Milagros

I shall check the phase of the moon because last night was beyond weird. It was wonderful but it was weird. I got up to give ice water to Beckett (yes, the grey gato ONLY drinks ice water WITH 3 drops of Rescue Remedy; he will have it no other way). The lights were out and I was hoping no great spiders or gecko was lingering--I do love geckos but their little feet feel creepy crawling through hair only skin in an effort to escape. (the kitchen light has some sort of Panama short so takes forever to "on"). The water mission was successful; Beckett happy; no spiders or geckos. But then I noticed THE strangest Almirante event: there was no sound. I mean SILENCIO. No trucks, no trains, no Chiquita, no people, no birds, no frogs, no dogs. Had the world blown up and we missed it? Had Almirante evacuated and we'd missed it? I stood there for minutes, then ahhh in the farrrr farrrr distance, I heard a dog barking like far, beyond Meri Elvia's house, FAR....I was hardly breathing for fear of breaking the spell. SILENCE in ALMIRANTE!! How can this be? I didn't know whether to stay until the spell was broken by some obnoxious noise OR to run back to bed BEFORE the annoying noise of the night. I chose the latter. And as I opened the bedroom door, I only heard a few frogs or some kind of crickety sound which hardly counts as noise at all. Miss Paid had to have food at 5; she'd not eaten very much the evening before so I expected her "call." Again, THERE WAS QUIET. What was happening in this place of constant noise? I simply could not believe it. No dog this time; just the frogs or bugs of eentsy quiet hummy sound. It seems unbelievable and stranger than any dream. I am awake many nights. Sometimes I stay up all night and sleep during the day. Kenny's been working on this funeral and 9 days of prayer custom and I've been playing on-line scrabble and working on my three books, helping him collate, editing, and cutting and pasting. But this quiet. It was such a gift; it REMAINS such a gift as, tonight, I hear the port noise over the TV and the computer, a/c, and fan. The trucks shake the house and the dogs bark. But I am so grateful to know that perhaps if only for one night a year, there is silence in Almirante, in the middle of the night.

lullaby on a water taxi

Last week, water-taxi-ing from The Island to Hitlerville AKA Almirante, a little Ngobe boy, accompanied by a sibling and his parents, was basically moved out of his seat by someone I FELT was being child disrespectful. He was really squished by four adults and two of us with big asses. I asked his mom's permission for him to sit in my lap; he did. Now you remember I am the one who ADORES little girls, so this was an amazing feat on my part. The waves were big and bouncy; not stormy but rough. No one wants a child who lives on the water to experience fear so, with our life jackets on (it is required by the safety patrol or something), we are bouncing and the boat levitates for long seconds before BOOMING back into the water. I laugh and teach a new English word: "WHOOPEEE!" (too many years in TX I suppose). Not even a third of the way across, I feel this wee one's heaviness as I see his eyes grow heavy with sleep. (napping on this wild ride, what a great and amazing thing!). I cuddle him next to me in a more comfortable position in all our kapok orange safety devices and I decide that I'll lullaby. I don't know why; it just seemed the thing to do. I began by humming Beethoven's 9th, hoping this marvelous music, Maestro, forgive me, will go straight into this child's unconscious and if he never hears Beethoven played and sung as he should be played and sung, this darling one will have heard one of the greatest pieces of music ever written, even if it's by a poor voice musician, I, but I can hum and lah-lah-lah lullaby quite well. This darling sinks deeper and it seems time to move to something else like "Michael Row the Boat Ashore, " followed by Bach's "Sheep Gently Graze," a bit from Abbey Road, Puff the Magic Dragon, then "We Shall Overcome." By the second round of We Shall Overcome I realised people were SINGING along!! It was a moment of goosebumps and awe. We reached the Almirante dock safety and I relinquished this deeply sleeping boy to his parents. And the last time I saw him, he was sleeping in his daddy's arms and I'd been hugged and thanked by his mom.....Church doesn't happen for me in the buildings here; Church happens "on the way," on the streets, and out on the water. I'm the madre/priest (still a deacon of the NCIAR) of "along the way." Too bad the bish doesn't see it this way.

