This is my sermon title for the weekend (Aug. 31) and also the title of a great poem by Marge Piercy. She writes:
Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms...
I loved her poem title because it reminded me of all we cling so tightly to in our world of scary times. We cling to our hopes, market predictions, expectations of other people, our achievements and ideas of how the world should be.
What if, instead, of clinging, we loved differently, with hands wide open?
The Bible text for Sunday is all about Jesus telling the disciples not to cling to their lives, lest they lose them but rather give up their lives for Christ to find them.
I loved this online commentary by artist and writer Jan Richardson:
"Jesus compels us to find the particular path that will enable us to do the work of giving up all that separates us from God, from one another, and from our deepest selves. As Peter learned, this includes releasing our desire to dictate the actions of others in ways we are not meant to do, and letting go of our attachment to outcomes that lie beyond our control. “To have without holding,” poet Marge Piercy puts it. In one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual path, it’s this kind of denial—this kind of detachment—that makes way for our deepest connections.
So what are you attached to just now? How do you know when a treasured expectation, desire, or relationship has become a stumbling block? Who or what helps you recognize these blocks? What might you build from them? Can you imagine what lies beyond them?" (found online at: http://paintedprayerbook.com)
Amen, I say. And check out my sermon, inspired by Jan, this Sunday at Central Lutheran, 9:30 AM.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Taize trip!
Want to go to France?
Here at Central, we've been worshipping in Taize style every 1st and 3rd Thursdays at 7 pm. This service takes a break for summer but will continue Sept. 18. (We also do Holden Evening Prayer on 2nd and 4th Thursdays, same time, this starts Sept. 11).
Anyway, Taize is a way of worship and also a place. Started during WWII era as a refuge for Jews and others, it is now a community where brothers of many faiths live, work and pray. The community also hosts lots and lots of young people, who come for a week to live, work, pray, sing and do Bible studies.
By the way, Taize is located in southeast France, nearest to Lyon on the west or Geneva, Switzerland, on the east.
Taize music is chant-based and repetitive. It becomes a prayer set to music. Worship includes prayer and a time for silence. Participants are encouraged to be open and listening for God during these times. I find the worship services we do here to be very powerful.
The "young adult" program at Taize is for folks aged 18-30 (though others are welcome to visit) and includes a somewhat-structured week, Sunday through Sunday. Young adults from all over the world gather for prayer three times a day, do a Bible study with one of the brothers (in a very diverse group) and help with community chores like cleaning or serving food.
Taize is meant as a place of reflection, worship, discernment and fellowship.
So, here we go. I plan to lead a group of Central young adults to Taize this March, probably March 15-22. The target age is 18-30; I'd like to keep the participants in this age group to respect Taize's structure. (Yes, I know I'm older, but that's okay because I'm the "chaperone," says the Web site :)
Want to join us? Know anyone else who's interested? I already have about 4 women interested and there may be others. Participants would buy their own plane tickets (though we'll do some fundraising to help folks out). The cost of staying at Taize is minimal (about $12 USD per day);Central may be able to help with that.
So ponder this opportunity.
And join us for Taize worship on Sept. 18!
Here at Central, we've been worshipping in Taize style every 1st and 3rd Thursdays at 7 pm. This service takes a break for summer but will continue Sept. 18. (We also do Holden Evening Prayer on 2nd and 4th Thursdays, same time, this starts Sept. 11).
Anyway, Taize is a way of worship and also a place. Started during WWII era as a refuge for Jews and others, it is now a community where brothers of many faiths live, work and pray. The community also hosts lots and lots of young people, who come for a week to live, work, pray, sing and do Bible studies.
By the way, Taize is located in southeast France, nearest to Lyon on the west or Geneva, Switzerland, on the east.
Taize music is chant-based and repetitive. It becomes a prayer set to music. Worship includes prayer and a time for silence. Participants are encouraged to be open and listening for God during these times. I find the worship services we do here to be very powerful.
The "young adult" program at Taize is for folks aged 18-30 (though others are welcome to visit) and includes a somewhat-structured week, Sunday through Sunday. Young adults from all over the world gather for prayer three times a day, do a Bible study with one of the brothers (in a very diverse group) and help with community chores like cleaning or serving food.
