Julie Clawson

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Category: Personal

Emergent Gathering Reflections

Posted on October 9, 2007July 9, 2025
That’s where I was all last week – at the Lifeway Glorieta Conference Center situated in the mountains outside of Santa Fe. As strange as it is to attend an Emergent event at a Southern Baptist camp, it does make for a stunning setting. Emma enjoying pointing out the “real mountains” (a opposed to the sand mountains we climbed in Michigan). In all she had a wonderful time there which is a good thing since we were really unsure how doing this event as a family would work. This Gathering was the first Emergent event that I have done in “mommy mode” which of course created a new dynamic for me, but I discovered that it is actually doable. Having Emma there meant we both took a very relaxed approach to the event. There was no possibility of us making every workshop or late night option, so we just stepped back and enjoyed the community where we could. So instead of stressing out about being places and becoming overwhelmed with information, we ended up having fantastic conversations wherever we were at. Playing with kids at the playground or letting Emma collect rocks on the hill were all opportunities to connect with people. And I loved that most conversations jumped straight to deeper issues and richer topics. I think everyone there was desperate for a community, a tribe as some are calling it, where those conversations are possible and so we took advantage of them at every moment.

A few random highlights from the week for me –

    • – Like I mentioned before, attending a discussion of holistic emerging parenting. I am drawn to alternative parenting ideas and generally don’t hold to the typical American style of parenting, but I’ve had a very hard time finding people to discuss those ideas with, much less learn from their experiences. The few I’ve found have not been involved in Christianity. So I’ve longed for other Christians to talk to who share my emerging journey and are exploring more holistic parenting ideas. Ideas that wrestle with spiritual formation of children outside of the assumed model of Sunday School or AWANA. Parents that see their children as people to be respected instead of pawns to be controlled. Parents who don’t hit or scream at their children on principle (and definitely don’t justify such things with the Bible). It was very refreshing to be in a group that cared about such things (men and women equally btw). We only had a short time at the Gathering to discuss such ideas, but I am in the process of creating an Emerging Parents blog to help continue that discussion.

    • – Hosting an Emerging women lunch where we got to hear each other’s stories. Women are coming to this emerging discussion from such a wide variety of backgrounds and it is helpful to hear about those journeys. We heard the stories of pain, of questioning, of anger, and of hope. As always those discussions developed into longer conversations about the whole “women in Emergent” issue. I’ll post more about those over at the Emerging Women blog later this week.
    • – Being involved in discussions about the future of Emergent Village and the role it will play. Will it be a place for newcomers to come with their pain and questions to work through new ideas or will it be pushing forward in developing practice and theology in our postmodern world? Mike has blogged about this issue here.
    • – Finally figuring out who/what The Cobalt Season is and realizing that their music is amazing (go buy their CD’s right now). And it was also amusing to discover the um, interesting, relationship Ryan Sharp has to my brother…

    • – Taking Emma into Santa Fe and trying to teach her how to walk the labyrinth at the Cathedral. She made it through one circuit and the said “I just run,” and ran to the middle. There’s got to be some spiritual analogy in there somewhere…
    • – Hanging out with friends new and old. Finally meeting some online faces. And knowing that yes, there are people in this whole emerging community that I really can connect with and wishing we weren’t scattered across the country.
  • – New Mexican food. Enough said.

And if you want to see some really good pictures from the Gathering click here.

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Emergent Gathering

Posted on October 3, 2007July 9, 2025

Hi all. I’m in New Mexico at the Emergent Gathering having a fantastic time. I just went to a discussion on emerging holistic parenting which is something I’ve longed to discuss with other like-minded Christians for awhile now. So it was good. I’ll post details when I get back. But the blog will be slow the next few days as I have fun.

 

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My Day Yesterday…

Posted on September 28, 2007July 9, 2025

Yesterday was one of those days.

I found out rather last minute that I had space at a huge local craft fair that I was on the alternate list for. (Yes in my other life I make and sell raggy quilts). So we set up our tent and wares at the Sandwich Fairgrounds and I tried to sell my quilts to the 6000+ people that came through. The day turned instead to a “all things conspire against us” sort of day. To start with from about 6AM to noon it was FREEZING. I was in a skirt, sandals, and short sleeves and was miserable. Then right around noon, the sun came, the temperature rose about 40 degrees and we baked in the sun (while being swarmed by flies). So not what weather.com predicted.

