Zora’s response to my contention that she is turning into a picky eater.
“I’ll eat cereal and french fries and mac n cheese and honey and fruit snacks and apples with peanut butter with the skins off and not poached eggs and peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches without jelly, and that’s about it. I’ll eat candy except chocolate but sometimes I eat chocolate. I forgot to say fruit but I didn’t want to say fruit.”
We made a big decision this fall, and now that it’s public to my congregation, I’ll post it here.
Short version: I’m leaving my current call in about nine months. We’ll be relocating so that we are much closer to Erik’s job in city sometime over the summer.
Erik and I decided that there had to be a time-limit on how long we could sustain the combination of his commute and both of our job schedules and responsibilities. It wasn’t so much about adding a second kid, or having two of us working, just the unfortunate confluence of schedules, distance, and lack of sanity.
If you want the long version, the letter to the congregation follows:
Dear Congregation:
After discussion and prayer, Erik and I have decided that I will be resigning as one of your associate pastors effective August 31, 2011.
It was a difficult decision to come to. Professionally, I don’t feel it’s the ideal time to leave. But it is a decision we have to make for the sake of our family.
Earlier this fall, when we started discussing how we would handle a second child, we realized that the biggest challenge to our family functioning well was not so much an additional child, but the growing strain of the demands of Erik’s job coupled with his commute. In the excitement about our pregnancy, we had not really paused to notice that in the same time frame, his responsibilities at work were ramping up, making it more and more difficult for him to adjust his work schedule to suit the needs of my work schedule and for our family to spend any quality time together on a regular basis.
After running through a number of alternate childcare scenarios, work schedule changes, and possible changes in where we live, we realized that what was right for us at this time was for me to resign and for us to relocate closer to Erik’s job.
We plan to move this summer when our lease is up, and I will commute back until the end of August.
I settled on the end of August date as a way to honor commitments to the church (finishing out a program year and beginning planning for the next; concluding the Worship Renewal Grant; assisting the congregation while other pastors are on sabbaticals; seeing through summer ministries such as Go n Serve, VBS, and Montreat), but also to balance the needs of family (in particular that Zora will start kindergarden in 2011, so we need to be settled in time for her to begin at her new school).
I did not come to this decision easily. Fox Valley Presbyterian Church has been a wonderful place to do ministry and we will all think well of our five years here with all of you. We will miss you and miss living and worshipping and doing ministry with you. As I said earlier, it does not feel like the right time in terms of call, career, or profession. But the way to be most faithful to God’s calling is to put my marriage and family first.
The session has been notified at its meeting this week, and an additional letter should arrive about the same time as this one addressed to middle school and high school youth. (If there is a middle or high schooler in your house, I would ask that you make sure to point them toward that letter.)
We are choosing to announce this decision so far in advance so that I can be helpful in every way possible in setting children’s and youth ministries up for a successful transition, and so that we can begin planning for our move without feeling like there is a great secret looming.
In Christ’s Peace,
Erica Schemper
Please feel free to use this, other youth people. (I’d appreciate if you let me know in the comments…that you did use it, and, even better, if it worked.) I know the next few weeks can get a little out of hand!!!
We are planning to use this with our youth group in small groups for a 20 minute discussion after a scheduled viewing of Elf this Sunday.
Introduction
(Especially for leaders, for the group if you think its appropriate and there’s time)
I was shopping for some Christmas decorations in Hobby Lobby this past week, and I noticed that there were ornaments, and snow globes, and other things that portrayed Santa Claus kneeling at the foot of the manger.
At first, this struck me as a really bizarre scene. But then, I thought about it, and remembered that, of course, Santa is based on Saint Nicholas, the 4th century Bishop of the city of Myra (in what is today Turkey). The story goes that Nicholas was an incredibly generous man, and once secretly placed gold in the stockings of three young women whose families were too poor to pull together dowries for them. December 6 is the feast of St. Nicholas. In some countries, December 5 is the night when you put out a shoe or boot in expectation of gifts from saint Nicholas arriving in the morning.
