What freedom feels like

After the fireworks, this is the route
we took home to escape the crowds.

Not to bore you with another spectacular bike ride story, but sheesh, talk about an extrasensory experience. We left at dusk on July 3 and required tweenboy to join us, at his great disappointment.

We three rode through the woods and when we entered downtown ran smack into the full moon, an over-sized golden circle rising above the tree tops into the blue twilight sky. As we whizzed past people lined up to watch the fireworks I kept shouting out, look behind you! full moon! like a biker dork on parade. 

Arriving at our favorite destination these days, Mullets, we ordered two beers and one soda pop. We mingled among the multitudes who showed up with their blankets, lawn chairs, strollers, and wagons to wait for the show to start. Fireworks over the city were a hit. I'll agree with my friend Anne who says that Des Moines's skyline "is the cutest." The fireworks were spectacular. Everyone clapped. 

We escaped the traffic clog on our bikes, riding back through the Gray's Lake bridge path (photo), lit up in neon. People in canoes were scattered about the dark water. One canoe was setting off these miniature hot air balloon thingies. Yes, fire and all. Riding back home through the woods, it was pitch black except for two of us had headlights, lighting the way for all three of us. Plus, we could see rogue fireworks bursting all around us. Besides that, it was total darkness, the moonlight did not reach the path. Still, we hummed along at a pretty good speed. It's amazing how many other bikers were out too. All we could hear, though, were the ear splitting sounds of crickets, frogs, and nighttime critters. It was still about 90 degrees and when we arrived at our trail head, a soccer field. Sweat and salt dripped down my face. A huge sprinkler was on, inviting us to stand in it's spray. We did.

It was all ridiculously joyful. Tweenboy said he liked it all except for the bike riding part. Bob decided our bikes were a good investment.

I concluded, this is what freedom feels like. Made possible in part thanks to one paid day-off from work, a great city, a bike-obsessed husband, and a hilarious son.

Happy 4th of July to you all!

Psychosomatic or just plain psycho

Water Fire events are held
in summer on the canals in
Providence, Rhode Island.
I've only seen it in pictures and TV.

"Where you came from is gone. Where you thought you were going to never was there. And where you are is no good unless you can get away from it." Flannery O'Connor

For almost all of our 15 years together, my daughter and I have shared a love for the word Providence.

We love the place. A city in Rhode Island that we've only driven through twice, when she was one year old, to and from a Cape Cod vacation she hated. She cried sleepless in our beach side rental nearly the whole week, driving me and Bob insane for the constant screeching and the frittered thousand dollar investment.

We love the old television series, set in the city of Providence. About a beautiful yet big-hearted family physician, her quirky sister, and their many collective boyfriends. (Our favorite boyfriend was good guy firefighter, Burt, played by the actor would go on to play the role of Mad Men's Don Draper.)

And we love the theme song of the television show, the sweet but haunting tune, In My Life, by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. The lyrics start, "There are places I remember, all my life though some have changed. Some forever not for better. Some have gone and some remain."

While we love the Beatles rendition the best, the song has been covered many times. I like Bette Midler's version in the movie For the Boys. We adore the Providence show's version as recorded by Chantal Kreviazuk. When we watch the DVD's of Providence (sadly, which don't include all the episodes) my daughter will queue Kreviazuk's version on her iPod and we listen through shared ear buds through the opening credits because for some reason the DVD version doesn't include the original theme song and we can't stand the song they inserted as a replacement.

Apparently Ozzy Osborne, Johnny Cash, and the cast of Glee have also covered the song, but I haven't heard them yet.

Providence is defined by the Merriam - Webster dictionary as "divine guidance or care." According to this source the word is often capitalized, as if it's a proper noun. Providence. I often wonder if that's the reason we like the show and the song, because we like the word and what it could mean. Although I honestly don't know how a three year old could possibly consider "divine guidance or care." That was the age of my daughter when we started to love the word, Providence.

But what do I know about little children and what do I know about divine guidance?

When I think about all the tender times of intimacy with my daughter, I also think about the postpartum depression that came after she was born. Now, well over 15 years later, I think about it more than ever. Postpartum depression is defined by the Mayo Clinic as this: "Many new moms experience the baby blues after childbirth, which commonly include mood swings and crying spells and fade quickly. But some new moms experience a more sever, long-lasting form of depression known as postpartum depression. Rarely, an extreme form of postpartum depression known as postpartum psychosis develops after childbirth."

