Archive | Church Matters

Rose-Colored Wrecks, Edgy Angels

I dreamed a very generous friend took me on what was ostensibly a road trip but really a mission to Harvey Weinstein’s. She claimed to be counseling him in his “convalescence,” but I could see I was going to have to bite a hand that was feeding me, because fuck that shit. I was pissed I now knew the location of his secret lair, even more pissed I found it enviable with soaring ceilings, forest views, loads of pink light. I didn’t see Harvey–my friend was upstairs with the “client”–but my awareness of him was like someone had shoved a pile of shit beneath a million-dollar rug; you could smell but couldn’t see his rotting decadence. I wanted so much to write a whole novel on his enormous pale velvet couch but instead had to go. Of course being me I fled only to realize I’d left everything I needed behind. To wit:
Continue Reading →

The Church of Ruby Sales’ Radical Love

Today I had the great honor of witnessing legendary freedom fighter Ruby Sales talk with Middle Collegiate Church Reverend Dr. Jacqui Lewis in a Q&A entitled “Redeem the Soul of America.” On the docket: Martin Luther King Jr., the SNCC, #blacklivesmatter, the spiritual void of racist capitalism, the colonization of African-American music, and the history of patriarchal white supremacy in the GOP. Miss Ruby took us on such a profound 90-minute journey that it’s impossible to enumerate all her points—she’s against social media-sized reductions, anyway (read books! she said)— but one statement rings in my ears. “I’m not about breaking glass ceilings. I’m about building a new roof.” Listen to this clip of her revolutionary love here.

The Church of Love and Night

Two years ago I wept through Christmas Eve services at my beloved Middle Church not because of the love pouring through the story, but because a man I adored chose not to accompany me. Through the holidays that year, he disappeared as was his wont from time to time, and I grew so sick from heartbreak that I rattled whenever I breathed. When I finally healed I promised myself I’d never let a callow lover hold me hostage again–that the serenity of solitude would forever be my ideal way to commune with the universe.

Last year I attended these services by myself and wept only because of the light they shed in the dark–for the brilliance living at the core of every faith’s winter solstice story. It was good. But last night a cabal of esteemed witches came along to share borscht and candles and the big tears borne of hope, not despair. And it reminded me: No matter what we are told, we do not need others to be whole. But we must hold them as sacred as we do ourselves, today and every day. Love and light to you all.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy