Tag Archives: Pop Culture

Stonewall: Forty-one years and counting

This is essentially a reprint of my Stonewall post from a year ago. The response to the police raid on Stonewall, a gay bar in Greenwich Village, New York City, June 28, 1969 marked the beginning of the gay rights movement. For many, progress toward full equality and inclusion of LGBT folks seems slow; yet, for one like me who thinks like a historian, the progress since 1969 has been remarkable, and the same is true for the advances since this post first appeared.

In the last year, two major, mainline protestant denominations took significant steps toward full inclusion of LGBT folk. Following the encouragement of Integrity (an Episcopal LGBT advocacy group), the Episcopalians now offer “all the sacraments to all the baptized”. In practical effect, this means that the episcopate is fully open to gays and lesbians, and the year saw the election and confirmation of suffragan bishop Mary Glasspool, a partnered lesbian, to the diocese of Los Angeles. My own Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) committed itself to recognize and affirm publicly accountable, monogamous, life-long same gender relationships and to allow persons in such relationships to be fully rostered as ordained clergy. There were also advances in Judaism, which already boasted an enviable record of inclusivity.

2009 & 2010 saw advances in LGBT legal and political rights: gay marriage became the law of Iowa, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Washington D.C.; partners of gay federal employees received expanded benefits; and the military policy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t tell” appears to be in its last days. What will the next year bring?

The following is my post from a year ago under the heading “June 28, 1969: Where were you?”

Many of you probably weren’t born, so I guess this is a question for the baby boomers, like me. But, I encourage the young’uns to read along, anyway, to get a better understanding of who and where we are this Sunday, the fortieth anniversary of Stonewall.

Here’s my answer. I had just turned 21 and had just finished my army infantry training in the heat and amongst the snakes and spiders of Fort Polk, Louisiana, “Fort Puke, the arm pit of America,” we called it.

“If’n one of them coral snakes bites ya, here’s the proper military procedure,” droned the drill sergeant. “Spread yer legs to a comfortable military stance, put yer hands on yer knees, bend down at the waist as far as you kin, and kiss yer sweet ass goodbye.”

A few weeks earlier, over Memorial Day weekend, our battalion received back to back three day passes, a rare treat toward the end of our training. We were all headed to Viet Nam to become “grunts”, anyway, might as well allow us a good time. My new girlfriend of less than six months drove down from Minnesota — along with my parents, brother Mike, and his girlfriend — and we all camped out at Aunt Carol’s place in nearby Lake Charles. In front of a sultry red sun of dusk, under the bearded Spanish moss that hung from the live oaks that leaned over a dusty country lane, I had proposed, but the girlfriend had turned me down.

But now, three weeks later, I was back in Minnesota on a 30 day leave before departing for my one year tour of duty as an infantryman in Viet Nam, and the girlfriend had finally consented under my relentless urgings, and she allowed me to purchase an engagement ring. I needed that lifeline, that sense of commitment and belonging, that sense that there was a future beyond the jungles of Southeast Asia, and her assent to one day becoming my bride gave me that grounding. Lynn still wears that ring, today. I didn’t know then what a privilege it was to ask the one I loved to be for me; to hold my hand and keep my heart close; to send and receive trite, and silly, and melancholy missives; and to wait and to be there when I returned.

Bobby Dylan was singing and saying that the times were a’changing, but it wasn’t clear in what direction. Tricky Dick was in the White House. Dion was lamenting the losses of Abraham, Martin, and John: “but it seems the good, they die young,” and in my narcissism I knew the song was about me. I wasn’t much concerned about what was going on in Greenwich Village, NYC.

If there were any gay people in my life then, I didn’t know it. Oh, there was elderly Emil, a hapless figure who would buy the small town boys cigarettes, but we all knew not to go behind any buildings with him. Maybe some did, I don’t know. I suppose somebody had to be the source of the giggling about the comic old man. In hindsight, I know that an older cousin later died in alcoholic squalor, never fully able to come to grips with who he was, and I have a younger cousin who thrives in a long term relationship with Robert. Perhaps there is symbolism in the differences between the older and the younger. In a reunion with my younger cousin a few years ago, he laughingly recounted how he loved to come and spend time with us in Minnesota and with dear old Grandma Olga because she allowed him to dress up in girl’s clothes.