HOORAY, MEXICO

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv We need you, SOULFORCE!!! and we need you in Spanish!! http://www.soulforce.org/ vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Today, I pray for the heart of Mexico, and I ask for the intervention of Our Lady of Guadalupe and especially for the intervention all our good gay saints: George, Paul the Apostle, Augustine, Saint Boris, (my Irish and beloved) Saints Brigid--made a bishop at her baptism by "mistake" and Darlughdach of Kildare- her "long time companion", Saints Serge and Bacchus, Saints Polyeuct and Nearchos, Basil I (whose hagiography reports his being married to two men--marriage took place in C/church), St. Aelred of Rievaulx, SS. Perpetua and Felicity, Anselm of Canterbury, Julian of Norwich, St. Theodora/Theodoros of Alexandria, St Thekla, St Edward II-King of England, Alcuin of Tours, Blessed St John of the Cross, Good St Joan (of Arc), Blessed John Henry Newman, Ruth and Naomi, St John the Evangelist, David the Prophet, and Nehemiah--among others. Gay popes/Papas: John XII, Benedict IX, Julius III, Paul II, good King James--the "author" of THE one true Bible. And in our time: Malcolm Boyd, Harvey Milk, the Stonewallers, James Baldwin, Billie Holliday, William Stringfellow, marvelous +Rusty Clyma, Louie Crew aka Queen Lutibelle, Henri Nouwen, Susan Russell, Louis Weil, Bill Countryman, Jay Johnson, The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, The San Francisco Empress Society, brave and vunerable +Gene Robinson (a bishop without a bodyguard is a REAL bishop. But then I grew up with Bishop Hines), and scores of others who live their lives of devotion and faith in SPITE of the Church, but who live their lives and love the Love of God, Lover/Creator-Jesus the Lover (who, if fully human HAD to have been bi-at least!), and the Holy Spirit, Love Ever Overflowing. (from numerous websites of the hagiography of gay saints) vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv A presentation in response to the Windsor/Eames Report outlines "how a person living in a same gender union may be considered eligible to lead the flock of Christ." A booklet titled "To Set Our Hope on Christ" was distributed as part of the presentation. [Link to the text: http://www.anglicanlistening.org ]. "We believe that God has been opening our eyes to acts of God that we had not known how to see before," the text states. During all the Windsor/Eames/Akinola (ASSinola) whoopla, during one well-publicized incident, a Nigerian bishop engaged in a shouting match with a white, gay English deacon, condemning the “lifestyle choice” of gays and lesbians. Barbara Harris, attending her first Lambeth Conference since becoming a bishop in 1989, announced to the press that she was relieved she’d never have to go to another one and that “the vitriolic, fundamentalist rhetoric of some African, Asian and other bishops of color, who were in the majority, was in my opinion reflective of the European and North American missionary influence propounded in the Southern Hemisphere nations during the 18th, l9th and early 20th centuries.” Coming from a prophetic black activist, this was harsh and unusually public criticism of fellow people of color, but Harris minced no words about her sense that many bishops from developing nations were suffering from a form of internalized oppression. Their theological arguments, she said, were based on a sense of truth “that not only had been handed to their forebears, but had been used to suppress them.” http://www.colorlines.com/ vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Desmond Tutu: "Homophobia equals apartheid" The former head of the Anglican Church in Southern Africa made these statements at the launching of the book "Sex, Love & Homophobia", published last week by Amnesty International UK. Mr Tutu has written the foreword to the human rights group's book. - We struggled against apartheid in South Africa, supported by people the world over, because black people were being blamed and made to suffer for something we could do nothing about; our very skins, wrote the prominent Church leader. "It is the same with sexual orientation. It is a given," he added. Mr Tutu says he could not have fought against the discrimination of apartheid and not also fight against the discrimination which homosexuals endure. "And I am proud that in South Africa, when we won the chance to build our own new constitution, the human rights of all have been explicitly enshrined in our laws," he said, adding that he hoped this soon would also be the case in other countries. South Africa is so far the only country in the world where the constitution guarantees equal rights non-regarding sexual orientation. This is in stark contrast to most of South Africa's neighbour countries, where homosexulality often is punished by the penal code. Only recenty, a Botswana High Court ruling reaffirmed this legal practice. - Yet, all over the world, lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people are persecuted, writes Archbishop Tutu. "We treat them as pariahs and push them outside our communities. We make them doubt that they too are children of God - and this must be nearly the ultimate blasphemy. We blame them for what they are," he adds. He also regrets the dominant view among his church colleagues. "Churches say that the expression of love in a heterosexual monogamous relationship includes the physical, the touching, embracing, kissing, the genital act - the totality of our love makes each of us grow to become increasingly godlike and compassionate. If this is so for the heterosexual, what earthly reason have we to say that it is not the case with the homosexual?" Mr Tutu asks. Also within the Anglican Church, homosexuality is highly controversial and an ongoing conflict has threatened to split the global Anglican Communion. The current head of the Anglican Church in Southern Africa, Njongonkulu Ndungane, has been an outspoken supporter of including homosexuals in the Church community, putting himself in a strong-worded conflict with other African Church leaders. In its new book, Amnesty reports on the life stories of gay and lesbian people around the world. These include Poliyana Mangwiro who was a leading member of Gays and Lesbians of Zimbabwe despite President Robert Mugabe's protestations that homosexuality is "against African traditions". The book also includes the story of Simon Nkoli, a South African ANC activist who after spending four years in prison under apartheid went on to be the face of the struggle for gay rights in the new South Africa. Further, stories of hate, fear and persecution are reported from Nigeria, Egypt and other countries, in addition to reports from the states where homosexuality punishable by death; including Sudan, Mauritania and some Northern Nigerian states. For Archishop Tutu, these "destructive forces" of "hatred and prejudice" are an evil. "A parent who brings up a child to be a racist damages that child, damages the community in which they live, damages our hopes for a better world. A parent who teaches a child that there is only one sexual orientation and that anything else is evil denies our humanity and their own too," Mr Tutu concludes. http://www.afrol.com/articles/13584 vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv If you are Episcopanglican and Bishop Harris and Archbishop Desmond Tutu can't change your mind AND ACTION about gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans-gender, queer, questioning, and kinky folk, then God probably can't either.------oonagh Ryan-King And the only thing "wrong" with the statements of Bishop Barbara and AB Desmond is that I didn't say it!! (to paraphrase Robert Warren Cromey+, one truly holy human!--oonie vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Just over a decade ago in the US, during the George H.W. Bush (yes THAT Bush of Noriega and The Invasion of PC's poorest, etc) administration, it seemed as if the entire military junta were Episcopalian men: the president, Donald Rumsfeld, James Baker, George Schultz, Colin Powell, Norman Schwarzkopf, Oliver North, Dick Armey, and the list goes on. (The current alleged US president, George W. Bush, was baptized as an Episcopalian but had a “born-again” experience that led to him to convert to the United Methodist Church.) Isn't that enough to make you want to be a Starhawk Pagan activist or Quaker or Buddhist or UU or SOMETHING ELSE (even RC--they've got Romero and Dorothy Day and Louie Vitale and Ken Butigan and both Berrigans and John Dear and Ivonne Gebarra and Dolores Huerta and Cesar Chavez and Mike Casey and Kim Bobo and Henri Nouen and eons of good CST)????? And do we forget years ago the mighty Episcopalian Casper Weinberger was challenged ONLY by the ECUSA voice of The Rev'd. Robert Warren Cromey of Trinity Church, San Francisco, who called for Weinberger's excommunication because of his war position. Yes, RWC is my hero and the man I'd ask God to be my brother if I were ever offered that opportunity. With the Episcopal Church's urban landscape changing from white to black, the denomination has opted to pour its support, money, and energy not into these historic black churches but instead into developing urban Hispanic churches. The gentrification of the urban church by replacing one minority group with another sets up a paradigm of "divide and conquer" that makes neither group feel welcomed, but both expendable. (I also wish I'd said THAT! because it is very very true, I am sad to say.--oonie) "Those Hispanic churches are set up like a 'reservation system' within the Episcopal Church," said Juliana Gutierrez, a Mexican American. Comprised primarily of a migrant population from all over Latin America, these newcomers form missionary congregations set up by the Episcopal Church. Unlike parishes, missionary congregations are not free-standing: they cannot call their own rector, and cannot make their own decisions. According to Gutierrez, these missionary congregations have a paternalistic relationship with the Episcopal Church because they are not only dependent on the church for monetary support but also for a place to worship. Oftentimes Episcopal churches seek to remedy the tension by devising "separate but equal" worship hours between Spanish-speaking missionary congregations and English-speaking parishes that must share the same facilities. "The two groups come together only for special events and the Eucharist," Gutierrez said. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv I live in Bocas Province as many of you know and the heartbeat of Bocas is made up of the drums of Mama Africa and the drumming feet of our First Peoples. To me, we seem more an African diaspora than most of what is generally thought of as Latin America. So to call out African-Americans, people of colour who were gay seems important: (I am sorry to say that, as of yet, I do not know enough of the gay history of Latin America, but I can guarantee there IS one!) Without a Bayard Rustin there would have been no 1963 March on Washington for Civil Rights, but most history books rarely mention him and they almost never acknowledge that he was gay. The names of deceased singers Ma Rainey and Miss Billie Holliday, pro baseball player Glenn Burke and the late Rep. Barbara Jordan, Democrat-Texas, might be found in history books but not their sexual orientation--GAY. Ken Reeves, an openly gay African American and the former mayor of Cambridge, Mass., often calls attention to the lack of visibility of openly gay black men AND women, but it seems that, as with all persons I have known, it is the men who too often have the big burning issues with gayness.[In the US there is a saying about tedious entitled white men that could apply across many culture lines: if a straight man asks a woman out and she turns him down, he calls her "Lesbian." And most ALL (my darling husband excluded, Thanks Be To God) Anglo entitled white men are CONVINCED that EVERY gay man is "after him."] Telling the stories is a powerful way to educate others and inspire young African Americans who are coming to terms with their sexual orientation. ["Same-gender-loving" is a term that many African Americans who are not straight have adopted to describe themselves. Some saw the terms "gay" and "lesbian" as Eurocentric, and wanted to establish a separate identity.] The church has traditionally informed, influenced and guided the day-to-day lives of many African Americans. “The black church in the US is (WAS) not just a place of spirituality and enlightenment, but a place of empowerment for African Americans,” says David Neale, founder of Black Lavender Resources, a Wheaton, Md., consulting firm specializing in diversity within the GLBT community. Bishop Kwabena Rainey Cheeks, of Inner Light Ministries in Washington, D.C., agrees. “Spirituality is almost impossible to separate from Black life,” says Cheeks. “The church is a stabilizing force and a place to connect not just to God but to community, as well.” Yet some in those churches have been unwelcoming to people with a different sexual orientation or gender identity. “The black church, the oldest institution and pillar of the black community, has historically dictated the community’s stance on homosexuality — either you don’t talk about it, or you condemn it,” says Lynn d Johnson, online editor of Vibe magazine and adjunct professor at Metropolitan College of New York. It is daunting to come out only to face the fear and misunderstanding of US society in general. But many GLBT African Americans must face that same ignorance within the very institution that has for so many been the centerpiece of their community. Although most African-American denominations have not issued a public statement outlining their position on homosexuality, the stances of individual churches and ministers are revealed on Sundays. “The motto of the black church seems to be ‘don’t name it, don’t claim it,’” says Mandy Carter, a founder of the progressive organization Southerners on New Ground. This informal church dictum has led many GLBT African Americans to find and create other places to exercise their spirituality. As Bishop Cheeks put it, “I would rather sit in a tree and talk to God than go to a church that doesn’t affirm me as a gay man.” Bishop Cheeks has worked hard to ensure that his church, Inner Light Ministries, is a diverse and inclusive church for GLBT worshippers. Some gay-affirming churches, such as the United Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches (NOW HERE IN PANAMA!!!! with a Black woman bishop and a Mexican-American pastor), are ethnically and racially inclusive. But over the past few decades, new churches also have been established specifically to welcome and affirm GLBT people of color. One is the Unity Fellowship Church Movement, founded in 1985 by Rev. Carl Bean and other gay and lesbian African Americans. That church now has 15 locations across the US. The New Church, Inclusive Episcopal Reform, the parish that ordained me deacon, IS open to all and all sorts of people show up--straight, gay, European, alcoholics, people with DSMIV diagnoses, Anglo, African-American, Buddhist, Jesuit, Unitarian, UCC, Episcopalian, women, men, children, youth, priests, Franciscans, atheists, pagans, Wiccans, transgendered folk, Quakers, Methodists, Roman Catholics, Asisan-Americans, First Peoples from all over the world; their sister churches outside of CA are booming with all of God's Rainbow People! This Church draws on Anglicanisms Celtic roots--after all, the original Celts, probably the Picts, WERE a dark-skinned people. As the Celts have and ARE marginalised and oppressed, even today--see the Irish. NCIAR feels that is a point of deep connection with Creation, The Cosmic Christ, and ALL of God's Rainbow Tribe. This Church can grow in Latin America because of the more "Roman style liturgy" and the ability and openness to syncretism--the openness and hospitality to blend and merge cultures and styles of worship to meet the needs of her members/parishioners. We welcome NCIAR's founders to Panama next year. They'll be speaking and teaching for AHMNP and UNAIDS-UNOSIDA. AND some long-established black churches also have made progress toward being more welcoming. In April 2000, the Union United Methodist Church in Boston voted to become the nation’s first black Methodist church to officially welcome and include gay and lesbian worshippers. Allen Temple, Oakland, and her charismatic, humble, marvelous Senior Pastor, friend and mentor, J Alfred Smith Sr, is one such example of a mega church on the cutting edge of everything! (I'd be an Allen Temple American Baptist preacher if I could preach that long!!! and memorise and extemporise sermons!! Alas, I am a word person of the twelve minute sermon unless someone really gets me going and then I can sing-song with the best of 'em. I even have a VOICE that rumbles!) That same year of 2000 the United Methodists of Color for a Fully Inclusive Church was founded. The chuch engages people in the subject of heterosexism and homophobia in Christianity and the United Methodist Church. “We are accomplices through our silence on these issues,” says Rev. Gil Caldwell, who sits on its advisory board. “We must connect the struggles, as different as they are.” Rev. Cecil Williams "moved" the mega and mega-amazing Church--Glide Memorial--in San Francisco to non-denominatioinal when the Methodists were all in an uproar about queerfolk. The Rev Robert Warren Cromey (autobiograhy "Sex Priest" available online at amazon.com. You may come to the house and read our copy. I can't let it walk out; it's a holy relic), retired, of Trinity San Francisco, has been a tireless advocate of civil/gay rights since the 1960's--long before it was sexy. He stood up against C/church, parish, vestry, diocese, and bishop to preach the Good News of ALL GOD's PEOPLE long before it was considered "sexy." Back when it was dangerous to preach such about Black folks AND queerfolk in the US in San Francisco. He brought the Good News to his mentor, the late and marvelous Bishop Jim Pike, that sainted human of Love and outrageousness. (Why don't we make them like this anymore? Why are we so tediously vanilla, regardless of our skin colour? Of what are we afraid?) Individual pastors also are making a difference. “I hope I’m doing some sharing of faith that recognizes all human beings as God’s creation,” says Rev. Timothy McDonald III, the founding pastor of the First Iconium Baptist Church in Atlanta. “The pastor sets the tone. If the pastor is scared, homophobic and sends out negative signals about gays and lesbians, it’s going to spread throughout the congregation.” Trinity SF has held BIble studies over the years, massage sessions, premarital counseling groups and individual sessions that are open and honest about sex and sexuality. One Lenten series was a Saturday of watching and processing well erotic and soft porn--hetero, gay, and Lesbian. Nudes filled the good priest's study as did books about sex and sexuality. If we as bishops, archbishops, priests, lay leaders, and missionaries can't talk about OUR OWN sexuality and struggles, then we all need to just shut the doors and turn our churches into restaurants and bookstores. For those of us considered "liberal," has anyone ever asked or told HOW we came to feel this way; did we just grow up "gay positive," or did something change us and how and why and when? And with what do we still struggle? I can tell you I am totally intolerant of intolerance and that I am a long time straight woman who loves to hang out with gay men and I've been like that since Jr High School and I was poor white trash from Mississippi. But I had unusual parents and I think I was reading before I could talk or walk. And those parents and my English literature teacher first cousin put BOOKS in my hands and I was reading James Baldwin in Jr High and I grew up listening to Miss Billie and James Meredith was born and grew up in the same town as I. As did Oprah Winfrey, so there MUST be something in that mean little red-hilled town of pursed-mouthed Calvinists! And I'd have to say that it was probably that we were too poor to have any Civil War battles fought in that county and the sacred ground still gives up relics of our First Peoples, the Choctaw. In 1998, the Human Rights Campaign hosted its first Gospel & Soul, an event designed to reach out and build coalitions with African-American churches and ministers who support gay civil rights. Since then, Gospel & Soul celebrations have occurred in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, Raleigh and Detroit. “As leaders of this community, we must challenge ourselves to move …from this place of joyful celebration into our black churches and communities — boldly encouraging and engaging in discourse about sexuality,” Rev. Kelly Brown Douglas said at the 2000 HRC Gospel & Soul event in Atlanta. Brown is an associate professor of theology at Howard University’s School of Divinity AND an Episcopalian--I assume she still is. After all, Barbara Brown Taylor has left since I've been in Panama. God only knows who else is gone! And I can't blame them. (Dr Brown-Douglas has written on "The Black Christ" and sex and gender in African-American churches. She, Ivone Gebara of Brasil, and "Indecent Theology"'s Dr. Marcella Althaus-Reid are my favorite feminist theologians. Dr. Althaus-Reid writes: "Drawing on the experiences of queers, the poor and Latin American spirituality 'Indecent Theology' explores "sexuality, poverty and God... All theology is sexual theology. 