Day Nine: What’s at Stake in the Gender Role Debate?

My previous post seemed to prompt a myriad of other questions from readers and from my own ruminations. There can be little argument that gender roles have been and will continue to be an issue for much of the Christian church for many years (perhaps generations) to come. This all prompts the beginning of what has become an important exercise for me. Whenever I get into the middle of a polemical debate, eventually I want to know what people are protecting; and, so, I begin deconstructing the various arguments trying to find out what is at stake for each group in the argument. Unfortunately, sometimes the breadth of the issue extends beyond my personal expertise. The argument over gender roles is quickly turning into one of those discussions that obviously has pertinence in a variety of fields – effectively dismantling my ability to efficiently tease out the prominent theological issues. There seems to me to be clear interference in identifying theologically sound gender roles coming from cultural narratives. Even the soft sciences point to the fact that much of our gender identity comes from environment. Consequently, the loop I get stuck in comes, in part, from the fact that those soft sciences identify religion as one of the environmental factors that produce sexism (here is an example of what I mean). So, what are the questions that best identify what is at stake when we discuss gender roles and their practical impact on Christian theology? Here are a few of the things that I have been thinking about and researching as I try to identify some of the root issues.

1. To what extent, if any, does the biological function of gender play? Namely, there are some writing from the Christian perspective that seem invested in framing gender roles within the confines of anatomical differences, why? There are, of course, a series of questions that follow - and this will require the most exploration, because I know the least about it. Does your reproductive function (your maleness or femaleness) actually have bearing on anything outside of, well, reproduction? In other words, does having a certain anatomical characteristic extend beyond the anatomy’s actual function? In an entirely biological sense, I am a male because my body produces “small, typically motile gametes, esp. spermatozoa, with which a female may be fertilized or inseminated to produce offspring.” Is that the end of gender distinction? Do the hormones that cause my body to serve a certain reproductive function also program my personality to only serve a certain social function? Does that programmed social function constitute the will of God for my life? In fact, by the 1990′s we have an interdisciplinary field trying to explain how these questions get answered – sociobiology.

2. Are some Christians trying to prop up their bibliology? Here, I must confess a personal bias. I have read many evangelical scholars that essentially paint themselves into a corner on this issue. Many have attempted to defend certain notions of inerrancy and infallibility in our modern translations only to retreat to defending them in the manuscripts, only to retreat to defending them in autographs, only to defending them in “essential” New Testament material (see this text by G.K. Beale for a discussion of the “erosion” as he calls it)

3. Are some Christians trying to prop up their ecclesiology? Let’s be honest, the huge ordination debate centers on the fact that traditionalist understandings of gender roles prevail in most churches. A few articles that interact with some different nuances of the issue are here, here, here, and here.

4. Are some Christian men trying to prop up their patriarchy? Here is an even-handed text that addresses these (and other) kinds of questions.

5. What is the real (if any) significance that Jesus was male, and how is that significance offset by a robust Mariology in the Church?

6. How much of Scripture’s account regarding this material is meant to be prescriptive; and how much is, by virtue of context, only descriptive?

I don’t currently belive that there is a clear-cut answer to all of these types of questions. I think gender and gender identity is created by a variety of things, but I can assert with certainty at least one thing: whatever differences gender identity and roles introduce, there is no value difference between men and women and to the extent that our theology allows men to be held above women our theology is wrong.

So, what do you think is really at stake in the debate over gender roles? What do you think people are protecting?

 

Day Eight: Mars Hill and Gender Roles

If you are a student of theology searching through sources that are immediately obvious (Mars Hill Church’s web page) and easily attainable (the publications of Pastor Mark Driscoll) concerning the theology of Mars Hill Church, you will find nothing surprising, nothing indecent, nothing “out of the ordinary.” This was, frankly, a little bit surprising, indecent, and unexpected to me. You see, much of my experience with Mars Hill Church, and Mark Driscoll by way of extension, is through those that attend services at a Mars Hill campus or through those that listen to Mark’s sermons. Without fail (no, really) these conversations always lead to a discussion regarding Mark’s theology on gender roles; particularly gender roles and how they are played out in the church and home. Now, admittedly, many of my more recent conversations have been driven by my own morbid curiosity concerning these issues. As such, I am the one that brings up the gender role “issue.” However, my most recent encounter with this theology comes via a concerned friend attending a Mars Hill Church.

I know I am late to this party. Bloggers have been bashing and defending Mark for years. The reason I enter the fray now is in order to faithfully walk with a friend in need. Consequently, though I am late, I wonder if two or three years after the brouhaha I am not seeing the practical incarnation of Mark’s theology in the lives of his parishioners. Still, it bears telling that after reading everything I could get my hands on for free and after watching what seemed like pertinent sermon archives on YouTube, I am mostly annoyed over how little I am actually annoyed by Mark’s writing and preaching when it comes to matters of orthodox theology. Sure, his tone is brash, his words are poorly chosen at times, and he mostly lacks theological finesse; but which of these things could not also be said of me? The lion’s share of his doctrinal writing is done in the style and quality of most reformed theology. So, after adjusting for things that I would personally not like to be nitpicked on, I am not left with a lot to attack.

Then there is the ministry niche he is filling. Mark has made his mark in the church market by bringing in the elusive 20-35 male crowd. He has published quite a bit of material directed toward discipling Christian men on how to be good husbands and fathers. How did he do it? Well, here is where most people have been fighting. Dr. Richard Beck of ACU has a very evenhanded approach to understanding the practical/pastoral theology of Mark Driscoll and why it makes waves in the broader Christian community. In short, Mark’s advocates claim that he has given men permission to be real men, and Mark’s detractors claim that he has created a haven for misogynists and their sympathizers. Dr. Beck’s blog (here and at the end of this post) answers with an eloquent “yes” on both counts.

Mark should be applauded for an attempt to bring genuine masculinity into an environment whose controlling narrative is fundamentally feminine and feminizing. Conversely, Mark’s teaching is not always accurate in depicting genuine masculinity. Instead, much of what Mark props up as complimentarian gender distinction finds its locus in misogyny. To borrow Dr. Beck’s words,

“I think this is because there is a great deal of confusion about what we mean by “masculine.” In psychology, the word “masculinity”, due to its gender overtones, has been largely replaced by the term “agency.” Agency/masculinity is associated with motives for control, power, independence, and dominance. These are, stereotypically, “masculine” traits, but women can be highly agentic as well. If agency means power, control, and dominance then it seems clear that “masculine” traits will struggle to find a place in the Christian ethic. This was precisely Nietzsche’s concern about Christianity: Christianity preaches a passive “slave ethic.””

