What music I am listening to: Me First and the Gimme Gimmes: Are a Drag. Great CD- their cover of the song, "Rainbow Connection" is fucking awesome!
I have had a lot of beers this evening, so I apologize if this posting is somewhat incoherant.
Man, Halloween sucks when you are older! I remember the Halloweens of years past, when I would dress up in my costume and trick-or-treat with my father and brother. I was always a little scared of the dark, of being out on Halloween night, but the presence of my dad and his trusty flashlight would always assuage any of my fears.
My favorite Halloween candy? Fun-size Three Musketeer bars! Oh, the chocolate enveloping a soft cushion of nougat, whatever the hell nougat is! I used to steal Three Musketeer candy bars from my younger brother's Halloween candy stash.
My favorite Halloween costume? Hmmm... so many cool ones, it is hard to decide. My mother is an expert seamstress and we always had kick-ass costumes. One year I was Annie Oakley and my mother made me a great faux-leather fringed vest and matching skirt. (For those of you who don't know who Annie Oakley was, she was a famous Western sharp-shooter in the late 19th Century) When I was in first grade, I was the tooth fairy. My mother made a wonderful flowy skirt of purple netting. I wore it over a purple leotard. She also made me a wand with a tooth on the end of it.
I know that a lot of Christian conservatives are against the celebration of Halloween--they think it's "Satan's holiday." I know that in the Panhandle, many churches have "Fall Festivals" on Halloween night to discourage folks from trick-or-treating. But I say such festivals are silly. What's the harm in kids having fun? Dressing up as the tooth fairy was never a response to worship Satan but rather an excuse to pretend to be someone else and score some Three Musketeer bars. My problem with fundamentalism is that they (fundamentalists) can't stand it when people are having fun!
Monday, October 31, 2005
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Homeward Bound(less)
What music I am listening to: The Essential Simon & Garfunkel (yet again)
The refrain of one of my favorite S&G songs, Homeward Bound, goes like this:
"Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound:
Home, where my thoughts escapin'
Home, where my music's playin'
Home, where my Love lies waitin' silently for me."
I was, in fact, "Homeward Bound" this weekend-- my best friend was driving to Amarillo and I agreed to tag along so I could 1) assist with driving 2) see my family and friends. I have felt so terribly homesick for the past two months that I was ready to endure the 8 1/2 hour drive from Austin to Amarillo. We left late Thursday afternoon and arrived in Canyon, Texas (where I lived the past 5 years) around 2:30 A.M. Friday morning. We drove back today, Sunday. So, needless to say, this was a whirlwind of a weekend.
As we passed through the green sign proclaiming "Canyon City Limits," I could already tell that this weekend would be an exercise in surreality. The streets, houses, businesses of Canyon--all so familiar and yet so foreign. The city had not changed in two months. Even the house of my old roommate, where we stayed Thursday night, had not changed. I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Friday morning, I visited the coffee shop where I used to work. How surreal to be an actual customer instead of an employee!
Seeing my family was an absolute joy. Seeing my old friends--that was another matter. With my family, I easily slipped into my familiar role of oldest child and the "big sister." Within moments of my arrival, I was helping my mother hang laundry and load the dishwasher. It was obvious that the parable of the Prodigal Son (Daughter) has been lost on my family. Where was my fatted calf and robe? Where was my party? Alas! Poor Meredith!
Now on to the old friends...if seeing my family was the epitome of Joy, seeing my friends was the epitome of awkwardness, perhaps mixed with a little pain. Here's a typical conversation:
Friend: Hey you! [Hug]
Me: Hey you!
F: It's so great to see you! What are in town for?
Me: It's great to see you, too. I'm in town for the weekend?
F: How's Austin?
Me: Oh, pretty good. It's not the Panhandle, that's for sure [both chuckle]
F: And how's Seminary?
Me: Great! Gotta love reading Calvin and Barth [I chuckle]
F: [stares somewhat blankly] Sounds neat!
Me: Oh, it is. I really love it.
... And so on. The conversation continues in banality and awkwardness. None of my friends from home are into theology and most do not understand my call to Seminary. I think a few still believe that I am going to become a nun, even though I have done all I can to dispel all myths about theological education. But the overall impression I get is that "Meredith is going to school to be a preacher?!?! Where did that come from? Our Meredith? The one who drinks, swears, enjoys a good dirty joke, and can party with the best of them? Why the hell would anyone want to be a preacher? Of course, because I MYSELF DON'T UNDERSTAND MY CALL, I can't possibly explain it to anyone else.
