The Woman at the Well

'tis I, the delinquent blogger.

A deep and fresh Lent to those of you who observe it.

I will tell you in the next post (yes, there will be a next post) about my Lenten practice, but meanwhile, it is Year A for those Western Christians who live in lectionary-land, and Sunday is the day we hear about the woman at the well (a.k.a. the Samaritan woman) in the Gospel of John.

I am not preaching on Sunday (I'm on the following weekend with the story of the man born blind) but I did preach on this text many moons ago in the form of a kind of one-woman show, being the woman at the well several years after Jesus' visit, reminiscing. This was when I was a Catholic laywoman in full-time pastoral ministry, working as Social Justice Minister at Boston's Paulist Center. I posted the sermon on this blog three years ago, so here is the link if you want to read it or read it again. Enjoy.


"The Samaritan Woman at the Well" by He Qi

Shameless self-promotion, Lutheran department (w/ note to folks in Washington State, Idaho, Oregon, & British Columbia)

I know, Garrison Keillor says Lutherans don't do self-promotion, and he is right.  But I'm not a Lutheran, only a member of a church in full communion with the ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America)  and the [Lutheran] Church of Sweden who was mentored by several wonderful Lutheran clergymembers.  So I'll self-promote, briefly.

The July-August 2010 issue of Lutheran Woman Today, the magazine of Women of the ELCA, is hot off the press.  The whole issue is about prayer and I have a little article in it about praying in song called, amazingly, "Praying in Song."  It is not available online but I gather a few of the articles appear online the month after the magazine is published on paper.  In any case, you are welcome to contact the editorial offices for a copy of this issue or to subscribe to the magazine.  The folks there are very friendly.

A year from now, I will be one of the workshop and and worship leaders at the Women of the ELCA Triennial Gathering, July 14-16, 2011, in Spokane, Washington.  More on this gathering here. The four principal speakers include another Episcopal woman, the writer Nora Gallagher, Liberian peacemaker Leymah Gbowee (now living and working in Ghana), and two other wonderful women.

If you are in the Spokane area or anywhere in the Pacific Northwest, narrowly or broadly (from Spokane itself to the coast , up and down from British Columbia to Oregon or inland toward Idaho) and are interested in a piggyback speaking engagement (retreat, lecture, workshop, sermon, all of the above) my cross-country round trip to Spokane is already covered so it'll only cost you local transportation, honorarium & lodging, and you can do coalition funding with a cluster of congregations (think "ecumenical collaboration" and/or "regional cluster") or schools or other groups or institutions if your institution's budget is small.  

You can contact my publicist, Amanda Williams, at Ave Maria Press/Sorin Books, the paperback publisher of When in Doubt, Sing: Prayer in Daily Life, who will pass on your message and put you in touch with me, or you can leave me a note in the Comments section below with some contact information.

While most of my speaking engagements these days tend to be related to prayer and spirituality, I also preach, give retreats and days of recollection (a.k.a. "quiet days") and offer reflections on theology, social justice, the relationship between the contemplative life and the work of justice in the world, religion and the environment, feminism and the church, ecumenical and interreligious issues, racial justice and reconciliation in the church, and other topics.

A big thank you to Women of the ELCA for welcoming me to the pages of their magazine and to next year's gathering in Spokane!

Ruth Olver, R.I.P.

Two years ago my parents' dear friend John Olver died. I only wrote the first of two posts I had planned to write on him. We had a visiting lecturer from Botswana at school on almost-last-minute notice and I never got to write more. But the first post is here and will tell you a bit about him. (There is a good link to a short bio.) John was a warm, witty, intelligent man who worked for UNDP, the United Nations Development Programme, for most of his life. I think of him when I hear news of Gaza because he was one of the few people who managed to get anything done there. In his case, it was bringing fresh water to Gaza. He wrote a book about it, but I think it was a self-publish and never got out there into the wide world. I once saw a used copy on Amazon, though. It was called Roadblocks and Mindblocks: Partnering with The PLO and Israel.

