When they made the announcement in church, I said, “I’ll take care of it when I get it in the mail.” When they sent me the easy reply card with the self-addressed stamped envelope, I said, “I’ll do it in a few days.” But when a member of the church finance committee e-mailed me the other day to say that I was on that list of church members that had not yet indicated a pledge for 2006, I knew that procrastination was no longer an option.

As most of you who have read this blog for any length of time know, I am legendary for my frugality. When traveling for the church, I pride myself for being able to do a two-week long trip in which I spend less than $1000 of God’s money. On my own, well… if you have any questions, go back and read the post about the demise of the fruit flies on November 18.

That doesn’t mean that I haven’t given to the church—after all, I heard the story of Ananias and Sapphira in Sunday School (Acts 5—and yes, I know that they were struck dead not because of how much they gave, but because they lied to the church about it. Regardless, you don’t want to take chances). But I’ve never tithed, per se. Back in the day, I always said that since Whitworth was a Presbyterian college, my tuition dollars were kind of like a tithe... and that was definitely more than 10%. Since then, I’ve basically given when I’ve been in Sunday worship. Of course, I travel so much that I usually miss at least two Sundays per month. So my giving has been spotty at best.

Then I went and joined a church. Yes, my friends, after all these years as a pseudo-Presbyterian, my name is now officially in the Frozen Chosen Book of Life. And now that I’m a member of Crescent Hill Presbyterian Church, I want to feel like I’m contributing to its ministry. Of course, I also have the friendly, no-pressure reminder asking whether I plan on giving.

So what is this tithing thing all about? Well, I opened up quite a theological can of worms, it seems, when I Googled the topic. Enter “Tithing to churches” in your search, and you will find a raging debate as to whether tithing is required of Christians. As many justly point out, many con artists promise economic blessings to those who faithfully give ten percent of their income to the church. These people often use Old Testament Scripture to justify this practice (OT tithing is referred to in passages such as Numbers 18 and Chronicles 31:4-5). Yet the web writers remind us that the New Testament, as a covenant of grace, places no set requirements on how believers should give to the church except to give out of love.

Yet the same New Testament also points us in Acts 2:45 to a church in which the believers pooled all their resources, to give as each had need. “Resources” can be interpreted loosely, and includes the time you spend teaching Sunday School, working on NNPCW projects (hint hint), or serving on the church session. In a world where so much wealth is concentrated in so few, though, it helps to remember that financial resources actually are still part of what we give to the church.

So I did the math, looked at what a rough ten percent of my take-home pay (no Ananias and Sapphira action for me—I didn’t calculate from gross, I’ll confess), and gulped. It did seem like a lot of money. Part of me didn’t really feel comfortable giving that much. And yet I think about all the material wealth I have compared to so much of the rest of the world. I’m not Bill Gates, but I have enough to hit J Crew on the weekend and buy that sweater if I really want it.

Yes, I give of my time and talents to the church. But if I really believe in the mission and ministry of the church, if I buy into the way it brings the Good News to all people of God’s abundant love, shouldn’t I be giving what I can financially to make that happen? Isn’t this an expression of gratitude to God? And in such a materialistic, self-centered world, isn’t tithing away my possessions a radically subversive act? I bit the bullet and e-mailed Jack back with my pledge for ’06.

Presbyterians, whose membership are the wealthiest per capita of any Protestant denomination in the United States, gave on average 1.5 percent of their annual income to the church back in 1997. Now, our theology doesn’t call us to give a set 10%. But it does call us to live simply and give abundantly, as Jesus Christ gave for us.

“Those who follow the discipline of Christian stewardship will find themselves called to lives of simplicity, generosity, honesty, hospitality, compassion, receptivity, and concern for the earth and God's creatures.” --Presbyterian Book of Order, W-5.5005

Kelsey

For those of you seeking a good Advent devotional resource, check out "Get Ready," the new booklet put out by the Higher Education Ministries Arena (an ecumenical group made up of denominational higher ed staff from PC(USA) and the American Baptists, Disciples, Episcopalians, Evangelical Lutherans, UCC, and United Methodists). A. Robert Hirschfeld, an Episcopalian minister, wrote this year’s resource, available online at www.higheredmin.org/meditation.html. You can also check back there for HEMA’s annual Lenten devotional guide next spring.

I try to follow along with both guides during the Advent and Lenten seasons, and today’s devotional reminded me of what I was saying yesterday about the original purpose of Advent. It was an apocalyptic meditation, based on Psalm 72. In it, Hirschfeld says about the American fascination with Hollywood disaster flicks:

"I suspect that we are getting weary of ourselves, our opulence, our collective complicity in the oppression of the poor, and in place of the rituals of church, we find in the rituals of movie-going the saving sacrifices—our comfortable suburban homes swept away by towering walls of water, Wall Street the first to get flooded, and the insensitive and greedy press getting crushed under the foot of a genetically-altered reptile.” --pg. 6

Of course, this need for purging and penance isn’t new—we simply use new technologies to express age-old angst. The Bible itself speaks of Noah’s flood and the destruction of Jerusalem. During the Black Death, self-flagellation became a popular way of displaying penance for one’s sins. Sacrifice, from the animal sacrifices of ancient Israel to the “giving up” of chocolate during Lent today, also play into this need for cleansing.

Yet the season of Advent makes an important point—this need for purging, for sacrifice to cleanse us, is available through the coming Christ child. We do indeed weary of ourselves, and of the opulence that threatens to wipe out our interconnectedness. But Jesus calls us to a new way of being, a new life that doesn’t push us away from this fallen world but instead empowers us to transform it through the Spirit. Our penance isn’t about physical sacrifices or self-flagellation, about anything we can do. Rather, we purge ourselves simply by listening for the call and living out our answers.