'Indecent theology' is sexier than most... Heterosexuality informs ways of knowing, ways of relationship and even economic patterns and expectations. I want to explore different ways of love and knowing." In doing so indecent theology presents a stark challenge to the Church's dominant, if unrecognized, sexual theology. "My interest has been to consider how our theological understandings and church organisations depend on heterosexual thinking, from dualist conceptions to ideas about reproduction, property and hierarchy. Sexual ideologies combined with racial and class patterns produce oppression.") are my favorite women theologians these days. ---from a presentation of Dr. Marcella Althaus-Reid, quoting from her second book, "Indecent Theology." vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv As more churches open their doors (but do we open our MOUTHS?) to GLBT parishioners and more leaders publicly recognize those of different sexual orientations and gender identities, fewer GLBT African Americans will be forced to choose between their identities and their faiths. Does this also apply to us here in the grand color box of cultures here in Panama, at the crossroads of the world? And why not? vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv To find a welcome and affirming place of worship near you, contact the GLBT religious organizations listed at the end of this diatribe. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Coming out to family is often one of the most difficult experiences for a gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender person. And for African Americans, it may be particularly challenging, says Sean Carmago, former senior adviser on diversity and communities of color at Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays, a national group based in Washington, D.C. “The black family unit is a very strong one,” says Carmago. “In a world where racism is still far too prevalent, the family is a haven, a stronghold of support.” For many, there is no place in this fortress of strength for a “weakness,” as homosexuality is often viewed. Parents sometimes think that having a gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender child is detrimental and damaging to the black family and will negatively affect the whole African-American community. As the late African-American lesbian author Audre Lorde described it:“Within black communities where racism is a living reality, differences among us often seem dangerous and suspect. The need for unity is often misnamed as a need for homogeneity.” (Sister Outsider: Essays and Poems.Crossing Press, 1984.) For Those We Love is a program founded specifically to support African-American families of GLBT people. Founder William Beale of Washington, D.C., the father of a gay son, was involved in PFLAG but felt that others would feel more comfortable in an African American-only support group. “I’d see one other black person at the local PFLAG meeting, but they’d never return. My guess was that they didn’t feel comfortable ‘airing their dirty laundry’ in that setting,” says Beale. “Some feel homosexuality should only be shared or discussed with others like themselves.” PFLAG has also formed a Families of Color Network, which strives to keep good, strong, healthy families united by love, addresses issues of institutionalized racism and works to break down barriers of sexual orientation and gender identity within communities of color. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv To the people that we love, I think the greatest gift we can give is to be who we are, as we find out who we are. That is the greatest gift. --Alice Walker, author vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Many people see the GLBT community as a microcosm of society in that it faces the same economic, racial, domestic and class issues as the rest of the American public. It is understandable, then, that similar challenges with social issues will exist. Some African Americans don’t feel comfortable or welcome in the broader GLBT community or movement that many view as historically white-focused. “Whether it’s intentional or not, when GLBT organizations are predominately white, it discourages people of color. They look at the faces, don’t see anyone like themselves and think, ‘I have no place here,’” says Mandy Carter, African-American lesbian activist. Carter points to the growth of Black Pride celebrations as evidence that African Americans need to see other people like themselves--in suits, tennis shoes, feathers, leather, rubber or gold lame'. “Some people think that having black prides is somehow divisive, but I see it as another way to affirm the still too frequent invisibility of same-gender-loving blacks.” Being honest about your sexual orientation or gender identity can be a matter of life and death — or, at a minimum, essential to getting effective care and treatment. Some of the people who may most need toknow the truth about your orientation or identity are your health care providers--doctors, nurses, dentists, acupuncturists, etc. Coming out to them can be hard, however, because inaccurate information exists across the medical community about the treatment of GLBT health care consumers. A number of health care providers still mistakenly presume all patients are heterosexual. As a result, it can be awkward and grossly insensitive (and just plain estupido) when a doctor or nurse asks whether you are sexually active and what kind of birth control you use. Their ignorance encourages many GLBT people to delay or avoid getting the care they need. And it keeps many from talking with their providers about promoting good health and preventing disease in an informed, open way. If you are not ready to come out to your own health care provider, perhaps you would feel more comfortable talking with a gay-friendly one. (email or call me and I'll give you a list of gay friendly and gay savvy folks. You may also contact AHMNP in Panama City.) Similarly, if you have a therapist, make sure he or she is knowledgeable about issues facing GLBT people. A number of providers remain ill-informed, particularly about transgender issues — and could give inaccurate or damaging advice. THIS IS OUR RESPONSIBILITY--TO PROTECT OURSELVES FROM THOSE WHO INTEND HEALTH BUT PROVIDE HARM. WE MUST INFORM OUR CONGREGATIONS AND BE PLACES OF SAFETY AND INFORMATION. www.gayhealth.com (able to help with finding health care providers) The presence of open GLBT African Americans in the church and within the family will be key to changing the homophobic atmosphere in those institutions. If we are going to change things, we have to become visible. You will find that coming out is not a one-time event, but rather a lifelong journey. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv RESOURCES OF RELIGIOUS ORGANISATIONS FOR GLBT/same gender-loving folk: If no one answers you because this is a US-based web revue, I suggest you contact the Society of Friends, the Quakers. I have never known them to let anyone down. And THAT'S A STATEMENT!!!!! Affirmation (Mormon) P.O. Box 46022 Los Angeles, CA 90046-0022 323/255-7251 www.affirmation.org Affirmation (United Methodist) P.O. Box 1021 Evanston, IL 60204 847/733-9590 www.umaffirm.org Al-Fatiha Foundation (Muslim) P.O. Box 33532 Washington, D.C. 20033 202/319-0898 www.al-fatiha.net Association of Welcoming and Affirming Baptists P.O. Box 2596 Attleboro Falls, MA 02763-0894 508/226-1945 www.wabaptists.org Brethren/Mennonite Council for Lesbian and Gay Concerns P.O. Box 6300 Minneapolis, MN 55406 612/722-6906 www.webcom.com/bmc/ welcome.html Dignity/USA (Roman Catholic--YES, there are open and out RC parishes and people!) 1500 Massachusetts Ave., Ste. 8, N.W. Washington, DC 20005-1894 800/877-8797 www.dignityusa.org Emergence International (Christian Scientist) P.O. Box 26237 Phoenix, AZ 85068 800/280-6653 www.emergence-international.org Evangelicals Concerned with Reconciliation P.O. Box 19734 Seattle, WA 98109-6734 206/621-8960 www.ecwr.org Gay Buddhist Fellowship 2215-R Market St., PMB 456 San Francisco, CA 94114 415/974-9878 www.gaybuddhist.org Integrity (Episcopalian) 1718 M St., N.W., PMB 148 Washington, DC 20036 202/462-9498 www.integrityusa.org Lutherans Concerned P.O. Box 10461 Chicago, IL 60610 www.lcna.org More Light Presbyterians 4737 County Rd., 101 Minnetonka, MN 55345-2634 www.mlp.org Office of GLBT Concerns for Unitarian Universalists Association 25 Beacon St. Boston, MA 02108 617/948-6475 www.uua.org/obgltc/ Rainbow Baptists P.O. Box 3183 Walnut Creek, CA 94598 www.rainbowbaptists.org Reconciling Pentecostals International 34522 N. Scottsdale Rd., D-8 Suite 238 Scottsdale, AZ 85262 480/595-5517 www.reconcilingpentecostals.com SDA Kinship International (Seventh-Day Adventist) P.O. Box 49375 Sarasota, FL 34250 866/732-5677 www.sdakinship.org United Fellowship of Metropolitan Community Churches (I can give you the email information for their bishop and pastor) 8704 Santa Monica Blvd., 2nd Fl. West Hollywood, CA 90069 310/360-8640 www.ufmcc.com United Methodists of Color for a Fully Inclusive Church 3801 N. Keeler Avenue Chicago, IL 60641 773/736-5526 www.umoc.org Unity Fellowship Church Movement (African American) 5148 West Jefferson Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90016 323/938-8322 www.unityfellowshipchurch.org World Congress of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Jews P.O. Box 23379 Washington, DC 20026-3379 202/452-7424 www.glbtjews.org African Ancestral Lesbians United for Social Change, Inc. 154 Christopher St., #3-C New York, NY 10014 212/741-9110, ext. 18 www.aalusc.org Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice 116 East 16th St., 7th Fl., New York, NY 10003 212/529-8021 www.astraea.org Bisexual Resource Center P.O. Box 1026 Boston, MA 02117-1026 617/424-9595 www.biresource.org Gay and Lesbian Medical Association 459 Fulton St., Ste. 107 San Francisco, CA 94102 415/255-4547 www.glma.org Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network 121 W. 27th St., Ste. 804 New York, NY 10001 212/727-0135 www.glsen.org Gender Education and Advocacy P.O. Box 65 Kensington, MD 20895 301/949-3822 (#8) www.gender.org Human Rights Campaign 1640 Rhode Island Ave., N.W. Washington, DC 20036 202/628-4160 TTY 202/216-1572 www.hrc.org International Foundation for Gender Education P.O. Box 540229 Waltham, MA 02454-0229 781/899-2212 www.ifge.org Lambda Legal 120 Wall St., Ste. 1500 New York, NY 10005-3904 212/809-8585 www.lambdalegal.org Lesbian and Gay Immigration Rights Task Force 350 W. 31st St., Suite 505 New York, NY 10001 212/714-2904 www.lgirtf.org National Association of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Centers 12832 Garden Grove, Blvd. Ste. A Garden Grove, CA 92843 www.lgbtcenters.org National Black Justice Coalition P.O. Box 1229 New York, NY 10037 212/330-6599 www.nbjcoalition.org/ National Center for Lesbian Rights 870 Market St., Ste. 570 San Francisco, CA 94102 415/392-6257 www.nclrights.org National Gay and Lesbian Task Force 1325 Massachusetts Ave., N.W. Ste. 600 Washington, DC 20005 202/332-6483 TTY 202/332-6219 www.ngltf.org LLEGÓ — National Latina/o Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Organization 1420 K St., N.W., Ste. 400 Washington, DC 20005 888/633-8320 www.llego.org National Coming Out Project 1640 Rhode Island Ave., N.W. Washington, DC 20036 www.hrc.org/ncop National Minority AIDS Council 1931 13th St., N.W. Washington, DC 20009 202/483-6622 www.nmac.org National Youth Advocacy Coalition 1638 R St., N.W., Ste. 300 Washington, DC 20009 800/541-6922 www.nyacyouth.org Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays 1726 M St., N.W., Ste. 400 Washington, DC 20036 202/467-8180 www.pflag.org Servicemembers Legal Defense Network P.O. Box 65301 Washington, DC 20035-5301 202/328-3244 www.sldn.org Youth Resource 200 M St., NW Washington, DC 20036 202/419-3420 www.youthresource.com Zuna Institute 4660 Natomas Blvd., 120–181 Sacramento, CA 95835 916/419-5075 www.zunainstitute.org vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv African American Lesbians United www.celebratesisterhood.org/index1.html Blacklight www.blacklightonline.com Blackstripe www.blackstripe.com Black Homie Pages www.blk.com Chocolate City www.chocolatecityusa.com GLAAD Black History Month Kit www.glaad.org/media/resource_kit_detail.php?id=3048 NGLTF Black Pride www.ngltf.org/pi/blackpride.htm Operation: Rebirth www.operationrebirth.com VenusMagazine www.venusmagazine.com Women in the Life www.womeninthelife.com PFLAG RELATED For Those We Love (Washington, D.C.) and African-American PFLAG chapters in Columbus, Ohio; Detroit; Seattle, Wash.; and Boston: contact www.pflag.org Families of Color Network (Listserv) at focn@pflag.org. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv A Whosoever Church: Welcoming Gays and Lesbians into African American Congregations. Gary David Comstock, Westminster John Knox Press, 2001. Black Gay Man: Essays. Robert F. Reid-Pharr and Samuel R. Delany,New York University Press, 2001. Black Like Us: A Century of Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual African American Fiction. Devon W. Carbado. ed. et al, Cleis Press, 2002. Brother to Brother: New Writings by Black Gay Men. Essex Hemphill and Joe Beam, ed., Alyson Publications, 1991. Coming Out While Staying in: Struggles and Celebrations of Lesbians, Gays, and Bisexuals in the Church. Leanne McCall Tigert, United Church Press, 1996. Does Your Momma Know: An Anthology of Black Lesbian Coming Out Stories. Lisa C. Moore, ed., Redbone Press, 1998. The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart. Peter J.Gomes, William Morrow & Co., 1996. The Greatest Taboo: Homosexuality in Black Communities. Delroy Constantine-Simms, Alyson Publications, 2001. In the Life: A Black Gay Anthology. Joseph Beam, Alyson Publications,1988. Love Awaits, African American Women Talk About Sex, Love, and Life: Dearest Brothers, Much Peace, Your Sisters. Courtney Long and Maria Jones, eds., Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishers, 1995. Love Lifted Me: In Spite Of The Church. K. Godfrey Easter, LLM Publishing Group, 2002. One More River to Cross: Black and Gay in America. Keith Boykin, Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1998. One of the Children: Gay Black Men in Harlem. William Hawkswood, University of California Press, 1996. Respecting the Soul: Daily Reflections for Black Lesbians and Gays. Keith Boykin, William Morrow & Co., 1999. Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches. Audre Lorde, Crossing Press, 1984. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv FILM: All God’s Children. Dr. Dee Mosbacher, Frances Reid and Dr. Sylvia Rhue, 1996. Among Good Christian People. Catherine Gund and Jacqueline Woodson, 1980. B.D. Women. Inge Blackman, 1994. The Body of a Poet: A Tribute to Audre Lorde. Sonali Fernando, 1995. Black Nations/Queer Nations? Shari Frilot, 1995. Brother Outsider: The Life of Bayard Rustin. Nancy Kates and Bennett Singer, 2002. A Different Kind of BlackMan. Sheila J. Wise, 2001. The Edge of Each Other’s Battles: The Vision of Audre Lorde. Jennifer Abod, 2000. James Baldwin: The Price of a Ticket. Karen Thorson, 1990. He Left Me His Strength. DCTV, 1989. I Shall Not Be Removed: The Life of Marlon Riggs. Karen Everett, 1996. Living With Pride: Ruth Ellis @ 100. Yvonne Welbon, 1999. Our House: Lesbians and Gays in the Hood. Not Channel Zero, 1993. Tongues Untied. Marlon Riggs, 1989. Watermelon Woman. Cheryl Dunye, 1997. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv The Trevor Hotline 866/4UTREVOR 866/488-7386 Gay and Lesbian National Hotline 888/843-GLNH (4564) National AIDS Hotline 800/342-AIDS (2437) 800/344-7432 (Spanish) 800/243-7889 (TTY) vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv WHAT IS THE NATIONAL COMING OUT PROJECT? The Human Rights Campaign Foundation’s National Coming Out Project is an ongoing effort to promote honesty and openness about being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender on campus, in the workplace and in the community. It is an extension of National Coming Out Day, which was established after the 1987 gay and lesbian march on Washington, D.C. Celebrated every Oct. 11, National Coming Out Day is designed to educate America about the lives of GLBT people and celebrate the com- munity’s achievements. The yearlong National Coming Out Project, led by Candace Gingrich, offers printed and web resources, facilitates public education and outreach programs that open a dialogue with GLBT and straight Americans and encourages GLBT Americans to come out and get involved. Visit theNational Coming Out Project at www.hrc.org/ncop. For more copies of the Resource Guide to Coming Out for African Americans or more information on the Human Rights Campaign Foundation and its National Coming Out Project, please contact us at 800/866-NCOD, ncop@hrc.org or 1640 Rhode Island Ave., N.W., Washington, DC 20036. http://www.hrc.org/Content/ContentGroups/Publications1/AfricanAmericanResourceGuide.pdf. vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv TWO-SPIRIT PEOPLE NATIVE AMERICAN BERDACHE Two-Spirit People, or one called a 'Berdanche', or even one of the 'third gender', are individuals not caterigorized as either gay or lesbian, transvestite or bisexual. Those who, in many Native American Cultures, who are respected and looked apon as people who are both male and female, making them more complete, more balanced than simply a man or a woman. Before those from Europe came from across the waters, and took over their land, these people were part of the 'norm', connected with the very heartbeat of the life force we are all part of. Even today, Berdaches are accepted in many American Indian societies and in other settings. http://www.coreymondello.com/Berdache.html vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv En la lucha oonie oonagh Ryan-King ECUSA Missionary in Panama In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends. [and those of our church siblings] --MLKJr

