Throwing like a girl

The past two Saturdays I've exhausted myself playing in Ultimate Frisbee tournaments.  Completely sapped, I came home, scarfed down the easiest food possible (cereal) and crashed on the couch because getting all the way upstairs to the bed took too much energy. My body has been wasted but my heart has been full. 

I get irrationally happy after playing Frisbee. I love the endorphins after a run or a swim, but with Frisbee, the team aspect makes all the difference.  When we get into a flow it's especially a blast.  I feel a bit embarrassed and immature at how much I enjoy it.  At some stage, don't real grown-ups stop enjoying  sports so much?  I guess not.

Theologians would probably talk about this joy I've found in terms of embodiment.  Embodiment is just as it sounds: the human exists in and with a body.  Bodies are sources of our deepest pleasures and our most searing pain.  In our bodies we experience freedom and limitation.  Our bodies shape how we encounter the world. 

When I inhabit my body fully, I feel peace and joy and a sense of rightness.  A phrase I've grown to like is "healthy animal."  I don't think it's going too far to say that Frisbee puts me in touch with God because it puts me in touch with myself as a creature, a body.

You may be skeptical, thinking Frisbee?  Really? Yes, the name makes it hard to take it seriously as a sport much less an inspiration for theological reflection.  But yes. Many activities help us inhabit our bodies: dancing, walking, singing, the list is endless.  For me, it includes Frisbee.  And an important aspect of my sense of embodiment comes from being a body among other bodies: being on a team.

A few words about ultimate Frisbee. First, it's not Frisbee golf.  Athletically, it is about the same workout as soccer.  Teams of seven try to advance a Frisbee down a field by throwing and catching it.  You can't run with the disc.  You score when your team catches it in the end zone.

I learned to throw a Frisbee after college while in the Peace Corps and joined a recreational league in my early 20s in Minneapolis.  I felt, for the first time in my life, the unique thrill of playing a team sport.

I grew up post-Title 9.  Still, mine was in an era and micro-culture where team sports weren't exactly mainstream for girls.  I played soccer all through elementary school but by 5th grade, I was the only girl on my team.  Big suburban leagues for girls did not yet exist. I recall being extremely uncomfortable when the boys made stupid jokes about picking up the balls.

My junior high didn't have sports so when I got to high school and tried to join the girls' soccer team, I didn't have a clue.  I lacked the self-confidence it took to stick it out.  I went to exactly one practice, felt inadequate, and found physical refuge in dance instead.

My relationship with team sports didn't flourish until I discovered Ultimate Frisbee.  I loved it immediately. As I learned to play, a wonderful thing dawned on me:

When I played, I was happy.

I've played in low-key leagues on and off for the past fifteen years.  Until a brief time this spring, where I struggled to keep up with some amazing players in an all-women's league,  I had never played with all women.

My ultimate Frisbee teams have always been co-ed.

Which brings me to the inspiration for this blog: Paige Sultzbach. 

Paige Sultzbach is a 15 year old who plays 2nd base for her catholic school's baseball team. Her school didn't have a girl's softball team and she wanted to play.  So she joined the baseball team, becoming the only girl on the roster. She was a starter as a 9th grader and her team made it to the championships.

An opposing team forfeited the championship game rather than play against a team that had a girl on it. I find it so preposterous that I'm going to say that again:

An opposing team forfeited the championship game rather than play against a team that had a girl on it.


They cited pseudo-ethical reasons for the forfeit:

Teaching our boys to treat ladies with deference, we choose not to place them in an athletic competition where proper boundaries can only be respected with difficulty. Our school aims to instill in our boys a profound respect for women and girls.

What irony that a statement about respecting women and girls is used to justify exclusion, one of the basic forms of disrespect.

Most alarming to me about this story is that Paige sat out two previous games because that team had refused to play against a girl.  That's a tough position for a 15 year old to be in.

This happened just a month after Virginia Rometty, the CEO of IBM was not given a membership to Augusta Golf Club - home of the Masters for which IBM is a sponsor - because it is an all male-club.  Augusta's initial refusal to invite her threw into high relief the landscape of gender exclusivity in sports.

In an article about Paige in the Washington Post, the director of the Women's Sports Foundation, Nancy Hogshead-Makar, said:

In real life, these boys are going to be competing against the girls for jobs, for positions in graduate programs or in trade schools...In every other area of their life, they are going to be competing side by side.

Business deals happen on the golf course; the company softball team can be an important means of creating professional relationships.  When these are exclusively male, there is more than participation in sports at stake. 

Still, when I heard Paige's story, I didn't immediately think about the broad social implications of a sports team that wouldn't play against a girl.

