New Teeth and Crawling--What a month

I realized that Adelaide will be 8 months old in a week. Yesterday, she switched from her robo-crawl to the traditional baby crawl. So, she has started to crawl one week later than Elias in the scheme of things. She also has one tooth that has popped through and another on the way. Two days ago, I discovered that she loves mac n cheese as she grabbed the bowl that Elias was eating and just started to stuff things down. I let her try cheeze pizza last night and the crust felt really good on her gums. It seems we have another Italian child.

Talk to the Hand

Over a month ago, Elias had a traumatic cut on his hand. He had grabbed an open can on top of the counter and cut his finger. There was lots of blood. We eventually calmed him down. However, from that day on he would NOT open his hand. He kept his three fingers shut. If you threw a ball to him he would try and catch it with his thumb and forefinger. He drank a sippy cup by doing the same. After a while, it became quite unnerving because we were afraid that he would lose range of motion and feeling in that hand. The doctor wanted us to come in so she could verify that he had not cut down to the ligament. When we got there he refused to open his hand for her. So, we had to call in the reinforcements and get somebody to hold him while she opened his hand and then snuck on a splint. Elias wore a splint for about 5 days to keep the hand opened and outstretched. Then I took it off so that he would start using his hand normally again. It took almost a week, but he is now singing "Open shut them" and actually doing the correlating motions with his fingers; there seems to be no permanent damage. It's amazing what the mind can train the body to do!

Just in case you thought the Episcopal Church was too liberal

This morning I awoke at 5am to drive to Baraboo, Wisconsin to celebrate and preach at their 7:30 and 10am services. The drive was gorgeous. There are farms lining the route the whole way up to Baraboo. There is also a John Deere distributor which always makes me think of Elias. You pass Devil's Lake on the way up to this quaint and quintessential Wisconsin town.

I arrived in plenty of time to get ready for the service and was welcomed and shown around by the Senior Warden. He had intimated over the phone that this parish really needed to see a woman at the altar and in the pulpit. When I arrived I innocently inquired how many women had ever presided there and he said that I would be the second one. Little did I know the fun that would ensue.

At the 7:30 service there was a small collection of people. I noticed a priest in the pews who looked to be about 70. When I got up to preach I could feel the energy of the place. Some people were closely paying attention and some people would not even look at me. It was as if I had come forward to read my grocery list and they were unconcerned. I quickly noticed that the priest and his extended family would not make eye contact with me. When I passed the peace this particular family looked quite uncomfortable as I extended a cheerful hand. Finally I realized what was going on. After I consecrated the bread and wine and started the process of distribution, I realized that they were not coming forward. Part of me flinched inside as I realized that they did not believe I was a priest. Then all those doubts started to sink in. You see, I had made one small mistake with the Proper Preface before communion and I began to think they were saying to themselves "See a woman can't do this right!" I'm really not sure what they were thinking because they didn't even have the courage to greet me at the holy handshake. They snuck out a side door.

The morning continued to be interesting as one woman at Bible study said that the Democratic nominee was the anti-Christ. I'm assuming she meant Obama, but she didn't clarify that point. Finally, at the 10 am service I expected a more relaxed crowd--and they were. We sang music that was very church campy and of a "praise band" genre. However, there were three people who refused communion from me at that service. I calculated the numbers and realized 10% of the congregation hadn't caught on to the fact that the Episcopal Church has spoken on this issue--and did so 32 years ago.

I am finding it ironic that my sermon referred to the Holy Spirit as she. I did not do this to upset or alarm anyone or to make s strident, feminist, lesbian, hairy-legged point. I do this because the word for Holy Spirit in Greek is feminine. So, I and many other Biblical scholars refer to the third person of the Trinity as She. And, and so more reasons to love me in Baraboo! Below is my feminsit agenda, oterhwise known as a sermon on Trinity Sunday, if anyone is interested.


