“They Called Him Blessed”

Signs made by Sunday School children for the Palm Sunday procession.

A Meditation on Palm Sunday
By Magdalena I. García

“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”
John 12:13

He went into their crowded city
and received much recognition.
They called him “Blessed,”
because they were crushed
by the weight of impotence.
It was a cry born out of captivity;
a chant that expressed
their deepest yearning.

He stands outside our crowded city
and is often denied admission.
We don’t call him “Blessed,”
because we are puffed
by the illusion of sufficiency.
It is a silence born out of apathy;
a muteness that reflects
our deepest pride.

Except that once in a while,
when we get into a tight spot,
we name him in our pedestrian supplications.

We call him Tylenol:
Jesus is a proven analgesic
when we need to find relief
from relentless aches and pains.

We call him Ajax:
Jesus is a potent cleanser
when we need to be released
from sticky situations.

We call him Starbucks:
Jesus is a quick booster
when we need to be uplifted
from discouragement and gloom.

We call him Gatorade:
Jesus is a reliable energizer
when we need to gather strength
to outperform competitors.

We call him Crazy Glue:
Jesus is a secure adhesive
when we need to put back together
the pieces of our broken lives.

He stands outside our crowded lives
awaiting invitation.
Will we go proudly on our way
hushing our deepest longings?
Or will we join the chorus of pilgrims
that humbly confess their yearnings,
crying, “Blessed...Blessed...Blessed.”

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March 16 - Schools Flunking Obesity Prevention

My son's dirty gym shoes sitting on a newspaper by the front door tell the story of an active life style.

By Magdalena I. García

As I write this, I have lentils simmering on the stove, made from scratch, with carrots and plátano verde (green plantain). That will be my family’s dinner tonight (and perhaps for a couple of days, as long as the beans last). My 12-year-old son loves beans of all colors: black, brown, pinto, white, split pea; in fact, he craves them. And he eats other things most kids won’t touch with a ten-foot pole, like sardines and spinach. He is also physically active, so chances are pretty good that he won’t become obese or have serious health problems later in life. But such is not the case with most kids raised in the US, including those growing up in Hispanic/Latin households.

Almost every day we find news headlines related to this subject. Today All Things Considered, a program aired by National Public Radio (NPR), had a story by Patti Neighmond on this subject titled “U.S. Youth Likely to Face Greater Health Issues.” She points out a statistic so familiar that it no longer shocks us: two-thirds of Americans are overweight or obese. And these unhealthful behaviors have unfortunately spread to children.

According to Pediatrician Amy Porter, who runs a weight management program for Kaiser Permanente in Southern California and was interviewed by Neighmond, “this may be the first generation of children who may not live as long as their parents.” Why? Because of obesity related diseases. Allow me to quote another portion of the story:

“Porter points to what used to be considered ‘adult diseases,’ like diabetes and high blood pressure, which are now being seen in obese kids. She says she sees teenagers who have knee and joint problems so severe they need to consult orthopedists. And sleep apnea, which is often a symptom of obesity, is also showing up in record numbers among kids.”

With such alarming statistics, can somebody explain to me why the public school system eliminated daily recess, offers physical education only a couple of times a week (in the upper grades they often sit and study health instead of doing cardiovascular activity), and serves low quality lunches? It seems to me that no matter what the standard achievement test scores might be on other subjects, our schools are flunking obesity prevention. And unlike middle-class families, most working-class people don’t have the time nor the resources to enroll their children in paid sports or extra-curricular activities. Parents, teachers, doctors, religious leaders, and the community as a whole need to become stronger advocates for a truly rounded education, one that is less obsessed with preparing to do well on tests and more focused on developing healthy life-long habits: including self-care.

To read the complete NPR report go to:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124738305

March 15 - Hold That Label!

My son's tonsils before surgery three years ago, which included adenoids and ear tubes.

By Magdalena I. García

I was driving to work this morning listening to National Public Radio when I heard a fascinating report about the effects of temporary hearing loss due to ear infections. As the mother of a 12-year old who had ear infections back-to-back for the first six years of his life (until we started figuring out the allergies), this report caught my attention.

