Where’s the Beef?

I’ve been a vegetarian for almost half of my life. My pops was serving burgers off the grill and they were more raw than usual (which means it was mooing because my pops likes his meat red). It struck me that I was eating flesh. If memory serves me right I gave up meat then and there (along with poultry). It took me another year or so to give up seafood, and about 5 years to stop eating breadsticks and sweets as my primary source of nutrition. Over time I realized I wasn’t really all that upset about animals getting killed. I think it should be done humanely but I won’t lie - I think they are a legitimate source of food. Being a vegetarian became more about personal health and environmental consequences. As my humanitarian interests have grown so have my convictions that the grain that cattle are force fed is wasteful and ridiculous and should feed humans. A while ago I realized if I was anti-industrial agriculture, especially with livestock, I should give up dairy and eggs as well, but I thought - no way! I kept thinking about it though and then I read Great American Detox Diet. I tried it for 2 weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years. I became a vegan who didn’t care about “animal rights”, never gave my friends a hard time about eating meat, and watched cooking shows that prepared dead carcasses all the time (I love No Reservations!). It was yet another way I didn’t belong - but I like being different, even among those that are different. Most of all I LOVE living according to my values and convictions.

So there I was, happily trodding along, until I met the future farm family. Through them I started to learn about the Slow Food movement, pasture raised cattle, the havoc that corn and soy wreak (thanks to the ridiculous farm bill), and this idea of local food communities/economies. Hmmmm….I thought….eating local is so much more better than organic or vegan or whatever.  I let that thought float around for a good long while. But I keep reading, and the thought keeps growing. If I am not a vegan for animal rights, but human rights, then I should be eating locally and that can include pasture raised cows and poultry. Whoa!

Not to mention I grow more and more uncomfortable with how elitist it is to be a vegan. It takes power, righteousness, and resources to refuse food - in a way that most of the world cannot. So there we have it. I’ve decided to eat meat, poultry, dairy, and eggs that are farmed in a local, conscientous, chemical free, eco-friendly way.

I can’t even imagine what it will be like to eat meat. My new found focus on local foods will actually eliminate a lot of restaurant and prepackaged eating - potentially more limiting than ever! Ideally I will mostly eat at home and prepare my food. If I eat out I will probably keep vegan, since the source of most ingredients will not be local or meet all of my above stated criteria. I have found a local (teehee) grocery store that is right up my alley - Lionettes Market. I’m planning my meat outing for this weekend. Let’s see how it goes!

Call to Action (via poetry)

This weekend was wicked busy for me. I am working on a pro-life/abortion/women’s empowerment/voting post….but that may take a good little bit. In the absence of a whole lot of time I do want to share my favorite poem. It is a poem I’ve read and reread often since starting this blog. It’s on my facebook page, part of it is often my gmail message. I’m not a huge fan of poetry. Besides blissfully short haiku’s and Emily Dickinson (and my friend Jerry in Michigan) I haven’t had the attention span or training to appreciate poetry. I definitely wrote a lot in the midst of my teenage angst, which was long and angstful, but since then just haven’t felt like I could connect. So that is why the impact and power of this poem is all the more notable. Overall this poet is wildly popular, which I usually shy away from like the plague (you probably don’t want to know my thoughts on Phelp’s). I just can’t help it - I’ve loved him since I did a report on him in 7th grade. In terms of copyright I don’t know if I can actually legally post his poem here (can you tell I went to library school for a year…) but oh well! I’ll take my chances. teehee.

Let America Be America Again by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed - Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man can be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality to me, Nor freedom in this “homeland for the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek - And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean - Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today - O, Pioneers! I am the man who never go ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream In that Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, that even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That’s made America the land it has become. O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home - For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore, And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea, and torn from Black Africa’s strand I came To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we’ve dreamed And all the songs we’ve sung And all the hopes we’ve held And all the flags we’ve hung, the millions who have nothing for our pay -Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again - The land that never has been yet - And yet must be - the land where every man is free. The land that’s mine - the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME - Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose - The steel of freedom does not strain. From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives, We must take back our land again, America!