Recommendations

I've been outrageously busy with way too much, mostly learning a new language--Spanish and trying to do "church stuff" at the same time, enough to get me into the ordination process. So it will be a while before I'm blogging again--or until the next "gringafit." Cause I STILL have to talk about Gay Pride and my Surprise Birthday Party. And, too, I am flat of my back swimming in vertigo. Tres boring. Muy boring? Mucho boring? Boring en espanol I KNOW is In the meantime I HIGHLY recommend some incredible bloggers http://cromey.blogspot.com/ http://www.everyvoice.net/ http://207.234.205.13/2004/08/review-by-robert-warren-cromey.htm JESUS CIRCLES BLOG TIME by Peter Lawson http://207.234.205.13/blog.htm http://207.234.205.13/index.htm http://peacebang.blogspot.com/ http://shadesofgray.blog-city.com/photo_album_1.htm

No Michelle, but....

I miss my very best friend EVAH, Michelle. And I knew that this was going to be the most difficult and painful part of our moving so far away from film, movies, Michelle, popcorn, sushi bars, oyster bars, Skates, and Martuni's--and ALL kinds of church. And all of that just reminds me so much of how much I miss Michelle--not to mention hours in Long's or Walgreen's or paintin our nails and decidin on our hair. PLUS talking about THE most important stuff in the cosmos AND the most important knitting patterns and just life, havin a good friend down the street...... Well, I know there will be no Michelle here and probably not a friend at all, but I have been having interactions and experiences that are kinda like having a girlfriend. KINDA! Just a mere touch of KINDA. We are in language school five days a week for 4 hours a day. Learning a new language 2:1 (and when the 2 is my husband) is VERY intimate. And what I need MOST here is a womanfriend and a gay male friend. Now I may not have exactly that but in this school (Spanish school; we meet outside) with THE GREATEST instructors. WOW; they should really teach other teacherse how to teach and have fun teaching. So we have 4 women teachers and 1 male teacher. THEY are SOO FABULOUS!! Two of the teachers and I irritake dear Kenny because we get caught up in these GIRL reactions and interactions and even giggles! Oh, sweet heavens! The male instructor, in my imagination, is my new gay friend. I don't know if he's gay or not but I like to imagine he is so I have paradise 4 hours a day of what I miss the most here. I LOVE learning and I LOVE school. And the OTHER thing I've missed is the challenge of learning and having my brain stimulated. And I get all that PLUS a cat! What ELSE is there? (Well, there's no Michelle and no out gay men and even though it's not close to friends but it's sooo healing RIGHT NOW. We have so much fun! We laugh and our class time often extends beyond our scheduled time that Miss Alex has to laugh and come ring her bell. AND one of our professors is having a baby. She's too awesome because she both reminds me of Michelle AND Lavay and she's pregant. If she has a girl, I'll just be purring. I want to thank the folks at Spanish School By The Sea, Bocas Island, for saving my life and our marriage and my brain. And really, the teachers are SUPER! Sigh. I plan to continue once a month or what we can afford after our 815 paid for lessons is over; for this is may be as close as I get to Michelle-y, film, rootbeer, and popcorn, then meandering the streets for sushi and chocolate cake with mango AND raspberry sauce. Missing you, Michelle, and KNOW that I think of you each and every day. A best friend is a rare and special gift.