And then I discovered (again) why I don’t do rural craft fairs. It is a different world once one leaves the suburbs. The fashions and hairstyles are like a timewarp back to the early 1990s. You meet the fundamentalist Christians too. My partner, who sells handpainted plates with scripture on them, got an earful from a lady who praised her for using the KJV and not The Message. Apparently The Message is evil because “God doesn’t paraphrase” and the KJV is like the Holy Spirit and is gentle with our souls. Um, sure, whatever. I just smile and nod. My issue is that the shoppers were more likely to be stay-at-home moms (or grandmas) with generous freetime on their hands (as opposed to the artificially frazzled suburban moms we generally see at these things). That freetime issue means less sales for us. Instead of people coming by our booth and actually say buying one of my quilts, I had a steady stream of women coming by my booth, crowding around my display, and giving each other sewing lessons on how to make that type of quilt. I’ve taught such classes before (for a fee) and I paid to have a booth at the fair so I could sell my stuff not so people could just copy my ideas. I usually get a handful of people doing that at any show, but at the rural shows it is a steady stream. So while, there is nothing wrong with rural areas or the people who live there, it just really isn’t a good market for our stuff. Hence my need to capitalize on the suburban lifestyle (and yes I am fully aware of the irony of that statement).

Anyway, then I was supposed to pack up from the fair and drive out to the up/rooted panel discussion with Spencer Burke, Alan Hirsh and others. It’s a good hour and a half drive up to Park Ridge when the traffic is normal. Well traffic was horrible. It took me close to 45 minutes to get from Sandwich to Yorkville – a drive that should take 10-15 minutes tops. There was no way I was making it to up/rooted before the whole thing was nearly over. So I picked Emma up from the babysitters and went home having had a rather frustrating day. Just thought I’d share.

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Random Comments

Posted on September 24, 2007July 9, 2025

After talking about types of churches in my last post, I thought I should mention that I have a new article up at the Theolog Blog about community churches.

And I have to say that I am honestly trying not to say too much about the latest load of crap issued from Mark Driscoll. I do have to say that I find it amusing that a lot more people are pissed off with him now that he is attacking the big boys and not just women. But what can you expect…

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Racism in my Life

Posted on September 9, 2007July 9, 2025

I was having a discussion with friends recently about racism and our personal experiences with understanding race issues. All of us were white and everyone but me grew up in neighborhoods that were completely white as well. They all remembered the first time a non-white person moved into their neighborhood. I though grew up in Dallas where the majority of my classmates and most of my teachers were African-American. I then moved to Austin when I was 12 and encountered an even larger ethnic mix. We lived in a mostly Jewish neighborhood, but I had friends who were Korean, Russian, Egyptian, Brazilian, Indian, Mexican, and Iranian. The dividing lines in Austin were less racial and more economic and educational. Most of my friends had parents involved either with the University of Texas or in the lucrative computer technology boom. So I didn’t think much about racism until I had to deal with it head on in 8th grade.

Austin spent the majority of the 80’s and 90’s imposing forced integration on its school system. Kids from one sort of ethnic neighborhood were bused across town to go to school in neighborhoods that were generally of a different racial mix. So for Jr. High I got to catch the bus at 6AM to go to school in East Austin. My school also happened to be the Math and Science Academy to which I applied and joined. Those of us in the academy represented just about every race and nationality, but the kids in the regular classes who were from the local neighborhoods around the school were almost exclusively African-American. And these were very poor rough neighborhoods. Riding the bus through them we would frequently see drug deals taking place and the boys on the bus (Jr. High remember) would toss nickels to the prostitutes on the streets. It goes without saying there there was a lot of tension between the local students and the academy students. Teachers did their best to ignore it and never got involved in inter-racial fights – they valued their job too much. The principal was an African-American woman who also ran a night-club. Two of her husbands had mysteriously died from poisoning. She spoke every morning on the intercom about what a nice happy family we all were, but that did nothing to relieve the racial tension. We students thought she was a joke.

That tension came to a head for me in 8th grade. That year a local African-American girl named Kiva started attending the school. We never had classes together (I was in the academy, she wasn’t) but we passed each other in the hall. One day she noticed I was missing my left arm (it was harder to notice then because I wore a cosmetic prosthesis). She freaked out and started screaming. From that point on she would start screaming “it’s the one armed girl” every time she saw me and run away from me. It was Jr. High, so that was embarrassing, but then it got worse. She got over her fear of my arm and started harassing me. She would follow me around calling me names, throw my books down the stairs, and rip my folders and homework. She would open the courtyard doors during lunch and let her gang member friends in to harass and throw things at me. Teachers would witness this, but like I said, they would not get involved in inter-racial issues.

One day I was about to walk up the stairs and she came up behind me and told me she commanded me to walk up the stairs. I told her I didn’t want to and started walking away. She then told me that even though I was white and thought I was better than her because she was black, I really wasn’t because I was missing my arm. She was better than a handicapped person and so could tell me what to do. She then tried to make me give her my watch, and I said, “leave me alone bitch” and walked away.