O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath - America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain - All, all the stretch of those great green states - And make America again!

Amen! (that’s added by me)

Politics while waiting for a tofu dog

I haven’t been grocery shopping for a while. I was out of town last week but even before that it had been a while. Ideally I would buy all my produce from local sources at a farmer’s market but without a car and limited time I just don’t seem to get around to it. And yes, I feel very guilty about that and it makes me all the more eager to live on a farm and eat entirely homegrown, not to mention be composting and canning. Anyway…the point is that I have had to eat out quite a bit (due to the lack of grocery shopping). I mostly grab lunch in Jamaica Plain, either at Fiore’s Bakery or the new City Feed and Supply deli counter. The other night, after a wicked cool boxing workout, I decided to grab a tofu dog at Spike’sin Allston. I ended up having quite the lively debate while I waited for my dog to come up.

I was wearing my Brasil shirt from working out and the guy at the register asked me how Brasil was doing. I wittily replied “hopefully the same as when I was there in December”, he chuckled and asked specifically about the Olympics. I told him I was boycotting the Olympics, even though it is actually only the commercials. I don’t have a tv or a way of watching so it just feels easier to say “I’m boycotting”. He scoffed and asked why. I made reference to the genocide in Darfur and the Chinese support of the Sudanese government that commits such atrocities.

That’s when it got lively. He asked how I could disregard the actions of the US government and disrespect Chinese culture and people. Didn’t I think that the Chinese people were proud of the events and don’t the games transcend national politics? Not to mention, he added, how many thousands of innocent people the US had killed in Iraq. Did I think that the US was better than China. “OH NO!” I exclaimed - I have nothing but respect for Chinese culture, I studied/love history and taught it for a good long while. But the Olympic games represent more than the people of China, who are oppressed and censored, but actually most directly represent the government of China. And the games are more than games - they are nationalistic representations of ideals and values that generate a lot of money! Not to mention that China is a government that supports Sudan by buying 2/3 of their oil, refuses to support sanctions, and supplies them with arms. Just because my government takes actions I don’t agree with doesn’t mean that I can’t protest as a citizen of the world, as an act of humanity. Should I just ignore it, I asked him? He said I guess not. Perhaps I should do more, he said. (really, he did!)

I ended the conversation by asking for my tofu dog to be wrapped and not put in the standard styrofoam box. He said, “ah, you care about the environment too?” I wished him a great night and left with a smile. It was a wonderful, fun, and engaging conversation. I’ve found since I’ve started blogging that I am more and more open about my faith and my social justice convictions. The great part of the conversation was that it was filled with laughter, smiles, and loads of intensity. (I even mentioned Tibet at one point, though I know very little of what China is doing there).

I am so grateful to God to be growing in my ability to disagree and enter into complex conversations with those that have different view points. I used to get annoyed when someone didn’t agree with me, now I find it pretty stimulating! I’d even consider dating a Republican…as long as they were willing to admit they were wrong at least 50% of the time….teehee….

Melissa the Farmer

Where will I be in five years? What is my greatest hearts desire? How do I envision my faith in action? When will I finally settle down? Five year’s, heart’s desire, vision, when……all lead to one answer. A permaculture farm and intentional community hostel in Central America with 4 partners from DC. Seriously.

ORIGINS - When I lived in DC I roomed with Chorizo and Moose (aliases). Both are brilliant women highly engaged in agro-ecology and environmental issues. Upon my departure Booboo (alias) moved into the house and immediately became an integral part of the 1830 (our house number) crew. Chorizo wrote us late last fall and asked if we would be interested in partnering with her to live on the land in a sustainable way. We responded enthusiastically and Booboo brought her Greenpeace friend Drew on board. We’ve written a business plan and Chorizo/Moose/Drew are spending this summer researching various farm models in Costa Rica and Nicaragua.