It seems I have this penchant for accepting invitations to preach before I do the careful work of checking the lectionary.
Your senior warden called me and asked me to preach and preside on May 18th.
I quickly checked our kitchen calendar and saw that I was free and blithely responded, “Yes, that sounds great.”
Later that night, I went upstairs to write it down on my own liturgical calendar and saw the words “Trinity Sunday” emblazoned on the datebook.
Gotcha. Trinity Sunday. Oh, No!
This is a Sunday that is often handed over to seminarians, associates, assistants, deacons, and yes, even supply priests.

I would like you to know that this is actually the second time I unknowingly accepted an invitation to preach on Trinity Sunday.
The last time was in an entirely different context and culture.
It was almost 10 years ago now and I was serving as a mission partner for the Anglican Church of Tanzania.
This meant that I was responsible for coordinating youth programs for the diocese in which I served.
This diocese was nestled between Lake Victoria to the East and Rwanda and Burundi to the West.
I was there right after the 1994 Civil War in Rwanda and was working with people who were directly impacted by the overwhelming presence of Rwandan refugees in their midst.

As youth coordinator, I did a lot of visitations every Sunday.
It helped to visit individual congregations in order to get to know their clergy and their youth leaders.
At all of these visits, I was always invited to preach, but I always said no.
After all, I was 24, had not yet been trained theologically, and I was intimidated about writing, let alone speaking, a sermon in Swahili.
But, I usually agreed to the standard litany of greetings, which is an integral part of East African culture.
Greetings from my homeland to theirs and sharing of the good news of the Gospel.

One day, however, there was a pastor who I had come to know fairly well and he invited me to his parish for the second time.
This time he wouldn’t say no to me preaching.
So, I finally caved in and started to think about the possibility of standing in the mud walled church with its thatched roof and delivering a sermon from a simple wooden podium.
I grabbed my Tanzanian Book of Common Prayer, Kitabu Cha Watu Wote, and saw that the day I agreed to preach was Trinity Sunday.
Boy, was I stunned and then scared.
The good news was that I had a full month to prepare.

I realized that preaching on Trinity Sunday had to take into account both the head and heart of the doctrine of the Trinity.
You see, there was no way I was going to be able to expound in Swahili on any complex doctrines of the Trinity.
Nor was I theologically astute enough to do so then. (I’ll leave it to you to decide if I’m able to do so even now…)
But, I did know that I needed to call on the gift of the Holy Spirit to help me find a way to communicate the life of the Trinity to my Tanzanian friends—many of whom did not have more than a primary school education.

One of the most salient features of the church in Tanzania is that it is comprised of women and children.
Sure, the clergy are men and there are a few husbands and single men who attend church. But, for the most part, this is a church made up of women and children.
And this is so obvious to the eye because the church follows an ancient Jewish practice of having women on one side of the nave and men on the other side.

So, my homily focused on something that women really understand in their culture. Cooking. Women cook every night by fire on three stones.
The pots sit between these three stones and the firewood is collected and gathered by the women to kindle the fire.
Cooking is a big job when firewood needs to be collected, rice needs to be cleaned, peanuts need to be shelled, and water needs to be fetched.
There are no microwaves. People often eat around 8 or 9 at night.

So, I attached an aluminum pot to the back of my bike and I knew I could find three big cooking stones at the church.
The pastor helped me bring them inside and we placed them on the dirt floor right beneath my wooden lectern.
I poured water into my pot.
I named each stone a part of the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
I then placed my pot on those stones and then took one stone away.
Of course, if you take away the Father, the pot falls and water spills onto the dusty floor. The same thing happens if you take away the Son, or the Spirit.
But, if you leave all three stones intact the pot settles nicely between all three, the water stays in the pot, and if we had lit a fire the food would have cooked.

I think you know where I was going with this illustration.
We know that the Trinity is three persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, but it is also one in three.
I see that each stone represents one aspect of the life of God, but the cooking can’t happen without the work of all three stones.
Without the unified three.
In some ways, the fire that burns reminds me of the Spirit moving and doing Her work to keep all three persons connected to each other.