Consequently, Mark is an “agentic” guy and he interprets his “agency” as genuine masculinity. So, what is the best way for Christian men to be genuinely masculine in the Christian sense? If you read Mark’s publications the answer is for men to exert control, power, independence, and dominance over their wives and children. Hmm, that sounds familiar. Where have we heard it before?

One more quote from Dr. Beck is helpful I think:

“I’ve {Dr. Beck} argued in Thought #1 and #2 that Driscoll should not be so easily dismissed. The question he’s raising–Why are males not more attracted to church?–is worth asking. And one of his diagnoses on this issue–Church leaders are chickified–has some merit to it.

But the dark side of Driscoll’s ministry is its chauvinism and misogyny. And this criticism is also valid for certain impulses one finds in the Christian men’s movements. Specifically, the assertion of masculinity implies a suppression of women and a restoration of male power over women. To be a “Christian man” means “reclaiming” and “taking back” leadership roles in both the family and the church. Men use spiritual warrant to assert power over women.”

The danger is when Mark uses biblical exegesis in that very “evangelical argumentum ad baculum” way to proof text gender roles that he superimposes on biblical texts. Why is this problematic? It is problematic, because this theology has created a normative expression of gender in the Mars Hill Community that cannot be contradicted, because of an appeal to Scriptural authority. If one does not meet the expectations of those normative gender roles, then one is looked down upon for not submitting to God. In short, if you are a member of Mars Hill Church and want to participate as a leader (even at the lowest rung) in discipleship or fellowship, then you cannot deviate from the established gender roles. If you want to lead a small group and you are a man, then you had better be fulfilling Mark’s vision of genuine masculinity – read dominant, controlling, and powerful. If you want your family to belong and you are a woman, then you had better be fulfilling Mark’s vision of genuine femininity – read submissive, controlled, and weak. So, what happens if it makes better sense for a family if the mother works and the father stays home to raise the children? You come up for “review” with the leadership of the church, that’s what. A man who will stay home with his children while his wife works comes under the same kind of scrutiny as a man who is cheating on his wife. It becomes a question of whether said man is “fit to lead.” This is justified, because, apparently, Mark’s Bible says so.

Exegetically, Mark takes too many liberties in 1) giving narrow definitions for terms that are either contextually or culturally bound in the text, and in 2) insisting that such notions be applied to the lives of Christians as if they were the actual theological principles found in the texts, and in 3) using wisdom literature as prescriptive rather than descriptive.

For an instance of #1 and #2, in this broadcast posted on YouTube, you can see the basic hermeneutical approach utilized by Mark and his wife. They use 1 Timothy 5:8 which says, “but a man that will not provide for his own and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith, and is worse than an unbeliever” as an injunction against both a father that would stay home and take care of his family in order for his wife to work, and as an injunction against a father that allows his wife to work outside of the home – at all. Mark even goes as far as to acknowledge that some have complained that he takes the Bible out of its cultural context, but does nothing to answer the criticism.

As far as 1 Timothy 5 is concerned, a larger issue than even the cultural expression of gender role is the fact that Paul is clearly not talking about “every man.” Paul is giving instruction to widows, their families, and their churches. Paul tells them that some of them are merely husbandless, and some of them are “true widows.” Those women who find themselves husbandless are to return to their parents. In which case, Paul explains that the parents of husbandless women that will not care for her have denied the faith and are worse than an unbeliever. Apparently, Timothy’s church was full of rich, heartless bastards that wouldn’t even take care of their widowed daughters, because it was easy to let the church community do it instead. This comes from only a simple reading of the whole text of Timothy. No fancy Greek translation, no obscure historical-cultural background. Mark Driscoll is superimposing what he wants the text to say onto a text that seems to fit the bill. I think we call that proof texting? In fact, if anyone would take the time to read it, I surmise that I could easily dismiss most of his readings in Ephesians 5, Colossians 3, 1 Peter 3, and Titus 2 on the basis of the same kind of sloppy hermeneutics.

For an instance of #3, in Pastor Dad he states that Proverbs 19:13 proves that the sorry state of modern families is due to the fact that women have undermined the authority of the husbands by “chirping” at them constantly and turning their children into ruinous fools by proxy. The verse says, “A foolish son is ruin to his father, and a wife’s quarreling is a continual dripping of rain.” I’m sure it is obvious to everyone how he came to those conclusions? Interestingly, this kind of exegesis is damaging to the actual principle at hand. Why can we not just appreciate the wisdom of Scripture in identifying the importance of harmony in the home? Why does this verse prove gender roles? Go ahead; replace any of the characters in the verse with another member of the family. For instance, what if son and father is replaced with daughter and mother – what if a wife’s quarreling is replaced with a husband’s quarreling? Does it change the theological principle? No. Does it change the verse’s utility as a proof text for gender roles? Uh-oh. Furthermore, and perhaps more problematic, why does Mark have to rely on Scripture’s wisdom literature in such a prescriptive manner for so much of his theological stance on gender roles?

What is ultimately the case, in my experience, is that only people who have the luxury of indulging their personal biases and living out their “ideal self” are ever so pedantic about moralizing issues like gender role. Sure, there are lots of chauvinist men out there that would have their wives in their proper place – the home; but how many of them earn Mark’s salary? Sure, there are lots of misogynists out there that think women are gullible and weaker than men, but how many of them are as charismatic as Mark? Mark has the ability to get away with this moralizing, because he is a successful mega-church pastor (and has been since a young age) and is untouched by the realities faced by young professionals, single parents and low-income families alike. This is, of course, a practical explanation of what ultimately originates from a need in the theological framework of most “conservative evangelical” narratives. Meaning this: sure Mark is reaching a historically hard to reach demographic, but he is reinforcing a historically negative social hierarchy based in gender bias. This negative bias is at the root of many patriarchal worldviews, and is defensible from arguments that rely on perspectives that in turn rely on traditionally fundamentalist understandings of Scriptural authority. What’s the cost? Real people, in real modern families, are once again begin taught to objectify women by men of the cloth. Kyrie Eleison.

