I was installed yesterday as called pastor. And a friend was dismissed from her congregation.

Our churches are in trouble and we don't know what to do. Amid the joy yesterday, a session member remarked that it was wonderful that "my friend Xavier" came for my installation. "My friend Xavier" is an African American young man with two twins with severe speech problems (they are four and do not yet speak). He is jobless and comes to the church and asks for work. I think he asks for handouts. This man has needs and has come to church to find help for those needs. He is MY friend. He is not a recurring visitor. He is not a potential new member.

The congregation will be overjoyed to learn that a couple has decided to join the church. One son has some difficulties and is extremely hard to manage. The Sunday school teachers have an extra person who works just with him. This couple has needs: a need for a safe place for their son to be loved and cared for. They have found their needs met in this congregation. They are not MY friends. They are potential new members. (Oh, they are white, middle class, dress nicely.)

I have no idea how I can open the congregation up to the possibility that Xavier is as much a part of us as the couple. That God has sent Xavier to us as clearly as God has sent two couples with young children. I say that, but it seems to slide off them.

An article in the NYTimes says that women are likely to be divorced after they are diagnosed with cancer. Husbands disappear. Wives tend to stick with their sick husbands.

Are female clergy more likely to stay with sick churches than male clergy?

Education

I got into another one of those arguments with a parishioner--why the Memphis schools are so bad. I place the blame directly on those so-called Christian schools that grew up in the wake of integration. Then I made the statement that those schools mean that we spend less on the public schools than we ought to. The parishioner said that she had seen something that said that Memphis had one of the highest per pupil expenditures in the country. I declared that the statement could not be true. (Tact is not my strong suit.)

And so I looked. Memphis spends a lot per pupil, compared to the rest of Tenneessee (though a quick survey showed Nashville spends more). But, here is the surprise. Memphis spends about 2/3s the national average of all school districts. I took a look at a couple of northern states and their large districts spend much more than the national average. The school district attended (where he was the only white child in the class for three years) spends 2.5 times what Memphis does.

I looked at North Carolina and their expenditures were a smidge more than Tennessee. Durham schools seem to be the most spendy.

So, what is the connection between spending on education and the education of the population.

When I told my parishioner what I had found, she was amazed. She then asked, "well, I can't imagine how we could spend more money. Where would it come from?" My response, where we spend our money reflects what we value. (A reprise from my sermon on Sunday.)

Now, I grew up in North Carolina, in a family that valued education. When Terry Sanford was governor back in the 60s he wanted to move North Carolina to the forefront of education. California was the model for the state university system (the conservatives hit California with Prop whatever which drastically reduced spending for education in California, much to their detriment.)

Now, in my rambling: why do we not see the benefit of paying taxes so our children can be educated? Why are we so short sighted that we would rather spend our money on our toys than on our future and the future of our children?

Worship

I continue to meditate over why we worship and how the forms of worship fit with why we worship.

About a month ago, we had a meeting after church to talk about worship. Several people said they didn't like being read to.

I have been wondering about that. I try to read with expression. It is mainly sermons that I read occassionally, usually I preach without notes and the Great Prayer of Thanksgiving.

One of the things children love is being read to. In the 19th century, families gathered in the evening as someone read the latest installment of Dickens or someone else to them. I want to talk to one of the women about her dislike, but I don't understand. Reading is performance. Either when I read, I'm not performing, or something else is going on.

(OK, I don't like it when someone reads their power point presentation to me. I don't like reading something in front of me, except scripture. I love to slow down enough as someone reads the scripture and I soak it in with my eyes and ears, but that may be an acquired taste from lectio).

I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry

Watch this video

Why our country needs more Calvinists

I was listening to an NPR report on big-ag. A farmer explained his opposition to big-ag that once only a few companies own all the farms, then they can set prices as high as they want.

Capitalism, the most popular religion in the US, is based on greed, at least as practiced in the US. (Proponents seem to have forgotten the Scot Adam Smith's corrective statements about the community.) Unfortunately, greed, left unchecked can lead to disaster as we have just witnessed.

Calvinists have a dark view of humanity. We are all depraved creatures. Calvinists understand greed. They understand that humans, left to our own devices will run amok. We need more Calvinists reminding us that we are not perfect and that we are not God and that we do have a propensity to choose evil, and to convince ourselves that choosing evil is actually a good thing.

Calvinists also use their brains.

For a while, I had laid aside my Calvinism. I am putting back on my mantle of Calvinism. And yes, Calvinists do have a bent toward self-righteousness.

Wearing a Cross

I don't wear a cross. I find it a bit cheesy. I grew up in the south and wearing crosses was what girls from the mill hill did. It's a classist thing. Though I renounce much of my southern upbringing, there are some things that are so much of part of the marrow of my bones that it is hard to see the utter stupidity of them.

A group of clergywomen met yesterday to begin a group. We went off in a direction totally different from what I had expected, planned and hoped. But it was really good. We decided that only one of us likes our current city. And so we decided that we would witness (see, not proclaim) the holy in our city.

And I woke up with the idea that I am a bearer of the holy. I feel this when I serve the bread and tell someone as I look her in the eye: this is the bread of life. But, I can/should be a bearer of the holy in all that I do.

Then this afternoon, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I should wear a cross. Or perhaps I'll just start with my triquetra and ease in slowly.