When I think about the Trinity I think it’s important to say we can talk about the theology of the Trinity without being overly dogmatic, obscure, or erudite.
After all, if we just dismiss discussions about the Trinity because we think it is too complex, we miss the chance to do theology.
And there are lots and lots of people who write about God and write books about God and yet none of us can explain God.
And so, likewise with the Trinity, we can explore with our heads how our hearts are informed.

One thing that is important to note is that the doctrine that is the teaching of the Trinity is biblically based, but never explicitly explained or taught in the Bible.
So, it is something that is shaped and formed as the church develops.
In today’s passage from Corinthians we hear Paul leave a final benediction to the people of Corinth.
He says, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with all of you.”
This bidding is one of the most explicit references we have to the Trinity.
The other explicit reference to the Trinity is in Matthew’s gospel, which we also proclaim today; “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit…”

I draw our attention to these two passages because they draw us to the work of God’s self.
God’s self is life in three persons and life that is always living, moving, breathing, and going out.
There is a fancy theological word for this, which is called perichoresis.
In other words, the inner life of the Divine.
Many people identify God as the Creator, Jesus as the Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit as the Sanctifier.
These are helpful ways of looking at roles of each person of the Trinity.
However, I think we can focus on the unity of God as one by saying that God shows us who God is through the witness of history and the Scriptures.
In other words, the Trinity is revealed by God to us and is an experience of God, which we have named.

You see, the Father is revealed in Christ through the gift of the Spirit.
We see this over and over in the whole Bible.
In the Hebrew Scriptures we see God through Wisdom and in creating and fashioning the world.
In the New Testament, we see the Son as a truly incarnate person being sent by the Father and in deep relationship with, and to, the Father.
Remember Jesus in the Garden?
“Father, please take this cup from me but not my will but your will be done?
Remember Jesus teaching the disciples how to pray?
Remember he addresses his Father—the one who has taught him how to be in relationship with the Most High.
And the Spirit—she moves over creation, brooding and bringing it to life.
She is there at the Cross—into your hands I commend my Spirit.
She is there on Pentecost leaving gifts for God’s Holy People when Jesus can no longer be physically present.
She has already been made known in the Messiah and will be the agent of a new creation when the old one has passed away.
Over and over again, we see the work of all three persons of God.

So, truly it is our experience of God that brings us to a doctrine—to a teaching.
We experience God in unique ways.
I know a person who always prays to God the Father.
This is how he is in relationship with God.
He likes the Lord’s Prayer because he believes that everything you need to know and to ask for is in that short prayer.

I am reminded, however, that it was Jesus who taught his disciples to pray that prayer. Now as Episcopalians many of us are much more comfortable talking about “God” than we are about “Jesus.”
It seems to be a weight on the tongue to talk about my relationship with Jesus, but to talk about my relationship with God seems natural.
However, Jesus is the one by whom we know the face of God.
Jesus is the one we know through spit-up and tears as a swaddled infant.
Jesus is the one we know who gets lost from his parents for days and we experience their fear.
And, Jesus is the one we know who heals lepers and talks to a Samaritan woman.
Jesus is the one we know who dies for us on a cross.
Jesus is the one who shows us the true and real face of God.

But, we can’t forget the Holy Spirit that last person of the Trinity.
It is the Holy Spirit that graces us with the gift of Jesus’ presence in the church.
The church lives as Jesus’ hands and feet because of the Holy Spirit.
It is the Holy Spirit who binds not only us to God the Father and Jesus the Son, but to one another in the corporate body of Christ.
Surely, it was the Holy Spirit who led me and guided me while I lived in Tanzania.
It was the Holy Spirit who prompted me to preach in Swahili.
And it was the Holy Spirit who gave me something to say.
The Holy Trinity is truly God’s way of giving us a name for the mystical and glorious ways that we experience God in both heart and mind!

As they say in Swahili,
Bwana Asifiwe! God’s name be praised—yes, all three!