John died in March of 2008, a month full of deaths and with Holy Week in it besides.

Today John's wife Ruth Olver died. Ruth and my mother met at Hunter College in uptown Manhattan when they were in their late teens. They used to study at the library together, taking turns napping. Later, when they were both married, the two couples became close friends and my mother became godmother to Ruth's second child, a daughter. I used to get hand-me-down clothes from Amy; they would arrive in a package at our house in Paris, all the way from wherever the Olvers were at the time. For a while they lived in Geneva.

We received news of Ruth's passing from Ruth and John's son this evening. (Interesting note: both he and I entered the Episcopal Church in our middle age.) Ruth had been very ill for several years. She had Parkinson's and other ailments, and she had recently turned 92 years old.

Ruth Olver was an early civil rights activist, attempting to integrate public facilities in Washington, D.C. in the early 1940s (as did my mother's late brother, Don Rothenberg). Her son wrote, "A brilliant woman of her generation, after her marriage to the late John Olver in 1944 she devoted herself to rasing her children and supporting the UN career of our late father. However, she was always very active in organizing schools, supplies and other social support for children wherever he served, especially in Libya and later in the Palestinian Territories."

In her forties, back in the U.S., Ruth became a psychiatric social worker. In addition to an active clinical practice, she was a pioneer in campaigning against spousal and other domestic abuse in Westchester County. (For those of you who don't know, that's a suburban county north of New York City; part of it is fancy shmancy and it also has middle-class neighborhoods and towns and pockets of poverty; domestic abuse does not know class lines.) Ruth was a founder of the Women's Justice Council, which lobbies the police and courts for justice for victim-survivors of domestic abuse and and provides childcare and other support to them while they are pursuing their rights. (I'm paraphrasing Richard's letter here.)

Ruth was a founder of My Sister's Place, a Westchester County shelter for victims of abuse. The family has requested that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to that shelter.

Please remember Ruth Olver and her children and grandchildren in your prayers. Remember also John, who preceded her in death two years ago and who like her worked for the good of humanity. Remember also my parents, who have yet again lost a dear friend of their generation.

International Women's Day: taking action

Casa Myrna Vasquez in Boston urges us to support

the International Violence Against Women Act.

So does Amnesty International-USA.

International Women's Day

In a post from a year ago an Irish feminist, Aileen O'Carroll, posted this photo from New York a century ago. (Thanks to Indymedia Ireland for hosting Ms. O'Carroll's post.)

... With no profit to be made out of it, Ms. O'Carroll writes, the day is not exactly one that jumps out and grabs the attention. International Women's Day is an expressly political day. In 1907 women sweatshop workers marched in New York and thus the first International Women's day was born. Often when women are celebrated it is because they are either cute (Valentine's Day) or caring (Mothers' Day).

There is nothing wrong with being cute or caring, but on International Women's day we get to highlight those of us who are politically active, those who are fighting for a better world, those who know that there can be a better world.

Silences, part 2

From Tillie Olsen's Silences (New York: Delacorte Press / Seymour Lawrence, 1978).

In case it is not obvious, italics in black are my words. The words in color are Olsen's.


Literary history and the present are dark with silences: some the silences for years by our acknowledged great; some silences hidden; some the ceasing to publish after one work appears; some the never coming to book form at all.

What is it that happens with the creator, to the creative process, in that time? What are creation's needs for full functioning? Without intention of or pretension to literary scholarship, I have had special need to learn all I could of this over the years, myself so nearly remaining mute and having to let writing die over and over again in me.

These are not natural silences--what Keats called agonie ennuyeuse (the tedious agony)--that necessary time for renewal, lying fallow, gestation, in the natural cycle of creation. The silences I speak of here are unnatural: the unnatural thwarting of what struggles to come into being, but cannot. In the old, the obvious parallels: when the seed strikes stone; the soil will not sustain; the spring is false; the time is drought or blight or infestation; the frost comes premature.