The historical Nicholas was a true servant of Jesus Christ, and, even though he wasn’t in Bethlehem when Jesus was born, had he been, he would have been kneeling at the manger to worship Jesus!
Some Christians are so disturbed by what Santa represents today that they have tried to get rid of him. But maybe there’s a middle way. The ornament with Santa kneeling in front of Jesus is a little weird, but not a bad reminder that many of our Christmas traditions in “the world” outside of church are based on Christian belief.
Elf is a great movie to use as a jumping point to discuss the ways in which some of our “worldly” ideas about Christmas come from and actually support our Christian beliefs about the season.
Christmas in Elf/Christmas in Church
Take a few minutes to brainstorm and agree on a list of the 5 most important meanings of Christmas in Elf. Switch gears and try to come up with the 5 most important meanings of Christmas that you learn from church. Do any of them match? Do any of them conflict? How are the same? How are they different?
A Child Shall Lead Them
This is Isaiah’s vision of the new kingdom that Jesus will bring to earth. It’s traditionally read in church during Advent. (Also the sermon text from church this morning!!!)
The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. Isaiah 11
Where do you see the following themes in the passage:
The mean and the meek living together in peace
The innocence of children as guides
Other themes that stick out at you?
Where are these themes reflected in Elf?
Buddy’s Outlook on Life
Compare Buddy’s outlook on life to the following passage:
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Philippians 4
Other Bible passages that could relate to the ideas in Elf…
Feel free to work with these if you have time or it anyone in group seems interested in one of these topics…or it one really inspires you during the film!!
Adoption
For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God Romans 8
Childlike Faith
At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. Matthew 18
See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure. 1 John 3
Gifts and Giving
The point is this: the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work. As it is written, “He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.” 2 Corinthians 9
Faith/Belief
Compare this passage to the ideas about the Claus-O-Meter…is it harder for us to believe in something we can’t see than it was for people a long time ago to believe in what they could not see?
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. Hebrews 11
Sin/Repentance/Forgiveness
How do ideas in the movie about sin, repentance, and forgiveness (i.e. the “Naughty List”) fit with Christian ideas about these things?
Then I saw a great white throne and the one who sat on it; the earth and the heaven fled from his presence, and no place was found for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Also another book was opened, the book of life. And the dead were judged according to their works, as recorded in the books.
Revelation 20
O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.
For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.
The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
Psalm 51
The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always accuse, nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.
For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust.
As for mortals, their days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children
Psalm 103
Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122
Fox Valley Presbyterian Church
If you were here last week, you know that Pastor Carl recommended the practice of making it through a whole church year. It’s New Year’s Day for the church calendar today. You could start afresh and make it through the whole year. This is your chance! Maybe, on the first Sunday of Advent, churches should look a little like gyms on January 2.
In all honesty, this is one of those Sundays when I think it might be easier to stay home. To begin with, there are the obvious things like the post-turkey hangovers, shopping exhaustion, extra time with families, cozy pajama mornings, and, of course, travel on Sunday to get home by Monday.
But, if you can get around all those obstacles, it’s also hard to know which holiday you are supposed to be working with when you come through the doors. We’ve still got the Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge. Some of us spent the last few days making over our homes, switching out the pumpkins and dried corn for green and red. A few people might even be done with their Christmas shopping.
So, you arrive at church this morning in this strange breach between the time of pumpkins and holly berries, and what do we church people do? We start telling you that it’s not Thanksgiving OR Christmas. It’s Advent. Feel free to head to the stores to hear your favorite carols, but we are going to hold out on full-out-singing of them in church for a few more weeks. And, yes, that is purple and pink, not red and green all over the sanctuary. It might be Christmas out there, but in here we are making you wait! It’s enough to make me wonder if, among Black Friday and Cyber Monday, we ought to call this “Discombobulation Sunday”.
