On Anniversaries: Getting to the Fine Day of Walter McDonald's Poem

My recent writing about "swooning" ("Weak-in-the-Knees-at-Walgreens") triggered a whole series of responses from you. Included in these, were my own family's musings about the way many members made their way toward marriage. Our Borgmann-Family Blog was lit up with tales loosely given the title, "Melissa's Knees: Our Love Stories" by my Aunt Marian. It was great fun to read these narratives, and to glean other such moments of "swooning" and first encounters. It took me personally into the larger space of our individual and collective journeys toward commitment, and how messy and fun and hard and exciting that all is. Today's Writer's Almanac poem speaks to these journeys, from one poet's sweet, love-heartache-reflection perspective.

Enjoy!

Anniversary: One Fine Day
by Walter McDonald

Who would sit through a plot as preposterous as ours,
married after years apart? Chance meetings may work
early in stories, but at operas, darling, in Texas?
A bachelor pilot, I fled Laredo for the weekend,
stopping at the opera from boredom, music I least expected.
Of all the zoos and honky-tonks south of Dallas,
who would believe I would find you there on the stairs,

Madame Butterfly about to start? When you moved
four years before, I lost all hope of dying happy,
dogfighting my way through pilot training, reckless,
in terror only when I saw the man beside you.
I had pictured him rich and splendid in my mind
a thousand times, thinking you married with babies
somewhere in Tahiti, Spain, the south of France.

When I saw the lucky devil I hated—only your date,
but I didn't know—he stopped gloating, watching you wave,
turned old and bitter like the crone in Shangri La.
Destiny happens only in plays and cheap movies—
but here, here on my desk is your photo, decades later,
and I hear sounds from another room of our house,
and when I rise amazed and follow, you are there.

"Anniversary: One Fine Day" by Walt McDonald, from Blessings the Body Gave. © Ohio State University Press, 1998. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)

On Race and White Privilege: Julie Landsman at the Church of St. Philips

How do we make visible the invisible?
What role does race, racism, and white privilege play in our public discourse? How about our everyday communication?
(What is white privilege? How do we define this concept?)
How does anyone get conscious of that which lies below the surface, or goes unacknowledged, but permeates everything?
How do we celebrate our diversity, and move toward a unified humanity?
What precedes such development?
How do relationships transform our learning at the intellectual, spiritual, emotional levels?
How messy and exciting - at the same time- is this work?!

Hmmm....These are some of the questions I hold going into this weekend's event featuring teacher and author Julie Landsman at the Church of St. Philip's. For those who don't know, Ms. Landsman is one who exemplifies a critical consciousness and learning around some of the toughest issues of our time: racism and white privilege.

As a parishioner at the Church of St. Philip's, I'm excited about how having Julie in our midst may help to surface some of the gifts and challenges present in our North Side faith community. With St. Philip's rich legacy as a Polish Catholic parish, and its evolving spirit in a predominantly African American community, coupled with the recent influx of many East African members and our Congolese Catholic priest, we are poised for a rich and powerful discussion inspired by Ms. Landsman's own witness to her pink-skinned heritage and cultural experiences. Julie's writing is rooted in social justice consciousness, and flows from civil rights activism --which seeks to unite all of us across race, class, gender, language, faith lines.

If you are in the area, please feel free to join our post-mass reading and facilitated discussion. Julie will read from her latest book, "Growing Up White: A Veteran Teacher Reflects on Racism."

WHEN: Sunday, March 22, 2009
TIME: 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. (following 10:15am mass)
WHERE: Church of St. Philip 2507 Bryant Avenue North Minneapolis, MN 55411
(at the corner of 26th Avenue and Bryant Avenue North)

This is a free event and all are encouraged to attend.

Again: All are welcome!

Peace,
Melissa

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

It's the Feast of St. Patrick today -- a holiday celebrating this former Brittish (or was it Scottish?) man who was enslaved in Northern Ireland, and went onto to become a priest and bishop in Ireland. Patrick preached love and forgiveness in this country where he was imprisoned. As a contemplative, Catholic and resident in St. Paul, Minnesota - where many green beer drinking festivities take place today - I'm writing to simply pay tribute to this figure of love.

I share a prayer that exemplifies St. Patrick's spirit, called, "Patrick's Breastplate:"

"Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ at my right, Christ at my left, Christ in my lying down, Christ in my sitting, Christ in my arising. Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me. Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks to me. Christ in every eye that sees me. Christ in every ear that hears me."

Amen.

As a writer sensative to all faiths and beliefs, I extend the spirit of Patrick to all, and invite this prayer to be understood as one of Love encompassing all aspects of vision, identity, experience, encounter, journey. Yes!

Blessings to all this day!

Love,

Melissa

Weak-in-the-Knees at Walgreens

I can't remember the last time I thought I might swoon.

First off, who "swoons" anymore? Isn't this some archaic term once used to describe a Vivian Lee type meeting up with a Clark Gable? (Read: any female circa 1930-1950 encountering a hollywood star, or their returning war-hero husband.) What does it mean to "swoon"? "To sway, to buckle, to bend, to be overcome with emotion, desire, intrigue, and tip sideways?" I think, "Yes, Precisely!" As this is exactly what happened to me in Walgreens on Lake Street last Sunday.

