Why I left Him: A Sincerely Christian Apology

Dear Big-Steeple-Mega-Church-Preacher,

I attended your church on Sunday and I left halfway through your sermon. I am truly sorry.

For the past month, I have been attending churches throughout our city – some big, some small, some liturgical, some not. I’ve sung gospel hymns, praise and worship choruses, out of books and on screens. I’ve listened to rock and roll and offerings in Latin, Greek, and Spanish.  I’ve prayed to her, him and them. I’ve managed to do so with an open heart. I’ve found God’s amazing love in places I least expected it – in worship communities far removed from my own home base of Anglicanism. I have truly enjoyed worshiping in all sorts of places, with all sorts of people.  

I have prayed using all sorts of terms for God over the past month. I’m not big on referring to God in masculine terms.  Years of seminary and looking at my own relationships with men and women in my life want me to believe that God is much bigger than “him” or “her.”  I’d like to think God is both, or better yet, more. Your opening praise hymns got under my skin a little, but I kept an open mind. I really wanted to worship with you.

Then, it happened – the sermon which saddened me deeply. The sermon which called out Anglicans, Eastern Orthodox and Catholics everywhere for worshiping idols through though icons lit with candles and incense. I have icons and I occasionally use them to pray. I occasionally seek places that have icons as personal solitude and respite and as windows to God, not God on their own, but as visions of God’s love, work, and beauty beyond what the white walls of my home look like. When you stated that deeply devoted Christians who find pilgrimage and solace in statues like Christ the Redeemer in Brazil and Bolivia are worshiping idols, you really lost me. That’s when I walked out.  The only thing that would have lost me faster was a discussion on gay hate.

I’ve been on those pilgrimages, not to Corcovado or to San Pedro, but to altars in Italy and Lexington. I’ve sat and walked on bended and hurting knees to attempt to glimpse at Christ on staircases and altars with incense and icons. That devotion allowed me to contemplate Jesus’ deep sacrifice for us in powerful ways. 

I came to your church on the eve of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Birthday – a day when we celebrate unity, justice, and respect for all people. Martin Luther King, certainly understood sacrifice far beyond my sore devotional knees. That night, God spoke to me in another form of devotion – dream.

Sometime, during the night, I too had a dream – a dream that I was in trouble and lost. A dream where I needed help – and a former boyfriend was there to pick me up, hug me, and get me safely to a car. Like Jesus, my ex-boyfriend saved me. When I awoke this morning, I logged on to check his facebook page. It was filled with images of Phil – you know, gay-hating, duck-hunting, Phil Robertson, Phil. Had God sent me a dream in the night, that Jesus could have been a gay-hater? That is not my Jesus and there is no way God would send me that message on the eve of MLK!

Dear Big-Steeple-Mega-Church-Preacher, you and I actually agree on something. Whereas I believe icons are forms of devotion and not idols, whereas, I believe dreams are God’s inner spirit working and not satanic spirits, we both agree that much of our devotion should come through scripture. Imagine my surprise when God had these words for me today –

To you who are ready for the truth, I say this: Love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with energies of prayer for that person. If someone slaps you in the face, stand there and take it. If someone grabs your shirt giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. If someone takes unfair advantage of your, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.

Here is a simple rule of thumb for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you; then grab the inactive and do it for them!  If you only love the loveable, do you expect a pat on the back? Run-of-the-mill sinners do that. If you only help those who help you, do you expect a medal? Garden-variety sinners do that. If you only give for what you hope to get out of it, do you think that’s charity? The stingiest of pawnbrokers does that.

I tell you, love your enemies…. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives towards us, generously and graciously, even when we are at our worst. Our Father is kind: you be kind.” (Luke 6: 27-38, The Message).

Dear Big-Steeple-Mega-Church-Preacher, I am sorry. I am sorry I did not stay to have an open dialogue conversation. If I had preached or written something that hurt someone else, I would hope that they would confront me. I hope that they would be kind with my broken ego and bring me back to reality with love and grace. If ex-boyfriend was to call me today, I would be able to still love him with grace and I would want to dialogue with him about Phil. Yet, I didn’t see you as a person – I saw you as a “Big-Steeple-Mega-Church-Preacher,” and for that I apologize.

