Category Archives: Politics

Some Things Make No Sense

Without wavering, I am pro-choice; however, I am in no way supportive of late-term abortion even though I know these abortions are only performed when two doctors agree that actually having the child will endanger the life of the mother. I think my inability to accept the late-term abortion lies in my struggle to believe that no doctor could tell there would be problems before the fetus is viable. Suddenly, at seven months there are problems enough to put the mother’s life in danger? And, I think my (probably unrealizable) desire to have a child interferes with my ability to be rational in this situation.

With that said, I am sad and disappointed at the death of Dr. Tiller. I am continually amazed at the way that people get so blind-sided by their agenda that they do things that seem to be completely incongruous with their agenda. For example, people who are pro-life killing someone because he did his job. What is even more sad to me is the fact that the anti-Tiller rhetoric has not stopped after his death. The man is dead, now, can we leave him alone? I am sure that the pro-life killer sees this as his mission in life, to stop Tiller from performing future abortions. Still this makes no sense to me. Of course, much of what the Christian right does makes no sense to me.

I am trying hard not to judge the killer, because he was obviously doing what he thought was right, just like Dr. Tiller was doing what he thought was right. In much the same way that Dr. Tiller had a family who loved and supported his work, I am sure his killer has a family that loves and supports him, too. These situations are the ones that cause me to consider some tough theological questions:

  • If God is good why is there such evil in the world?
  • If God is in control of all things, how do [They] let such things happen?
  • How can people rationalize killing a living breathing person, when they live their lives to protect the unborn?
  • Why do people act so irrationally?
  • How can I respond to such violent acts with a heart of grace and an attitude of mercy?

One of the other ideas I wrestle with is trying to understand how Christians ever expect to make an impact on this world when we can’t stop the arguing and fighting that goes on within our religion. I mean, Tiller was at church, serving as an usher, when he was killed! Of course, this internal conflict isn’t new; Paul and Barnabas, two of the first Christian theologians/missionaries split up over an even more insignificant conflict (Acts 15). I have often heard Christians complain about each other, and I have often complained about my conservative Christian friends/brothers and sisters in Christ. Why? Because my idea of what it means to be a Christian and how it looks to live that out doesn’t match theirs.

I will never understand the minds or the actions of conservative people, but I can do my part to recognize their role in the kingdom of heaven as it exists on earth. Maybe this rift is part of the already but not yet kingdom of God. We are already made one in Christ, but we cannot yet recognize our similarities and let them outweigh our differences. I may never pray the sinners’ prayer with someone. I will never go to a pro-life rally. I will never march against gay rights. And, I may never vote for a political candidate based on their commitment to Christian values, but I recognize that I need to give grace to those who do. Part of being a Christian, I suppose, is recognizing our differences and then realizing how God’s grace covers a multitude of sins. Mine and yours.

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I got a volunteer job writing reviews for a Christian blogging site. I will be receiving a free new-publication book once a month, and, in return, I have to write a 500 word review of that book. My first one, A People’s History of Christianity by Diana Butler Bass, should be arriving shortly. I get three weeks to read it and post a review. I am excited about this opportunity because it has nothing to do with school and is an opportunity for me to read new theological/spiritual books and write about them purely for the enjoyment of doing so. I miss being immersed in the Church. Would I ever go back to working in a church? Yes, in a heartbeat.

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The purging is going well. I am finding that the hardest things to stay away from are refined sugars and caffeine. I have never realized how hard it is to make food without white sugar, and to keep from drinking caffeinated beverages. I made a huge pitcher of sun tea the other day and forgot that green tea has caffeine in it. I was up until about one in the morning trying to fall asleep!

I am proud to say that I have had no alcohol for the past (almost) three weeks, and I don’t really have the desire for any. Obviously, I really enjoy trying new beers and new drinks, but I can definitely live without them!

I have been reading my bible, but I had to play catch up the other afternoon, because I forgot to read for a couple of days. I took a quilt out on the grass and relaxed in the sunshine while I read. That couple of hours was the most fulfilling afternoon I have had in a while.

Along with all of this purging, I have been thinking about running and much I miss it. I have been walking about 3-5 miles a day, but it is no substitute for running so I have decided to start running again when I get back from vacation. I hope to be able to run all year without getting sick so much over the winter. I think if I maintain my healthy diet, I will be able to achieve this goal. Sometimes I think the food we eat actually makes us sick, but that is for another blog.

