HOMEpdx: Church for those on the Outside

Ken Loyd of HOMEpdx really sent out a rare appeal for contributions.  A church for those who live outside in Portland, Oregon, Ken and his fine team of street angels give away food, socks, and lots of conversation every week to the most invisible citizens of our city. If you haven't heard of this guerilla form of nonverbal evangelism, get your ear to the ground and have a listen. HOMEpdx is an indigenous expression of a church for those who live in the land in an urban setting. Wanna learn the art and soul of missional life? Hang out with HOMEpdx for a bit, either here in the city or online through the magic of blog stories and websites.

And if you can, share some of your power ($$) with them, for when you are a church filled with homeless outcasts, the budget is painfully thin.

***reposted below is a blog post from last year, the last time I had volunteered for HOMEpdx until just this past week. I'm up to my eyeballs in end-of-term homework but as soon as I can I want to blog about what it was like for me to rejoin HOMEpdx after more than a year***

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There is no us and them, only Us.

"I'd play better if I was sober," said the Native American man sitting on the floor. He was listening to another man play guitar and sing some blues riffs. They played against a backdrop of a room full of bingo players who were relaxing after a Sunday meal of rice, gumbo, salad and peach crisp with ice cream for dessert.

"I've been clean for twenty days from heroin," said a much-too-skinny blonde guy who couldn't have been more than 18 years old. "Way to go!" somebody responded as they butted knuckles with him.

Welcome to another day in the life of a faith community in Portland, Oregon known as HOMEpdx, a church for people who live outside.

Complementarianism : Disagreeing with God they say...

Discovered this image at Critical Discipleship who blogged a great post about complementarianism.

 I wrote a post a long while back titled Complementarianism Sucks: Telling Women to be Quiet in the Name of Jesus. 

It's a collection of excerpts from other bloggers about the subjugation of women in the modern Christian church as I was participating in a synchroblog, which is when a bunch of bloggers all blog on the same topic.

Every now and then a reader will stumble through my blog and leave a comment on this post, reminding me that the issue of women and men and equality is alive and well lest I forget. Here's what the reader said, and note, they remained anonymous so I do not know if they are male or female: 

You can't POSSIBLY argue against a Biblically supported philosophy without using the Bible in any way, provided that you believe the Bible is true.

Look at your post, Pam. Everything you say is like "I like", "I heard", "I saw", "I listened", "I know", etc.!

You need to be reminded that this world isn't about you and what goes on in your mind. This about God and what he wants, and if he were to demand that there be a separate, lower section of seats in the church for women to sit in, then as a believer in God you better sit there! Now obviously I'm using a more extreme case of "sexism" or whatever you would call it to illustrate my point, but at least you understand it.

If you disagree with that argument then you are disagreeing with God, because whatever God asks of you, you need to do.

It's a simple fact that Eve took the fruit and ate it before giving it to Adam and convincing him to eat it as well. So you tell me, why do you think God doesn't want women to lead the church?   (bold my emphasis)

This, my blog readership friends, is why I'm writing a book that confronts gender inequity in the modern world of Church.

So thank you Anonymous for stoking my writing fires to light up the pages with prophetic heralding announcing that complementarianism does indeed suck and that Christ came to liberate all....need a bible verse for that? How about Gal 3:28

There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Doubt: The Dangerous Power of Asking Questions

I believe that doubt is the one thing that hastens social and spiritual and personal change.

 - Elissa Elliot

I read this morning a post by an author who raises the question of the transformative power of questioning and doubting. She surmises that societal change originates with somebody somewhere asking a question.  She writes:

Now imagine: if you actually discussed your beliefs with someone else, you begin to see, very rapidly, that he doesn’t believe the same things as you, at least not in the same way as you.  You have a decision to make.  You either burrow into your hole and insist on your rightness, or you listen and wonder, “I wonder why he thinks that?” and “What can I learn from him?”

Doubt promotes dialogue...

Many years ago I expressed doubt about the justice of hell. The room full of Christians who I trusted to hear me out instead began to scripturize me to keep me on the straight and narrow path...narrow being the key word here. But questions are the fertile ground where our imagination discovers new trails of thought and possibility. Questioning and doubting open up vistas of our thinking to consider faith, life, and relationships another way.

I once  heard Brian McLaren say that he sees this generation discovering faith by questioning. I love that, for I am the queen of questions and it is true : I have learned and relearned and unlearned what makes the sum of my life by the simplicity of asking a question.  In the creed that I follow, which is to live my life as best I can according to the teachings of Jesus, he advised his followers, You have not for you ask not. Asking is a gateway. But asking doesn't come without it's risks.