What I do not have the ovaries to publish on Manning's blog/yahoo list serve

Subject: Gender, Sex, & The Church, etc. We in this diocese and "we" the c/Church world-wide, wonder, argue, and research if, why, and when we'll ordain and REALLY accept the ordination of women; we argue, wonder, and research if we can even accept non-heterosexuals (gay, Lesbian, bi-sexual, transgendered, Queer, and questioning" folk in our parishes, in our clergy, and we also wonder, argue, and research if we and the C/church can EVER "marry" non-heteroseuxals--by that, I mean, as clergy and as lay folk, if we can create and honour some sort of "sacrament" for non-heterosexuals that looks like and carries the same weight in culture as marriage/matrimony. I think the questions MUST be less general and more specific. I was raised in a state in the US called Mississippi, a place and people known for slavery and great weatlh, for the most horrible atrocities against African-Americans EVER and ANYWHERE (that has not gone away; it remains and it is real. The racism is MS is scarier today than it was in 1968. I lived in MS from 1953 to 1979; last year when I returned for my mother's funeral, IN ONE DAY of driving less than five hours, I saw more C/confederate battle flags than I have ever seen in my entire life (and that includes an "Ole Miss"/University of MS football game where the symbols used to be that flag and "Colonel Reb." (But that is another story for another day.) MS and the Deep South of the US are not alone within the USA in their fearfulness of "other." Outsiders are viewed with fear; anyone different is viewed with fear. This is in direct opposition to every little town in MS in which I've lived or visited--every town has its resident "queer." It's known but never discussed. Some gossip, yes, but discussion NO! And NEVER within the presence of the person for "it would hurt his feelin's so." Sadly this beloved gay/Lesbian person (usually male and gay, interestingingly enough) is often a renegade member of an affluent, old, powerful and monied family; we can afford to "accept" (and by accept I do not mean that Mr Jimmy can EVER bring his lover to his home, that Miss Ethel Ann, can NEVER be a member of NOW or let it be known that she is pierced--so Miss Ethel Ann MUST go outside the community (usually another state) for health care and when she is cremated we all hope to hell and heaven that it is one particular funeral home/crematorium business who is in charge of her remains and cremains, for he is the ONLY person who will NEVER tell. If she has a heart attack, God forbid, in public and is rushed to the local hospital, before it is ever known if she will live or die, the medical and nursing staff will have notified EVERYONE they know within a 5 state radius about her piercing. (It's a wonder any of the Miss Ethels EVER survive with all the people on the telephone.) But WOE--Wo! I say-- to any African-American, Latino-a migrant farm worker new to the Deep South (fillin up the pews of very scary evangelical churches), poor (po white trash or PWT) or middle-class ordinary white person who is gay/Lesbian/bi-sexual (we can hardly begin to form the worlds "transgendered" for it all seems just too demonic to way too many.) There is something really "scape-goat" about this one "acceptable" person who gets to live out his charming, fabulous taste, gorgeous home, ancient family silver service for 50 within this community. He is the ONE who gets to be gay/queer/bi/Lesbian for everyone else. And since we, the local community of that town in MS, refuse to allow him any sex or sexuality, we ALL must be pure, too. It really fecks one up as the Irish say. But I digress. We of the C/church world-wide and the C/church in Panama cannot begin to speak out to the diocese, Republic, and world at large until we can speak to our own. Shall we begin? I say that charity begins at home and if we the Church are EVER going to respond and react and behave as Jesus would (I will NOT say "....behave as Christians would behave" for we know far too well the evils and atrocities of Christianity!), we must FIRST accept and love and care for our own gay and Lesbian clergy. Has everyone's heart stopped beating yet? Did she just say "we have GAY clergy in Panama?" Yes, she did. OH NO and WOE! I go to diocesan meetings; I have great "gaydar." It's not my business to "out" anyone and I won't. But statistically, let's be real. If one out of every ten persons is some sort of "gay"--non-heterosexual, the chances are REALLY great that there is at least ONE non-heter within our own. Does anyone know this but me? Or does "everyone" know this and we don't talk about it? If, say, we have a homosexual who is married with children, does that person EVER tell his confessor, spiritual director, bishop, seminary professor somewhere during The Process towards ordination? And I'm "queer" because I'm a latex lovin sub and I have yet to find a space with enough a/c in Panama that would allow me to wear a latex dress with my opera length latex gloves and my latex boots! And if someone created a dungeon, it might really be cool, as in temperature cool and I might just have to go live there....Resident latex hermit? So then when my beloved spouse calls for clergy dialogue, I expect he really means we'll all talk about own our sexualities and our own joys and struggles. But he's a new Episcopalian and does not know that we don't do that. We are smart people, cut off at the necks, who would speak GENERALLY and NEVER specifically about sex and sexuality. If we're REALLY smart and/or academic, we'll cite other academics and smart people and MAYBE the bible; if we're smart and possibly academic, we MIGHT cite THE BIBLE (with SOME context, history, or possibility of eons of lost bits, eons of verbal culture, and mischance of translation)--for we ALL KNOW THAT THE BIBLE IS THE VERY WORD OF GOD, from God's brain to God's pen..how ridiculous...God with a pen..or better, God with a turkey feather and some home-made ink--no BICS for God!!!!!!! Tell me, does God, then, get handcramps from writing? And in what language does God write, pray tell? Ah, you say, the Good Queen's English? No, but NO, the good (and gay) KING'S English (that would be good and gay King James--and EVERY good Christian knows this is a true fact!!! And if we're ignorant and fearful and terrified of our own sexuality or something that MIGHT be something we like sexual that's not 2.5 minutes of man-on-top-of-woman with the woman having no pleasure and neither of them having a second's worth of a fantasy that the other might be Liam Neesom, Desmond Tutu (doesn't everyone fantasize about Desmond in our beds? Yum) Barry White, Oscar Romero, Louis Weil, Bill Countryman, the local firefighter, Madonna (either one), Ann Cromey, Eva Peron, Ana Murray (double yum), Jennifer Lopez (if she never speaks, just stands there with her darling great big butt), Francis of Assisi, La Morenita (the ONLY Mary, mother of Jesus I want to have sex with..and she's pregnant!), Mary Magdelene (triple yum), Alice Waters, or JESUS HELP ME JEEZUS!!!!??? (Did she just say she finds Jesus sexy or mi DIOS, that she fantasizes of Jesus in her bed??? Yes, she did, but you did not ask her if she fantasizes a male Jesus, a female Jeus, a gay Jesus, a Lesbian Jesus, or a BISEXUAL Jesus, my most favorite Jesus of all--having Jesus, Mary Magdalen, AND that male disciple that Jesus loved all in my bed doing sexual stuff--all at the same time....Yes Yes Yes and MORE, por favor.)....If we're that ignorant and fearful, we'll certainly use THE BIBLE as our ONLY resource, for it's the only resource we need, and certainly quote as the bible something that has NEVER been in the bible!!! Och, and there's a rant for ye now....

The Last Mono

For the past several days when I've been outside digging in the wee bit of dirt--mostly rocks and muck--planting papaya, mango, citrus tree-lings and rearranging the "water plants," I've not seen the Big Mono, remaining sibling (?twin?) of the "Littlest Mono" who died in February. I've been out late and it's been raining and I had hoped (and prayed to Francis and Clare who don't seem to be paying attention to monos these days. I'll take this up with my Franciscan friends) he was inside...I found out today that the last and grande mono died of a respiratory infection. I cannot imagine how devastated Gladys must be; if I am this devastated. I've cried and railed and hurled the St Francis candle across the room several times in my rage and pain. These precious lives of these precious darlings, so loved by us all, just wiped out, gone, dead. Another thing to mourn; God, when does it stop? Does the mourning ever end after 40? I do not know what to do; I'd get them kittens later if I thought it would help. Gladys LOVED those babies soo much. And they were too darling and soo connected to us humans. Is there a patron saint of monkeys? Well, then I suggest she or he dust off their godstuff and get to crankin' on comforting Roberto y Gladys. I'lll write a note and send messages to folks in Canada. I think, though, that the one-o mono died from a broken heart; I think he missed his brother soo much; life was too sad without company and a companion. I can understand that. As much as I am on a bitch of a tear about Kenny, the Church, the priesthood, etc, my greatest fear is that something will happen to him--like death--and not death for a "CAUSE" either, but just death. I'm not sure the kitties could keep me connected to this earth. I might have to join him wherever he would be. And THEN I think what would it be like to have Beckett and/or Paid die and I cry all over again. That would be as awful as losing Kenny...reallly. These are my family..la familia...Kenny and these 2 precious gatos. They are the light and joy of my life. Once I could say that about the Church; when the Church was the ONE place that kept me half-way sane and gave me comfort and work to do almost 30 years ago (God, I'll be a basket case on 4 August and the bishop will be here as I'm glooming about and carrying on. Lordamercy Jesus! Too much loss. Yes, it's true, I had a magical existance for sooo soo long, particularly when Kenny came into my life. But for the last 20 to 24 months, it's been one huge loss after another. And of course here I keep remembering those folks and experiences I no longer have no access to. Will this ever end? Can't I get a break from all this? Yet, who am I to ask for a break when I have EVERYTHING including the greatest luxury of a graduate school education and papayas every day and books and stuff and the love of one really good man whom I truly adore? How do I deserve another spell of magic when people around me have so little or nothing? And I can't seem to find God or The Divine anymore? Who am I to be so fucking arrogant? Well, a spoiled only child for one, who HUNGERS to do the ONE THING on this earth that has ever brought me joy--and that's doing the liturgical and the church stuff as full-time. I also miss seminary and school. I want to learn the "new" forever! But our gatos are safe and Gladys' monos are dead and I can feel her pain across the yard and across the fence and my woman heart to her woman heart. Gay Pride IS VERY IMPORTANT, yet I cannot write about my experiences for the sadness. And I never even took a picture of either mono. What an ejit! Dear Frances and Clare, if you're still the saints of non-human creatures, somehow intervene in the pain and suffering of Gladys for her beloved monos. And Jesus, whoever and however you are, bring some kind of comfort to R&G as a couple. And Mary, the One I now talk to--La Morenita and all the Black Madonnas--I'm not sure about God these days. I KNOW God (however symbolic we use the word) was part of the life and joy of our creature neighbors who now only live in our memories. MUST write letter to Gladys and share my feelings. This is just too fucking much. And superstitious me says I MUST not say that for I'll be SHOWN too fucking much!!!

Well, My O My!

Gosh (how profound) I awoke this morning feeling better than I have in MONTHS! I am convinced it was airing all my shit so publicly I had this understanding AGAIN that if I am called to be ordained then I must get out there and DO the stuff I am called to do regardless. Well by tonight after waiting five hours in the dentist's office I don't have as much hope as I did this morning but I'm not the tragic mess I was last night. And it's not raining. And there are two yummy pineapples in the kitchen. Plus the website is up and going. That's good news, too! An accomplishment!!!

