Food in the Balance

Culinary Success, Literary Failure

revpaulucc — Sun, 25 Jan 2009 01:15:00 +0000

I hate admitting defeat, but I’m going to do it.

Back in August, shortly after I set up this blog, I created a companion blog, Food in the Balance, that was going to document my culinary adventures. One of my personal reasons for wanting to blog about food was so that I could keep a record of my cooking successes and failures. The reality turned out differently.

Despite my best intentions to be a creative cook, I quickly realized that only a small percentage of my cooking was really blog-worthy. After all, while the first post about making latkes in my new B I G skillet may be newsworthy, another post a couple weeks later about a repeat performance isn’t really that interesting. Beyond the problem of repeat meals not being exciting to write about, I found that a lot of my best cooking went unblogged because it was happening when my life was just too busy to slow down and write. Trust me, though, you would have loved the post about the cochinita pibil that I cooked and how I then used the leftovers to make Cuban sandwiches and, ultimately, pozole rojo, that I fed to my family on Christmas Eve, if only I had slowed down enough to write it.

So, here I am, looking back over the whopping 15 posts that I have made, and realizing that I bit off more than I could chew when I set up a food-specific blog. I am, therefore, officially announcing the demise of Food in the Balance. In the next few days, I will transfer all of the posts from that blog to this one. I will continue to write about food and cooking from time to time in this blog. Maybe, I’ll even write about this past Thursday’s baked mahi-mahi with tomato-habañero salsa that I served with sautéed dandelion greens and rice pilaf. It was REALLY good!

Martin Luther King, Barack Obama and a White Southern Boy’s Journey through Race

revpaulucc — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 18:49:00 +0000

I grew up in rural Virginia in the days after Jim Crow was officially dead. Little did I know that the body was still warm.

Back then, the Monday following January 15 was celebrated as “Lee-Jackson Day” in honor of the Confederate generals Robert E. Lee and “Stonewall” Jackson. In 1983, that was expanded to become “Lee-Jackson-King Day,” an ironic combination that pleased neither the progressives who wanted to celebrate Dr. King’s legacy nor the old-line conservatives who believed that the South would rise again and who would joke, “I’ve got nothing against black people. I think everybody should own one.”

My family attended a Southern Baptist church where the members had helped their former slaves to start their own church following the Civil War. Whether that help was out of altruism or out of a desire for a racially segregated church depended on who told the story but, regardless of how the story was told, the congregation remained lily white.

The schools were integrated, at least technically, but the reality was that students were put into academic tracks and, in my advanced classes, there were only a couple African American students. I don’t recall any Hispanic students and the only Asians in the school were exchange students. Race was, quite literally, a black and white issue.

My parents took a more progressive view of race, teaching my brother and me that people of all races were equal. The social reality, however, was that black and white people lived lives that were essentially separate.

When I went to college at Virginia Commonwealth University, my horizons rapidly expanded. As a state university in an urban center, VCU had an incredibly diverse student body and I found myself in classes and in social settings with people who challenged me to view issues of race in new ways.

While volunteering at the Hillside Baptist Center in the Hillside Court housing projects in Richmond’s southside, I really began to understand how my faith called me to work for racial justice. I was guided in this learning process by two wise mentors: the center’s directors, the Rev. Valerie Carter and Gracie Kirkpatrick.

One of my earliest experiences at Hillside was with a young girl, Aisha, who was attending an after-school tutoring program. She was having trouble with her math homework and I sat down next to her and asked if I could help her. She refused and, when I asked why she didn’t want me to help her, her answer was, “because your’re white.” It took several minutes of talking with her and a bit of deception — I told her that I wasn’t white and put my hand down on a piece of white paper to prove it — before she would finally let me help her.

Before long, Aisha learned to trust me and, during my four years at the center, I learned firsthand the social and economic realities of racism in the United States and why Aisha would have perceived me as an enemy, even though I was there to help her. I came to understand the concept of white privilege and quickly saw that I was able to speak with police officers, apartment managers, and medical professionals and find myself listened to, while the African Americans with whom I worked often found themselves stonewalled by these same people. Recognizing the unfair, though very real, advantages that my race conferred upon me, I determined to use whatever advantage I had to work for justice for all people.

