Aj Schwanz

I like books. I like books on interesting topics - cooking, parenting, ecclesiology (as opposed to my dad who has books on chaos theory, chess strategy, and the penguin history of the world, and yes: he’s read them all). And I *really* like books on interesting topics that I get for free, so it was a banner day when I opened up my mailbox to find a copy of “It’s a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit” by Patrick Oden.

“It’s a Dance” takes a look at the daily life workings of the Holy Spirit through fictional discussions of a newspaper reporter and an a-typical faith community functioning out of a pub. Luke, a jaded journalist, interviews Nate, the “pastor/bartender,” about his nontraditional approach to church. As Nate gives the background of the community, as well as introducing Luke to various members, the discussion weaves functionality with spirituality, exploring the form their faith expressions take as well as the inner workings of God, the Son, and the Spirit that’s been sent to believers.

The book hits a lot of “buzz word” topics floating around the blogosphere and beyond:

• What does it mean to be missional?
• What does it mean to be incarnational?
• What does it mean to welcome the stranger?
• How and why do we worship creatively?
• Is there a boundary between the sacred and the secular?

But due to the conversational nature of the writing the book never takes on a “textbook” feel. As the characters share their lives and experiences, they also share the reasonings and theology behind their actions. Considering much of the “emerging church conversation” is supposed to be, you know, a *conversation*, this book seems to be an appropriate way to convey the thoughts, ideas, and inner leadings of this current movement.

I greatly enjoyed the emphasis on the movings of the Holy Spirit. The evangelical movement (at least certain streams) seems comfortable with dicussions about God and Jesus, but the Holy Spirit seems a little . . . impish: something we don’t really see that seems a little tricky. And while the emerging conversation has discussed a great deal of the implications of being missional/incarnational, not a lot of emphasis has been given to the promptings which move folks to live that out: that of the Spirit. Instead of getting into a lot of eccesiological/eschatological/insert another word that they use in Seminary that makes lay people go “enh?” stuff, Oden uses the characters to share and show how the Spirit is inclined to move and act in the day-to-day. Practical. Tangible. Helpful.

My only minor complaints, totally coming from my snobby writing/lit background:

• I had a hard time differentiating between speakers (their voices sounded very similar).
• I could use more plot/action, which I know wasn’t the point, but if it’s going to be fictional, a little more movement has got to happen to keep mothers-of-fourth-month-old-yowlers alert.
• Nobody talks that eloquently. Correction: I’m jealous because I can’t articulate my faith and theology that well (ah, blessed sleep deprivation: I’m lucky if I can remember what name goes with which creature I’m currently ministering to).

“It’s a Dance” is hitting the streets November 1st. I suggest you take it out for a spin on the dance floor: it likes the night life; it likes to boogie.

You know how much fun it is when women get together: to engage in quality worship, to participate in relevant discussions, the share their journeys and listen to the journeys of other, and to eat yummy food?

It’s *SO* much fun!

This coming Saturday Northwest Emerging Women Leaders are hosting “Convergence @ Fox“:

Come and engage with other emerging women leaders as we explore our questions together! We will be sharing an afternoon of conversation and connection at the George Fox Seminary campus near Tigard, Oregon. As women shaping the church of the future, we desire to share our journey with others and actively engage the questions that our lives, experiences, and observations raise for us.

You may think: um, that’s two days away, and it’s too late. But it’s NOT! You can still register (and you can still show up Saturday, but food stuffs may not be as adequately planned for).

You may think: enh - that’s sounds too girly/touchy/feely. Actually, the resounding comments have been: “Wow: that’s was so NOT girly/touchy/feely.” I mean, you know me: I have yet to attend a Mother/Daughter tea with my mom (poor Mama: I’m sorry). I swear: we won’t make you wear pink or talk about the gloriousness of “managing the household” (although maybe I should attend an event with that emphasis, come to think of it :)).

You may think: eek - I don’t know you people, and that’s a little uncomfortable. Come. Get to know. These are the most amazing women who are actively seeking God’s will for them and their means to live that out.

Come play! Plus, the cutest little leprechaun will be there, and I’ll be bringing baked goods. Enough said.

I have a confession to make: the first time I tried to make a baked potato, I microwaved it. Which is bad enough (hello, rubbery starch), but it gets better. I had no idea what the process or logistics of it were, so I had to look it up in a cookbook. Yes: I looked up “how to make a baked potato” in a cookbook - that just seems sad. But wait: it gets *even* better. Whenever I ate a baked potato prepared by mom, it was wrapped with aluminum foil: why, I did not know, but I knew it was a critical element to baked potatoes. So I wrapped my baked potato. And placed it in the microwave. And hit the ’start’ button. No: the microwave did not explode, and potato guts were not dashed around the kitchen. But the potato didn’t cook - at - all. That’s when I had an inkling I might need to brush up on some culinary skills.

This event took place when I was 24. Yes: 24. [Insert sighing and shaking of heads by those older and wiser than me, or insert sympathetic shrugs from folks who might've done something similar - I know y'all have got my back.]

I now know better. And I even have a few cooking tricks up my sleeve thanks to watching countless hours of the Food Network and reading cooking magazines while breastfeeding my oldest son. But it’s only come with time, and I’m nearing my third decade. I’ve been married almost five years, and finances haven’t felt functional until the last year or so. Painting and decorating the house? Done — only in my head (and oh my, it’s pretty: you should visit sometime). And let’s just say that my sewing skills are fairly MacGyveresque thanks to my teacher: my engineer father (did you know that dental floss is three times stronger than regular string? And as a bonus it gives your clothes a minty, or cinnamony, smell).