I'm going about my business. It's after Mass and a social call, and I've got a "To Do" list that includes filling up the car with gas and replenishing some necessary toiletries and cleaning items for my 2338 Marshall Ave apartment. I leave my brunch counter at Longfellow Grille, and head, for the first time since my move to this neighborhood, to the Walgreens on Lake Street with my list in hand.

"Deodorant. Toilet Bowl Cleaner. Toilet Paper. Dry Cleaning Bags."

No sooner than I enter, do I notice the attractive person who inspires my swoon. (Melissa weak in the knees at Walgreens.)

Tall. Six foot three or four. Brown. African Brown. Sports jacket over collared shirt, pressed jeans, shiny black Italian leather shoes. Rimless glasses. Pretty.

But I am buying toilet bowl cleaner. So I work to orient myself with the aisles and take a step forward.

First Aisle: Deodorant. As I walk toward this section of the store, I realize the handsome man is coming my way. I pause, smile, he smiles back, and I make a gesture to let him pass in front of me. The next thing I know: we are standing side by side looking at anti-perspirants. I am aware of his height. Of his hands. Of his clean smell. And I think my knees may really give out. "What am I doing? Why am I here? What am I buying?" I am trying to focus. I read my list. Look at the items on the shelf. But all I can think of is how striking this man is next to me.

I wonder if he's single? Where is he from? What does he do? I wonder if he likes curry or Thai food? I examine brands of deodorant.

Shower Clean. Pure Rain. Powder Fresh. I wonder what he buys? I wonder if he is at all aware of me? I wonder what makes him sweat? I select the Powder Fresh and try to go about my business.

Next Item: Toilet Bowl Cleaner. I find this pretty easily, and in the space away from the attractive man, I realize I am breathing normally again. I realize I might be crazy. I am in a freaking Walgreens on Lake Street! I laugh quietly at myself and realize how fun it is to find someone handsome. I realize how long it's been, and

I say, "Thank you" to God for this moment and this feeling, and this pretty man, and I pick out a blue toilet bowl cleaner on sale.

I continue on.

Next item: Toilet Paper. I see a whole case on sale in the farthest aisle, but as I approach, I spot hot guy again. And I quake. I turn. I cannot purchase this paper. "Why can't this guy see me buying Toilet Tissue?" I don't know, perhaps I'm afraid of how real that all is. (That I use a bathroom?) I scan my list.

Dry Cleaning Bags! As I head toward aisle four, scanning the shelves for "Dryell" I realize I'm lost. Candles and gift bags are in front me. "Melissa, concentrate!" I say to myself. I try to see clearly, and now, before me, is him. He smiles. I cannot bear to be near him -- he's that handsome. I'm certain he'll read my thoughts. ( What if he reads my thoughts? )

I get out of aisle four, and take refuge in the paper products aisle. Scott Tissue Double rolls go into my cart. Now, to just get the dry cleaning bags and get to the check out lane.

But then I think, "Maybe this guy might think I'm attractive?"

Maybe it's not just me that's thinking about eating spicy food together, or how chili peppers might affect our bodies, or interact with our deodorant?

I walk gingerly to the front of the store, and then pause. Should I wait until he's up here, before I check out? I could hang out in film and batteries for a second. The "Melissa, you're crazy" voice kicks back in, and I proceed to pay for my items. The female clerk starts to ring up my stuff, and all of a sudden, he's behind me , another female customer separating us.

I scan for newspapers and ask the clerk if they sell the New York Times. She says, "no," gives me my grand total. As she processes my credit card, I look up, and he's staring right at me. We lock eyes. Smile at one another. It's like this woman between us is invisible. I want to melt.

And then the moment is done. I turn to gather my things, and try not to run out of the store.

He was looking at me. It feels obvious. But now what? Now I'm in a parking lot. Outside Walgreens on Lake Street. I unlock my car and take a look at my vehicle. The black CRV ashy grey, covered in Minnesota Winter Salt Sand. My "Catholics for Obama" sticker standing out in blue on the back windshield of my car. "Ah, isn't it funny how we might make first impressions?" I think.

I get into my vehicle, and the next I thing I know: he is next to me, getting into a shiny silver four door sporty thing, parked to the right of my car. Maybe a Chrysler, maybe a Mercedes. What do I know of cars?

And now it's obvious. We are looking at one another through our car windows, and I want to throw up. What can either of us do?

If I get out of my car, I'm really a crazy woman; if he would move to say something, he's a black man approaching a white woman on Lake Street.

What ensues is of interest in that curious, awkward, point-of-wondering, "what-next?" sort of curiosity I think we all hold.

I send my friend Matt a text from the parking lot of Walgreens. "I just locked eyes with a hot fellow in Walgreens. I can't remember the last time I got weak in the knees over a fellow."

I write this, and take hold of my "rational" Midwestern senses, and put my car in drive and depart.

Ten blocks away, heading east, wondering where I'll get gas, and if I'll ever see this fellow again, I get Matt's text message as a response. "Take him home with you!" I read his message and laugh, and then think, "Of course!" I am not that far away. I decide to flip a u-turn, and head back to see if he's still in the parking lot. As I'm rounding the corner, I catch the hot guy turning into a gas station across the street. I laugh. Again: Of course! Of course he's around! Of course he's pulling into this convenience store 45 feet from me.