Questions have long been troublemakers for those who ask them, and especially for those who attempt to answer them. Questions can lead us to bigger open meadows of liberty or push us to the edge of the cliff with a mob ready to throw us off. Questions can be subversive. Who do you say I am? asked Jesus of his followers. Definitely a dangerous question in the context of the times.

What questions are you asking lately? 

Dream Mysteries

Last night I had a dream that I was driving on a dark winding road. Suddenly I went blind. Totally blind and yet I kept driving while hysteria whirled around spinning me into confusion. Like most dreams, my actions did not make sense, as I kept driving the car on the dark, winding road completely blind and yet did not crash.

In the next scene of the dream I have arrived to a river ferry. Good people help me from my car and lead me by the arm on board the ferry where they kindly bring me to a warm bed in a quiet room. I rested deeply and when I woke up, my sight had returned.

When I left my room to find my good Samaritans, I was surprised to discover that every single person on the ferry was disabled. Some used crutches; others were supported by walkers or in wheelchairs, or walked with a deep limp. Everyone was disabled except me.

I have had this dream before, though different variations. Driving and then sudden blindness is the common storyline, but with different settings.

I am a dream kind of girl, meaning that I pay attention to the stories that come to me by night. Mystical or psychological, they fascinate me and have often provided some kind of insight or guidance for my life. Not major like moving to a new state or anything drastic, but definately helpful in everyday life.

I'm still reflecting on this dream. I suppose I will until it's meaning becomes unlocked for me.

How about you. Do you have any recurring dreams? Have you ever experienced a divine dream, or God dream as we call them at my house, that provided you with some kind of spiritual guidance or wisdom?  Do share with the group!

The Last Testament of Maddie Rae Johnson {an introduction}

 **I have thought many times about blogging a serial story focused from the point of view of one character who finds herself at the edge of the apocalypse. The  recent media frenzy with the myth of the rapture predictions of an old man, a little story featuring a very special woman has found it's spark to come out of hiding. Meet Maddie. A character born during a freewrite exercise during my heyday with the Bridge Writers Group here in Portland. Maddie has been a part of my imagination for about three years. I've kept her locked up long enough. It's time to uncage her and let her breathe the free air of the open page and be met by others. This is the beginning of what will be a new kind of blogging for me: the writing of story in serial form. 

I hope you like her. 

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At the back of the bus on a long, dusty Memphis highway I was born. I grew up hearing my mama tell that story, drunk or sober, to anybody who asked about me. And plenty of people did ask about me, like teachers and preachers and social workers of all persuasions from the magnolia drenched state of Louisiana.

My name is Maddy. I am 42-years old and this is my life story, a last testament before the end of it all roars down my quiet little street and takes me home to the world I was meant for.

I don't suppose that anyone shall ever read any of this, for there are rumors that all life will suffocate come the next solar storm, which should be, say forecasters, within the next six weeks. So I do not write this as a memoir to interpret my life as a tapestry from the underside. I write this to help tick away the remaining days in order to comfort myself  as well as decode meaning from that which  appears to be utterly meaningless.

If we are to become extinct then may I vanish with a soul content with the station I found myself within this life. This then is my last testament.

 If you haven't heard there is a Christian leader who has an impressive degree of influence and money who is spreading the word that tomorrow, May 21, is the day of the Rapture. This is a belief in some Christian circles that the faithful will vanish in the blink of an eye as God rescues them from the planet right before he unhurls horrific judgment against everyone else. (For the record, me and most of the folks I know reject this belief)

This leader, Harold Camping, has a wallop of media power and has used the radio stations he owns as well as purchasing billboard ad space around the country to warn all that the Big Day is coming. The unfortunate thing is that he has convinced untold thousands that this is true. As a result, there are people who have quit jobs and disrupted their lives in order to prepare for The End.

Many people are just making fun of it, including myself. I posted on Facebook the quandary of what to wear when it's your last day on earth?  A pastor I know back east is hosting a Left Behind party Saturday night.  and on Facebook right now is a group calling itself Post Rapture Looting that has accumulated nearly a half million members. A lot of the comments are hilarious. Here's a few:

"Thank you for calling God. Your call is very important to us. Due to the high volume of prayers, the wait time is longer than usual. Please hold and your prayer will be answered in the order in which they are received. Thank you for calling God..."

When everyone is gone and god's not looking, we need to pick up some sweet stereo equipment and maybe some new furniture for the mansion we're going to squat in.

I'm hoping the neighbors dogs will be evaporated.

Running a video test for the bal drop if you care to watch and chat: justin.tv/gasparem Remember - RaptureBall.com Spread the word!http://justin.tv/gasparem

We can expect the humor to heat up tonight and tomorrow as the Big Day comes and then goes. I was joking with my coworkers last night when one of them brought it up during our break. We swapped jokes as we baffled not only at how anyone thinks he has this kind of knowledge but also at how others are willing to believe it.

