There’s a horrific case unfolding in my community this week…at the moment, six members of one family accused of sexually abusing at least some of the children of one of the family members. I have known one of the men. Not well, but attended church at times with him and his wife. And his wife works in the same place I do.

My stomach just clenches each time I hear a news person say “And now for the update on the breaking sex scandal…”. I wonder what’s coming next.

And I find myself hoping both that the story is true and that it’s not true. If it is indeed true, then children were horribly abused by individuals they should have been able to trust. And the lives some of the individuals lived as ministers were lies. But if the accusations are the result of a bitter dispute between one of the men and an ex-wife–which some are claiming–then it is also tragic, and a number of lives have been ruined. Reputations can never be recovered.

So I find myself torn…and able only to pray for healing for all involved. Whichever story is true indicates a terrible rift between family members who once loved and trusted each other–and only God can bring the healing that is so desperately needed.

In an age when the fine arts seem to be a favorite target of budget cuts, why should that bother anyone?

I can remember hearing classical music as cartoon background music when I was a kid–even though I didn’t know it. But for people of a certain age, there are some tunes that can’t be heard without seeing Bugs Bunny relaxing in the forest or Elmer Fudd with his trusty shotgun, swearing that he is going to “kill the wabbit…”

But is there any “value” to the fine arts? to classical music–and the organ–especially? Or are they just nice frills that can easily be cut with no harm?

For some folks, I think that must be true. Yet for others of us, a world without the arts is a world that in many ways is not worth living in…a drab, colorless world with nothing that nurtures the soul.

And unfortunately, it seems that the idea that fine arts aren’t really necessary has penetrated into many of our churches as well.

I understand that there are many styles of music and worship that minister to different people. In fact, I attend an outreach congregation that regularly uses bands in worship…..except that once a month, I am asked to provide the music on our keyboard–music from my background (which is as a classically trained organist), and it is well accepted.

So yes, the fine arts are important in worship–hopefully!

But even more than that, they open doors to conversations and opportunities to share in safe ways. People will come to fine arts events who would never come to “church” stuff–and in those environments, can feel safe to raise questions about why I do what I do. It’s not that they give me carte blanche to beat someone over the head with my faith witness–they don’t. But they open doors for dialogue to occur, misconceptions to be corrected, areas of commonality to be found.

So why bother with the fine arts? Well, besides the obvious (to me) answer that for many of us they nurture our souls, they are yet another way in which people from many backgrounds and traditions can find ways to share together in worship and praise–and learn from and about each other–without all the “stuff” that often gets in the way when we try to talk church.

This last weekend we had a sale at my mother’s condo of the things that she did not take with her when she moved to the nursing home.

When my brothers were here earlier this summer–when she moved–we each were able to take the things that we really wanted…the things that were significant memories to us. And Mom was able to enjoy watching what we selected–and knowing why.

So I didn’t think that the sale would be a “big thing.” And yet…

Most of the time I was able to see items leave with no problem, pleased that many of them went to people who had known and respected and loved my parents, people who wanted something to remember them by. Many of them will be helping others create special memories.

But occasionally, something went by and I found myself wincing a bit. Not because it was something I wanted to keep, but because some small item triggered thoughts that this really was the end of a chapter of life… I still have the memories, just not all of the things that might connect to them–but then I can’t keep all the “things.”

The time is coming closer when I will be the senior member of my family, and I think that’s probably what underlies some of the wincing I found myself doing. In many ways, I’m not ready for that–and yet, it’s coming, whether I’m ready or not. It’s part of life’s cycle.

Most of what Mom had left has now found new homes. Some I know where…much of it went to people I don’t know, but who found something they could use or that met a need or desire. And so, while one chapter of life closed, its closing has opened new chapters for others, and I’m glad.

Do you ever see news stories that make you wonder, “What was someone thinking of??” Or sometimes, even, “Was anyone thinking at all??”

Let me say first off that I think the idea of field trips for individuals in mental institutions has some real value in helping folks begin to feel comfortable moving back into the “real” world.

However…how on earth anyone ever thought that taking a mentally ill killer on a field trip–to a county fair of all places!–was a good idea boggles my mind. Especially when the nurses who were caring for him protested that he was unstable and that they thought that the field trip was not a good idea.  And then…after he ditched his chaperones, why did it take 2 hours before 911 was called??

I’m just glad that this particular situation ended without anyone being hurt–and trust that those in charge have learned a few things, i.e.:

• It’s a good idea to think if a decision you make would please you and your family if you weren’t the one making the decision.
• Listen to the folks who are closest to the situation if there’s any question about whether something is a good idea or not.
• If something goes wrong, act quickly to start getting it fixed.