Queers were deviates, so said the medical and psychological establishment. Fags were outlaws and security risks, so said the FBI, State Department, US Postal Service, as well as state and local law enforcement agencies. Homosexuals were sinners who had chosen the wrong path and needed repentance, so said the word from Christian pulpits. And these others, whoever they were, were mostly invisible:

a secret legion of people, known of but discounted, ignored, laughed at or despised. And like the holders of a secret, they had an advantage which was a disadvantage, too, and which was true of no other minority group in the United States. They were invisible. Unlike African Americans, women, Native Americans, Jews, the Irish, Italians, Asians, Hispanics, or any other cultural group which struggled for respect and equal rights, homosexuals had no physical or cultural markings, no language or dialect which could identify them to each other, or to anyone else. Wikipedia, the Stonewall riots.

When the eight police officers knocked on the Stonewall door at 1:20 a.m., June 28, 1969, and announced “Police! We’re taking the place!”, they didn’t know they were about to make history, any more than the bus driver who ordered Rosa Parks to surrender her seat on the Montgomery, Alabama bus to a white passenger 14 years earlier. Spurred by the successes of the civil rights movement, the bra burning feminists, and the college students protesting the war, the response of the gay community of Greenwich Village to the routine police raid on the Stonewell Bar of Christopher Street, said Dylan was right, the times were a’changin’.

We all had a collective feeling like we’d had enough of this kind of shit. It wasn’t anything tangible anybody said to anyone else, it was just kind of like everything over the years had come to a head on that one particular night in the one particular place, and it was not an organized demonstration…. Everyone in the crowd felt that we were never going to go back. It was like the last straw. It was time to reclaim something that had always been taken from us…. All kinds of people, all different reasons, but mostly it was total outrage, anger, sorrow, everything combined, and everything just kind of ran its course. It was the police who were doing most of the destruction. We were really trying to get back in and break free. And we felt that we had freedom at last, or freedom to at least show that we demanded freedom. We weren’t going to be walking meekly in the night and letting them shove us around—it’s like standing your ground for the first time and in a really strong way, and that’s what caught the police by surprise. There was something in the air, freedom a long time overdue, and we’re going to fight for it. It took different forms, but the bottom line was, we weren’t going to go away. And we didn’t.

Michael Fader quoted in the same Wikipedia article.

Will the occasion be noted from any pulpits this Sunday? Some, I hope, but only a few, I fear. Probably not in my own church, even though I know my pastor is willing, but the congregation isn’t ready. Not yet. But, someday, and sooner than you think. It’s blowin’ in the wind.

National media discovers the ELCA

The recent actions of the ELCA council revamping ministry policies and welcoming ELM clergy into the ELCA were natural consequences of CWA09–hardly surprising but welcome nevertheless. For those of us in the ELCA, as well as the trio of dissident organizations (LCMC, CORE, & Wordalone), the news and the issues behind the news are in some ways old hat.

Not so with a national news article appearing on the Huffington Post and the hundreds of comments that follow. The article was written by Rev Dr. Cindi Love, the newly appointed executive director of Soulforce (an LGBTQ advocacy group). Except for the rather notably understated reference to CWA09 as merely “discussions”, the article is pretty straight forward. Many of the comments that follow the article are rants from trolls.

Yet, I commend the article and the comments because it affords us a glimpse into the way others view Lutherans. Hear the words of Dr. Love:

The ELCA has served as the beta test site for a process through which a very traditional faith community can reverse its thinking and policies. They will continue to push the envelope and all of us will learn from their experiences. Other denominational leaders and congregants will be glad that they tested the waters first.

The ELCA has conducted itself with grace and dignity, and many of us are longing for some of that type of public civility. Their example is going to make people within other embattled denominations long for a better process within their own communities. The ELCA members didn’t wage war in public with one another. There was no public outcry that diminished everyone while they worked their way through a quarter century of discussion.

One critical comment pointed out that Love overlooks the pain of dissension felt in some congregations and some geographical areas such as Montana:

Unfortunately the ELCA churches of Montana are going through tremendous upheaval over this issue- yes, they are arguing in public, friendships of many years are dissolving as people refuse to talk to one another, or yell at each other, some churches have stopped donating to the ELCA altogether etc. Most every church is taking a vote on whether to leave the ELCA or not. This is the situation in Montana, and it’s not pretty or quiet- and readers need to know that tremendous pain is being caused by this process.

Other comments contain plenty of judgment and condemnation:

ELCA – Another Apostate Denomination … God will be their judge. Woe to them when that time comes.

But, there is a refreshing new awareness from many that the ELCA may be a welcoming place. There is a recurring theme of agnostics and wounded former Christians taking a second look. Here is a sampling:

So Lutherans, I applaud your decision to welcome ALL your children back into your pews. I hope other religious leaders will follow your example.

I’m confused, but for the most part happy. As a proud agnostic, I have issues with people’s struggle to be accepted by a segment of the population that blatantly thought less of them. However, I wholeheartedly embrace the decision by the church as something loving and progressive.