The great in achievement have known such silences --Thomas Hardy, Melville, Rimbaud, Gerard Manley Hopkins. They tell us little as to why or how the creative working atrophied and died in them--if ever it did.

...

Kin to these years-long silences are the hidden silences; work aborted, deferred, denied --hidden by the work which does come to fruition...

Censorship silences. Deletions, omissions, abandonment of the medium (as with Hardy); paralyzing of capacity (as Dreiser's ten-year stasis on Jennie Gerhardt after the storm against Sister Carrie). Publishers' censorship, refusing subject matter or treatment as "not suitable" or "no market for." Self-censorship. Religious, political censorship --sometimes spurring inventiveness--most often (read Dostoyevsky's letter) a wearing attrition.

The extreme of this: those writers physically silenced by governments. Isaac Babel, the year of imprisonment, what took place in him with what wanted to be written? Or in Oscar Wilde, who was not permitted even a pencil until the last month of his imprisonment?

Other silences. The truly memorable poem, story, or book, then the writer ceasing to be published. Was one work all the writers had in them (life too thin for pressure of material, renewal) and the respect for literature too great to repeat themselves? Was it "the knife of the perfectionist attitude in art and life" at their throat? Were the conditions not present for establishing the habits of creativity (a young Colette who lacked a Willy to lock her in her room each day)? or--as instanced over and over--other claims, other responsibilities so writing could not be first? (The writer of a class, sex, color still marginal in literature, and whose coming to written voice at all against complex odds is exhausting achievement.) It is an eloquent commentary that this one-book silence has been true of most black writers; only eleven in the hundred years since 1850 have published novels more than twice. [Olsen backs up her statement with a citation; note that she was speaking in 1962.]

There is a prevalent silence I pass by quickly, the absence of creativity where it once had been; the ceasing to create literature, though the books may keep coming out year after year...

...

Almost unnoted are the foreground silences, before the achievement. [T.O. names writers including George Eliot, Joseph Conrad, Isak Dinesen]-- all close to, or in their forties before they became published writers; [more names, including Laura Ingalls Wilder] in their sixties. Their capacities evident early in the "being one on whom nothing is lost;" in other writers' qualities. Not all struggling and anguished... ; some needing the immobilization of long illness or loss, or the sudden lifting of responsibility to make writing necessary, make writing possible; others waiting circumstances and encouragement...

Very close to this last grouping are the silences where the lives never came to writing. Among these, the mute inglorious Millions: those whose waking hours are all struggle for existence; the barely educated; the illiterate; women. Their silences the silence of centuries as to how life was, is, for most of humanity. Traces of their making, of course, in folk song, lullaby, language itself, jokes, maxims, superstitions--but we know nothing of the creators or how it was with them...


Olsen then quotes Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own, as one expects. I think of Alice Walker's title essay in In Search of Our Mother's Gardens about the creative gifts of Black women. Olsen also quotes Rebecca Harding Davis, who writes of the illiterate ironworker in Life in the Iron Mills who sculptured great shapes in the slag: "his fierce thirst for beautiy, to know it, to create it, to be something other than he is--a passion of pain."

....

..."Without duties, without almost without external communication," Rilke specifies, "unconfined solitude which takes every day like a life, a spaciousness which puts no limit to vision and in the midst of which infinities surround. "

Unconfined solitude as Joseph Conrad experienced it:
***"For twenty months I wrestled with the Lord for my creation... mind and will and conscience engaged to the full, hour after hour, day after day... a lonely struggle in a great isolation from the world. I suppose I slept and ate the food put before me and talked connectedly on suitable occasions, but I was never aware of the even flow of daily life, made easy and noiseless for me by a silent, watchful, tireless affection."

I'll bet that was a woman. Who was silent and watchful, that is, and made the food, and provided affection.

...

But what if there is not that fullness of time, let alone totality of self? What if the writers, as in some of these silences, must work regularly at something besides their own work--as do nearly all in the arts in the United Sates today.