To make a long story short, Deborah Franklin reports that “research in rats just published in the journal Neuron suggests there might be effects in the brain that, while not permanent, can last for years. Apparently, hearing loss in one ear during critical periods of brain development can rewire the auditory cortex, changing the way it processes sound.” It sounds serious, and it is!

Franklin is quoting the Neuron study by neurobiologist Dan Polley, who recently moved to Harvard and the Massachusetts Eye and Ear Infirmary in Boston, and who conducted the research with a colleague, Maria Popescu, while at Vanderbilt University. According to Polley, “a child with that sort of problem might withdraw in a noisy classroom, or—depending on when the imbalance occurs—might miss milestones in language or learning.” But there is hope. “Though it can take a while, the brain is pretty good at developing workarounds, Polley says. Restore hearing, and the brain will eventually catch up.

Well, it’s good to know the brain will eventually catch up, but the school system might not. Or, until it does, it might want to put all kinds of labels on your child, like ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) or ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). So beware, parents of the world. And work with your pediatricians, allergists, and other specialists And listen to your heart. And stand up for your child. And, most of all, don’t let the school system label your child unnecessarily or prematurely. The fact that they may have unused labels sitting around, staff positions to justify, or lack of remedial programs does not make it right to label a child without an adequate diagnosis.

To read the entire report to go:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2010/03/temporary_hearing_loss_in_kids.html

March 14 - Prayers of the People: Building a New World

Detail from a chapel window at Ravenswood Presbyterian Church, in Chicago.

By Magdalena I. García

There was a lot to pray for in church today. Yes, the parishioners usually bring in their laundry lists of relatives and dear ones who are ill, dying, or struggling with life. And don’t get me wrong, I have my own list of mortals for whom I pray. But part of my job on Sunday morning as pastor of a congregation is to remind them that we are part of the church universal and the world, and that we, therefore, pray not just for ourselves. And so this morning we prayed for...

+ A church as hospitable as God’s grace, that we might be able to embody the prodigal God to all who long for a welcome and acceptance;

+ Health care reform, that our legislators might put aside politics and self-interest and vote for a plan to benefit the 45 million uninsured in our country;

+ Immigrants in the US, that there might be a just immigration reform so that worker abuse and family separation might cease;

+ Haiti and Chile, that aid might continue to flow following the earthquakes until order is re-established and everyone’s well-being is assured;

+ Colombia’s congressional elections, that elected leaders might be able to stop the violence against civilians and the displacement of innocent people;

+ Israel and Palestine, that Israeli’s territorial expansion might cease so that peace talks might have a chance…

The list could go on. Truly depressing. I guess that’s why some folks would rather go to the mall on Sunday morning. Is praying for all these things a waste of time? Absolutely not! Even if you don’t believe in the power of prayer, naming the evils in our society is an important step towards building a new world.

March 13 - Tea Party or Ostrich Stew?

We see you, Mr. Ostrich, so no use hiding! Image found online without source.

By Magdalena I. García

“For decades, faith and family have been at the center of the conservative movement. But as the Tea Party infuses conservatism with new energy, its leaders deliberately avoid discussion of issues like gay marriage or abortion,” thus affirms an article by Kate Zernike, written for the nytimes.com and published yesterday. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/13/us/politics/13tea.html?hp). The title of the article is “Tea Party Avoids Divisive Social Issues.” The article goes on to explain that the motto of the group is “fiscal responsibility, limited government, and free markets,” an emphasis that is quite different from the 1990s Contract with America manifesto, which heavily emphasized family values.

Why the switch? The article answers the question. “Tea Party leaders argue that the country can ill afford the discussion about social issues when it is passing on enormous debts to future generations. But the focus is also strategic: leaders think they can attract independent voters if they stay away from divisive issues.”

At first glance, this seems like ostrich politics: bury your head deep in the sand and pretend eveything is fine. But in defense of the poor ostrich, I just read an entry at nationalgeographic.com that says this is not true (http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/birds/ostrich/). “Contrary to popular belief, ostriches do not bury their heads in the sand. The old saw probably originates with one of the bird’s defensive behaviors. At the approach of trouble, ostriches will lie low and press their long necks to the ground in an attempt to become less visible. Their plumage blends well with sandy soil and, from a distance, gives the appearance that they have buried their heads in the sand.”