In seminary, I spent a summer as an intern with the Southern Baptist Home Mission Board, working in Elyria, Ohio, with the board’s Black Church Extension. (Why the SBC felt that African American churches needed to be appended onto the work of their mission board rather than simply included is another discussion.) That summer was a real eye-opener, as I experienced a more insidious side of the African American experience than I had in the projects in Richmond.

One afternoon that summer, I found myself at a street fair being run by the Nation of Islam, where actor Dick Gregory was speaking. Gregory, who certainly had more than enough proven incidents of racism that he could have discussed, held forth for quite a while on a variety of alleged conspiracies, including his assertion that the U.S. government intentionally spread AIDS in the black community. I listened as he whipped the crowd into near hysteria with a recitation of imaginary evils and I lamented how he drew uncrossable lines between the evil whites and the blacks that they victimized instead of building bridges that we could all cross to a better future. Dr. King, with his desire to draw us all together regardless of race, would have wept.

Since then, due to theological, social and political reasons, I have left the Southern Baptists and become a United Church of Christ pastor. In the UCC, I have enjoyed being part of a multi-racial, multi-cultural denomination that sees struggle for racial justice as one of the central callings of the church. I have been able to travel to Africa with the Freedom Schooner Amistad. I have had the opportunity meet civil rights giants like the Rev. Andrew Young. I was present to listen to a certain freshman Senator from Illinois when he addressed the UCC’s General Synod in the summer of 2007, talking about the relationship between faith and politics (video here and audio here).

Today, as we officially celebrate what would have been the 80th birthday of Dr. King and as we prepare to inaugurate Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States, the excitement is palpable. As the first African American President of the United States, Obama is burdened with much more than is fair to expect of any one person. For so many, President Obama is the embodiment of generations of longing and it is not uncommon to hear people speak of him with almost messianic expectation — and that’s what has me worried, not because I fear that Obama will not do a good job, but because I fear that our expectations may be higher than what anyone could achieve.

I’m worried that we’ll forget that Barack Obama is just a man, with all of the limitations and failings common to every human being. As a president, he’ll do things with which we disagree. He’ll let us down. He’ll stumble. And that’s just fine.

We can’t expect him to bring about world peace. We can’t expect him to fix the economic problems that have been so long in the making. We can’t expect him to make racism a thing of the past. Those tasks are all bigger than anything that any one person can accomplish, even if they do happen to the the President of the United States.

What we can do is to offer our prayers for him, that God will bless him and grant him wisdom to lead our troubled nation through difficult times. What we can do is to take responsibility and be active participants in the political process, contacting our elected officials and letting them know what is important to us. What we can do is to reach across lines of race, to build relationships with those who are different from ourselves, to transform our society one relationship at a time. It is only then that we’ll be able to arrive in that promised land of which Dr. King spoke back in the days before I was born.

Theology in the NY Times!

revpaulucc — Fri, 09 Jan 2009 15:12:00 +0000

It has been quite a while since I posted anything here on my blog, but I trust that you’ll forgive me. After all, you’ve all been enjoying your various and sundry holiday celebrations. Perhaps, you’ve even taken some time off to go cross-country skiing in the Berkshires like my family did last week. At any rate, I’m certain that you haven’t been slowing down to read blogs. You haven’t, right?

Well, now that you’re back, taking the time to read my blog, allow me to offer you a tasty tidbit that I came across this morning on the New York Times’ website : an editorial by Prof. Stanley Fish of Florida International University, entitled Roland Burris and St. Augustine. Fish writes, concerning the issue of the Burris nomination being “tainted” by Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich’s attempted sale of Barack Obama’s former Senate seat,

This last question is not new. It was debated in the 4th and 5th centuries in the context of what is known as the Donatist controversy. This debate was about the status of churchmen who had cooperated with the emperor Diocletian during the period when he was actively persecuting Christians. The Donatists argued that those who had betrayed their faith under pressure and then returned to the fold when the persecutions were over had lost the authority to perform their priestly offices, including the offices of administering the sacraments and making ecclesiastical appointments. In their view, priestly authority was a function of personal virtue, and when a new bishop was consecrated by someone they considered tainted, they rejected him and consecrated another.