I wanted a child yet I remember bursting into sobs in the shower just after we got home from the hospital. Baby sleeping in next room, I stepped into the bathtub and a rush of reality crashed into me. How drastically my body had changed. How dramatically my daily routine had changed. How little control I had over my own destiny.

In those same early days I would look down into the bassinet and see my baby as an object, not as a human, but as a strange appendage of myself that I felt needed to be removed, like a cyst or a tumor. "But it can't be removed," I remember telling myself in a most methodical thought pattern, "because it's illegal to remove it." It was incredible to me that something that I had created, that I had spawned, was also a resident of the state. That the an outside rule of law had any kind of say over this thing that I myself had created. And that I, indeed, did not have the right to do whatever I felt was best, even if it was to get rid of it. It was like saying my little finger had a bill of rights, when I should be able to treat my little finger in a way that was best for it and me. I think for a short time, my postpartum depression was probably bordering on psychopathic thinking. When you're all out of whack it's hard to control your mind.


Whenever I hear those stories of babies abandoned in garbage dumpsters or killed in public bathrooms, my heart aches and I wish there was some way I could reach out to the mothers. And I can't believe a first stop for these traumatized young girls is often jail. They need to be wrapped up in love and care and treatment. 

So here I am 15 years later, postpartum depression gone, Providence prevailing, and my body is all full of hives. I think. There are itchy red bumps on my legs and arms and I can't figure out what's going on. It comes and goes so I can still go to work and function through the day. But my skin looks like a newly plucked chicken, red dots on pink. Did I eat something bad? Is it an allergic reaction? Is my liver quitting? What?

Benadryl didn't even make a dent in the rash so I'm steering towards natural solutions. I'm applying and  ingesting vitamin E and it's helping. But I don't have any solid reasons why this rash except for one possible theory: about ten days ago my daughter got on an airplane and flew to New York City to be with my in laws for three weeks. It's not that big of a deal, good grief she flew alone when she was ten years old. She's in good hands. She's getting treated like a queen. It's her summer vacation. She's almost 16 years old. I'm working and I'm tired and I need a break from driving her to and fro. This circumstance doesn't seem hard to understand.

Yet these red bumps appeared about the same time she left. Psychosomatic rash? Super late recurrance of postpartum depression? Repressed anxiety? Stupidity?

I've had this saying for a long time that when I'm home, I want to leave. And when I leave, I want to return home. In other words, when I'm with my kids, I want order. And when I have order, I miss my kids. Why is it that I must choose? Why can't I have both?

As usual, I don't have a good way to end this post so I'll lean on John Lennon and Paul McCartney:

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more.

I'm praying for deepest, richest, widest, and biggest dose of "divine guidance or care" for you all, for all you love, and for all you can't understand. And hoping these psycho red dots go away. Wishing I could be present, here and now.

Peace and joy, T

I'm Published!

God could use someone like you. 

That was the official slogan used by Luther Seminary to recruit new students. But when we were there, I liked the satirical slogan better:

God could confuse someone like you.

It was written by student editors of the seminary newspaper, our neighbors and friends, who also came up with a whole separate slapstick issue the school newspaper, poking fun at all sorts of things, reminding us all that if we took this God-stuff with too much solemnness, we're pretty much doomed. Think John Stewart does the seminary newsletter. Both real and satirical issues of the newsletter came out monthly but in all seriousness, the satirical version seemed to speak more profoundly.


I was reminded of this when yesterday I read of the essays in this new book that just came out, a book that I feel so very privileged to be a part of. . .READ MORE 

Holding infinity

If you haven't already figured it out, I am now part of the Steve Jobs revolution. I am connected to the entire world simply by the devise I hold in the palm of my hand. I can access a zillion apps, many for free, because I pay a monthly sum of money. And the best thing is, I have live-in tech support (two teenagers) to show me how to use it and answer my questions.

I own an iPhone.

I put a very bright yellow protective case around it so I can find it in the bowels of my purse.

Three guesses on which app I got first: NPR. Yes, now I can listen to all my favorite news programs on demand while I walk or clean or eat pizza. As if listening all day wasn't enough. Actually with my new job where I really am writing, I can't listen to it lest my brain explode, so I crave it even more at night. Last night I did my laundry while listening to my all time best radio crush, Tom Ashbrook.