Some of the interesting material I used preparing for the post

http://theresurgence.com/files/2011/03/02/relit_ebook_pastordad.pdf

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WPVxndUcHQ

http://experimentaltheology.blogspot.com/2009/02/thoughts-on-mark-driscoll-while-im.html

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/11/magazine/11punk-t.html?pagewanted=all

http://www.cbmw.org/images/onlinebooks/rbmw.pdf

http://www.dennyburk.com/mark-driscoll-on-women-in-ministry-2/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-goldstein/whos-to-blame-for-pastor-_b_33279.html

 

Day Seven: Faith Based Hate

Audience is important.  This topic, while floating on the periphery of my “soap-box zone,” demands that its audience be clearly articulated.  It is important that readers recognize that I am addressing professing Christians.  I am writing this post for those who proclaim the Lordship of Christ over their lives, for those that call Jesus “Master.”  Though, there exists a more specific audience as well.  I am directing it at a certain enclave of people within the Church.  I am writing to a group of people who I feel like are having a hard time separating certain sociological or political agendas from the Gospel.  My designation of some Christians as hopelessly bound to certain cultural or political ideologies also demands a disclaimer of sorts.  I am not writing about politics, sociological concerns, or culture per se.  For the remainder of this post, I do not care about the audience’s political affiliations, the audience’s acceptance or rejection of culturally normative practices, or the audience’s comfort level concerning certain taboos.  What I have to say can be expressed in one simple sentence, but then requires a little “unpacking.”

The moment you used your Christian faith to justify hate, you profaned the very heart of the Gospel message.

This practice, sadly, only constitutes the next step in a series of hate-crimes perpetrated by ”Christians” throughout history.  From what I have been able to gather, a central theme drives the heart of this hate machine.  Said theme is a misguided notion that touts a sensibility toward holiness (both individual and corporate) which demands that Christians hate sin as God hates sin.  The notion asserts that God, being fundamentally attuned toward holiness, hates sin with everything in his being; so much so, in fact, that there is a veritable flood of his wrath waiting to be unleashed on the unwitting denizens of Earth.  Consequently, this misguided notion of God is further contorted to include the duty of all Christians to emulate God’s hate for sin.  Presumably, this hate begins by being directed inwardly at one’s own heart, directed at one’s own sin, and then radiates in righteous fury outward toward all those that dare stand in defiance of the holiness of God.

As such, some among the Christian community feel compelled to point out the sin of others as a demonstration of the holiness of God.  Consequently, some “Christians” have harbored hate for the homosexual and lesbian community, because “God hates fags.”  Some Christians condone the murder of countless Muslim innocents in the Middle East (and around the world), because “There shall be no other gods before you.”  Some Christians rail against the evil of abortion on the basis of the sanctity of life, but condone the State killing criminals, because God prescribed the execution of those who broke certain of his laws.  There are at least two clear refutations of this sensibility. 

First, equally compelling biblical arguments can be made for the fundamental and irrevocable change that the in-breaking of the Kingdom of Heaven causes in our fallen world.  In other words, for every passage that speaks of God’s wrath against sin, a passage can be found balancing the perspective with God’s unfailing and unconditional love for humanity.  And so, a popular adage rears its ugly head yet again.  “I hate the sin, but love the sinner (‘just like God’ ought to be added to the end of this).”  Ironically, it is a quote frequently thrown around and often attributed to Jesus, but you’re not going to find it in your Bible.  Go on and look, I’ll wait…  See, I told you.  The ironic part is that some modern Christians are content to ignore some compelling instances of Christ seeing past sin in favor of a quote (mostly likely belonging to Mahatma Gandhi) that allows them to perpetuate their personal distaste over certain people or behaviors under the guise of pleasing God and being more like him.  It is misguided at its best, and disgusting at its worst.  I find it most pertinent, and extremely telling that one of the oral traditions cherished by early Johannine communities was eventually grafted into John’s account of the Bible.  When a woman caught in adultery was thrown at the feet of Jesus he didn’t say, “you know you’re right – My Father really hates sin, and this woman is easily the most perverse among us; so, let’s make an example out of her.  Get her, boys!”  What he did say was far more powerful:

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger.  When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stoneat her.”  Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.  Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,”Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

While there is some rather compelling evidence to prove that John the Apostle did not write this episode, it will have to wait for another post some other day.  The important point for this post is simple.  Does God call us to live holy lives; lives that reject sin, that embrace his life, and that are patterned after his example?  OBVIOUSLY.  Does God ever condone our desire to take on the role of condemnation?  Obviously not.  In fact, in some very fascinating episodes, he refuses to condemn anyone himself.  Jesus’ posture toward the sinner was one of acceptance, love, and embrace – which leads nicely into my second point.

Second, our calling as Christians is to follow the example of Christ.  It is his image with which we must eventually be reconciled.  The Gospels, generally, and Luke, specifically, infuse the mission of Christ with a priority for the disenfranchised.  In simple terms, if you are the poor, sick, lonely or reviled, then Jesus is on your side.  He is on your side simply because you are poor, sick, lonely and/or reviled.  The Christian’s role ought to be one directed toward reconciling God’s creation back to him.  Our genuine heart ought to be as Christ’s was; we must see the poor, the sick, the lonely and the reviled as God’s priority.  If it is not clear enough yet, allow me to make it clearer still.  Christ is on the side of the homosexual/ lesbian, simply because they are reviled by our culture – because they are disenfranchised (If you doubt this, look at the number of times Luke assigns the position of “true faith” to a Roman soldier and not a Jew).  Christ is on the side of the Muslim victims of war, simply because they are globally reviled.  Christ is on the side of… oh, just fill in the blank with any person or group that “creeps you out” for no good reason.  If you want to be like Jesus, you must love those that nobody else will love.

Furthermore, it is time that more of us stood up for those that even some Christians want to hate.  This is not about politics, social justice, or cultural studies.  This is about the Gospel message containing hope and peace.  It is about the Church being Christ to the world.  Oddly, this is something that most (if not all) would easily accept, and yet our hate continues. 