WHAT/ACTION - ”Our permaculture farm and hostel will provide an education, eco-friendly experience for young travelers and a vibrant community space for tourists and locals alike. Our mission is to live intentionally, teach collaboratively, and promote sustainable living. Through these actions we will cultivate a brand of tourism that is not based on consumerism, but rather oriented towards education in sustainability, and cultural integration. This business strives to uphold the three ideals of ecological, social, and economic prosperity.”

ME - I am definitely the least environmentally inclined of the crew. I would rather be in a concrete jungle than the great outdoors, to say the least. However, I am passionate about sustainability, local food systems, equal access to nutritious foods, and community development. I most likely will devote my efforts, and minimal talents, to the kitchen and local youth empowerment. What that means has yet to be determined but it’s incredibly exciting to think about. After spending the weekend in DC, daydreaming with Booboo and Moose, I’m more excited and inspired than ever.

FAITH - This dream doesn’t directly involve my faith….but….there is nothing I decide, do, or say that is too far removed from what I believe. Every way in which I care about people and the earth stems from a faith in God and what that means to me.

I love November

It is my absolute favorite month. It starts out with All Saints Day, which between falling in love with Dorothy Day and taking Contemporary Spirituality with Robert Ellsburg, has become one of my favorite Holy Days of Obligation. There is lots of MSU football in the month of November, and hopefully this year they won’t break my heart quite so badly. It is fall, and I love the cool air (oddly enough considering it doesn’t ever hot enough for me) and the colors are magnificent. I am totally obsessed with stepping on crunchy leaves that have fallen to the ground. I adore Thanksgiving, the time with family, friends, and feasting. Pumpkin pie (vegan style) and apple cider may be some of my favorite substances on the planet (aside from peanut butter) and they are abundant in November. In Brasil November 20th is a day of Black consciousness, which is a huge deal for a society in total denial about their racial disparity and oppression. The Guns n Roses song November Rain still rocks. I can only hope that I fall in love, get married, and die in November. Seriously. 

That’s a whole lot of reasons to love November.  But really - the fundamental reason I love November is because of that very special Tuesday when I get to vote. I love politics and therefore I love November. This November I really really want to vote for Barack Obama. I just don’t know that I will.

I can’t believe I just wrote that, thought that, said it! This is the first election where I will use my faith to evaluate the merit of the candidate in every single domain. I have often voted for candidates who strongly supported abortion - I did not vote for them because of that, but in spite of that. I have no problem with abortion being illegal. Or euthanasia. Or the death penalty. Or torture. 

As far as my faith dictates I CAN vote for a candidate who supports abortion as long as I don’t vote for them for that reason. There has been some hoopla with conservative Catholics getting the smack down from super conservative bishops and being denied communion. I’ve got a lot of non Catholics out there so I don’t know that I can emphasize enough how incredibly devastating that would be. But that is not why I may not vote for Obama (still giving me the heebeegeebees to think that thought). I just need to consider it, evaluate it, pray about it.

I spent this weekend in DC and couldn’t be more fired up about politics and foreign policy and community action. Along with that passion has come profound consideration of what I need to seriously contemplate for the 2008 election.

I feel 90% sure I will vote for Barack Obama but I just wanted to put it out there that I may not. As November approaches I will post more specifically on candidate platforms and my thoughts. For right now just realizing that my faith will truly intersect, actually shape, the action I take in the next election felt important to acknowledge. Lets see how it plays out….

My favorite prayers

 I started the week talking about atheism. I’m going to end talking about prayer. Prayer comes in many forms and serves many functions. I love giving up thanks for all my many blessings and offering up, in love, those that struggle. I offer up the people of Darfur, Afghanistan, and Iraq for the daily violence they endure. I offer up my grandmothers, especially my grandma Christina suffering from Parkinson’s. I include prayers for children that feel unloved/unwanted/neglected, as well as prayers for my cousin that is incarcerated. I feel connected to humankind and needs greater than my own when I pray. My prayer life fluctuates….between rocking every day with deep reflection and gratitude to lame, lame, lame. Despite that - I always know how important prayer is and there are two standbys that I rely on….

