Simpleigh

Last week, my middle school bible study class  discussed "misunderstandings," specifically, how Jesus was misunderstood by his own people. You see the Jewish people had lived under military occupation for centuries - first by the Babylonians (in exile), then the Persians, then the Greeks, and finally the Romans. As a result, the desire for liberation permeated every aspect of life, including religious beliefs. After all, what did God think of this whole situation? How was the Divine going to set things right?  The answer to these questions came in the form of a Messiah, a divinely appointed savior who would conquer Israel's enemies and rule over the world for eternity. Like the empires of this world, the messiah was expected to rule through violence and intimidation. You can imagine, then, what people must have been thinking when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, was later arrested, mocked and finally, crucified by the very empire they wished to o...

Two weeks ago my husband and I got a puppy. She is everything you could want in a puppy. She is cute and soft and gloriously uncoordinated. We’ve wanted a dog for a long time now, so I can’t tell you how many hours we have spent watching funny pet videos on YouTube and brainstorming possible names.  A few days before we picked her up we decided on the name “Luna.” We thought it was unique, but not like off the wall celebrity baby name unique. Luna sounded like the name of a Norwegian goddess — fierce, beautiful, and able to take down a reindeer if need be. Luna felt like the perfect name. The only problem was that when we met her, it became clear that she was definitely not a Luna. I can’t tell you why exactly, except that she just didn’t look like one. She is more sweet than fierce. And she is entirely too chill to take on a full-grown reindeer. So we went back through our list and decided to name her Penny Lane — and yes, that song has been stuck in my head ever sinc...

Thy Kingdom Come, but how?

Prayer Come Creator God, to fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love. By the light of your holy spirit instruct us and guide us in your wisdom, so that we may be about the work of justice, of peace, and of love. Amen. As far as church internships go, I’ve had a pretty unique one. For those of you who don’t know me, or don’t know me well, for the past two years I have had the immense pleasure of serving as the intern of an emerging church in Vienna, Virginia called Church of the Common Table. Our little community of about 30 regulars gathers at least once a week to worship in a coffee shop and music venue called Jammin Java. And contrary to what you might be picturing, the church does not primarily consist of V-neck wearing-twenty-something hipsters. In fact, most of Common Table is over 30, married with children, and decidedly against revealing chest hair. We are a congregation of teachers, writers, bureaucrats, gamers, Episcopalians, Agnostics, ...

Thanks to our news media discussions about "mental illness" often conjure images of mass shootings, celebrity suicides, or controversial court cases.  Hollywood, on the other hand, tends to romanticize mental illness, more or less suggesting that all one needs to overcome a debilitating mood disorder is a quirky girl that really "gets you."  While I don't think I'm quirky enough to replace someones medication, I do happen to be in love with a wonderful man diagnosed with a mental illness.  And it's hard.  It's hard enduring ignorant comments from our friends.  It's hard negotiating who will receive this information with kindness and who will judge.  It's hard watching him swallow pill after pill and go to sleep nauseous.  But harder than all of that is knowing there are some days when there is no way to convince him that he is loved.  Today (October 7th)  is the National Day of Prayer for Mental Il...

Friends, I don't want to frighten you, but there is a dangerous epidemic currently targeting the millennial generation — I know what you're thinking but it's not ironic facial hair. No, there is another name for this anomaly. Some have dubbed it "wedding fever." Over the past few months I have come to affectionately refer to it as "open bar season." Call it what you will, but for me it has meant having to attend an extra-ordinary amount of weddings this year. In just under eight months I have attended five weddings —  all in different states and one on a different continent. Just a year ago I hadn't been to more than two weddings in my entire life. Now I'm supporting half the wedding industry. What's the deal people? Did Tiffany & Co. contaminate our drinking water?  I don't mean to be snarky, but watching all these couples take "the big step" has been more than a little overwhelming; because the thing about weddings ...

  In the Lenten spirit of self-reflection and repentance I confess to you that I hate blogging. No, I really hate blogging. I hate it for a number of reasons. First, I don’t think I am very good at it. I’m not an especially skillful or articulate writer. I tend to ramble on and only sometimes get to the point. Second, I don’t have the same desire to be heard that most bloggers seem to posses. Lastly, I am a journaler, which means that most of what I write is deeply personal and excessively flowery. Writing for a public audience puts me in the awkward position of walking the thin line between the private and personal, which frankly are subjective categories anyway. I see the irony of confessing all of this to you in a blog post. However, I've done so because I’ve decided to take up blogging during the season of Lent. As many of you know, Lent is a liturgical season in the Christian year where believers prepare themselves for Holy Week, the week that recalls Jesus’ dea...