When we live out our answers, purging and sacrifice become joyful rather than guilty. And then, maybe our catharsis films will reflect the apocalypse of King and Ghandi, Susan Anthony and Alice Paul, the babe in the manger, rather than Godzilla.

“He shall defend the needy among the people; he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor. He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure, from one generation to another.” --Psalm 72:4-5

Kelsey

Did you ever play those games in school where you would tell the class how you felt by describing weather patterns? Well, I guess that today both the city of Louisville and I could be classified as “gloomy.” I did indeed have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, in which I both ate and shopped way too much. I wish I could say that I had observed Buy Nothing Day on Friday, but unfortunately I forgot about it until after the fact. Next year…

But alas, David left Louisville early this morning, taking the sunshine with him. He must have lost it somewhere between here and New England, though, because he’s been having a horrid time getting back to Boston (his original destination when he went to the airport yesterday afternoon…) due to all sorts of calamities. Two new destinations and twenty-four hours later, and he’s on his way to Providence, Rhode Island right now. And I’m still here.

I’ve been in the office since 7:15 am, and I feel like I really haven’t accomplished much. I think it has to do with the fact that whenever you come back from a big holiday, you have to spend the entire day talking to your coworkers about what you did. You know it would be rude not to, and anyway, there is a hint of reluctance to go back to the little offices and cubes where you don’t see anyone else all day. There’s something about the magic of the holidays, if you want to call it that, which makes even isolated, individualistic Americans want the warmth and comfort of other people. Maybe it has something to do with it being the darkest time of the year outside.

Fitting, isn’t it, that we should celebrate Jesus as the Light coming into the darkness right at the time of year when the darkness is greatest? For those of you who aren’t familiar with the liturgical calendar, Advent is upon us. We often associate Advent with joy and hope, and even non-liturgical Protestants observe it (my church growing up, a Pentecostal church, was an exception—almost every other Protestant church I’ve attended, of whatever theological stripe, has held some observance). Yet in the medieval church, Advent emphasized the Second Coming of Christ and was thus a time of penitence, kind of like Lent. Some modern liturgies, although now focusing on Christ’s birth, nod at this early tradition by emphasizing apocalyptic texts early in the Advent season. But our Advent season is a time of joy and expectation, of anticipating light in the darkness of our lives.

We are entering a season of expectation, a season of waiting—waiting for exams to be finished, waiting for dawn to come, waiting for loved ones to return to us. But most of all, we’re waiting for the Hope that is at the center of our Christian faith to meet us in Bethlehem. In a world scarred and beaten by violence, suffering, and injustice, when the darkness seems to overwhelm us, perhaps we do need a little Jesus after all. It starts as a small spark, a baby in a manger, a mustard seed in the ground. But the light shines, and darkness cannot overcome it.

“A thrill of hope,
The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn…”
--From “O Holy Night”

Kelsey

A fantastic holiday, Thanksgiving… a holiday during which I probably won’t blog, as I will be otherwise occupied. After a long six weeks, David is finally coming to Louisville again tomorrow. And how can you expect me to write while I’m gorging myself silly, anyway? Last night, as I was cruising the mall for free food samples after work (two words describe why I love Christmas—Hickory Farms), I even got to eat a mini mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy dinner at Williams-Sonoma. It just whetted my appetite for the main event.

Now, we all know the story of American Thanksgiving—I have photos of me at age six, dressed up in stereotypical Native American dress made of construction paper (my long brown braids made me a prime candidate) for the classroom celebration. So I thought, for today’s informational holiday blog, that I would find out about the Thanksgiving traditions of our friends to the north instead. Yes, Canadians celebrate Thanksgiving too. But, frankly, why?

Well, the site I looked up proudly mentioned that the settlers of Canada were among the first to celebrate harvest festivals with their native neighbors, a good 43 years before we did it at Plymouth. The first official national Thanksgiving celebration, however, in April of 1872, marked the recovery of the British Prince of Wales from a grave illness. The next Thanksgiving, in 1879, was celebrated in November. For several years following, the Canadian Parliament was in charge of annually naming a date. Apparently that was too inefficient, because the Canucks eventually declared the second Monday in October as Thanksgiving Day in 1957. That would have been October 10 this year, for the folks keeping score at home.

Like most civic holidays, Thanksgiving ultimately celebrates an event that probably isn’t as popular with some Americans. After all, it signifies the first contact European colonizers had with native peoples in this country, a process that led to the natives’ extermination via epidemic, forced removal from lands, forced integration into Euro-American culture, and so on. Like Columbus Day (a holiday that seems much less celebrated today than when I was growing up—but maybe that’s because we don’t get a day off for it anymore), Thanksgiving reminds us that what is good for some is not necessarily good for all.

Before you throw down your fork and spit out your stuffing, though, maybe we don’t have to say that Thanksgiving in and of itself is a bad holiday. After all, what does this festival really attempt to commemorate?

First of all, it draws us into communion with one another over the breaking of the bread. There is something sacred about sharing food with the people you care about—our Presbyterian communion services often remind us that people will come from east and west, north and south, to dine at the table of God. And in today’s far-flung world, where we may go for months, if not years, without seeing those we love, this takes on a very literal meaning.

On the macro level, Thanksgiving is also supposed to remind us that for one day, two very different cultures found enough common ground to enjoy the fruits of their harvest together. Despite all the injustices that were to follow in colonial-indigenous relations, for that day all people sat down to eat as equals in one community. Perhaps we need to do more to emulate that model.

