commission journal

9pm. February 28
I struggle a bit with what to write here. I am not sure how in depth to go. I feel weary and stretched and confused and very alone, although I have met wonderful people and feel part of this community.

Let me start at the beginning.

I am a delegate at the 53rd commission on the status of women, held by and put on by the United Nations in New York. I am here as a representative of the world student Christian federation, which is encompassed in the UN-recognized organization “ecumenical women.”

I am the North American rep. I have learned that our position as WSCF-ers here is unique; most of the young women here are only here for a few days or a week, or are just here on exposure tours. Our group is here to be advocates, and to fully participate as delegates in this commission.

The major part of these two weeks is a government document which will (most likely) be signed onto by a number of countries around the world. So there are government meetings, government meetings which we are allowed to sit in on, educational meetings such as side panels, and a number (and I do mean a number . . . like in the hundreds) of side events and such that people who do not have direct access to the UN can participate in. The point of all of these activities is to contribute to this document – this document will focus on policies and procedures which involves equality of women, especially in the context of caregiving, and then especially in the context of caregiving in cases of HIV/AIDS.

I hope that is enough background. So here is my experience.

My team is fantastic. Extraordinary women with extraordinary backgrounds. They are all lovely, and I am excited to get to know each of them better. I’ve also met some wonderful other young women, as well as established women who I’ve been able to make some meaningful connections with. This means the world to me.

Today we began our first day of training – info on what the CSW actually is and does, our role in it, and some strategic planning as to how we can use this time most effectively.

Part of our training, and our work here, is gathering for morning worship. We consider it an integral part of what we are doing. As the commission continues, morning worship will sometimes be the only days that we are able to be in the same place with others from Ecumenical Women.

Worship was incredible and very moving. I find it difficult to put the experience into words. The liturgy was powerful. To commune with these women was humbling and wonderful. And the most moving part, which people have been speaking about all day, was the story that was told through dance, music, and spoken word – the story of Ruth and Naomi.
The story of Ruth & Naomi was told in a very honest, straightforward way. And it came alive – in ways I’ve never thought about or experienced. What was really brought out was the economic and social realities of these women, and what was going on. Without husbands, these women were so vulnerable – no laws protected them from starvation, mistreatment, or death. Naomi was bitter at God for her situation. The reader articulated that Naomi was not hurt by the laws of God, but instead by the laws of the land - the laws of man.

There is lots that I can comment on this theologically, but I will try to keep this brief and focus on my experience.

Worship was powerful, and the telling of this story has framed this day in more ways than one.

Most of the rest of the day was spent in sessions – workshops, panels, all around the issue of caregiving. We heard powerful, firsthand testimonies from women all around the world about how they have experienced this in their context. What was most difficult for me to hear was how the church perpetuated the problem in many of these instances.

As I was sitting in these workshops, I was moved and stirred by many different things. First, the plight of women, in ours and other cultures, and the difficulties that we and they face when trying to live life. But I was also stirred in other, deeper ways. I guess I had expected to be here, in an ecumenical context, with people interested and engaged in issues of gender justice, who had a shared general understanding and awareness of some of the issues I and SCM Canada have been working on.

What I have learned was this:
1) gender justice and justice for women are not the same thing
2) issues of sexuality, which I see as being key to gender justice issues, are again and still being largely ignored by the church
3) and another realization, a bit sad for me personally, is that I seem to be the only self-identified evangelical in the room (at least, so far)

I can’t express to you how shocked, deflated, and disappointed I am in these realities. I sit in these meetings and I hear “gender inclusive” language which is not at all inclusive, and which fails to include people whom I love and whom inspire me to be closer to Christ. I hear no mention of sexuality or the church’s response to oppression based on sexuality, which is shocking to me especially because of the HIV/AIDS connection to this commission, and the pain that the church has caused in this area. And finally (which is admittedly less of a global deal) I am sad that the issues I am faced with within my church I need to keep walking somewhat alone because “my people” don’t seem to either want to attend or be invited to events like this.

So it was a day of very mixed emotions, of high hopes and of shattered expectations. And it is all very wearying.

And I can’t seem to find my place or my voice at this conference, and I can’t see a way where I can effectively and safely put the issues I care about on the table, and I don’t know how I fit or why I belong here. Or if I do.

And I had a mild melt-down in a small group workshop today. We were in small groups and I was frustrated, and we were asked why we were all here. Some said they worked within the church, some said that they cared about women’s rights. And I said that I was here because of pain, mine and others whom I have walked beside, because of issues of gender justice. And when asked a question about how males and females could work together in my organization I cried and objected and challenged, in a blubbering sort of way, why the language of that question was not truly gender inclusive and that the question itself, though well intentioned, caused more pain for people. And we were comparing gender justice in the church and people were saying things like women priests get paid less than male priests and have less opportunities. And I cried more and thought about the guilt I feel being a woman who is called to be a pastor or priest or some sort of ordained minister, and how so many years of being taught that this desire was wrong has resulted in an emotional complex and a haunting feeling of going against God’s will. How can I say that the struggles of these women around the table gave me hope, that one day evangelicalism would have these problems? That women be allowed and encouraged to be ordained ministers in the small towns of Southern Manitoba? And the struggles I feel being a woman in my church, and in my Christian upbringing, and the shame and tension about I feel about my place in ministry. And I tried to articulate this, and I think I did so badly. But some kind ladies gave me encouraging words.

