Sundays are impossible. I drain all of my energy in the morning hours with the children and families at church. At the end of the day, I just want to have my own time to worship. I want it to be quiet and introspective. I'm not overly eager about sharing on any level.
And yet, I found myself at a service tonight with peace activists from around the globe in the seminary chapel. It's a service that revolves around the shared meal and the value of conversation. Everytime we have this service, I'm in some weird mood where the last thing that I want to do is talk. Such was the case tonight. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I was seated at the same table as my favorite professor. While I love her for all of the ways that she challenges me, there are things about her that drive me nuts. Tonight she drove me nuts.
These peace activists are gathered to talk and pray about the coming of peace. His Holiness the Dalai Lama will arrive tomorrow for this event. It's huge and wildly exciting. But, who am I to sit with a bunch of actvists and talk about peace? I was speechless and not eager to share until my professor asked me to speak about justice efforts I have advocated for here at Union. This past year, I have been active in removing Coca-Cola from the seminary campus. She wanted me to talk about it. I don't know what to say. I still don't know what to say. It's about solidarity and understanding the amazing connections of human relationships, but peace advocates don't need to hear that from me. Honestly. I just want to quietly worship... and maybe sing a little bit.