And of course, the holiday reminds us to count our blessings, as cheesy as that might sound, and to share those blessings with the world. In a theological sense, it calls us to look beyond a constant, grasping “me” materialism and remember God’s rich and abundant love for each of us. Because unlike our modern, commercialized Christmas, Thanksgiving isn’t about the possessions—it is about the people that God has brought into our lives as gifts, and the ways in which God continues to express love for us through the Holy Spirit within those people. It is about thinking of the others in our lives, and renewing our commitment to relationship with them. And that deeper meaning is worth celebrating.

I once read that we should never use the word “diet” regarding food because that encourages a mentality of lack. Remember that this Thanksgiving—not only as you feast on the turkey or vegetarian alternative, but also as you consider this holiday as a person of faith. Because God calls us not to a faith of scarcity, but truly to a faith of abundance.

“For you will nurse and be satisfied at her comforting breasts; you will drink deeply and delight in her overflowing abundance." --Isaiah 66:11

Kelsey

Ahhh… I’ve almost survived the sprint toward Thanksgiving. Just two more days!! Not that Thanksgiving will be particularly relaxing, as I still have to do all the other stuff I’ve been putting off for the past month. Getting groceries, for instance. Last weekend I had several meals consisting of PB&J with cream of mushroom soup. I’ve eaten pretty much all the frozen foods and have now moved on to the canned foods in the cupboard as a last resort. The cream of mushroom, for instance, had expired in August.

The Leadership Event Planning Team met in Louisville yesterday, and the 2006 event is finally beginning to take shape. The theme, as you know, will be “Women Among Them Astounded Us: A Celebration of Women in All Generations,” and will focus on intergenerational dialogue with Presbyterian Women.

The planning team, consisting of Maren Haynes (Spokane, WA), Virginia Hines (Boston, MA), Omayra Gonzalez-Mendez (Rio Piedras, PR), and Kimberly Coblentz (Coos Bay, OR), see the event as an opportunity to break down the walls of ageism that divide us by lifting up and valuing the individual stories of all participants. This doesn’t mean, though, that we young women are going to sit back and completely absorb the knowledge of older women. What it does mean is that each story, from all generations, receives equal weight and value as unique parts of our collective experience as women.

And that leads to the second half of the event—exploring how we can build a new community of women for the future, one that shows God’s extravagant love to all. We will accomplish some of this through experiencing a day of the Churchwide Gathering of Presbyterian Women. There, we will have the opportunity to hear internationally known speakers Benedita da Silva, the first female Afro-Brazilian member of the Brazilian parliament who rose from the favelas (shantytowns) to political power, and Esther Byu, the executive secretary of the international women’s movement Fellowship of the Least Coin.

We also came up with some absolutely awesome workshop options, places where young and old will meet and discuss. Workshop opportunities will range from exploring the women’s movements of the 1960s, 70s, and 80s to discussing the future of women’s faith communities (such as the PW circle). In addition to the workshops we always have, like Sexual Ethics or Discerning Your Vocation, we will have workshops on female friendships and ageism as portrayed in the media. I’m really excited about some of the topics we will be exploring together.

Hopefully that has whetted your appetite a bit… if you’re interested in learning more about the 2006 NNPCW Leadership Event, click here. Registration doesn’t open until January, but mark your calendars NOW for July 7-11, 2006. Those who have been to leadership events in past years will tell you how transformative they are. This year’s will be no exception.

“Elihu son of Barachel the Buzite answered: ‘I am young in years, and you are aged; therefore I was timid and afraid to declare my opinion to you…. But truly it is the spirit in a mortal, the breath of the Almighty, that makes for understanding.” --Job 32:6, 8

Kelsey

So this morning when I went to make my breakfast, I noticed several hundred tiny fruit flies on my windowsill. This probably has to do with the fact that I’ve been so busy that I didn’t do the dishes before I left for Memphis (although I did take out the garbage). The thing was, they were all dead. Now, I don’t think that anyone fumigated the place while I was gone, so my only conclusion is this—the fruit flies froze to death. I’ve been too frugal to keep the heat on while I’ve been gone, so my apartment was below the lowest temperature the thermostat reads when I got home at 12:30 am this morning. But you know what? My electric bill was only $16.50 this month… and my infestation problem is solved!

Horrible news, though—the ‘Stang died on me this morning. Yes, when I came back out of the Center after unloading all the World Tour stuff and tried to start her up, she simply made this “whoomp!” noise and refused to move. I called my mom in Washington, who called my grandpa. They told me that it would probably have to be towed to a garage to have the battery replaced, but that I should call David’s parents to see where to take it.

Now, I should note at this point that I really hate asking for help of any kind from most people. My mother instilled it in me, and her parents instilled it in her. I’m always afraid of being troublesome, or being seen as taking advantage of others. And I know that David’s family already does quite a bit for me (from helping me move to drilling through a bedframe on a Saturday night so I could remove it from the apartment). But I sucked it up and called David’s dad at work, but only to find out which mechanic they would recommend.

When they heard of my problem, David’s parents responded with their characteristic generosity. My sick Mustang is now (thanks to a jump from Brianne) at the Bogdans’, where David’s dad will replace the battery for me, and I’m cruising around Louisville in their Ford Aerostar. I really wish that I didn’t have to put them out so much.

Yet at the same time, their kindness reminds me of our Christian call to not only give grace to others, but to accept the gift of grace from others. So often our individualistic culture instills in us the idea that with enough money, we can do without anyone else. We are so used to buying and selling that we think every human interaction is a zero-sum game, in which to get something we must give something equally valuable in return. But God reminds me of a little lesson in wisdom I learned when my dad passed away—sometimes we must accept grace from others, knowing that there is nothing we can do to return it in kind.

After all, isn’t this concept at the heart of the Christian faith? We’re loved and forgiven by a God that we can never possibly hope to repay. We can only accept, and then let the love God has given us spread out into every facet of our own lives. And that’s when genuine community, true transformation, takes place.