I am not even a Christian, but nonetheless, throughout my life, I have revered the message of Christ – one of love and tolerance and inclusion. And that’s what the Lutherans did with this declaration – they embraced the loving spirit of Christ regardless of the words (and translated, to boot!) in the book … Jesus would be proud of them. They are walking with the spirit in love and acceptance. Exactly the way Jesus intended.

What is so striking to me about the Lutheran journey toward inclusion is the way that, in recent years especially, they have considered their ministry to the LGBTQ community. When asked, what is the pastoral message to the LGBTQ, they have had an answer. All too often, our congregations/denominations reveal that they have no response to the pastoral needs of the LGBTQ community. Kudos to the ELCA! May we all follow their example.

Some straight people equate homosexuality with one thing SEX. Why not try just once to look at us as people. You are so hung up on the sexual aspect you can’t see the forest for the trees. Stop using the bible to do your dirty work and stop hiding behind it. Do some research or are you afraid to learn we put our socks on one foot at a time just like you. I imagine many bibles are only dusted off when needed as an anti gay weapon because you would not be spewing this garbage if you read it.

Congratulations, ECLA, and a bit of applause from one of the ‘neighbors.’ 🙂
You’ve helped make the world a little less divided tonight, …whatever some may say, less hate in the world can’t be bad. Blessed be.

When it comes to Christians, the Lutherans are probably the most tolerant. They believe in grace.

Once I read this, as a former Mormon but (continuing) homosexual man, I have spent the afternoon researching the Lutheran-organized charities in my neighborhood. I am thrilled that there is finally a faith-based organization I can believe in (even though it has specific tenets with which I do not agree.) I am excited that I can volunteer with or donate to their charity organizations without the underlying fear that the fruits of my good intentions will go toward encouraging further discrimination against me, my husband and my fellow gay brothers and sisters.

There was a time when this news would have meant a lot to me personally. I still think it’s great, particularly since the influence of the church is so huge in the U.S. I’m happy that a major mainline denomination has taken this step and hope it will lead others (like the milk toast Methodists) to finally do the same. For me personally, however, this is too little to late. I gave up on the church long ago partly because of it’s stance on homosexuality, among a host of other nonsensical stances. I now consider myself an agnostic more inclined to support secular humanism that some religious superstition and hierarchy. Still – congratulations to those still within the church who have worked so hard for this victory against prejudice and ignorance.

Even as a non-believer, I find this to be great news. Thank you, Lutherans. Maybe some believers actually are good people.

ELCA Lutherans and social media

Through the Twitter use of #hashtags, it is possible to follow all Tweets that address issues of interest to an ELCA person. The hashtag is simply #ELCA. As I write this, a quick scan of a Twitter #ELCA search reveals first page results about Presiding Bishop Hanson speaking to the gathering of Anglicans in England, several links to a Lutheran Magazine article about hospitality (“The meaning of hospitality: It’s more than food and a comfy bed. It is about standing side-by-side with someone you may not agree with, may not understand, or don’t even like.”), and miscellaneous links to articles regarding ecumenism, migration, calendar of events, etc.

Some of the same articles appear with a search of the hashtag #Lutheran, but with a broader scope of Lutheranism to include LCMS items, Lutheran World Relief (LWF), and a few links to Lutheran theological articles.

Facebook promotes participation in interest groups, and a couple that I belong to include my local synod and a rapidly expanding new group called “Lovin the Lutheran Church” with a motto of “Proud to be Lutherans in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.” Facebook is not the place for an in depth discussion of an issue, but it can provide a quick link to news articles or blog posts. Facebook is for short comments and equally brief responses. The most recent comment as I post this is “A majority, but not 2/3, of Good Shepherd, Monroeville, PA, members vote to leave the ELCA. Congregation will remain, but is deeply divided,” and the comment also provides a link to a newspaper article. In less than 24 hours, this comment has received 23 replies.

Could Gay Clergy be coming to Lake Woebegone?

Of course, Minnesota is home to Garrison Keillor and his mythical Lake Woebegone. The Lake Woebegone Whippets baseball team sometimes pops up in the skits and monologues of A Prairie Home Companion, including reports of their contests with the Upsala Uff da’s (pronounced oopsala in the show). Many years ago, when Keillor was still doing the Mn Public Radio Morning Show from St John’s University, I corresponded with him to report that there really was a ball team called the Uff da’s that played in Upsala … it was my University of Minnesota intramural softball team, which we called the Uff da’s, that journeyed to my hometown of Upsala for a weekend tournament. [for any non-Scandinavian readers, Uff da is Swedish/Norwegian for “oy ve!”, or “no s..t!”, etc.]