Instead,  I thought of how happy it makes me to play Frisbee.  I hoped that baseball makes Paige that happy too.  I smiled at the joy of being a healthy animal and thought what a shame it is when anyone - male or female - doesn't have the chance to join the team.

Wendell Berry: It All Turns on Affection

On Monday, I went with two dear friends, Christy and Bob, to see Wendell Berry give the Jefferson lecture at the Kennedy Center.  Read it here. 

We listened with admiration as this hero of ours critiqued corporate America, capitalism, and agri-buisness in favor of an economic life rooted in the land and motivated by affection.

Early in the lecture, Berry divided people into two categories: Stickers and boomers. Berry implied that Boomers are the majority of Americans.  Driven by money and success, they are mobile and ambitious.  Quoting Wallace Stegner, Berry said: 

' "Boomers, he said, are “those who pillage and run,” who want “to make a killing and end up on Easy Street,” whereas stickers are “those who settle, and love the life they have made and the place they have made it in.”^{2 '}

Like much of Berry's writing, his description of Stickers stirs up in me a longing for a life that's very different than the one I am living. It's a life marked by stability, roots, farming, family and faith. It's a simple life of contentment, hard work, and connection to people and land over time. 

Berry said,

"Stickers...are motivated by affection, by such love for a place and its life that they want to preserve it and remain in it."

This is a life I've never known and I never will. I am, according to Berry, much more of a "Boomer" than a "Sticker." I live far from my family, have no connection to land, buy my food at a grocery store, shop online, and connect with the people closest to me over email, phone and skype much more often than in person.

And yet, if I need to put myself in one of these two categories, I would call myself a "sticker." 

Perhaps I am delusional to think of myself this way.

The friends I went with to the lecture are in a similar position. All three of us are Midwesterners who have made our home in the craze of Washington DC. One has spent much of the last three years researching the roots of his family. The other has a lovely suburban home decorated with momentos of the family farm that recently was sold off to an energy company.

We come together in community in part because we know that something is amiss in the "boomer" life that we've all chosen. We try to be "stickers" where we are, even though we know we can't possibly have the integrity or character of Berry's ideal.

We also know that rural life and connection to the land aren't enough to create the kind of life together that Berry describes. We know the pain of the ruined small town with its meth labs and poverty (Berry would point to those as proof of what the agribusiness economy has destroyed).

We hope, and we believe, that affection can be the primary motivation for a boomer-ish life too. And so we feed one another with good food when we can. We play music and go on walks and visit each other in the hospital. We try to love the land. We all work, in our ways, to stop climate change and protect the environment. We share a faith not only in God but also in the love of one another. We say no to the powers that try to control us.

Berry would have a lot to critique about our lives, but this much is true: In the face of a world of mobility and disconnection, true affection can still emerge as the primary motivation. Thanks to Bob and Christy, and all those friends who help me chose the alternative, the life that turns on affection.

Stewardship and faith: Rearranging like Lydia

Note: this is a copy of my April newsletter article, with minor changes.

When our youth fast for the World Vision 30 hour famine, we always have a worship service. In it, we do something to remember children who die of hunger related diseases: 1 child every 3 seconds. This year we made handprints on 300 pieces of paper, arranged like a cross. They represented the number of children who’d died in 15 minutes.

We found it so beautiful and meaningful that we kept it for worship. Then we replaced it with a cross of purple cloth which we're keeping through Lent.

When I went to the fabric store to buy a bolt of purple cloth, I was reminded of the character of Lydia found in Acts 16. She sold purple cloth. It was a precious commodity used by royalty and the upper class. Our use of purple for the cross serves as a reminder that Jesus was a different kind of king.

The women’s Bible study studied Lydia yesterday.

Lydia was converted by Paul’s preaching; “the Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.” (Acts 16:14). She was baptized along with her household and it caused her to rearrange her life. She opened up her home and coffers to support the new ministry in Philippi. Her house became ground central for the church.

Lydia’s is a stewardship story. It’s also a story about someone growing in faith. Those two things - stewardship and faith – are always related. As we are drawn into faith by God, we want to respond like Lydia: rearranging our lives to participate in God’s ministry.

Rearranging. To give an extra $25 a month to our congregation, as many of our households are doing, takes some rearranging. To spend 30 hrs fasting for world hunger takes rearranging. To make space for the cross in our worship service took some major, literal, rearranging. (Thanks to Mark for spending so much time moving chairs!).

It raises this question: what in your life - especially your faith life - has caused you to rearrange?

Grace during Lent

I have recently returned from my first trip to Arizona. I went for a conference on adult faith formation and took a few extra days to visit the Grand Canyon and Sedona.