I just need to pull across the intersection, and I'll be in the same space as him again! As I ease across Lake Street into the Super America, hot man pulls out and flips around, heading back West to where we came from.

I laugh again.

I fill up with gas, and contemplate the encounter.

I met a hot man in a place that specializes in maintaining well-being. We locked eyes. We smiled. He lit a fire in my belly and being. When I thought to follow him, he lead me to a place where I could refuel and continue moving forward.

Yes!

For all of it, I say, "AMEN!"

And for my readers, I say, If you know this fellow, please send him back my way!!!

In love, stories, contemplation,

Melissa

How Much is Too Much?

This WNYC Radiolab broadcast aired on Minnesota Public Radio February 20, 2009, seems a powerful response (or precursor?) to Tom Friedman's NY Times column that I blogged about earlier today.*

Friedman's question, "What if the growth model we created over the last 50 years is simply unsustainable economically and ecologically?" gets the responding query from Barry Schwartz, "How much is too much?" As a contemplative writer and thinker looking at my own life, my community, and holding data and experiences about the larger world, I ask, "What is enough?"

"What is healthy human capacity? How much can we hold? What is sustainable?"
From the WNYC broadcast we glean a response, based on George Miller's classic paper, "The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two." Turns out the average human is able to hold about seven pieces of discreet information in working memory at any given time. "Any more than that, and, as researcher Baba Shiv demonstrates, our good judgment can be overwhelmed."

Do you have more than seven plus or minus two things to keep track of at this moment in time? This research and presentation begs that we take a look at what we are creating, consuming, trying to hold and sustain.

I encourage you all to listen. Whew. It's entertaining. Informative. Perhaps, life-changing?

Enjoy!
Happy contemplating,
Melissa

"When Mother Nature and the Market both said: 'No More.'" - Excerpts from Thomas Friedman's NY Times Column

"Preach it!" That's what I want to say loudly to Thomas Friedman today, in response to his column, "The Inflection is Near?" Friedman is funny, asking critical questions, and presenting his readers with promising answers - from a realistic, but optimistic point of view. Thank you! Here are my favorite lines. Let me know what you think.

To see the entire article, click here.

Let’s today step out of the normal boundaries of analysis of our economic crisis and ask a radical question: What if the crisis of 2008 represents something much more fundamental than a deep recession? What if it’s telling us that the whole growth model we created over the last 50 years is simply unsustainable economically and ecologically and that 2008 was when we hit the wall — when Mother Nature and the market both said: “No more.”

We have created a system for growth that depended on our building more and more stores to sell more and more stuff made in more and more factories in China, powered by more and more coal that would cause more and more climate change but earn China more and more dollars to buy more and more U.S. T-bills so America would have more and more money to build more and more stores and sell more and more stuff that would employ more and more Chinese ...

We can’t do this anymore. We have not generated real wealth, and we are destroying a livable climate ...’ Real wealth is something you can pass on in a way that others can enjoy.” Over a billion people today suffer from water scarcity; deforestation in the tropics destroys an area the size of Greece every year.

We are taking a system operating past its capacity and driving it faster and harder,” he wrote me. “No matter how wonderful the system is, the laws of physics and biology still apply.”

Let’s grow by creating flows rather than plundering more stocks.

Germany, Britain, China and the U.S. have all used stimulus bills to make huge new investments in clean power. South Korea’s new national paradigm for development is called: “Low carbon, green growth.” Who knew? People are realizing we need more than incremental changes — and we’re seeing the first stirrings of growth in smarter, more efficient, more responsible ways.

Often in the middle of something momentous, we can’t see its significance. But for me there is no doubt: 2008 will be the marker — the year when ‘The Great Disruption’ began.

Zimbabwe News...

Family, Friends,

Has anyone seen this? I'm not sure how many take note of Zimbabwe's Headlines, but this news on their prime minister and his wife is so sad.

That President Mugabe is still in power blows my mind. To read this now about Prime Minister Tsvangirai - (the man who opposed him in the last election, fled the country because of death threats - only to return and be instated as P.M.) is also mind boggling.

Here are Excerpts from the NYTimes Article: (click to read the entire thing.)

The prime minister of Zimbabwe, Morgan Tsvangirai, was hurt and his wife, Susan, was killed Friday in a car crash about 45 miles south of the capital, according to officials of Mr. Tsvangirai's political party, the Movement for Democratic Change

Mr. Tsvangirai has been the victim of multiple assassination attempts during his years as an opposition leader. Last year, he fled the country, fearing for his life, after he outpolled Mr. Mugabe in March presidential elections.

Mr. Tsvangirai and his wife were married for more than three decades. They have six children, including twins, age 14.

"They were a team; they were very effective and extremely close," Mr. Cross said of the couple. "She was very much a pillar of support, spiritually and in every other way. Morgan will feel her loss enormously. I can't think of many couples as close as those two."