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I have been considering taking a Nazarite vow until I am finished with my PhD. While we are on vacation, I will be putting my brother’s hair into dreadlocks. He said that one of the people on the website where he bought his dread-kit decided to put his hair in dreads as part of a Nazarite vow. I respect that commitment. I know that commitment is part of Rastafarianism, which I also respect and am intrigued by because so much of Rasta theology seems right on. I especially like the part where we smoke ganjah as the healing of the nation! I tend to think that if everyone sat around smoking ganjah, or at least hookah, we’d have far fewer problems in this world.

So, I am thinking of taking this Christian, Nazarite vow on my birthday this year, my 35th birthday. I would cut my hair and then let it grow until I finish my PhD. I would abstain from alcohol, caffeine, meat, and sugars until I finish. That would be almost two years, and I didn’t even make it for a whole year the last time. The big plus is the commitment and the fact that I would read through the Bible two whole times during my vow. I am still thinking about it, but it seems like something that draws my spirit.

My new inspiration…

is a seven-year old. His name is Tarak McLain, and he is fabulous. I want to be like him when I grow up.

Bea Arthur

I am mourning the passing of Bea. Check out the articles below.

Click here.

Click here.

Click here.

Click here.

Click here.

The Thursday After Ash Wednesday

It’s Lent. I am not fasting. I am not sure I care.

An alternate title for this post could be: “Just Like Any Other Thursday.”

Let me try to explain. As much as Tom the homeless guy has no physical house, as much as he walks around talking to people that no one else can see, and as much as he has no creature comforts like thick wool socks and gloves that match to keep his hands warm, I have no spiritual place.

I don’t feel like Agape could ever be my church “home.” I go there. I like most of the people. However, I am also pro-choice, pro-gay marriage, not sure I believe in hell, non-fundamentalist, mostly non-evengelical, and unable to commit to the idea that there will be a second-coming of Christ. And I don’t base every decision I make or belief I hold on the “Inerrant Word of God(t).”

“How did you make it through seminary?” you might ask.

“Good question,” I would respond.

Like Tom, I find myself (although not literally) talking to people that no one else can see. I have been on a manic rush—learning that I could be slightly manic came free with my seminary tuition via the psychological evaluations they made us take—for about three weeks now, and although I talk to people who really exist, I am not sure they understand me. I talk too fast. I space out. I jumble my thoughts. God bless Debbie for bearing with me through my independent study with her. And Becky deserves a badge for putting up with me right now.

It isn’t that I haven’t slept in three weeks, because I have, but it is the fact that my sleep comes in small spurts, filled with fitful/unsettling dreams. I would say my last night of good sleep happened before I went to Chicago, before I had my current “am I doing the right thing with my life” crisis, and before I had this, my third round of the amazing English department head and chest cold.

And, about talking to people I can’t see, I sometimes  think I have some strange, otherworldly perception. I frequently see little flashes of what I perceive to be people or spirits lingering about me. I haven’t seen as many in the house we live in, but I think my ability to sense what other people are feeling has increased, and I keep having a recurring dream about one of my professors.

In it, she is trapped in a house that is slowly crumbling and there is no way out. Even though the walls keep falling down, she can never get out. Each time she thinks she is able to get out another wall is standing in her path. Then it crumbles, and she has to run to another part of the house to find another way out. She can’t just leave through the crumbling wall because the actual pieces of the wall are detrimental to her safety. I get the sense that there is heat or a gas building up around her as well. She screams, but I can’t hear what she is screaming. All I can do is watch her suffer. I have tried to re-dream, so that I can get into the dream with her and help her out of the house, but it won’t work.

I am not sure I have ever had a dream like this before about someone I know so superficially. I did have a weird dream about my Aunt Winnie. I dreamed she died on the actual night she died. And, the other night I had a dream about one of my former students. The next day I received an email from her, which wouldn’t be weird if I had conversations with her regularly. But, I don’t. In fact, I haven’t heard from her since I had her in class two semesters ago.

This dream about my professor is different, though, I have had it for about two weeks straight, and then I stopped having it, but I had it again last night. Weird. So that’s my version of talking to people who aren’t actually there. I just have weird dreams and sensations about real people, which are particularly obvious and happen increasingly when I cannot sleep well. Or when, as the professor who read my psych. report said, I am “slightly manic.”