“They are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” --Romans 3:24

Kelsey

Greetings from Nashville, Tennessee! I have to go do my presentation in about five minutes, but I couldn't bear to skip a day of blogging if I could help it.

The morning began with me and Jen Ross paying our respects to the King at Graceland this morning. We loaded up at 7 am, me with my real Memphis BBQ chicken leftovers in hand for breakfast, to go to the free morning visitation they hold at Graceland. It allowed us to go up to the house, anyway, since I missed my chance to take a tour yesterday and see the shag carpet and the infamous Jungle Room. No Elvis sightings, though.

I then came to Vanderbilt University, where I've been having a great time with campus minister Jennifer Fouse. I have to go now, but I'll have more to report when I'm back in the office tomorrow.

Kelsey

It is rather cold today, in contrast to the unusually warm November we've had of late. I'm sitting here in Barth House, the Episcopal student ministry on the University of Memphis campus. Presbyterian Place participates in a joint worship service with the Episcopalians here, and so my preaching engagement this morning was in the midst of an Episcopal worship service. Now, I must say that while I've been in an Episcopalian wedding, I've never been to a worship service. I didn't follow the prayer book closely enough, unfortunately, and forgot to kneel during the confesison until halfway through-- not a big deal, unless you're sitting next to the pulpit in full view of the congregation. At least when I went to Catholic Mass in Massachusetts last fall, they assigned a good Catholic to sit next to me and keep me in line ;).

I've found that the debate here at University of Memphis about women's roles in the church is much more spirited than in other regions of the country, where gender roles tend to be challenged in more subtle ways. I actually appreciate the openness, though-- it is nice to actually have students come out and ask me about the women and silence passages in the Bible after I go on and on about women's leadership in the church.

One student last night particularly had a bee in her bonnet about what I'd said. Now, keep in mind that my presentation was based on Scripture and church teaching. I had stated both United Methodist and Presbyterian denominational policy on the role of women in the church and society, followed by a study on Acts 16:11-15 and Romans 16:1-16. Both passages have compelling stuff when you're considering what the role of women in the church should be-- Acts presents a woman convert who volunteers her house as a missionary center for Paul's ministry, while Romans 16 lists nine women who were active in all levels of the early church (including Deacon Phoebe, who it is believed delivered the letter). Anyway, I'm guessing this student had only heard the passages in the Bible about women being silent, because she was asking me all sorts of questions about it after the presentation.

And you know what? While I can give you lots of explanations for those passages, ultimately you have to come to your own conclusions about them. The best I can do is give students information about our foremothers in the faith, the women who held early churches in their homes and worked as missionaries, and then let them struggle with the Bible as they will. We all have to go through that. I just hope that the process brings each of us, women and men, to a faith that empowers us to serve God in the way we've been called rather than be stifled by flawed human institutions. And only the Holy Spirit can decide what that will look like.

I have to go now... Ken is waiting to show me around the University of Memphis, and I have to go to Graceland today!!!

Kelsey

I headed back out on the road today for another adventure-- World Tour Redux. This leg of the fall World Tour took me out to Memphis, Tennessee, where I had a wonderful time with the joint Bible study of Presbyterian Place and the Wesley House at the University of Memphis talking about women's leadership in the church. But first...

I woke up this morning in Louisville to a torrential downpour of rain, which is never a good way to start out a trip. But what the weatherman had to say only brought more discouraging news-- while this storm front would pass to the north, an even more powerful front was headed our way in the afternoon. Apparently this storm system had the potential for damaging winds, heavy rain, thunderstorms, and worst of all, possible tornado activity. By the time I got into the office this morning (after picking up a new rental car that is not a clown car), I had heard from my mother begging me not to drive into the storm... which of course, was coming from Memphis. I decided to drive on to Nashville during the quiet morning hours and see what happened, and later I chose to continue driving until I hit the storm itself. I made it all the way to Jackson, Tennessee, 75 miles outside of Memphis, before the action started.

Now, for those of you who grew up in tornado-plagued areas, none of this seems particularly traumatic. For me, from tornado-free Washington State, it was a bit freaky. I had decided to ride out the storm in a bookstore, and as I drove up the tornado sirens started. I ran into the store, where they immediately huddled us into a back hallway by the bathrooms. No one else seemed particularly perturbed by our plight. I had trouble conveying that calm to my mom, however, who couldn't get over the sirens wailing in the background. But all was well-- even though we felt the storm passing through overhead and even heard rumors that tornados had touched down within ten miles of us, nothing particularly scary happened. So I just waited out the storm and then had a fairly calm, easy drive the rest of the way into Memphis.

We held Bible Study at the Wesley House, since Presbyterian Place doesn't have large enough facilities to hold the 60 plus people who were there. Afterwards, a student showed me around one of the most unique chapels I've ever seen on a college campus. Students have divided the regular chapel room into seven smaller rooms, separated by curtains. The overall theme is emerging worship, and each room has a specific emphasis for spiritual reflection and devotion. One Zen-inspired room, for instance, includes sand and a large wooden cross to symbolize the barren times in our spiritual lives. The students built a waterfall in another room. The traditional "chapel" room, where students take communion, includes a separate holy place swathed completely in red. And one room focuses on letting students use paints, pastels, and other artistic media to express their faith. Soothing meditative music fills the chapel (and you can borrow a set of headphones and pick you own music from their collection, too). The student said that this holy space draws people from all over campus, including those who distance themselves from church. It was a fantastic idea.

Tomorrow I will head back to the University of Memphis to preach in a joint chapel service between the Presbyterians and Episcopalians. I'm also looking forward to learning more about the leadership these Presbyterian students are taking on campus and in the presbytery. Their ministry is particularly student-driven and focused, and I'm excited to see how I can help out with that. Until tomorrow!

"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the Lord, who has compassion on you. "O afflicted city, lashed by storms and not comforted, I will build you with stones of turquoise, your foundations with sapphires." --Isaiah 54:10-11

Kelsey

I’m just finally starting to unbury from the mountain of e-mails… but I have to go back out tomorrow, this time to Tennessee, so there will be another mountain waiting for me when I get back. No rest for the weary, I can tell you.

Ann Melton has come out from under her post-Women’s Advocacy rock of late, so I’m starting to get some of her forwards about different articles she’s read again (yay!). The one she sent a few days ago highlighted that ever-prevalent problem of the portrayal of women in the media. Apparently, a couple of Gallup polls have said that between 79 and 81 percent of Americans would feel comfortable with a female president. Yet honestly, despite widely expressed fears about women taking over the world, we are still relatively marginal figures in American politics.

Small wonder, though, when you look at the kind of press coverage women get. As the article pointed out, why do we have to know from the Associated Press that Harriet Miers bakes a great sweet potato pie? Or have the front page of the New York Times tell us that Condoleezza Rice is between a 6 and 8 dress size? And don’t forget Larry King Live talking about Hillary Rodham Clinton’s “fat legs.” Can you tell me anything like that about John Roberts or Ted Kennedy or Karl Rove? Do any of these facts have anything to do with these women’s actual skills or abilities?

Yet in contrast, last night I saw one more image that gives me hope that we’re doing something right, somewhere. As many of you know, I work with the youth group at my church. I was in the chapel last night with a set of sisters, cleaning up from a group project. As the elder sister sat down at the piano, the younger (maybe 10 years old?) marched up to the podium and said, “I’ll be the preacher. Good evening, everyone!” Just that morning, a female minister had baptized the girls’ baby sister into the family of God.

You know what? That’s why we do what we do—so that the girls of today and tomorrow can dream of being a minister, dream of being a professor, dream of being president. Yeah, the media may belittle and objectify women in leadership, but every day women are embodying the truth in their own lives. And some little girl, somewhere in America, is taking notice.

“When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, ‘If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.’ And she prevailed upon us.” --Acts 16:15

Kelsey

For those who have been following the blog faithfully during my travels, or are simply fretting about whether I actually did survive the 6+ hour drive back to Louisville on Wednesday night, I’m finally back in the office and semi-recovered from Part 1 of the fall World Tour. I venture back out on the road, however, next week to visit the University of Memphis and Vanderbilt University. I don’t think I’ll be doing any late-night traveling heroics, however, if I can help it.

After I wrote from Missouri Valley College on Wednesday, I went and gave the presentation on women’s leadership in the church throughout history for two groups—one a class, the other a group of students who had showed up to get extra credit. I think most of the class slept through my presentation. I found it interesting, though, that some said they didn’t see why women couldn’t be ministers, “if they were qualified for the job” (always interesting, how people question the qualifications of women to be ministers). I would say that many of them, though, weren’t really comfortable with the idea of women being ministers in their own churches. At least we’re going somewhere, though.

Next I headed to First Presbyterian Church in Columbia for a meeting with the church’s campus ministry on the University of Missouri campus. I got incredibly lost on the way there—if Expedia or Mapquest are wrong (and my directions misled me twice in Columbia), then you’re pretty much up a creek without a paddle if you don’t have an independent map. Though I was 20 minutes late, luckily none of the students had showed up for dinner yet. I had a good time telling them about opportunities to get involved with the PC(USA). They loved the “Jesus Loves Feminists” t-shirts, too.

And then I started back to Louisville, six hours away, at 7:30 pm Central time. It was a horridly long drive for that hour, and I couldn’t talk much on Hagar to alleviate the pain (battery problems). So when I ran into late-night road construction outside of St. Louis, I seriously almost cried. If you remember, I was also without a CD player, and the radio was my only friend as I drove across Missouri… and Illinois… and Indiana before finally reaching Louisville at 3:15 am Eastern. Highlights included “You’re the One that I Want” from Grease, two Cyndi Lauper classics, and Madonna’s “Like a Prayer.” But the little red clown car got me there safely, and Hagar’s battery didn’t die. Thank God for a safe journey.

I did listen to some talk radio, too, including a segment about “God’s Blueprint for the Perfect Woman” or something like that. I’m tempted to vent about this male minister’s ensuing male-focused sermon on women, but I’ll refrain today. Maybe something for another blog post.

“But I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to argue my case with God.” --Job 13:3

Kelsey

My lockout woes continue... I locked the keys to the little red clown car in the trunk last night before my presentation at Westminster College. It is embarassing to say this, but this is the second time this year that I've locked the keys to a rental car in my trunk on the World Tour. David is right when he says that despite all the anti-lockout preventative measures they put on those cars, you can't idiot-proof everything. So I had to wait for AAA to come break me into the car (no, I have not yet acquired any carjacking skills). Of course, I had my cell phone on silent mode for the presentation, so when they called me to ask where I was, I didn't hear it. I didn't get home until around 10 or 10:30 pm last night, and I was here at Missouri Valley College in Marshall at 8:30 am.

Yesterday I had lots of fun with the folks at Central Missouri State University and Westminster College. Both groups were looking to expand their ministries into different directions, to fill specific niches on campus. At CMSU, there was a lot of talk about reviving a peer ministry program that had once existed there. We discussed how, especially for students that come from small rural areas, the complex issues that face college students can be overwhelming. It helps to have a peer, someone a bit less intimidating than a minister, to share doubts and confusion with as you sort those things out. Incidentally, we also had a conversation about Facebook-- what does it mean when people you don't even know can find out everything about you?