In opposition, St. Augustine (rejecting the position that the church should be made up only of saints) contended that priestly authority derived from the institution of the Church and ultimately from its head, Jesus Christ. Whatever infirmities a man may have (and as fallen creatures, Augustine observes, we all have them) are submerged in the office he holds. It is the office that speaks, appoints and consecrates. Its legitimacy does not vary with personal qualities of the imperfect human being who is the temporary custodian of a power that at once exceeds and transforms him. (Read the entire editorial here.)

I have to admit that I don’t have the answer to Mr. Burris’ problem. On the one hand, he WAS appointed by the Governor of the State of Illinois, who, despite obvious malfeasance and the likelihood of impeachment, is still serving as the governor and has not, at least not yet, been convicted of anything. In the United States, where people are innocent until proven guilty, it seems that Gov. Blagojevich would have the power to appoint a replacement Senator, at least until that power has been taken from him by due process of law.

On the other hand, it seems to me that anyone accepting a nomination from Gov. Blagojevich would be, shall we say, “shortsighted.” By accepting the governor’s nomination, Burris is tying himself to Blagojevich’s scandal and, quite probably, damaging his chances for being elected by the people of Illinois in two years’ time. Of course, there’s the further question of whether Burris would have a chance of being appointed by the Illinois legislature, should he withdraw from his status as Senator Designate. I certainly don’t envy Mr. Burris as he stands between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

At any rate, it isn’t every day that one reads about the Donatists or St. Augustine in the New York Times. I was delighted to see Prof. Fish examine the question of the Burris nomination through a theological lens, particularly since political decisions are discussed in terms of patriotism or partisanship. Fish’s discussion of the larger issue of authority and office is just one more example of ways that having a solid foundation in theology can help us to frame other issues.

Note: Between writing this post and actually getting it posted, the Illinois Supreme Court has ruled that Burris’ Senate appointment is valid and the Illinois House of Representatives has voted to impeach Gov. Blagojevich by a 114 to 1 vote.

The Perfect Car

revpaulucc — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 15:43:00 +0000

For a good many years (since 2000, to be precise) I’ve been driving the green, Subaru Legacy Outback wagon pictured below.

The Outback is, so far as I can tell, nature’s most perfect vehicle. It is big enough to haul instruments and the sound system for Boys in Hats concerts or all the gear my family takes camping. It is strong enough to pull my little sailboat. It has a roof-rack that can carry our canoe and kayak. On top of all of this, it still gets pretty good gas mileage, though I’d love to see Subaru come out with a hybrid model. Kimberly and I have loved this car. I’ve rather enjoyed having a car and a son who are the same model year (1996) and have joked about teaching Ian to drive in this car.

Unfortunately, cars, unlike people, do not improve with age. This past month, “the Roo” started having problems and, on a trip to Boston, overheated. A local mechanic got me back on the road in no time, but I was worried. When I got home, I put the car in the shop and Jeremy, my mechanic at Oradell Citgo, looked me in the eye and, with somber visage, intoned the words I had been dreading. It was time to replace my car.

So, the search for a new vehicle began. I’ve always been a bit obsessive about making choices. Back when we used to go to the video store to rent videotapes (remember doing that??) I used to feel the need to look at just about every box before picking something. Of course, the search for a new vehicle would be equally arduous.

Over Thanksgiving, when we drove to Connecticut, I looked at every vehicle we passed, wondering if it might be the perfect replacement. The Toyota Prius was too small. The Chevy Suburban was too big. The Volvo XC70 wagon was about the right size, and had all wheel drive — I figure that, as a pastor, I need to be able to go out in just about any weather — but was out of our price range. I went to the library and checked out several issues of Consumer Report magazine (overdue fine: $2.70) to see what “the experts” had to say. Eventually, my mind settled on two possibilities: the Honda CR-V and (surprise) a Subaru Outback. During all of this, Kimberly was very patient with me.