And then there’s the other reason to call it “Discombobulated”. In this season when, on every side, we are surrounded by reminders of sweetness and light, we know that everything is not right in the world. I’ve started too many Advents hit with bad news. This year, it was the news of the death of a favorite college professor. At age 55, he died of cancer, still quoting his favorite poets, reciting sonnets about light and dark, the great contrast of this time of year.
But it’s not just death that tells us things aren’t right. Imagine the pain of a couple struggling with infertility in a season when there is so much talk of babies; the idea that there is peace coming when North and South Korea are fighting again; the idea that there is hope if you are jobless or homeless or friendless; the thought of joy when you are overcome by grief.
Since Advent is about waiting, though, the pain and expectation of waiting, I am grateful for this time to counter the messages that everything is cozy and alright in the world.
So, if you had a hard time dragging yourself here this morning, I get it. It’s a confusing day. And I’m not sure I’m about to make it any better.
See, the plate of Bible texts we have to pick from this morning includes what we just read from Isaiah and Psalm 122. And all of sudden, I am stuck back on Thanksgiving. Because there is that whole “city on a hill” image…which is tied in with our historic picture of the earliest EUropean settlers in New England. It wasn’t a phrase that the group who we think of celebrating the first Thanksgiving are remembered for, but a subsequent group of religious immigrants used: In a 1630 sermon, John Winthrop, still on board the ship Arabella with his group of puritans, set out what ought to be the basis of their society. Toward the end comes this famous line:
For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us. So that if we shall deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken, and so cause Him to withdraw His present help from us, we shall be made a story and a by-word through the world.
Winthrop and his group were not looking so much to make a new community as a new society. The sometimes undeserved and stereotypical stuff we place on the Puritans today (stuffy, cold, fundamentalists who thought a bit too much of their own importance) isn’t totally deserved. I think we hear what Winthrop said today and sometimes think: “Well, he was pretty full of himself, huh?” But, if you can get settled in with 17th century English and make yourself read through most of this (REALLY REALLY long) sermon, there’s some amazing stuff in there about how we ought to live as community, including some financial advice that would be pretty interesting to look at in light of the last few years. I’m waiting for someone to write a reflection on what poor old John Winthrop would have thought of today’s Black Friday!!!
The city on a hill imagery is all over the Bible. Winthrop is probably most directly quoting Jesus in Matthew 5:14
“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden”.
But he and his audience were avid Bible-readers, and they probably heard echoes of passages like Isaiah 2 and Psalm 122 as well.
I know that one of the huge problems with pointing to someone like Winthrop, and to the Puritans and Pilgrims as great arbiters of American Civil culture is division of church and state. And, yes, it is a valid issue to raise.
But, they are are surely part of our heritage as American Christians. Even when we don’t like them too much. And, besides, on Discombobluation Sunday, I suspect that many of us are struggling with that line a little. Are these holidays and our traditions around them sacred and churchy or secular and civic? What does separation of Church and State mean when the holiday we just celebrated, is a holiday for which the president of the United States releases a presidential proclamation that asks us to give thanks to God? Here’s the quote from President Obama’s 2010 Thanksgiving day proclamation:
As Americans gather for the time-honored Thanksgiving Day meal, let us rejoice in the abundance that graces our tables, in the simple gifts that mark our days, in the loved ones who enrich our lives, and in the gifts of a gracious God.
Part of it is that our country is not so much a Christian nation, but while we’re neutral on the matter of religion, we have roots in the Christian tradition.
But even more so: the great themes of our faith resonate with the deepest human longings. We long for a better world: a world without North Korea sniping at South Korea; a world without heart attacks; a world without divorce and estrangement; a world where 55 year old men don’t die of cancer; a world that is whole and complete and right. it’s what the Bible calls “Shalom”: peace, we sometimes say that Hebrew word means. but it really, fully means a word set complete and whole and right, as God intended it to be.
And who doesn’t want that?