It is not okay.

 

Day Six: Some Questions About the Problem of Evil

First, it is an old question.  It constitutes one of those objections to our experiences as human beings that require an answer form every generation of Christians.  In other words, there is more than one conceptual image at work.  Simultaneously, the “problem of evil” demonstrates what seems like inconsistencies in the truth claims inherent in Christianity (specifically) and theism (generally).  However, there is some evidence to suggest that the problem is unduly complicated by misunderstanding the nature of those truth claims.  For example, in its classic formulation the problem of evil reads like this, “If God exists, then God is omnipotent, omniscient, and morally perfect.  If God is omnipotent, then God has the power to eliminate all evil.  If God is omniscient, then God knows when evil exists.  If God is morally perfect, then God has the desire to eliminate all evil.  Evil exists.  If evil exists and God exists, then either God doesn’t have the power to eliminate all evil, or doesn’t know when evil exists, or doesn’t have the desire to eliminate all evil.  Therefore, God doesn’t exist.”  Perhaps a less technical, but sufficiently succinct way to put it is, “If God (who is completely good and powerful) exists, then how can evil also exist?”  Clearly, this creates a neat little problem for Christians and theists.  If you deny that evil exists, you seem foolish.  If you deny that God is ultimately good or utterly powerful, you seem to be denying the concept of God.  Consequently, the argument is set up as an “either/or” – either evil is real or God (as conceptualized by theism, especially Christianity) is real, because they cannot co-exist.  This is a decidedly deductive construction of the problem.  There are also inductive forms of the problem.  In terms of theism, though, the ontological defense of God’s existence is valid and true (and convincing) – therefore, for a theist, inductive forms of the problem of evil and facts about evil “cannot constitute even prima facie arguments against the existence of God,” and are a moot point.

So, briefly, what are the ways in which theists have sought to unravel the apparent contradiction between these two facts? 

First, some authors have suggested that suffering and evil are part of God’s plan in “building the soul” of a person.  In other words, suffering and evil build endurance, patience, and faith.  If you suffer, you are better for it.  This, of course, is only as satisfying as the extent to which your imagination allows you to be comfortable.  Surely, the suffering that an athlete in training endures is beneficial.  The suffering a mother in child-birth endures is beneficial.  However, do you think that a small child that suffers through Leukemia receives a benefit commensurate to her suffering?  Do you believe that innocent Jews that suffered through the Holocaust and died were benefited from their suffering?  So, the extent of the argument may only be appealing to the extent you see a benefit.  What if, then, the benefit were eternal?

Second, some theists have tried to posit that “evil” is not a thing or being.  It is a result of free will, and so the existence of evil is the consequence of God allowing humanity to have free will.  Consequently, God created humanity in his image, and the result is a free agent that may and does choose to act in morally evil ways.  Thus, the real conflict exists between God’s desire for humanity to reflect his glory, and for his plan for creation to be executed as conceived.  God could force humanity to behave, but he would be violating his own will in providing humanity with a will.  In other words, “good” is only good because evil is an option.

 Third, and finally, the “Need for Natural Laws” is summarized by Michael Tooley:

“first, it is important that events in the world take place in a regular way, since otherwise effective action would be impossible; secondly, events will exhibit regular patters only if they are governed by natural laws; thirdly, if events are governed by natural laws, the operation of those laws will give rise to events that harm individuals; so, fourthly, God’s allowing natural evils is justified because the existence of natural evils is entailed by natural laws, and a world without natural laws would be a much worse world.”

This touches on Christian notions of Original Sin.  When humanity exercised its free will against God’s will, it brought about certain changes in God’s creation that resulted in natural laws and states of affair that created patterns of destruction, violence, and suffering.  Consequently, evil is only a problem in the temporal sense.  Once Christ returns and sets everything to rights, there will be no “problem of evil” of which to speak.  There is an infinitely good, knowledgeable, and powerful God that will have dealt justly with all the suffering and evil caused by humanity’s exertion of free will.

There are others, but I find something interesting in this whole debate.  It is the designation of things and events as either “good” or “evil.”  The reason I find it interesting is because the very notion of a “problem of evil” is designed to express the contradiction between the existence of a Christian God and the events we experience in life.  However, the very language used to conceptualize the problem are dependent on the existence of said “morally good God.”  If God did not exist, then neither would the moral designation of the good over and against that of evil.  If there is no good God, can there even be evil?  Of course, we wonder about the issue of suffering.   What is our justification for giving moral designation to suffering?  Am I suffering when I experience pain?  If God does not exist, how would I have a standard of good by which I could compare the wrongness of suffering or the evilness of violence?  How would an atheist that actually framed the question without presupposing that God exists maintain the tension of the original contradiction?  Assume the atheist position is correct.  There is no God.  We have evolved socially, emotionally, morally, etc.  If the notions of good and evil are both innate to the evolutionary process of humanity, how do we distinguish between them?  Perhaps, I have unfairly changed the topic of the discussion, but I fail to see how the problem of evil exists without the existence of God.  Doesn’t that mean that God has to exist?

 

Day Five: A Day In The Life Of…Me

Ordinarily, people would claim the beginning of their day actually starts with the events that follow sleep.  One goes to bed, one rests for a period (hopefully) of several hours, and then one wakes up in order to go about their day.  Given this hypothesis, my day started exactly twenty-two hours ago.  Every parent with small children will be able to relate.  At midnight, precisely two hours after going to bed, my seven-year old son woke us up with those dreaded words, “I threw up in my bed.”  Nothing signals apocalyptic sleep deprivation quite like those words.  Our two sons share a bedroom downstairs in our split level house.  I suffer from year-long allergies that cripple my ability to smell anything but the most pungent odors during most of the day – I experience olfactory clarity for about two hours after administering a bevy of medications.  As I trudged down the stairs for what I knew was going to be a long night, a smell that can only be described as deeply concerning and possibly inhuman hit me in the face like a hot, wet sheet.  In my dulled state of perceptive awareness, I was not entirely sure that I was smelling what I hoped I was not smelling.  Parents seem to find a little extra hope in even the most dire of circumstances.  Of course, my hopes were dashed once I made into my boys’ room.  The offender’s bed was literally splattered with vomit in a fashion that can only be communicated via scenes from the exorcist.  While the visual scene was horrifying, the bouquet that was opening up in the room spoke of the kind of illness that people have associated with long neglected farm animals.  Many times I was sent running for the front door, gasping for fresh air and praying that I didn’t toss my cookies in a similar fashion.  The details have probably already been gruesome enough, but know this – while my son sleeps the sleep of the innocent tonight on a new mattress, I will be reliving every visceral moment in Technicolor brilliance during recurring nightmares.  I made it back to bed with four hours to sleep before my alarm went off.  My wife and I were out of bed for a total of twenty minutes – practice makes perfect, and my wife and I are practiced at emergency clean up of childhood related wreckage.