"Closer to Fine:" Living in the Questions with the Indigo Girls

There's more than one answer to these questions

Pointing me in a crooked line

And the less I seek my source for some definitive

The closer I am to fine

- Indigo Girls

***

I lead a charmed life. This, I do believe.

Yesterday at this time, I was taking my seat in the Cities 97 Radio Station Studio C to hear a live recording of the Indigo Girls , as they prepare to release their latest CD, "Posieden and the Bitter Bug." For those of you who don't know these two rocking female singer/ songwriters, I encourage you to seek them out. For those who do, I imagine you'll understand my complete and utter joy at being invited to this event.

Goodness! What is it to be able to hear live music? What is to hear live music that you love? What is it to hear live music that has somehow changed your life? Transformed your perception, gave you pause and inspired you to consider something anew? Pierced your heart and made you feel less alone in the world? Yes! How often do we get to pay homage to the sources of inspiration in our life?

My longtime Phillipian friend and volunteer buddy, John Michaels, invited me to this event. Many of you may know John as the radio personality and traffic reporter at KTCZ Cities 97 (as well as several other stations). John rocks. He's funny. He has a great disposition. And John knows how to call out traffic conditions for the greater Twin Cities area, thereby increasing the capacity for people to move from one location to the next - with a little more ease, information, and peace of mind.

On this day, John Michaels helped me in my own sort of daily, blessed journey through relationship, work, service, as I navigated oodles of plaguing questions - all in graced time, with such powerful musical artists singing live before me, and the

loving, funny company beside me.

I'm trying to tell you something about my life

Maybe give me insight between black and white

And the best thing you've ever done for me

Is to help me take my life less seriously

Its only life after all

Yeah

I first heard the Indigo Girls with Jill Mayberger. Road tripping between Omaha and Denver to see my sister, Stephanie, in college, Jill introduced me to this raw acoustic female duo. When she put in the tape cassette of their 1989 self-titled release, "Indigo Girls," I think my life sort of changed. I know something in me shifted sideways at least. "Closer to Fine" played as the first song on the album, and I knew almost immediately that Emily and Amy were two women I had to be connected to, related to, on at least some level.

Well darkness has a hunger thats insatiable

And lightness has a call that's hard to hear

I wrap my fear around me like a blanket

I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it

I'm crawling on your shores

Who talks about the darkness? Who talks about light? How do we navigate the fear? How do we navigate any of this blasted life with all of its questions? What does it mean to wrap fear around you like a blanket? What does it mean to crawl on someone's shores? Whew. When I heard these lyrics of the Indigo Girls for the first time, I am certain I wept with their resonance. On Thursday, in Studio C, in the company of 40 other folks, I wept again.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains

Theres more than one answer to these questions

Pointing me in a crooked line

And the less I seek my source for some definitive

(the less I seek my source)

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine

Before I left for Cities 97 on Thursday, I was having a lovely lunch at my church, St. Phillips, where I volunteer. Excited about going to see these women perform live, I was raving to Betty Lou and Carol and Dale and Fr. Jules about their music. How does one really explain the Indigo Girls? How does one connect their faith community with their social arts community?

And I went to see the doctor of philosophy

With a poster of rasputin and a beard down to his knee

He never did marry or see a b-grade movie

He graded my performance, he said he could see through me

I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind

Got my paper and I was free

I tried singing this song, "Closer to Fine." I tried to recall the lyrics and their potency and describe this magic of their vocal harmonies.

I tried to find properly labeled recordings of the Indigo Girls on my laptop in my itunes folder. I couldn't.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains

Theres more than one answer to these questions

Pointing me in a crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

(the less I seek my source)

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine

Instead, I found myself rambling about doctors and philosophers and priests and lesbians and gay people and nuns and what it means to ask so many questions and seek answers. I tried to draw a connection between Jesus and Justice and Emily and Amy and our Catholic faith community and myself. I sighed. I smiled. I tried to communicate in words what seems the ineffable.

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.

To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend

And I woke up with a headache like my head against a board

Twice as cloudy as I'd been the night before

And I went in seeking clarity.

I sent my church colleagues a link to this song, "Closer to Fine" and then I headed out to the studio. There, before the authors of this potent song; there, before the raw, real, resonant lyrics being performed by these two lovely women, I celebrated. I swirled in my life questions, in my uncertainty, in my inabilities to fully articulate things, and I sang along.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains

I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains

Yeah we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains

We look to the children, we drink from the fountains

Yeah we go to the bible, we go through the workout

We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout

Theres more than one answer to these questions

Pointing me in a crooked line

The less I seek my source for some definitive

(the less I seek my source)

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine

The closer I am to fine

I do feel closer to fine with such work and words and wonder in the world.

"Wild Geese": Mary Oliver's Lent?

Today marks the beginning of Lent* in the Catholic church. This period of forty days, evoking Christ's time in the desert, is one we are all invited into. As a Christian, I think of it as a period of intentional contemplation - in the name of recognizing our utter humanity, and utter connectedness. I think of the many lenses a Catholic, or someone in another faith tradition, might perceive this period, and it gives me pause.

What is a forty day period of reflection about?

What gifts might we glean?

How many faith traditions practice such reflective periods - that include fasting? What do I encounter in the desert of my soul?

What if I encounter rage? Or demons? Where is love within?