But I digress…

I have posted frequently about the upcoming ELCA convention in Minneapolis beginning August 17th in which gay marriage and gay clergy will be the hot legislative items. I will be present during the convention offering “graceful engagement” in the hallways on behalf of Goodsoil, the umbrella organization for a number of LGBT friendly constituencies. Watch this space for regular blog updates from the convention.

We also have a report that the Episcopalians have chosen a lesbian as one of three candidates to become the IX Bishop of the Minnesota Diocese.

In today’s Minneapolis Star Tribune, the leading newspaper of Mn, comes the headline that asks and answers a question: How gay is Minnesota? Really, really gay, according to columnist Andy Birkey who blogs from Eleventh Avenue South:

Folks from out of town are often shocked to find huge and vibrant lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender communities this far from the coasts. It shouldn’t be a surprise given Minnesotans’ long-standing commitment to tolerance and human rights, and the fact that Minneapolis is the last stop before Seattle. Most of us are from small towns in Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and the Dakotas who didn’t want the hassle and cost of Chicago or found Madison and Iowa City a bit too "small town."

There are a lot of us.

According to the Williams Institute at the UCLA, the Minneapolis-St. Paul metropolitan area ranks 8th in terms of LGBT people per capita and Minneapolis is fourth among major cities for percent of LGBT people in the population. Minnesota ranks 10th in the nation for number of same-sex couples, and same-sex couples reside in every county of the state … Each year, Minneapolis’ Loring Park hosts the third largest free Pride festival with over 400,000 attendees.

I think I know what Pastor Ingqvist of Lake Woebegone would say: UFF DA!

ELCA Youth Gathering: the journey to New Orleans

Keith Pearson is the pastor of First Lutheran of Hector, Minnesota … and my brother in law. He just got back from the ELCA youth gathering in New Orleans, along with a handful of youth from his own parish. They were part of a larger group of several dozen from the area who journeyed together. Pastor Keith has consented to a reprint of his five days of blogs, his own first person account. Check out Keith’s blog, which contains a ton of pictures.

Day One

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Much of our first day was simply about getting there. We had some last minute schedule changes, some delays, and one lost bag, but in the end we arrived here safe and sound.

Once on the ground in New Orleans we checked in to our hotel and then headed to the New Orleans Convention Center where our activities began. At supper time we managed to sample a little taste of New Orleans at “The Crazy Lobster,” a restaurant right on the edge of the Mighty Mississippi. Some were bold in their food orders, others stuck to burgers and fries. We even had a little live New Orleans Jazz music to accompany our meal.

It was pretty exciting to see this big old city filled with teens from around the country. Everywhere you look you could see groups of kids (most in flocks of like-colored shirts) soaking in the sights and sounds. Quick shout-outs happened between the groups, declaring where they came from and inquiring about our group. I have to say, there is something in the air that’s pretty exciting.

After supper it was back the hotel for “Community/Hotel Life.” There was a band in the ball room and swimming at the pool. The kids scattered to their preferred activities before turning in for the night.

Day Two

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Day 2 was the real beginning or our New Orleans experience. We began the day with our turn in the interactive learning center. There were games for the sake of playing together and there were games and activities that made you think about your role in the world.

We also had our first full day on the streets of New Orleans. That in itself is quite an experience. This is definitely NOT Renville County. You’ll have to ask the kids what they thought and what they saw. All in all the City is very happy to have us here and they are being very gracious and welcoming to this massive influx of teenagers. Although this is still a large city and we are always watchful for dangers and all the other darker sides of humanity that come with this sort of setting, still we have felt quite safe and secure everywhere we have gone.

Our closing event for the evening was our first “Mass Gathering”. Try to imagine 37,000 teens and their adult leaders filling the seats of a major venue like the Superdome. Now imagine a 20 story illuminated cross, pounding music and cheering crowds. It had all the elements of a major rock concert, but the star of the show was Jesus. There were wonderful speakers telling their dramatic stories of faith in action and the power of the Holy Spirit working through simple, often young people. There were teams of teens acting out lessons and preaching the gospel in ways that had the kids cheering, laughing, and struck silent by the power of what they were experiencing. There was definitely something electric about the evening – and it had nothing to do with lights and sound or video projecting jumbotrons. The underlying current was a power of something unseen and yet profoundly felt. It was the presence of the Holy Spirit.

I wish you could have been here.