Much to think about

Bitching and Bitchin' There's been entirely too much going on lately and yet, on the other hand, it seems nothing gets done--at least nothing that is bringing me peace and/or contentment. I have my old restlessness that has not cycled since Holy Week of 1996 when I visited CDSP and interviewed for seminary. I'd run away if I could I think; but there's no place to run. There is no more "home" in the sense of family with my parents being dead and being the only child. I am not salaried and have no savings so I just can't "up and leave." And if I did, what would happen to a PROCESS!!! And I'm not sure where I'd want to go either. And yet I'm dangerously restless. Not a good thing; not a good place for me to be emotionaly. And what would happen to Kenny and the cats? It's worse, too, because peacebang (a blogger) is on holiday; the Sopranos and Big Love are over for the season and it's too hard to translate TV. I've consumed too many books and have been playing too much mahjong. But I've reallly been bitching and moaning and svetching WAY TOO MUCH--so much that even I am almost tired of me. And I am NEVER bored!! I'm not very happy with my husband these days. Most days I hate him and still love him but when I'm really into self-pity, I make myself forget the loving him part. Actually what I am is jealous--so RWC+ I guess that's mad/sad/fearful=jealousy, an emotion I'm not prone to feel. For the first time since I've been an Episcopalian there is no solace, comfort, inspiration, joy, love in the liturgy and experience. I was spoiled, too, having the churches of everybody and her/his cat. There are no Quakers, no Swedenborgians, no MCC's, no Church of St John Coltrane, no Orthodox to sit in clouds of incense; no Buddhists chanting anyplace. I'm back to yoga and contemplative prayer with earplugs so I'll have quiet (with ear pressure sores from jamming the ear plugs so deep in my ears to drown out the constant sounds of life all around). I am pea-green, eaten up with jealousy because my husband has children AND is ordained--and both were soo easy for him and I just hate him for that! Now the only other thing WORSE than Kenny NOT being ordained is if I'd been ordained and he'd been turned down; that would have been totally insufferable and I'd be more miserable than I am now. But I don't understand. I just do not understand why stuff isn't happening. And frankly my dear I do not like the rainy season. Ick. I'm pea green with envy with/toward Kenny because he has the two things/experiences/states of being in this world that I've hungered for my entire life: being a parent and being ordained. And for him both were like falling off a log--I often wonder if he appreciates any of these gifts that sends his wife sobbing to the shower at least once a day. 53 is a good age to be in a month; but being post-menopausal has hit me like a freight train--now there is NO chance of EVER having a baby. And it is devastating. It wasn't devastating at 35 or even 40 strangely; it was devastating at 22 just as at 52, now. Infertile women tell me this never goes away and I believed them before; their words resound so deeply within my heart and soul and gut and uterus in particular. I'm seriously pondering a kitten but I think that's displacement and not fair to our two gatos and not fair to a new gato. Being a priest was the ONLY consolation (not as in consolation prize but in a deeper redemptive sense of the greater world.)PS 113 was the verse that I'd hungered to hear for years and one day, in Lyn Bauman's church way back in the late 80's, we read this Psalm and I heard and saw it for the first time (cause we all know: how "bad" it was to be barren women in those days) 5 Who is like the LORD our God, the One who sits enthroned on high, 6 who stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth? 7 He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; 8 he seats them with princes, with the princes of their people. 9 He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the LORD. Sometimes (often times and even in the US when Nedi would do something really ohno liturgically or even when she didn't, it was all I could do not to run to the Table or ambo and just shove her aside and continue the liturgy--or better yet, start all over! aarrrrgghh) it is all I can stand to sit through one of Kenny's masses, my beloved husband, who criticised EVERYBODY"S liturgical style (except for Fr Dazzling--Louis Weil's) and now is just awful. I can't undertand it. I can't understand priests who do not practice in front of a mirror; I can't understand priests who don't rearrange the furniture; I can't understand priests who don't teach and have Bible study; I can't understand priests who don't go to the church and hang out in case anyone comes by; I can't understand priests who don't read the Daily Offices; I REALLY can't understand priests who don't have MP and EP and Noon Prayer every day! I thought that was what being a priest was all about. As I said about Nedi, there is just no excuse for bad liturgy. Speaking of which, has anyone else in their ordination process been wired? Yes, I wore a wire to every meeting of my committee except for the first one-when I realised I'd been thrown into a pit of vipers. (no offense to vipers, please). I had one committee member who NEVER came to church. This was the year the Sr Warden was (and still is) a Wiccan--no offense ot Wiccans, because I believe in the great power of Earth Centered religions and if there was a bunch of women here doing these rituals, I'd be out there at every full and dark moon and whatever happens on a solstice in this part of the world that sits practically on top of the eaquator) but it seems a bit much to have a Wiccan as the Sr Warden of an Episcopal Church. She made the BEST Kahlua cake in the entire world though. I mean I can barely make myself get thru the Nicene Creeed; how can a Wiccan say all that ONE GOD HE stuff?? I recorded EVERY meeting to keep myself from choking the committee leader who SCREAMED at me about Kibbie Ruth's teachings of safe clergy boundaries: I mean she got out of her chair and got in my face and screamed at me!! I also wore a wire to be sure I DID NOT tell her I would take her to Nordstrom's to be fitted for a bra siince "the girls" (who probably could have been quite lovely) were hangin to her knees and she was just too old and too big breasted to be going without lots of support. I know I come from po white trash but puh-leeze, I AM an Episcopalian and I always thought that the one thing one could be excommunicated for (besides this atrocious grammar) was using the wrong fork at dinner--but sister gal kept her mouth open as she chewed and food just spit everywhere and it was totally gross. I also did not want to ask why her husband (the OTHER big hoo hah of ordination process) didn't wash his hair! (Now I KNOW trhis is catty and petty but doesn't hygiene count for something? EEW GROSS!.....And the night I HAD to meet with these folks who were just mean and my process was one of the sickest examples of an empowered laity and my process was so much more about "what's wrong with St Aidan's and what's wrong with Nedi?" Now no one in her/his right mind is going to walk into THAT brier patch, Br'er Rabbit!!! No sirree bob! But the Inquisition that did it was: name your friends here at St Aidan's and tell us 3 stories about them; name three people you LIKE here and tell us 3 stories abot them; name the three people who DON"T like and tell us 3 stories about them. Tell us about the conflicts and disagreements you've had with Nedi, what they were about, what you said, what she said, and how they were resolved--if they were. I replied calmly No, No, No, No and No. But the night I resigned from the parish and the Episcopal Church I saw behind the curtain into the deep dark angry faces that were truly frightening...these suburban posing at urban parishioners who all speak quietly and softly and are so PC took off their masks and I saw rage and scary anger. It was wild. I take it back--there was one couple, both long time AA's who were not vicious and scary. But sadly on the nights when things got really bad, they were not there. I couuld go on and on with this because it's one of those unreal processes where people think you're just being an hysterical, lingering on women turned down by the process who never gets over it and has no other place to go because she is an Anglican/Episcopalian. I wish to God I could be something else. Because I tried; I REALLY tried--in a truly fabulous growing young new parish of mostly gay men and talk about heaven and it was! Good liturgy, good music, gorgeous men, great vestments, good food, fascinating members and visitors, social action, liberation theology and on and on. These good people ordained me a deacon and were going to priest me and my mama died and there I was, alone in MS, needing to connect and I realised I was a US Episcopalian and that is what I truly know I am--a US liberal Episcopalian. Here I am not sure I'm a Panamanian Episcopalian for the stuff I need is not here. And I have no power to change that because people want their padre not the padre's wife. I'd love to be teaching Godly Play but I can't get the padre to make it okay. I'd love to be teaching a Bible class or a class on Anglicanism and I can't get the padre to open the door for me to make it happen and without his okay and his presence at times, it will NOT happen. And I feel betrayed and useless and wonder where I can find just one more Quaker or when the RC"s pray the Rosary--cause I'd be there! God bless the good bishop for moving me to the Church of Saint Glenda so I don't have to attempt an ordination process in "my husband's church." And maybe Kenny and I can be nice to one another on Sundays when I'm not viperishly sniping at his liturgy, sermon, religious ed, and on and on--the endless litany of "what I would do if I were priest." The first thing I'd do is have ALL said services until we can sing and learn some hyms that MIGHT have something to do with the liturgy instead of the seven horrible hymns that we DO know. I have nightmares that Fr Dazzling will show up and somehow I'll feel responsible for horrid liturgy and dreadful music. Ugh. Liberal Quakers really appeal to me on Sundays after trying to sing through bad hymnody and no musician. There are no on-line sand trays either for therapy long-distance. No acupuncturists, no Rolfers, no Long's Drugs, no organic anything, no Michelle, no film, and this weird new learning experience of the Divine and what I am about and how I am to get my spiritual needs met here. And hoping and praying that some day our relationship--the Kenny and oonagh one--will be good again and we'll have hot sex again. Sigh. My godstuff is changing but my images of who and how God is are changing rapidly and I read about emerging churches and all this new stuff and here I am, with all my creativity, stuck in the 1940 fucking hymnal (that does not even have Jerusalem, for Christ's sake!) Tell me again, why did I want to come here again???? Oh, because I am so impetulous and impulsvie and impossible and impatient! Being connected with a woman friend, a gay friend, a church community, someplace truly private would be absolute heaven. Maybe learning Spanish will help SOMETHING. And this vulnerability of an ordiination process is terrifying. And Rusty and George are soo far away. I guess it's community I miss. We/I have no community. The expats here live a very affluent life; I've not met one with a compatible social justice connection or ANY connection. And we N Americans need to analyse and bitch just soo much that it seems ridiculous to enter into a conversation with a Panamanian about any of this; it does not translate. It would be great to be in school again and/or to have the structure of work. And to have a salary would be over the top! I miss Robert and Ann and I worry so about Robert. I miss school and learning and being a part of the new stuff happening and all the great classes. I'd stay in school forever if I could get it funded! Maybe Michelle will play the big CA lotteries for me. I miss joining Eddie at the Jeb house for lunch and wine. I miss Eddie. I miss gay men, especially OUT gay men and Lord, I miss drag queens!!! and the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. I miss Rainbeau because of Rainbeau and because I'd love a great haircut again! Shit. Shaun would be blasting me really good about being a victim and not fitting in to be ordained--or not fittin to be ordained! And perhaps I really canNOT be ordained because I am not wealthy, do not come from an old family or old money or new money, for that matter. I have no Episcopal connections who will speak up and speak out for me. I am smart but not academically brilliant nor liturgically brilliant and academia forced me to write in such a way that my passion for the Church and liturgy were never expressed--so I guess no one ever knew--because I'm so shy and was so terrified and was always trying to be soo good and quiet and invisible--never knowing how to act or smooze or what good questions to ask--that I was just an ordinary student with flaming red hair who was sick so much. Sigh. And then all the deaths and all the falling in love. The falling in love part was wonderful but the deaths of both parents was too much. Couldn't finish my thesis because of it either. So there goes academic whatever. Shit. Did I ever telll anyone but Jude that the liturgy is my life, my love, my place, my home, my peace, my challenge, my place for consolation and strength? No. Did I have the adequate seminarian vocabulary in which to say it? No. And of course everyday speak is not seminary acceptable. Fuck. How can one get Seasonal Affective Disorder in a place where the sun shines everyday? Maybe it's my Irish genes that need gloom and cold and fog and mizzly rain and a reason to wear a sweater AND a coat! Okay, Shaun, I hear you: whininig is unacceptable, unbecoming, unappreciated, unfit, unappealing, unproductive, unjustifiable, unbearable, insophisticated, unwarranted, unbelievable, un-called-for, uncivilised, unpleasant, uncouth, undesirable, unnecessisary, unsociable, undiscriminating, uninterestiing, unmannerly, and so forth. O and a sushi bar and Martuni's and Thai food and Fong's for breakfast. There MUST be some neo-pagans here to join for moon howling. And no decent lube and certainly no GV, no Stormy Leather (the idea of leather and latex makes me too hot to even think about). How does one fetish leather and latex in the tropics? inquiring minds want to know..... O, meow and hiss