Taize is meant as a place of reflection, worship, discernment and fellowship.
So, here we go. I plan to lead a group of Central young adults to Taize this March, probably March 15-22. The target age is 18-30; I'd like to keep the participants in this age group to respect Taize's structure. (Yes, I know I'm older, but that's okay because I'm the "chaperone," says the Web site :)
Want to join us? Know anyone else who's interested? I already have about 4 women interested and there may be others. Participants would buy their own plane tickets (though we'll do some fundraising to help folks out). The cost of staying at Taize is minimal (about $12 USD per day);Central may be able to help with that.
So ponder this opportunity.
And join us for Taize worship on Sept. 18!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Resurrection and the Real World
A friend from seminary is writing her approval essay (the final paperwork to get approved to be a real pastor...oh and you also have to graduate from seminary).
She asked me yesterday for some feedback on one of the questions. The question asked the writer to reflect on Jesus' death and resurrection, using your own thoughts and also connecting it to the Lutheran tradition.
My pal was a bit concerned, she said, for while she (of course) appreciated the resurrection, she found she had more of an incarnational focus. (For you non-church-geeks out there, that means more of a focus on the miracle of Jesus' birth, rather than the whole "rose from the dead" gig).
Well, at this point, I promptly told her to join the Catholic church.
Just kidding.
See, as Lutherans, the deal is, we really are Jesus people. We love God and the Holy Spirit a whole bunch but we tend to focus more on Jesus and his resurrection.
Well, my friend said, this is all well and good, but when we focus on resurrection, we usually have to get into theories of atonement. (Another fancy church word, which means what Jesus did -- died--- to atone, or make up for our sins. Jesus washed away our sins or insert your own favorite image here).
My friend isn't a big fan of atonment theories.
And I can see her point. The classic atonement theory is the "Christus Victor" model, a la theologians like Aulen, who speak of Jesus as this cosmic warrior who fought sin and death and the power of the devil and conquored them on the cross. Thus, this sacrifice of love appeases God's pending judgment upon us. Instead of looking at us in anger when we mess up, God sees us through Jesus' sacrifice and we're all okay.
It does smack of militaristic, conquoring, fighting language, eh? Which I don't particularly care for either. Jesus didn't present himself as much of a warrior. Come on, he was a lover, not a fighter.
But my friend still wanted to know: what would I say about the resurrection? And I belive I'd say this (and I did, to her and now to you, gentle reader).
I do believe in the resurrection. (I think I've blogged about this before, sorry if it's a repeat). I don't know why it happened and I'm not sure if God exactly planned it out that way since the beginning of time. Maybe Jesus just came into the world and loved people and spoke the truth and so of course he got killed. But God knew he could renew and transform such a loss, such an end.
So that's the kind of resurrection I really believe in. I believe in the power of resurrection. I believe that when the worst happens, it's not the last word. God's love and power to transform and bring life out of nothingness is always the last word. I believe that when we are stuck in life, in despair, in turmoil or just plan soaked in apathy that resurrection can break through and God's love will transform even the worst of situations. I believe this will my whole being.
Resurrection gives us hope. Even when we face death, we have hope, because God is still with us. There is always hope. That's what resurrection means to me.
She asked me yesterday for some feedback on one of the questions. The question asked the writer to reflect on Jesus' death and resurrection, using your own thoughts and also connecting it to the Lutheran tradition.
My pal was a bit concerned, she said, for while she (of course) appreciated the resurrection, she found she had more of an incarnational focus. (For you non-church-geeks out there, that means more of a focus on the miracle of Jesus' birth, rather than the whole "rose from the dead" gig).
Well, at this point, I promptly told her to join the Catholic church.
Just kidding.
See, as Lutherans, the deal is, we really are Jesus people. We love God and the Holy Spirit a whole bunch but we tend to focus more on Jesus and his resurrection.
Well, my friend said, this is all well and good, but when we focus on resurrection, we usually have to get into theories of atonement. (Another fancy church word, which means what Jesus did -- died--- to atone, or make up for our sins. Jesus washed away our sins or insert your own favorite image here).
My friend isn't a big fan of atonment theories.