I know the theory (kin to "starving in the garret makes great art") that it is this very circumstance which feeds creativity. .... But the actuality testifies: substantial creative work demands time, and with rare exceptions only full-time workers have achieved it. Where the claims of creation cannot be primary, the results are atrophy; unfinished work; minor effort and accomplishment; silences. (Desperation which accounts for the mountains of applications to the foundations for grants--undivided time-- in the strange bread-line system we have worked out for our artists.)

Twenty years went by on the writing of Ship of Fools, while Katherine Anne Porter, who needed only two, was "trying to get to that table, to that typewriter, away from my jobs of teaching and trooping this country and of keeping house: "Your subconscious needed that time to grow the layers of pearl," she was told. Perhaps, perhaps, but I doubt it. Subterranean forces can make you wait, but they are very finicky about the kind of waiting it has to be. Before they feed the creator back, they must be fed, passionately fed, what needs to be worked on. "We hold up our desire as one places a magnet over a composite dust from which the particle of iron will suddenly jump up," says Paul Valéry. A receptive waiting, that means, not demands which prevent "an undistracted center of being." And when the response comes, availability to work must be immediate. If not used at once, all may vanish as a dream; worse, future creation be endangered -- for only the removal and development of the material frees the forces for future work. ...

There is a life in which all this is documented: Franz Kafka's. For every one entry from his diaries here, there are fifty others than testify as unbearably to the driven stratagems for time, the work lost (to us), the damage to the creative powers (and the body) of having to deny, interrupt, postpone, put aside, let work die.

... [Excerpts from Kafka's diaries follow. Also comments on Rilke, who neglected and moved away from his wife and child to protect his poetry writing, and on marriage and childbearing and how rare, till recently, most women writers did not marry, or if they did, did not have children. Or if they did, they had household help.]

The power and the need to create, over and beyond reproduction, is native in both women and men. Where the gift among women (and men) have remained mute, or have never attained full capacity, it is because of circumstances, inner or outer, which oppose the needs of creation.

Wholly surrendered and dedicated lives; time as needed for the work; totality of self. But women are traditionally trained to place others' needs first, to feel these needs as their own...; their sphere, their satifaction to be in making it possible for others to use their abilities...

...

...[W]e are in a time of more and more hidden and foreground silences, women and men. Denied full writing life, more may try to "nurse through night" (that part-time, part-self night) "the ethereal spark," but it seems to me there would almost have had to be "flame on flame" first; and time as needed, afterwards; and enough of the self, the capacities, undamaged for the rebeginnings on the frightful task. I would like to believe this for what has not yet been written into literature. But it cannot reconcile for what is lost by unnatural silences.

*******Originally an unwritten talk, spoken from notes at the Radcliffe Institute in 1962, transcribed and edited, and published in this version in Harper's Magazine, October 1965.

Silences, part 1

The other night, on the PBS special on Zora Neale Hurston:

"There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you."

**************************************-- Zora Neale Hurston

To be continued.

Epiphany: another image

Best to let this one speak for itself.

"Epiphany," by Janet McKenzie (c) 2003.

For more on this work and on the artist, see here and here (on that site, there's more on "Epiphany" here).

Updating the book list, and a plug for Anita Diamant's new novel

I am digging out from under all manner of things. In the midst of this and the usual house-cleaning, literal and metaphorical, that accompanies the advent of Advent, I am updating this blog. I hadn't updated the reading list at the right in months. It isn't complete, but it gives you a snapshot of what I'm reading or re-reading these days.

The Aquino and Rosado-Nunes book is composed of the proceedings of the first Inter-American Symposium on Feminist Intercultural Theology. This was the first ever formal gathering of Latin American and U.S. Latina feminist theologians. Some social scientists also participated in the meeting. Why is this book significant? Because, one of its introductory essays notes, for the first time in the history of Christianity in the Americas, feminist theologians of the United States, Latin America, and the Caribbean were able to meet together to share our common concerns and visions about the present and the future of our theological work, on the basis of intercultural hermeneutical frameworks. ("Hermeneutical" in this case means "interpretive.")