But the biggest problem isn't that my friends do not understand my love for Jesus and the Church. The biggest problem is that my life is going in one direction, my friends life is moving in another, and I no longer know where I "fit in" with any of their lives. I went to a Halloween party Friday night, and I had a terrible time because although I knew most of the people there, I had nothing in common with them anymore. They know nothing of my daily triumphs and struggles and I know nothing of theirs.
I guess the point I am trying to make is, I finally realized that Austin is my home. My seminary classmates are my new friends and I missed my Austin friends desperately this weekend! Seminary is the first place that I feel like I can be myself. These people seem to love me for who I am and are infinitely patient and accepting of my many, many idiosynchrises (spelling?). I never used to feel like I could talk about my Faith with anyone and it is still something I have trouble expressing. But here, I can talk about Jesus, theology, my Faith, and I don't feel like schmaltzy Hallmark card or religious "poser."
My heart is heavy laden with the bittersweet truth that life goes on and friendships evolve. And as flowers grow, blossom, and eventually fade and wither, I believe relationships also follow this pattern. We are left with memories of growth and blossoming and I believe these memories to be a gift and blessing from God.
I will no longer be as homesick for the Panhandle. My life is here. My home is here. Thanks and Glory be to God!
The refrain of one of my favorite S&G songs, Homeward Bound, goes like this:
"Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound:
Home, where my thoughts escapin'
Home, where my music's playin'
Home, where my Love lies waitin' silently for me."
I was, in fact, "Homeward Bound" this weekend-- my best friend was driving to Amarillo and I agreed to tag along so I could 1) assist with driving 2) see my family and friends. I have felt so terribly homesick for the past two months that I was ready to endure the 8 1/2 hour drive from Austin to Amarillo. We left late Thursday afternoon and arrived in Canyon, Texas (where I lived the past 5 years) around 2:30 A.M. Friday morning. We drove back today, Sunday. So, needless to say, this was a whirlwind of a weekend.
As we passed through the green sign proclaiming "Canyon City Limits," I could already tell that this weekend would be an exercise in surreality. The streets, houses, businesses of Canyon--all so familiar and yet so foreign. The city had not changed in two months. Even the house of my old roommate, where we stayed Thursday night, had not changed. I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Friday morning, I visited the coffee shop where I used to work. How surreal to be an actual customer instead of an employee!
Seeing my family was an absolute joy. Seeing my old friends--that was another matter. With my family, I easily slipped into my familiar role of oldest child and the "big sister." Within moments of my arrival, I was helping my mother hang laundry and load the dishwasher. It was obvious that the parable of the Prodigal Son (Daughter) has been lost on my family. Where was my fatted calf and robe? Where was my party? Alas! Poor Meredith!
Now on to the old friends...if seeing my family was the epitome of Joy, seeing my friends was the epitome of awkwardness, perhaps mixed with a little pain. Here's a typical conversation:
Friend: Hey you! [Hug]
Me: Hey you!
F: It's so great to see you! What are in town for?
Me: It's great to see you, too. I'm in town for the weekend?
F: How's Austin?
Me: Oh, pretty good. It's not the Panhandle, that's for sure [both chuckle]
F: And how's Seminary?
Me: Great! Gotta love reading Calvin and Barth [I chuckle]
F: [stares somewhat blankly] Sounds neat!
Me: Oh, it is. I really love it.
... And so on. The conversation continues in banality and awkwardness. None of my friends from home are into theology and most do not understand my call to Seminary. I think a few still believe that I am going to become a nun, even though I have done all I can to dispel all myths about theological education. But the overall impression I get is that "Meredith is going to school to be a preacher?!?! Where did that come from? Our Meredith? The one who drinks, swears, enjoys a good dirty joke, and can party with the best of them? Why the hell would anyone want to be a preacher? Of course, because I MYSELF DON'T UNDERSTAND MY CALL, I can't possibly explain it to anyone else.