And I can see her point. The classic atonement theory is the "Christus Victor" model, a la theologians like Aulen, who speak of Jesus as this cosmic warrior who fought sin and death and the power of the devil and conquored them on the cross. Thus, this sacrifice of love appeases God's pending judgment upon us. Instead of looking at us in anger when we mess up, God sees us through Jesus' sacrifice and we're all okay.
It does smack of militaristic, conquoring, fighting language, eh? Which I don't particularly care for either. Jesus didn't present himself as much of a warrior. Come on, he was a lover, not a fighter.
But my friend still wanted to know: what would I say about the resurrection? And I belive I'd say this (and I did, to her and now to you, gentle reader).
I do believe in the resurrection. (I think I've blogged about this before, sorry if it's a repeat). I don't know why it happened and I'm not sure if God exactly planned it out that way since the beginning of time. Maybe Jesus just came into the world and loved people and spoke the truth and so of course he got killed. But God knew he could renew and transform such a loss, such an end.
So that's the kind of resurrection I really believe in. I believe in the power of resurrection. I believe that when the worst happens, it's not the last word. God's love and power to transform and bring life out of nothingness is always the last word. I believe that when we are stuck in life, in despair, in turmoil or just plan soaked in apathy that resurrection can break through and God's love will transform even the worst of situations. I believe this will my whole being.
Resurrection gives us hope. Even when we face death, we have hope, because God is still with us. There is always hope. That's what resurrection means to me.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Remembering Bonny Sosa
Bonny Sosa died on Thursday, Aug. 7 of a brain tumor that was just barely diagnosed. She was 50 years old and an active, healthy runner and yoga practitioner. I knew Bonny as a friend.
Her memorial service was Friday, Aug. 15, here at Central. There were about 400 people present, from diverse parts of the Anchorage world. People came from the Anchorage Convention and Visitors Bureau, because Bonny had worked there. People came from the mountian running community because Bonny helped establish a race series. People came from the yoga world because Bonny was a registered yoga teacher. People came from the school district, because Bonny and husband Sam Young had established and grown the Healthy Futures program for kids to stay active. People came from all over, because Bonny was raised here in Anchorage, where her parents and family still live.
I asked a pastor during seminary if memorial services get easier once you've done a few. Nope, she assured me, they get much harder.
There is very little I can say for sure in times of loss. I just say "I'm so sorry." I assure people of God's constant presence and love; God holds us in life and in death. It's not much, but I hope it's enough.
Death is a good time for storytelling, I will say that. It seems somehow comforting and healing to know these vivid stories of our loved ones live on after they have gone beyond the veil.
The stories were great at Bonny's memorial. She was kind, compassionate, warm, inviting, encouraging and positive. It was fun to get to know her better from stories shared.
The presenters of those stories were pretty diverse and maybe that was the best part. One yoga friend commented after the service: Where else in town can you attend a memorial where the pastor is a yoga teacher, the superintendent of schools (Carol Comeau) and an Olympian (Kikkan Randall)share remembrances and the congregation sings Amazing Grace accompanied only by a harmonica played by the owner of The Look? (That's a lingerie and more shop, for those outside of Anchorage :)
Bonny's life was very, very good.
Her husband said her office told something about her. The walls were plastered with inspirational quotes, like "If you're going to do something, do it with passion" and "Never walk when you can skip." Where were her many awards, he asked? She hid them under the bed.
Finally, this word I shared in my sermon: For God so loved the world, that he gave us Bonny.
Her memorial service was Friday, Aug. 15, here at Central. There were about 400 people present, from diverse parts of the Anchorage world. People came from the Anchorage Convention and Visitors Bureau, because Bonny had worked there. People came from the mountian running community because Bonny helped establish a race series. People came from the yoga world because Bonny was a registered yoga teacher. People came from the school district, because Bonny and husband Sam Young had established and grown the Healthy Futures program for kids to stay active. People came from all over, because Bonny was raised here in Anchorage, where her parents and family still live.
I asked a pastor during seminary if memorial services get easier once you've done a few. Nope, she assured me, they get much harder.
There is very little I can say for sure in times of loss. I just say "I'm so sorry." I assure people of God's constant presence and love; God holds us in life and in death. It's not much, but I hope it's enough.
Death is a good time for storytelling, I will say that. It seems somehow comforting and healing to know these vivid stories of our loved ones live on after they have gone beyond the veil.