Day Three

Service Day

Friday, July 24, 2009

Day 3 was our service day. It began REALLY early. We had to be at our “launch site” at 6:30 a.m. having already had breakfast and packed for the day. That means we had to leave our hotel by 6:00 a.m. to make the 20 minute walk to the Convention Center where we would pick up the bus that would take us to where our day would begin. We didn’t know what we would be doing exactly, but our category of choice was “Health and Wellness.”

The organizers of the Gathering had explained to us that the situation on the ground was changing daily and so they couldn’t know in advance exactly where we would be or what we would be doing. When we first boarded our bus we were told that we were going to a day-camp where we would be working with children. When we arrived at the site it was actually a high school football stadium that was in need of attention. It seems the field had been a site for helicopters to land and ambulances and other transport vehicles to pull in and get the injured and sick out of the city after hurricane Katrina. All of this activity on wet ground had left ruts in the field and the flood waters had coated the concrete stands with algae and mold.

The first question that came to my mind was, how can this still be a problem after four years? Most of what we have seen in and around New Orleans looks pretty normal. We have not witnessed any blatant remnants of the hurricane damage. Once we started working I began to understand. Our tasks for the day were to paint a swing set, scrape and paint a locker room, fill in the ruts in the field, and power-wash the concrete stadium seating area. We came fresh and eager to dig in and get to work. I dare say we even came with a little attitude (it’s part of that midwest work ethic). Surely we could handle this.

Then reality set in. The tools and supplies we needed were not available immediately, and when they did arrive they were still in short supply. There wasn’t enough paint to cover all the surfaces that needed it. Rather than three or four power washers there was only one. And then there was the heat! I don’t know what the temperature was or what the official humidity level reached, but it was positively oppressive. In a very short period of the physical output required for this work zapped the energy out of everyone. We struggled to keep pouring in enough water to keep ahead of the dehydration. We all kept a high vigil over each other to head off any heat-related problems. Talking with Isaiah, the sole staff person at this facility, he thanked us over and over again. He said if it were not for our help all this work would be his solo task.

In the end we had to give up the effort a little ahead of schedule. And although we had accomplished much, many left feeling as though we could have done more, disappointed that the job was not finished. I told the group that this was true for just about everything God calls us to do. We rarely get to see the end of the job and there is always more to do than we have time, tools or the ability to do on our own. We have to give thanks for the ability to do what we can with the resources at our disposal and trust God to finish with the job with the hands of others.

At our mass gathering this evening the theme was Hope. Through the compelling stories of this evening’s speakers we heard that it is through small and large acts of kindness and love that hope springs for those who may have felt their situation was hopeless. Hope is the fruit of love, and hope breaks open a world of possibilities.

I am extremely proud of our kids for the gift of hope they provided this day. They served tirelessly and joyfully, and would have worked much harder and longer if we would have allowed them to do so. I did not hear one complaint nor one request to stop.

Day Four

A tour that expanded our understanding.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Our day began with a bus tour of the city’s four major districts. We began with beautiful mansions and lush gardens and finished with the infamous “Lower 9th Ward” – the site of some of the worst devastation. It was quite a contrast going from beautiful historic mansions that were virtually untouched, to one of the poorest areas of the country nearly obliterated by the storm. In fact, if it were not for a few traces of concrete and paved streets you may not know anyone ever lived here.

It has been four years since hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans and so much remains to be done. It is humbling and maybe even a little disheartening to look at the tremendous amount of work left to be done. It would be easy to give up and just move on, but God rarely sends us down paths that are easy. When we hear the stories from people who have lived through these past four years, and when they show us photos from those first days I am encouraged. Progress has been made and things are much better, but there is still so much to do.

Our day finished off with another “Mass Gathering” at the Superdome – the same place that became an island of hope for the truly desperate survivors. There to kick off our final big night together we were greeted by the Mayor of New Orleans and received a personal “thank you” from him. That was followed by a letter of thanks and encouragement from none other than our country’s president, Barack Obama. You know you have been part of something truly significant and important when the President of the United States takes notice and is suitably impressed with your actions.

Day Five

Saying goodbye, telling the story.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Our last day in New Orleans would be mostly a travel day. We would not be doing any projects, attending any workshops, or joining in the final “Mass Gathering” that would officially close our event. We would, however, say goodbye to New Orleans and begin reflecting on our experience.

While the kids enjoyed a welcome opportunity to sleep in a bit and then pack up for the trip home I stopped down in the hotel restaurant for a bite to eat. I decided to treat myself to a real meal for the first time since our first night in New Orleans. The restaurant was nearly empty (I was there kind of early), and so my waitress was waiting patiently for more customers to come. I asked her a simple question: “Do you live here in New Orleans?” When she said “Yes” I then asked the question that quite literally opened the flood gates: “Where were you when the flood came?”