It’s not that I haven’t had opportunities to learn these “homemaking skills”; it’s that as a high schooler and college student (when they were readily available), I fled from them like I flee from things labeled “hazardous materials”, ‘toxic”, “black eyed peas”, “contains msg”, “country music’s top album”, and “Mr. Bean” (bleck: he’s oogy). My mama probably wanted to teach me the tricks she learned to make the house functional, but I was too busy working at youth camps, dying my hair with Kool-Aid, and watching ‘Animaniacs’ with my friends after school (hello: Peter Pan complex). And now I’m married. And have kids. And am still calling my mama because “Judah needs a halloween costume, and unless you help, he’s going to be MacGyver’s side-kick, aka a giant ball of duct tape.”

So I’ve been hearing rumblings about Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary offering a B.A. in Humanities with a concentration in homemaking. My initial response was a roll o’the eyes: ah, Southern Baptists - thanks for adding fuel to the fire so now more women will be coming to Northwest Emerging Women Leaders events because they’ve been squashdicated in their own denomination.

But then the other day, in the midst of my Halloween conundrum (seriously: I’m not paying $20 for a costume for Abel to wear for ten minutes and then poop on), I thought, “Hmmm: I bet it’s nice to sew, to know what to do with a sewing machine.” And I read a friend’s post about how she orders her day: vacuuming one day, dusting another - what a novel idea! I tend to do those things as part of my aerobic “Oh my gosh people are coming over and the house is a mess and I’m so not a hostess and just a general AAAAAHHHHHH” flurry of preparing for visitors. And let me tell ya: my fam LOVES it when I do this! Cause oh, I’m just a ball of light and graciousness, muttering around the house while wiping everything down with either a Chlorox wipe or Swiffer cloth (see, I don’t even know how to clean. Someone save my kids: Jason knew what he was getting into when he saw my apartment before we got married. Let’s just say I had lived there for two years, and my bed was an air mattress and my bookshelves were liquor boxes: if you’re kind, you’ll just call me eco-friendly :)).

You know: it might be nice to take those classes.

Now, I’m not saying that all women should take courses. And I’m not saying the woman’s place is only in the home. [I also don't dig the fact that guys can't take these classes, but that's a whole other post.] But it seems that today these elements that were passed down from generation to generation just aren’t being passed; either we don’t see the relevance, or we don’t care, or we’re too busy to form relationships with those who could teach us.

As I’ve become friends with women at Bible Fellowship, I’ve been able to share with them my feeble attempts at knitting (which, I just found out last year that I’ve been doing it backwards - hurrah for self-teaching). My dinner swap group has shared recipes and tricks to make food look like Ina Garten came to whip up something “delicious and elegant and so savory for Jeffrey” (lucky Jeffrey). And Flylady: your system may be overly ambitious for this writing/lit/religion/history major, but at least I can glean more doable systems from your readers who submit their comments. And yes: my sink is shiny.

The views shared by the woman in this article struck a chord with me: she spoke sense and reason into the whole “homemaking course” situation. Plus, she seems like one who knows how to make a baked potato in the microwave without short-circuiting the house.

Last week there was a flurry in the emerging conversation blogs regarding, as Bob so eloquently puts it, Battle of the Mars Hills. Basically one pastor, whose podcast I listen to, called another pastor, whose podcast I listen to, not so biblically-based. Which, since I hear adult conversation more from these folks that I do in my unplugged life, is somewhat hard for a personality type that desires peaceful relations at all times. It’s sort of like two big brothers aren’t getting along, or one big brother is talking smack about the other, and I just want to bake cookies for everyone to make them happy and agreeable. Because nothing makes people happy and agreeable like Giant Ginger Cookies.

While working on a Beth Moore lesson from my Women’s Bible Fellowship study, I came across an interesting section that seemed to apply to this situation as well as my daily life. The study is on the Fruit of the Spirit: Living Beyond Ourselves. In week two she’s looking at what it means to live by the spirit. This chapter focused on what it means to be spiritually mature. She outlines three types of folks: the natural man (without the Spirit), the carnal man (have accepted the Spirit but have not been transformed), and the spiritual man.

“Finally, let’s look at the third type of person. The Apostle Paul calls this person the spiritual man. First Corinthians 2:15 tells us that “the spiritual man makes judgments about all things.” The Greek word is anakrino, and it means “to discern, judge, to examine accurately or carefully.” What are the things we are to discern or judge? Look back at 2:14: “the things that come from the Spirit.” The spiritual man does not judge people. He or she judges “things.” Very specifically, those “things that come from the Spirit.”

No wonder Galatians 6:1 says only those “who are spiritual” should restore one who has fallen. Only a spiritual person could judge the situation without judging the sinner [emphasis mine]. Go back and review the passage. God even warns that the spiritual individual must restore very carefully and soberly, “or you also may be tempted.”! The spiritual man is constantly aware of the fine line which separates him from the carnal man — a moment’s hestitation.”

I found that interesting, and incredibly challenging. What does that look like? I know I judge people, i.e. live out of the Spirit: so what would it look like to judge things rather than people? How am I called to posture myself so that the Spirit may change that carnalness in me?

Does this resonate with you? Have you experienced this in your life? I’m curious to hear experiences: helps me put things into better context and to contend better with the anxty relationships.

Normally I’m not so pro-girly products, but this new onslaught of the Dove campaign energizes (and sickens) me. I find myself glad that I don’t have any daughters, although I wonder what the male equivalent campaign would look like.