As Lost as a liberal Anglo-Catholic feminist goddess-worshipping Anglican in Panama during the Triduum

last night, KRK was working on the last-minute Easter VIgil, which came to be because I bitched so much about having NONE of my spiritual needs met; that I was relying on what I knew of Quakers and contemplative prayer--and had been writing Mennonites begging them to come and send LOTS of volunteers!!!!!!--we heard this SINGING/CHANTING...i thought GOD, it's the Jumpy-Jumpies next door and they sound like R. Catholics..what a GREAT country!! WELL, the chant kept coming and then, in the darkness of one street lamp way down at the other end of the street, we saw all of this LIGHT!! CANDLES!! and a great big ole tony soprano kind of pick-up truck, brand new!! and people walking alongside. THEN there was this glass "coffin'd" and dead as a doornail lily white Jesus being carried in procession by these Ngobe-dressed women and girls--Ngobe dresses of white, trimmed in red (what I use for my cassock and surplice is a black and white dress and for red days, I wear the red one), carrying flowers and singing like castrati angels!! and this whole group of folks, men and women, were carrying this dead Jesus. THEN THE REAL MUSIC came!!!! Santa Maria, REGINA, QUEEN OF HEAVEN being carried in procession by this HUGE crowd of candles and chant and flowers....I fell to my knees as my mouth fell into perpetual gape. I ran upstairs and grabbed the first pair of flip flaps i could find and ran out after. NEVER have i been so gawked at!! i was the ONLY anglo-like person and i am the episcopadre's wife and here i was, singing all this Latin and Spanish Mary stuff and I do not think my eyes ever left the back of Mary's head until they turned her around in the church about forty minutes later, when we all got there...it was long after 10PM and the moon is full. We crossed over this little bridge into "Patois town" where for about a half a second, Almirante looks like Venice, Central America, with all the little boats and houses along the waterside. You only want to live there at night if the wind is right and the smell doesn't get you, but you really want to live there REALLY BAD because it is gorgeous in the moonlight of my romantic Irish, RC'gene'd brain. Have you ever noticed that the same plastic form that makes a Mary is the same one that makes the Jesus. From the back, one cannot tell them apart; well, okay, her hair IS longer and her robes are blue, but that's about it!! Mary is Jesus in drag??? Hmm, I think it's vice-versa; He's the drag-king!! I kept thinking Jesus is dead; he died and was reborn. BUT THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN NEVER DIES: MARY NEVER DIED: she just got zapped "up" whole and intact!!!!! The chanted rosary went on and on and on. By this time, so many folks had dragged back gawking and pointing at me that I was much closer to Mary and even the guards didn't bother me--but you could tell they wanted to--but I kept my hands folded out before me in High Church Anglo-Catholic style and kept my eyes glued to Mary's crown, bobbing along, being carried over the shoulders and heads of the crowd. Jesus' little glass box coffin was all lighted; Mary has cat eyes; she sees in the dark I laughed as I remembered El Hunko Father Eddie's comment of being "as lost as a Jesuit during Holy Week" and I thought that I had my own version of that expression--as depressed and sad as a High Church, Anglo-Catholic, feminist, goddess worshipping Anglican in Latin America during Holy Week!!!! We reached the church and Mary and Jesus were processed in--she forever young and virginal and just a tad bit pregnant--and he, deader than dead. The third white-skinned person of that Trinity was I and it felt really really weird. I wanted bronze paint for their exposed skin and Jesus wouldn't mind. He's dead and really looked it, all Snow White in his glass coffin as if Teresa little flowers' body was being processed. He laid to rest in LILAC and LAVENDER tulle!!!! She lit up by a flashlight that caused her crown, hands and heart to glow. I am serious; it was great RC magic!!! And the prayers went on. By this time, I'd pushed my way to the window and kinda "came to" as I realised I was pushing myself into the church. Thank God, that by then, the prayers and singing were over and people had begun to leave. I was the last person out; Padre and Sister whoever were staring and whispering to themselves, wondering I guess, just who the hell I was. Back across the bridge of a second and a half of Venice and the long walk home. OKAY, MUST GO NOW and die Easter eggs Magdalene red and blow Easter eggs and paint those shells glitter red and gold. I am also making five different flavors of deviled eggs for tonight and for the morning. SInce eggs here are NOT refrigerated, I am going to Changuinola where at least, the grocery store, has a tad of a/c!!!

In love with an inanimate object

I rarely LOVE, have devotion to inanimate objects--particuarly those that are new and mechanical. I've loved only two bicycles in my life--one a yellow French racer, purchased used--and the other Bianchi-red seated and handled Bianchi green bike I bought in Berkeley. I've loved only one car in my life, a school-bus yellow VW convertible. I loved my titanium Mac--now dead. But we just had a new airconditioner installed in the bedroom--and the original a-c moved to the guest room. I LOVE THE NEW AIR CONDITIONER!!!!! It looks nothing like an airconditioner; it looks more like a car's dashboard. It's way up high and out of the way. It's very quiet with a great soft sound like wind or rain. It's got this kinda friendly "look" about it, not unlike some kind of plain but friendly robot. AND it has a remote control!!! Which sent me into peals of laughter when I first saw it. I could not imagine an air conditioner with a remote control! But I lived for the last ten years in a place requiring no air conditioning, so I am definitely up on the latest. I know that I am truly in love with this device's techo-magic of dehumidity and cool. It's little fan flap moves up and down and I do not know why it does NOT remind me of the cameras in Belfast, but it doesn't. When evil Chiquita is running full blast and the newest loved inanimate, technomagic creature cannot talk to me, I feel very sad. and also miserably hot. Too bad solar power cannot run an A-C!! That would be sheer Panama heaven!!!

RC's and Episcos in Panama

Last night, KRK+ was working on the last-minute Easter VIgil, which came to be because I bitched so much about having NONE of my spiritual needs met--I was relying on what I knew of Quakers and contemplative prayer--and have been writing Mennonites begging them to come here for the town and for me--and to PLEASE send LOTS of volunteers!!!!!! We heard this SINGING/CHANTING--beautiful, lots of voices, and LOUD, too!!...I thought GOD, it's the Jumpy-Jumpies next door and they sound like R. Catholics..what a GREAT country!! WELL, the chant kept coming and then, in the darkness of one street lamp way down at the other end of the street, we saw all of this LIGHT!! CANDLES!! and a great big ole Tony Soprano kind of pick-up truck, brand new!! and people walking alongside. THEN there was this glass "coffin'd" and dead as a doornail lily white Jesus being carried in procession by these Ngobe-dressed women and girls--Ngobe dresses of white, trimmed in red (what I use for my cassock and surplice is a black and white dress and for red days, I wear the red one), carrying flowers and singing like castrati angels!! and this whole group of folks, men and women, were carrying this dead Jesus. THEN THE REAL MUSIC came!!!! Santa Maria, REGINA, QUEEN OF HEAVEN being carried in procession by this HUGE crowd of candles and chant and flowers....I fell to my knees as my mouth fell into perpetual gape. I ran upstairs and grabbed the first pair of flip flaps i could find and ran out after. NEVER have i been so gawked at!! I was the ONLY Anglo-like person and i am the Episcopadre's wife and here I was, singing all this Latin and Spanish Mary stuff and I do not think my eyes ever left the back of Mary's head until they turned her around in the church about forty-five minutes later, when we all got there...It was long after 10PM and the moon is full. We crossed over this little bridge into "Patois town" where for about a half a second, Almirante looks like Venice, Central America, with all the little boats and houses along the waterside. You only want to live there at night if the wind is right and the smell doesn't get you, but you really want to live there REALLY BAD because it is gorgeous in the moonlight of my romantic Irish, RC-gene'd brain. Have you ever noticed that the same plastic form that makes a Mary is the same one that makes the Jesus? I am convinced this is so and this is not the first time I've thought it--I had a LONG look at a long time to ponder this Holy Cross-dressing statue bidness. From the back, one cannot tell them apart; well, okay, her hair IS longer and her robes are blue, but that's about it!! Mary is Jesus in??? Hmm, I think it's vice-versa; He's the drag-king!! I kept thinking Jesus is dead; he died and was reborn. BUT THE QUEEN OF HEAVEN NEVER DIES: MARY NEVER DIED: she just got zapped "up" whole and intact!!!!! NOW whos' the real "Queen" in Heaven? The chanted rosary went on and on and on. By this time, so many folks had dragged back gawking and pointing at me that I was much closer to Mary and even the guards didn't bother me--but you could tell they wanted to--but I kept my hands folded out before me in High Church Anglo-Catholic style and kept my eyes glued to Mary's crown, bobbing along, being carried over the shoulders and heads of the crowd. Jesus' little glass box coffin was all lighted; Mary has cat eyes; she sees in the dark! Gato, mee-see queen of the full moon of Pashka. I laughed as I remembered Gorgeous Father Eddie's comment of being "as lost as a Jesuit during Holy Week" and I thought that I had my own version of that expression--as despondent as a High Church, Anglo-Catholic, feminist, goddess worshipping Anglican in Latin America during Holy Week!!!! We all reached the church and Mary and Jesus were processed in (there were nuns with and without knees, all in white polyester which made me itch and the church is gorgeous...all this wood inside where we have only conrete--even the Table is concrete on the Island--it is REALLY a tomb, not a T/table and it drives me nuts!! And there is Mary--forever young and virginal and just a tad bit pregnant--and he, deader than dead. The third white-skinned person of that Trinity was I and it felt really really weird. I wanted bronze paint for their exposed skin and Jesus wouldn't mind. He's dead and really looked it, all Snow White in his glass coffin as if Teresa LittleFflowers' body was being processed. He laid to rest in LILAC and LAVENDER tulle!!!! She lit up by a flashlight that caused her crown, hands and heart to glow. I am serious; it was great RC magic!!! ...And the prayers went on. By this time, I'd pushed my way to the window and kinda "came to" as I realised I was pushing myself into the church. Thank God, that by then, the prayers and singing were over and people had begun to leave. I was the last person out; Padre and Sister whoever were staring and whispering to themselves, wondering I guess, just who the hell I was. Back across the bridge of a second and a half of Venice and the long walk home to boring, horrible singing, ten people at most Episcodom with no statues. At least we have incense. But I was so incensed! I wanted to be back in San Francisco at Christ the Queen, Church of the Advent. I want Jesuits and Franciscans here surrounding me, sitting around laughting and talking and drinking good Scotch. I know Obispo Julio says that "A Jesuit is a totally different animal than any Roman Catholic priest in Central America" and I would somewhat agree. Except they got it "right" last night, just right. None of the black Christ bloody knees but this really glorious and wonderful procession all over town...Loved ones, out walking their dead. I am from the US South; I understand ancestor worship. And I love the Kuna Creation story better than the Genesis one. OKAY, MUST GO NOW and die Easter eggs Magdalene red and blow Easter eggs and paint those shells glitter red and gold. I am also making five different flavors of "deviled" eggs (I wonder how that translates theologically in terms of this Easter business) for tonight and for the morning. SInce eggs here are NOT refrigerated, I am going to Changuinola where at least, the grocery store, has a tad of air conditioning!!! Not Your Usual Missionary Position

For What We Must Answer

The sacred cows of India have been imported here for meat. Does anyone but me find this odd and awful?