I went to the local Honda dealership and test-drove a CR-V, which I liked fairly well, but I knew that Kimberly would have issues with its height, as she dislikes having to climb up into vehicles. That settled, it was time to start looking for the right Subaru. After checking out several dealerships, we found the right car at Bill Kolb Subaru in Orangeburg, NY, where Ross Kelter sold us a silver and gray 2005 Outback. (If you find yourself going there, tell Ross that I sent you. There’s money it it for me…)

We love out new Subaru. It has all the features of our old one, plus all of the technological advances that came along in the nine years between 1996 and 2005. Ian is particularly excited that the car has what Garrison Keillor likes to call “butt warmers” and that the back seat has headrests. Kimberly is really pleased that the car is almost exactly like our old one and feels comfortable and familiar, though I’m sure she would have been happier if it had been green. I’m happy that we’ve got a car that is versatile, reliable and should last us for a good many years, though I’m already wondering what the 2016 model Subarus will look like.

A Quiet Week in Lake Wobegone

revpaulucc — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 19:41:00 +0000

After all the running around of recent weeks, this past week has been blessedly quiet. The big adventure was Saturday’s trip into Manhattan to attend a live broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion at the Town Hall Theater on West 43rd Street. Wherever we’ve lived, my family has been listening to the Public Radio International program on our National Public Radio affiliate (currently WNYC) and we’ve always wanted to go and see the production live. This year, we decided to surprise Ian with tickets.

On Saturday, we went into the city early and wandered around, stopping for hotdogs at Gray’s Papaya at 37th St. and 8th Ave., then heading over to the New York Public Library on 5th Ave., where we had hoped to see the stuffed animals that belonged to Christopher Milne, which became the famous children’s book characters: Winnie the Pooh, Eyore, Kanga, Tigger and Piglet.

This turned out to be something of a mistake as it seemed that everyone else in the world had the same plans, so we decided to come back another day. Ian posed atop one of the iconic marble lions, then we made our way to Bryant Park, where we watched the ice skaters for a bit and bought Ian a new winter hat at one of the holiday shops that specialized in hand-kint wool hats made in Tibet. Then, with the sun setting, it was time to make our way to the theater for the 5:45 show.

Garrison Keillor always brings together an eclectic mix of performers and Saturday’s show featured fantastic performances by jazz vocalist Inga Swearingen, Metopolitan Opera tenor Raúl Melo, and crooner Michael Feinstein. (Just in case anyone out there cares, I wouldn’t mind having one of Inga Swearingen’s CDs show up in my Christmas stocking this year.)

Kimberly, Ian and I were particularly tickled to get to watch Fred Newman as he did the sound effects for the program. It isn’t every day that one has the opportunity to listen and watch as a grown man creates the audio-illusion of a man juggling a hot toaster, a housecat and an alarm clock while jumping on a pogo stick and playing trumpet. Honestly, though, we all thought that it was pretty cool that Newman actually got paid to break real dishes, just for the sound effects.

I’ve often said that Garrison Keillor is one of the best preachers in America, even though most people think of him simply as an entertainer. He has a knack for telling stories that illustrate a point, without most people realizing that they’ve even been taught anything. Over the years, I have noticed that his “News from Lake Wobegone” segment more often than not relates to the lectionary readings for the week. This past week, he touched (ever so lightly) on Advent as a season of waiting and preparation, with a message of “keep up, keep awake, keep lively,” which ended up with Raúl Melo singing Gesu Bambino, which has always been one of my favorite pieces of Christmas music. What a great evening it was!

And that’s the news from where the woman is strong, the man is good looking and the kid is above average.

Restaurant review: Guadalupe la Poblanita

revpaulucc — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 01:06:00 +0000

On a recent trip through Connecticut, I specially timed my journey so I could stop for lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant: Guadalupe la Poblanita, 136 Chapel Street, New Haven, CT 06513. My family started eating at Guadalupe la Poblanita a dozen years ago, when we moved to Hamden, CT. At that time, the restaurant was located in a cramped little building with only about a half-dozen fast-food-restaurant tables, sandwiched between an auto junkyard and an ambulance barn on Middletown Avenue. All parking was on the street or, more often, on the sidewalk.