So I sit here, at this hostel. 2 weeks to go on this program and I feel drained and somewhat useless and mostly confused. I don’t know where my place is, and I don’t know where my voice will be heard, and I don’t know how much I can push for myself and for the people that I love to be respected here, and nurtured here, without causing some sense of danger or harm upon myself and others. I feel a coward. And that kills me. And I feel alone here, in this community of people who really care about me. And I don’t know who I can tell my story to who would understand me today, or who is available to talk, or who is even in my time zone.

It is 10 o clock and time for bed. Thanks for reading.
Bre

UN. dude.

Hey everyone!

So I am off to NY, flying out in almost exactly 12 hours (weather permitting - I am starting to get a little worried . . . )

This is what I am doing: http://ecumenicalwomen.org/csw-2009/about-csw/

I am the North American delegate for the World Student Christian Federation, part of the World Council of Churches, part of the "Ecumenical Women" delegation as outlined in the link above.

Basically . . . participating in the United Nations' 53rd Commission on the Status of Women!

I am excited, but nervous. I'll try to post more about my experiences when I have internet access!

Blessings to you all,
Bre

Musings. Perhaps unhelpful ones?

So I am sitting here, at Starbucks in Winnipeg, writing this on the back of a bus schedule. It is early morning. I am struck by the fact that this place is full, but everyone here looks the same. There is a line-up of middle upper-class, middle aged men, with the same haircut and eyeglasses, the same iPhones and leather jackets. I stick out with my green (grey? I am color blind) pants, slightly frayed at the bottom.
It occurs to me that, like in so many other areas of my life, I really don’t belong here. I mean, really. And I wonder again what the deal is. Am I really this weird? That I don’t feel at home in my family, my church, my workplace. Is this a normal phenomenon? Or is it just me?
I sip my coffee. Overpriced. Fair trade in that Starbucks sort of way.
I think of where I have fit in in the past. My residence experiences at Providence were truly meaningful. I really knew that I belonged there. Most recently, I feel most at home with my friends and colleagues from the Student Christian Movement and the World Student Christian Federation. I was at our San Francisco conference a few weeks ago and I remember being so sad to leave. The second I got there I felt like I truly belonged. Like these people understand who I am and what I am trying to do in life. It seems that at home in Winnipeg I am spending so much time explaining my justice work, and even defending it to people who think it their business to crush my dreams and take away the most significant, meaningful experiences I have had.
My heart hurt to leave San Francisco, and the people there. This was even more tangible, as I had to leave a day before everyone else (my only comfort being found in the Denver airport bathroom – there are dinosaurs engraved in the floor. Fantastic).
It is good to feel like I belong. It feeds my soul, and I live for the times where I get to be with SCM-ers, doing the work that we do in that super quirky way that we do it. The next gathering is May. I can’t wait.
So what does this mean? Do I even belong in Winnipeg? Or is this a normal feeling?

update

Hey everyone!

Life is good, fast, and I'm freaking out.

There has been so much good stuff going on. So much exciting justice work, good community experiences. Loving and working for Jesus and all that.

Just got back from San Francisco which is the cleanest, prettiest, most dangerous feeling city I've visited. What did we do in San Fran? We re-started North America, SCM-style. Boo-Yeah. And saw so many good people . . .

Last week was our Social Justice Fair, which was bigger and better than ever. This year we brought in a guest speaker, a woman who was exiled from Iraq becuase of her political poetry. It was a great event, and then our Social Justice fair the day after had a record 275 attending students!

I am freaking out about my very difficult UofM class - Masculinities - it is an upper level class and I am struggling with the content because I don't have as much background in Women's Studies as the other students do. But it is good and challenging. I am struggling to get all of my research papers done before i . . .

head to New York! I am the North American representative of the World Student Christian Federation to the UN's Commission on the Status of Women. This is a big deal - it is a 2 week program! I am determined to change the world.

I think in late March I will actually be able to breathe . . .

So that's what's going on. Justice, Jesus, and . . . really soul-feeding stuff.

I'm excited. And pumped. And LOOOOOVVVVVEEEE it.
bre

O God, to those who have hunger give bread; and to us who have bread give the hunger for justice.

- A Latin American prayer

San Fran and Knitting

I think we're getting better . . . maybe.

I am off to San Francisco! WOO!

*******************************************
Our third podcast, this special New Year show features SCM’s international representative to the World Student Christian Federation, Alice Glaze - ‘Knitting With Your ExCo’ - and music by Michael Franti, The Cobalt Season and Emily Carr. Hosted by Bre and David Ball.

Click here to listen

thanks, y'all. you humble me. i'll change settings when i have time. here's a quote for this week!

