Graduation.

I have some super snazzy friends.  Christina and CJ came to visit me in Boston last weekend.  We got to be tourists and they got to sit through a super boring graduation ceremony.  They did this because they love me.  Like I said, pretty snazzy friends.

 They got to meet my bunny friends, Sage and Young.  Sage graduated with a Master of Religion.  Whoo Hoo!

 Christina, CJ, and I celebrated enduring the ceremony by going to Walden Pond and drinking warm beverages in Concord.  We felt like we were back home. 

Thanks to two super snazzy friends for making my FINAL weekend in New England a memorable experience!

Show and Tell.

Skip came to work with me today.

He met all kinds of people at the seminary.  He made them very happy.  He thought it was all such a nuisance.

We tried him out as a school mascot with inconclusive results.

DONE.

 
Today I officially finished.  Now, I just have to wait around for the institution to hand me a piece of paper and I am headed South.  Skip is gearing up for the long ride home and for 2 weeks of bunny camp with his grand-shepherds.  I'm aching to be HOME in my city and with my community.

"If, as Bonhoeffer insists, Christ's presence does indeed transform communities into spiritual centers for God's healing power in the world, then, through Christ, God's Word for that world assumes not mere visibility but incarnate specificity within his church... God's otherness is not, he contends, that of an eternal being aloof in his heaven.  Rather, God has become in Jesus a God for people in the context of our social existence.  The Christian community is destined to reflect the everlasting God's relationship to his people in the course of history.  Christian communities become, in turn, the stories of how God has entered into a solidarity with his creatures.  God's otherness thus becomes real in the form of individuals and communities whose relationship structure a person's very life." 

 - Kelly and Nelson, A Testament to Freedom

I am one of the few up here in the Ivory Tower seminary who have experiential knowledge of what Kelly and Nelson are talking about... and, I'm eager for the re-entry...

Suggestions welcome.

Saturday, March 30th is a very special day.  It's Skip's 4th Birthday!!!  I had to miss the last 2 Skip birthdays because I was in Europe somewhere with my students.  AND, he's been such (generally speaking) a good rabbit this year with all the changes.  AND, this year, his birthday falls on Easter weekend... how awesome is that.  So, I really want to make this a special birthday.

My problem?  What do you get a bunny for his birthday?  and... What do you get for a bunny that has everything?

Doing battle.

I know a cold as cold as it gets

I know a darkness that's darker than cold

A wind that blows as cold as it gets

Blew out the light of my soul

Blew out the light of my soul

 

Thanks, Patty Griffin.

So, I might as well admit it.  This has been a hard year for me.  Truly.  I have been stretched in ways that go beyond the realm of what can be laughed about.  Just about everything about this time has been, well, cold.

I'm thankful for Patty for reminding me of something today, though.  The reality of the battle we still find ourselves in cannot and should not be drowned out.  God help us if we ever forget why we need divine help.  Sometimes we need to go into the darkness to do personal battle.  Sometimes we go to set others free.  It all costs something.  I'm tired.

 

After almost 9 months studying Neo-Paganism, almost 11 months of not teaching, and almost 10 months of sojourn in England and New England, I'm ready to write.  It's time to tell their story.

I dream in my sleep, I dream in my days

Of some sunny street, not so far away

Where up in a window a curtain will sway

And you and I'll meet down below

 You and I'll meet down below

 

Public Service Warning!

WANTED CAPTURED!

One gray Netherland Dwarf rabbit.  Dangerous pest!  Sharp teeth!

Verdict:

GUILTY!

1 count of reckless chewing... specifically chewing of the ends of dresses in the closet. 

Booked: March 2nd, 2013 at 7:51 AM. 

BEWARE: Rabbit will pretend to be "burrowing" through hanging clothes in the closet.  Do NOT be fooled.  Rabbit desires fabric to chew.  Untold numbers of items have already been damaged.

SENTENCE: Subject to cage incarceration for approximately 1/2 of the day and stern reprimand by rabbit shepherd.

May I never take for granted...

...my beloved, though imperfect, city.

Arriving upbeat at work today, someone asked why I was particularly chipper.  I said, "I don't know but it might have something to do with listening to James Taylor on the way here."  To which my co-worker remarked, "Oh, is he a preacher or something?"

Just let that sit with you for a while and you will begin to feel what I've been feeling since August.

Yeah... really... just let that sit with you...