But the biggest problem isn't that my friends do not understand my love for Jesus and the Church. The biggest problem is that my life is going in one direction, my friends life is moving in another, and I no longer know where I "fit in" with any of their lives. I went to a Halloween party Friday night, and I had a terrible time because although I knew most of the people there, I had nothing in common with them anymore. They know nothing of my daily triumphs and struggles and I know nothing of theirs.
I guess the point I am trying to make is, I finally realized that Austin is my home. My seminary classmates are my new friends and I missed my Austin friends desperately this weekend! Seminary is the first place that I feel like I can be myself. These people seem to love me for who I am and are infinitely patient and accepting of my many, many idiosynchrises (spelling?). I never used to feel like I could talk about my Faith with anyone and it is still something I have trouble expressing. But here, I can talk about Jesus, theology, my Faith, and I don't feel like schmaltzy Hallmark card or religious "poser."
My heart is heavy laden with the bittersweet truth that life goes on and friendships evolve. And as flowers grow, blossom, and eventually fade and wither, I believe relationships also follow this pattern. We are left with memories of growth and blossoming and I believe these memories to be a gift and blessing from God.
I will no longer be as homesick for the Panhandle. My life is here. My home is here. Thanks and Glory be to God!
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Let's talk about Sin!
What Music I am listening to : The Essential Simon & Garfunkel; I started listening to S&G during my formative High School years. Whenever I feel broody and introspective, S&G become the soundtrack for my life.
This morning, I am doing something I haven't done since I moved to Austin-- I am skipping my Old Testament Class. Some would say that my absence from class this morning was due to my drinking too much homemade wine last night, but I woke up at my usual time and my hangover is (mostly) non-existent. I needed to read fifty pages of John Calvin this morning in order to prepare for my Theology class this afternoon. Theology is the class where, short of the Eschaton, I will never skip.
Our "unit" this week in Theology has been "Finitude, Sin, and Evil." ( I know what you are thinking: "Wow, that sounds like a laugh riot...") Presbyterians do not like to discuss evil- it makes us uncomfortable. (Come to think of it, just about everything tends to make Presbyterians uncomfortable. Generally speaking, we spend most of our waking hours trying to avoid doing or saying anything that will step on anyone's toes. Well, this seminarian says that maybe we should quit being so damn polite and step on a few toes! If everyone wears steel-toed boots, it won't hurt so much! Do you think Jesus worried about offending anybody? Absolutely not! But I digress...)
Why does sin make us so uncomfortable? Why do we want to avoid talking about evil? And what is sin/evil, anyway? One of my theories is that we, as Christians, do not truly believe that we are sinners. Oh, we know that we "fuck up" now and then, but, at the end of the day, we tend to be self-satisfied. Real sin and evil is reserved for socio-paths, child-molesters, terrorists, etc. A fellow seminarian was asked to define evil and he semi-jokingly replied, "Saddam Hussein." But while I do not agree that Saddam Hussein is the apex of the manifestation of evil, his response is representative of a majority of Christians. Of course we will not think we are sinful and capable of evil if we compare our shortcomings with those of a merciless dictator.
Augustine defines evil as "the absence of good." Since God created everything "good" and "very good" (see Genesis), that which is not good is not part of God's plan for creation and therefore is sin. Thus, it can be argued that evil exists where good does not. Hmmm... a good, point, but raises even more questions. I am finished for now, but this discussion shall continue at a later date.
This morning, I am doing something I haven't done since I moved to Austin-- I am skipping my Old Testament Class. Some would say that my absence from class this morning was due to my drinking too much homemade wine last night, but I woke up at my usual time and my hangover is (mostly) non-existent. I needed to read fifty pages of John Calvin this morning in order to prepare for my Theology class this afternoon. Theology is the class where, short of the Eschaton, I will never skip.
Our "unit" this week in Theology has been "Finitude, Sin, and Evil." ( I know what you are thinking: "Wow, that sounds like a laugh riot...") Presbyterians do not like to discuss evil- it makes us uncomfortable. (Come to think of it, just about everything tends to make Presbyterians uncomfortable. Generally speaking, we spend most of our waking hours trying to avoid doing or saying anything that will step on anyone's toes. Well, this seminarian says that maybe we should quit being so damn polite and step on a few toes! If everyone wears steel-toed boots, it won't hurt so much! Do you think Jesus worried about offending anybody? Absolutely not! But I digress...)