So, what do you know! That’s even better. It is indeed a total case of ostrich politics: lie low and become less visible, in order to fool your enemy! Perhaps this political group should consider changing its name. How about “Ostrich Stew” instead of “Tea Party?”

March 12 - Market Day: Mackerel

A large can of mackerel from Poland contains two fillets and costs only about $2.

By Magdalena I. García

Did you ever learn to do the “Macarena”? It’s a Spanish song about a woman of the same name. It was originally recorded by Los del Rio, two brothers from Southern Spain who were hardly known outside their country until the mid 1990s when, out of the blue, this song set a new record by staying at the top of music charts for weeks and weeks (read about it at:
http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=2402). But “Macarena” is more than a song; it is a wonderful group dance that captivated audiences of all ages. It is still a favorite at block parties and wedding receptions. And it’s good for cardiovascular health, just like its cousin, the mackerel.

A few years ago, when we started eating more fish in order to get my husband’s cholesterol level under control, we read all about Omega-3 fatty acids. According to the American Heart Association, “fatty fish like salmon, mackerel, herring, lake trout, sardines and albacore tuna are high in two kinds of omega-3 fatty acids … which have demonstrated benefits at reducing heart disease.” You can read more about this by visiting the American Heart Association page online: http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=4632.

Well, we knew about salmon, trout, sardines, and tuna, but mackerel and herring were not on our culinary radar. So we started looking around, and we found them: fresh, smoked and canned. They are readily available at international markets that sell imported products. Poland, for example, is a big exporter of mackerel. And since we did not know what the fish was called in Spanish, sometimes we would jokingly call it “Macarena.” We eventually looked up “mackerel” in an English-Spanish dictionary and learned it’s called “caballa.” This literally means “female horse”, although horse in Spanish is “caballo” for the male and “yegua” for the female, so go figure.

Anyway, if you’re looking for ways to reduce cholesterol and increase your intake of Omega-3 fatty acids with food instead of pills, we highly recommend mackerel. You can eat it with crackers, rice, pita, bread or pasta. It has a distinctive flavor that is not too fishy, and leaves no bad after taste. Huh…I wonder if the little boy who shared his lunch with Jesus and the disciples had mackerel in his lunch sack?! One thing is for sure: he did not have a recording of Los del Rio. But you can do the “Macarena” as you munch; it can only improve your cardiovascular health.

March 11 - Chasing Will-o’-the-wisps

Most innovations in ministry are uphill battles, but serving Bustelo Cappuccino was actually a snap. Want to taste it? Visit: http://cafebustelo.com/.

By Magdalena I. García

I have a weakness for words, so it was easy for my friend and ministry colleague J. to get me hooked on Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day. Now, every morning, when I open my inbox, I have a new word to chew on: my etymological daily bread, if you will. Today’s entry was “will-o’-the-wisp” and it means:
1 : a light that appears at night over marshy ground
2 : a misleading or elusive goal or hope

Now, there is a word I can use! For example, next time I have to fill out a registration form, a credit application, or a marketing survey that asks about my occupation, I can enter: “chasing will-o’-the-wisps” (and please interpret with definition number two above). After all, on most days, that’s exactly what I seem to do as a minister and pastor. Yes, a lot of my work is about chasing “elusive goals and hopes!” Here is a sampling:

+ Trying to get members to make church participation a priority, instead of one more thing on the list of optional activities: a will-o’-the-wisp.
+ Trying to get a 100-year-old church to think outside the box, instead of perpetuating mission strategies from decades ago: a will-o’-the-wisp.
+ Trying to get my presbytery to make urban ministry a priority, instead of closing down churches in multicultural contexts: a will-o’-the-wisp.
+Trying to get my denomination to welcome all God’s children, instead of commissioning more studies on human sexuality: a will-o’-the-wisp.
+ Trying to get espresso served at coffee hour: well, I actually had better luck with this one; we’ve served instant cappuccino thanks to the generous donations of my uncle M., who is a Bustelo Coffee representative, so we’re getting close!