The stories were great at Bonny's memorial. She was kind, compassionate, warm, inviting, encouraging and positive. It was fun to get to know her better from stories shared.
The presenters of those stories were pretty diverse and maybe that was the best part. One yoga friend commented after the service: Where else in town can you attend a memorial where the pastor is a yoga teacher, the superintendent of schools (Carol Comeau) and an Olympian (Kikkan Randall)share remembrances and the congregation sings Amazing Grace accompanied only by a harmonica played by the owner of The Look? (That's a lingerie and more shop, for those outside of Anchorage :)
Bonny's life was very, very good.
Her husband said her office told something about her. The walls were plastered with inspirational quotes, like "If you're going to do something, do it with passion" and "Never walk when you can skip." Where were her many awards, he asked? She hid them under the bed.
Finally, this word I shared in my sermon: For God so loved the world, that he gave us Bonny.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
It's not fair!
The theme for camp this week is justice, or "Just for Life," as our sweet blue T-shirts say. It's good stuff: parables about God's amazing generosity and forgiveness. But's it's also a bit abstract, I think, for some of these third-graders. Ah well, at least if they know that God loves them no matter what, it's a good start.
Camp is going well, I think, now that we're three days in and into a routine. I work with the Koinonia (jr high) side of camp, so here's typical day:
Breakfast
All-camp morning worship (which I'm leading now, since Pr Martin left)
Bible study (also me)
Environmental game/teaching (Erik Johnson, sometimes me)
Lunch
Quiet time (with cabins)
Free time (Kids rotate between crafts, gym, waterfront, camp store)
Dinner
Staff Meeting
Small group time and journaling (which is torture for some boys)
Games
Campfire (let by older counselors, pastor gets to pontificate some)
So here are some cool things about camp: watching high school kids lead small group Bible conversations (way to go Drop in Center guys!), hearing kids sing Bible songs really LOUD, seeing how proud kids are when they pass their swimming test (burr, cold water!) and watching friendships form.
My favorite moment yesterday was when I was sitting at lunch by myself (the adult table was full) and two little boys and one counselor (Thanks Nick!!) came to sit with me. It was pretty precious.
Yesterday's curriculum was about the parable of the workers in the vineyard...how the wealthy landowner paid those who labored all day the same wage as those who came to work late in the day. It's not fair, was the theme. Which I thought was appropriate, because this is so common for kids to say...and adults too. Someone (an adult) commented that this is a very Western way of being...we worry about fairness. I wonder if that's true? Anyway, who knows how much these kids get out of these things, but I guess we just lay these things on their hearts and someday, when they break, maybe the Word will gently seep inside.
Camp is going well, I think, now that we're three days in and into a routine. I work with the Koinonia (jr high) side of camp, so here's typical day:
Breakfast
All-camp morning worship (which I'm leading now, since Pr Martin left)
Bible study (also me)
Environmental game/teaching (Erik Johnson, sometimes me)
Lunch
Quiet time (with cabins)
Free time (Kids rotate between crafts, gym, waterfront, camp store)
Dinner
Staff Meeting
Small group time and journaling (which is torture for some boys)
Games
Campfire (let by older counselors, pastor gets to pontificate some)
So here are some cool things about camp: watching high school kids lead small group Bible conversations (way to go Drop in Center guys!), hearing kids sing Bible songs really LOUD, seeing how proud kids are when they pass their swimming test (burr, cold water!) and watching friendships form.
My favorite moment yesterday was when I was sitting at lunch by myself (the adult table was full) and two little boys and one counselor (Thanks Nick!!) came to sit with me. It was pretty precious.
Yesterday's curriculum was about the parable of the workers in the vineyard...how the wealthy landowner paid those who labored all day the same wage as those who came to work late in the day. It's not fair, was the theme. Which I thought was appropriate, because this is so common for kids to say...and adults too. Someone (an adult) commented that this is a very Western way of being...we worry about fairness. I wonder if that's true? Anyway, who knows how much these kids get out of these things, but I guess we just lay these things on their hearts and someday, when they break, maybe the Word will gently seep inside.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Bible camp on a shoestring
I'm spending this week at Lutheran Bible Camp, located at Victory Bible Camp about 100 miles north of Anchorage. This is my first time at this camp, though I worked as a camp counselor in college at a Bible camp in Iowa (Go EWALU!)
