for those who do good in the face of indifference...

in the past month, and especially recently, i've watched good people who continually fight the good fight for the most vulnerable in our nation and our world, get beat down by the scapegoat of the economy and our inability to put people first in very real ways. Not that our economic crisis isn't real - it is. But that should call us to provide MORE for our suffering brothers and sisters, not less.

In my own life, I see many people trying to pull their church towards the good, and facing more resistance than ever to these "expensive" programs. Not that I think we mean to do ill instead of good, but just that we Christians have forgotten the very thing we learned again this Sunday - Peter says, "In truth, I see that God shows no partiality." And we ALSO learn that God is love.

Anyways, it's easy to get down when people much better than myself are losing fights based not on the opposition of a hateful few, but the inaction of many and the obsession with saving money. And then I happened to look over at my bulletin board and realized that I had put up a quote for exactly these types of discouraging times. Here it is...

"And yet, and yet, the times are inexhaustibly good, solaced by the courage and hope of many. The truth rules, Christ is not forsaken. In a time of death, some men and women -- the resisters, those who work hardily for social change, those who preach and embrace the unpalatable truth -- such men and women overcome death, their lives are bathed in the light of the Resurrection, the truth has set them free. In the jaws of death, of contumely, of good and ill report, they proclaim their love of the people. We think of such men and women in the world, in our nation, in the churches, and the stone in our breast is dissolved. We take heart once more."
-Daniel Berrigan.

So, thanks to all the resisters in my life. You're what I wanna be when I grow up...

an open (and unneccesarily optimistic) letter to Portland

Dear Portland,

As you may know (and may not actually care), I am leaving this city soon. And, while I know that you lose people just about as often as you gain people, I am one of the few remaining native Portlanders in my friend group, which is relatively significant (at least to me).

So, I am leaving a will and testament of sorts, in case I do something really stupid, like I don't come back (I'm not dying or anything - I may just get stuck in the Midwest). This is a list of suggestions to make sure this place isn't just one giant coffee shop/architecture firm when I return. Or Beaverton. (No offense to the joys of Beaverton. I just don't want two of them.)

Mainly, I am writing this letter because I'm not convinced that the things that make this city great - REALLY great, not just invest-your-corporate-money-here great - are really being promoted and supported by our government, by our investment capital, or by my church.

So, in no particular order, here's my top ten list of demands (albeit gentle, suggest-y demands)


1 - Please recognize that, in addition to being louder than you might prefer or potential distractions on your morning commute, our homeless brothers and sisters are ambassadors to our community and the best indicators of the health of our city. Many of these folks have been living on our streets longer than you've been in this city! They deserve to be here, and they deserve to be housed. Please stop ignoring them. And for God's sake, don't let our government take away their services. Also, they could use another public shower and some of those space-age restrooms. Thanks.

2- Our city is super-white. I think most of us know this. But it's not ENTIRELY white. Keep this in mind, please, when people start talking about gentrification. It's a fact, but there are ways we can build coffee shops and local clothing stores that don't shut down the house painters, locksmiths, and janitorial businesses that have been there. I am telling you this, because I just realized that the gym I really, really love going to is in part responsible for the closing of a janitorial supply store on NE Alberta. I am a part of gentrification, and if you're middle/upper class and/or white in this town, you might be too. But, I think that if we create enough political will in the white community, we could do good things with our purchasing power and help keep businesses run by people of color afloat.

3- a word to my Catholic homies about community organizing. This really applies to most people, but here's the deal - I came under a lot of flack for talking about empowerment organizations this year. Protecting widows and strangers in the land is in the Bible. One of the best known facts about the early church is that they relied on communal economics AND NO ONE WAS IN NEED. No one. Because they ORGANIZED. Supporting folks in poverty who want their voices heard doesn't make me a Communist. It makes me a Christian. Most folks who opposed this are, of course, not my friends on Facebook so I am fussing to the choir. But seriously, all Portlanders, here's the deal: do you have a need for some carpentry or yard work help? Hire from the VOZ Day Labor Center. Want to know what's happening with social services in City Hall? Sidle on up to your local Street Roots vendor with a buck and find out. Hungry and find yourself downtown? Let me introduce you to Sisters of the Road Cafe - the food is awesome. Not sure about your rights as a renter? Thank goodness for the folks at Community Alliance of Tenants! Interested in meeting cool folks with and without developmental disabilities? Well, hellloooooo, L'Arche Nehalem! Portland, our nonprofit community is RAD! We have, last I checked, the most nonprofits per capita. And the above-listed groups, plus many others, bring light into our community and make us really LOOK at vulnerable groups in our community as people with skills and gifts and dignity. And if they're gone when I come back, you have no idea how angry I'll be...seriously!