Regardless, I can genuinely claim “chasing will-o’-the-wisps” as my occupation. And, as illustrated above, I can explain it to the Internal Revenue Service on the 1040 long form. Besides, considering that most folks don’t really want to talk to a pastor—unless they are in need of a favor or in serious trouble—this will at least make for a good conversation starter. Try it and let me know how it goes.

March 10 - Obsolete Occupations

Branding of slaves: nice to know that's an obsolete occupation. Picture found online with no date or source.

By Magdalena I. García

Yesterday I came across a really neat National Public Radio photo essay titled “The Jobs of Yesteryear: Obsolete Occupations.” It highlights 12 occupations that have pretty much disappeared thanks to the advent of computers and technology, including: lector, elevator operator, copy boy, pinsetter, river driver, iceman, lamplighter, milkman, switchboard operator, typist in a typist pool, typesetter, and telegraph operator.

As I looked at the pictures, one of the first things that caught my eye was that only three of the twelve jobs were available to women: pinsetter, switchboard operator, and typist in a typist pool. On top of that, all three of these jobs were quite repetitive, with little room for personal expression. It would have been so much more interesting to be a lector, someone paid to read newspapers in cigar factories (not that I smoke, but I love the aroma; besides cigars in Tampa among Cuban expatriates would surely be accompanied by espresso). And I know plenty of adventurous women who would have been delighted to serve as river drivers, floating logs downriver to sawmills. But this was all long before Equal Employment Opportunities (EEO) laws.

As we celebrate the International Day of Working Women this week, we should rejoice that we have come such a long way, at least in most developed countries and Western culture, where women have access to education and practically all professions. Of course there are still barriers to overcome—from the corporate ceiling to the stained-glass ceiling—but great progress has been made. So we should be thankful for that, and celebrate the women who have paved the way.

The other thought I had as I read the photo essay is that it’s not necessarily a bad thing for some occupations and professions to be endangered. Can you imagine the day when Christians take their baptismal vows so seriously that there is no longer a need for ordained clergy? Can you conceive of a day when human beings have such high respect for life and for each other’s property that there is no longer a need for police officers? Can you picture a day when nations learn to live in peace and to share their resources, so that there is no longer a need for border patrols? We really ought to work harder at making more occupations obsolete.

To read the essay, see the accompanying photos, and hear some testimonials, visit: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124251060.

March 9 - Removing the Veil

A memoir of life in Afghanistan.

By Magdalena I. García

I just finished reading Kabul Beauty School: An American Goes Behind the Veil, by Deborah Rodriguez, the memoir of a Michigan hairdresser, who shortly after 9/11 joined a humanitarian organization and went off to Afghanistan, leaving behind her two young sons, her mother, and an abusive husband. This is the second book I read about life in Afghanistan (the first one was The Bookseller of Kabul and the next one will be Three Cups of Tea), in an effort to understand a bit more about a region of the world that is in the news every day, but which is a big blur to most Westeners.

Thanks to sponsorship from beauty companies, Debbie is able to start her own beauty training school for Afghan women. In a country where women are undervalued and denied education, going to beauty school offers them a chance to be more independent—from the fathers and husbands at whose mercy they live—or at least to minimize the abuse by getting out of the house and providing some much needed income.

Debbie introduces us to many of the women that she became friends with and their heartbreaking stories: from the student who needed help faking her virginity on her wedding night, to the young girl who is lured into prostitution with her father’s consent. But these women are resilient and determined to seize the opportunity to change their lives, even if that means assuming tremendous risks, so they pour into the beauty school and beg for a chance to enroll.

As I read the story, it struck me that the beauty school became for this women the kind of place that the church is meant to be: a much needed refuge and safe haven where those who are abused and persecuted can feel free to be themselves; a desperately needed learning center and supportive environment where those who are unschooled and unskilled can begin to build a life for themselves. We really need to work at removing the veil: the veil that conceals and restrains women in Afghanistan and other places, and the veil that covers our own eyes and prevents us from seeing the multiple ways in which we could be empowering others.

March 8 - Free from Rags and Linen

Towels I used for my talk, from left to right: a kitchen rag, a linen cloth, and a micro fiber towel.