Bananas: Why I Hate Chiquita

I feel as if I'm living in "Hitlerville." The trains run at night. I hear their clanking and their whistles. The trucks run night and day and especially throughout the night. I can hear the containers being loaded and unloaded at the dock. The whistles blow from the dock as if we are really a company town; the "Company" moved out of here a few years ago and left folks TOTALLY without work. When I was here in 01, I hated the "Company" because of atrocious working conditions; sucky benefits; horrendous hours; chemicals and pesticides with exposure to the "disposables"--mostly First Peoples who do the very basic work. All this moving of bananas from the community just north of us (where the company has moved its headquarters, complete with luxurious houses and a GOLF COURSE--membership is more exclusive than any country club!) has a really evil feel--perhaps it's that so much of this happens at night, under cover of darkness. One night we happened to be outside and there was this really creepy black train that looked and smelled evil. I've not seen it since and no one talks about it. No one knows what it carries. Workers process bananas without gloves or masks. If one attempts to talk with the workers, the supervisor will send you away--with a guard carrying a serious machine gun--pointed at you--locked and loaded, too!! The supervisors will not talk to you either. No one will identify the chemicals and pesticides that have poisoned our water, air, soil. Crop dusters fly the deadly agents overhead. Our community has a great number of folks with schizophrenia-like behavior and illnesses. Bananas are not indigenous to here. They were brought by another "Company" back in the late 1800's. And the history is a complex one for the folks here. My first look at a banana plantation brought tears to my eyes and I saw red...as far as you can see, there are banana plants/trees wearing blue plastic bags around the bananas--they look not unlike huge, used, blue, condoms dripping from the trees like some fiendish decoration. These bananas destroyed acres and hectares upon acres and hectares of rainforest and jungle. Union is not a nice word here. Remember when you eat a non-organic banana, that it is fertilised by the blood of workers, trying to make a better life for themselves by asking for a union, killed and disappeared into the fields, as a sign to others. Disposable people working 12 to 16 hours a day for several dollars a day, with no health care, and no concern for safety. I'm from the US South and I know a plantation when I see one; I know the evils of plantation life and they are here. The "Company" IS a plantation; its worst fruit is the weird dependency and helplessness of a company, of "Massa" doing "good" for the slave, the poor black man, the poorer brown man. When our first power bill came, it was to "The Company"--Chiquita. I screamed! This is the "Company" who cuts off the power and water to at least two villages and towns--sometimes four hours a day; sometimes for DAYS. One pays as if the power was on all the time. People don't need potable water; children don't need lights for school and study because we gotta get those bananas loaded on those ships to send to Europe...for that's where our bananas go.... As we search for donations for alternative sources of energy; as we all save for a generator for the parish; as we search for ideas for the creation of cottage industries; as we try to educate our children--the power runs for bananas. The "machine shop" and the "power plant" are about half a block from our home. It is as montrous as the Black Train. It looks like The Borg. One rarely sees a human being and usually those humans are uniformed and armed with those ever-present machine guns. The gates are locked and bolted and no one is allowed in, even to see. There is a section of the plant that strikes terror somewhere deep within me. I know I have a vivid imagination; I also know I am an empath and I feel and hear within my body the screams of workers tortured in this place. Really, it looks more terrifying than any image of a concentration camp I've ever seen. It is dark; everything is rusting metal; there is constant rumbling, clanging, echoes, and reverberations--and no people. Cats don't go there; neither do dogs; and only vultures perch on the top of the building. It's perfect for the horror movie that is real life here. Today we had a community meeting to talk about the situation of power, water, work, etc. We were met by uniformed and suited government officials; we were met by militia types, guards, and police all puffed up with their angry dangerous macho'd fingers slipping with sweat on their triggers. I say the meetings have to go underground, into the churches, into homes like in the US during the Civil Rights years. Who will speak for these people? Who will help? Who will put the word out? Who will start the boycott? Because I'm ready to begin daily prayer vigils outside every Chiquita building and production site I can find--and there are many. The Padre says nothing to my suggestion but I know he is worried and concerned and that he is praying and planning. We need Jesuits, Franciscans, Pace e Bene, Greenpeace, and anybody else who can stop this violence. People here want to work. They want decent lives for their children--education, health care, clean air/water/soil, food. This is not the US of endless consumption. This is beyond any Union activity I've ever been involved--The evils of the Marriott look almost decent in comparison. Perhaps it is so ominous and overwhelming because one sees the land here; one sees the water; the soil; breathes the air. One sees the deforestation for even more bananas, growing for The Company and growing a mold that requires more and more toxins. Tyson, the nuclear weapons industries, and the military are equivalent evils. I dream of the Black Train; I have nightmares where I hear the voices from the field crying out. I hear children crying from hunger. I see this community in black and white and gray. It IS a concentration camp.

Children at the Table

Last night, we had a great number of youth, children, and babies at St George's. Kenny, stricken with kidney stones--I guess he is that pissed off--would not address my request to invite youth to come celebrate. So I the vicar's wife--meek and mild, ever cooking, even cleaning, ever dutiful in caring for my spouse the priest (NOT!!!), got a little girl about five or six and invited her to the Table when the women tell me I am to go "help" KRK and be the deacon or something (tra la)....So I put my arms around hers and she did ALL the gestures with KRK and she helped me with the chalice. She returned to her seat and began to weep. I got dirty looks from Padre, but when I talked to her mom and her auntee and her sisters, she was crying because of the "Holy Things" she'd been doing...she got it and was overwhelmed! Her mother comes from a long line of Anglicans/Episcopalians and she, in tears, said, "I've never seen anyone do that." I told her of our experiences in two parishes where children were often or ALWAYS present at the Eucharistic Prayers. So I plan to continue this... LO! and behold, I discovered when she and I and her mother were going to extinguish candles, that she is the neice of one of my most favorite parishioners, one of those mighty Smiths who can perform miracles with two Panamanian women! Then I cried! It was one of those moments that make church for me. Her wee little brother, recently baptised, took wine on his mom's finger--which sent the rest of the parishioners into intinction (eye roll); he was outside during the Eucharistic prayer having a yelling spell. His mom could not believe I meant his voice--at whatever volume--was welcome. Otherwise I'd had HIM at the table, too! making gestures and crossing himself! So thank you Lou Lou and Miss L for all your love of children at the Table. And thank you faux-priest, Madre Caroline, for your work in children's services! Godly Play starts Lent I

The Littlest Mono

Here at the rectory, we have prayers going 24 hours a day...our neighbors littlest mono (monkey) is ill. He has a bite that got infected. Our housekeeper Santa Elvia, KRK, the gatos, and I are keeping vigil and we go out and check on the wee one at least ten times a day. The littlest mono is on antibiotics and his human companions are devoted and his companion/amigo mono is also worried and misses him terribly when they are not together in their casa. I've moved the St Francis statue near the monos and that's where it will stay. I SHOULD go out and take pictures of the cappucinos, shouldn't I? Their human R did not go to church last night because he was providing mono care. I say he was DOING church so he didn't need to go. All our hearts would be broken is something happened to our mono primos. Please, God of Creation and Lover of all Creatures--especially gatos, dolphins, and monos, heal your wee one and return her to play and playfulness and wholeness. Bless the care of their human companions. Thank you, Francis and Jesus and Mary and Brigid.

Why I am an Episcopalian

I'm an Episcopalian because I'm a sensual being and because I like sex and because I think God is sexy. Well, it USED to be that many Episcos felt this way before we all got soo tight-assed and conservative and tedious. Who do you think has been our priests since forevah? Straight men? Oh, sure, SOME, but the C/church would NEVER have lasted this long without our Gay and Lesbian siblings. I've always believed that convents, monasteries, nunneries, and the like were ESPECIALLY created as places for same-gender folk to experience love--in whatever way they saw fit to act as God called. Sure, I believe there are people called to celibacy, but it's a calling for Christ's sake! And who really knows what Jesus did with HIS genitals? I mean REALLY! IF the Myers-Briggs folk say that Jesus would have been an XXXX, then doesn't that somehow follow that Jesus would have been bi? I know I was not raised on Thomasine logic so there are many steps of therefores left out in that bold statement, but come on! who cares? I mean really? I do think, as Annie Dillard says, "God does not, I regret to report, give a hoot." But all that talk of the Body of Christ over and over and all the incense and music and chant and the back and forth dialogue--not to mention the delightful thoughts of sex and sexiness that MUST go through other people's heads besides mine when I'm in church--the Kiss of Peace, the hand-holdings, the intimacies of touch of healing/unction, ashes on Ash Wednesday, candles, smells of beeswax and years of tears, sweat, smelling salts, fragrance, incense, wood rot, and termites (as my mother used to describe the cathedral in MS)--the sweet sweet wine on the tongue, the yeastiness of bread mixed with honey or even the fish food of wafers melting. And of course the Beauty of Episcopal/Anglican churches and the Beauty of all sorts of people and the Beauty of the outdoors when we welcome it in from non-stained glass or open doors and windows as we do here 9 degrees N in Paradise. And all our liturgy stuff IS sexy, when it is well-done--and delicious when it's Louis Weil-Lizette Larson Miller well done, that's just too too much yummy! HOWEVER I MUST say that THE sexiest church I've ever experienced happend here about 3 months ago when every Latin American bishop and his/her cat came for some big doo-dah meeting. It was pouring rain and the cathedral was pouring rain onto costly hot vestments. So the ooh ooh sticky part was already there. But THEN the dancers--ALL the kinds of Panamanian dances--came and there were lots of gorgeous young bodies shimmying and that was lovely--I'm not so turned on by youthful bodies--it's the older ones that get me goin. But anyway, all that undulation of hips of whatever age and gender was wonderful. But that was mere foreplay. And then. OH GOD, Sweet Heavenly Jesus! The African Dance Troupe leader danced the Gospel book barefooted--someone told me it was conga. THEN and THEN she and the bishop (who is truly a beautiful human being) did this back and forth ting that made me slide off my pew I was so aroused!! FINALLY the bishop took the gospel book--I was about to have to leave and go find the Hitachi wand--and THEN danced it to read, which helped to calm me down some. And I was sitting next to the bishop's wife, who is the TRUE hottie in the family as far as I'm concerned...she's one of those women you just find you want to fall intoo--and I'm a straight woman. No, I don't lust for the lovely Anita; it's not a genital ting, but she is just luscious. Well, I couldn't help myself. I leaned over and said, "What time does that plane leave in the morning?" and she told me 6 and I suggested that she mess with the time so Obispo Hunko would miss his plane! Lordy Jesus, Help Me! If we could do that EVERY Sunday, we'd turn Rome on its ear! The only thing missing were out and out gay men! I mean they are THERE but do they know that I know? Do THEY even know? Do they know I'd be thrilled to have gay men in the rectory and talk with gay men and hear their stories! Oh, I DO miss them sooo here 9 Degreees North in Paradise. May the day come quickly when we celebrate ALL of our gender ways of lovin and bein as God made us! Menopausal hot flashes, heat, humidity, dance, music, good wine, good bread--all that--was more than I could possibly bear. I wanted to grab my beloved and just throw him on the floor! But that might have been too much!!! We ARE the frozen chosen, after all!!! But there's nothing like good church to get me in the mood! I'm all for daily eucharist here. Papi, Esposo would be fucked several times a day I believe if we had daily Eucharist. I've always been one for the sweat and the funk. But my dream sweat and funk has never been in HEAT. It's always in COLD where we sweat and get all funky! I'm having to learn to BEGIN in the funk. We installed three bidets in the 3 bathrooms because I always feel soo well smelly. And I was raised in MS and have never been bothered by the odor of my body before but this is too much! Don't drink enough water and it's awful. Drink TOO much water and it's not good either. Weird. That my body's odors all ripe ALL THE TIME are not pleasant, even to me. Soo it's good to know that there is ALWAYS more to learn about sex....NOW if we can just figure out how to hang the leather sling swing chair so that the damned rectory doesn't fall in on top of us! And the bed--a queen size--is being made and will be ready upon our return to Cedar Creek. And we get a new mattress. I am soo excited!!! Misquito netting and a new bed. My Oh My! And the new Susie Bright!! Okay, I'm dying NOW. Where IS that man? Screw that sermon!!!