There is part of me that wants to tell you all to try your best to avoid the craziness that “the world” has put onto the next few weeks. I think there is great wisdom in movements among Christians to reclaim the season:
avoid the overkill and overeating and over-consumption
stand against the consumerist take-over of the season
watch and wait and prepare our hearts, as much as our homes, during Advent
But I know, because I live in this world, too, how difficult it is to completely avoid the excitement. I will admit it: I was out ever so briefly on North Michigan Avenue on Black Friday for a little shopping…and it was beautiful to me, all these things: from glittery window displays to people enjoying the fun of hunting for a deal, the excitement of little kids, the street musicians. I even loved, in some odd way, sitting all cozied up with a bunch of strangers on the CTA bus. It was a beautiful thing: the city all scrubbed and cleaned up, all lit up for the occasion.
I like the season, too. So I’m not going to tell you the only way you can really get the whole Christian package of Christmas is by radically altering every last thing about how you interact with the season. Scaling back a little might help. Thinking a little less about the shopping is a wonderful goal. Carving out time to reflect and prepare is going to make the season more meaningful for your faith-life.
But here’s what I will ask: that you take note of what you hear in church this season, what you read in the Bible, what you hear in the songs, and what has sunk deeply into your soul from time in worship, among the saints, and with God.
And that you take the words that you hear and sing with you into the world, and you look around with a critical eye, and ask yourself questions.
For example, when you see a store window display that features words like “believe” and “joy” and “peace” you ask yourself:
What do they mean, “believe”? Belief in the coziness of that really nice sweater? What do they mean by “joy”? Joy from getting some object that you must have? What do they mean by “peace”?
Or, when you see an advertisement with happy people of many races, a small picture of the whole world, that you recognize the longing for a place where all people come together?
And when you watch TV and see happy families gathered, all comfy in their pajamas, you recognize it not just as how YOUR family ought to be (and, perhaps, frequently, is not…) but as a version of that deep longing for a place where everyone feels safe and whole and love?
It is a dark time of the year. And there are dark things happening in the world. We need the lights on our houses and our city streets, everything all lit up, to provide some hope.
But look again, with that critical eye, and ask yourself: hope for what?
Is it just presents and cookies and a perfect family Christmas portrait?
Or is there something more?
What Isaiah and the Psalmist present is the something more. A city that is truly lit up.
Not just any city on a hill.
But a city on mountain top, higher and truer and brighter than all the lights around it.
The place where there is true peace, and hope, and joy.
The place where everything is whole and right, because God is in its midst.
The place where we can place our belief with confidence in the goodness of a God who loved us so much as to send the greatest gift: Jesus Christ.
The longing is everywhere. Not just here in the church, but out in the world.
So look at the lights, and glitter, the decorations.
But recognize in it: the longing.
And every once in a while, when you see the longing behind the beauty of the season, think of the city that is truly all lit up with the presence of God.
And, maybe, under your breath, say or sing, with Christians of so many times and places:
Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel…
In seminary, I remember a guest speaker saying that every preacher had a certain aspect of the Gospel to which they were predisposed, and each preacher’s preaching will tend toward similar themes throughout their preaching career. This, he said, was perfectly fine: think of a sheet, he said. and it will stay up as long as everyone keep holding her corner.
I’m starting to wonder if different children have different theological predispositions. There are probably some questions about nature and nurture here. And about what spiritual developmental phase they are working on at the time.
I love reading friends’ facebook postings about their kids’ religious and theological observations, and it seems that each kid has a different part of theology toward which they lean. Some kids are all about grace and gifts. Some seem to be getting close to the heart of questions about who God is. Some are about human relationships. Some are focused on wonder.
Zora, I think, tends to work a lot with ideas about providence. We get frequent questions and observations around these lines:
“The sand on that beach is brown because God made it that way, right?”
“How come God made the snow for the cold?”
“That’s how it is because God wants it, right?”
Has anyone else noticed this in your kids or others, that there are themes that they as individuals turn to over and over again?