Things came to a head one day when (in front of two watching teachers) she stabbed me with her pen and it drew blood. I had to tell my parents then. They were of course livid and called the school to complain. So both Kiva and I were sent to the principal to talk. I told her all that Kiva had done to me and then she asked Kiva why she did it. Kiva said because I called her a bitch. And so I got in trouble for using a curse word and not trying to be part of the big happy family. Kiva was asked to be nicer to me.

I had a hard time learning to deal with that sort of racial tension. I had friends from various racial backgrounds, but I didn’t know how to cope with being hated for being white, educated, relatively wealthy, and handicapped. I think it opened my eyes to a lot of the underlying issues behind racism and the systemic nature of the problem. But that didn’t mean I did anything to help heal racial relations. I left that school for the highly educated IB Academy high school, I went to a nearly all-white college, and now live in a homogeneously white Midwestern town. And I have conversations with friends about racism, but instead of learning from my Jr. High experience on how to tear down the walls that divide I’ve apparently only managed to build thicker walls. And I don’t know how to change that.

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Returning to Reality…

Posted on September 6, 2007July 9, 2025

So the splint is off. I still can’t really use my finger, but the swelling is gone and it actually bends now. I can still barely type, but I don’t have that huge splint thingy making all my other fingers completely useless anymore. It’s been a really slow week not being able to do anything at all for myself. I discovered I could kinda hold a mass market sized paperback – so I spent the last few days rereading my favorite fantasy series and watching way too many episodes of Heroes. It was fun for about a day, but then being completely helpless, not being able to take care of Emma, not doing anything productive, and having to eat Mike’s cooking got old real fast… Anyway, just wanted to give a short update.

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Sorry, Julie is currently unavailable…

Posted on September 2, 2007July 9, 2025

Julie asked me to let you all know that she won’t be able to post to her blog or respond to email for a few days since she recently sprained her finger trying to put Emma into her car seat and therefore cannot type. Hopefully her finger will be healed in a couple of days.

If anyone’s counting, this is the second time this past year that our 2-year old has sent Julie to the ER.

-Mike

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Faith, Certainty, and Tom Cruise

Posted on August 2, 2007July 9, 2025

A few days ago Erin put up a great post about “Things I Learned From Church (That Didn’t Prove True And What I Am Learning Lately)” It was part of a new synchroblog stared by Glenn Hager. As he describes the purpose of this blog – “I am tackling this issue not because I have an axe to grind with church as we know it, not because I am bitter, and not because I think people who are into attending and supporting conventional churches are inferior. Rather, it is to help me to understand my own thinking…” I was intrigued by the concept and have appreciated some of the posts the participants have put up so far. Then after reading Scot McKnight’s post on certainty and faith yesterday I was reminded of an experience in my church background that I have since learned to regret.

I grew up in a traditional, conservative, Texas dispensational church (I’m sure they would merely call themselves a biblical church, but then again so would just about any church…). Most of my experiences there occurred in the youth group. But this was no games and cool music youth group. It was a sit and listen to hour long sermons, read lots of books, attend seminars, and make fun of those not like us type group. Being a Christian meant one crammed oneself with knowledge about the Bible (oh, and avoided sex at all costs as the youth pastor frequently reminded us by recounting his sinful youthful sexual exploits…). We had to know exactly how to argue people into the faith and how to show them that whatever they believed (be they atheist, pagan, catholic, or baptist) was completely wrong (implying we were completely right). I loved it. As an intellectual nerd who prided herself of getting good grades, this was a religion I could relate to. My “faith” was all about facts and knowledge. So while most of the youth group dreaded attending (their parents made them), I and my small group of friends loved being the know-it-all star Christians.

At one point when I was in high school (here comes the Tom Cruise part), the youth pastor choose a new motto for the group. Taken from the popular movie A Few Good Men (back when Tom Cruise still had a career and wasn’t the Hollywood freak of the week), our rallying cry became – “it doesn’t matter what I believe. It only matters what I can prove!” We were treated to sermons about certainty and correct hermeneutics. We were told that if we do not have 100% certainty about our faith then we are not real Christians. Forget saying a prayer and accepting Jesus into one’s heart, this was the gospel of intellectual works. Knowledge, evidence, and proof were what got one into heaven when we died (the whole point of Christianity of course). Belief and faith meant nothing, all that mattered was proof.

When I mentioned the new motto to a friend at school, he looked at me quizzically and asked me if such a stance undermined the whole idea of faith in the first place. I’m sure I parroted something about rationalism and absolute truth back at him at that point, but over the years since then I have come to see that he had a better conception of true faith than I did. I was Thomas demanding proof and not accepting that “faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” I cared more about CSI style investigations and converting people to creationism than I did about actually serving others or following Christ.