At 4:45 am, my alarm went off, and I got up with a certain determination in mind.  I was, for the first time, going to make my commute via a mountain bike and train.  I have driven my commute of 37 miles for ten years.  So, this morning I bundled up as best I could, and took off into the morning moonlight (there’s something I never thought I would say).  It was beautiful.  The moon was full, and I hardly needed my little, blinking LED headlight.  I rode my bike four miles to the train station, successfully boarded, successfully paid my fair, and successful disembarked from the railrunner.  (As a minor aside, a favorite rant of mine is the drama surrounding the railrunner in New Mexico.  Somehow, the notion that a public transportation service losing money has become politically viable.  The wacko right-wing, trickle-downs of New Mexico are all in a lather over the fact that Bill Richardson built a train service that has lost money every year it is in operation.  The way these nuts talk, you would think the train stations and depots were deserted.  When I got to my local station, I had to wait in line to board the train – there are a lot of people depending on this money sink – okay, breathing, not going to rant further…)  I made it to within one mile of my work place, when some lunatic in a truck nearly ran me off the road in an intersection.  Now, if you are a resident of Albuquerque, you know some things about drivers in New Mexico.  Namely, they are the most hate filled, life sucking, d-bags on the face of the planet.  We don’t use blinkers in this city, because people in the lane you want into will prevent you from merging, if they know what you want to do.  We don’t become irate with such practices, because eight out of ten times, the guy that just cut you off will shoot you in the face, if you act aggressively in return.  Consequently, when I cross the street on foot or on transport, I pretend I am playing a live version of frogger with only one life to give.  I just assume that every car on the street is trying to kill me, because some of them are.

Other things you may find interesting about my day: I preached twice, I taught six classes, I read a book, I picked up my first ever pair of glasses, I reconnected with a friend that I have not spent near enough time with over the last few years,  and now as I lie in bed writing I cannot help but think that I love my life.  I would happily my relive day a thousand times.  Here’s to hoping you can find the same joy in the mundane things of your every day life.  Peace of Christ.

 

Day Four: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pt. 1 – A Review and Reflection

I promise to include only one spoiler in this review, and I’ll include it right in the beginning - *Spoiler Alert*- the book is still better than the movie.  Frankly, that’s saying something, because I loved this movie.  While I’m being frank, allow me also to say that I was nonplussed with many elements of the J.K. Rowling’s seventh and final installment of the Potter saga the first time I read it – which should add a little extra chutzpah to my claim that the book is still better.  Those constitute a whole lot of unqualified claims, so allow me to elaborate for a moment. 

First, when I received the book, I received it at my home at the earliest possible moment that Amazon could get it there.  For days leading up to the release, I did not go out and buy it.  I did not watch the television.  I did not listen to the radio.  I surfed the web as if I genuinely appreciated the present danger of the perverts that lurk on the internet.  Perverts that had already been going to all varieties of places, public and private, doing their dead best to leak key plot points that they had stolen.  I was cloistered in my home pacing the floors, waiting for the UPS truck.  When the book finally arrived, I barely restrained myself from kissing the delivery man.  He gave me a wary look that revealed he had already narrowly dodged one too many exuberant outbursts for the day.  I brought the box to the kitchen table, and tore into the package greedily.  I tossed the bubble wrap to my sons as a kind of consolation toy, a weak apology for the fact that daddy would not be interacting with anyone for twenty-four hours. 

I started reading at 5:00 pm on the Saturday after release, and seven hours later my eyes ached and I had to go to bed.  I woke up Sunday morning and groaned at the day ahead of me: church and a pot-luck luncheon where I would have to interact with friends that had bought the book at release thirty-six hours earlier.  I feel guilty now, but had no shame then - I read through the sermon, I read while standing in the foyer “greeting” parishioners.  I made my wife drive, and I read in the car.  After approximately thirteen hours of reading, I finished the book. I will say that next to frantic Greek expositions and theological responses to journal articles, I have never read as voraciously, as determinedly.  It held my attention, and I ached to know what would happen.  No movie has ever had such an impact on me.   However, one thought, more than any other, ran through my head the entire time I was reading: “We’re camping in the forest again?  Seriously?” 

This is a great place to transition to the movie, because this is the kind of pacing issue that the movie handles much better than the book.  The movie opens on an ominous note, the Minister of Magic is assuring the wizarding world that everything is under control.  What ensues, the movie captures better than the book did (at least, what I remember of the book in my paranoia driven, frantic reading of the text); there is an obvious homage being paid to the horrors that befell those on the wrong end of ethnic cleansing in places like Russia and Germany in the twentieth century.  The movie uses props, leaflets and propaganda, which are eerily similar to those of Russian provenance, proclaiming the dangers of life with ”Muggles” and “Mudbloods.” 

In fact, next to the pacing of the lonely foray into camping (and make no mistake, there is still a lull in the middle of the movie for this element) I was most impressed with the movie for bringing new elements into focus.  J.K. Rowling has not received enough acclaim for her clear messages of human rights and social justice.  I have been frustrated with the movies up until TDH part 1, because they seemed to ignore completely the fact that Harry is battling against an ideology of racial supremacy as much as he is battling against “dark” magic.  However, there is gold to be mined in the visual extravaganza that modern movies can produce – and there is no better candidate than the fantasy genre for such displays.  The film is beautiful, like the others, but instead of an action packed, adventure ride, you get a film full of emotional tension.  The film produces a genuine sense of dread; in fact, I felt that some of the flashy, action sequences interrupted the story being told. 

