Author Archives: Elea Lee

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About Elea Lee

Foster parent, adopting parent, family advocate, educator, homeschool parent

Crime in Cleveland

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When I think of the brutal tragedy at the heart of this Cleveland story I think of several other stories of law enforcement failing miserably to do their job.

In the Castro story neighbors claim they called the police. They said they reported strange situations at the house. The Cleveland police say they don’t remember those calls.

Okay. But was there anything about this Castro fellow that should have have raised alarms? Did he say, do, or not pay anything that would have warranted the intervention of the public trust?

Were these women the victims of police indifference as much as their monstrous captors? And if it can happen to them, if they were not saved by entities paid to ensure their safety, how safe are you?

Breast-…wait for it

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This was years ago. We were at a Christian summer camp and two of the camp nurses took me aside and chastised me for nursing (under a nursing shield) in sight of campers.

They said I needed to retreat to a bathroom so as not to…offend people.

I find this story itself replete with ironies, but none more than this–

The camp is connected to a chain of stores that sells inappropriate magazines at the checkout stations.

I contacted the headquarters to complain–no one should have to run a gauntlet of trashy magazines to buy milk. I kept the emailed response–

at least it was not frontal nudity.

The media rep responded.

Our society has a serious disjunct. Get coeds to tart your wings in skimpy outfits? Hurray for capitalism and feminism! See a woman discreetly nursing a child? Be offended!

God forbid we should use our breasts in public…wait for it…for the one completely life-giving thing they were designed to do.

A Voice from Heaven

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Mark 9:7-10 (NIV)
Then a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” [8] Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus. [9] As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. [10] They kept the matter to themselves, discussing what “rising from the dead” meant.

So the voice of God…

We moderns do not often get to hear God that way–out of the heavens, direct-like. We don’t need to. We have His voice in the Bible and in the wind. His power and purpose in the night sky.

I like the timing of this narrative. The disciples are already awed by Jesus. The voice of the Father is not the emotional center of this story. His injunction is a corroborating authority.

Jesus stands alone.

Through most of the Bible he mutes the physical reality of his deity to do an unbearable job.

Why this story? Why so quiet?

The road of faith is bewilderingly painful. It helps to keep our glimpse of God at the center of our minds and hearts. It helps to know who he really is. It helps a great deal to see him.

Light on the water.

Rise

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Mark 9:9-10 (NIV)
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. [10] They kept the matter to themselves, discussing what “rising from the dead” meant.

The worst feeling in the world happens a million times a day for at least a year after you lose someone you love. You wake up thinking (for just a second…bad dream?). No. Death.

Death is a terrible darkness. It robs us of comfort and love and a person who cannot be substituted for anything else.

Gone is gone and there is a whiplash agony when a beloved is gone.

The conditions of human existence for the last 6000 years have ground each of us down in the maw of grief. None have escaped it’s power or devastation.

And yet, here is Jesus speaking of rising from the dead.

Not that I hadn’t happened a couple times…there were a couple old testament resurrections…but…

What did Jesus mean?

They did not understand the impossible yet. Do you?

I don’t, but Jesus’ resurrection spills light and hope and courage all over his followers. They believed in the impossible because Jesus was the impossible.

He’s got this.

…frightened by what?

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he was so frightened he did not know what to say.

So here I am, camping out on the Mark version of Jesus’ transfiguration and I get to the last bit–the parenthetical line notes of the story.

So small, so interesting. How often do we see what happens when people are frightened by dudes talking? No fanfare, really, by description, but Peter’s reaction is well worth contemplating.

When was the last time you were awed into making a goofy suggestion? When was the last time you were struck dumb by power, majesty, splendor, or heck, just light?

Something happens in the event of the transfiguration that cannot simply be replicated through description. A man who was generally unremarkable in appearance is suddenly revealed to be who he has always really been–God Incarnate.

What awes you? For me I think of two things–the hurricanes I have experienced and the births of my children. Nothing like natural childbirth to make a body feel totally out of control and powerless. But there is more than that–there is the face. A child you have waited for is there, real before you. New life miraculous.

Paul says,

then face to face.

One day each of us will see him the way Peter, James, and John did that day. Face to face with the Absolute: who wouldn’t be afraid?

Only his own wee ones, his dearest loves.

Give Me Shelter

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Mark 9:5-6 (NIV)
Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” [6] (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

I apologize. This is so not theological, but for years and years and years I have pictured brand new outhouses when I read this verse–no actual latrines, just the fresh sheds. They even have moon-shaped cut-outs.

I am positive that was not Peter’s aim. In fact, I suspect he was thinking of the shelters people built for the feast of tabernacles–three little mini-temples.

Oh, the inevitable allure of a church building project!

Three men who are known for their homeless wandering and Peter says–let’s build something!

God is building something, but it is not built, measured, or esteemed on human barometers of success–

It is built on the shelter of God’s heart. Nothing is sure but His love. But that love is shelter enough.

Mark 9–light eternal

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Mark 9:4 (NIV)
And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

Tired. We can feel tired because we are sick, not sleeping well, malnourished. Or perhaps good things–a new baby, a triathlon.

I wonder if we do well gauging spiritual fatigue? Right now my house is “mostly clean”–I need to sweep, fold and put away clothes, unload dishes. But it is not the disaster it can be. Frequently.

Spiritual fatigue can be like the state of a house–disastrous to light mess. Either way we need to first recognize our need.

Jesus stands alone in majesty and power. Why have a pow-wow with E and M? And why not display this extraordinary moment with thousands?

Elijah was a prophet. He is there not just to talk to Jesus but to be rewarded with a glimpse of his savior.. I frequently rest in portions of Elijah’s story because despite his serious status as a hoss he grew weary and despondent. At which point God told him he was not alone and not outmanned.

And Moses represents the enduring presence of the law. Jesus tells us that he came to fulfill not abolish the law. And there is Moses–the law lives and so does the man who wrote it down.

Moses was a shepherd. He trudged through the desert with a bunch of ungrateful whiners. And this point of transfiguration is when Moses takes his first steps in the promised land.

It isn’t over until it is over. Stand in the splendor of heaven even when the clouds roll in darkness against a turbulent sky.

Believe.

Why are people so chicken?

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My daughter asks after I have waged yet another quixotic public awareness campaign about preventing abuse.

I tell her siblings this story to buttress my own vertiginous disbelief (in the chickens)….

They ran psych experiment wherein a single person was surrounded by a classroom of people “in” on the experiment.

A series of paired cards were shown, each with an objective, empirically correct answer–the longer line, for instance.

In each case the majority voted for the wrong card.

Soon the lone dissenter joined the majority.

Sure it can feel crazy to vote for the powerless, the disenfranchised, crime victims, and children.

But right is right.

And the short end of the stick stays short whether you are a weenie or just perhaps a little bit brave.

After all, the life you save could be your own.