Habemus Papam!

We have a pope!

Pope Francis I, in fact. In his native Argentina, he'll be spoken of as Papa Francisco. What's cool about that sentence is that the artist formerly known as Cardinal Bergoglio is from Argentina -- the first pope from the Americas! Admittedly, he's the son of Italian immigrants and so is not exactly a stretch from the usual, ethnically, but we'll take what we can get! He's also the first Jesuit pope! I love Jesuits!

So far, my favorite thing about him is that, while he served as the Archbishop of Buenos Aires, he did not ride in his limousine but rather took public transportation. And he said this:

"Jesus teaches us another way: Go out. Go out and share your testimony, go out and interact with your brothers, go out and share, go out and ask. Become the Word in body as well as spirit," Cardinal Bergoglio told Argentina's priests last year. "In our ecclesiastical region there are priests who don't baptize the children of single mothers because they weren't conceived in the sanctity of marriage. These are today's hypocrites. Those who clericalize the Church. Those who separate the people of God from salvation. And this poor girl who, rather than returning the child to sender, had the courage to carry it into the world, must wander from parish to parish so that it's baptized!"

That's certainly unusual. 

I am torn between my unbridled idealism that says we're in for a new era of the papacy and my knowledge of history that says a whole lotta otherwise. 

Yes, he is outspokenly against the liberation of women and of our LGBTQ brothers and sisters--this cannot be denied or overlooked. But since he has even one drop of liberation theology in his blood, I believe we're in for a treat, y'all. I can't really explain why I feel so good about him. I heard the announcement in Latin on NPR and could not control my tears. I had never heard his name (he was not on any pundit radars, which is another reason why he rules so hard) and so had now way of knowing that he was going to be pretty rad, as far as cardinals go.

There's something at work here (Holy Spirit, blah blah blah) that has allowed this relatively unlikely man to hold the seat of Peter (a total goofball of a disciple, when you think about it) and suddenly be the shepherd of 1.2 billion Catholics around the globe.

What's a major bummer is that a bunch of people I love and respect are running their mouths all over the internet about how it doesn't matter that there's a new pope because the church is a "joke" (expletive deleted), and that there cannot be progress because "all priests are child rapists." I'm pretty disgusted by that claim and that attitude in general. Doing what you believe to be the work of Jesus in the world is never easy, and humans do terrible things. I would not ever apologize for the crimes against humanity that have been committed by an as-yet-unknown number of priests. But to assert that there has never been any good work done in the name of Jesus is so deeply offensive to me. 

This pope has important work to do. (All popes have important work to do.) This pope has to step out in front of an unprecedented scandal and put it right. Simultaneously, this pope has to reform the largest institution on the planet. There are a lot of people to pray for and a lot of oppressed to liberate and a lot of children to raise and a lot of masses to celebrate and a lot of sermons to preach and a lot of beautiful vestments to wear...and, frankly, I'm glad he's the one in the red velvet slippers, now. 

Whatever way you stack it, this is a historic day, and I hereby refuse to apologize for my excitement.

"Preach it, sister," I am bold to say.

My dearest ELCA, thank you. Thank you that I am not only allowed but encouraged to speak, preach, teach, and lead in whatever situation I find myself. Thank you for giving me a scholarship to attend seminary, to follow this dream I have of making a difference in the church and in the world. Thank you for all the amazingly powerful female classmates with whom I share in this awesome experience.

Sure, we haven't always been allowed. Sure, some parishes still won't call us. But as a national body we have declared -- more than a generation ago, now -- that women are called to this vocation and should be given equal opportunity to serve the people of God. We as a national body have declared that the voices of women are welcome in the pulpit, in the classroom, and in the boardroom.

Today, I eavesdropped on a conversation between two women studying at an evangelical seminary that does not afford them the same. They are free to pursue degrees in things like "discipleship" and "Christian education" -- they'll be leaders of women's groups and Sunday school -- honorable, necessary, faithful work -- but they are relegated to domains not led by men. They're also encouraged to pursue marrying their male classmates, who are studying to be preachers and teachers and leaders.