Why does sin make us so uncomfortable? Why do we want to avoid talking about evil? And what is sin/evil, anyway? One of my theories is that we, as Christians, do not truly believe that we are sinners. Oh, we know that we "fuck up" now and then, but, at the end of the day, we tend to be self-satisfied. Real sin and evil is reserved for socio-paths, child-molesters, terrorists, etc. A fellow seminarian was asked to define evil and he semi-jokingly replied, "Saddam Hussein." But while I do not agree that Saddam Hussein is the apex of the manifestation of evil, his response is representative of a majority of Christians. Of course we will not think we are sinful and capable of evil if we compare our shortcomings with those of a merciless dictator.
Augustine defines evil as "the absence of good." Since God created everything "good" and "very good" (see Genesis), that which is not good is not part of God's plan for creation and therefore is sin. Thus, it can be argued that evil exists where good does not. Hmmm... a good, point, but raises even more questions. I am finished for now, but this discussion shall continue at a later date.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
In the beginning...there was Meredith
Wow- my very own blog! Finally, I own a small fragment of the ever-expanding universe that is cyber space. Thanks to my good friend, Ryan Pappan, for all of his help (go to his website if you get a chance- it kicks ass!)
I am a first-year student at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, which I will admit is a long and pretentious name for a "preacher training school." Part of the function of this blog will be to explore what it is like to reconcile humanity with divinity, so I will not wax too poetically about school right now. Seminary is simultaneously fascinating and overwhelming. I tend to wonder if all of us (us=students) are somewhat bipolar as a result; it seems that everyone is either really "up" or really "down" about life and school. We just finished a week-long Fall Break and everyone is still in the process of shaking off the pleasant dream that was a week without classes.
I am glad that classes are back in session. I find that without structure and a daily schedule, I tend to accomplish nothing! Well, I accomplish drinking a lot of beer and fraternizing with my friends, but as for diligently studying- not so much.
I have lived in Austin for exactly 2 months and 2 days and, Oh!, what a tumultuous 2 months it has been! Not only did I have to leave behind family, dear friends, my job (which sucked- leaving that was not bad) and my church, but I also had to forge a new life in Austin while adjusting to the rigorous demands of a seminary education. No wonder I have become somewhat of a heavy drinker! Yet slowly, by the grace of God and the love and support of my new friends, I finally feel settled. But no matter how exciting the culture is here, how lush and vibrant the foliage or temperate the climate, the Panhandle will always be my home. How I long for expansive sky and the majesty of a Panhandle sunset! How my soul yearns for the cold, crisp mornings of Autumn in the Panhandle! Forgive me, for I know that I am romanticizing my homeland. But as all displaced people must do, I yearn for my family and for that which is familiar.
I am a first-year student at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, which I will admit is a long and pretentious name for a "preacher training school." Part of the function of this blog will be to explore what it is like to reconcile humanity with divinity, so I will not wax too poetically about school right now. Seminary is simultaneously fascinating and overwhelming. I tend to wonder if all of us (us=students) are somewhat bipolar as a result; it seems that everyone is either really "up" or really "down" about life and school. We just finished a week-long Fall Break and everyone is still in the process of shaking off the pleasant dream that was a week without classes.
I am glad that classes are back in session. I find that without structure and a daily schedule, I tend to accomplish nothing! Well, I accomplish drinking a lot of beer and fraternizing with my friends, but as for diligently studying- not so much.
I have lived in Austin for exactly 2 months and 2 days and, Oh!, what a tumultuous 2 months it has been! Not only did I have to leave behind family, dear friends, my job (which sucked- leaving that was not bad) and my church, but I also had to forge a new life in Austin while adjusting to the rigorous demands of a seminary education. No wonder I have become somewhat of a heavy drinker! Yet slowly, by the grace of God and the love and support of my new friends, I finally feel settled. But no matter how exciting the culture is here, how lush and vibrant the foliage or temperate the climate, the Panhandle will always be my home. How I long for expansive sky and the majesty of a Panhandle sunset! How my soul yearns for the cold, crisp mornings of Autumn in the Panhandle! Forgive me, for I know that I am romanticizing my homeland. But as all displaced people must do, I yearn for my family and for that which is familiar.
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