Her name was Brenda and she had been on vacation with her family. And so she had to watch the events unfold along with the rest of the world. She couldn’t return home for two and a half months. The Marriott kept her and all the other employees on the payroll and even got emergency money from Mr. Marriott himself (she told all of this with deep appreciation). She lost several friends who were trapped and killed by the flood waters. Most of her family was scattered, thankfully all surviving, but most never to return to New Orleans. “I haven’t seen my one sister since the storm. I used to see her every Sunday. Now she’s just a voice on the phone to me.”

She spoke of her love for New Orleans and how this was where her heart is. She was grateful for the places that had been her temporary home while waiting to get back to the city, but said that nice as they were they were not home. She also spoke with hope that others would eventually feel the pull of their hearts to return to New Orleans. Still, she said, “I don’t think New Orleans will ever be the same.” I suspect she is right. It will never be the same, but I do believe a new New Orleans will emerge from this experience, and I think I will like that city.

Now it is our responsibility to tell the story of the people of New Orleans. Ask one of the kids or chaperones who attended the 2009 ELCA National Youth Gathering about their experience.

Sheer joy

I offer this You Tube video for no reason except for the celebration of life and love that bursts forth. Thanks to Pam Spaulding on Pam’s House Blend for finding it.

Praise the Lord!

Praise God in his sanctuary;

praise him in his mighty firmament!

praise him for his mighty deeds;

praise him according to his surpassing greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;

praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with tambourine and dance;

praise him with strings and pipe!

Praise him with clanging cymbals;

praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

Psalm 150

Goodbye Blue Monday

Blue Monday Downtown Northfield is a delicious blend of shops, restaurants, bars, bakeries/ice cream/coffee shops, museum, bookstore, library, and much more. “Eat at Tiny’s. Save America,” says the bumper sticker available at Tiny’s Hot Dogs. “Get your guns, boys, They’re robbing the bank,” say the T-shirts available at the museum store that honors the shootout with the Jesse James gang in 1876, perhaps the most famous episode of banditry in the lore of the wild west.

A recent article by free lance writer Barbara Tuttle published in MinnPost.com conveys the essential ambiance of downtown Northfield, and I post it here in its entirety:

The first time I drove through downtown Northfield, four years ago, I noticed the funky sign: “Goodbye Blue Monday.” What a great name for a coffee shop! I learned later that it was named after a Kurt Vonnegut story. My daughter Kate was beginning college at St. Olaf. I didn’t dream what a welcome part of our routine Blue Monday would become.

When you have kids, the goodbyes fall like leaves, one after the other, from the moment you give birth. Shortly before Kate’s graduation from high school, I moved to Minneapolis in the wake of a flurry of some particular tough goodbyes: one daughter studying in California, a son in France, a collapsed marriage, which even meant goodbye to my beloved Bijou the cat. I found a bit of an anchor in a part-time job at a tech college in the far southeast metro.

Kate had a college decision to make, between St. Olaf and a liberal arts college in Oregon. Being a budding environmentalist, she hankered to go to the Pacific Northwest. But around the time of my move, Kate announced that she’d made a decision. (“The white smoke went up,” we joked, as the cardinals were simultaneously electing a Pope.) St. Olaf it was to be.

Hooray! — a reprieve on one of the most difficult goodbyes. To my delight, I learned that St. Olaf was only 30 miles from what had felt like my out-in-the-boondocks job in exurbia. In fact, Kate lived closer to my job than I did!

A reassuring routine
Every couple of weeks or so, Kate would call and suggest I take her for a Target run and dinner. It was a reassuring routine, doing the habitual mother-daughter errands in the midst of my new life. I always made the same corny joke. Depending on the day of the week, I’d tell her I’d meet her at Goodbye Blue Tuesday or Goodbye Blue Wednesday. She would groan while I re-delighted myself every time at the feigned “cleverness” of my joke.

I got off work at 1, so I’d grab lunch, then drive to Northfield, and pass a pleasant couple of hours at Goodbye Blue Monday, enjoying free wifi, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee till she was free. Then we’d hit Target to replenish her supplies and snacks, marveling at how we gravitated toward the same flavors: anything with dried cranberries, nuts, pumpkin, anything autumnal. “You’d almost think we were related,” she’d say. We’d top off the visit with a trip to the Indian restaurant for chicken tikka masala.

Blue Monday is the Un-Starbucks, for sure. Funky retro lamps adorn little laminate tables, and there are sofas, as well: garage-sale treasures.