The movie stumbles a little with its focus on the three friends.  Radcliffe, Grint, and Watson perform amiably (actually, one of the movies’ most touching scenes has Radcliffe acting opposite a CGI puppet), but the absence of the supporting cast is felt.  Still, Emma Watson performs the hell out of her role as Hermione.  There is a particularly gut wrenching scene where Bellatrix is torturing Hermione in the Malfoy mansion that left me squirming in my seat. Once the know-it-all, Watson’s Hermione is light years more mature than Harry and Ron, which makes the romance between Ron and Hermione endearing instead of tiresome.  The performances capture a genuine, and deep love between all three friends.

Finally, Dobby the elf steals the movie.  I was sitting in the theater watching Dobby stare the Malfoys down and proclaim that he was a free elf, rescuing his friends, thinking “it’s about time we see this theme in the movies.”  For those that have seen the movie or read the book, you know what happens next.  It was absolutely “the moment” in the film, when he proclaimed that he was with his friends and was finally a happy, free elf.  I cried.  I “misted up,” reading the book – but the scene is done so well that I absolutely cried in the theater.  Though, I did not cry for Dobby as much as I cried for what his sacrifice represented, and I was relieved to finally see the real value of Rowling’s literature played out on the big screen.

 

Day Three – A little fiction: part 1

This bit is a little longer to make up for yesterday.  It is a piece of fiction with which I am toying.  I’ll keep adding to it as inspiration hits.  Of primary interest to me, are comments regarding Ella’s accent.  I’m just not sure about “writing in an accent,” so tell me what you think.

Collin sighed deeply as his eyes drank in the grim display.  Viscera splattered the ceiling and two walls in a corner of the suburban track home.  On the floor, wallowing in the greasy remains lay the culprit.  Lines, deep lines that were etched by fatigue and worry, traced the corners of Collin’s eyes.  If he had seen this once, it was too often – but this was becoming an all too regular occurrence.  Resigning himself to the task at hand, Collin stepped forward and addressed his adversary.

“You know, Aiden, this behavior cannot continue.”

He was met only with a blank stare and a gurgle of satisfaction.

Pressing on Collin said, “I have often told your mother that the devil is in you; seems to me that this is proof enough.”

There was no time for a response as a scream from another part of the house shattered the silence of the grisly scene.

“Collin!  He’s two years old!  If ya keep sayin’ things like tha to ‘im, you’ll warp his brain!”

Ella stormed into the kitchen and snatched Aiden off the floor with all the annoyance that her slight, Irish-American frame could muster.  As quickly as she came, she left toward a running tub of water, giving Collin an icy glare on the way by.

“Will you cut me some slack,” Collin protested, “Did you see the way he disemboweled that burrito?”

“Collin, look at me, Love.  He’s two.”

“He’s a goblin is what he is.  I just mopped this kitchen.”

Ella spun on her heal, Aiden swinging in her arms, to face Collin.  Aiden was the fattest two-year-old anyone had seen in recent memory.  A fact Ella proudly attributed to her militant dedication to breast feeding.  He was covered in bean burrito with strands of melted cheese hanging from his eyebrows, nose and any other feature that dare defy the soft rotundity of his existence.  Ketchup, the culinary condiment du jour of childhood, covered his mouth, hands, and chest so that he looked like a deranged circus clown.

“Jus’ look at ‘im,” Ella pleaded in singsong.

“No!  You look at him.  He looks like he’s devoured some poor beast and bathed in the remains.”  Collin’s affection was betrayed by the broad smile that broke across his face.

“He’s gonna need therapy, and it’s gonna be your fault.”

“My Fault?  I am not the one enabling him with all of this motherly validation.  Just you watch, some day it’ll be Mrs. McCreedy’s cat whose insides he’s disinterred at the kitchen table.”

“I’m gonna wash the baby,” Ella said as she dismissed Collin with a peck on the cheek.  Aiden seized the opportunity to smear ketchup all over Collin’s shirt.

“Just like that, and it’s conversation over?”

“Go downstairs and tuck Dylan in to bed while I get to tha real dirty work,” she paused and continued cautiously, “and, Love, perhaps ya should skip tha bedtime story tonight?”

“S-skip the story, but why?  He loves my stories.”

“Don’ make it ‘bout ya, love.  He’s twelve, don’ ya think he’s gettin a bit old for it?”

“Nah, he loves it.  We always have such a great time.  But, to prove you wrong,” Collin winced at his own words because of the first genuine glare Ella shot him, “Erm, make you feel better, I meant make you feel better.  I’ll ask him.”  He winked hoping to smooth over his challenge to her dictatorial mothering regime.

Bored with the current state of affairs, and annoyed at an exchange that had somehow digressed into a full blown dialogue between parental units, Aiden writhed in Ella’s arms managing to dislodge himself.  He hit the floor with a sickening crack.  Ella hurried to pick him up and console him, but Collin could only gape in disbelief at the screaming toddler with a fresh knot rising on his forehead, then to the reddish brown stain he left on the carpet.

“I just had the carpet cleaned too, you little imp.” Collin said.

“He’s two,” Ella pushed Collin toward the stairs thus bringing to an end the most protracted conversation they’d had in days.

Dylan had already turned off the lights and flung himself unceremoniously onto his bed when Collin came into the room with a single lit candle.  The light it cast played at the corners of the room, throwing unnatural shadows over Dylan’s bed.  Collin paused for a moment to wonder at the man-sized lump before him that sprouted gangly limbs.  It felt like too little time had passed for his first born to be so old, and so large.  Dylan had his mother’s lustrous dark hair, ivory skin, and pouty lips, which had always drawn more envious stares from passing women than was decent.  He was a charismatic person, even at twelve; a fact over which Collin experienced both great pride and great alarm.  The only sure sign that Collin sired the pubescent mass of hormones stretched out before him were an identical pair of steely, gray eyes; which were, at the moment, being pinched tightly together in a rather unconvincing attempt to feign sleep.

“Dylan,” Collin said.

“Mmph.”

“Dylan!” Collin leaned over to shake the boy, spilling candle wax on him and the bed. “Shit!”

“Ouch!  Mom says you shouldn’t talk like that around us,” Dylan said with no hint of sleep in his voice.