The other day I had 20 minutes to spend before picking up girl child from competitive cheer and so I pulled up Damien Rice's "The Blower's Daughter" and went for a walk. That song has been in my head because the kids are all listening to a song by Jason Mraz that is OK, but it seems to need to the same kind of climatic rise that Blower's Daughter does. It does not, and it disappoints me. On the way home I made girl child listen to Blower's Daughter (yep, hooking up my new toy to my car thingie) to try to explain this to her. I told her to pay special attention to the cello. She was kind enough to act interested.

My writing lately has focused on teenage unemployment, at-risk children, domestic violence, teen suicide, and gay bullying. That's what happens when you write for a nonprofit organization and a church magazine. If I had more time, I'd tell you about my projects because I am grateful for all. My only lament is the fact that I really don't know when I'll be able to get back to that liver book. I've decided that maybe now is not the time, since I enjoy sleeping so much. Anyway, in the meantime, I have my silly little hand-held toy.

Next lesson from my children: how to use my voice mail. Gotta go, it's time to set up today's NPR play list and get on my weekend.

Thanks for coming over to the Charmer blog!

With love, T

Glad you came

me and my very own ragamuffins

When you live in a mid-size city with teenagers you drive a lot. Because the city is too small for robust public transportation. And the city is too big to walk or bike to the all the daily places you need to go.

You spend a lot of time in the car.

We have a system. On the way "there" (where ever there is) girl child sits in the front seat. On the way back (from there) boy child sits in the front seat. It's the genius plan the ragamuffins came up with to solve the endless fighting about who gets the front seat. You can't imagine what a big deal this is.

As we spend so much time in four-wheeled transit to and fro, mostly I make our trio of humanity listen to a steady flow of nonstop public radio. You know, those calming voices of war and strife. I give a thousand thanks for Iowa Public Radio. But every once in a while I let the front seat designee choose the music and sometimes I like it.

Our song du jour is a peppy tune that's easy to dance to, if not for sitting in a square box, put out by a British boy band, apparently. It's called "Glad you came." It's just a nice song.

"I think this would be a great funeral song," I say to the kids. "You know, like a celebration, like everyone's glad this person existed. I want this for my funeral."

"What a great idea, mom!" they said. No they didn't. They pretty much didn't say anything. I was talking to myself.

"No, actually, this would be a great birthing song, you know, celebrating a new life that has come into the world," I say. "Get it? I'm glad you came."

"Yeah, mom, I love that idea!" the kids say in unison. Just kidding, they didn't really say that.

Boy child actually had ear buds in so he didn't hear a word I said. Girl child shares my fondness for this song, but I'm sure she's not associating it with transitioning from the before and to the after. I'm pretty sure the boy band doesn't mean that either. Still, it's nice. Reminds me that I'm glad my kids are here, and to be perfectly honest I wouldn't have always said that. There were many times I wouldn't have said that. And even these days, when it seems that every second is sucked into getting them here and there, I'm not always sure.

But for a few minutes, when we blast this song on the Pioneer system in my new little car, I believe it a lot. We especially like the Glee version of the song (as we often do).

Sending this with lots of love, this mother's day, to all of you who care for children, who contribute to children's charities, who help with the care of children, who teach children, who give us jobs so we can support our children, who befriend me so I don't strangle my children, who advocate for women's health so we don't die from bearing children. Yup, it takes a village. Sending a special shout out to my mom, Diane Mork, and to all the people who do the same for her. I'm glad you came.

Enjoy this 2 minutes and 45 seconds of happiness. . .

Thanks again

Thanks to everyone for participating in the Religion & Media blog tour with Dr. Mary Hess last Friday. Your questions and comments were fascinating! If you were a lurker, I thank you too. For a simple wrap up, I want to offer these links:

Mary Hess' blog, Tensegrities.

The blog tour continues this week with Mark Vitalis Hoffman, Associate Professor of Biblical studies at Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. Of course you are all welcome and encouraged to participate or track the conversation.

If you missed the day Mary Hess stopped by The Snake Charmer's Wife, you can still check out the discussion. Comments are always welcome. Click here, scroll to bottom, click the word "comments."

And finally, you may wish to consider the new degree program, an M.A. with an emphasis in Media & Religion, a partnership between Luther Seminary and Gettysburg Seminary, core faculty including Mary Hess. (I find this so tempting, but I should probably wait a while before putting my family through another degree program.) But I encourage YOU to check this out! It looks like students can work online and intensive (which was the design of my MFA program). Think about it.

Cheers!