Back to my analogy about Tom’s physical homelessness and my spiritual homelessness, I don’t have the creature comforts that come with finding a perfect spiritual home. I have never been to a church where I feel completely comfortable. I know the point of church isn’t my personal comfort, but I want to be able to be who I am in Christ. I don’t want to have to mask or hide any part of myself in order to feel accepted. It isn’t that I don’t recognize that all of us have areas of spiritual growth and development; it is that I think differently about what those areas might be than the ways other people perceive them.

We know what our behaviors are. We know the bible says. We know where they don’t line up. Church should be about giving grace to people until they do line up, not about doling out condemnation because they don’t align. I don’t believe in tough love; I believe in grace.

For example, I know I should spend more time contemplating scripture. How do I know this? One quick example is Psalm 1: “But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night.” I do not meditate on this law day and night. I barely even look at my bible, nor do I memorize scripture. How then can I meditate day and night? My behavior does not align with what I perceive to be an overarching theme of the Biblical text. I know what I need to do to fix it, now I need the church to provide me with the support to do it.

The same would hold true for an alcoholic. Or a liar. Or a stern parent. Or a woman of ill-repute.

Typically, churches are so consumed with their own agenda (abortion, homosexuality, blah, blah, blah) that they can’t pay any attention to helping their parishioners foster the close relationship with God that is paramount in Christian life. Would we need to talk about abortion if everyone was willing to help an impoverished or single mother raise her child? Would we need to talk about it if we provided birth control education to teenagers? When was the last time you heard a sermon or had a small-group that focused on how we are to keep God’s words hidden in our hearts, so that it can inform our behavior and shape our lives? Come on. Be honest.

This might be a message of grace: through your understanding of and meditation on God’s words, your relationship with [Them] will be strengthened. In turn, you will better understand what God’s love means in this world, and you will be able to pour God’s love out to other people. I mean, if I was a pastor, I would preach about this. This would be the thick wool socks and matching, warm gloves I would give to my congregation.

So, all this to say, I feel like a spiritual homeless person. Does anyone know of any good shelters that will take me in? Mess that I am.

Waiting is Not My Strong Suit

I hate waiting. I think everything should happen instantly.

I should know right now, today, whether or not I have a job for next school year.

I should know right now, today, if I will have an assistantship for the summer.

I should know right now, today, what will be my future.

I’m impatient. I admit it.

If I could know what my future holds, would I chose to see it? Would I want to know if I was going to get hit by a bus tomorrow? Would I want to know that I would live to be 100 years old? Probably not, but I just hate waiting.

I think what I really hate about waiting is the fact that usually when we wait, we are waiting for someone to evaluate us, to tell us what they think of us, or we are waiting for something over which we have absolutely no control. Fate: that whore.

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I woke up at 9 o’clock this morning. I have done nothing productive yet today. I am the biggest slacker. Ever.

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I have never realized how bad day-time television can be. Desperate Housewives is a really bad show.

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I am really fortunate to have so many great professors. I am slowly realizing their value and their influence in my life. I often require a large skillet clanged against my head in order to understand such things. This time, I am getting it by osmosis.

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I do not regret leaving Grace Church. I miss some of the people, my friends. It was good to see people I haven’t seen in ages. It was good to be back in a place that feels like home. It was good to know that in their own disfunctional way the people there still love me. I missed the time I spent there as both a parishioner and a professional.

But, I do not miss the mind games, the old-boys club, or the way some people find it necessary to manipulate others. Particularly I don’t miss a certain “pit-bull with attitude” who has no ability to see the results of his poorly chosen actions.  A promise is a promise. You don’t reneg. Do you really think what you do is okay? Do you even consider how your actions impact others? No. No. No. I don’t think you do. If you did, you would reconsider. If you had as your first interest the salvation of others, you wouldn’t make it continually about you. That is selfish. We are called precisely to be unselfish, to give unconditionally, to give.

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My brother found this saying on a bridge:

Generosity is not measured by how much we give, but by how much we keep.

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I am still wading through wounds suffered in church. My pastor is leaving. I find it difficult to forgive. I find it difficult to find a reason to go to church. I find it difficult to believe. I find it difficult to put my faith in our church hiring someone like David to replace him. I think we may end up with a conservative, middle-aged, homophobic, pro-life misogynist who wants to put Jesus back in our schools. I don’t want to be there for that. I don’t want that.

And, I am not stupid enough to bind my belief in God with my belief in a man. My doubts have nothing to do with David’s leaving. His leaving just picked open old wounds that I have to let heal again. While they heal, I retain my right to be angry with God. So, God, I am angry with you, but I still love you.