The prayer of St. Francis of Assisi -

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

In portuguese I pray Ato de Caridade -

Eu vos amo, meu Deus, de todo o meu coracao e sobre todas as coisas, porque sois infinitatamente bom e amavel, e antes quero perder tudo que vos ofender. Por amo de vos amo ao meu proximo como a mim mesmo.

The best part of prayer for me is that when I feel most lost, confused, and indecisive I offer it up to God and he shows me the way. Amen

Activist update

I posted last Friday about various weekend activism happenings for the metro Boston area. Here’s how it went:

On Saturday August 2nd I went to the Get Up & Dance fundraiser for the Sancta Maria House. I learned a lot about the facility, danced to some fun music, and met interesting people. I didn’t explain SMH very well before so here is a more detailed description - “the house is staffed and operated by 25 volunteers, some of whom were formerly homeless themselves. The homeless women who stay there come form all walks of life, races, and religious faiths. They range in age from 13 to 91. The Sancta Maria House provides beds for 10 women each night. Guests arrive at 7 in the evening and leave the next day at 8 after being served breakfast. Each guest can stay up to 7 nights in the month.” The dance fundraiser concept was great. No one I invited attended (boohoo) but I’m glad I went on my own. My favorite dance partner was forward, carefree, and demanded all my attention (some of my favorite characteristics…seriously) I’ve included a picture of the two of us.

This picture was taken after she won the Arabian dance competition (I sat out). She is entering 1st grade and was darling. She danced with 6 boys that night and claimed one of them as her boyfriend. I was not nearly as lucky in love as she was but I was thrilled to be able to support Sancta Maria House and I did sign up to be an overnight volunteer. I’ll keep you posted….

The Darfur rally in Worcester took place Sunday August 3rd. Getting to Worcester was an adventure - I took the T to South Station, a Greyhound bus to Worcester, and then walked to City Hall to get the WRT bus to Institute Park. The rally was rather….lame. There were not even 100 people and the protester’s were more energetic than the presenters (they were shouting that Congressman McGovern is a war criminal and that genocide is not occurring in Darfur). I’m glad I went though - I added a tile to the tent/quilt that is being sent to Washington, DC and had my picture taken by a photographer for the Worcester Telegram. I haven’t seen myself yet. (I made the Not On Our Watch tile….)

But that wasn’t the best part of the day. The real value of the day happened in my adventures to locate the rally. I spoke to a recovering drug addict who led me to the right bus and gave me a quarter so I could ride (I wouldn’t normally  describe someone according to their addiction but she introduced herself that way) and I also talked to a VERY friendly bus driver. Both of them had never heard of Darfur. I was able to give a brief description to both of them and increase awareness - even just a little (which was the point of the rally).

I’ve also decided to boycott the commercials during the Olympics and join Dream for Darfur(as recommended by Jeff Govendo of the MA Coalition to Save Darfur…which I joined as well). Granted, I don’t have a tv or get even one station on my roommates tv…BUT if I do happen to watch the Olympics somewhere I will make sure to not watch commercials. teehee.

Overall I really enjoyed the transportation inconveniences and the discomfort of not knowing anyone at either event. It just felt really good to be reminded that caring about issues doesn’t always come easy but most definitely leads to unexpected surprises and perhaps results I can’t even imagine. I often feel that I am not doing enough but after a weekend of activism followed by my standard Monday morning at St. Francis house to serve breakfast (which is getting more and more fun as I meet more and more of the volunteers) I feel good. I don’t know if it is good enough but for right now it is good.

Atheism

What does it mean to not believe? How do I, as a believer, engage with the non-believer? Am I called to justify, explain, and rationalize my faith? Is it helpful or a hindrance?