4-please make Voodoo Donuts continue their vegan donut-making - it's delicious...

5-Portland, did you know we have a thriving poetry scene? Find it. Not your thing? We have actual museums. And theaters. And a ballet. AND THEY'RE NOT JUST FOR RICH PEOPLE! Check check check it out!

6-It's probably time to stop making fun of Vancouver and Gresham now. They both have farmers markets now, and they're probably what allows us to do all the gentrifying we want. But feel free to continue complaining about I-5. It sucks!

7-This 12-lane bridge to Vancouver? We're all pretty clear on the fact that it's a bad idea, right?

8-Please keep Mayor Sam Adams from going completely insane on the job, okay? (Clarification before people start stalking and killing me - I don't dislike the man and think he was one of our better Commissioners. And, first personal scandal aside, I was very excited for him to take office. But leaving aside this latest traffic mishap, I am consistently underwhelmed. Soccer stadium? Literally building a bridge? Eh. Whatever.)

9-Lower taxes in exchange for crappy schools? Not okay. Not even if you're Bill Sizemore. Oh, and if you could continue keeping Sizemore initiatives from passing, I'd be grateful!

10-At risk of showing the Facebook crowd what a ridiculous hippie I am - just take a little better care of each other, Portland. This place is wacky as hell, and there are things about it I won't miss at all (I'm looking at you, Superfund sites and torrential downpours and downtown Friday night bar crowds), but my friend Mark once wrote this poem about how you could never be truly sad if you lived on a street called Lovejoy. And I think that's how I feel about this whole town. From NE 102nd to the Pearl District (that one's hard for me) to Woodstock to OHSU, it's a place that has been wonderful to me and to people I love. And it's a city that could always be better. Not for investors, not for people in New York who constantly measure "livability" (which is a stupid word) but for US! And for people whose voices might not get heard amid the more polished, well-paid voices and our busy lives that don't allow for many interruptions, especially interruptions that make us feel selfish or guilty or sad. But we're the kid in elementary school who has amazing potential and just needs to buckle down. We need to buckle down to the work of taking care of each other and taking care of this city. So, make it happen while I'm gone and I swear I'll use the rest of my professional life to do repay you for doing that, by doing it, too...

[Edited to add: Bonus 11th request: Drink more coffee at Jim and Patty's. You loved 'em when they were the original Coffee People, and you'll love 'em now!]

Feel free to discard all these suggestions and make Portland better however you see fit. But if it sucks when I come back, trust that I will find you!

Love,
Cat Willett
Your Number One Fan

Lazarus, Come Out

claire and i have been having people over to discuss the Lenten readings for the next Sunday. It's really, really helped me to break open the Scriptures for myself, since I've been away from my faith-home for about a month. But I finally got to St. A's today and, since St. A's has been doing the Scrutiny readings, the readings have been different than the ones we've talked about during our Lenten Discussions.

But, both Gospels today talked about grief and about dying and, coming so close to the anniversary of mom's death, it's hard not to reflect on the very specific ways they might apply to me...

The regular Gospel was John 12:20-33. Jesus reflects on the hour that will come so soon, after the false climax of the triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Jesus offers me wisdom that is hard to hear:
"Whoever loves his life loses it,
and whoever hates his life in this world
will preserve it for eternal life.
Whoever serves me must follow me,
and where I am, there also will my servant be.
The Father will honor whoever serves me."

Whoever loves his life, loses it. Lord, that's tough! But it makes some crazy Heaven-sense...loving life may mean a selfish love of things and superiority and the surface. But we can love God and "hate" life and still have joy. But, still, in black and white, it is hard, hard, hard to think about - it's like Mary Poppins measuring stick - no one will fully measure up...

The Scrutiny Gospel (John 11:1-45) was tough for me today - I hadn't been to St. A's for a while and so hearing a staged reading of the story of raising Lazarus for the first time (I remember) since mom died. When Jesus is moved to tears by Mary and the mourners grief, I had some sort of felt sense of what that grief feels like - a tangible, back-of-the-throat, pit-of-the-stomach sense...

"Your brother will rise."
Martha said,
"I know he will rise,
in the resurrection on the last day."
Jesus told her,
"I am the resurrection and the life;
whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live,
and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.
Do you believe this?"
She said to him, "Yes, Lord.
I have come to believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God,
the one who is coming into the world."


The thing that strikes me in this story is how easily I become like Martha. Later, she will try to stop Jesus from opening the tomb because of the stench. She fusses around the kitchen while her sister is learning at Jesus' feet. "Yes, Lord. I have come to believe..." says Martha. She means the End Times - she doesn't hear what he's really trying to tell her. Jesus is obviously asking her to believe in him NOW - to believe he is capable of miracles in the here and now and to know that he is the Son of God and that the Creator of the Universe is listening to his Son, whose love for Lazarus will create the miracle that Martha doesn't dare to hope for... Jesus answers all her earthly concerns by saying - "Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?"