It’s an ideal spot for the overheard conversation. Situated directly between Carleton and St. Olaf, it’s a favorite spot for both camps. One of my pastimes was trying to figure out which campus my fellow coffee-sippers came from. Were they discussing who was bringing the wine to the party? Ah, Carleton. (St. Olaf’s a dry campus.) Were they sophisticated and Eastern, or earnest and Lutheran?

Concentration only for Net surfing
On the unusually bright afternoon of Election Day 2008, I sat at my table in the storefront window overlooking Division Street, unable to read, coiled with anticipation at the outcome, like waiting for Santa Claus. Thank God for the wifi, because I had concentration only for surfing the Net, and reading news reports and chat boards like tea leaves.

And Blue Monday is where, on a wintry day, I was reading my new paperback copy of “Dreams from My Father.” I flipped it over to read the short author bio on the back: “In November 2008, Barack Obama was elected president of the United States,” and remembered I’d been in that spot a few months before not knowing the outcome.

This year, on a perfect May day with the crabapples and lilacs in full bloom, I went to Goodbye Blue Monday for the last time. Graduation was imminent, and I was making one last trip to Northfield. No Target run would be needed, as Kate was now cleaning out her dorm room. Next week, she will head to the Dakotas for a summer internship monitoring grasslands. In August, it’s off to Senegal for two years with the Peace Corps.

One more time
My cell phone rang, and it was Kate. Class was over. Could I pick her up at the science building? When I found her, she said, “I haven’t had anything to eat. Want to go to Blue Monday?”

Back we went for more coffee, another chocolate-chip cookie. Seems I’m often blessed with one more reprieve. Of course, nothing’s stopping me from going to Northfield in the future. It’s a pleasant town. But with Kate gone, I know I won’t.

So goodbye to the friendly barista who makes a great dry cappuccino with a perfect froth. Goodbye, ceramic ’50s lamps and sofas and fellow sippers. Goodbye, Goodbye Blue Monday.

Freedom of religion?

daniel-hauser In Minnesota, thirteen year old Daniel Hauser and his mother are on the lam today, seeking to avoid court ordered chemotherapy and radiation treatments. The boy apparently has a treatable cancer but stopped treatments after one month and substituted alternative care including herbs and vitamins for purported religious reasons. When the boy’s doctors called this to the attention of authorities, a local court received evidence and ordered that the treatments be reinstated.

That was all in the past. Today’s news is that testing showed the cancer returning, and the boy and his mother have disappeared, perhaps in the company of another woman who may be a California attorney. A national warrant has been issued for the mother’s arrest.

While adults may freely choose to refrain from medical treatment for religious reasons, a child may not nor may the parents decide such a weighty issue for him. The end of this story is not known, but it is a tragedy in the making that involves the life of a young man and the legal and moral consequences to his mother if it does not end well.

A blog on the blogger news network suggests the boy is illiterate and three years behind his age group.

A quick review of early blogs and comments suggests overwhelming support for the authorities and disagreement with the mother but not all. One commenter on another blog refers to the authorities and doctors as “medical nazis.”

Standing Up to Miss California

The National Organization for Marriage is acting like if Miss California cannot be Miss USA, then she will be the new Queen Esther. But Carrie Prejean is neither one.

We know Miss USA types but, as a rabbi, to show how wrong this allusion is, I must tell you about Queen Esther. She is a brave biblical figure from thousands of years ago. Orphaned and raised by her uncle, she rose against all odds, to be the king of Persia’s favored wife in a time when Persians despised Jews.

At risk of her own life she came out to the king to expose a plot against all Jews. Even her uncle asked her to risk her own life because she was born and raised to the status of queen “for such a time as this.” Because of her bravery, she and all her people were spared from becoming the victims of a grab for power.

So in today’s real life story, who is Queen Esther? Who are the victims?

Carrie Prejean and the National Organization for Marriage feel they are the victims because of the outcry when Carrie came out and said, “In my country and in my family I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman – no offense to anyone out there…”

But offence IS taken when these beliefs are the backbone of anti-gay legislation. Offense IS taken when victimization of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people is ongoing.

* It is gay and lesbian couples and families who do not have equal protection under the law to marry the person they love who are the victims.
* It is transgender people who are targeted for brutal beatings and murders such as Angie Zapata in Colorado who are the victims.
* It is every child in our public school who is bullied to the point of suicide with taunts of “you’re so gay” who are the victims.
* It is the foster children who are denied a permanent home because gay couples are barred from adopting in state after state who are the victims.
* It is the parents and family of gay people who watch their loved ones suffer persecution and discrimination on the job who are the victims.