Here is the thing…for very selfish reasons I want to surround myself with those that are spiritually stronger than me. When I dated “the prof” (alias for the theology PhD) and he ’schooled’ me in church doctrine or we ended conversations in prayer or we debated how God calls us to participate in society I felt a satisfaction and attraction that I had never experienced. And he wasn’t even Catholic! The very short relationship (which has gratefully translated into friendship…he gives great advice) made an impact that I hope I never relinquish. Just a few weeks ago I was at Boston College - surrounded by Catholics and immersed in dialogue about saints and church theology. My prayer life was off the charts - I was inspired, connected, and challenged to grow. Most of my life I have managed my spiritual growth in the absence of that. The love of my life (up to this point) was a disinterested secularist. My best friend is a hedonist. My family views religion very differently than I do. And that has been fine. But after ‘the prof’ and those classes I wanted more. Especially romantically. I wanted what I had with him - but with someone better suited for me (which I whole heartedly think he deserves as well). Given that reality I decided to avoid dating atheists, agnostics, etc. No problem, right? I mean I go to church every week, I blog about faith, I wear a cross, a rosary ring, I have a tattoo of the Virgin Mary. What atheist could possibly be attracted to me?

Ahhhhh…so here is the story. Despite my best attempts to be a raging scary religious Catholic my liberal tendencies may make seem more accepting than I want or should appear. This led me to going on 2 dates with an atheist (shock and horror - I know). I knew he wasn’t Catholic - he made several comments that indicated a general disdain of organized religion. But I wasn’t prepared for NO belief in God. Luckily we had that conversation within a week of knowing each other. Once I realized he wasn’t a believer of anything I was done. I mean really - so many of the decisions I make in life are counter cultural and don’t make any sense unless you are a person of faith. How could an atheist ever get that, and why would they want to?!?

It was only two dates but I had really enjoyed my time with him and since Friday I’ve had significant moments of doubt. He was taller than me (if you know me you know how rarely I date someone taller), latino, cute, funny, polite, thoughtful, interestingly different from me, a whiz at opening every door - a real gentleman (of course this is based on the little I knew about him). Our first date was fabulous, really a top three in my history of first dates. Our second date I had a great time but was a little less sure. However, if he had been Catholic I’m sure I would have been insanely interested. (good thing he isn’t!)

When I realized he was an atheist I had an opportunity to decide if I wanted to justify my faith to him, to share and explain why I believe. I most definitely chose not to. Did I make the right choice? It is not something that matters for him because he doesn’t want to be friends. Rather I ask the question for the future.

I’m getting better and better at identifying what I do and don’t want (don’t want flirts or meth cooks - do want persistence, patience, curiosity) and not feeling (too) insecure about making that decision quickly and moving on. But is faith a make or break issue, in the absence of knowing the whole of a person?

The best part of the atheist debacle is it made me realize I’m probably not really ready for all this crap. I am not actually so eager for a relationship. I said that not to long ago with my boyfriend post but since then have been much more active about seeking out a relationship. Maybe I don’t want to put myself out there, open up about my thoughts and experiences, share my baggage and insecurities, etc, etc. But it does have me asking - is there some grey area between ‘the prof’ (who is a fabulous and brilliant man….teehee) and ‘the atheist’? Whatcha think?

Get your activist groove on!

This weekend is a great one for activists in the Boston area. I’ll definitely be dancing and hopefully be at the Darfur rally in Worcester (which you wouldn’t even believe is pronounced wa-stir). Don’t forget what John Lennon said: “Apathy isn’t it. We can do something”

GET UP & DANCE - on Saturday August 2nd there will be a dance fundraiser for Sancta Maria House. Sancta Maria house is a 10 bed shelter for women. I can’t think of a better way to raise money for a worthwhile cause - I will definitely be there, with bells on! Here is a description of the event: 

“We have lots in store for you including dance competitions, 50/50 raffle, desert tables & yes, there is a cash bar. The event will be taking place at the Knights of Columbus Hall at 321 Washington Street in Brighton Center. Please bring your friends, family, colleagues, or whoever else you can think of. There will also be dance competition held at 8:45, 9:45, 10:45, and 11:45 respectively. Each person competing will have to pay 5 dollars to get a number and we have the dances set up in the following way. The $5 fee is donated to the Sancta Maria House repair fund. The competition will be judged on enthusiasm and liveliness. Those people who are displaying the most fun and excited dancing will win the competition of the hour. “
8:45pm Dance with someone who shares your Birthday Month (Swing)
9:45pm Dance with someone of the same Heritage (Arabic)
10:45pm Dance with someone wearing same Color Clothing (Polka)
11:45pm Dance with someone you just met this Evening (Salsa)