The book by Renate Wind (which is way overdue at a certain library in California) is a biography, the first, I think, of the late Dorothee Sölle. {This next sentence added a day later after the original post:} Wind has previously written about Dietrich Bonhoeffer; it's not surprising she would be drawn to Sölle, who in so many ways was spiritual and theological heir to Bonhoeffer. The eco-books by McFague and Ruether (the Ruether one is an edited volume featuring writings from Asia, Africa, and Latin America) are triple-purpose books: they are part of my reading and referencing for the Big Tome; I have students reading a couple of them; and I am looking at them as I ponder my sermon for this coming Sunday, the first in Advent. I haven't preached since September. What does the environmental crisis have to do with Advent? You'll find out after I preach. Unless the Holy Spirit sends me in another direction.

I actually cheated by listing Anita Diamant's new book, Day after Night, because I read and finished it last weekend. Anita gave it to me last Friday when she came to my talk on prayer at Harvard (about which more later) and I started reading it that night and finished it on the first of my two plane flights the next day. It's both deep and a page-turner.


I am just starting Louise Erdrich's The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse, which a colleague lent me. "It's about a woman who dresses up as a man so she can work as a Catholic priest, so you can see why it made me think of you," he said. (!) The priest in the book is a member of the Ojibwe Nation, as is Erdrich.

You may or may not have noticed that these are the first fiction books I've listed in eons, or perhaps ever since I started blogging. I am starved for fiction and haven't let myself read any, except for the occasional mystery novel, in something like four years. Ridiculous. Just because I've been trying to finish a work of non-fiction doesn't mean I shouldn't be reading fiction. I find reading fiction life-giving. Do you?

Feast of Mary of Magdala, Apostle

Same sermon as the last two years, different art. Happy feast!

Iran, cont'd

Plenty of women out there apparently.

See photos at Paul's, also at The Daily Dish. Photos here from Boston.com (Boston Globe site).

Good point here about grains of salt re: the Tweet reporting and context. As the daughter, sister, and sister-in-law of foreign correspondents (and as a professor who gives all her classes a handout called text and context for use throught the semester) I have to agree.

Still, the cyber-reporting and -activism are vital to what is happening after the election fraud and coup. Also youth and women, apparently -- the youth part no accident (remembering the late 70s and the "Death to the Shah!" cries of young men).

More later -- writing deadline looms.

Live-tweeting the revolution

Thus reads a headline on Andrew Sullivan's blog, The Daily Dish. The new world of news. See that particular post here.

The Daily Dish homepage is here. Almost wall to wall Iran coverage since the election.

Meanwhile, U.S. television news (so I hear - I don't watch it) barely covered the Iranian elections aftermath on the weekend. I think they've caught up by now, but not in detail. I gather the reporting by the networks is even more shamefully awful than usual.

I've gotten most of my news so far --in snatches, in the car and the kitchen, because I am hoarding my writer's time-- from NPR. Haven't had, or taken, the time to supplement the bits of radio with reading, online or off.

I just took a five minute break from peaceful nighttime writing (yes, I had a late afternoon nap and an early evening walk) to check Andrew Sullivan's blog, which I don't usually read, but which has almost wall-to-wall Iran coverage including from Twitter. (I don't Tweet, either, but am struck by the use of Twitter in reporting from the grassroots.)

I wonder what Iranian women are doing and thinking. When the news talks about "Iranians in the streets" it means "Iranian men." The photos of street demonstrations show men. We do know that women voted in great numbers this time and are more than 50% of the voting population. Who is writing about the women?

Roxana Saberi tried and jailed in Iran

This news is all the more shocking because I have heard Ms. Saberi on the radio many times.

As regular readers of Acts of Hope know, I am particularly moved by stories on the jailing of journalists because so many members of my immediate family are or have been journalists themselves.

Roxana Saberi, a U.S. citizen, is the daughter of an Iranian father and a Japanese mother. She has been reporting from Iran for several Western news organizations. The government of Iran has accused her of spying.


