at least a few days. People would think of you ever time they get on a flight, about the jumbo jet that crashed and sent you to your untimely grave. And, most likely, as your plane crashed down, you would be enjoying a good book or a writing something profound in your journal or jamming to some sweet tunes. I guess it's actually one of the best ways to die...exciting, swift, relatively painless, romantic.

Mmm...morbidity. I was reading a book on the plane today by J M Coetzee, called Disgrace. The protagonist is a rather vile character, complex of course, but lives an uninspired, despicable life...and I couldn't help but think -- "Is this the book I want to be reading if the plane crashes down? Is the broken, sordid life of David Lurie the last thing I want flickering through my mind seconds before I die?" I think about that a lot actually. Death is a great motivator for moral decision making. I think even David Lurie realizes this in Disgrace. With the understanding of death, we are reminded that our every thought, our every action, could easily be our last.

On that note, I sleep....thanking the Lord that I am on the solid earth (and trying to ignore the fact that I am really just sleeping upon the rocking surface of tectonic plates, floating across molten lava).

Thoughts on professionalism

Today was my day 'off' after a long stint of being 'on'. Melissa and I awoke around 8:30 (I did my daily raid of the raspberry bushes out back) and walked up Mt Tabor. It's beautiful up there...lots of joggers and picnic-ers and a sweet view of the Burnside bridge and downtown Portland. After we showered, we took the bus to the Hawthorne district and ate brunch and then patronized our fav coffee place, the Sound Grounds. I always have good musical experiences at the Sound Grounds. When I was there previously, they were playing Paul Simon's "Rhythm of the Saints," one of my favorite albums. And today, after an hour or so of some weird modern jazz nonsense, they put on the Indigo Girls self-titled album which brought back a flood of memories from high school when I listened to that album incessantly. To this day, practically one of the only songs I can play on the guitar (not included your good-ole' Evangelical praise songs) is "Closer to Fine."

I made it back to Nehalem in time for a delicious dinner of vegetarian tacos. Mmm. After dinner each night, we have Community Time which consists of a reading from Jean Vanier's (the founder of l'Arche communities) Community and Growth. If l'Arche had a rule (like the Benedictine rule or the Trappist rule), it would be this book. Tonight, we read about the nature of 'living with' the least of these, and how living with is far different from simply working with.

Vanier writes, "Our focal point of fidelity at l'Arche is to live with people who have a handicap, in the spirit of the Gospel and the Beatitudes. 'To live with' is different from 'to do for'. It doesn't simply mean eating at the same table and sleeping under the same roof. It means that we create relationships of gratuite, truth and interdependence, that we listen to our people, that we recognize and marvel at their gifts, and particularly their openness to God and their holiness. The day we become no more than professional workers and educational therapists is the day we stop being l'Arche -- although of course 'living with' does not exclude this professional aspect."

Ah, I love these thoughts. This is truly l'Arche - a bunch of ragtag, professional and nonprofessional, young and old individuals coming together to experience community. The assistants here do not have Masters degrees in disability theory. Some have social work backgrounds, but most don't. Few, if any, have interacted with the developmentally disabled previous to l'Arche. We are people at different stages in our lives -- graduated or current students, senior citizens, married couples, developmentally disabled adults -- who have come together to experience true togetherness. You don't need to be a professional anything in order to brush teeth, hand out pills, patiently listen, go on a walk, ask for forgiveness. This was a lie I believed before coming to l'Arche, that I was someone incapable of caring for others without a professional title.

The truth is, professionalism or not, I am incapable of caring without the Holy Spirit, without the model of Jesus, without the acceptance and forgiveness of my ugliest sins. We have all been incapacitated by the lie of professionalism, the lie of autonomy, the lie of the individual. We need each other like plants need rain. Without community, we will wither and die. Our nation is ill, stuffed full of these lies that only serve to dismantle us piece my piece until nothing is left but human shells, devoid of souls. This is beginning to sound morbid and a bit dramatic, but we can see it happening all around us. Read the news. Observe those alone in their cars in a sea of morning traffic. Listen to the silence of a packed elevator. Notice how infrequently you see your next-door-neighbor. It's around us. It's in us. And we need to stop believing the lies.

On that glorious note, I am going to continue my day off my sitting on the porch to watch the sunset. Erin is humming along to Mariah Carey in her room. Marilyn is pacing in the living room where Melissa is playing the Indigo Girls on guitar. Adam is singing loudly in the shower. Welcome to l'Arche.

A little M-B background

It has come to my attention that many folks are unfamiliar with Myers and Briggs as individuals and creators of the personality type indicator test. Here is a little background for you, taken from this website:

The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator Test was created by a mother/daughter team of Katharine Cook Briggs and Isabel Briggs Myers. They based their work on Carl Jung's theories about psychological type preferences. After reading Jung's work, Myers and Briggs decided to create an everyday application of his work for the general public. Myers developed the pen & pencil test in the 1940's. They tested it on friends and family during WWII hoping to resolve conflicts and help match people to appropriate work. It took over 20 years to fully develop the instrument.

Myers and Briggs also added a forth dimension to Jung's scheme focusing on how people deal with the outer world. They determined that each person has an external orientation towards orderliness and decisiveness (judgment) or towards new information and going with the flow (perception).

MBTI is one of the most widely used personality instruments in the world. Its ease of use, high statistical validity and reliability make it one the most respected personality instruments that exist. The test/retest measurement is very accurate, in 75% of cases, individuals will test the same in 3 of the 4 dimensions. Over 600 dissertations have been written on the MBTI and there are well over 1,000 articles and dozens of books. An average of 2 million people in the United States takes the MBTI each year and it has been translated into more than 30 languages.