I am sorry because on a week where we talk about unity, respect, and love for all people I am having a really hard time respecting you. I am sorry that sometimes I find it much easier to love everyone else- the gay, the transgendered, the Hispanic, the African-American, the immigrant, the politically incorrect, the politician, the homeless, the criminal, the prostitute, the Roman Catholic and the Eastern-Orthodox before I love you. “Those people” do not slap me in the face. “Those people” often love me and I love them back. Yet, God shows us generosity, forgiveness and love to all, and you are no less deserving of that love.

Most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t make it until confession, communion or prayer – the acts that remind us no matter how broken we both are, that God loves, accepts us, and calls us as living members of Jesus’ work. I am sorry that I was unable to confess in your community that I had not loved you, my neighbor, child of God, as much as I loved myself that day. Through Christ’s example, I’m trying harder to be kind, I’m trying harder to know your name, I’m trying harder to love. It is really hard to love you sometimes, and that is why I ask for God’s help.  I’ll pray for you, will you pray for me? 

WWJZ – Why Would Jesus Zumba?

I love to dance. I believe it is scriptural – when the Israelites crossed the Red Sea and escaped from Pharaoh, Miriam led them in dance. When the psalmist speaks of praising God, they speak of singing and dancing. Jeremiah prophesizes about times of hope and newness complete with dance. At the core of our beings, dancing is related to a deep and inner joy. I imagine it connects us to the elements of God’s unfathomable creativity within us. Like corporate singing and communal prayer it unites us, beyond ourselves, to persons in our midst.

I hate to admit, that as a Christian minister, I do not always participate in corporate worship away from home.  For me, travel is often a time of deep prayer and discovery.  I journal, read scripture, contemplate God’s abundance and unendingness by spending time with ocean, sky, dessert and forest.  I stumble into churches to pray and to admire the beauty of architecture. Occasionally, I stay for a choir or organ practice that I happen upon.  Sometimes, I return for a service.

On the contrary, I rarely miss Zumba. One of the first things I do on vacation is open my Zumba app to see if there are classes in my area. My desire to Zumba everywhere is not because I am a fitness nut. At a size 16 and someone who really enjoys food. I believe in taking care of my body, but not that much. I would also never say Zumba means as much to me as sharing in worship of God with community. But it is a close second. What is it about Zumba that makes me never want to miss?  

#1. Diverse Community – With God’s great vision, I believe God is able to see and accept the differences in each of us. Like the church, Zumba is an intentionally diverse age community. In any given class, children to 90 year-olds dance together. In addition, Zumba is an extremely diverse cultural community. The music spans across the globe: hip-hop, Bollywood, Latin, Middle Eastern, 80’s rock. Often, I attend classes where people do not speak the same language. Dance, like song, like art, like ritual, cuts across cultural barriers joining us into one.

#2. Acceptance – I really don’t dance well.  I’ve seen pictures. I look like a complete fool.  Most of the time, I am off beat and out of place.  But, no matter where I go, the Zumba community seems to accept me as “one of them.” Perhaps, because the only requirement to Zumba is that you have a desire to dance. Not that you are good at dancing, not that you follow along by sitting, standing and bending at the right time – but that you have a DESIRE to want to be there. No one judges you because you have desire.

#3. Encouragement – Zumba is a tremendously positive environment. Instructors sign off on their emails with “besos” (the Spanish word for kisses). They spend time at the beginning and end of each class in humility thanking their students for coming. They remind each class how beautiful they are (I’ve seen the room from their vantage point; the DANCING is NOT what makes the class beautiful).

#5. Admittance of flaws – I like my Zumba instructors imperfect. Sure there are those out there that look like “models” but there are more out there who look like me - with pinches of fat and imperfect hair. Zumba instructors mess up. A lot. Then the laugh it off and keep on going. They admit fault and they humbly rely on the rest of the class to catch them and correct them.  