Now as the idea of certainty or absolute knowledge seems so utterly impossible I laugh at my arrogance in assuming I could ever grasp them. But it was a long journey to move to that point. My grip on certainty held me tighter than my grip on Christianity itself. I couldn’t tell if I was more afraid to give up my philosophical system (which defined my religion) than I was to question my faith itself. Or perhaps, I just assumed that they were one in the same. That if I gave up trusting in certainty and empirical proof, I would no longer be a real Christian since I would then have doubts and incomplete knowledge. So the process of letting go was exceeding difficult, but I had to let go in order to discover faith. To discover the mystery and the trust that it takes to believe. To walk by faith not sight.

Now I am sure there are those that will mock me for not being a rationalist. Others who don’t see room for doubt and faith in the Christian faith. Perhaps their experiences work for them. This is just my experience of what I learned from church that didn’t prove true.

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The Bra Issue

Posted on July 31, 2007July 8, 2025

It has been an interesting experience the past few days to read the reactions to the “My Search for a Justice Bra” article (posted here and here at the God’s Politics Blog). There are a couple of things that I want to respond to here, but first the part that caused the most controversy – why did I write about bras for the whole world to see?

Most simply because it was true. It was a true story based on the fact that I really needed a new bra, but it became amusing because of the oddity of writing about a bra. I expected people to smile at the situation and move on. But that proved too difficult for some. Apparently there are a lot of men out there who have the maturity level of a junior high boy when the subject of women and their bodies is brought up (no offense to jr. high boys intended…). Bras are for breasts and the only purpose of those is for sex – or so some seem to believe.

I think I should clarify before I go much further. I have issues with the way the secular media and the Christian church have oversexualized the female body. Of course the body has sexual aspects, but that is a limited and not holistic view. Our bodies are wonderful creations that should be appreciated and cared for. Too often we see them only as shells to be starved and carved into cultural definitions of sexual attractiveness. If the natural functionings of the body don’t aid our sexiness, we hide (or seek to eliminate) them. As discussed recently over at Emerging Women, our menstrual cycles have become a thing to be feared and despised rather than celebrated and accepted. Same thing with breasts. They have become so associated with being a sex object that their natural function for breastfeeding has become taboo for many. Hence the issue with bras. For me a bra is just a part of everyday life. Oh, yes, they can serve a sexually charged function, but as one of the basic everyday parts of life I found it appropriate to see if I could bring environmental stewardship and ethical consumption into that area of my life.

But as a few of the reactions to the story demonstrate, there are some who do not think such a thing is possible. Oh there were those who resorted to cleavage and support jokes – lighthearted attempts to deal with the uncomfortable, but there were others who assumed that I could not possibly be serious about justice issues because I was talking about a bra. Some went so far as to claim that I was a right-wing critic who must be making fun of people who care about justice since I dared to talk about bras. Apparently anything remotely sexual cannot be taken seriously. (which is kinda the whole problem with women only been seen as sex objects and therefore not being taken seriously…).

The point of my search for a justice bra was to see if I could live holistically. To see if I could care for the environment, care for the poor and the oppressed, and be a conscientious consumer. Doing such things requires one to be aware – to consider where and how plants are grown, to think about the long term impact of dyes on the environment and our health, to care for the people who had to work with those chemicals or make my clothes. Our food and clothing does not magically appear in the stores – it all has a story, often a tragic and painful story. Being aware of that story and seeking to improve it is just part of what it means for me to let Christian values influence all areas of my life. But I also see living holistically to include accepting and being comfortable with my body. To care for its needs and not to fear the parts that men have defined in ways that divorce them from their natural function. I do not want to clothe myself with harmful chemicals or dump unnatural hormones into my system. I also don’t want my body to be commoditized by men who think it is only useful as a sex object. So I will not shy away from discussing natural and normal aspects of life. And that includes bras.

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Article over at God’s Politics Blog

Posted on July 26, 2007July 8, 2025

If you are regular reader here you are probably used to my ramblings on trying to be an an ethical consumer. It’s something I am just beginning to explore and figure out for my life. Well earlier this year I embarked on a quest to try to purchase an ethically made bra (yes, I said bra). The process was humorous in many ways and taught me a lot about justice as it relates to retail. I wrote about the whole experience and Part 1 of my story has just been published over at the God’s Politics Blog (Part 2 should be up on Monday). So head over there, read the story, and add your comments (and yes I did expect the cleavage jokes). Enjoy!

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Julie Clawson

Julie Clawson
[email protected]
Writer, mother, dreamer, storyteller...

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"Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise." - Sylvia Plath

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