Seminary is a weird place.  It doesn't matter where you go, they are all pretty weird.  A bunch of people who hunker down for 3 years to study God are going to turn out a little weird... and not in the Asheville weird sort of way... in a "you are turning more square than a postage stamp" sort of weird.  In a "you can't see the earth for the bark" sort of way.

And... New England is a weird place.  There is a thick busy-ness in the air of Boston suburbia that makes people crazy.  Education and work define you.  Money is the commodity of value.  Being tough is being respected.  Pleasure is something you buy.

I was struck today (after the James Taylor comment) that what I perceived to be pathetic homesickness and general crankiness over being "here" rather than "there" (while that is certainly going on) is due in large part to what we would call "culture shock."  I arrived here 6 months ago with loads of enthusiasm to explore, to befriend, to connect, to adventure - and I'm realizing now that my model for community building and growth was not "working" with the square peg I found myself in. 

So, while I can appreciate the New England coastline, historic towns, beautiful colonial architecture, the academic rigor of the seminary, the challenge of Protestant Scholasticism, the detailed exegesis, I really long for my own culture.  A culture that, apparently, assumes everyone knows who James Taylor is and resonates with why one would feel happy listening to him on the way to work.

This is not a New England or seminary bash... though I'm tempted to label "bad place, good place."  I know that my affection for my culture is not one rooted in some absolute ideal of what makes a place wonderful.  I love it because it has that quality that no other place could reasonably assume... it's home.

May I never take for granted...
friendly smiles of strangers
being called "honey" or "sweetheart" by old ladies at grocery stores
a slower pace of life
people who don't know, ask, or care what degrees you have or what job you do
nuns on large bicycles
neighbors walking goats
folks who are always looking for an opportunity to laugh
men wearing capes
women wearing tutus
heavily tattooed and pierced people who instead of being thugs, would give you the shirt of their back
walking to my friend's house
snow storms = hot cocoa, sledding, and good times with friends
studying and teaching theology as an art, not a science
being with people who love and appreciate beauty
being exposed to good stories
hearing music that actually came from someone's soul
co-loving the creation with other people
embracing the ridiculous
a sense of the wonder of God

... and folks who know and appreciate James Taylor...

Home. 

11 Weeks.

Survived...

The Boston Blizzard.

Someone here mentioned yesterday that this might be my last glimpse of grass until late April.  I looked and said goodbye...

2-3 feet with drifts up to 4 feet.  Insane.  Snow moving horizontally for at least 12 hours.

The fence in this photo is over 4 feet tall.

 This is where I live!  The house, not the snowbank.

 It's sorta difficult to show the immensity of the snow because everything is so white, the depth perception is a little skewed.  But, you get the idea... lots of snow.

I'm glad to have a "one year, when I lived in Boston, we had this blizzard..." story.  But, I could move on with spring now if it were up to me. 

This snow was not snowman quality... I tried to make a snowball and it wouldn't stick together.  But, I did make a snow angel. 

*ALSO, today is the 4th birthday for my new knee.  I remembered that today as I trekked in the snow and felt like Dr. E really pulled through for me.  That graft is holding strong and very glad to be 4 and snow adventuring!

Blizzard.

Well, apparently, rabbits are poor predictors of the weather.

I'm sitting at home waiting for an insane blizzard to arrive.  The Weather Channel (which now decides to name storms) is calling it Nemo... just hope it doesn't change my affection for the fish.

More later.

For what it's worth...

The rabbit saw his shadow...

Now, I don't know what that means but I hope it means that summer is coming tomorrow.

Celebrations!

Rabbit Substitutionary Atonement.

Skip is molting.  Neither one of us is used to calling 20 degrees a heatwave but that's what we're dealing with up here.  Skip decided a few days ago it was time for a new fur coat to beef up the warmth factor.

Now, every time Skip molts, I participate in a theological object lesson.  Today was the day...

I hold Skip and he burrows his head in my elbow.  I grab a warm, damp cloth and start to pull out as much fur as possible.  You see, if Skip keeps grooming his fur while it's molting, well, he'll just get a bad stomach ache and stop eating altogether (molting can be lethal for bunnies).  Bad news.  So, I try to help him along. 

*I realized today that what I really need is a rabbit sized vacuum cleaner so I could use that to sort of slurp up all the fur that is shedding right off his back... but, the noise would throw him over the edge...

During this grooming session, I am miserable and so is Skip.  He doesn't like being messed with and he has no idea that I'm helping him.  I'm miserable because I have loads of bunches of bunny fur ALL over me.  Imagine stopping in the middle of Kansas and holding a gigantic magnet for tumble weeds... except it's bunny fur tumble weeds... but, same concept.

