I was in the Old City of Jerusalem, not far from the Lions’ Gate, when the reporter from CBS Radio found me. He got right to the point, “Are you a pilgrim?”
This was not first time I’d been asked this question. It was Good Friday, and I had come to walk the Via Dolorosa, spending fifteen minutes in meditation at each of the Stations of the Cross. Periodically along my journey, people would ask me, “Are you a pilgrim?”
I hadn’t planned this trip to Jerusalem in advance, but an unexpected business trip had brought me to Israel. So the first few times I was asked, I was able to answer quickly and easily. “I’m not a pilgrim. I’m just here by accident.”
But when you’re talking to a news reporter, you have to be a little more careful. If your remarks make it onto the air, all your friends will be calling you up to tell you what they heard, so it’s good to think things through before responding.
“No,” I wanted to reply, “I’m not a pilgrim. I’m just someone who got up at four o’clock this morning in order to drive an hour and arrive here before dawn, and then walk the ancient city streets of Jerusalem barefoot, spending fifteen minutes in meditation at each of the stations of the cross. Why would you think that I’m a pilgrim?”
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I first met Mark Bidwell at a church conference about ten years ago. We were both youngsters in our denomination, and I remember him as a fun and friendly guy. He had a couple of teen-aged kids and being a dad was a huge focus of his life. He had recently become the pastor of MCC Detroit, and he was what I wanted to be: a successful pastor with a good family life.
We continued to run into one another at various church conferences over the years. It was always great to see him. It’s a long way from Michigan to California, but I’m sure that if we’d lived closer we would have become good friends.
Late last September, things changed for Mark. He made an extremely bad mistake. Mark brought a stranger home for a one-night stand. They used illegal drugs. The stranger died. Mark called 911. The media picked it up and the story was everywhere. Mark resigned his position with the church. He resigned his duties as a volunteer police chaplain. Our denomination suspended his ministry license.
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I arrived at the Old City of Jerusalem near dawn on Good Friday. It was early – too early for any of the local parking lots to be open. I had come to meet a group of Lutherans and Episcopalians who were going to walk the Via Dolorosa at sunrise, but by the time I was able to find parking, they were long gone.
During the day, the Old City is packed. There are countless street vendors, crowded into tiny shops that open onto the narrow streets. There is no car traffic in most of the city. The streets are too narrow for even one-way traffic, and during the daytime they are jammed with a mix of tourists, pilgrims, and people who live and work in the Old City.
If you arrive around sunrise, the streets are quiet. The sidewalk shops are closed, and the tourists, pilgrims, and residents are still asleep. The morning sun glimmers on the dusky straw-colored cobblestones, and there is a sense of imminent expectation. Soon Jerusalem will be vibrant and bustling, but now the Old City is filled with a peaceful quiet, gently illuminated by the early morning sunlight.
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I served as the Senior Pastor of MCC San Jose from December 1, 2003 until April 4, 2010. I was followed by Rev. William Knight, who served the church in 2010 & 2011, and Rev. Rebecca Anderson, who was pastor in 2011 & 2012. Following a congregational vote in early 2012, the church decided to close. Its final service was on February 26, 2012.
Here are my answers to some questions that people have asked me about the church and its decision to close.
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This essay will help you write, lead, or choose a guided meditation. It starts with some simple steps for leading an effective meditation, gives some guidelines for choosing or composing a meditation, then concludes with two sample guided meditations.
Simple Steps for Leading an Effective Meditation
- Speak calmly, slowly, and with warmth during your meditation.
- If you are using a meditation that someone else has written, you should attribute the meditation to that person as you begin. For example, “Please join me for ‘Seeing the Rainbow,’ a guided meditation by Karen Lebacqz.” Read more »
One of my favorite forms of prayer is contemplative meditation, a time of silent reflection on a specific subject. On any given day, the focus of my contemplation might be a Bible passage or a theological concept such as healing, wholeness or joy. While many forms of prayer involve speaking, contemplative prayer involves listening. What do I listen for? I listen to hear what will come to me after all of the other thoughts have tumbled out of my head.
Contemplative prayer can be the source of powerful insights, but it is not always easy, particularly if you have cats. Read more »
Please click the following graphic to see KTVU’s August 12 coverage of couples hoping to be able to marry after Judge Walker’s ruling on Proposition 8.
You can also find the coverage at the following link: http://www.ktvu.com/video/24614595/
Getting dressed up as a lesbian was definitely the easiest part. Black pants, black belt, black shoes? Got ‘em! Hawaiian shirt? Not a problem for me! Perhaps this isn’t exactly what the typical lesbian wears on an average day, but this was not an average day and these lesbians were anything but typical. I had been invited to play with the Dixieland Dykes for the Lutheran Rite of Reception and Reinstatement, and this was a special occasion indeed!
The Lutherans were celebrating a major shift in their denomination: LGBT clergy who had been denied recognition or removed from the clergy roster were now being welcomed as full members. Lutheran churches that had been expelled from the denomination for standing by their LGBT pastors and seminarians were being invited to return.
It was not clear, however, that everyone was going to be celebrating. The event organizers were preparing for the possibility that there would be protesters, and things might get loud and unpleasant. So members of the San Francisco Lesbian/Gay Freedom Band had been invited to play before the service, and the Dixieland Dykes ensemble had volunteered to perform. We didn’t know how events were going to unfold, but we were no strangers to protesters or difficult situations. If hostile protesters wanted to be loud in an unpleasant way, we were prepared to be loud in a positive, affirming, jazzy way.
Now at this point you might be wondering about my eligibility to play with a group called the Dixieland Dykes. Yes, I do have the wardrobe. But if I were asked directly, I would have to admit that I’m not really a lesbian. This is not a problem for the Dixieland Dykes – they overlook things like that all of the time. They needed a sub for the afternoon, and I was happy be a dyke for the day if it meant that we would be able to support the Lutherans and their celebration.
I was also glad to have company for the service. I have only been to Saint Mark’s Lutheran Church on one other occasion. It was ten years ago, on May 20, 2000. I was there for a memorial service for my boyfriend, James Fernando Lowrie. It was a hard time for me, and I was keenly aware that returning to Saint Mark’s might be difficult. It was good to be going with friends.
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