One of these women was lamenting -- confessing, even -- to the other that sometimes, the deepest desire of her heart is to be a preacher. She was mad at herself for this sin, she said. This sinful, prideful desire. She said that it should not shock her one bit that Satan had this kind of power over her -- that the right thing to do was to suppress these feelings, because they were dangerous. And that her desire to preach was empty, because the Spirit would not give her words to say if she stepped into a pulpit. Her desire to preach was completely self-serving, she said.

I wanted to say something. I wanted to weep. I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs that she should be allowed to do the same! That it was not sinful and prideful to want to preach the Gospel to her people -- that's what we do here! That's what each and every one of us is called to do. And she can preach the Gospel to her fellow women and she can teach children and that will be wonderful and she will do great things with her deeply faithful servant heart. But if she feels so loudly called to this vocation, she should be able to honor that.

And that, dearest ELCA, is why I love you with my whole heart. Because you allow and encourage me to yell at the top of my lungs about the God who loves me. And about Jesus the Christ who came to teach and to serve and to save. And you allow and encourage me to speak truth to power -- to your own power! -- when injustice scars our communities. You allow and encourage me to participate fully in the life of this Church.

We the ELCA are not perfect. But we're not called to be perfect. We are called to love and serve to the best of our ability, whatever our ability is.

I am weepily grateful that I have not had that fearful conversation. That I have not been afraid to stand in the pulpit and proclaim the good news. That no person in a position of power in this Church has ever told me, "you can't." And that I have never told myself that I can't.

There is not a way for me to solve the problem that this woman finds herself facing. But what I can do is keep using my voice until she can use hers. Because I am allowed an encouraged to use my voice.

And for that, thanks be to God.

Taboo dinner table conversation, as usual.

Lately (read: always) I have been doing a lot of thinking and reading about politics and religion. At my internship site, Holy Trinity Lutheran Church, there is a new discussion/study/reading/activism group forming around ideas for new ways of advocacy in/from the church. It's a handful of interesting people, all of whom understand that there is more to scripture than just reading -- there's a serious call for doing. [Theology sidebar: Don't you dare say anything about works righteousness. We're not talking about action as requirement for salvation, we're talking about action as a visceral response to the grace in which we now stand. Just so we're clear.] They want to figure out for whom to advocate and how to advocate without the congregation crying partisanship. It's such a fine line to walk, because as soon as you talk to religious folks about anything remotely related to government, they go nuts about separation of church and state. Which is hilarious, because talking at church about eradicating poverty has absolutely nothing to do with establishing a theocracy.

In addition to the reading I'm doing for this advocacy group, this week I picked up Jim Wallis' book God's Politics, which he published in 2005 as a response to totally insane religious polarization in America surrounding George W. Bush's reelection. It's a really interesting look at what the prophets of our scripture were calling their communities to act upon, and how similar our struggles for peace, freedom, equality, and justice still are to this day. He and I don't agree about everything (he's anti-choice, but strives for civil conversation on the subject [as opposed to bombing Planned Parenthoods], which is nice) and the religious landscape of the Democratic Party has changed a little bit with President Obama, so some of his claims about the lackluster left have been improved upon since he wrote them. But the polarization of American "values voters" is still stark and still tragic.

In Bible study recently, we talked about how religious folks in this country argue at the top of their lungs about some pretty minute discrepancies in our interpretations of scripture (homosexuality, abortion, women in ministry) so that we don't have to address the deeply theological issues of poverty and peace.

It's easier to complain about "welfare queens" than it is to admit that we don't have a clue how to make sure our society's most vulnerable people are fed and clothed and sheltered, and way easier than admitting we just don't want to pay for it.

It's easier to picket at Planned Parenthood than it is to let individual women make health care choices that are different than ours, and way easier than admitting that the system we uphold keeps most women from access to the same resources we have.

It's easier to rally around nationalism and supporting the troops than it is to admit that a former President cowboy-ed us in to an unjust war, and way easier than admitting that the United States of America is not in charge of the entire world.

It's easier to yell about 9/11 and terrorism and freedom than it is to admit that we don't know any better than to fight evil with evil, and way easier than admitting we routinely act out of our fear.