Let the discussion begin

For the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg Blog Tour on Religion & Media, Dr. Mary Hess responds to questions posed by The Snake Charmer's Wife. Please add your voice to the conversation! Click on the word “COMMENTS” at the very bottom of this post. And see the specific question Dr. Hess would like to hear from you about at the end of this post. On Friday, she will respond to your comments. Facebook me or send me an email if you have questions: terrispeirs@yahoo.com.


Check out Mary Hess's blog, Tensegrities.

(1) How can churches protect and encourage GBLTQ youth?In Iowa, we just buried another young man who committed suicide because of bullying after he came out gay. This boy happened to be a member of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the denomination I share with many SCW readers (though not all). Many people in my congregation, St. John's Lutheran Church in Des Moines, are concerned for the spiritual and physical protection of GBLTQ youth. What are your recommendations for steps churches can take in keeping these kids safe and loved, especially in the face of hate messages from other Christian sources?

Mary Hess:
This is such a crucial question! Some of the best things churches can do have to do with being active in digital environments already. So, proactively being present in facebook means that church members can keep their ears open for people who seem to be crying out for affirmation and support, and church members can be wise voices that stand up and squash bullying.

We need to reach out and create safe spaces for youth, in particular, and many youth aren't ready to come anywhere near a church. So reaching out in digital environments is really crucial, as is supporting efforts by more "secular' organizations.

I also think that churches can be much more effective than in the past, at connecting people to good resources. I like the "Believe Out Loud" site, for instance (http://www.believeoutloud.com/), and I love some of the videos that were made as part of the "It gets better" project (http://www.itgetsbetter.org/).

There are also resources that are not focused so much on religious themes, but education about GLBTQ issues more generally. I think the GLSEN is awesome (http://www.glsen.org/cgi-bin/iowa/all/home/index.html), for instance.

I think it's also crucial to remember that for every person who is willing to come out, there are many more who are still too afraid. So the basic messages inside your church -- the things you say when you think there are no GLBTQ people around -- are even more important. Are you respectful of people's integrity at all times? Are you building spaces in which everyone is able to be fully themselves? Are you supporting listening spaces where people can experience what it is to listen for understanding? (I love the Public Conversations Project resources, for instance: http://www.publicconversations.org/)

Here, by the way, is one of my favorite prayers on this topic: http://www.religioused.org/tensegrities/archives/5914

(2) What do you make of theYouTube video: "Why I hate religion but love Jesus"?A young man, Jefferson Bethke, created this video arguing that "Jesus and religion are on opposite spectrums," when people don't practice what they preach. The video, titled "Why I Hate Religion But Love Jesus," had already surpassed 2 million views just two days after it was posted on Jan. 10. And the controversial topic generated an onslaught of more than 30,000 conflicting reactions in the video's comments section, according to the Huffington Post. What's the take-away for faith communities?

Mary Hess:
I thought that video -- and the phenomenon that grew around it -- was fascinating! Clearly Bethke struck a chord which resonated across the net. I don't know how many -- but clearly in the hundreds -- video responses were created and posted. I remember thinking, when I first saw it, that it was such a Protestant lament. And sure enough, several days later there was an explicitly Catholic response posted (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru_tC4fv6FE&feature=youtu.be <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru_tC4fv6FE&feature=youtu.be>). But even that response didn't really resonate with me. I would have preferred one in which a diverse community of people gathered in the midst of social justice work to talk about how they love Jesus and how religion has helped them to embody that love.

I think one big take-away has to do with recognizing resonance, and then building on it. In other words, rather than trying to"manufacture" interest in something, keep your ears and eyes and heart open, and be willing to share what you're thinking and feeling. We need to help our church members learn how to create and produce digital stories (resources here: http://www.storyingfaith.org/). That means, among other things, helping church members to learn their own stories -- not simply their own individual stories, but also the stories of our faith community, and our God stories. We need to delve into the Bible, and into our traditions, and see what lives there, and what we need to bring new life to.

One of my more favorite recent books is Elizabeth Drescher's lovely little meditation "Tweet if you [heart] Jesus" -- which talks about "practicing church in the digital reformation." We need to become much more adept at doing this!