In America we have a separation of church and state. Churches and synagogues do not control civil marriage. Conservative people of faith remain free to practice their religion–and even their prejudices. They are not forced to marry anyone in their congregation.

Our founding fathers were wise when they made sure that no religion was the official religion of the United States. They separated religion from civil law. Carrie and National Organization for Marriage want to be viewed as the victims but they are among those who plot against marginalized people who have been forced to live in fear and silence.

Carrie and National Organization for Marriage claim that they are the victims and that Carrie lost the pageant for her beliefs. But one judge, Alicia Jacobs, spoke out afterwards and blogged:

Could Miss California have answered her question in a more sensitive manner? Yes, I believe she could have and she probably should have. Interestingly, her sister is a gay rights activist in the military…go figure? I do not fault her for her beliefs…I fault her for her complete lack of social grace.

Esther spoke up for the underdog and her family. Esther spoke up for justice at the risk of her own life. So if we are to look to Queen Esther, we must all speak out to expose the mass of misinformation about marriage and gay families. There is no threat to straight marriage–only equal opportunity for every person to marry the one they love.

Is Miss Carrie Queen Esther?

I think not.

Are we all called to be like Queen Esther and speak out for fairness and truth “in such a time as this”?

I think so.

Rabbi Denise L. Eger is the founding Rabbi of Congregation Kol Ami in West Hollywood, CA. She is a founding steering committee member of California Faith for Equality and the President of the Pacific Association of Reform Rabbis. She posted this article at the Huffington Post.

Gathering Storm: Miss California Trying to Redefine Traditional Breasts for the Rest of Us

Miss California Carrie Prejean ostensibly lost the coveted first prize of the Miss USA Pageant due to an honest, but clumsily delivered, response to a question about same-sex marriage equality. Thanks, however, to the juvenile grandstanding and self-aggrandizing douchebaggery of Perez Hilton, she earned a seemingly more lustrous and lucrative crown: spokesperson for the National Organization for Marriage (NOM). NOM, of course, is the political organization made infamous by the countless parodies of its “Gathering Storm” ad, in which one desperate-for-any-work actor warned America in barely perceptible English that a “storm is coming” in the form of full civil equality for gay and lesbian Americans.

Prejean, for her part, has vowed “to do whatever it takes to protect marriage” and the newly crowned queen of “Opposite Marriage” appears in NOM’s newest ad entitled, “No Offense.” She also reminded the nation at a press conference that her contemptibly ill-informed comments at the Miss America contest was “not about being politically correct, but about being ‘Biblically correct.'”

Oops! Heaven, we have a problem.

A recent revelation — and not of the Biblical variety — surfaced this week that the prodigal princess had breast augmentation surgery, approved and funded by the Miss California Organization, just weeks before the Miss USA pageant. One has to wonder how the beauty queen has the credibility and moral standing to speak out against “unnatural” and “un-Biblical” marriage with the same breath that is weighted down by “unnatural” and “un-Biblical” implants filtered through $10,000 worth of “unnatural” capped teeth.

Of course, Princess Prejean has a right to her religious convictions and no one should ever lose a contest over speaking those beliefs in earnest. Miss California also has the right to do whatever she chooses within the privacy of her own bra, but she doesn’t have the right to redefine traditional breasts for the rest of us.

For many thousands of years, across every culture and continent, women have known “traditional” breasts to be those that God — or nature — gave them. To think otherwise flies in the face of millennia of human history and spiritual doctrine. Prejean’s Bible repeatedly reminds us we are made in God’s perfect image while warning us against exchanging the “natural” use of our bodies for those deemed “unnatural.” And, while one could argue the right to privacy and personal freedom are inherent in our nation’s founding democratic principles and that every American has a right to his/her own pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, organizations like NOM — for whom she’s now the spokesperson — Focus on the Family and the Family Research Council repeatedly admonish us that life in America would be better if theology and biblical doctrine were the primary determinant of civil law and personal liberties.

While someone else was footing the bill, Prejean made the choice to defy her God’s “perfect” design and creation of her and to rebel against the intended and “natural” purpose of her mammaries: namely, the nursing of babies rather than the visual attraction sufficient enough to win a vanity contest. Moreover, if her teeth aren’t capped, I’m betting they were braced; and I’d also put money down on the fact that Prejean has, at some point, performed other “unnatural” acts with her organs like chewing gum, wearing eye-glasses, enjoying a Diet Coke or two or… well, you get the idea.

So, Carrie, you may find full civil equality for all Americans to be “unnatural” and not “Biblically correct,” but, frankly, neither are your Jugs for Jesus and your Caps for Christ. “No Offense.”

Brian Normoyle in the Huffington Post