By Magdalena I.García

Yesterday was “Celebrate the Gifts of Women Sunday” in church, so we had a special, bilingual liturgy that involved many of our women of all ages in leadership. We even included Sunday School girls, who shared how money from a recent fundraiser was used to buy chickens, a sheep and a goat for poor families in Third World countries through the Heifer International. I was off the hook on preaching, but I felt I should say something during announcements time about the nature of the celebration, so here is what I did: an object talk for everyone, instead of just for children, using three towels (a kitchen rag, a linen cloth, and a micro fiber towel). Here is more or less what I said:

“This towel (I held up the kitchen rag) reminds us that there was a day and age when women in general were considered no better than a kitchen rag: fit only for household chores. Unfortunately, even today there are societies that hold such a view of women, and limit them to the domestic realm. And worse yet, there are women, even right here in the US, who have such low self-esteem that they continue to believe that they don’t deserve to be treated better than a kitchen rag and, therefore, tolerate all forms of abuse.

“This towel (I held up the linen cloth) reminds us that there was also a day and age when the opposite was true: women in general were valued only for their physical appearance. Unfortunately, even today society continues to have such expectations of women. It’s no wonder that the cosmetics and fashion industry are so prosperous. And worse yet, there are many women who continue to believe that their worth is tied to their beauty, and who submit their bodies to all kinds of abuse.

“But this towel (I help up the micro fiber towel) reminds us that a new day has dawned, one where women are valued for their gifts and treated as partners. This is a micro fiber, multi-purpose towel. It can be used every day and anywhere. It’s appropriate for all kinds of tasks, from the house, to the car, to the office, to the church. It’s soft but not fragile. It’s strong but not rough. It’s beautiful but not useless. May we renew our commitment today to continue working together to build a better world, one where both women and men are valued, and where we work side by side as partners in God’s service.”

March 7 - Entertaining Angels

"This is my body, given for you...and for you too."

By Magdalena I. García

Last Tuesday we welcomed an angel into our home, and she came disguised as a stranger. One of my friends and colleagues in ministry was looking for a place where her sister could stay for two nights, and I offered our home. M.F. is working on a Ph.D., and she came to Chicago for a conference held at a fancy hotel downtown, where the daily rates are prohibitive for a graduate student. We are grateful for the hospitality extended to us by family and friends when we travel, so we look forward to the opportunity to extend the same grace to others.

I was at the end of an evening meeting at church when I finally got a call from M.F. She was done for the day and ready to come home, so I gave her precise directions to share with the taxi driver. By the time I got home, she was already there, getting the official house tour from my husband and son, and figuring out her sleeping arrangement. After a brief introduction, we sat around the table and shared split pea soup and stories. It was a delightful conversation, so M.F. and I let the others slip away to bed, while we stayed up chatting until past midnight.

As we read in Hebrews 13:1-2, “Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” Well, let me tell you, this angel descended from Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and she brought with her a bright smile, multilingual conversation, roasted pecans, and milk and dark chocolate truffles. But like a true angel (from the Greek angelos, which means “messenger”), she also brought us a special word: the gift of dietary awareness.

You see, M.F. has wheat and gluten allergies. She travels with her special granola, and she told us about how important—and meaningful—it is to be offered wheat and gluten-free products at the communion table (i.e. the Eucharist). And she especially appreciates not being put on the spot for this, or being made to feel like she is imposing on church volunteers who apparently went to the Wonder Bread School and majored in cutting White slices into crustless cubes.

Today was the first Sunday of the month, and it was communion day for my church. So guess what I placed in the bread basket, alongside pan de Acámbaro (a beautiful Mexican loaf that resembles the texture of challah)? We served Blue Diamond brand, nut and rice crackers that are wheat and gluten free! And at least two of our members were surprised and thankful for the option. I wonder what other small miracles can happen in our lives if we open ourselves to the ministry of entertaining angels.

March 6 - Smartphone: Smart Move for Church?

The iPhone 3Gs, the toy I want for Christmas; better yet, let's make it Easter. For information on specifications and price, go to http://store.apple.com/us.

