On the Other Hand...

The other day I was feeling a little salty about how reserved I've become when it comes to sharing my opinions. I think part of it is maturity - at least I'd like to believe that being more sensitive to context and audience is a sign of maturity. And then part of it is anxiety. It no longer appeals to me that I can write something on the internet and have no idea who will read it - or more importantly, how they will read it. Like, if I share my convictions about some issue here, will the assumption be that I use the bully pulpit at church about that same issue? Last fall I joined the "Clergy for Obama" group on Facebook. I immediately received a message from a friend's husband that contained one line: "I hope you are not preaching to your congregation to vote for Mr. Obama." Um, no. I am exercising my right to have my political convictions. As clergy, I have just as much right as a teacher or lawyer or longshoreman to share those convictions. I would never in a million years cross the line and campaign for a politician at church or on behalf of my church. I wouldn't touch that line with a ten foot pole. But Joe Shmo who passes through here does not know that. Perhaps it's a problem that I even care what Joe Shmo thinks. It just feels like the internet contains an infinite number of Shmos. And that's on top of the people I know and love who I have no intention of offending.

But that isn't what I intended to write about tonight. To briefly recap the excessively long intro to the point: Katherine is less likely to climb on the soapbox because of maturity (maybe) and anxiety (definitely). And the third and possibly biggest piece is contained in the first line of this post: "my domestic side has been having a field day." Like it or not, I seem to be way more into raising Juliette and baking scones and plotting my first patchwork quilt than talking politics these days. I care about health care - just ask Elizabeth, who I recently subjected to a great deal of capital letters in an email exchange (and no, I wasn't yelling at her, more like yelling at the RIDICULOUSLY BROKEN HEALTH CARE SYSTEM). I'm just fitting my health care rants in between well-baby appointments at the pediatrician. There's a parallel at church; I'm deeply engaged in the work of caring for my congregation. It doesn't involve process theology (although it does involve butting up against the RIDICULOUSLY BROKEN HEALTH CARE SYSTEM). My life is lived in domestic and congregational spheres right now. And while I miss the rush of arguing about politics and theology, I have bread to bake (and bless and break).

But I did manage to slip in a few opinions in this post, didn't I?

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