We loved the place immediately! My family were just about the only Anglos we ever saw there. The food was authentic Pueblan cuisine and everything was homemade, fresh and delicious. The homemade tortillas and guacamole were particularly good. Our favorite entrees quickly became, for Kimberly, the vegetable chile relleno and, for me the carne enchilada. Often, we would order extra tostadas or tamales or even just extra tortillas, which left us a little more than pleasantly full, but which were well worth the extra effort of having to get wheeled out to the curb. Kimberly and I could both eat for less than $20 and our infant son got all-he-could-eat rice and beans for free. Teresa, Guadalupe’s daughter, waited tables and became like family to us and, though service was anything but “brisk,” was always a delight.

Since my family moved away from Connecticut several years ago, Guadalupe has moved her restaurant twice, each time to a nicer location. The current (and, I would suspect, final) location is in a restaurant with plenty of space, a bar, and even a dance floor, where people could (and I expect do) have all sorts of receptions. There’s ample parking (complete with security cameras). Everything is new and improved, except for the food, which could never be improved, and the decor, which still has plenty of Corona and Negro Modelo advertisements, and handwritten signs saying things like “No Shirt, Shoes or Pets Allowed.” Guadalupe still uses the same menus that she used in the old place, complete with my favorite quote from Miss Piggy: “Never eat more than you can lift.”

When I stopped in for lunch last week, I had the same problem I always do at Guadalupe’s: I wanted to ignore Miss Piggy’s advice. Reason reasserted itself, however, and I selected the tostadas, one beef and one spicy pork, along with rice and beans. Teresa was buzzing around in the background and stopped by my table to visit for a while. Guadalupe popped out of the kitchen a couple times, but the waitress was a woman I had not previously met. She was very attentive, though she seemed somwhat surprised when I asked for jalapeño peppers with my meal, but quickly brought me some.

When the tostadas arrived, they were everything I had hoped for. The tortillas were crisp, with a delightful, nutty flavor, that I have found nowhere else (and which I expect may be due to the use of real manteca for frying). The toppings were perfect, as always. The beef, which I expect is flank steak, had its usual robust flavor and the spices on the pork (which is the same pork Guadalupe serves as carne enchilada) was delightfully spicy. My server brought me plenty of guacamole, pico de gallo and homemade salsa, which made things even better. Since it was lunch time and I still had some driving to do, a tamarind flavored Jarritos soda was the perfect accompaniment to the meal.

I’m not sure when I’m going to be in New Haven next, but you can be sure that I’ll definitely make a point of stopping back and enjoying some of the best Mexican food I’ve ever eaten.

On the Road Again… or should that be "still?"

revpaulucc — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 15:41:00 +0000

I’ve been traveling a lot, lately. Actually, that’s my reason for not having written anything here for the last couple weeks. It all started with a trip to Catonsville, MD, for a Central Atlantic Conference Board of Directors meeting. Almost immediately upon my return, I was off to Boston, where I visited my friend Eliza Garfield, and celebrated her birthday with her.

As a dedicated boat-geek, I had always wanted to visit “Old Ironsides,” the U.S.S. Constitution, so I made a side trip to the Charlestown Navy Yard to visit the oldest commissioned warship afloat. (H.M.S. Victory, Lord Nelson’s flagship at the battle of Trafalgar, is older, but is in permanent drydock.)

When I went to visit the historic 44-gun frigate, I learned that “Connie” is in the middle of a major restoration project. She has been almost completely downrigged, with nothing left in her but the lower masts. All of her guns had been removed from the spar deck and the vessel had been roofed over to protect her during the replacement of her deck timbers. “Come back in two years,” said the petty officer who welcomed me aboard.

Once aboard, having passed through airport-type security, I was free to wander around the spar deck for a few minutes before another petty officer called everyone together for the below-decks tour. After a quick introduction, we went below to the gun deck, where our guide — a navy cook — told us about the history of the vessel and discussed the food that would have been served aboard Constitution in 1787, when she was first launched: Weevily biscuits, salt “horse”, dried peas, “lively” water (with all kinds of stuff growing in it), and, of course, the daily ration of grog which, in the U.S. Navy, was generally made with whiskey rather than rum. Looking aft, we could peek into the captain’s cabin.