By Magdalena I. García

Today I attended the annual training day for my presbytery, better known as LEAD( Leadership, Education and Development for the Whole Church), along with a couple of lay leaders from the congregation I serve. As in previous years, this full-day event included continental breakfast and lunch, worship, bookstore, a table of crafts from around the world sold by Ten Thousand Villages, and, last but not least, two sessions of workshops on a wide range of topics.

In the morning I attended a workshop titled “Facebook (etc.) for Dummies,” which was an overview of new social-networking technologies—such as Facebook, Twitter, and Flickr—and the way these are being used to support and enhance ministries within our congregations, especially with children and youth. A group of about 20 mature leaders sat around a long table, facing two screens where a live connection to the internet was projected so that we could tour the referenced sites. About half the group seemed somewhat knowledgeable and comfortable with the subject, while others seemed clueless and perhaps a bit too overwhelmed with so much knew information to even dare ask any questions.

As the presentation progressed, we landed on the subject of smartphones (an interesting, and somewhat offensive term that suggests all other devices are dumb phones!). According to Wikipedia.com, “There is no industry standard definition of a smartphone. For some, a smartphone is a phone that runs complete operating system software providing a standardized interface and platform for application developers. For others, a smartphone is simply a phone with advanced features like e-mail, Internet and e-book reader capabilities, and/or a built-in full keyboard or external USB keyboard and VGA connector. In other words, it is a miniature computer that has phone capability.”

Then we learned that there are conversations underway to explore the use of smartphones during presbytery assemblies. Of course, we know this is already going on, as we see people handling their electronic devices instead of giving full attention to the discourse on the floor of the assembly, although few of them are on call for a life or death situation. Multitasking? Ahhhh...yes; however, in my book this is not exactly the same as knitting. But the workshop presenters continued to sing the glories of “real time” communication.

As I look back, I wonder...is immediacy the most important aspect of communication, especially for the church? Will the presbytery provide smartphones, training, and a stipend so that all commissioners—including lay members who don’t get allowances paid by the church—can afford this technology? Will we be creating second or third-class commissioners by allowing the use of powerful tools—for communication, strategy and politics—that only some (perhaps a minority at this point) can afford?

It seems to me that we already have enough disparities in the house, and an urgent need to tear down the walls that impede in-depth conversation. I clearly see how introducing smartphones into the mix can be a clever move for the elite, but I honestly fail to see how this would be a smart move for an already fragmented and segregated church. I’m going to chew on this for a while, knowing that I might just be persuaded, especially when the next generation of Apple iPhone starts making espresso!

March 5 - Prayer and Action: Inseparable Partners

Artwork created by artist Reine Claire Nkombo, who is originally from the Democratic Republic of Congo but now lives in Yaounde, Cameroon. The piece is titled "Praise the Eternal (God)," and is reflective of the culture, showing market women and others carrying out their daily routines, which includes the praising of God. The piece was commissioned by the World Day of Prayer German Committee who also owns the copyright for the artwork. More at http://www.wdpusa.org/.

By Magdalena I. García

Today is World Day of Prayer (WDP), a worldwide ecumenical movement of Christian women of many faith traditions who come together to observe a common day of prayer each year on the first Friday in March. Contrary to what most of us might be inclined to think, this is not just a day for quiet meditation, much less for isolation. It is a day to join sisters all over the world in spirit, and to renew our commitment to support each other and to work for a better world.

The celebration website (http://www.wdpusa.org/) states that WDP’s motto is “Informed prayer leads to prayerful action.” What a beautiful and challenging motto! What does it mean to practice informed prayer? I think it means that we need to listen to each other, to study the Scriptures together, to read broadly, to watch more than one news source, to step outside our close circle of family and friends, to learn a foreign language, and so on, so that we know how to pray for God’s world. And what does it mean to engage in prayerful action? I think it means that we don’t just become busy bees or eager beavers, carrying on with habits without questioning their validity and impact. I think it means that we stop and reflect on our actions every step of the way, and, as necessary, we change course.

It’s a simple motto, but a tough task. If one listens to the prayers offered in church week after week, one quickly hears that they are mostly informed by personal and congregational wants, rather than community or global needs. And if one watches the actions carried on in church week after week, one soon notices that they are mostly shaped by personal and congregational traditions, rather than community or global cries.

