Apparently, social justice is just socialism.

I take great pride in my alma mater, California Lutheran University. Being a CLU student was one of the best things that ever happened to me. At CLU, I found a community committed to that which I was committed -- love of neighbor, social justice, economic justice, ecumenical and interreligious dialogue, higher education, among many many other things. Hilariously, the article I am about to link to was written by another CLU alum, who feels a bit differently about a few of those things. Read it and laugh.

Is CLU heading too far to the Left?

Seriously, though -- if I was going to write a parody about what conservatives think about social justice, I couldn't even write something this good. It's comedic gold. My favorite part is the end, where he writes, "All the warning signs are there. Economic Justice. Social Justice. Sanctuary. CLU is entering the waters of the loony Left, and seems to be trying very hard to be the religious equivalent of Berkeley." Hilariously enough, I went to CLU, and now I live in Berkeley. No wonder I love both so much. I had no idea that my socialism was a product of being a CLU student. 


Bahahahaha the internet is a beautiful place for crazy people [I don't exclude myself in this] to get to say whatever they want about whatever they want. Eric Ingemunson, you are hilarious.

We'll take it from here.

REL-100, Intro to Christianity, was just about the least interesting class I had in my undergraduate career. Why? Because the culture of CLU perpetuates it as such. I waltzed into that classroom my first day of classes at CLU and didn't even give it a chance. In particular, I didn't give my professor a chance. He was old and his powerpoints had animations and sounds. That was enough for me. I trucked through that class paying little attention and maybe even missing a few (I know you can hardly believe that). I think it was at 8am or something, as all boring classes inevitably are.

Once that class ended, I gave little thought to that professor, if only to make sure to not register for his section of a different class. But as I continued in the Religion department and spent time with professors in discussion outside of the classroom, I found that this man was interesting. I heard that he'd been a bishop in the ELCA and that he'd ordained gay pastors when it was NOT the thing to do. I heard that he resigned from being bishop because of this, and in order to fight harder for the rights of LGBT clergy. I googled him, and found that he was a pioneer in the liberal ELCA. I learned much more from this man than my REL-100 experience would have you believe.

This man's name was Rev. Dr. Paul Egertson, and he died today.

He was a progressive voice in a generation that would not hear him. As the generation that has heard him, it is our responsibility to go forth into the ELCA that he has helped to shape, and to continue to fight along the lines he laid down. I am proud to have been a student of his, and to be joining the ranks of ordained clergy in the ELCA, in order to effect the same kind of change.

Rest in peace, Dr. Egertson. We'll take it from here.

Thanks, Rachel (and Mary Oliver).

The best thing I've learned from my new friend Rachel is to love the poetry of Mary Oliver. I spent the better part of this morning reading a bunch of poetry and meditation-related things online (for Jonathan's winter retreat) and kept returning to her. I posted "Wild Geese" a while back (that I'd discovered on Maria's facebook) and then we used "The Swan" in meditation last semester. So here's "The Swan" and "On Praying" -- poems I'm definitely bringing on this retreat.

On praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just

pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try

to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

The Swan
Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?

Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air
An armful of white blossoms,

A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned

into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?

Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall

Knifing down the black ledges?

And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet

Like black leaves, its wings
Like the stretching light of the river?

And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?

And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?

And have you changed your life?