Because I left the day after Ash Wednesday, I joked with that I was giving up work for Lent. I didn't realize until I got on the plane how much I needed a break. I have been working hard, though no harder than everyone else I know. My pastoral work keeps me busy somewhere between 45 - 55 hrs a week plus time spent reading, praying, thinking, and worrying. In Washington DC, this is a light work load. I am not complaining.

Like everyone else, I also have the regular load of personal work to keep myself afloat: attending to a variety of relationships, cleaning the house, tending the dog, maintaining hobbies, exercising regularly, managing finances, cooking healthy meals etc etc etc. My personal work is also a relatively light load. I'm not caring for children or ailing parents. I'm not struggling to make ends meet. The fact that my list includes "maintaining hobbies" reveals that my life has more playtime in it than most adults I know. I am aware that I am in a privileged class with choices over how I spend my time. I have the opportunity for things like vacations and conferences. That's not lost on me.

Still, I have been working too hard. It took the spiritual nurture of loving people at the conference and the vastness of the Arizona landscape to drive that point home. For example: I wrestled with myself as I hiked down the Grand Canyon because I felt like I wasn't hiking fast enough. I kept making goals (I'll get to that water source by 1) and had to remind myself that I wasn't on a schedule and didn't need to invent stress.

In a reflection for Sojourners magazine, Cathleen Falsani put into words exactly what I had been feeling about a Lenten practice. She talked about a lecture by Eugene Peterson that convinced her to give up working so hard. She writes:

Providence has a great sense of timing — one that’s oriented by kairos not chronos. My time with Peterson fell during the first full week of Lent.

Before Ash Wednesday I already had determined not to do the usual thing _ give something tangible up: chocolate, caffeine, wine, fried food, etc. I decided instead to forgo saying negative things about my appearance out loud. I thought that would be healthy, helpful, a meaningful practice to honor God’s creation (me) and the Creator.

It lasted about 36 hours. I determined to start again. And again and again and again, if necessary.

...I stopped trying. I stopped, full stop. For Lent, I am doing nothing. I am just going to be. Feel the rhythms of grace and let God do the doing

Read her beautiful, wise reflections here.

Last night, friends came over for dinner. Embracing the "stop working" attitude, I spent some time with my dog and chatting with parishioners instead of cleaning the house. The meal was late. I had to ask my friend to cook the fish because I didn't get my act together in time to find a good recipe. I went to bed with a sink full of dirty dishes. No surprise, we had a wonderful time. And this morning, God is still turning the world around.

Of course, I don't plan to actually stop working. I did get up and do the dishes in the morning, and I will keep working at the profession that I truly love, invest in my relationships, walk my dog.

But, I have tried to implement a different attitude toward my work - all my work - as part of a Lent. I am trying to spend more time listening and noticing and less time planning and worrying.

My time in the Grand Canyon got good when I let go of my need for a schedule and just absorbed the beauty all around me. I'm pretty sure that though I'm back home, there's no less beauty and no less grace.

Maybe the apple store workers could do a training for our church?

Hi - I'm at the apple store in the Montgomery Mall waiting for a new phone. My phone speaker hasn't been working right since the day I got it and I finally realized I should get a new one. The friendly people are in the process of replacing it.

This place is hopping. Who knew this many people are in the Apple Store om a Thursday morning? Judging by the sea of blue shirts, it looks like over half the people here work here. I was helped by a nice woman but my problem wasn't resolved as quickly as she'd hoped. She passed me off to someone else because she had to go to a training session. That's right, a training session. She was professional and friendly. Communicated exactly what I needed. When she handed me off, the new person also greeted me with warmth and invited me to come over and work near him so he could keep an eye on me.

Back at church, we're in the process of envisioning our new space and we're always trying to figure out how to be more genuinely welcoming, how to connect with people appropriately and lovingly. We have a lot to learn from these Apple folks, including that they have training sessions to make sure they know their stuff. Yes, I know, I know that selling computers is different from welcoming people to church. I know that there's a message that the Apple folks need to convey without any deviations and there's probably disgruntlement among the ranks. Sill, I admire the energy in here. I am impressed by the friendly professionalism.

And there are so many people in here. If my phone worked, I'd take a picture. Everyone is in this store because they know what they want and they know where to find it. Some are just looking; some have appointments; some have very specific hopes for what they'll find.

I have a feeling it would be easier for most people in the world to explain why someone would get up on a Thursday morning and get to the Apple Store than it would to explain why someone would get up on a Sunday morning and go to church. hmmmm......

oh - My time is up - I'm going to get the help I came for. Peace and joy -

note: I added the photo afterward - I didn't take it.