Prayer and meditation have an important part to play in opening up new ways and new horizons. If your prayer is the expression of a deep and grace-inspired desire for newness of life—and not the mere blind attachment to what has always been familiar and "safe"—God will act in us and through us to renew the Church by preparing, in prayer, what we cannot yet imagine or understand. In this way our prayer and faith today will be oriented toward the future which we ourselves may never see fully realized on earth.
- Thomas Merton

READ ME

hey everyone,

i feel the need to temporarily limit my blog to select individuals for a bit - google searches bring it up on my name and for the next few months i would like to protect myself in that way.

i will change the settings to allow only select individuals access to it starting January 20th, 2009. If you consider yourself to be a friend of mine you are very much welcome to read it. If you want to receive an official blogger invite to be able to access it, please get in contact with me via facebook, email, or comments below.
thanks muchly for reading,
bre

Privilege

Anatole France: "The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to beg in the streets, steal bread, or sleep under the bridge."

Yes, go ahead, reveal me, measure me,
but please, it matters that you take me
every little layer of me and
lay me down into a basket of hope,
fling me into the wind
lift me into the company of birds and light
where a hand on the night’s warmth of his back,
a clear sharp word
undo me.

- Bonnie Loewen, excerpt from “A Pattern Sermon” Geez Summer 2008

Demons of Hope - ATN Fall 2008

The new issue of All Things New is out!

You can access it here.

I highly recommend the article "Demons of Hope" on page 12. Should win a pulitzer, or something. Plus, the author is really hot.

Bre

Stars and old dudes.

So every Christmas it seems to happen that I really connect with one part of the Christmas story. Last year it was Mary – her faithfulness, her willingness, the bizarreness of the entire situation for her. I felt her story was one which I have often overlooked.

This year, I am struck by the story of the Magi.

I am struck that God orchestrated this amazing celestial event to mark the coming of Jesus. This makes me consider the wonder and meaning of the stars up above. And I am struck by these men – non-Jewish men who saw this star and did not ignore it, but pursued it to a faraway place with extravagant gifts for the Jewish Messiah. The faithfulness and dedication of these individuals is not only admirable but inspiring.

This picture gives me great hope and joy for my own journey. I want so badly to follow that star that I see, even though it sometimes takes me to places which are really scary and unfamiliar. I want my life to reflect the faithfulness of the Magi – to follow God’s leading at all costs and to wherever I am lead. I want my heart to be open to new ideas which may seem crazy at foreign but are filled with Jesus.

I see that star today, and it is so bright and it is so clear. And it is so beautiful. And I intend to continue following it with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Merry Christmas, yo.
Bre

Merry Christmas. This is awesome.

A short video from Reverand Billy's Stop Shopping Choir.

John Maynard Keynes: "Capitalism is the extraordinary belief that the nastiest of men, for the nastiest of reasons, will somehow work for the benefit of us all."

ParticiPaction a la Hal Johnson

I received this Newsweek article from a friend, and thought it really thoughtful and well-written. There's lots I could say about it, but am more interested in your thoughts and reactions . . .

Gay Marriage: Our Mutual Joy

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Religious silence is silence that is undertaken as an act of worship. Whether I hear God or not makes no difference.
- Thomas Merton


Merton’s a pretty wise dude.

For the last few years, thanks largely to my Anglican friends as well as my Pastor, I have been offered many opportunities to engage God through more traditional forms of worship. These include fasting, lectio divina, meditation, liturgy, and many different forms that I was never exposed to in my evangelical upbringing.

I have found much meaning in these times of worship, and credit much of my spiritual development to thoughtfully engaging in and pursuing more traditional types of sacred ritual. I have been able to experience God in new and real ways, and for that I am thankful. And during those times where God is silent – when I seem to be unable to encounter Her – these rituals allow me to remember that much of that meaning lies in the act of worship – in my choice to offer God that moment and that sacrifice. Whether I feel Christ’s presence in that moment is not necessarily the point. Christ and I are connected regardless of my feelings.

In Christ Alone

Hey all,

We played this at church this week, and as we played I found the words striking. A good song of hope, and of our life in Christ.
Perhaps it will affect you as it affected me . . .
Blessings


In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied;
For ev'ry sin on Him was laid—
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain;
Then bursting forth in glorious day,
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory,
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me;
For I am His and He is mine—
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home—
Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand.
*Getty & Townend

monster lament

What has cancer taught me? That I am an ordinary man. It has liberated me from any illusion that I am chosen, or elect - that the faith I have embraced since a child has inured me from suffering; that I am deserving of special treatment. So, I come to the church and offer my sacrifice of woe. I run towards God to shelter under the shadow of the Creator's wing. I seek refuge there and wait until this calamity passes . . .
We enter into community because suffering makes us dependent upon one another. And it is there that we learn to forgive each other. In community our sockness, sins, failings and petty squabbling stand out in high relief. The monster from within is exposed. There is no such thing as faith in isolation. Together, the halt and the unlovely stumble toward the dawning of a new day, a day of healing and redemption.
- Greg Randall, "Monster Lament," Geez Fall 2007

Worth the Read

I'm not one of those "Love Thy Neighbor" Christians
Click me.