Seeking Authentic Voice

One sunny afternoon in 1987 I found myself having lunch with my boss, who was the owner of an interior design firm, and his clients, Maria Tall Chief Paschen and her husband Buddy. A dance major in college, I was thrilled, and a little intimidated to have lunch with this prima ballerina. I don’t remember much from that lunch, and I’m sure I said very little. However the topic of dance must have come up because I recall her comparing modern dance and ballet saying, in what I perceived as a condescending tone, that ballet was a much more sophisticated form of dance than those moderns “danced in their bare feet”. If Maria were still alive she’d probably be aghast that many modern ballerina’s now perform in the traditional ballet pointe shoes as well as in bare feet.  I have always loved being barefoot. Maybe it’s the result of growing up in the west, where everything is more informal? I recall spending all day outside, usually barefoot, climbing trees and running through fields a...

A Maundy Thursday reflection on the Passion, from the perspective of Judas.   Scene: it’s very late on Thursday night and Jesus’ followers have gathered together in grief, anger, and confusion at his arrest just a few hours before. Into their midst stumbles a man dressed in a rumpled blue business suit. His eyes are read and he appears out of sorts. He makes his way to the front of the room and sits on a chair facing the audience. He waits for several moments before speaking, first staring out the window and then into the eyes of the people in front of him. Finally, he begins to speak…   I’m Judas.   Did you know Judas is a very popular name? In Hebrew, Judas means “the praised one.” Did you know that? Many people name their boys Judas…   That may change.   Why are you here? (sardonically) He’s not coming.   The Romans have him. ( Judas gestures, as if to say, “finish the sentence for yourselves.” )   I gave them to him...It was me...the Centurians di...

A reflection for Maundy Thursday, reimaging the Gospel stories of the woman who anointed Jesus, in John she is named as Mary of Bethany, the other Gospels do not name her. I know what you think of me, even all these years later. Some of you know me as Mary of Bethany, sister of Martha and Lazarus. Yes. Jesus was our friend, my friend - and I was his friend. He knew me, the real me. Others do not remember my name and tell my story as if I were a nobody, some unnamed woman. One, a person named Luke, even said that I was sinful.  Whatever.  He never knew the real me, not like Jesus did. It’s true that I broke all the rules for women in my day. I sat at Jesus’ feet while he taught us about the love of God and how God speaks to us through scripture and through other people.   Even my sister Martha grew impatient with my love of learning. But Jesus never did. He encouraged it! It’s true, I had to make a living someway. And as a woman my options were l...

About ten days ago we gathered here in this space and reflected on the woman, Mary, who had the audacity to enter a room full of diners and anoint Jesus’ feet with a pound of very expensive ointment called “nard.” As she anointed his feet she wept, tears tumbling off her face and onto his feet. Tenderly she dried those tears and his feet with her hair. Mary’s love for Jesus was deep and generous. Now tonight we gather here and reflect on another story about feet. This time it is Jesus who is washing feet, all the feet of his friends who have come for supper, and then drying them with a towel. Another tender act of deep and generous love. A stranger to the Christian faith might wonder about all this talk about feet. Might think we are little odd, perhaps? I know plenty of people who dislike feet, find them dirty or gross. People who don’t even like their own feet. I’ve never felt that way. I happen to like feet, even my own. They are odd, my feet, very narrow heels, wide balls and toes,...