I think this is a fascinating post on kids and the whole TSA controversy (scanners, pat-downs, etc.):
http://www.deliciousbaby.com/journal/2010/nov/18/tsa-pat-downs-how-talk-your-kids/
I point out the post for two reasons:
1. If you have to prep a little kid for a pat down, this woman is right on the mark about how to do it. Pitch perfect.
2. The discussion in the comments section is REALLY interesting as well. At the time that I am writing about this, the guest blogger who wrote the post is the final commenter, and she is, again, right on target. Very young children are not necessarily at a stage in their moral development where they will fully comprehend civil rights issues. They are on the road, but not entirely there. And parents need to take this into account when they are prepping children for the possibility of this procedure.
I have to admit that I am personally relieved that I don’t have to fly for awhile, though. I don’t like this development at all. I understand that we need to be safe. And I understand that there will always be some work-around for people who want to do bad things. But it seems there might be some better solutions that what we have going on here.
I’m hoping that by the time I have to fly again, this will be sorted out a bit, but some of my current concerns:
Flying with small children, obviously. Everything from some of the unresolved medical issues to how exactly would a woman with an infant get the infant through a scanner and get the infant to HOLD STILL??? (For instance, it’s not out of character for Erik and I to travel on separate flights, me with kids, since he gets less vacation time. So do you hand a squirmy baby over to someone else in the line? My understanding is you have to be still for the scanner to work. Clearly, it was not designed to work for infants.
I’ve read a few things that suggest people who are high risks for skin cancer shouldn’t go through. (Hello: fair complexion, hair and moles!) And seriously, I’m not just being reactionary here: I never threw out all my nalgene bottles that might be poisoning me slowly with BPA because I figure something will kill me eventually.
The obvious inconsistency of TSA. And here, I’ll mention a POSITIVE TSA story to illustrate this: a few years ago, departing from a small airport, we actually had TSA agents find and then turn a blind eye to 3 juice boxes we’d forgotten to take out of Zora’s carry-on. As in, they found them, and they acknowledged they found them, and then they let us through (I think, officially, by citing the rules about infants and bottles…Zora was well beyond infant.) At any other airport, this could have turned into a major crisis: I say this having had my knitting needles confiscated by TSA at other airports (even well after the knitting needle ban was lifted).
How would one fly responsibly with a large church youth group? Similar to my feelings about small children, as a pastor, I have some mama-bear tendencies toward teenagers whose parents have placed them into me care. Groping does not fit with this. And the nearly-nude computer image doesn’t thrill me either. I also think, given that I might myself be tempted to opt out of the scan, that no one should be under pressure from the group to get the scan. So, if I have a kid who wants to opt out of a scanner, then I think the group would have to tolerant of the extra time it would take to have them “patted”. And, I’m sorry, but teenagers are not always people who are real comfortable with their bodies, let alone strangers touching them. So, would one then take the group to airport super-extra early? Wouldn’t trip planning suddenly have to include prepping everyone to be tolerant of each other’s choices, and prepping those who are going to opt out in how to be as “nice” to the TSA as possible in order not to hold up the group?
I’d be especially interested to read comments on traveling with kids (your own; youth groups) and groups here. Please know that if comments devolve into sniping about the policy, I’ll probably delete them.
For light reading at the beach last week, I bought a few holiday magazines. I fell in love with the Danish- inspired stuff one family did, especially these garlands of Advent bags they had for each kid: one bag numbered for each day with a little something inside.
Yes! I decided we were going to do that. I’ve got fabric for the bags a simple way to do it. But then I started thinking about the hassle of finding something for the bags each year and the precedent of 25 days of little gifts.
We bought Zora a really beautiful little handpainted wood fairy doll from etsy a few weeks ago, and of course I started thinking, huh, if I could paint, I could make that.
And then my mind started wandering to Jesse trees (either a Jesus family tree or a series of symbols that tell the redemption story, with one for each day in December).
What if I used the bags for the Jesse tree thing?