There is also another angle to this rapture bullshit. People are bringing out their mockery of anything to do with Christ or Christ followers. This makes me feel conflicted. I want to mock these ignorant fools, too, yet I am able to separate the foolish from the saints, people who are following Jesus and loving their neighbor through acts of service rather than spiritual terrorist tactics.

Some folks on the Post Rapture Looting page just can't hold back their snark towards Christians:

My heaven = a world without a$$holes around to tell me I can't get into theirs

In all fairness. there'll be more people left than they'd take. life will go on minus the annoying overly religious fools!

Great idea for Saturday! While these people are praying and waiting for the rapture we can spread sets of clothes all around the outside of the church so that when they leave wondering why the rapture didn't come they'll stumble upon the revelation that there was a rapture; it is just that they were all left behind. Then we videotape the hysteria and post it on youtube.

 So, what's a girl to do? I cant' fault people for jumping on the Make-fun-of-Christians party boat since this is such a juicy vein for comedy. Come to think of it, I wonder if any of the Late Night shows will tackle this tonight?


I gotta go. I have work today....but secretly I'm gonna stop by Costco and stock up on canned goods and batteries. 'Cause if this crazy dude is right I'm fairly certain the God he believes in is different than the One I follow and I'll be Left Behind in the mess. Should make for some great blogging though!

The Quiet Sainthood of Denie Tackett

I saw on the news that evening a tribute to one of the valley's largest churches. They feed on average the report said 200 or so people every Sunday. They have 150 volunteers to support the feed the homeless program. Mosaic ministries does 100-200 with 4 people that prepare the food and serve while they minister with a personal touch to many of them that go through the line. Their resources come from outside donation and personal sacrifice. Little is made much when God's hand is in it and he has such willing hearts to work with.  Mosaic Street

This snippet from a blog of my friend Denie Tackett in Boise, Idaho was written by a couple who had just visited her park outreach and saw upclose the quiet service of this woman I've known since before I was old enough to vote. Denie casually began walking through a city park near the college in Boise to purposefully intersect with the homeless, or "friends who live outside," as she and Ken Loyd prefer calling our homeless brothers and sisters.  She felt a call from the Holy Spirit to serve the city's poor, but after a disillusioned stint of service at a shelter (it's so institutional and cold, she said) Denie decided to just take to the streets herself. A rugged, independent woman who carries scars from her rough background, Denie is a fierce mamabear kind of woman who doesn't flinch in dark places. She looks for the lost ones there.

Me and Denie. I first met her when we were teenagers and living in Vegas.

The thing about Denie and others like her that I know such as Ken and also Dustin Cross of Seattle, WA, they each are just Being God's Presence to the most invisible citizens of their cities. The church cited above uses ten times the resources - both people and money - in attempts to accomplish what these three threadbare ministries do in a given week. It's like the difference between a giant concert hall or a small venue. Music is heard at both, but there is an intimacy in the smaller places that cannot be duplicated in a roaring arena of thousands. Denie is a small corner tavern where the best bluesmen come to play for love and nothing else and where everybody knows your name.  And indeed she does. I've spent an afternoon in the park with her, I've driven around with her in her truck looking for her friends who hang out under flyovers and in places like Beercan Alley. She is a shepherdess for the stray souls of Boise, but she refuses to a fault to pitch religion to them. The Gospel, she tells me, is best heard when I listen to them rather than them to me. She is the one hearing the Good News of God's love when she discovers another forgotten kind soul wayward in life but not in heart. "These people are some of the kindest people you'll ever meet," she says. But Denie's not naive or blind. She has stories of those who have lied to her, attempted to steal from her or have been sexually aggressive towards her. But she doesn't shy away from the mission she has embarked on. She cries, she prays, she rants, she gets going out the door again - after working five shifts a week in the stressful environment of a Boise hospital - and gives her life away to some of the most destitute in Idaho.

It's not glamorous. There will be no movie of the week made about Denie or the guys in the park as she affectionately refers to them. She has made herself one of the invisible but then she does what Ken Loyd refers to as magic tricks : she, like Ken, helps the invisible become visible to themselves just by paying attention. That is the good news of Jesus' love from my perspective. That is the miracle of human compassion transcending human frailty.

It's Not Just a Sofa...