Book Review: Nature as Spiritual Practice - by Steven Chase

Hi all - I wrote a book review of Nature as Spiritual Practice by Steven Chase for the Presbyterian Outlook. Copying the review here too.

Monday, 09 January 2012 04:09

Nature as Spiritual Practice by Steven Chase Grand Rapids, Mich.: Wm. B. Eerdmanns. 286 pages reviewed by SARAH SCHERSCHLIGT On a morning walk, I caught sight of a bird circling over a pond. I was awestruck to witness it plummet into the pond and emerge with a catch. My awe quickly turned to horror as I realized that the catch of the day was a red plastic cup, stuck on its feet. The bird was clearly in distress as it flew away low to the ground, crying. I said a prayer of lament for the polluted pond and asked God to help the bird shake free. I am a nature lover. In this instance, however, the spiritual connection I felt to that bird was stronger than normal. It’s no coincidence that I was reading Steven Chase’s “Nature as Spiritual Practice.” He is convinced (and he convinces) that relationship with nature nurtured through spiritual practice can interrupt the downward cycle of ecological destruction. Chase connects the recent reemphasis on Christian practices with the ecological crisis unique to our time. By describing specific practices, Chase invites the reader through cycles of contemplation and action: “Nature as practice shapes attention and wonder; it also shapes activism.” Culling sources ranging from the Desert Fathers to Julian of Norwich to Paul in Romans to Paul Tillich, he teases out creation-oriented themes, creating an overall fabric for appreciating nature as an integral part of our spiritual heritage. The wealth of quotes and references is worth the price of the book. Chase knows Scripture and is clearly rooted in Christian sources, but he downplays the specificity of the Christian tradition, often using terms like “divine” instead of God. This creates a possibility for dialogue between contemplative aspects of many religions, especially between Buddhism and Christianity. It also creates the opportunity to connect with people who find God in nature but not in church. The title itself underscores the approach; nature is spiritual practice. Thus a heron not only teaches us about prayer, it prays; a tree not only teaches us to listen, it listens. Moreover, nature is more than a metaphor or a model for human spirituality; it has a spiritual life of its own. I wrestled with this approach because of the inherent anthropomorphism (how does a tree listen without ears?). Ultimately, however, Chase’s approach leads to a deeper respect for nature’s spirituality and the inherent good of the natural world. A field guide with 64 practices accompanies the main book. When attempting these practices, I found that I needed to interrupt the practice in order to keep referencing the field guide. It would take some, uh, practice, to use the field guide smoothly, but that’s part of the point. Chase intends readers to become acquainted with the field guide over regular use and to grow in their spiritual practice. Chase has included well-designed sample retreats for leaders. These are a bonus and a gift to those interested in spiritual retreats. Rarely is a set of books so theologically rich also so practical. For anyone concerned with how people can connect with nature to change the way we relate to this precious world, “Nature as Spiritual Practice” is a uniquely valuable resource.

Follow-up from last Sunday - Stop and hear the music

Hi all - last Sunday I used a few video/visual elements in church. I'm thankful for people like Gordon who take time to make things work! We had no tech problems - a wonderful feat given the fact that this was our first attempt. Aaron did an amazing job with the visual offertory. When we have it linked to the music I'll post it.

The bulk of my sermon centered on this clip from a concert that violinist Joshua Bell gave in a DC metro station a few years ago during rush hour. This article gave background information




I drew a metaphor between Bell showing up in an unexpected place/time to give a free, beautiful concert and God, showing up in unexpected places/times to give us peace, joy, inspiration and love.

I noted that in contrast to the obviousness of the Angel Gabriel's visit to Mary, most of us, most of the time, encounter God in less direct ways. God comes to us more like a busker in the metro than an angel who tells us our future.

Key points:
5) God's presence sometimes captures people's attention by surprise (one man who had never appreciated classical music found himself transformed by just 3 minutes of listening).
4) God's presence is often ignored (most people (over 1000) passed by without pausing. Understandably, they all had to get to work and they didn't know they were in the presence of greatness).
3) When people start to notice God's presence, they inspire others. (One woman stopped because she recognized Bell. As she stood and watched, others naturally joined).

I first heard of this Bell concert at a conference. The speaker used it to point out that people no longer know how to recognize beauty. While that might be true, it strikes me as an unfair judgment. I think most people are just busy and stressed and too tired to notice the grace all around. We're a people in need of sabbath. So here are two final points:

2) Even in the craze of the days before Christmas, you do have time to stop and rest in God's presence.
1) Even if you don't take time to stop or notice, God is still there, playing on.

Wishing you peace and joy and a moment of obvious grace in these last days of Advent
- Pr Sarah