I watched the movie by this title last night. It was quite a powerful experience–there were times when I thought I was going to have to go get a kleenex…as well as times when I chuckled…and time when I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

It’s a film that tells the stories of 5 families and their journeys as they learn to live with homosexuality as it impacts them. It doesn’t seek to convert anyone to a specific point of view. Rather, it seeks to help us see “the other” as a human being who struggles with who they are and whom we are called to see as brother and sister.

The stories aren’t easy. There aren’t always happy endings. But are they real? Oh yes!

Part of the film involves discussion with theologians concerning the passages that are so often used to make homosexuals somehow “less than” those who are heterosexual. They stressed the importance of reading in context–of knowing the customs and traditions of the time the scriptures were written…

There are almost 2000 years of biblical study and scholarship that we can draw on–but we have tended to pull out the literalism of only the last 100 years. The film points out that the question, “What does the Bible really say?” does not have easy answers–and that we all pick and choose the portions we take literally.

I love shrimp…I often wear clothes of mixed fibers…I had a cheeky son who is still alive…I buy produce that was grown in fields of mixed crops…I put my money in banks that gives interest–and I sometimes make loans and charge interest… All of these are part of the same chapter that is used to condemn homosexuals–but I don’t have people condemning me or suggesting that I be stoned to death because I don’t obey them (at least not in this country–yet…).

When will we learn that what the Bible tells me is that God loves all of God’s creation? And that if I truly want to be a follower of the Christ, he challenged–and continues to challenge me–to live up to this standard (quoted from Matthew 22:35-40 in The Message version of the Bible):

When the Pharisees heard how he had bested the Sadducees, they gathered their forces for an assault. One of their religion scholars spoke for them, posing a question they hoped would show him up: “Teacher, which command in God’s Law is the most important?”

Jesus said, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’ These two commands are pegs; everything in God’s Law and the Prophets hangs from them.”

My faith tradition is struggling with a number of issues currently. One of them–that is (and has the potential of being even more) one of the most divisive has to do with issues of sexuality.

I’d like to think that it deals with all issues of sexuality, but in reality, it deals with those who are members of the GLBT community. And the question really boils down to whether they are–or can be–full members of the community…whether our words about “the worth of all people” really mean anything.

For many years, we’ve said that we value all people–that all are called, according to the gifts of God to them. And in the past, there were individuals who were members of the GLBT community who did function–and functioned very effectively!–as ministers. We really didn’t worry about what went on in people’s bedrooms.

But unfortunately we are not just part of a faith community. We are also part of the broader community and have in many ways been informed and impacted by what has been taking place there–where homosexuality (in particular) has become a bogey-man and those who are GLBT have somehow been determined to somehow be threats to those of us who are straight and to our marriages.

I have yet to figure out how! If my marriage is solid, why should it be threatened by someone else who happens to be in love with someone of the same gender? A far bigger threat to heterosexual marriage, from my perspective, lies in the “serial monogamy” that is practiced by so many heterosexuals!

But back to the issue of their acceptance in my faith community… We believe our ministers are called by God. Yes, humanity is a part of that calling, but ff we really believe that those who call individuals to ministry are responding to what they sense as God’s call, then who are we to tell God, “Oops, you made a mistake! You should never have called that person because they’re gay. Didn’t you know that?!?”

And who am I to tell someone else that they cannot have a sacramental blessing of the monogamous relationship they have developed with someone else in the same way I have with my spouse–just because it happens to be someone of the same gender? Granted, I don’t understand that attraction, but I have heard far too many people I care for talk about their knowledge from early childhood that somehow they were different because they were never attracted to someone of the opposite gender to come to the conclusion that somehow homosexuality is a choice. And if it’s not a choice, then how can I–or my faith community–refuse them sacramental blessings? or the opportunity to bring ministry in response to God’s calling?

The body of Christ is blessed with people of many backgrounds, gifts, skills–and we need all of them. All of them. To parrot words of acceptance and worth of all–and yet push some of God’s beloved children to the margins–just doesn’t work for me…

I don’t know what the answer is. I just know that somehow we need to make our words and actions match.

I’ve often wondered what starts young women down the road of bulimia or anexoria. Can they not see the harm they are doing to themselves?

I know there are a lot of factors involved in those diseases–but in the last few weeks I’ve begun to realize how easy it would be to get sucked into that situation…

I’ve been working out with both the WiiFit and EA SportsActive software, alternating between the active workout with the SportsActive software and the balance games and yoga with WiiFit. Both programs have ways of tracking your progress; since I started with WiiFit, I’ve kept my exercise record there. (Next time I start the 30-day challenge with EA, I may do more there, but this is my first time through that program.)