Truth be told, I had decided this was too complicated, but on impulse, with a free day today, ( and after finding the doll forms on sale at a hobby store) thought I might try it.
So we now have 25 dolls. I picked characters that appear in Zora’s children’s Bible, with a few others thrown in (just in case you want to critique my list, biblical scholars!). I tried to include some of the women. And I tried to come up with a symbol for most of them (stars on Abraham’s clothing, a lion at Daniels feet, a hammer for Nehemiah). I’m a little frustrated that many of the women got a babe in arms (or two in Rebecca’s case) as their symbol because they did do stuff other than have babies, but no one can be perfect.
I finished painting them and then worked with a drill and some dowels to make a bare tree. That turned out wonky, and then I couldn’t bear to glue or drill into the heads of my little people to turn them into ornaments.
And then my eye fell on the nice wood clementine box on my counter. Backdrop/theater? Sure! I painted the sky and the land and a stump with a shoot (you can’t see it too well but I also put the firmament on the inside top panel…never too early to get kids straight about Ancient Near East cosmology!)
And I think the whole deal is pretty darn cute. If I whip out the bags people, we’ll have some pretty good motivation for advent Bible stories around here.
The funniest thing about this whole experiment: I feel like I need to thank everyone from my middle school shop teacher to my seminary Old Testament professors! I kept thinking, “Wow, you are really using all the disciplines here. Nice work!”
This would be a great family project with slightly older kids who are into the crafty stage, too. I sort of regret that I couldn’t hold off for a few years until Zora could have done more of the painting. At least I paint like a child so it has that sort of vibe to it!
And now, I need to get Zora to give up the people, clean up, and get on with supper!
Yesterday afternoon I found out that one of my college professors died at age 55. It sent me for more of a tailspin than I would have anticipated.
I don’t know that I could point to one professor as “my favorite” or “my mentor.” I sometimes wonder if I’m an oddly prickly, independent person who doesn’t attract or retrain mentoring well. But that, I suppose, is another post.
But Rich was definitely in the handful of professors who were most influential to me, the people whose offices I might try to stop by if I’m ever on campus again. He taught English, and although I was an English major, for the life of me, I can’t remember if I had an actual English class with him. More significant than that, though: he was one of the three professors who formed the teaching team for the two year great books program I was part of, the Great Conversation. Those 60 students and 3 professors became my intellectual orbit as a college student. I miss them as a group today especially. I would like nothing more than to find a few and get together for coffee and a laugh and cry, but I can’t quite figure out how many of us are in Chicago (to be fair, one of them does live with me: Erik is also a Great Conner, which was really nice last night). Facebook has to do, and I’m glad for whatever camaraderie that’s provided.
Rich was a Miltonist with a strong background in classics as well (in other words, he was into a really dead poet and some dead languages). That could easily be a discipline where you would assume a level of academic elitism and remove from the real world. But he was a warm and real a person as you could imagine, fully grounded on earth, completely engaged with the people around him. He could take literature that can seem incredibly inaccessible and make it relate to being human. He could do it by being funny: hearing him read from Paradise Lost with a full-on Cajun accent (his own heritage mixed in with Milton!) was one of the funniest academic things I’ve ever heard. And he could do it by simply making things relevant: who knew that Lucretius could be so easy to understand and would become one of the college reads that I would retain best?
He was also real to his students partly because he couldn’t help but keep part of his family life away from us: his wife was another of our English professors (and, she too, would definitely be among my top few profs as well). They did not bother hiding the fact that they loved each other from their students. (Not that we caught them making out in hallways.) You just knew when they were together and when they talked about each other that this was a good marriage. While we were students, one of their children became mysteriously sick, and eventually died. It was awful. They kept appropriate boundaries, but we knew what was happening, too. I don’t know if they realize how much the functioning of their family taught their students about how to live life, as well as what they taught in the classroom.
I tried yesterday to remember specific things that I learned from Rich, and realized that most of the content has seeped out of my brain. At first, this really upset me. My college education down the drain, right?