About 35 junior high kids are here this week, along with about 50 elementary-aged kids (that's a rough estimate). Kids and staff are from a number of Anchorage churches, with the majority being from Central, Good Shepherd in Wasilla and St. Mark's.
So we're a little short-staffed this year. We have a lower number of adult volunteers than usual and are down several staff and pastors who have previously led camp. In fact, there are only two pastors here right now (Martin Eldred from Joy and me... and he's leaving today after lunch.) So, I feel blessed to be able to be here and use my pastorly gifts and generally share God's love, hang out, etc. It's good to be at camp.
The kids really love this experience, though some of the older ones have commented things seem less organized this year (because they are!) Still, for many kids, this is THE pivotal faith experience and encounter with God they will name. Camp matters and I can see it in how they engage in the activities. It's pretty cool to hear a group of young people singing so loud in praise to God.
I'm truly bummed we don't have more kids here from Central. We have one in the Alpine (elementary) program and three in the Koinonia (jr high) program. In addition, five of the counselors are young people from Central's drop in center. I gues this is saying something about the DIC: those kids stick around and participate...and where are the rest of our High Schoolers? There's no judgement in this remark, I just wonder why more Central kids and counselors aren't here.
I think I might make this mandatory for Confirmation kids next year. In terms of value of faith experience, they might get more out of this one week than two years of classes. Just a thought.
Anyway, the weather was beautiful yesterday (Day 1) and the kids enjoyed horseback rides and swimming in the afternoon. Yes, outdoor swimming in Alaska in August. These kids are tough. I'm not getting in that water :)
I'd love your prayers this week...for our stretched-too-thin camp staff and our kids, that they might feel God's love this week. Oh, speaking of staff, big shout out to Sue Tonkins and Karen Emmel from Central, who stepped up to spend the whole week here at camp, to be nurse and craft person, respectively. And we can't wait to get Holly Emmel here...she'll be here tomorrow, after finally getting out of Seattle due to Alaska volcano delays. Is not Alaska grand?
More from camp later...
About 35 junior high kids are here this week, along with about 50 elementary-aged kids (that's a rough estimate). Kids and staff are from a number of Anchorage churches, with the majority being from Central, Good Shepherd in Wasilla and St. Mark's.
So we're a little short-staffed this year. We have a lower number of adult volunteers than usual and are down several staff and pastors who have previously led camp. In fact, there are only two pastors here right now (Martin Eldred from Joy and me... and he's leaving today after lunch.) So, I feel blessed to be able to be here and use my pastorly gifts and generally share God's love, hang out, etc. It's good to be at camp.
The kids really love this experience, though some of the older ones have commented things seem less organized this year (because they are!) Still, for many kids, this is THE pivotal faith experience and encounter with God they will name. Camp matters and I can see it in how they engage in the activities. It's pretty cool to hear a group of young people singing so loud in praise to God.
I'm truly bummed we don't have more kids here from Central. We have one in the Alpine (elementary) program and three in the Koinonia (jr high) program. In addition, five of the counselors are young people from Central's drop in center. I gues this is saying something about the DIC: those kids stick around and participate...and where are the rest of our High Schoolers? There's no judgement in this remark, I just wonder why more Central kids and counselors aren't here.
I think I might make this mandatory for Confirmation kids next year. In terms of value of faith experience, they might get more out of this one week than two years of classes. Just a thought.
Anyway, the weather was beautiful yesterday (Day 1) and the kids enjoyed horseback rides and swimming in the afternoon. Yes, outdoor swimming in Alaska in August. These kids are tough. I'm not getting in that water :)
I'd love your prayers this week...for our stretched-too-thin camp staff and our kids, that they might feel God's love this week. Oh, speaking of staff, big shout out to Sue Tonkins and Karen Emmel from Central, who stepped up to spend the whole week here at camp, to be nurse and craft person, respectively. And we can't wait to get Holly Emmel here...she'll be here tomorrow, after finally getting out of Seattle due to Alaska volcano delays. Is not Alaska grand?
More from camp later...