#6. Live participation – Rarely, do people attend Zumba out of obligation or out of guilt. They are there because they want to be there. The air is thick with intensity and intention. The energy is full and active participation.

#7. Authenticity – Not all the music is “moral.” Not all the dance moves are for the southern gentile, but they are real. They scream humanity. In a range of emotions – from celebratory hops to anger punches, they are real. From the sensual salsa to guttural hip hop – dancing forces you in to accepting and deal with the wide range of emotions that exist within your human soul.  

I would never say Zumba could take the place of church. There is no sacrifice outside one’s self, no talk of unconditional love, no focus on ultimate forgiveness. It isn’t church, nor is it a substitute for it.  It is however beautiful, spiritual, and possibly a parable. The Kingdom of Heaven is diverse, accepting, and authentic community where people can be themselves, just as they are? The kingdom of heaven is like… Zumba? The kingdom of heaven is like….Church? 

An Epiphany Trek to Beauty, Plus Some

This month, I have had the great pleasure of worshiping outside of Christ Church Cathedral –my spiritual and professional home for the past seven years.  On December 1^st, I left the walls of my own comfortable faith tradition to experience worship as a stranger, nomad, seeker and pilgrim. To date, I have worshiped in mega-churches and small country churches, with the non-denominationals and the super-structurals. I began this journey wondering what it was like to experience warm hospitality verses cold prickling stares entering a new church for the first time. The inner sociologist in me wondered how churches were creating space to welcome the stranger in their midst and what effect this was having on the body of Christ.

What I am discovering, is not only that churches everywhere are warm and welcoming, but the diversity of Christian tradition has far more to teach us about the nature of God than simply God is welcoming.  I never have been able to describe God, but I have always described our creator as more than we can imagine. As an Anglican, I love the words that often close Morning Prayer – “Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20).  Because I know God is the one whom is more than we can comprehend or imagine, I have often believed heaven to be the best of all that I can imagine, plus some. Heaven like a patched work quilt of the most beautiful fabrics ever produced, plus some. A sprinkle of evangelical spirit here, mixed with a dose of high church liturgy there, a heartfelt Spanish love song mixed with an engaged and philosophically thought provoking sermon, plus some. Because God is always bigger than we can vision or imagine, I imagine our most authentic worship is more creative, more diverse, and includes more cultures than we can ever envision, plus some.

To date, two of my most powerful worship experiences have been this cacophony of praise. Both experiences laid within my own tradition of the Episcopal Church, however, both included powerful rituals outside WASP custom. In one, I led a compline service with a non-denominational , evangelical. He desired to steer away from the Book of Common Prayer to offer a more spirit- led prayer. His acoustic guitar skills joined with my desire to follow liturgy and tradition and created a service of altar-building around the hymn “Come Though Fount of Every Blessing.” It was beautiful.  The second, a Rite II Eucharist from the El Libro de Oracion Comun, included Hispanic teens leading one praise song and white southern teens leading the next.

If God can grant me such powerful worship experiences within the context of my own tradition, what awe-inspiring lessons of God’s goodness might there be to learn from praising outside my own church?

In my nine-years of professional full-time ministry I have talked, dialogued, and shared meals with Christians from other traditions. I have jointly served on councils, drafted policies, marched in protests, and shared service projects. Yet, I have rarely worshiped in God’s cacophony of diversity. Worship is what Christians do – it is our most precious offering, yet we rarely worship together. In my experience, we rarely worship together because it is difficult to figure out.  If we had communion would it be symbolic or real? Would a woman or homosexual be able to preach? Who would we pray to and how would we do it? Our fears of how to do things in order to not offend one another keep us from being open to the beauty that God has given us.

In the next month, I have a wonderful opportunity to explore the diverse goodness that God has to offer through traditions of all shapes and sizes.  You are invited to join me as I pilgrim through the diverse lands of God’s orthodox and unorthodox, denominational and non, spirit-led and spirit-fed people. Yesterday, was the Celebration of Epiphany. On this day, we celebrate the Magis' journey to the Christ Child. Like them, I expect to find great beauty on my journey, plus some. 