“Through World Day of Prayer, women affirm that prayer and action are inseparable and that both have immeasurable influence in the world,” reads the website. Today would have been the 53rd birthday of my friend C., who died of breast cancer 12 years ago. She was a woman of prayer and action, whose short life dedicated to social service in the inner city continues to be an inspiration for many, and whose legacy continues to provide scholarships for people who want to pursue her same career path. The world would be well served if more Christians, like my friend C., and even people of other faiths, adopted the WDP motto not just for one day, but for every day.

March 4 - From Despair to Hope

At the Chicago Botanic Garden, a bridge connects the mainland to the islands of the Japanese Garden.

By Magdalena I. García

March 7 will be the Third Sunday in Lent as well as “Celebrate the Gifts of Women Sunday,” and my congregation usually opts for the latter emphasis. As the denominational resources emphasize, this special day “honors women who contribute their gifts to the church and community, and lifts up issues of women’s rights.” And it ties in with International Women's Day (March 8), which is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future.

This year, we have decided to celebrate the day by involving as many women as possible in the Sunday service. They will greet, read, sing, pray, collect the offering, serve communion, and even share a brief Biblical reflection (we won’t call it a homily or sermon so they don’t get scared!). I’m preparing the order of worship editing and translating the suggested liturgy as needed, and I will sort of serve as floor manager and station announcer for the day. Regardless, I must be ready to fill in, and even preach, if something goes wrong at the last minute, so I have read the Scripture for the day, especially the Gospel passage, and I’ve done some reflection. Enough for three minutes in each language—English and Spanish—just in case I have to be the replacement batter. (Can you believe that some people will actually think I have a day off?!)

It’s a familiar story from John 11:17-27, involving Jesus’ closest friends: Lazarus, Martha and Mary, the Bethany siblings. The story tells us that when Jesus finally rolls into town, Lazarus has been in the tomb four days. Yikes! That would not place Jesus very high on the list of candidates for pastor, chaplain, or pastoral care director. Martha runs out to meet Jesus and spits out, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Ouch! What a burn! Or is it? You know, this is sort of like getting an email. One has to decide what tone, emotions, and gestures should be attached to the words. Martha goes on, and her next sentence helps us to adequately cast the previous one, “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”

As I read the passage, the two phrases that jumped out at me were “if you had been here” and “even now.” Seems simple, right? But there is a deep and wide gulf that separates the two. On one shore we have despair; on the other, hope. How does one make the journey from troubled waters to calm sea? It takes a special bridge, and a determination to walk across it. Martha finds it. How about you and me? Can we take the leap from despair to hope?

March 3 - Wearing a Dead Bird?

It's liberating to realize how the fashion of one day is the outrage of the next.

By Magdalena I. García

If you live in a city like Chicago, whether you are fashion conscious or not, your morning ritual always includes listening to the weather forecast and pondering what to wear. The weather in Chicago is so unpredictable that it’s not uncommon to hear people say, “You don’t like the forecast? Just wait 24 hours and it will change!” And depending on the season, you might need to wear next to nothing or several layers of clothing. However, I must admit that no matter what the forecast said, I’ve never considered wearing a dead bird...on my head.

But that’s just what some proper and fashionable 19th Century Boston women did: they paraded around town with dead birds perched upon their heads! That is, until Harriet Hemenway and her cousin Minna Hall gathered together the most prominent people—i.e. men—in the area to form a club to protect the birds: the Massachusetts Audubon Society, named after John Audubon, the famous painter of birds. Through personal persuasion, letter campaigns, visits to schools, and appeals to professional men, Harriet and Minna attain nationwide attention and the passage of bird protection acts. It’s an enthralling tale of the humble and beginnings of one of America’s oldest and most successful preservation groups.

My son M. and I read story last week in She’s Wearing a Dead Bird on Her Head!, a children’s book written by Newbery Honor recipient Kathryn Lasky, and illustrated by David Catrow, an illustrator of books for children and a syndicated political cartoonist. The book is a marvelous tribute to the efforts of women, especially in an era when they could not vote and had no say in how the world was run. It’s a wonderful piece to read as part of the annual celebration of International Women’s Day, which is usually commemorated—in church and society—on or around March 8.

