Ever notice how the news media have to give a title and a theme song to every halfway notable event these days?

Example: We had a record-breaking amount of rain in our region over the weekend, which was quickly dubbed "The Flood of 2006." News updates on the weather could not take place without dramatic music playing in the background and the words "The Flood of 2006" superimposed somewhere on the screen.

I find this troubling. On the one hand, such action tends to overdramatize certain events. I do not want to downplay the events of this weekend--several lives were lost and much property was damaged--but when the "Flood of 2006" gets the same branding as the events currently taking place in the Middle East, it can seem like an overdramatizion.

At the same time, however, such branding also tends to trivialize the same event that also seems overdramatized. The fact that the severe weather we had over the weekend was given a title and a theme song moves it to the realm of the ridiculous, and as a result, it is ridiculed rather than reflected upon with the seriousness it deserves.

Theme songs and titles are the things of Hollywood. In my opinion they do not belong as a part of serious news media. Then again, they crop up in other "serious" places, too, including the church. Are such tools useful in conveying the most serious message that exists: the good news of the gospel? Or do they actually work against the message by mockingly overdramatizing it, and therefore simultaneously trivializing it?

(Just a few thoughts after a long weekend of cleaning out a flooded basement. Share your own thoughts with me...)

Noelle

This blog post isn't going to consist of any formulated thoughts, but rather some questions that have been floating around in my head today.

Let me tell you where I'm coming from first. Last night I went to my third childbirthing class. Today I went to my 30-week checkup with my obstetrician. And just a few minutes ago, I spoke with a colleage who was at an informational session on women's gynecologic health earlier today.

All of these events have caused me to realize one thing: I do not know my body as well as I should.

And here are my questions:

Why not? We live in the "information age." I know tons of useless things about tons of useless topics. Why don't I know my own body better than I do?

How well do you know your body?

What role, if any, does the church have in helping all people--but perhaps especially women, whose bodies have been demonized for eons--to better know and listen to their bodies? Is this beyond the church's mission? We are told to be stewards of creation. Should this not extend to the flesh and bone casings of humankind, men and women created in God's image?

My main question for you: What are your thoughts?

Noelle

Fall is quickly approaching. It was only 51 degrees this morning when I left for work. I even had to turn the car heater on for a little while to warm up my feet during my short commute.

I love autumn. Its only downfall is that it never seems to last long enough. Just as soon as the leaves reach their peak, they are replaced by the cold and barren branches of the trees they’ve left behind. There is something necessary, however, in having fall as a transition from summer to winter, our two longest seasons in Louisville. Fall prepares us for the long dark of winter, just as spring reawakens us to experience the deep warmth of summer.

Having grown up in Los Angeles, I didn’t experience seasons like I now know them in Louisville. The weather is stereotypically near perfect in Los Angeles, with “winter” consisting of days mostly in the 50s and 60s. During my childhood, therefore, the seasons of the church provided a rhythm to life that weather patterns could not provide. I left the liturgical Lutheran church I was raised in and began attending a non-denominational church at the age of 15. We didn’t follow the church calendar, except to celebrate Easter and Christmas, two holidays that seemed to come out of nowhere without the preparatory time of Advent and Lent. Those years of attending a non-denominational church in Los Angeles left me feeling aimless in a lot of ways. I realize now that it was largely because there were no yearly seasons in my life. Time became linear, and I needed the repetition of cyclical time, of seasonal life, to give me structure and guidance.

I don’t enjoy winters here in Louisville, and summers can be a little too humid for my Southern California sensibilities, but I endure them knowing that another season is always on its way. This gives me hope. Hope for my life, for the life of the church, and for the life of the world.

Katie and I are deep into last-minute logistics for NNPCW's fall Coordinating Committee, so this will be short and to the point:

Go see the film Little Miss Sunshine.

I have not laughed so hard at a movie since...I can't even remember when. What I like most about Little Miss Sunshine is how it is at once hilarious, disturbing, and redemptive. There are gospel themes woven throughout, probably unintentionally. It is an example of how Christ is so prone to break through into this mundane world of ours, even through such a lowly medium as film.

Go see it, and then let me know what you think...

Noelle

I read an article in Wednesday’s New York Times, “To Stay Alive, Iraqis Change Their Names.” Whether Sunni or Shiite, men and women are being executed on the spot if they have a suspect name or a hometown dominated by the rival sect. This has sent thousands of Iraqi civilians in search of a mask. A mask to hide the very essence of who they are – their names. They know it is a shameful act; but it is moreso a matter of survival. They have no choice. I have searched within myself for the right words to say about this. After reading the article, I was angry – ready to deliver a hot-tempered manifesto on being/owning/living into one’s name – and that everyone must have that right. Now, as I sit down to type, my message is quite simple. This makes me profoundly sad. To be named is intended to be life-giving, not life-taking. So I am sad and also deeply grateful. Grateful to be called “Katie.” Grateful that when I hear my name called in the street I am not brutally killed on the spot. Grateful that my name makes me unique, for many reasons. Grateful that I can be proud. Grateful that I do not, and most likely never will have to make that choice. Song lyrics come to mind:

I need love, love’s divine…
Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name.

Any thoughts?

In the name of the One who called us by name,
katie

Lucky you. Yesterday it was all about different methods of birthing. Today it’s about breastfeeding.

Only it’s not really about breastfeeding. It’s about justice. A colleague in Presbyterian Women shared an article with me today about the “two-class” system that exists for working mothers who are also trying to nurse their babies.

The basic gist of the article is this: While doctors and public health officials insist that “breast is best” (I didn’t make it up; that’s a real slogan), society is structured in such a way that only makes breastfeeding accessible for working moms in mid- to high-level professional jobs. For working-class women, however, breastfeeding becomes almost impossible.

Why? There are no policies in place that provide working-class women with what they need to breastfeed their babies. The main way working moms provide breast milk to their babies is by pumping at work, and bringing their milk home. Working-class women are not provided the time and the space necessary to do this. The article cites a Starbucks employee who had to pump her breast milk in the customers’ restroom, all while counting down the minutes until her short break was over.

In my opinion, this was the most poignant line of the article:
“It is a particularly literal case of how well-being tends to beget further well-being, and disadvantage tends to create disadvantage — passed down in a mother’s milk, or lack thereof.”

Well-being tends to beget further well-being, and disadvantage tends to create disadvantage. This is how the world is—but is it how the world should be?

I claim that it is not. When the prophets speak of the world that God envisions for God’s people, themes of justice and equality abound. A society in which well-being begets further well-being and disadvantage creates disadvantage is exactly the kind of society God railed against through the prophets:

“Alas for those who lie on beds of ivory, and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock, and claves from the stall…. You have turned justice into poison and the fruit of righteousness into wormwood.” (Amos 6:4, 12)

Jesus calls us to follow him. If we are to answer that call, part of what that means is joining him in what he says the Spirit of Lord anointed him to do:

“The Spirit of the Lord us upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Women who cannot currently breastfeed their babies because unjust policies are currently in place do not need our charity. They need justice. They do not need a breast pump drive or a public education campaign as to why “breast is best.” They need us to stand with them in demanding adequate breaks and adequate space so that they can breastfeed.

The poor, the blind, the oppressed—none of these need our charity. They need us to walk alongside them, in Jesus’ footsteps, and to overturn systems of injustice that make charity necessary.

Noelle

I would encourage you to read the article I have alluded to in its entirety at:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/01/health/01nurse.html?ex=1157774400&en=73902774845d88ce&ei=5059&partner=AOL