Train Car Dining with the Capitol

A few weeks ago, I had the amazing experience of welcoming three new children into the body of Christ through baptism. As Episcopalians, we renew our own baptismal covenant with them as a sign that we are all united in Christ’s body. That covenant begins with reciting the Apostles Creed and ends with five questions. 

Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?... Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord? Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?... Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?... Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”(Book of Common Prayer, 304-305).

With each question, the community resounds, “I will with God’s help!” Those questions remind us that daily as Christians, we strive to live this covenant, remembering to strive for justice and peace, remembering to respect the dignity of every human, remembering to love our neighbors as ourselves.

The evening of the baptism, our youth group continued our study of the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games, despite it violence, is an excellent teaching on how to remember that all persons have worth. Katniss remembers that Rue deserves a proper burial. She refuses to kill her fellow tributes and recognizes them as individuals, not animals.

As we look forward to Catching Fire, the second book in the Hunger Games Trilogy this week, we are reminded Katniss’ love for all people effects those around her. Katniss lives in a world where the capitol rarely creates relationships with those in the districts. Relationships between capitol and district citizens are generally reserved for the tributes. As tributes are prepared for the Hunger Games, they are assigned a vast number of captiol people to help them prepare – hairdressers, consultants, and trainers. By the time Katniss Everdeen enters the arena for the second time, these capital citizens have spent countless hours dinning with her, prepping her, and talking with her. They have created a relationship with her that mimics friendship and attachment instead of power and unengagement. As she enters the arena for the second time, her prep team is an emotional mess. Her character states,

It’s something of a revelation that those in the Capitol feel anything at all about us. They   certainly don’t have a problem watching children murdered every year. But maybe they know too much about the victors, especially the ones who’ve been celebrities for ages, to forget we’re more like human beings. It’s more like watching your own friends die. More like the Games are for those of us in the districts.” (Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire, 284-285). 

Treating others with dignity and respect begins with relationship. How often have ourselves or our families shown disrespect to an entire group of people by making large sociological generalizations? Then, one day, we form a relationship with one person and our heart begins to change? We hear ourselves saying, “Most gay people are weird, but my uncle Bob is the coolest person on earth.” Or, “All teenagers are rebellious, but my niece Sally is the sweetest person I know.” Or, “Homeless people are on the street because they don’t work, but volunteered the other night at a soup kitchen and I met this great guy Tim who just had some bad luck and is working.” [Insert your own example here.]

Relationships don’t end with just one person. As we get to know our Bob’s, Sally’s, and Tim’s, we let them into our hearts and invite them into our homes. In turn, they invite us into their lives. Suddenly, we find ourselves surrounded at dinner tables with all sorts of people who were different and unapproachable which now are loving and wonderful.

I recently attended the Kentucky Council of Churches Annual Conference. There I was reminded that not long ago in our nation’s history, Republicans and Democrats were actual friends. Sure, they engaged in heated debate on the Senate floor, but then they dined and drank with one another. They talked about their families. On the floor they disagreed, at the dinner table they harmonized. I wonder how often that happens now.

I remember another person who dined with different sorts of people. He ate with tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes. He invited the poor, crippled, and sick to his banquet table. He left us with some fantastic examples of how to dine with one another and how to respect the worth, dignity, and respect of all. The last time I checked, his table was still open. The last time I looked around, there were still all sorts of diverse people sitting there on Sundays. The last time I read, he still challenged us to do the same. 

Thanks Katniss

For the past several weeks, Christ Church Cathedral youth have reflected theologically on the Hunger Games. Unless you have been in hibernation, you may have noticed that Catching Fire, the second movie in the trilogy releases, on November 22.

On Sunday, our group watched the scene of Rue’s death from the first movie. Many people are familiar with this scene. Katniss, the main character forms a beautiful relationship with a young girl named Rue. The two are very different – Rue is a meek, hardworking, darker skinned, twelve-year old orchard picker from District 11. Katniss is a strong, rebellious, white, daughter of a deceased coal-miner from District 12. In the Hunger Games Arena, Katniss befriend Rue. As she does so, she finds that the differences between the two are far less than their similarities. Rue reminds Katniss of her younger sister, Prim. They form a special bond.