It's easier to protest what exists than it is to offer alternatives for what could be the new American paradigm.

And because we are the people of a book of prophets and wisdom and freedom and grace, it is our responsibility to be the voices for the people who continue (thousands of years and miles later) to be the downtrodden and the outcast of our social order. It is not our job as Christians to take away the rights of people who are different from us, simply because we're afraid of our social status changing, and crying "abomination" is easier than crying out for justice.

It is safe to say that I am outspoken about how my religious tradition and political affiliation interact. And as we barrel toward this Presidential election, my voice is going to get exponentially louder in every possible venue. The next two months are not about saving face and keeping people who "don't want to talk about politics" or "don't think politics belong at church" from feeling uncomfortable. Your privileged comfort is not my priority. Hell, my privileged comfort is not my priority.

I saw President Obama speak at CSU yesterday afternoon. To be frank, it was a little underwhelming. I was hoping for the inspiration I felt in 2008 to make a resurgence. It's pretty likely that you know that I am an Obama superfan, so it has zero to do with him as a President. It was just like ten million degrees out and Kelsey didn't make it in in time, and I couldn't really see him very well and nobody around me actually seemed very "fired up and ready to go" either...there's just not the tenacity there was last time.

And my disappointment is also in the fact that many people whom I love and respect do not appreciate the gravity of the situation. They are a bunch of upper-middle-class white males, to be honest, and so they don't have as much at stake in this election (or at least they don't think they do). And I'm planning to spend the next two months getting aggressive with them if I have to.

I don't even plan to hide behind euphemisms like "think about who you're voting for" -- my goal is to re-elect President Barack Obama because to do otherwise is to send this country careening down a path to destruction. I do not believe that President Obama is the savior of this nation (no matter how much I would like him to be) and I also do not believe that any Administration can flip a country upside down in four years. And I know that some of my most liberal friends will wax poetic about third party candidates and I hear you -- I really do. But right now, a vote for a third party just hurts progress, because we're not at a point where third party candidates actually have a shot. Quite frankly, it's a vote for Republicans. And most importantly, I do believe that Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan would try their hardest to make sure that this nation works for them and their race and their gender and their tax bracket only.

There's no time to say "Barack Obama didn't do everything he said he'd do, so I'm not re-electing him" or "The economy is still awful so I'm not re-electing him" or "We're still at war so I'm not re-electing him" or "He's just politics as usual so I'm not re-electing him" or "He didn't support the Occupy movement so I'm not re-electing him" and do you want to know why? Because the alternative to the hope and the change is MITT ROMNEY AND PAUL RYAN, the two Americans least interested in anything that you stood for in 2008 and anything that you think Obama no longer stands for in 2012.

A vote for the Republican Party (whether for President or for Congress) is a step in the wrong direction. Don't agree with me? Tell me why. And if Jesus is part of your life, tell me where Jesus is pro-rich and pro-war and anti-woman and anti-gay and all the things that show up on the GOP platform.

I dare you.

Oh! And if you are even close to letting the words "my vote doesn't matter" out of your mouth, don't even bother speaking to me about this election. On one level, you're absolutely right because one vote does not sway the entire election. But thousands (millions?) of people believing their vote doesn't matter (and therefore not casting their vote) suddenly sways an entire election. You have to be part of the solution.

And if you live in a state that "always" votes one way or the other, you may feel like it doesn't matter if you vote or not. But if you skip the Presidential election, you skip local elections. And local elections are where all sorts of policy actually get enforced. It's where nut job Governors and Mayors and City Councilmembers suddenly do things like ban the teaching of evolution in schools and allow police to pull over non-white drivers on the suspicion that they're undocumented. And you skip some Congressional elections, and you allow people like Rep. Todd Akin to serve on the House Committee on Science while he doesn't even know the finer points of human anatomy.

I digress. Please. Vote. I'm begging you.

One voice can change a room.

And if it can change a room, it can change a city.

And if it can change a city, in can change a state.

And if it can change a state, in can change a nation.

And if it can change a nation, it can change the world.

Your voice can change the world.

Senator Barack Obama

December 9, 2007