That's the hard part in both Gospels - can we believe in the glory of God long enough to put away the Martha-ness of our lives?Can we stop loving our own lives for just a minute? I find that there are longer and longer stretches of time where I just get mired in myself and my feelings. I am not honoring my mom, I am not thinking of my family, I am not focused outwardly at all. I know that's not the way that it's supposed to be. Our lives are so large and so small and so infinitely precious and complex. And, while it's not perfect, it's so much better when we can focus on the infinitely precious, sometimes hurting, always God-loved people in our lives.

The Son of Man is calling...

"Lazarus, come out!"

Come out of ourselves. Come out of what keeps us bound. Then, like Lazarus, Someone will tenderly untie our worldly bindings and let us go...

if we dug for ourselves long enough

it's a bad day when you start categorizing the happiness of others as compared to your own.
really, why is everyone else living the life you always dreamed of? and why won't they give it back?
you start to think - why do fat and brilliant drug addicts get that happiness? why do they get to raise children with big smiles and strange names? why do people in three piece suits get it? why do people who just throw it away get it? why do parents take it from their children and run? when did we get so bad at sharing love?

how can we all stand underneath the same blue sky and not try to snatch it all for ourselves? we're afforded so little in our lives that's truly ours, which makes gratitude feel like an overwhelming task. we'll never be someone's reason for living, never be loved enough to balance the account of all our pain. we've buried that part of us that resonates on the frequency of others and makes everyone's stories form something monumental - a monument to a group of people who are more than the sum of their stories.

if we dug for ourselves long enough, the power of what we'd find would threaten to overwhelm every lie we told ourselves about the small, petty nature of our lives. it's so much harder to be a bright, transcendent star than an earthbound one. so i suppose i'll learn to live, ceding my patch of sky to someone else's dreams. it's just easier that way.

A Prayer

2/1/09

God has created the earth and the stars and everyone who will ever love me.
Whatever I look for, God knew and brought into being.
And all that I've ever loved exists for all time in the One who loves first and loves best.
God's love is sacrificial joy and willing servitude,
but it is not beyond my efforts
and it is only temporarily painful,
because all that is not love will be burned away
until all that I am rightly sings God's praise
and echoes with all the voices on the endless shore.

We've picked a difficult path but don't worry-
Jesus has danced down it before us.

On Receiving

On Receiving
2/1/09

Open the door and let the still, strong thing in.
Even if you weren't expecting guests.
Even if, especially if, you feel imperfect and ashamed of the home you have made.
Do not worry.
All the cracks will be filled and your mountain of hurts be made low when you open the door and receive.

With that still, strong thing comes a holy host of the broken, with nothing left to lose, singing Hallelujah with one voice and a thousand tongues.
Do not worry that there are not enough chairs or food or love to go around.
That's not what they're here for.
All those things are provided by the God of Gifts and the Master of This House.

No, they've come for those things only you can provide -
the losses you've tallied,
the things you've neither forgiven nor forgotten,
the lies that slip easily from your mouth,
and the tears you've shed over the person you've become.
Pack up your hurts and your wounds and your broken, porcelain soul
-that's what they've come for.
After all, these are angels and you are unaware
that the only thing they want is for you to be light enough
to join them in the end.

Your Children Are Missing

your children are missing
************************
she is standing, shifting from foot to foot,
the crowd moving around her, an instantly forgettable figure.
she is not panicked yet. this is what normal kids do...which is a comfort to the parents of prodigies and heroes. normal children run off. normal children find everything more interesting than their own parents' plans. he doesn't even think of them as his family any more. he imagines he is from somewhere else, somewhere better. he tells them all the time.

try not to worry...try not to think about what might have happened.
but there are always those scenes. from the moment he was born, there were always those scenes that end with "...he is gone. and you are a bad mother." no part of that sentence is worse than the other.

she is searching more frantically now - they are supposed to be leaving. there is so much at home that needs doing. what if something happened? he's only a boy. he doesn't know how the world can swallow you up. he doesn't know how to protect himself - how to walk through the world unnoticed. he's altogether too kind - frighteningly kind. in the end, though she won't know this for years, that's what will kill him.

they searched all night and into the next day. there wasn't much else to do, and going over the same area over and over and over was preferable to stopping. if she stopped, she saw him dead. and knew she was, indeed, a very bad mother. and then, like that, it was all over. they found him. he wasn't sorry. he would do it again. and she was worried, but not like she thought she would be. because mary knew what other parents only suspect: your children are missing from the day they're born.