But then I started to realize that it wasn’t content that was most important. As far as I can tell, Rich was one of the profs who taught me to see and seek theology and religious themes in literature. That is hugely important to what I do now. Not that I have a lot of time to read Milton, not that my Latin or Greek can get me through much of anything anymore. But even when, for example, I’m listening to a secular pop song, I know how to look, and how to dig. Even the way I read the Bible is probably impacted by this: it is, after all, a great work of literature. And, yes, I do still get to look at SOME heavier literature!
And then there’s just the living of life, with a good solid liberal arts background to back me up. By my senior year, our great books program was officially over, but Rich offered a version of the required senior ethics course for our class of Great Con. A bunch of us took it. Again, I don’t remember too many specifics. But I do remember that the basic theme of the class was looking at great literature and philosophy and theology and trying to piece together what it was to go out and live a good life. All these written works that were not just for some sort of self-indulgent, ivory tower intellectualism, but for real life. And you know, I don’t care that I can’t remember specifics anymore because I can still remember what that classroom smelled like and how the light fell through the basement windows of Old Main, and Rich smiling and coaxing us on in conversation. I know that it somehow sunk into who I am today.
That’s how it works, I think, with a good liberal arts education. Reading college friends’ posts about this yesterday, I was struck by what a good bunch of people they are. How thoughtful and smart and funny and prayer-filled. And, truth be told, it’s not so much some sort of college-specific pride, but gratefulness that we had good teachers that fills me.
You can live a life well, even if it is too short…
I just voted. What with a mid-November birthday, this was only my 14th year of being able to vote (I was too young by about a week in 1995!).
I don’t have a perfect record. But I’ve managed to vote in most of the general elections since 1996. I’ve been registered in 3 states (Minnesota, Michigan, and Illinois), and I’ve had the opportunity to vote in some interesting, if not hilarious elections.
I was thinking about the highlights while I drove from the polling place to work. The highlights thus far of my voting career:
I don’t mean this to be overly political or about endorsing parties or candidates, and yes, you can probably make some pretty good guesses about how I voted today.
It’s just to point out: there’s something interesting in almost every election. So get yourself on to the polls if you can still make it today. There’s a part of the story you’re supposed to participate in!
We are now on a 3-year roll of avoiding full-on trick or treating. It’s not that we are completely anti-sugar or at all anti-Halloween. (After all, I am the Mom who went a little nuts on the costume this year.)
It’s really just that we are slackers.
Two years ago, we managed to wiggle out of Halloween by taking Zora along for a November 1 wedding (Happy 2nd Anniversary, by the way, to Colin and Anne!). This, of course, meant an October 31 rehearsal and dinner, a dinner after which, having a had a bit too much wine, I became awfully confused about why the streets of Minneapolis were filled with people in odd costumes. What, I wondered, had the clubbing scene in the Twin Cities turned into?
Last year, after a few hours at a far-away church for a church meeting, I drove back home and realized that I was pooped, Zora didn’t really KNOW it was Halloween, and what I really wanted to do was hole up in the house with Erik and Zora. Erik felt the same way, and we just didn’t go.
She’s had costumes every year. At that wedding rehearsal, she was tooling around through the church in an elephant costume. Last year, she was a lion both for her preschool party and for a brilliant Halloween dinner at some church friends’ home.
This year, we figured the gig was up. She was going to insist on the trick or treating, right?
Well, here’s what happened: in the last few weeks, things fell together for significant portions of people from my family to gather at a cottage in the dunes on southern Lake Michigan. We didn’t think we could swing it with the church obligations on Saturday and Sunday. But then, we decided to go anyway, with me sort of “commuting” the three hours back for church stuff.
Zora did go trick or treating, but it was more of a one-stop-deal at my Aunt’s neighbor’s house on our way home Sunday night.
I’m guessing, though, that this is REALLY the end of the non-trick-or-treating years.
But, who knows what will come up in 2011?