DAY OF HOPE: DARFUR - on Sunday August 3rd, in Worcester, there is a rally for Darfur. Here are some details:

“Congressman James Mcgovern’s office is organizing Day of Hope Darfur. The purpose of this event is to raise awareness about the genocide in Darfur and how people can act to help end it. We have found speakers from various groups working to end the genocide. Apart from that we have also found an eclectic group of performers. Including but not limited to, flamenco dancing, Indian dancing, the Berkley singing group, and local bands. Food and beverages will be provided on this summer afternoon and all are welcome. So tell everyone you know and come down to Worcester, MA to Institute Park!”

Belonging

Sometimes therapy feels uneventful and maybe even a little pointless. But sometimes it is a dozy and provides invaluable insights. A few weeks ago my therapist gave me a values inventory to fill out. It listed words like “worthwhile” and “powerful” and I had to evaluate how often I feel that way. I feel attractive, safe, competent, etc between 60 and 80% of the time. I like to think that is an indication of a healthy self-esteem, and not false vanity. To my surprise, “sense of belonging” was the notable exception. In reflecting on a few weeks of interactions with friends, family, coworkers, and strangers I realized I only feel I belong about 30-40% of the time. I really was shocked to discover I think I’m attractive but don’t often feel like I belong. So I’ve been thinking…..why?

I moved a lot as a kid. Really. I was born in Brasil and then moved to Michigan, from there to Texas, off to New Jersey, back to Michigan, and then to Pennsylvania, back to Michigan AGAIN, and then back to Pennsylvania, and then back to….Michigan! I often was the new kid, even when I was going back to the same school. I never quite felt like I understood all the cultural norms of each place and I definitely didn’t have shared memories with the other kids. More than that though, I just didn’t feel like I belonged. I always hated the suburbs, even as a little kid I felt stifled and bored. I never felt comfortable around all white people, which I think stems from having a mom that was a foreigner. Fifty percent of marriages may end in divorce but when my folks did it it was unheard of for the father to win custody - which mine did. In high school I dyed my hair black, shaved half of it, drove the oldest car in the parking lot, and didn’t smoke weed (even though EVERYONE thought I did). But here is the thing - despite fleeting moments of yearning to join the “in crowd” - for the most part I LOVED being “different”. I never saw it as not belonging.

And today the feeling remains. I’m American, in a way that means more than the United States. I am vegan but not for animal rights. I still move. A lot. I don’t really like camping but I want to own a farm in Central America. I’m insanely opinionated and most definitely a feminist but I complain if my man doesn’t open my doors. I’m devoutly Catholic but staunchly liberal. So in most circles and situations I don’t have a sense of belonging.

Except in church. As I kneel in a pew and pray to God and prepare myself to receive the body and blood of Christ I feel like I belong. This past Sunday I went to mass at St.Anthony’s and it was in Portuguese. I get insanely frustrated by how lame my Portuguese is and always feel self-conscious around Brasilians that I’m not related to. But….at mass I feel like I belong. Any church, any place, any language, and I belong. My very good friend Donaldo, an avowed atheist, would tell me that I’m using religion as a fraternity. Here is the thing, I don’t feel like I belong because of the people or the priest or the music. I feel like I belong because I believe.

I like feeling different. I actually cultivate those aspects of my personality and avoid anything that remotely resembles the status quo. I would even say that I don’t mind the sense of discomfort that comes from not belonging. It just makes me treasure my faith and time in church all that much more. I’m okay with not belonging - I’m grateful that whatever my childhood, no matter how inconvenient my beliefs, or how strange my convictions - that I always feel a little edgy, a tad on the outside. But I don’t ever want to take for granted where I do feel like I belong, and for me one of the few places is with God in his house. Amen!