I wonder what this Jesus fellow experienced in His time? How are He and I related?

I wonder about Mary Oliver and her Lenten dance? Did she ever walk through a desert? What does she know about being "Good" or being labeled as "Bad"?

I wonder how her poem "Wild Geese" was born?

What does she know of repentance? Of love? I wonder how the natural world might have spoken to Christ during his lifetime?

Could this be similar to you and me?

I wonder a lot of things. I offer Ms. Oliver's poem as another way into this season of reflection, love, forgiveness, transformation. Amen.

Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

from Dream Work by Mary Oliver

published by Atlantic Monthly Press

© Mary Oliver

*The Teutonic word Lent, which we employ to denote the forty days' fast preceding Easter, originally meant no more than the spring season.

More Franti and Spearhead: "Sometimes" - It's a Dance Party!

"I love Michael Franti. I'm going to have Sylvie start listening to him… what great music for a dance party!" - Emily Borgmann*

It's a dance party in my apartment right now. I am in love with this guy at this moment. Woohoo!

*giggle*giggle*shake*snap*step*giggle*

*These words from my sister in law inspired me to post another Franti/ Spearhead video to my blog. The song is called "Sometimes." (See if you can recognize the "Rollercoaster" sample.) I appreciate Mr. Franti dancing on stage, rocking it out, around minute 1:20. Yes!

I feel so lucky to get to see such performers live! Love! I know a number of you will rock it out at your offices, at your desks, in your homes now. Enjoy!

LOVE!

Michael Franti In Minneapolis: "Say Hey!" Happy Valentine's Day!

"Seems like every where I go, the more I see, the less I know."

I love this song. The simplicity. The sweetness. The story.

This evening I will have the pleasure of seeing Michael Franti perform this live with Spearhead at the Orpheum Theater in downtown Minneapolis. As a precursor to tonight's event, I share this You Tube music video of his latest song, "Say Hey (I love you.) " It says volumes to me about the sweet, simple, profound notion of love, and what our journeys really teach us.

Enjoy!

Melissa

Vusi Mahlasela at the Ordway: Another kind of Church

I had the amazing privilege and pleasure of seeing this rocking South African perform last night in St. Paul. Yeah to the Ordway for bringing Vusi Mahlasela here. All day, I was referring to the event, and trying to describe how powerful it was when people got up from their "pews" to dance in the aisles. Realizing we weren't in church, I thought my mistake was actually quite appropriate, as the concert felt like being at a rocking service.

An additional note: In the opening of this song, recorded in Johannesburg, South Africa, at the Live 8 concert, Vusi reminds me so much of former Teens Rock the Mic poets, spitting poetic narratives quickly into the mic...In this case, Mr. Mahlasela speaks as witness - or in testimony- to the crimes committed during Apartheid...However bleak it may seem, it's truly a song of hope and healing.

Enjoy!

Strange Fruit: A Reflection on Race, Culture, Faith, and Dialogue from the North Side

Southern trees bear strange fruit,

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
- Strange Fruit, Billie Holiday

It's Wednesday night. I am at the Church of St. Philips in North Minneapolis. Actress and singer Thomasina Taylor Petrus is performing in the Mixed Blood Theater production of the one-woman show, "Daughters of Africa." At the corner of 26th and Bryant, inside this Catholic church, I am a member of this diverse audience that includes neighborhood children and teens, parents and mentors all gathered with fellow church members and Patchwork Quilt volunteers from partnering parishes around the Twin Cities. Black, White. Brown, yellow. Old, young. All are welcome and assembled for this free community performance of a musical honoring the lives and legacies of African American women through the ages.

At this moment, I am struck by Ms. Petrus' performance of Billie Holiday. The actress embodies this vocal legend -- physically, emotionally --singing "Strange Fruit" from the stage space created in front of the church's alter. In the course of her song, hearing these harrowing and powerful lyrics, I take note of the setting. I stand in awe of this juxtaposition of a Holiday in our midst, offering such potent words, with Christ on the Cross behind her, hanging atop a multi-colored stone-constructed wall.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,

Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.

My breathe stops short for a second. I pause, and take it in. Blood on the leaves. Blood at the root. Bulging eyes, twisted mouth. Bodies swinging. The scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh.

A month ago, I sat in this same space, to witness the ecumenical memorial service for Annshalike Hamilton, a 15 year old young girl found frozen in a garage, two blocks away, having been beaten to death. She was 7 months pregnant. Every sunday, I attend mass in this same space, blending with a congregation of West Africans and Polish Immigrants, North Siders, Suburban members and other Urban dwellers. And I am moved by it all: the proximity of people and tales, language and culture, crucifixion and terror, faith and community, fear and love, creation and transcendence -- all in one space. All seem to converge and speak directly to my core as some kind of celebratory witness of our humanity.

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

By the time the performance ends, we have seen Harriet Tubman, Elisabeth Freeman, Madam C.J. Walker, Zora Neale Hurston, Lena Horne, Rosa Parks, Oprah Winfrey. All come to life. All these women tell their stories, sing and engage our crowd.

