Travis was 25 blocks south when he needed to be 10 blocks north.

There was not a thing familiar and he knew he was lost.

He saw the OPEN sign and walked right in.

We had just finished gratitudes when the first petition walked in the door.

"I'm sorry to barge in, but I'm looking for north 13th street and I think this is south 13th, I'm all turned around and don't know how to get where I'm goin."

He was skinny,  sweaty, strung out, and talking Deep South. His ball cap was backwards, his skin was a mess and his belt was pulled tight holding up the too big pants.

We continued worship with attention to giving directions. He asked for water, water was given. He was a little frantic at the idea of being so off course. The directions we gave him were clearly not making much sense to him. He thanked us for the directions and the drink and went out to retrace his many steps.

We were a literal handful of women. I looked at the pastor and said "This is safe, right? I'm gonna drive him." She said "Go." (that's how we do discernment at FFC)

I followed him out.

"Son!" He turned. "You clean and sober this morning?"
"Yes, Ma 'am!  three whole days!"
"You got anything like a weapon on you?"
"No Ma 'am! I came up here to get away from all that!"

"Okay, let's get my car - I'll take you where you are going"
"Oh! Thank-you, Ma 'am!  I 'priciate this, I do!"

He was lately of the State of Mississippi. Came to a cousin's house to start over. 

I told him my name, and it immediately became Miss Peggy.

He was talkin a mile a minute. "The house numbers kept gettin bigger - that shoulda been my clue. Somebody told me that golden man there on the capital was solid gold - No? - plate huh? I figured as much. Say - Was that a church meeting I just walked into?  Yes? Well, what kinda church IS that?"

I told him we were Quakers.

"We don't have much of that down home, Baptists mostly.
But Miss Peggy, If you were willing to leave church to help a lost man find his way, I guess y'all must be some kinda Christians!"

We found his cousin's house. He God blessed me up one side and down the other.

"Say a prayer for me, when you get back, ok?"

We did.

 


 

I am in need of 3 Early Readers for my soon to be published (and as yet untitled) narrative theology.

It is a quick, light read, 200 pages. There are lots of Motorcycles, Quixotic adventures, and a few horses and Quakers. Angels, both the Hell's variety and the regular kind appear.

I need three people who can read the manuscript on a screen, within two weeks and give some general impressions and maybe answer a few questions. (If the readers I want turn out to be paper only - I will print and mail copies)

Rule Outs: The right individuals will NOT be Quakers. They will NOT have previously read any of my stuff. They will NOT be academics.

I have three specific profiles. I do not want them to be married or living in the same household.

Reader #1  Female, 35-60, Evangelical or Fundamental Christian. A regular church attender. She likely reads faith based adventure lit, missionary stories and biographies of spunky gals. If she lives east of the Rockies, that is a plus. If she is not white that is a double plus. 
  
Reader #2 Male  35-60 NOT a regular church attender, but not anti-religion. Working or lower middle class. Blue collar a plus. Likes/rides motorcycles and/or horses. Veteran a plus. In recovery a plus. Reads non-fiction and historical fiction.

Reader #3 Any Gender 20-35.  Deity friendly, but not church attending. Active. Not educated beyond a BA. Reads ebooks, comic books and is pop-culture aware.

The readers get a free book when it comes out and buckets of gratitude. The person who recruits the right reader will also get a free book.


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I don't ask for much, do I.
 

Hero of the Faith

Johnny Weir

Well, the Olympics are almost over.  The US lost Hockey and Putin lost the Ukraine.

Johnny says that showing up and being extra special flamboyant was not a political statement.  That he is just being himself. But when they are doing this outside



Well then, just being yourself, can make a statement.
Especially when yourself is as fabulous as this.







Somedays, being yourself is heroic.
And The Faith says that everyone gets to be what they are called to be.


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Well, it was a celebration day. The recording of Ashley M Wilcox as a minister of the Gospel. The outcome of the business was not really in doubt. That is not where we get our serendipity at FFC.

We are spoiled with a history of God-made moments. The unexpected visitor.  The unexpected vocal ministry.  Most meetings get these. At FFC they tend to be just a bit alternative . 

