An actual Onion spoof.

Language NSFW.

(Two big assumptions embedded in that statement. 1) That anyone I know works. 2) That anyone is reading this thing anyway.)

Some thoughts on chickens.

March 11's NYTimes dedicates just under 1000 words to the 'Femivore's Dilemma'.

Apparently, upwardly mobile women in the center of the liberal world (Berkley, CA) are embracing chickens to go along with their organic gardens, canned peaches, and homemade dresses. The author discusses this nascent phenomenon at the intersection of feminism and the locavore movement without so much as a passing reference to the rural women who do this every day.

But seriously. Chickens? Feminism? Sounds like an Onion spoof to me.

Everyone I know has chickens (unless expressly prohibited by the CCR's in their rural subdivisions). On a friend's street, population 9 houses, chickens seem to be ubiquitous. Flint Drive eggs are de rigueur, I rarely make anything without them. I guess you could say that this is rural American meets neo-yuppie. A place where you dig out your driveway, haul your own rocks, split your own wood, visit the dump, and still go to the symphony in the summer.

Glad to see that the reverse of this set of lifestyle choices is making into an urban setting. But when you talk about feminism, don't forget about the men and women in rural America who aren't making the same ridiculous gender distinctions that you city-dwellers are. Out here, it's every woman for herself.

I have been fretting

I have been fretting over Jesus' words.

I thought that the New Testament was about the love of God (e.g., For God so loved the world, Jn 3:16) and social justice (for more, see The Beatitudes, Mt 5) and peace. For weeks, I have been wondering what to do with this passage: I came not to bring peace, but a sword (Mt 10:34).

What am I to do with that?

Many thanks to the late Reverend William Sloane Coffin for his sermon, February 16, 1992, for shedding some light on one way to view it.

One more final thing, it is our pride-swollen faces that have closed up our eyes here at home to an almost unimaginable neglect of the poor, the bloat of the military, the size of the deficit, the sorrow of the aged and infirm among us. There are lots of implications to this and I find this tough text, "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace on earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword," is a wonderfully honest statement about the need for the sword of truth, Christ's sword of truth, that heals the wounds it inflicts.

For the full sermon and an interview, click here.

Economic injustice

In my wanderings around the interwebs in pursuit of procrastination from both winter exercise and divinity school writing, I happened upon this: Study finds median wealth for single black women at $5.

Yes. You read that right. $5.

The view from here.

Sometimes, words about wine shed light on real life.

“These wines are quite elusive — you grasp and lose, grasp and lose,” he said, adding — ever the Frenchman — “They are like women.”

Vintages are often judged too simply, in Burgundy and everywhere. The focus is on greatness; everything else tends to be dismissed.

From The Pour: The 2007 Burgundies Pose A Puzzle for the Experts, by Eric Asmiov

Tomorrow's Read.

Tomorrow, in case you haven't already heard, you ought to check out James Martin, Jesuit priest, and his new book The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything: A Spirituality for Real Life. You can hear the interview tomorrow morning and find the audio on NPR.org tomorrow afternoon.

Martin's book looks to be an accessible antidote to the existential dread that a highly consumer-driven and fearful society is bound to face. Realizing that at least some of our fears may be traced to a longing for the divine--or the longing of the divine for us--might help us learn how to settle into lives where we have less and feel more.

Worth a look, at the very least.