Afterwards, after the applause, after the question and answer period -- after the little kids marvel and move toward Thomasina, after the children crawl up to sit next to her, after I even add my comment about this moment that has stood out to me -- this is when I have the next conversation. The layered conversation, the race meets faith meets culture and language conversation.

Fr. Jules Omba Omalanga, my newly installed pastor from the Congo, is locking up the place. I say to this dear man, with brown skin and a warm, round face, "Hey! Good stuff, eh, Pere Jules?"

He is beaming, and notes, in his African-French-accented English: "Did you see all the little kids coming up to her? I love seeing children so engaged."

I smile. I nod. I say, "And, this took place in church, Father!? And there was not one overt mention of Jesus!?" He nods and turns his head to me. I continue, "It's powerful what the arts and opportunities like this do for engaging us all, eh?"

I want to squeeze him. I want to thank him for his role in having this kind of thing happen in our church. I want to talk about my own large catholic spirit layered notions of how faith intersects with story, and works to inspire us all. I hold back. I wonder if this appropriate? I wonder if my Congolese Catholic priest gleans the way words shared, performed, sung this evening, are not unlike the words we hear shared each Sunday morning at service? I consider the way I feel fed by this performance, in a similar way to how I feel fed each time I attend mass and receive the Eucharist. I wonder if I can even utter such things? I wonder how he perceives, what he gleans of this evening, what he gets from the history of African Americans? I wonder too, especially, what it's like when his own Congolese and French-speaking self has only been here a few short years? I wonder if he understands me? Ultimately, I wonder if I understand him?

"Fr. Jules, did you get the "Strange Fruit" reference I mentioned?"

He shakes his head, "no" and continues locking up. Fumbling with keys, he says, "What is this 'strange fruit'?"

I try to explain, "It's an allusion to the lynching of an African American in a song by Billie Holiday."

"What is this word, "lynching?" he asks, still turning locks, still looking puzzled.

I pause, put my hand on his arm, "Father, imagine Jesus is black, and instead of a cross, he's hanging from a rope in a tree. That is 'lynching.'"

Then he nods, stopping, looking straight at me, and says, "Yes. I know many stories like this. It reminds me of stories from home. Stories from places the Congo and other African countries... like in Darfur. I know what this is."

Whew. And there's another conversation, right? Another 15 conversations! Here I am thinking all about catholicism and race and culture and history as it mixes itself up on the North side. Here I am trying to sort if this fellow and I have much in common and how we might ever really communicate, understand one another, be on the same page. And here, in this honest exchange, in this slowing down and stopping sort-of-exchange, my priest and friend takes me right out into the larger world. Into his home country, and into his experiences -- into spaces that I have no first hand knowledge of, but desire to understand deeply. He also takes me right into his own heart. I feel like I am present, lucky, so privileged to be standing here and part of something that feels so much larger.

And it makes me ask:

How many layers of communication must we peel back until we are all on the same page -- until we are all speaking about the same thing, using a common language, or common frame of reference? How many doors, hallways, buildings, alleys, (continents) do we travel over and through, until we find ourselves euphemistically, literally, in same room? What does it take to get there? How many keys do we need? How many doors do we lock and unlock? How many plays and masses and funerals do we attend? How many conversations do we have? Who wants to go through all the work? Who wants the hastle, the mess, the emotion? Who wants to hold feelings of perhaps being lost or confused? Who wants to acknowledge the work, and what exists in this room, on this page, when we arrive? And why would any of us want to go there?

These are questions I'm passionate about. These are questions that plague me. These are questions that seem to be at the heart of all my work and experiences of late. Whew. So I put them out here, in light of this recent encounter, and I invite you to hold this with me.

I invite you into the strange fruit experiences, conversations and contemplations of your own.

LOVE!

Melissa

Something From Richard Rohr - Toward Wisdom

I love this reflection from Franciscan priest, Richard Rohr. It's a bit on reflection, contemplation, living in the present moment, moving beyond duality and toward wisdom....I think President Barack Obama knows about this "Third Way" that Rohr refers to here....

Smiles, Love,
Happy Contemplating!
Melissa

***

The contemplative mind does not need to prove anything or disprove anything. It's just what the Benedictines called a Lectio Divina reading of the Scripture that looks for wisdom that says, "What does this text ask of me to change about me?"

The contemplative mind lets the terrifying wonderful moment be what it is and primarily ask something of me, not always using it to convert the nations.

The contemplative mind is willing to hear from a beginner's mind, yet also learn from the Tradition. It has the humility to receive both/and thinking and not all or nothing thinking. Now we call this non-dual thinking. It leads to what we call the Third Way, neither fight nor flight, but standing in between where I can hold what I do know together with what I don't know. And let that wonderful mix lead me to wisdom instead of this quick knowledge which largely just creates opinionated people and not wise people.

Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, in the CAC webcast, Nov. 8, 2008:
What is The Emerging Church?

Your Responses to President Obama's Speech

The following are a collection of your responses to President Obama's Inaugural Address, that I have had the privilege of receiving in my email inbox. I stand in awe. Humbled. In love. Moved. Inspired. Hopeful. Grateful. Yes. For what unifies us, gives us hope, and invites us to continually be about the change that we so desire on this planet. I point you especially to the words of Nomi Nkomo, who, along with Colette Deharpporte, inspired me to initially publish the blog posting on Obama's speech. Nomi writes to further clarify why President Obama's line about creation vs. destruction was so powerful to her. I find her writing as a South African friend, alongside all of yours, insightful and wise, and giving voice to that which doesn't often get named, seen, acknowledged.