Sunday, August 03, 2008
A Terrible, Horrible, No-good, Very Bad Day
With apologies to the author of that children's book, I had a rotten day on Saturday, July 26. Yes, I know this is not my personal diary; it's supposed to be a blog of potentially inspiring cultural and theological observations.
But maybe I can make a theological point at the end.
Anyway, my brother Jay was visiting for the past three weeks and just left last Wednesday (July 30). We did quite a bit of traveling (including a week-long mission trip) and site-seeing and I was still trying to work as much as possible, see my other friends and keep up my training for a fall marathon. I was exhausted toward July's end.
I went on a long training run in Kincaid, where it poured rain the entire time I was out there (1.5 hours). When I came back to the chalet, I discovered my car key had fallen out of my pocket. I called a friend who has my spare to come get me. While I waited for my friend, I decided to check out a portion of trail where I thought I might have lost the key. Running just a few minutes away from the chalet, I came upon a woman stopped by a black bear cub. We shooed it into the bushes on one side of the trail, then noticed a mama black bear on the other side of the trail. Oops. We shooed her away too and ran for the chalet.
Now I want to point out that I am weary of bears. This is the first one (two) I've seen this summer. My very favorite and regular place to run is the trails near Hilltop ski resort. But since there have been so many reported grizzly encounters, I have stopped running there. I'm trying to give the bears their space. Which is why seeing them at Kincaid was such a bummer. Come on! I'm trying to be bear sensitive! What's a runner to do?
Anyway, I came home, showered and prepared dinner. While chopping mint leaves for the tabbouli, I sliced my left middle finger quite thoroughly, spattered blood all over the kitchen and had a friend drive me to the Emergency Room. I couldn't feel the end of the finger at all, which concerned me. But the ER doc just super-glued me back together. He said I should get most of the feeling back in a few weeks; right now a week later its still quite numb.
So, am I just a whiner? Maybe. We all have bad days, many so much worse than my minor complaints. But it just reminded me that when summer gets busy with vistors, travel, outdoor pursuits that its easy to run so fast we miss the little things that really are the big things. Like the kindness of my friend who picked me up at Kincaid. The tangy taste of the tabbouli (minus the bloody mint leaves). The gentle sound of the rain that leaves Kincaid so freshly green.
I'm reminded to slow down. And be more careful with my kitchen knife.
But maybe I can make a theological point at the end.
Anyway, my brother Jay was visiting for the past three weeks and just left last Wednesday (July 30). We did quite a bit of traveling (including a week-long mission trip) and site-seeing and I was still trying to work as much as possible, see my other friends and keep up my training for a fall marathon. I was exhausted toward July's end.
I went on a long training run in Kincaid, where it poured rain the entire time I was out there (1.5 hours). When I came back to the chalet, I discovered my car key had fallen out of my pocket. I called a friend who has my spare to come get me. While I waited for my friend, I decided to check out a portion of trail where I thought I might have lost the key. Running just a few minutes away from the chalet, I came upon a woman stopped by a black bear cub. We shooed it into the bushes on one side of the trail, then noticed a mama black bear on the other side of the trail. Oops. We shooed her away too and ran for the chalet.
Now I want to point out that I am weary of bears. This is the first one (two) I've seen this summer. My very favorite and regular place to run is the trails near Hilltop ski resort. But since there have been so many reported grizzly encounters, I have stopped running there. I'm trying to give the bears their space. Which is why seeing them at Kincaid was such a bummer. Come on! I'm trying to be bear sensitive! What's a runner to do?
Anyway, I came home, showered and prepared dinner. While chopping mint leaves for the tabbouli, I sliced my left middle finger quite thoroughly, spattered blood all over the kitchen and had a friend drive me to the Emergency Room. I couldn't feel the end of the finger at all, which concerned me. But the ER doc just super-glued me back together. He said I should get most of the feeling back in a few weeks; right now a week later its still quite numb.
So, am I just a whiner? Maybe. We all have bad days, many so much worse than my minor complaints. But it just reminded me that when summer gets busy with vistors, travel, outdoor pursuits that its easy to run so fast we miss the little things that really are the big things. Like the kindness of my friend who picked me up at Kincaid. The tangy taste of the tabbouli (minus the bloody mint leaves). The gentle sound of the rain that leaves Kincaid so freshly green.
I'm reminded to slow down. And be more careful with my kitchen knife.
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