This morning a gentleman walked up the boulevard into the meeting. Six foot or better. Strong looking. Long blond  locks flowing straight back from his face, piercing blue eyes below a broad, square forehead, a long, straight, noble nose and a full beard. Dressed in normal Friday casual except for the ladies polyester skirt. He seemed at ease and at home in the worship service. He nodded sagely when Joe Synder spoke the disciple's anguished Query, "Where else would we go Lord, you have the everlasting word of life!"  He smiled when Vail Palmer reader from the letter to the Ephesians. He sang with us and prayed with us. It was a beautiful meeting.

At the rise of the meeting I  welcome him and chatted. This is how he introduced himself.

"I'm trying to get to all the churches. I heard about some women who had a 'wear pants to church day' among the Mormons. I heard that they received death threats for their protest. That bothered me a great deal and so I decided to dress in a skirt, because Jesus had no seam between his legs, and I decided to go to all the churches and let them know that God loves us all and that the second commandment that we love each other is the only thing that matters. And that this is what Jesus, God or not, would want us to do." He had other things to say, and he was very impressed with what he said was his first Quaker meeting.  He loved our concept of ministry. When I told him that we had  recorded women to the ministry since the 1600's, he said. "It did seem like you had received the memo." 

I asked him if he ate pie. "Of course, who doesn't eat pie?" He chose the Cherry.  He smiled at us taking pictures and laughed when I called the assembled photogs "Quaker Paparazzi." And he walked out without saying goodby. His signature in the guest book is undecipherable, but he said his name was Erik.

The name Erik is a Danish name. In Danish the meaning is: Ever kingly.

Just another Sunday morning at Freedom Friends. 

Update: Here is Erik Kulick, Aka cross-dressing Mormon Jesus 

There are some things that I was taught as a child to understand literally, which I no longer understand that way. I do not think that Noah got polar bears onto a boat. I do not think that all this around us was made in seven, twenty-four hour days. But some things - some very important things - I do still understand that way.

I do believe He was resurrected. Bodily. On the third day.

I will always believe this.

For many reasons,but foundationally, fundamentally, deal-breakingly because I will not betray the women.

All the Gospels say that Magdalen and a few other women were the first witnesses. Mark, the first writer says that they were not believed. Matthew leaves that little shame out. John inserts Peter and most likely himself into the story and does not mention incredulity . Luke tries to make amends. Luke is interesting. Tradition says he was a physician in Antioch. Tradition says that Antioch is where Mary, His mother fled. Luke has stories, like the birth story, that are women's stories.

Luke says that "Their words seemed like non-sense (idle tales) and they believed them not."

They were not legal witnesses - no woman was.

What a betrayal that must have been, or maybe they were just used to it.

The Eleven must have felt embarrassed a short time later. I hope they apologized.
Well I guess some of them did. The earliest writer put it in the story. It would have been so easy to forget. To erase. Matthew and John seemed to do so. But Luke was not letting them get away with it. He put the radical, groundshaking witnesses in the story, and he documented the shame of their brothers. If you were cleaning up a myth to make people look good, you would take that bit out. The fact that Luke leaves that in has the ring of truth. It is making amends, which always comes out of a place of truth

Others could have erased it later. But no one did.  Not the first tellers of the story, or the first writers, or the the sucessive copiers.

The Nicene Council  - Patriarchs all - chose to believe the women, and document their witness and leave in the shame.

And for two millennial no Pope or Patriarch, potentate or preacher has been able to wipe those women out of the story. No one has had the nerve. Until lately.

I will not discredit the voice of Magdalen, nor her spiritual mothers and sisters.
I will not stand with the unbelieving brothers, the skeptics.
I will not turn them into metaphor, or allegory or hagiography.

I will not let my modernist sensibilities black ball their words in shadow - Less than other words, even the words of the Master.

I won't make them smaller. Their part has been shrunk enough.
I won't discount them. They are already a bargain.

I know what it is like to not be believed when telling the Gospel Truth.
I also know what it is like to create metaphor, and allegory, and hagiography.
I have told tales and sold nonsense. I, a story teller, know the difference.

These women told the most important truth ever told.

And if their witness is  discounted in my presence, I will not be silent.

Because I believe them. Quite Literally.


A poem for the Apostola Apostolorum












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