Moving down to the berth deck, I was one of the few who could stand up straight, with the overhead at almost exactly 5’6″. Here, we were able to see hammocks slung as the enlisted men’s would have been and we were also able to move aft and take a peek into the officers’ wardroom. The tour wasn’t able to go into the orlop, though I would have loved to. Afterwards, I spent a few minutes talking with the guide and hearing about how Constellation‘s crew actually has to train aboard the U.S.C.G. barque Eagle and aboard other A.S.T.A. training vessels, since the navy doesn’t have any fully operational sailing vessels. Similarly, he told me, Constellation sometimes hosts sail training events, which leads me to wonder if there might be some way I could work my way aboard for a future event, possibly even showing some navy tar the right way to do things.

After a drive home, complete with car problems, it was time to turn right around and go back to Connecticut with my family to celebrate Thanksgiving. As we have for the last many years, we spent the holiday celebrating with Eric Anderson’s family in Millbury, Massachussets, where his stepmother is pastor of the UCC church. I’m pleased that neither Kimberly nor I brought home the loser’s trophy (yes, there’s an actual loser’s trophy) from the Anderson Family Thanksgiving Day Croquet Tournament.

We’ve been home since Sunday night, but things haven’t slowed down at all. I’ve been meeting up with friends and am even getting together with my pastor to try and help him put together a confirmation program for the coming year. Tomorrow, I’m teaching my fencing class and the next day, I think, will be Christmas. At least it seems that way.

Cajun Catfish Sashimi

revpaulucc — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 19:15:00 +0000

I love Japanese food. I grew up with teriyaki steak being one of my favorite treats. Later, I became a huge fan of sushi and sashimi.

Of course, there are some kinds of fish that I like better than others. I love tekka (tuna) raw, but I prefer my salmon well-done. This past week, I prepared catfish sashimi for my family, except that it wasn’t supposed to be catfish sashimi. It was really just an exceedingly unfortunate meal.

I was setting out to make blackened catfish, which is quite nice when it works out properly. Because of the large amount of smoke that is produced in cooking the fish at such high heat, I typically set up the Coleman two-burner propane camping stove and do the cooking outside. This is the stove that I set up every Christmas when I make corn fritters. I’ve used it to make Navajo fry bread and beignets. It is a great piece of equipment and it probably gets used more just outside our kitchen door than it ever does on actual camping trips.

The other night, though, was a problem. I was planning on making six pieces of fish, which meant that I needed to use my BIG SKILLET. Unfortunately, it was one of the first cold nights of the season, so the skillet, even with the burner cranked up to high, didn’t manage to get even close to as hot as it should have gotten. To make matters worse, it is getting dark a lot earlier than I’m used to planning for and we don’t have a very good light on our side porch. All of this made for a perfect storm of problems and I ended up following my recipe but the end result was undercooked fish. Yuck. Fortunately, the microwave worked well enough to finish cooking the fish in just a couple minutes, but the overall effect was disappointing.

It should have been wonderful. In the past, it has been. But I’ve learned my lesson: the superskillet has too much surface area to keep hot on a cold night. Next time, I’ll cook the fish in two batches in a smaller skillet.

Here’s the recipe I used. If you follow it (indoors, with a good exhaust fan, or outdoors on a warmer evening or with a smaller skillet), I guarantee a great meal.

Blackened Catfish
(also good with Grouper, Snapper or Redfish)

2 lbs catfish

1/2 lb unsalted butter

1/4 c lemon juice

1 T crushed red pepper flakes

1 T thyme

1 T basil

1 T black pepper

Combine all ingredients except fish and heat over low heat for 10 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to sit until cool.

Dip fish in butter mixture and refrigerate fish for one hour. Reserve remaining butter mixture.

If cooking indoors, remove batteries from your smoke detectors. Seriously. Don’t forget to put them back in when you’re done cooking.

Place dry cast iron skillet over high heat for 5 minutes, until skillet is very hot, nearly smoking. Place fish in skillet and cook for 2 minutes per side. (There will be lots of smoke.)