Westminster is a Presbyterian school, formerly male-only, about 900 students. I met with a group of young women for dinner and essentially gave them the NNPCW pitch. They were interested-- apparently there aren't many overtly faith-based social justice groups on campus, and really not much at all for women. One of the students said that this lack of social opportunities for women on campus actually turned some students off to attending the college. From what they said, the need for something NNPCW-related is there. Hopefully they'll be able to get a group started.

I've also been plugging the 2006 Leadership Event, Women Among Them Astounded Us: A Celebration of Women in All Generations, during this trip. For those of you who don't know, the event will be held July 7-11, 2006 in Louisville, KY, and will focus on intergenerational dialogue. I'm also thinking that part of it, in light of the anniversaries of women's ordination coming up, will also be a celebration of women's history within the church as well as a looking toward the future. More details will come as the planning team meets on November 20.

I'll be traveling back to Louisville tonight after my presentation at the University of Missouri-Columbia. It is about a six hour drive, plus we move an hour ahead in the time zone. So be thinking about me, and I'll be sure to blog either tomorrow or Friday to sum up the trip. Missouri Valley College has been interesting thus far, watching students in one of Chaplain Tim Kiser's classes try to bend their minds around the nature of truth. Ah, some days I miss the classroom.

"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." --Isaiah 40:30-31

Kelsey

Those of you who have spent time with me know that the World Tour is famous for its adventures. Each tour presents a challenge, kind of like an episode of Survivor, except that I won't win a million dollars when I finish the trip (unless they're hiding it from me somewhere at the Presbyterian Foundation...). I've gotten lost, locked my car keys in my trunk, and had a nice visit with Reynaldo from Nicaragua at 4 am. Well, my friends, Kelsey has acquired a new skill on this tour's adventure-- breaking and entering.

So I was all by myself at Beth Ruhl's house yesterday morning when I decided to start packing my car for my departure to Kansas City. I took out the camera and my suitcase, leaving the laptop and my bag (including Hagar and the World Tour Planner with all my directions and phone numbers) in the house. I closed the door behind me as I walked out, just as any safe, energy-concious person would. Only then did I realize that the door had locked behind me.

Now I knew that I was in a bad spot. I had my car keys, yes, but had no idea of how to get to Kansas City (plus I had no license, and Lord knows you don't want to drive without your license!). Hagar the Cell Phone, my lifeline in times of trouble, was in the house, so I had no way to call the home's owners even if I did know their number... and of course I didn't know, so driving down the street to use a phone wouldn't do me much good. I figured I could try to find my way to Beth's apartment and hope that she would come home after class, but that would entail sitting on her doorstep all afternoon with nothing to do. And of course, I was supposed to leave for my appointment in Kansas City within the hour.

First, I frantically started searching around the house in all the places where someone might put a spare housekey. All I can say is that if the Ruhls had one, it was very, very well hidden (although I turned up some sow bugs under the planter box...). Yes, I tried all the doors, too-- locked. So I went around to the backyard and did the same. No luck there, either.

I stepped back from the house, clearing my mind and trying to think "out of the box" for alternate solutions, let the Spirit move, all that good stuff. And then I remembered all those movies where you see kids get into their locked houses through the window (and who says Hollywood doesn't teach you anything useful). I thought to myself, "Well, it's worth a shot...." As I looked around at the windows, I noticed one with some sort of foam boards covering it, which in my mind signaled that it might be broken. It was also ground level, which is always good. I walked up to it and popped the screen covering off, hoping to find an empty window on the other side.

The glass pane was there, and it was closed. But then, as I tried prying it up with my hand, the window creakily slid open. So I just knocked over the foam board covering the window on the other side, lifted my leg over the sill, and climbed on into Beth's old room. The dog didn't even bark.

So that's my story of how I broke into Beth Ruhl's house. May I just say that it is a bit disconcerting how easy it was-- I'm glad my apartment is on the third story. I did close the window behind me and replace everything as best I could, and I called Beth to explain what I'd done. But I did get to Kansas City on time, and I left them a nice note and chocolates... hopefully they won't be too mad.

Today I'm at NNPCW alumna Megan Cornell's apartment, where she did in fact make me the promised origami crane with her eyes closed (as shown in the above photo). I will try not to break into her place, too.

"But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal." --Matthew 6:20

Kelsey

PS-- Of course, I did not steal anything!

PPS-- Good to hear from you, Viola!

I'm starting to feel kind of lonely out here in cyberspace, with days going by since the last time anyone posted a comment. Where's Viola? Rebecca and Mashadi? Someone from CoCo? It's kind of like being the kid who came to school when all the others were out with the flu. But, "Anonymous" (you and I both know who you are), don't take this as an open invitation.

Yesterday was great-- I had conversations with two groups here in Kansas, one at the University of Kansas and one at Kansas State. Both sets talked specifically about feminism, a topic that I've found particularly intriguing to talk about with students since my trip to Thailand.

At KU, I met with a mixed group of younger and older women and men at the Ecumenical Christian Ministries. Now, ECM and its campus minister, Thad Holcombe, have been with NNPCW literally since the beginning-- they were one of the original 30 pilot project schools back in the early 1990s. We started out be defining the word "feminism" on a notecard, and the group took off from there. As people talked, they found that second wave feminists had been particularly concerned with equality in the workplace. The younger women, by contrast, talked much more about the overarching nature of inequality that extended beyond sexism, and also focused more on personal safety-- the desire to be free from the violence against women that restricts our daily lives. When we turned the discussion to religion, it became clear that it hadn't been kind to many of the women there... but none of them had seemed to give up on the church, which was encouraging.