But the book also invites us to ponder if we might be wearing a dead bird on our head. What issues of justice might be staring us in the face today, that perhaps have become so fashionable—or commonplace—that we no longer see them? I pray that we might be receptive to the Harriet’s and Minna’s who are likely to condemn our lifestyle and challenge our way of thinking. And I pray that we might set the birds free, so that other ideas can nest on our heads.

To learn more about this subject visit the National Audobon Society at: http://www.audubon.org/.

March 2 - Pest Control

The Travel Tent, a portable mosquito net available from http://www.longroad.com/cgi-local/SoftCart.100.exe/?E+scstore.

By Magdalena I. García


Fly spray: an old favorite toy weapon from my childhood. Photo taken from Wikipedia.com: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fly_spray.

Ever since I was a child I’ve been terrified of mice and rats. I attribute this to the fact that in Cuba we lived next door to my father’s grocery store, where plenty of rodents made their home among the sacks of rice, beans, sugar and other goods. I also was afraid of dogs, because one of our neighbors had a dog who always barked loudly at all the kids. One time this obnoxious canine chased me, jumping and growling, and sunk its teeth into my heel. But perhaps the worst plague was dealing with mosquitoes.

In the Caribbean mosquitoes are a constant annoyance. They never quite go away, and during the rainy season they are present en masse even in the city. They buzz loudly as they fly past your ear, and bite much faster than you can manage to fan them or slap them off your skin.

In the Cuba of my childhood, our standard protection against this pest included the use of mosquiteros (mosquito nets). I still remember how our bedtime ritual included putting up four sticks with a hook or nail at the top, one on each corner of the bed, so that we could hang our mosquito net. Then you had to crawl into bed, being careful not to let any mosquitoes in, and pull the edge of the mosquitero under the mattress.

For the long, hot evenings when mosquitoes invaded our living room and made it almost impossible to sit still, the line of defense included an old can with a pump attached: fly spray. I’m not exactly sure what kind of funky-smelling insecticide was stored in the can, but it worked. And kids loved to get a chance to try their hand at the pump.

Every once in a while I have to put up with the buzzing and biting of people who can be more annoying than a plague of Caribbean mosquitoes. At such moments, how I wish I could reach for that old spray can, or hide under the mosquitero. How I wish I could find the right way to say: “The bug stops here!”

March 1 - Pan Mówić Polski?

Illinois enacted a law on June 20, 1977, to celebrate the birthday of Casimir Pulaski and held the first official Pulaski Day celebrations in 1978. Photo taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casimir_Pulaski_Day.

By Magdalena I. García

Today was a school holiday, Pulaski Day. You’d think we know what this means since we live in Chicago, where we have a street with the same name. But it seems like every year we look this up and then forget the details again. So here is the scoop according to Wikipedia.org:

“Casimir Pulaski Day is a holiday observed in Illinois on the first Monday of every March in memory of Casimir Pulaski (March 6, 1745 – October 11, 1779), a Revolutionary War cavalry officer born in Poland as Kazimierz Pułaski. He is known for his contributions to the U.S. military in the American Revolution by training its soldiers and cavalry. The day is celebrated mainly in areas that have large Polish populations, such as Chicago...”

My neighbor D. is of Polish descent; my friend S. is of Polish descent; my son’s school mate R. is of Polish descent. So how come we still don’t know who Pulaski is, or was? That’s not a whole lot better than the majority of the US population believing that all cinnamon-skin Hispanics are from Mexico and eat tacos. It goes to show you that although in a city like Chicago we are surrounded by ethnic neighborhoods with immigrants from around the world, most of us stay within our comfort zone. And that’s because being a multicultural person takes more than openness and curiosity; it takes effort.

Lucky for us, after Warsaw—the capital of Poland—Chicago has the largest Polish population. And Poles in Chicago are the largest White American ethnic group in the city, making up 7.3% of the total population. So opportunities for learning about Polish culture are all around us. They are as close as a nearby delicatessen market, the Jefferson Park community on the north side, or the Polish Museum of America near downtown. Who knows, with a little effort, next year I might not only be able to explain who Pulaski was; I might be able to say: “Mówię po polsku” and a few more Polish phrases.