Upon Rue’s death in the arena, Katniss refuses to just let Rue be another disrespected and forgotten child who dies. Lovingly, Katniss prepares her body for burial with a wonderful blanket of flowers. It is a turning point in the story, for it allows all people to see Rue as a person of value and worth. By her actions, Katniss points out that all persons are worthy of dignity and respect.

God who made us knows that we are all worthy of respect. The Gospel of Luke reminds us how valuable to God we are – “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten in God’s sight. But even the hairs of your head are all counted. Do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Luke 12:6-7, NRSV). We matter to God. All of us matter. We matter when we are up and when we are down, when we are from Appaliachia for from the capital, when we are 12, 16 and 102, when we are meek and when we are strong. All of us matter.

All of us matter to God and because of that, God sends us Katniss’ everywhere to remind us of how special we are.

Matthew 25 reminds us that whenever we help those in need – the prisoner, the stranger, the naked, the thirsty, and the sick we help Christ. All of us have been in a position to help those around us and all of us have been in a position to need help. As we live our days, let us be mindful of the people who God has sent to help us. 

A prayer written with help from Christ Church Middle Schoolers –

God, we give you thanks for loving and caring for us. We thank you for all the times that we were sick and you healed us, thirsty and you filled us with living water, imprisoned and you visited us. We thank you especially for the times when we were lost and you found us, when we were empty and you filled us, when we were confused and you gave us clarity. We thank you for the people who pick us up when we are stuck, made us happy when we are sad, and show us the way back home when we are homesick. Sometimes we feel like a fish out of water, but you always throw us back. You love us, and we thank you. Amen. 

Simple Gift of Ice Cream

Original Post Wednesday, September 25, 2013 for Christ Church Cathedral's Inner Peace 

'Tis the gift to be simple,

'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down
where we ought to be,
and when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained
to bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,
to turn, turn, will be our delight
till by turning, turning we come round right.

-Shaker Song, 18^th Century

I really enjoy ice cream. Really really really enjoy ice cream. Last night, a group of friends and I celebrated a friend’s thirtieth birthday with dinner out.  After the plates were clean and the Birthday cake we brought was consumed, our server brought us the biggest ice cream Sundae I have ever seen - ten huge scoops of Crank & Boom in three different flavors, served in a gigantic bowl, with whipped cream and magic shell on top, with ten spoons. When the waiter set it down on the table, all were surprised. Everyone at the table, including our lactose-intolerant friend, got really excited. There was no question that we had already eaten cake – this ice cream was divine. We passed the bowl around and around and around feasting on delicious and wonderful creamy locally crafted ice cream. Finally, one of our friends stopped eating long enough to ask the server how the ice cream ended up at our table – he pointed to the owner back in the kitchen. We sent our thanks. 

Long after the ice cream was gone, my friends and I sat in the parking lot, joking and laughing with a sugar high. It was really good ice cream. As I drove home, I contemplated what a great night it had been and how easy it was for the owner to share her gift. It was a huge bowl, but it was not a huge gesture on behalf of the owner, and yet, it made a recent thirty-year old and her ten friends smile and giggle like third graders for hours. Enjoying the gigantic ice cream, made with some of the best ice cream, with my ten closest friends was the highlight of my week. It was communion with the joy of creation.

Driving home, I reflected on how easy it was for that owner to share with us and how her sharing with us created an infectious joy. Some of the best gifts we have to share are the simple ones.

Wednesday night’s Dr. Steve Stratton has been speaking to us about how we have the innate ability to effect and feed off of one another's emotions. By smiling a simple smile, saying kind words, or doing a nice gesture we alter the psyche of those around us. Simple gifts of our selves, shared with each other make a happy world. 

I think Jesus probably shared similar gifts with his Disciples – gifts of his presence through listening, sharing a simple meal, the gift of friendship laughing and crying over a bowl of something sweet, the gift of enjoying life and the effect that we can have on one another, the gift of sharing Sabbath and rest with friends.