For it all, I say, "Amen!"

Happy Contemplating!
Melissa

***

Nomi Nkomo said...

"Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy." - President Obama

I can't even call it a 'favourite line'. It was profound. It was a truth. We don't speak those. They mean nothing to us. We feel them but we don't speak them because speaking them would give life to them. If it's alive, we have to acknowledge its existence.

What it meant to me was so much more than a message to the Iraqi leaders. He was saying 'forgive'. Forgiveness frees you to move forward and build. Holding on to anything is a hindrance and you focus on what is/went wrong instead of celebrating the lessons and focusing on what is important - you, your well-being, the people that matter to you, your future, your family, your truths, your reality.

"[Your] people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy" - What matters in life is your successes, not your failures. I need to remember that it's my successes that matter, not my failures. I... need to remember that people will judge me on what I can build, not what I destroy.

When he said it there was a stunned silence. Honestly, it was the most powerful thing he said. Live up to that and tell me it wasn't... you know?

Nomi
***

Andrea said...

Amen, amen and amen, sister!

xo
Andrea

***
Jane K said...

Dear Melissa,

These grabbed me:
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord. The nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous.

The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on the ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history, but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

words of hope,
peace
Jane

***

Sarah G. said...

Yee-haw!

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tmr said...

thank you so much...i so appreciate your sharing this link and your sentiment ~ you're the best!

peace be...

t.
***

Sondra Samuels said...

I love it!!
SS

Sondra Samuels,
President
PEACE Foundation
1119 W. Broadway Ave.
Minneapolis, MN
***

Colleen said...

My favorite line is actually from his acceptance speech at the DNC
"Let us lead by the force of example, not an example of force."

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Kate Johnson said...

Amen, Sister!

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Cece Ryan said...

AMEN!!!!!!!! We got to watch it here at work on the big screen in our conference center. My Favorite is also “for we know that our patchwork……… and I do hope that we can finally put aside childish things, like party lines to accomplish the things that will serve all people!

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Anonymous said...

My Dearest Queen Mab,

You have my AMEN. When the pastor started reciting the "Our Father" moments before the swearing in...I found myself joining in prayer outloud...in unison...in hope...in faith...in love.
Lovingly,
A.

***

Jody said...

Okay, in addition to what you have written (apologies if I repeat anything you already had I'm trying not to) here are some phrases that stuck out to me.

-On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

-In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never given, it must be earned.

-What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them - that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families find jobs decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified.

-To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds.

-For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.

-But those values upon which our success depends - hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism...

-This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

And of course all that you shared before which were the things at the top of my list before the ones I listed above.

***

Tanya said...

Amen my friend!! AMEN!!!

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Julia said...

AMEN!

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Sr. Rafael Tilton said...

AMEN AMEN!!
Sr. Rafael

***
Julie Landsman said...

I loved the poem by Alexander too...

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Philip said...

We'll I hate to rub it in, but I just had to say, "Yes, I caught it live!" I was one of the many who attended it….it was simply an electric atmosphere.

***
Brendan and Marie said...

How marvelous to get a glimpse into the world's reaction to our miracle! Thanks for sharing this with us.

Prayers for our new President, his Cabinet and our government--they will need them every day as they face the task of rebuilding our country.

Regards, Marie and Brendan

***
Ann Dillard said...

Amen!

The Inauguration of President Barack Obama: Honoring His Words

Friends Far and Wide,

As a way to simply honor this historic moment in our Nation's history, in our World's history, I point to lines from President Obama's speech that struck a chord with me. I watched this at home on my television in St. Paul, Minnesota, taking notes and tuning in and out through tears and awe, joy, wonder. I turned to friends on Facebook, as my computer alerted me to messages coming through, simultaneously in response to President Obama's Inaugural address.

When Nomi Nkomo in Johannesburg, South Africa, and Colette Deharpporte in Northeast Minneapolis, posted the exact same excerpt from President Obama's speech as their "status update," I knew I needed to comment as well.

"Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy." - President Obama

Amen.

I honor the fullness of this moment, by simply echoing back words, phrases, lines, from this new leader's speech, that speak to my heart, mind, spirit and inspire me to lean into our future with hope.

"In the words of Scripture, 'the time has come to set aside childish things...'

America is a friend of each nation. We are ready to lead once more...

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace....

Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy..." -President Barack Obama

Again, can I get an "Amen"?

Here's a link to the entire text of his speech. I'd love to hear your favorite lines.

Happy contemplating!

In Peace, Love, Leadership,

Melissa

Being Free and Mature in Love: A Prayerful Reflection on MLK, Jr. Day

Does this speak to you?

