This may come as a surprise to no one- but I identify very strongly with Jeremiah, the Weeping Prophet of the Christian Old Testament. I feel things- suffering specifically-so very deeply I am sometimes paralyzed. A simple conversation with my husband about gender roles and careers has had me sinking into a quick sand of thousands of years of patriarchy and “this is what we do to women” in a matter of minutes. And before he knows it I am sobbing for all the women of generations past with unrealized dreams because they were unfortunately born with the wrong sex organs. I can hear a sermon with only male gendered pronouns and find myself weeping for girls being sex trafficked in countries 1,000 of miles away- the connection so clear to me it pumps through my veins and leaves me exhausted from pain.
When I was 14 years old I went to the beach with some friends from my youth group. Once unpacked, we laid our towels down on the sand and spread out, soaking up the glorious Florida sun. We laughed, passed fruit around, and talked about Jesus.
About 30 minutes in a man came up to us. He pointed up to the pier and told us that there was an old white dude taking pictures of us. When we looked in the direction he was pointing we saw the man quickly put his camera away and walk briskly in the direction of the parking lot. How long had he been there?
In April I had the opportunity of a life time – I was able to attended Trinity: The Heart of Creation put on by The Center for Action and Contemplation. Some of you may have seen my update on Instagram and Facebook about meeting Richard Rohr (I cried. A lot.). The weekend was incredible- I took over 50 pages of notes and was moved to tears countless times. It was a perfect blend of academic pursuit and spiritual quest. Below is a very short and in-comprehensive list of what resonated with me. I will return to many of these topics in future posts to flesh out the ideas and add in some of my personal thoughts. But for now, treat this as a little preview or an overview of the weekend in no particular order.