Young Voices

My parents are celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary on Monday. In the same vein as other recent milestones, my parents do their best to invite everyone and throw a big party. We had a huge celebration when they each turned 50, 55, 60, 65 and even 70 for my father a few years ago. We have tons of food -- no, really, Filipinos have enough food to ensure that everyone there would be able to eat for days, just in case an earthquake broke out and we all were stuck there together -- entertainment that only "American Idol" or "The Voice" can rival, and many, many stories.

What strikes me the most is how integral the church is to my parents' story.

A day after news broke of Trayvon Martin's death, I was walking to the bus. On my way, I passed a neighbor. It was drizzling so we both had our hoodies up. The striking difference, though, is that my neighbor is a young black man, and I'm not.

The moment literally stopped me in my tracks, stopped me in the cloud of obliviousness that creeps up when my privilege goes unchecked for too long.

This is the second in a three-part series examining the theological ideas of Søren Kierkegaard through the work of three contemporary church critics. The first part can be found here.

To me, the most memorable voice in the St. John's Passion has always been that of Pontius Pilate. After struggling fruitlessly to undo the inevitability of Christ's death, confronted with the real certainty of executing the world's most innocent person, Pilate is shaken to the core. He is left clinging to one existential question: "What is truth?"

I have a confession. I don't just fall in love with people -- I also fall in love with ideas, often those that promote liberation. I see a woman in church leadership and I swoon.

As an undergraduate, I drooled over books by Carter Heyward, one of the first Episcopal women ordained in the 1970s. I would read a page and my heart would skip a beat.

During those college years, I took all but one of my religion courses with a beloved woman professor who wore a shirt adorned with the cosmos and talked of female images of God. In graduate school, Kwok Pui Lan lectured during a course and influenced my understanding of Christianity forever.

It was the same with the Anglican chaplain at the university in England where I was studying. She led morning prayer, preached on Sundays and coordinated a healing ministry.

This is what women in the Catholic church could be?

There was no denying it. I was smitten with the potential for women's liberation in the church.

This is the first in a three-part series examining the theological ideas of Søren Kierkegaard through the work of three contemporary church critics.

Kierkegaard’s work is notoriously difficult to comprehend in total: He was a prolific author and frequently wrote under pseudonyms using characters designed to represent contrary or hypocritical positions. Most of my observations on Kierkegaard over this and the next two columns come from writings selected in "Provocations: The Spiritual Writings of Kierkegaard" (edited by Charles E. Moore, Plough Publishing House 1999). Unless otherwise noted, the translations quoted here come from that volume. The podcast "The Partially Examined Life" provides a good introduction to the philosophical Kierkegaard. (Be advised that the recording contains occasional adult language.)

A good friend of mine has found himself at another impasse along his journey where he comes to understand his calling ever more clearly as Father.

I met Brian's fiancée this past summer. As the two of them begin to discern their calling to become family to one another, they have invited me into their sacred process: Brian and Jane asked me to marry them.

Brian was in the process of becoming ordained. After seven years in a religious community and preparing for holy orders, he left when his consolation came to an end. We have walked with one another for more than 10 years and have watched each other deepen in relationship with God and navigate the complexities of life. He routinely confirms and supports my calling, and we imagine a church where we both can be called, he as a married man and me as a woman, and recognized by a community.

Unless you were under a computer-free rock these past few weeks, you've probably seen the YouTube video "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus." With more than 16 million views, this video has stirred up quite the conversation on my Facebook feed. Many people, young people especially, resonate with the message of the video, featuring Jefferson Bethke of Mars Hill Church. His poem amplifies a common trend among today's youth, a trend that distrusts hierarchical institutions, a trend that says, "We're spiritual but not religious."

Many videos have been posted in response, but one in particular caught the eye of my Catholic friends, conservative and liberal alike. In this video, Fr. Claude Burns, aka Fr. Pontifex, sets out to prove that Jesus and the church can't be separated. He suggests that to do so fuels "atheistic opinions."

This is where the church got it right: the season of Christmas (roughly 12 days) lasts for 15 days this year. This season overflows with celebration -- from the birth of Christ to the inspiration of martyrs and holy people. In the fashion of My Life with the Saints by Jesuit Fr. James Martin, the following is a reflection of the Christmas season through the lives and events of inspiration that we celebrate. Take some time each day to contemplate your life within the bigger picture of Christmas.

Day 1: Nativity of Christ
The birth of God's only son who came to offer light in the darkness, freedom to those oppressed and reconciliation to a broken world. Born in a manger and born along a journey, Christ is God's promise to those born vulnerable on the margins of society.

How does Christ's birth affect the way you express care to the least of these? Consider sharing your home with those in need so that others may never experience "no room in the inn."

Day 2: Feast of St. Stephen, first martyr

Usually I go to the sports sections of newspapers to get past all the depressing news of the front page. The sports section has stories about athletic feats. But lately, the sports section has (rightfully so) been burdened by college sports scandals.

First it was pay-for-play stories about Auburn University quarterback Cam Newton (now in the NFL with the Carolina Panthers), and then the stories of Ohio State University football players selling merchandise. More recently, the crimes have been much more egregious, beginning with former Penn State University football coach Jerry Sandusky allegedly sexually molesting several young boys on and around the Penn State campus. Head coach Joe Paterno, who was always thought of as a stand-up guy you wanted your kid to play football for, admitted that he wishes he done more with the knowledge he had of the situation. And even more recently, Syracuse men's basketball assistant coach Bernie Fine was fired for allegedly sexually molesting young boys.

These are all secular schools making the news. I think these situations could unfortunately happen just as easily at Catholic and other faith-based institutions of higher education.