“Get up and help me clean this or your mother will have more than a few words for both of us.”

“Dad, can’t we skip the story tonight?  And why do you always bring a candle down with you anyways?  It was only a matter of time before you started burning stuff.”

Collin ignored the first question, seeing his opportunity in the second.

“Ah, a most excellent question you pose, boy,” Collin said speaking mysteriously, “You see, it is ceremonial, um, symbolic.  Light has this miraculous quality.  Even the tiniest flame can repel the most oppressive darkness, but you never really appreciate that until you are swallowed in darkness.  So, having the candle is a visual representation of what a good story can…”

(Aack,) Dylan cut across him with a theatrical yawn, “Doncha’ think you’re being a little dramatic, Dad?”

“So, tonight, we find our hero,” Collin continued undeterred.

“I mean, it’s all a little over the top, come on.”

“Hello!  Telling a bed time story here, shut the hell up and listen, Ingrate.”

“Ya, ‘bout that, do you think we could, uh, well… you know, leave me the hell alone when I am trying to go to sleep.”  Dylan offered his silkiest smile, but it didn’t go over.

“Dammit, where the hell did you learn to talk to people like that?”

“Um, Dad.”

“No, listen, I am sorry I woke you up and burned you with wax, but that is no reason to start treating me like one of your stupid little friends.”

Unwittingly, Collin crossed a line from which he could not return, and Dylan folded his arms over his chest, glowering at his father.

“Unlike you, my friends respect my feelings and listen to what I have to say.  In case you haven’t noticed, I am twelve now, Dad.  I’ll be in high school next year.  I’m, like, a man and stuff now.  I don’t need the embarrassment of a father with too much time on his hands down in my room every night tucking me in like I’m a little baby!”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Collin used a finger to stab at the air in front of Dylan’s chest with every syllable.

“Leave me alone,” Dylan shot back.

“Fine,” Collin bent low to kiss Dylan on the forehead, spilling wax on Dylan’s arm.

“Ouch! Dad!”

“Shit! Sorry!”

“Collin, watch your language!” Ella shouted from the upstairs bathroom, “The whole neighborhood can hear ya, an’ they’ll be callin the cops.”

“Dylan, I’m sorry, I just…”

“Night, Dad.”

“Let me explain, please.”

“I’m tired, goodnight – get out.”

“Goodnight, Son.”

Collin walked slowly out of the room; defeated, feeling silly that he was fighting tears back.  He paused at the door and blew out the candle.  The room was immediately shrouded in darkness.  Collin couldn’t quite overcome the feelings of remorse that overtook him as the darkness blinded his eyes.  He hated conflict, and he hated being the source of a disturbance even more.  Then he heard Dylan’s voice from the recesses of the room.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Son?

“Why do you reek like ketchup?”

“Good night, Son.”  Collin said with a heavy sigh as he walked out of Dylan’s room, though, it wouldn’t be the last time he did.

 

Day Two – On the Importance of Writing

There is little debate among academics that writing constitutes one of the most important skills in life.  Which is all fine and good, if you are an academic.  The real difficulty in proving the point seems to be felt most when trying to convince the lay person of the importance of writing.  The blogging community on the internet has certainly helped.  I have run into many that belong to the blogging community that hone their craft and provide sometimes invaluable perspective that does not emanate from professional or academic sectors.  However, we are still dealing with a segment of the population driven by a proclivity to express themselves in written format.  In other words, you do not need to convince a blogger of the value of written words.  I’ll have to confess, though, that as an educator I am often concerned about what seems to be happening to written language as a society. 

Clearly, I am well behind the curve in voicing this concern.  Perhaps, it is because I am one of those “technological natives,” that I have not been concerned or perplexed by the kind of cyber-shorthand that occurs in mediums like texting and online communication.  In fact, I believe that language in such formats will begin to produce their own versions of literary masterpieces.  And, I will welcome them for all of their artistic value.  Nonetheless, when I ask a student to write an essay, I am often horrified to find that most of them cannot correctly place a comma in a sentence; even if their lives depended on it.  Am I being too bothered?  Is it unreasonable to believe that every human being ought to be able to adequately express themselves in at least their native tongue?  The issue for me extends beyond mere literacy, though.  I am genuinely under the impression that everyone has a story to tell, a narrative in which the rest of us could participate.

How, then, do we convince them to practice writing?  I suppose convincing them of writing’s importance would be the seminal task.  Is writing just useful as a tool for self-expression, or are there other reasons the average person ought to write?  I’ll provide a brief list of reasons I think that everyone should practice writing.  Please, feel free to add your own.

1.  Writing allows you to take a step away from your thoughts.  Once a person experiences a little distance, they can utilize critical methods of evaluation on their own thoughts.  If you are good at articulating your thoughts in writing, you can use it as a tool for self-reflection.

2.  Writing allows you to interact with people without becoming emotional.  Writing can provide a “safe distance” from which you can express your  thoughts or interact critically with others without having the frustration of not being a quick or intuitive speaker.

3.  Writing allows research, ideas, and history to be preserved over time.

4.  Like it or not, writing constitutes the primary means of evaluation in most settings.  Your future academic success, job performance, and personal enrichment will depend heavily on your writing skills.

5.  Writing puts your thoughts into a tangible form that can be edited, reorganized or made more efficient.

6.  Writing provides a reason for you to thoughtfully consider others.  When you are writing you are considering an audience.  If you intend to communicate well, then you are going to spend time reflecting on the characteristics, needs, and communication barriers of your audience.

 

Day One: Ecumenism and the Burden of Theological Language

In the process of discernment for ordination, I have been doing a lot of soul-searching.  I assume most people spend a better portion of their youth deciding what their lives will be about.  Interestingly, since a rather powerful encounter with Jesus at the altar of a youth camp, I have never questioned what my life was about.  A need for specialization has always been prominent in my heart, though.  Throughout college and graduate school, said specialization has taken the form of teaching, and so I have taught.  Nearly three years ago, I decided to make a rather dramatic change in my religious trappings and ended up in the Episcopal Church.  This change has brought great joy, and it has wrought much heartache.  It has also brought a new need for specialization, Ecumenism.  There are, of course, many different influences and alternatives underneath the umbrella of discernment that I am trying to work out in my life (an important one seems to be what my “priestly identity” will be).  Since I’ve never been much for sitting and thinking through a problem privately in order to come to a conclusion, I have been intuitively pursuing this ecumenical need with those around me.  Some efforts have been refreshing, and others have been bitterly disappointing.  Through the last couple of years, though, I have found at least one significant hurdle on the path of bringing unity to the Church – language.