At K-State, I had a bit different group. These were peers in age, but this group had several more men in it. To their credit, the men were very good about listening to the opinions of the women in the group when we started talking about feminism. And to their credit, the women in the group were honest about what they thought. Like the KU folks, the people at K-State felt that equality among all people was a good thing, something that was ultimately compatible with Christian faith. Some had problems with, though, those feminists who seemed to indicate that feminism was about women's superiority to men. Others argued that if feminism was really about equality for all marginalized groups, then why were we calling it "feminism" and labeling it only in relation to women? And we did get into the Biblical passages enjoining women to be silent in the churches, talking about their historical context and all the other prominent women mentioned in both the Old and New Testaments as leaders of the faith (Deborah, Mary Magdalene, Lydia, Phoebe...). It was a really well-balanced discussion.

I like these Kansas folks.

"'Martha, Martha,' the Lord answered, 'you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.'" --Luke 10:41-42

Kelsey

Okay, so maybe that is a bit of an overstatement. But Kelsey, Hagar the Cell Phone, and the little red clown car did have an interesting encounter on the great prarie of Missouri with a wild bison herd...

I decided on my day off today that I would visit Missouri's Prarie State Park, the largest remaining tallgrass prarie in the state. So after visiting Harry S. Truman's birthplace in Lamar, the little red clown car and I trundled down the gravel road out toward the prarie. I knew it would be interesting when I saw park signs that said, "Do Not Leave Vehicle-- Bison Herds Roam Freely." Sure enough, as I drove along I could see a herd grazing off in the distance.

When I later told the folks at the visitor's center that I wanted to go for a prarie walk, they told me that I needed to be careful to keep a 200 yard distance between myself and any bison I might encounter. If approached, they said, I should move casually and slowly away from the animal, being sure not to make any sudden moves. Easier said than done when you're dealing with the largest terrestial creature in North America. As I crested the hill leaving the visitor's center and saw "rocks" with swishing tails, I decided I didn't want to push my luck and turned back to the center. But that wasn't my only wildlife encounter...

I was driving back out of the park when I looked ahead and saw that the bison herd had moved all the way to the edge of the road. The little red clown car trembled as we approached-- would the bison become angry and try to charge the car? Should I turn back? I slowly crept forward as the first bison lifted his head and looked straight at me. He (or she) then turned back and started chowing down on the grass. I took this as a sign that the herd wasn't interested in me... and then I pulled out my camera and started frantically snapping photos of the bison out my window as the little red clown car passed by. As I looked behind me at the gate of the park, they were all still there, unperturbed by the crazy tourist in their midst.

From Bangkok cabs to the Great Plains-- always an adventure.

I'm at Beth Ruhl's house now, baking cookies for tomorrow's presentation on faith and feminism at the University of Kansas. Don't ever think that empowered Christian feminists can't do some serious damage with a Kitchen-Aid stand up mixer.

Kelsey

I love the Midwest... people here are so friendly. I came into the public library and told them I was a visitor who wanted to use their password-protected computers, and they just fixed me right up with a visitor ID number. And they always feed me well.

I'm currently in Springfield, Missouri, where I just visited Missouri State University. Missouri State has a thriving campus ministry that is in the midst of renovating a great house for their activities. The folks I had lunch with told me all about the types of ministries they do at MSU, from their own campus Habitat for Humanity chapter to three book discussion nights a week. I was also impressed with the spirit of cordiality that existed between various campus ministries at MSU. Apparently, there are 15 different denominational campus ministries that sit together on a campus board. And after traveling around the country, believe me when I say that it is no small feat to get the Assemblies of God, Baptist, UCC, Presbyterian, and Catholic campus ministries on the same campus ministry board together. That seemed unique in my travels, but very, very encouraging. We really don't have to be enemies.

During our lunch, the campus minister brought up a point that is very salient, I think, to the future of campus ministry. He remarked that in these ministries, we often fail to associate our social justice work with our Christian faith. We can go out and build Habitat houses, or advocate on Capitol Hill, or do street protests if we want. But there is something even more meaningful in proclaiming to the world that those actions are a direct outgrowth of our belief in Christ. It is an affirmation for ourselves, and a witness to the world.

Honestly, I think that there are too many of us out there who are afraid that we will be considered "Bible thumpers" if we say that we're doing justice work from a faith perspective. We're often also the same people who have faith in Jesus Christ, but are almost shy of the label "Christian" for the baggage it carries with it these days. Yet think about this-- if we never associate the work we do in the name of Christ with the word "Christian," will God's love ever be revealed to anyone? We don't have to be evangelical in the sense that we condemn people to hell if they don't believe as we believe-- that's not productive, or Christ-like. But what's wrong with showing God's love in the everyday work we do?

The word "witness" may have some Bible thumping connotations for some of you. But for me, witnessing means just letting God's love shine through me in the choices I make, in the ways I treat others, and in my speaking out for justice. Witnesses aren't judges or juries-- I don't have to tell you what to believe or what to do. But I think it's okay if other people know that the things I do tie directly into my Christian faith.

Okay, so maybe the Bible Belt has been rubbing off on me-- feel free to call me on it. But please, let's stop being embarrassed about Christianity and start showing the world what it really means to us.

"But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." --Acts 1:8

Kelsey

The radio sunk to new lows this morning on my drive to Batesville... I actually heard a station play "Ice Ice Baby." I got quite amused, actually, and busted a couple of moves there in the car. And you've gotta love Vanilla Ice's "word to yo' mama."

I'm enjoying a beautiful, sunny day here at Lyon College, a PC(USA)-related school of roughly 500. I just finished with the campus tour from chaplain Nancy McSpadden. It is a beautiful campus, and a very hospitable college. I preached at chapel this morning (my sermon on Mary Magdalene), and then told students about NNPCW at a lunch following the service. I was impressed with the mission-oriented nature of campus ministries here-- on a campus in rural Arkansas, with students from diverse theological backgrounds, students come together around service and urban ministries: two young women are attempting to bring a Habitat for Humanity chapter to Batesville. And for those of you who went on the DOOR realistic Chicago tour at last summer's Leadership Event, Lyon students did DOOR's weeklong program on urban ministry in Chicago last spring break.