Remove fish to a platter and put remaining butter mixture in skillet and cook for a minute or so, until the butter browns. Serve fish with a drizzle of browned butter and spices.

A proud fencing dad

revpaulucc — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 18:22:00 +0000

My son, Ian, has been fencing since he was five years old, when he begged me to start a class for him at the Pocono Family YMCA in Stroudsburg, PA. I had only been fencing for a year or so and my instructor, Bernd Weishaupt, helped me start a kinderfencing program where Ian would be able to learn the fine art of swashbuckling.

When we moved to New Jersey, Ian and I started fencing with the Modified Academy of Fencing. This has been a great experience for both of us. I have taken courses in sabre fencing and Ian has really grown a lot as a foil fencer. This fall, I started teaching again, working with the beginning foil program on Thursday nights.

Over the last few years, one of the problems that Ian and I have had is that the MAF fencing tournaments have always been scheduled on days that we couldn’t participate. This year, though, things were different and both Ian and I were able to participate in foil competitions this past spring.

This past Sunday evening, MAF held its annual awards dinner and Ian and I were present to celebrate his success in the tournament, where he took first place in his age group. In addition to receiving a gold medal at the banquet, Ian also was presented with the Excalibur award, which goes to fencers who were undefeated in the entire competition.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any photos to show now, but I should be getting some from Julie Kimmel, the club photographer, soon. Check back to see Ian receiving his awards (and a picture of me receiving the sportsmanship award, too).

Proposition 8 and Rainbow Flags

revpaulucc — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 04:00:00 +0000

This monring, I received an email from a reporter from The Town News, asking about my take on the recent anti-gay state constitutional amendments passed last Tuesday and about churches flying the rainbow flag at half-mast in response.

Here is my response to her question:

While churches, as 501(c)(3) non-profit organizations, are not allowed to endorse political candidates, it has long been recongnized that it is entirely appropriate for churches to engage in the political process around issues, with the civil rights movement being a classic example.

The United Church of Christ has repeatedly voiced its support of the right of same-sex couples to marry, most explicitly at our General Synod in 2005 with the resolution In Support of Equal Marriage Rights for All. It is important, however, to point out that General Synod speaks to our congregations, not for our congregations. Other denominations, such as the Episcopal Church and the Metropolitan Community Church, also have long histories of supporting equal rights for LGBT people. There are also strong equality movements within other mainline Protestant churches, such as the Presbyterian Church (USA), the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, the Reformed Church of America, and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and many others.

Those of us who see the right to marry as a basic human right are, of course, disappointed by last Tuesday’s ballot initiatives that have denied that right to same-sex couples. I am particularly disappointed by the passage California’s Proposition 8, which is the first time that a state has revoked the rights of its citizens after those rights had already been recognized.

Despite the passage of the anti-gay ballot initiatives, I am encouraged by the exit polls, which show that those who favored eliminating the right to marriage were, overwhelmingly, aged 65 and older, while those who supported the right for all people to marry were overwhelmingly younger voters. Additionally, Proposition 8 passed by a smaller margin than did Proposition 22 (California’s original anti-gay-marriage proposition that passed in 2000 and was overturned by the California Supreme Court). This gives me hope that, with the passage of only a short period of time, intolerance based on sexual orientation will no longer be socially acceptable and that these discriminatory ballot initiatives will be reversed.

While saddened by the states that have codified discrimination, I am pleased about the recent decision of the Connecticut State Supreme Court to recognize the right of same-sex couples to marry and the decision of Connecticut’s voters to reject attempts to amend their state constitution to deny equal marriage rights to same-sex couples.

Flying rainbow flags at half-mast is a powerful symbol of sorrow over the discrimination that was written into law last Tuesday. I am always pleased to see churches that fly the rainbow flag as a visible symbol of the inclusion of all people in the church and I am hopeful that churches that have just started to fly the rainbow flag will continue to do so. While we mourn for a season, I look forward to the flags flying proudly at the top of their staves as churches continue speak out for justice and equality for all people.

In addition to my answer, I’d like to refer you to the pastoral letter from the UCC’s Wider Church Ministries, the full-page ad that the UCC ran in three of California’s largest gay community publications and an article about the ad in United Church News.