Anyway, bunny fur is the best kind of fur but it does pose problems.  It is so fine and light that it is hard to get off your hands, clothes, face, hair etc.  It just floats in the air... I get bunny fur in my contacts, in my ears, and somehow in my nose and mouth... it just floats up and you just breathe bunny fur clouds... yak. 

15 minutes later, I let Skip down to hop freely and I look at myself.  Now I look like a bunny.  The cleanup will involve much laundry, vacuuming the floor, and re-installing my contacts.  But, then I look at Skip and he seems so genuinely happy to be groomed, hopping around the room.  He doesn't look disheveled anymore and he won't get a stomach ache tonight.

He doesn't thank me (in fact he's still mad at me right now for what he thinks was an uncomfortable nuisance.)  But, I feel deeply satisfied to have acted as a good shepherd to this one bunny.  Things in the world were theologically in tune again.  And, as usual, the moment passed and now I'm doing laundry and breathing bunny fur...

1st Big Snow!

I got out the snow boots this morning!  Great quiet, sticky snow.  Lots and lots of it!  And I still made it to work and school!

Yankees don't think I'm funny...

It's true.  I have tried and tried to put my finger on why Yankees do not seem to understand me. 

Example:
The other day, I was working at the office and a Prof I had never met walked in.

Dr. Such and such: "Hello.  I don't think I've met you before.  I'm Dr. Such and such.  And you are..."
Me: "Oh, my name is Ruth.  It's nice to meet you."
Dr. Such and such: "And, Ruth, what do you do?"

*Aside: Recently, I have been really working on not seeking my identity in what I do or what title I have.  So, when I was asked this question, I was trying hard not to define myself by cultural standards of what makes somebody somebody.  So, this is the background story going on in my head.  Plus, I was feeling punchy.

Me: "Well, let's see... I know how to brush my teeth!"
Dr. Such and such:..............long awkward pause..............

*Aside: At this point, Dr. Such and such is looking at me with that all too familiar "look."  Have you seen it before on people's faces?  It's the look of "is she mentally or socially challenged?" 

Sara (in the office with me): "Ruth is a Master of Theology student working in the Doctor of Ministry office this year.  She is studying Neo-Paganism."
Dr. Such and such: "Oh, that's great.  Well, I'll see you around." *Still not getting it.
Me: "Yes.  Certainly."

And that was that.  I cannot tell you how frequently I walk away from a situation and feel completely misunderstood.  A few possibilities for what is going on here...

1.  Yankees don't understand humor that makes fun of oneself.  They prefer humor that makes fun of others.  This isn't always a bad thing, sometimes their joking is a way of saying, "Hey, you are one of us!"  It's just different.
2.  Yankees have a greater tendency to take themselves pretty seriously.  It's because it's so darn cold.  Trust me, there's a connection.
3.  I'm an Ashevillian.  And, well, we seem weird no matter where we go. 

: )

Christmas Card Photos...

I can't afford Christmas cards this year so these are the pictures I was planning on sending of me and Skip.  Merry Christmas!

What I'm doing...

This is a giant marshmallow.  My prof likened my research project this year to an effort to wrestle and pin down a giant marshmallow.

It's really difficult.  

Vermont Wonderland.

When my host family* invited me to join them in Stowe this weekend, I said "yes."

First time in Vermont.  The signs on the interstate said things like "Moose Crossing" and "Bear Crossing."  I was on alert.  Then I started wondering... how do the moose and bears know to cross at this particular part of the highway?  Do they have signs in the woods somewhere saying, "Cross stupid human interstate here."

Anyway, my first stop was in Burlington where I took my first gasp at the beauty of Lake Champlain.  Wow.  Wicked awesome.  Then, I met with a pastor in the area to chat about ministry stuff.  I felt like I was at home.  There was even a random impromptu parade outside... except it was a holiday character parade and not a zombie parade.

Next, I met up with my host family in Stowe.

Next, IT SNOWED! ... Just like I hoped for... (Kevin promptly reminded me that I will not be happy about snow for very much longer.)

I also toured the Ben and Jerry's factory.  Got some free samples of newly invented ice cream flavors.

*The best way I can explain my living situation is to say that I am a foreign exchange student from the South living in a Yankee home... except they didn't send anyone to Asheville.  They call me "the confederate."  ... we're still working on breaking down regional stereotypes...

Guess What?

I'm going to Vermont this week!

Today.

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to the worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.  But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

I Corinthians 1:26-29.