One other note-- apparently Lyon is huge on its Scottish heritage. The school has its own registered tartan, and brings 5000-6000 Scottish Americans from around the country for its annual Highland Games. My PC(USA) college never did anything that cool.

Since I'm using Nancy's computer, and since she can't use it until I get off, I'd better wrap things up. I'm going to little Black Rock now to meet my 90-something year old great-great aunt, and I figured her house wouldn't exactly be a Wi-Fi hotspot. Yes, my friends, I have Arkansas roots-- my Rice grandparents were born and raised here. I head to Springfield, Missouri, tomorrow, though, and then actually have a day off. Finally I can get some sleep!!!

"Call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me." --Psalm 50:15

Kelsey

Good evening, y'all, from Memphis, Tennessee. No, I didn't get a chance to see Graceland today, but I'm hoping to be able to do that when I come back later this month for a presentation with the University of Memphis. CoCo member Jen Ross has promised to take me, so I'll be sure to report on that when I've visited.

First of all, let me tell you that I have the junkiest rental car ever this time-- a red Chevy Aveo. When Jen saw it tonight, she called it a clown car! But its small size isn't what makes it such an awful car. Besides the fact that I have to lock it from the outside when the door is open, I mainly hate this car because it doesn't have a CD player. Have you ever driven across the state of Tennessee? Do you know what the radio is like here? And tomorrow I"ll be in rural Arkansas. I started singing to myself at one point for entertainment, the radio stations were so bad. I was actually excited to hear the songs Footloose and Maggie May twice each on the six hour drive here from Louisville.

Tonight I was the opening act for headling moderator Rick Ufford-Chase, who stopped by on his way to the Covenant Network conference that is happening this weekend here in Memphis. Actually, I had an awesome turnout-- 15 young women for a presentation about women and the church. This group of young women, unlike groups I meet in most other parts of the country, seemed acutely aware of the limitations on women seeking to follow God's call into the ministry. I didn't even have to bring up issues of family versus work, the stained glass ceiling, and the discrimination that still persists against women in the ministry in the call process. One woman in particular talked about sharing her excitement over her call with a friend, only to be met with total and complete silence. It was obvious, she said, that he didn't affirm her. Others spoke up about the need for women to be bold in their understanding of Scripture and in interpreting their calls.

Jen told me that she was quite surprised by the turnout for this presentation (more people actually showed up to hear me than to hear the moderator-- probably the first, last, and only time that will ever happen). I don't think the good numbers have anything to do with me, though-- my sense was that women on this campus needed a place to express their questions about the Bible and their feelings about women's roles in the church. I'm hoping that Jen and some of the others might tap into that energy and form a group here.

I'm off to Lyon College in Batesville, Arkansas tomorrow to preach in the chapel service, and then I'll go visit some long-lost relatives in Black Rock. I'll try to post for you all before I leave Lyon, though!

So check back tomorrow for more adventures with Kelsey, Hagar the Cell Phone, and the little red clown car.

"God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in trouble." --Psalm 46:1

Kelsey

Well, my friends, I made it back from Thailand in one piece, and now I have one day in Louisville before everyone's favorite adventure-- World Tour Time!! I leave tomorrow for Memphis, where I'll spend the evening with the folks at Rhodes College before moving on to little Lyon College in Batesville, Arkansas. As far as jet lag goes, I'm feeling pretty good right now. I'm just thinking that in the next few days, Starbucks will become my best good friend. Sorry for all you anti-Starbucks folk out there... it is hard to find local coffeeshops when you're traveling.

After the conference on Sunday, Ann, Molly and I went on an official guided tour of the city of Bangkok with Song. Song, who had worked on transportation for the entire conference, said that he went home every night to tell his wife the crazy things he had seen those feminists doing at that conference, and she never believed him. Apparently we were not your typical international conference. Anyway, Song showed us the world's largest Buddha made of solid gold, worth over $40 million dollars, as well as a giant reclining Buddha at the Wat Pho temple (here is a photo). We also saw a marble royal temple that held the ashes of Rama V, the king of Thailand you all may remember as the boy prince in The King and I. Fun times, I can assure you. I also went to the famous Patpong Night Market, where I discovered that I am a horrible barterer. But hey, live and learn.

Last thoughts about the AWID conference... all in all, it was a good, well-done event. Any event that challenges me and causes me to think through my own understanding of feminism is worthwhile, and this event certainly did that. The one thing I would challenge from the conference lie in the binary dualisms that in some ways it challenged and in other ways perpetuated. The feminist movement is very big on critiquing the way in which our society tends to put gender in black/white, good/bad binaries-- for instance, masculine traits are good and feminine traits are bad; reason good, emotion bad, etc-- without recognizing the ways in which we are more often both/and rather than either/or. And yet, when it comes to talking about people who think radically differently, many times I found the conference still falling into that good/bad binary, that combative "us against them" mentality. Yet as we continue to wage war against those who disagree with us, don't we continue to perpetuate the cycles that don't bring about transformation?

Now, I want to make clear that I'm not talking about the need to stand up and speak out for justice. When we see wrongs in the world, God calls us to be the prophetic voice for change. But do we have to always see the "other" as our enemy? Maybe that's what Jesus means when he talks about loving your enemies, blessing those who curse you-- he is calling us to change the entire way in which we think about combat and those who oppose us. Because I don't really think (despite some old gospel songs I know) Christianity is about "winning" as such. Christianity is about the transformation of the world into a place where everyone wins in the end.

"But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." --Matthew 5:44

Kelsey