The WiiFit allows me to record the amount of time I’ve spent with their workouts as well as entering “activity credits” for exercise I’ve done in other ways. It also–through its “body test” allows me to check my standing center of balance, weight/BMI, and agility/balance. The first and last of these tests are fun and interesting…

But…I’ve discovered that as I check my weight/BMI, it’s easy for that information to become a center of attention. The numbers are staying pretty consistent currently, and I’m okay with that. I feel good where I am–and it’s a healthy weight/BMI.

However, a few weeks ago, as I was focusing on losing a few pounds, I realized I needed to be careful! I was intrigued in watching the line on the graph go down–and found myself thinking, “I wonder how much further down I could get it to go…”. Not good! So I’ve had to intentionally refocus on why I’m checking that information–and to realize that it’s just a tool, not a goal.

My personality, though, tends to have at least some obsessive-compulsive elements in it…and it’s certainly helped me to realize how easy it is to get sucked into situations that could create significant health problems–especially in light of all the emphasis on what it means to be “beautiful” in today’s culture.

I’m not sure what the answer is, except to somehow help people realize that true beauty comes from the inside.

I love going to the Kansas City Renaissance Festival every year! Last year I played for the apprentice graduation–and this year I played for the coronation and will again play for the apprentice graduation.

I’ve sometimes thought that I would love to live during that time period. And in many ways, that’s true.

I love the costumes that the members of the royal court wear. But when it’s hot–as it can be in Missouri in August–they can be miserable! (Especially since the costumes that they wear are made to be as authentic as possible!) It takes a long time to get dressed in them–and it’s hard to run and play as I like to… And to be a woman in the court meant walking a very fine line when it came to love and marriage!

The castles are fun to explore–but there was a reason for all the wall hangings–to try to keep the cold out. Fires were nice (and I love a good fire)–but that meant you roasted on one side and froze on the other.

Besides that, not everyone in the medieval period could be a member of the royal court! There were far more people who were peasants. Granted, those costumes would be more bearable in the Missouri heat–but not so comfortable in damp, rainy weather! And those poor folks really had no rights…especially the women.

While it was a time of exploration and inventiveness, it was also a time of the plague, lack of sanitation, short life expectancies, interesting medical issues, not a lot of food…

It’s fun to dream…but I’m just as happy to be living in this time period. It’s so easy to look back and romanticize what I didn’t live through–I wonder how future generations will romanticize the 20th century??

I love the song from Lion King – “The Circle of Life.”

And yet, I don’t think I’ve really thought through what it means.

Our grandson is now home from his time with his mother. He hasn’t been gone all that long–only a month–and yet I can see so many changes in him. He looks taller (even if he really isn’t!), and while he still has some childish ways, I can see him the beginnings of maturity. I know that this next year, as he moves into middle school, we will undoubtedly alternate between wanting to be a child and wanting to be seen as “grown-up”–and that will be difficult at times. Yet I can rejoice in his part in the circle of life.

Last night, I picked up my mother to take to a special church service–and seeing her part in the circle of life is more difficult. She is beginning to lose some of the “adult-ness” and is becoming more child-like in many ways. This is a difficult time for her, because she is aware of some of those losses and is unsure how to deal with them. At times she weeps because of the difference between who she is now and who she remembers being.

It’s also difficult for me, because part of those losses mean that we have the same conversation several times in the course of a few minutes…her short-term memory is not functioning well. And so I have to remember that when she repeats the same comments–or asks the same questions–she’s not trying to frustrate me. She honestly does not remember that she’s given me that information or asked that question before. Patience has never been a strong virtue of mine…

I’m beginning to understand more a scene that was one of my favorites in Bruce Almighty:

Nobody ever said that the circle of life was easy…and role reversal is part and parcel of it. I could fight against it, but it wouldn’t change anything. And so the best I can do is continue to struggle with living the reality that is, not the reality that I might wish for.

For much of my life I’ve heard the phrase, “The only constant in life is change.” So true! And we are dealing with more changes…

This week we are moving my mother into a nursing home. She is still mostly independent, but we are seeing signs that indicate is it time for her to be in a place where she can get more care–and where her nutrition is better monitored…and where some memory issues that she is dealing with can also be watched more carefully.

It’s been quite a journey getting to this point. I think I was there before my brothers were–and we kids were before Mom was. Probably true in many similar situations.

It’s the closing of one chapter of life and the beginning of another…Mom’s closing out the place where she spent Dad’s last years with him; we’re really facing the fact that there are a limited number of years left with Mom; and we’re also facing the fact that we are getting close to being the “senior” members of the family.

Those aren’t easy changes for any of us. And yet…we can’t stay where we were, even if we wanted to.

The best we can do is come to grips with reality as it is, not as we would like it to be.