The Rev. Adam Paul Kradel, Phd. (sort of)

Hey everyone,
Adam graduated last night in a personal and intimate ceremony at the Kohl Center in Madison. After hundreds of names were read, we felt like family singing on Wisconsin and Varsity. But, really, Adam will defend his dissertation in June and will have an official Phd. For now, he has a memo in a beautiful red, folder. We are so proud of him and all of his hard work.

Adieu to Abby and Colette

It's hard to say good-bye to people in general. However, living in a university town makes that a part of the culture. Today the kids and I enjoyed an afternoon eating our inaugural Michael's Frozen Custard and saying good-bye and thank you to our wonderful babysitters. Both women are parishioners at St. Francis House and have babysat for Elias since he was about 4 months old. They've both known Adelaide since she was about two weeks old. We had a great time basking in the sun and eating a Wisconsin custard.

Daddy's Back!

It's so nice to have Daddy home. Daddy was giving a paper at a Lutheran/Anglican/Roman Catholic Conference on the new Pew Study that has just come out. It was the first time there was a sample size of 15,000 respondents. ( I know that sounds so social -sciencey of me.) While he had a great time cavorting with Roman Catholic priests and Lutheran pastors, I was here taking care of the kiddos. I was dreading being on my own for four days--mostly because the night time stretch is the hardest and when you are at your lowest energy level. We actually had a fairly eventful few days which included one day of vomiting, two visits to the doctor, and three encounters with our "dead" VW passat. Don't get me started on how much I hate Volkswagen these days. I not only could not get the car started, but the whole car wouldn't unlock so I couldn't even get out the double stroller so that we could go to the park. Thankfully, my neighbor loaned me hers.

The plus side of being on our own is that we subsisted on the leftovers from our Mother's Day meal for the majority of the time. A leftover roast chicken and some pasta can go a long way. I also only had to run the dishwasher once and got to veg in front of the television without any snarky comments about my love of news magazines. Also, nobody complained that I hogged the covers.

I ran to the grocery store after picking Adam up from the airport and when I came home Adam said he was in culture shock. He was trying to put Adelaide to bed and feed Elias. I gently reminded him that I had been up to that scenario for the last few days and was close to perfecting it.

A Memorable Mother's Day

Well there ain't nothing like being thrown up on in the middle of church to remind you that you are a mother. Elias remembered my special day by opening his sweet little mouth and letting it all come out on his clothes and mine. I threw Addie to the woman in the pew behind me and borrowed a t-shirt from a fellow parishioner. I got him cleaned up enough to grab Adelaide and get home. I have been nursing him back to health with lots of kisses and water and plain pasta. As my own mother loved to say, "A woman's work is never done." Our church dandies are now drying and the house is almost back to a semblance of order. Happy Mother's Day to all who have shared this special moment on their lime green sweaters, too!

The Great Houdinni

This little girl is on the verge of crawling. Well, she is crawling, but only backwards. Today she crawled under the ottoman and then cried because she couldn't get out. Come out, come out wherever you are... In addition to being on the move, Adelaide is finally learning to chew. She just had some pasta and sauce last night and tried a waffle as well. It would behoove her to learn how to bring the food to her mouth. She holds it beautifully, but just doesn't put it in her mouth. It seems strange to me as most kids put everything in their mouths. Right now, it appears that Adelaide may get 4-6 teeth all at the same time as they seem ready to burst through her gums--all on the top row. Elias usually got one or two teeth at a time, but these teeth do not look like they are coming down and out, but rather bursting through the front of her gums in place. I wonder if she would let me take a picture--probably not. In any case, she is in some serious pain. Thank God for Tylenol. You know your kid is getting enough when the older child tells you his puppies need some Tylenol for their teeth.

Thank You, Mr. President

I NEVER thought I would say it, but thanks to the guy in the White house. However, all tolled you owe us a lot more than that check in the bank because we are paying for your war in Iraq all the time. And the clothes I just bought for my kids last week will be great for a year at the most, but won't help them pay off the budget deficit and the deficit spending. Oh, and if we move soon, you will owe us thousands of dollars that we have lost on the sale of our house because of the foreclosure and housing problems. So, thanks for nothing!