It was only a decade or so ago that my husband announced that our finances were in a place that at long last we could afford brand-new furniture. This was significant for me, a kind of milestone in our marriage and family. Up until that point we had only owned beat-up sofas that others discarded, freebies found on Craigs List or bought dirt cheap from a yard sale down the way. But there we were, getting our shoes on and heading to the furniture store - not consigned furniture - but brand new, overpriced sassy and comfy sofas and loveseats. The kind you defer payment for until next year.  By afternoon's end, my husband and I had agreed on a set. Unlike some couples who have different style preferences, Jerry and I are on the same page and so we made the salesman quite happy when we found something we both liked within a short amount of time. By the next day, I had a living room full of the loveliest, cushiest sofa and loveseat I could ever have imagined owning.  The elation of buying new furniture reminded me that yes, I'm a grown-up now. Grown-ups in my mind buy grown-up'ish things like appliances and window shades and yes, brand new furniture.

(Synchroblog) Letting Go of a Church-centered Me

A profound spiritual encounter with God at the tender age of 18 derailed the train of self-destruction I was on. Jesus helped me disembark and with the wisdom and power of the Holy Ghost I have managed to stay out of that train yard for good.

Instead, I hung out in churchyards. From the get-go, I loved this thing called church. Each Sunday was like a party. People from all walks of life gathering together to sing songs, hear a sermon, pray and cry and laugh together. Sometimes there were potlucks. Along the way, though, somewhere in adulthood when I realized church is not a party but is  an expression of a higher kingdom, a different way of doing life together, and thus, people are needed to serve and use their gifts to keep the kingdom of church going, this is when I shifted into living a church-centered life.

I evolved into a super-volunteer. I was at everything. At one time I was teaching Sunday school, leading a missions program for kids, on the prayer team and I attended a Bible class on Sunday mornings as well as typically attended three services a week. I kept this kind of pace up for years, thinking it was how it's supposed to be. I felt pangs of tension along the way, though. When I slowed down long enough for the dust of my chaotic church schedule to settle I'd hear the faint voice of my real self buried under the rubble of over-extending-myself saying, "This ain't right. You've created an insulated church life for yourself. Break out."   But the voice was so little that it was unable to get my attention.

The Wild Roots of Mothers Day

Julia Ward Howe (May 27, 1819 – October 17, 1910) was a prominent American abolitionist, social activist, and poet, most famous as the author of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic".

I was curious about the origins of Mother's Day, which is being celebrated today in the United States. I was intrigued to discover that it has a rather rogue beginning from a spitfire of a woman named Julia Ward Howe - which coincidentally, my own mother's name is Julia.  This woman, an American during the era of the Civil War under President Abraham Lincoln, determined to call for a day that called for an end to America's war and involvement in other conflicts. She was a stout feminist who believed that women must take responsibility for shaping society and culture.

An activist, abolitionist, poet and writer, Julia issued a Mother's Day Proclamation calling for America's women to rally together. As I read it for the first time today,  I could hear her anguish across the years for women to unleash their influence to disarm their warring men. 

The flowers we send our mothers today have their wild roots in the voice and life of Julia Ward Howe.


Mother's Day Proclamation

Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts,
Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.
It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.

As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,

The great and general interests of peace.

Twitterfied!

Do you tweet? Are you hanging with your tweeps during the day keeping up on what's happening in their Twitterverse?  Are you following any hashtags like #restoreunity or #mymomisnuts?

I have had an on-again/off-again relationship with all-things-Twitter. But recently I jumped back into the party and began tweeting about life again. I got the app on my Blackberry which means I can tweet instantly from wherever I have a cell signal. I have a couple hundred followers (modest in the world of Twitter) and I myself am following many dozens, including @jimmyfallon and @barakobama.  Yes. You can follow the tweets of the President of the United States of America as well as your favorite late night talk show host!

So do you tweet? Come follow me on Twitter. And I'll follow you back!

I'm Pregnant

I'm pregnant, but not in the way you might think.

Authors often refer to their books as babies, of the labor and love involved in producing the final book. In that regard, yes, I am pregnant and the baby, or the book, is due later this year!!

I am pleased to announce to my blog readership that I have entered a partnership with Civitas Press to publish a book tentatively titled, Unladylike.

This book has been a long, slow burn in my bones about the inequity of women in the institution known as church. There are many fine books about this topic already on th market, but most of them focus on the controversy of women in leadership. I am coming from a different angle. I haven't personally hit the so-called stained-glass ceiling since I have no calling to be a pastor or a church leader. I have many friends who have and who tell heart-wrenching stories of sexism and inequality. I do not have that story. But what I do have, and waht I think is underreported, is the quieter form of sexism that affects most women of  faith in one form or another, including myself.

For more details about the book click HERE Some of my friends in an effort to support me have already ordered copies. Crazy!  I can't believe I just wrote that...already ordered copies!

And, to top it off, the set publication date (aka due date!) for this first book is November 11, 2011.

I will blog next time about why the number 11 is so significant to me.

Until then, thank you for being a reader of this blog and for helping me to develop my writing voice! This has been the best writing course in the world for me!!!!