If one of the international human rights organizations starts a letter campaign, I will follow up here.

Photo: Agence France-Presse

Alleluia in blue

He Qi, Women Arriving at the Tomb

Mothering Sunday - Laetare Sunday

It's Laetare Sunday here in the Western liturgical churches and Mothering Sunday in the Church of England. My friend Rob (aka Padre Rob+, with a gorgeous new blog that is almost all visual) sent this prayer earlier today with a Theotokos, using one of the Theotokos apps on Facebook. I'm not the greatest Anselm fan on the planet (understatement), but this is lovely.

As a mother cradles her child, so you enfold us, gently in your arms. As a mother comforts their pain, you calm and quieten our souls with your love.

As a mother teaches her child, so, Lord, you guide us, leading us through life. As a mother listens and cares, O Lord, you hear us and answer our prayers.

As a mother cries for her child, so you are weeping over our sins. As a mother feeds us from our birth, you daily nourish us with the bread of life.

Jesus as a mother, you gather us all to you. In your compassion bring forgiveness and grace. In you tenderness restore and remake us, In your love, bring us joy, give us peace.

Song based on a text by St Anselm; music by David Ogden.

Rob notes that he is not the originator of this quote. A friend of his from London, John Woodhouse, shared it with him after his church sang it at Mass today. Come to think of it, John's is a blog I used to read regularly and hadn't visited in a while. Hello, Organist Librarian! And thank you.

Mary Hunt on the recent Brazilian abuse/ pregnancy/abortion/excommunication case

My friend and colleague Mary E. Hunt has an essay at ReligionDispatches.org again. This time it's about the recent and tragic case in Brazil. The mother of a nine year old girl who was pregnant with twins (a pregnancy which would have killed her) was excommunicated for helping her have an abortion. The doctors were excommunicated too. The girl's stepfather has admitted to sexually abusing her.

Dr. Hunt, a Roman Catholic feminist theologian, writes:

........ My sadness in this case comes not only from what has been done in the name of God to people who are living a nightmare, but from what might have been done to help. Sexual abuse, especially incest, is hard to stop. But once perpetrated it need not be made worse by ecclesial sanction.

A proper pastoral response would include: support for the pregnant child as she lives through an abortion; care for the mother who is responsible for the child and the rest of the family; protection for the family from the stepfather whose arrest may trigger backlash behavior; sensitive work with the other daughter who has also been sexually abused; HIV and venereal disease testing for the girls and the mother; economic support for the family; counseling for the family, the community, even the neighbors and parishioners who have been affected by this trauma; prayer and pastoral attention, including reception of the sacraments according to the family’s wishes. They need a spiritual community more than ever. Instead they got excommunication. “Is there anyone among you, who if your child asks for bread, will give a stone?” (Matthew 7:9). Apparently there are several in Rome and Brazil.

..... They claim to know the law of God. But here’s the rub: even if they do, an overwhelming number of Catholics and others of goodwill do not care. We do not believe in the cruel, vindictive, callous God they cite. Many believers put our faith in a loving, merciful divinity whose response to human tragedy is to weep not condemn, to embrace not exile. That is a Catholic view, well-supported by scripture and life experience. The bishops are welcome to their views, but beware of people who think they know more about God’s will and God’s law than the rest of us. They are selling a product we are not buying.

.............Let this case signal the end of any credible claim to authority such bishops might make, and the beginning of a new era when local communities determine their own members.

Read the full text of Mary Hunt's commentary here.

The essay is titled "Excommunicating the Victims."

More on inclusive language and public prayer

Re: the post below and its many comments (read it and them first), it turns out I had posted a little piece of the Jaci Maraschin essay a little over a year ago.

You can read that post here.

For another Brazilian perspective, from Silvia Regina de Lima Silva, posted around the same time, see here. (Tracie, this may speak to you, though Silvia doesn't use "Goddess." But she is a radical woman after your own heart, and full of passion and fire.) It is important to listen to this voice from a Black woman of the Southern Hemisphere.