There is a language barrier in Christianity, and it has always existed.  An anthropologist, I am not, so I will not attempt to explicate all of the legitimate reasons cultural and language barriers exist.  However, all of those innnocuous reasons seem to reveal the insidious nature of division in the Church.  In my estimation, the theological language barrier exists in the Church, because exclusion exists in the Church.  Call it what you want, but when a Protestant refuses to allow a Catholic to explain their position in their own terms (…or a Catholic an Orthodox, or and Orthodox a Protestant, etc., et al), because the Protestant some how already knows the answer, then such interaction is no longer about mutual understanding, constructive criticism, or even healthy disagreement – it is about exclusion.  What place has exclusion in the body of Christ?  If there is no male or female, no Jew or Gentile, no master or slave in the body of Christ, how can there be actual division? 

Which is an important point, I think.  If the Church is Christ’s, and he transforms us into a unified body, then there can be no actual division in the actual Church – it is a spiritual law.  So, our problem becomes even more exclusive in nature.  If there is division, it is either only perceived division or those groups that are divided are not the actual Church.  I suppose the larger issue then becomes clear, if Christ is Lord of the Church (read here, “if Christ is your Lord”), then it will conform to his image and his purpose; she is (gasp) predestined to it.  So, by allowing exclusion to take place through the vagueness that occurs in interdisciplinary theological discourse, we are flaunting our unwillingness to conform – we are resisting his Lordship.  Consequently, the Spiritual reality is that Christ’s Church is unified, but we seem to be slow on the uptake.

How, precisely, does this reduce to an issue with language?  Perhaps, an example will be useful.  In a sacramental sense, the Eucharist, Baptism, Marriage, et al are seen as conduits of grace in the lives of Christians.  Ask a Catholic to explain this, and she will most likely give you a rendition of the RC’s teaching that Christ’s work on the cross requires a response in faith from human beings, so that the efficacy of grace can be experienced.  Ask a Protestant to explain this, and he will most likely give you a rendition of the Protestant assertion that an attempt to participate in God’s work of grace actually removes its efficacy; and an attempt to do so constitutes a theological system by which humanity saves itself through empty rituals of righteousness.  If you ever want to be “that guy” at a party just bring this issue up, then sit back and enjoy the show.  Wherein lies the real issue?  Is it really a difference between soteriological systems?  Has one side so grossly misunderstood the clear message of the Gospel?  Has anyone on either side bothered to ask what the other means when they use the term “Grace”?  This is just one example, and it may be a poor one at that.

Are there other issues hindering the work of ecumenism?  Absolutely.  However, I have been left puzzling for the last several years whether any of those would be as prominent, if we would lay down our weapons and work toward a common vocabulary.  Let’s be honest, here – the Orthodox are not going to accept openly homosexual priests any time soon, the Catholics are not going to ordain women any time soon, the Protestants are not going to participate in the Sacraments any time soon.  However, how much closer would we be, if each acknowledged the legitimacy of the others’ Christian walk?  Are the various Christian sects even able to recognize the doctrinal orthodoxy inherent in the others, or has the vocabulary become too much of a barrier?  I recognize that this may only be loosley associated with exclusion as a concept, but language is the origin of behavior.  If I reject certain theological language as being heretical, I cannot disassociate that language from the person sitting in the pew.  If I do not prefer the language that they use to express their faith, then how will I be able to live out unity with their Christian witness?  If I think you teach heresy, by proxy, you are a heretic.  The logic is simple, but few are willing to openly acknowledge it.

Interestingly, it is at this intersection that I find my identity in the discernment process emerging.  I spent my childhood in a nominally Christian home, before having a genuine conversion experience in high school.  I spent my college and graduate school years living a fiercely Evangelical Protestant lifestyle.  As a “convert” to the Anglican tradition, I have a unique perspective.  I understand the language from both sides, and have subsequently received a wound that does not seem to heal.  That wound, of course, is that I see the schism that exclusion is causing, and cannot seem to do anything about it.  The Lord, Jesus Christ, said that we will be known by our love for each other.  I am still trying to find the seemingly implied clause that says, “unless they don’t preach the truth using our vocabulary.”

 

One Thousand Words, One Thousand Days

An interesting thought has struck me.  I have been watching and reading a lot of interesting pieces in the last several months that seem to address a common sensibility.  That sensibility being that you are only ever truly great at something, even if only within your own generation, once you have spent countless hours doing it.  Mastery occurs over a period of time that is basted with hard work and roasted in the heat of determination.  Too often, I have feared writing something, saying something, or doing something, because I had not yet mastered it.  How simply ridiculous of me that was.

So, this idea is a genesis of sorts.  I have already written much, and so I am nearly intelligible to most readers, but as of late I cannot help thinking that Samuel Johnson was actually talking about me when he said,

Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull everywhere. He was dull in a new way, and that made many people think him great.

Problem being, of course, nobody thinks I’m great – save, perhaps, my children and wife, but they feel a sort of obligation toward the notion.  So, clearly, Johnson isn’t talking about me.  Nonetheless, this notion of mine will drive me out of the ashes of obscurity in the minds of those in the “know” and perhaps propel me into the myriad of lesser known wordsmiths floating in the sea of paper that constitutes publishers’ willingness to foist anything on consumers.  Ah, those will be the good old days with which I bore my grandchildren.

Consequently, starting tomorrow (you didn’t expect me to start today did you?!), I will write one thousands words in one thousand days consecutively.  With the intent of writing whatever in the hell falls into my brain, so long as I am writing and I am improving that writing, I will plod along toward the road of mastery.  The best part is that a blog threatens the possibility of an audience, but in reality it is merely a threat.  However, if I pull it off, I will have documented proof.  Will I be better at this after 1,000,000 words fall out of my brain?  Who knows, but it seems an appropriate distraction from the horrendous fashion and music that seems to be popular right now.