And over time, I’d like to think that Jesus’ simple gifts to us have grown our joy. That my joy and celebration for life and all of God’s creation effects you and your joy and celebration for life effects me, and that all our lives together are building the body of Christ into one large bundle of thanksgiving and joy. Do something simple today, share some joy! 

James 1:17-18  Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. In fulfillment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures.

iCommunity

Original Post Wednesday, August 7, 2013 for Christ Church Cathedral's Inner Peace 

There is a lot of talk about cell phones this week. On Saturday, I had a long conversation with two young women who traveled to Belize with our youth group this summer. We had many powerful experiences in Belize - we experienced transformation of families, we heard about wonderful ministries, we participated in the building of a bathroom and in the building and rebuilding of lives. We witnessed the powerful movement of the spirit creating a Christ-like community. We spent time genuinely listening to those in our group and those locals which became part of our group. We had hours of conversation about God’s work in our lives over dinner tables and campfires. And we did it without cellphones.

Upon their return, these two ladies were struck by many things in their lives, one of which our society’s dependence upon them. Although both of these young ladies have a “no cell phone policy” at their family dinner tables, they experienced culture shock upon visiting friends. Sitting awkwardly at friends’ dinner tables, they sought to engage - only be to be met by a table full of blank stares looking down at phones.

On Sunday, the Rev. Joe Mitchell’s sermon added to our conversation. He preached on our desire as a society to constantly want the latest and greatest technology. He spoke of the good in cell phones - the ability to connect with family and friends who were far away. He also challenged the not so good - the ability to need a bigger and better device to store our data like the man who destroyed his barns to build bigger ones.

As a youth minister, I struggle with the integration of technology, especially cell-phones in the life of our community. I recognize how much smart phones can be used to God’s glory - for easy access to digital Bibles, for immediate access to the Daily Office and Sunday lectionary readings, for prayer over the phone with my youth ministry friends across the world, and for counseling kids through a rough day at school. This year, we will be using cell-phones and IPADS as we search for God’s grace in the internet when we launch our new high school Sunday School - the Unveiling. I also see how disconnected they can make us when we see them as more important as the people around us.  

Struggling with authentic ways to live our faith both in the context of community and the world around is is not a new idea. For thousands of years, Christians have struggled with balancing Christ like community and secular world. For the past weeks, we have been reading Romans within the context of our Sunday readings. Paul did not have cell phones, but he did struggle with the right uses of food in relation to faith and especially how that food effected Christ’s beloved community. Was one to follow strict Jewish rules on food, or was one to eat anything as the Gentiles did? Paul gives us these words,

“Some believe in eating anything, while the weak eat only vegetables. Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgement on those who eat; for God has welcomed them... Let all be fully convinced in their own minds.” (Romans 14: 2-5). Paul goes on to remind us that whatever it is we do, it is not to pass judgement on one another but to build up one another for the body of Christ, and to do all for the glory of God. The community has a responsibility to look after one another - if what you are eating is causing another person to stumble in their relationship with Christ, then you probably shouldn't eat it in front of them. For Paul, food was the symptom of the issue. The issue was a community who loved and lived for Christ, the food was the symptom that was being manifested. “For the kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit... Let us then pursue what makes for peace and for mutual up-building.” (Romans 14: 17, 19).

I do not know what Jesus would do with a cellphone. I imagine he would use it to keep up with those in crisis, to say daily prayers, to keep a calendar of healing appointments. But I do know, he would use it for the glory of God and for the benefit of a loving community. Cell phones are not the issue - holy living is the issue. To eat or not eat, use a cell phone or turn it off, Christ desires for us to do whatever makes us closer to his presence, both individually and corporately.

As our families and youth return to school, life gets busier and the amount of family communication through text and iCloud calendars increases. As we enter this busy time may we use our phones and our beings for the Glory of God - to love those around us and to spend time challenging each other to be what we are at the core of our being: interconnected beautiful manifestations of God’s love and community. 

"Life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who travel with us, so be quick to love and make haste to be kind." - Henri-Frédéric Amiel