For the struggle to come to words we barely know are within us, especially if we are women, see here. (Nelle Morton's classic essay on "Hearing to Speech.")

One among many examples of the beautiful Anglican, inclusive prayers by Janet Morley of England.

I've got a chapter on language in When in Doubt, Sing: Prayer in Daily Life, as I mentioned in the Comments section of the post below. Thought I had posted part of it once to this blog, but perhaps not. It's not showing up in two searches I just did in the archives. I'll look again later. Some of you have the book, anyway. (The rest of you should buy it ;-) - just sayin'. And thank you.)

Lots more on language, prayer, and gender in the church in the archives of Acts of Hope.

For instance, Julian of Norwich (14th century) on the Trinity. Today some of us would find the language less than satisfying but in the context of the 14th century, it's marvelous. So, as many pointed out when our Presiding Bishop began to use mothering language for Jesus and some got their knickers in a knot about it, this is not exactly a newfangled idea. Even earlier in Christian history, there were maternal images for Godde. There are also such images in the Hebrew Bible, though the patriarchal images dominate.

I thank you all for your courtesy and honesty in this conversation. Let it continue, and do share resources with us.

Some notes on intercessory prayer, part I (keeping you guessing)

I gave a presentation to the Society of the Companions of the Holy Cross in Hillsborough, NC this afternoon. The topic was intercessory prayer, which is one of the ministries of the Companions. They also have a strong concern for social justice.

More information on the Companions here.

Christian Socialist Vida Dutton Scudder (1861-1954), an Anglo-Catholic, was a member. There is a link to information on her at the bottom of the page to which I linked above. That's a picture of the young Vida above, from Smith College, 1884.

I brought a handout so people would have something on which to scribble. It had only a set of words which I had used as anchors for my talk and for our conversation. All of these words point to anchors for or entryways into intercessory prayer. Have fun guessing, and I will post a Part II at some point in the next few days to fill in the blanks for you.

Here's the handout:

Suggestions and Opportunities for the Practice of Intercessory Prayer

1. Faces

2. Hands

3. Hearts

4. Circles

5. Maps

6. Photos

7. News

Two days ago, women; today, labor unions, the middle class, and the poor

U.S. President Barack Obama shakes hands after signing an executive order at the Middle Class Working Families Task Force event in the East Room of the White House in Washington, January 30, 2009. Photo: Larry Downing, Reuters.

It really is a new presidential era. Today President Obama signed executive orders that, in his words, "level the playing field" and do not view unions as an evil force in U.S. society. He also spoke of the poor and not just the middle class; as you may recall the poor were largely invisible in election campaign rhetoric.

For this, for the President's action yesterday signing the Lily Ledbetter Fair Pay Act into law, and for yesterday's denouncing of huge bonuses to Wall Street executives, many of us are thankful. And, make no mistake, many will be angry. I don't mean to go all Manichean on you, but the opposition to this is not going to be pretty.

So, I rejoice, and I pray.

And I pray that those of us who, moved by our faith, our humanism, our experience, or our principles, support the rights of workers to organize, the dignity of the most poor, the equality of women and men, and fairness in finance, will be active as citizens.

Below, because we like him, Vice-President Joe Biden. He will head White House Task Force on Middle Class Working Families . Photo: Ron Edmonds, AP.

January 24: Li Tim Oi

On this day, January 24, we commemorate Li Tim Oi, first woman ordained priest in the Anglican Communion. She was ordained on this day in 1944.

The Episcopal Women's Caucus has an informative essay about her here.

Grandmère Mimi of Wounded Bird has written about her here.

I honor also one of Li Tim Oi's spiritual descendants, who is very much alive, my friend the Rev. Dorothy Lau, Director of the Hong Kong Sheng Kung Hui Welfare Council. Here's an article Dorothy wrote about five years ago for the online arm of the late lamented magazine The Witness.