My friend Jody has the following passage from Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, copied onto the cover of her journal:

"If your prayer is not enticing you outside your comfort zones, if your Christ is not an occasional 'threat,' you probably need to do some growing up and learning to love. You have to develop an ego before you can let go of it." -Fr. Richard Rohr in "Everything Belongs"

These words caught my attention this afternoon during our time together on this Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday. With this passage next to Fr. Henri Nouwen's meditation for the day,* copied below, I have this inclination to type and sing boldly:

Love! Dancing! Space! Growing up in Love! Freedom! Yes! Woohoo!

Both priests call us toward a maturity, a letting go, a love that transcends so much of what our frail, human egos and beings naturally cling to. And this says volumes to my heart today about what true emancipation can be, and IS, when we get out of the way. The juxtaposition of prayerful words, along with the legacy and dream of Dr. King, hold some powerful implications, then, and lead me to ask:

What does it take to be free? To heal? To lead a nation? To have people and unity in our homes, and throughout the world?

Creating Space to Dance Together

When we feel lonely we keep looking for a person or persons who can take our loneliness away. Our lonely hearts cry out, "Please hold me, touch me, speak to me, pay attention to me." But soon we discover that the person we expect to take our loneliness away cannot give us what we ask for. Often that person feels oppressed by our demands and runs away, leaving us in despair. As long as we approach another person from our loneliness, no mature human relationship can develop. Clinging to one another in loneliness is suffocating and eventually becomes destructive. For love to be possible we need the courage to create space between us and to trust that this space allows us to dance together. - Fr. Henri Nouwen

Happy Contemplating!

Peace,

Melissa

The Audacity of Hope: Today's Prayer, Pre-Inauguration Day

Living with Hope

Optimism and hope are radically different attitudes. Optimism is the expectation that things-the weather, human relationships, the economy, the political situation, and so on-will get better. Hope is the trust that God will fulfill God's promises to us in a way that leads us to true freedom. The optimist speaks about concrete changes in the future. The person of hope lives in the moment with the knowledge and trust that all of life is in good hands.

All the great spiritual leaders in history were people of hope. Abraham, Moses, Ruth, Mary, Jesus, Rumi, Gandhi, and Dorothy Day all lived with a promise in their hearts that guided them toward the future without the need to know exactly what it would look like. Let's live with hope. - Fr. Henri Nouwen

I am inspired today by these prayerful words from Fr. Henri Nouwen. They take me to the notion of "hope" that Barack Obama has written and spoken about, and exemplifies in his leadership. It's all such an audacious thing, indeed! What a season and time we are all living in, eh? There's so much we are celebrating in Obama's upcoming Inauguration, following Monday's US Holiday honoring Dr. Martin Luther King's legacy and life.....These are two beautiful leaders of hope, who are fueled by our collective witness to this notion! Do you agree? I'm equally appreciative of Fr. Henri Nouwen's listing of other hopeful leaders.

I wonder, "Where do you consider yourself in this line up? What do you live with? How does faith inform your navigation and leaning into the present moment? Where is your hope as is relates to your future?"

Happy Contemplating!

In peace, prayers, love, hope,

Melissa

International Communication...

Video Skype anyone? Goodness!

I'm sitting at the Fireroast Mountain Cafe in South Minneapolis, and for the past hour have been mesmerized by a young blond who is wearing a headset and has a small video camera mounted to her computer. She has been speaking softly in another language, and conversing clearly with a person via her laptop and this internet connection. She laughs. Smiles. Nods. And I hear this foreign language spoken that takes me to scenes abroad. To life abroad. I imagine different warmer settings and time zones and something outside the frosty morning here in South Minneapolis. I am happy next to this woman.

She packs up her computer and equipment, and I learn she was talking with her sister and parents in Germany. (I have to inquire, right?) She is an education student doing an internship here in a German Immersion school, and has been studying and working in St. Paul for the past four and a half months. She has four weeks to go. She shares that this technology has been a saving grace. "It's just like they are next door, and I can reach out and see them and hear their voice, and it makes me so happy, less homesick."

I have at some point in the recent past been conversing with many of you about what it is to dialogue across nations, lines, borders, races, classes, boundaries....and how we develop and maintain relationships while living, traveling, studying abroad. I'm especially interested in how we raise families and children in the larger world. Seeing this technology at work inspires me as I lean into my future and imagine the possibilities of life and love....Here. And Abroad.

Yes!

Happy Contemplating and Communications!
Melissa

Exploring "Church": Art and Its Power to Transform Lives

"Church" Written and Directed by Young Jean Lee, caught my attention this morning on the Walker Arts Center Calendar of Upcoming Events.

The pre-performance tour opportunity entitled "Art and Its Power to Transform Lives: Exploring Church - Beyond the Gallery: A Multidisciplinary Approach to Tours" is what took me to the home page and this new work by Young Jean Lee's Theater Company.

Here's some text from that site.....

"Her slyly subversive drama ambushes its audience with an earnest and surprisingly moving Christian church service that might be the most unlikely provocation produced in years." —New York Times

Playwright /director Young Jean Lee, whose Songs of the Dragons Flying to Heaven was the sold-out hit of Out There 19, returns with her most stirring and potentially disturbing work. Even as Church's charismatic and left-leaning central preacher defies traditionally held Christian assumptions, he conveys a passionate message about religion having the power to transform lives, backed up by three female ministers. . . .

Let me know if you are interested in seeing this!

Peace, Love,

Melissa