(3) Tied up in these two questions is a conversation around why the dominant voice of Christianity seems to be such an extremest one. Is this just my perception? How can we put out there the loving/welcoming face of the church as opposed to "Do as we say or you're going to hell"? (This question comes with thanks  from Maryce Ramsey, Washington DC)

Mary Hess:
It's not just your perception, but I think it's a perception that is tied to popular news media. And that, in turn, has to do with certain kinds of 24/7 television news media. Fewer and fewer news organizations have the ability to actually investigate news, and they rely more and more on pre-produced, or spontaneously-produced (ie. talking head commentators), content. Thus the arrival of the bloviating opinionator – whose only cost is their salary, and whose “stickiness” (in terms of the length of time eyeballs remain on them) is often tied to their ability to produce “jolts” of adrenaline.

One reason why our news media are so full of disasters (or concerns about anticipated disasters) is that such stories are a routine source of adrenaline production. What is an alternative? Well, we know that individuals “shouting” can produce “stickiness,” but so can humor – and humor often provides for more complex engagement. Witness the ways in which The Daily Show with Jon Stewart covers religion.

Frankly, I think the messages of the mainline church are often more complex and ambiguous than the 15 second soundbites that typical “news” programs allow. I think we do better in the long run by cultivating relationships with the writers of television shows that have long narrative arcs. In those series – and here I think about shows like The West Wing, Battlestar Galactica, The Simpsons and so on – in these shows we have more opportunity to encounter representations of religion in all of its complex messiness in the midst of relationships, and to show the context in which mainline churches operate.

But beyond that strategy – which is long term, and requires thoughtful cultivation of relationship with writers – we ought to be putting out our own stories via digital media. This blog is a good example of how you’re connecting with a wide variety of pastoral leaders who are sharing the good news – both of Jesus Christ, and of the mainline church, in all sorts of ways.

(4) I've been thinking about the intersection of religion and media in terms of the "religious right" and the "religious left." Radio and television helped give rise to the religious right. In today's media landscape, younger people--who are wary of religious institutions and generally regarded as more liberal in their religious beliefs ("left")--are more likely to lean toward new media technologies and have those influence or reinforce what they think and believe. So is being on the religious left or right becoming increasingly influenced by how one engages various media, and therefore, is there a generational divide, and will that divide increase or decrease over time? (This question comes with thanks from Deb Bogaert, Virginia)

Mary Hess:
I don't think it's about the religious right or left so much as it is about differing practices with regard to media.

The example I find myself using most often to talk about this has to do with how Christian churches dealt with the advent of television, at least in the United States. Christian churches tended to respond in one of two ways. Either they were deeply excited about the possibilities for using television to spread the gospel widely, or they were deeply worried about the ways in which television content was damaging and potentially destructive of Christian faith.

At first glance those two positions might seem very different from each other. But if you think about it, both pretty much assume that the creator of the content controls its meaning. In the first instance Christians saw television as a way to pipe their content to many more people over a much wider area. In the second, Christians saw television as piping negative content directly into people's homes. Television was the "pipeline" through which content was poured, and the person receiving the content was considered to be a pretty passive recipient of that content. So more conservative evangelical churches helped to create the entire Christian broadcasting and publishing world, and more liberal Protestant churches focused on media literacy education, which was going to somehow "inoculate" people against negative content.

Frankly, I don't think either approach was all that successful in the long run. What we've learned, instead, is that media -- whether television, film, digital media, etc. -- are environments in which meaning is made, and the producer of a message does not control its reception. Media literacy educators learned, for instance, that far from "inoculating" people against negative content, we tended to inoculate them against religious community -- because people didn't want to 'give up' the television they loved, and were far more willing to turn their backs on religious community.

So a thoughtful approach to media today takes very seriously the "agency" of the audience. Scholars of digital media speak about "participatory culture" -- by which they mean that consumers of media are very often the producers of it as well. Spaces such as YouTube, Spotify, flickr, facebook, and so on are the focus of more and more of our attention.

I believe that Christian communities -- indeed, any religious communities -- need to venture into these spaces and reflect on how religious meaning is made there. Rather than boycotting them -- which is something many Christian communities have suggested that we do (a stance which reminds me of early media literacy educators) -- or entering into them entirely uncritically (a stance which reminds me of Christian broadcasting) -- we need to support people in learning how to produce their own messages in these media, and in doing so learn how to be critically engaged with them (which is actually the stance of current media educators). (See, for instance, NAMLE: http://namle.net/).

And a question from Mary Hess to you:
Where do you find yourself most theologically engaged these days? What are you doing or reading or singing or listening to or watching that gets you thinking about God or reflecting on your faith?

Thanks! To comment or ask more questions, just click "comments" below.