As most of my readers know I am a man of that certain age—the age that came to adulthood in the 9/11 era. I have seen faith in God horribly abused, and I’ve tried to figure out what that means.
Ultimately that led me to do an M.Phil. over in Cambridge and study retellings of Genesis 22 from the 2nd century BCE to the 2nd century CE, which eventually became my book An Uncomfortable Bit of Rope.
Since then I’ve gone to seminary and now graduated (with Honors) from LTSP!
The following is a sermon I did for the class Next Level Preaching. I would say it is the current summation of my attempt to make meaning out of the 9/11 era. It is My Testimony to the Fanatics and to the New Atheists:
Monday, June 06, 2011
Friday, April 08, 2011
I have a solution to the budget crisis
I have a solution for the budget crisis!
Let's cut federal funding of Planned Parenthood by 10.5 million dollars and pass a budget.
Why, because the Republicans are worried about all the money we the tax payers pay to fund abortions. In fact they have said that is the one reason they are going to shut down the government.
Well, 3% of what Planned Parenthood does involves abortions (bet you thought it was a lot higher didn't you... the rest involves dealing with cancer and STDs and contraception). So, lets cut 3% of their funding and not shut down the government. Lets make sure my mom can go into work Monday morning.
Peace,
Chris
Let's cut federal funding of Planned Parenthood by 10.5 million dollars and pass a budget.
Why, because the Republicans are worried about all the money we the tax payers pay to fund abortions. In fact they have said that is the one reason they are going to shut down the government.
Well, 3% of what Planned Parenthood does involves abortions (bet you thought it was a lot higher didn't you... the rest involves dealing with cancer and STDs and contraception). So, lets cut 3% of their funding and not shut down the government. Lets make sure my mom can go into work Monday morning.
Peace,
Chris
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
A sermon for this Sunday: We Feed Off of Death, but Jesus Brings Life
Its a strange feeling. I've prepared this sermon and preached it a few weeks back for a Beatitudes Society event, and I'm in the process of memorizing it for a preaching class tomorrow, but I'll not actually preach it in a church.
We Feed Off of Death, but Jesus Brings Life
I would ask this morning that you suspend disbelief and embrace two absurd, perhaps even grotesque, images with me.
Imagine Ezekiel, carried by his britches through space and time—from Babylon to the great and horrifying depths of the valley of the shadow of death. He is surrounded by the corpses of his kin—the bodies not only of his brothers and sisters, but in a real sense the body of his nation, scattered by war, killed through exile, and buried by the destruction of the temple.
And, while God calls out to him, “Oh prophet, can these bones live?” While God speaks into his soul a new word—a new prophecy of comfort to an exiled people—Ezekiel does not listen.
Ezekiel, instead, gathers in these dried bones and melts them down, stirs them together, and feeds off of them.
Imagine too that Jesus has just affirmed to his disciples that he is returning to the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, in Judea. The disciples have decided to follow after him—after all that’s what disciples do.
Yet as they go they get to talking… and Thomas says to Peter.
“What do you suppose the odds are that Jesus can make Lazarus live again?”
“50/50,” Peter responds.
“I’ll get in on that bet,” replies James.
Simon the Zealot puts down 3 drachma’s on death winning, while the sons of Zebedee pool their money and put their shekels on life–Judas collects bets…. In short they bet on life and death.
Grotesque, right? Absurd, right? Not what the prophet and the gospel are about, right? Ultimately death affirming, whereas our scriptures today are life affirming, right?
Yet the society and world we live in, the way of life that we are all to greater and lesser extents enmeshed in, is this grotesque, absurd, anti-prophetic, anti-gospel, death affirming way of… life.
If you would think critically with me for a moment on the word fossil fuel you will see where I’m going.
Fossil-fuel.
Fossil fuel.
What are fossils if not dry bones. What are fossils if not decayed corpses. What are fossils if not the remains of that which came before us. What are fossils if not death.
With regard to the use of fossil fuel—which accounts for 86% of the world’s energy—we are feeding off of death. We are living off of decayed corpses.
But that’s not all—we not only live off of deaths in the past, we also live off a dangerous and deadly gamble.
I was once told that the scientists involved in the first nuclear tests came up with a worrying calculation. After having run theoretical models about what was likely to happen when they detonated the first nuclear bomb, they came up with some odds. There was a 10 percent chance that blowing up a nuclear bomb would cause earth’s atmosphere to catch on fire. In other words, there was a 1 in 10 chance that by testing this bomb the scientists would end all life on earth, creating out of it a flaming barren and dead world. There was a 1 in 10 chance that their actions would have killed everyone and everything
As evidenced by my standing here and talking to you we know that they won their gamble.
Yet I cannot shake the image of a hellish inferno—the air we breathe, the atmosphere we live under—all burning, drying up lakes and rivers, oceans and… everything and everyone, in an instant. I can’t shake the image of being surrounded by death.
With regard to the use of nuclear power we are feeding off of death. We have built our life upon a world-ending gamble.
We feed off of death.
Yet these absurd and grotesque images of an anti-Ezekiel and an anti-Gospel—though manifest in our actions, are not the content of our creed, are not the Word of the Lord for us today.
No… No today we feel the rhythmic rattle of bone returning to bone. We see new sinew stretched out upon dry bones. We feel the breath of the four winds breathing life.
And not only that. We see Jesus marching through disciples and friends who are fixated on death. We are led by him to the tomb. We are commanded by him to remove the stone and unbind the cloth that has enwrapped dear Lazarus.
We feed off death, but Jesus calls us to life and Jesus brings life.
Jesus calls us to life.
He calls us to a life of discipleship—to repentance from the absurd and grotesque realities we have wrought upon this earth. To prophetic words and actions that reconnect bone to bone and to the removing of stones and unbinding of grave-cloth.
He calls us to vocation, to voice, and to tithe.
What does vocation mean? It simply means the material things we do ought to align with the love of God through the responsible service of our neighbor.
Now, you might be expecting me to say that means we all have to quit our jobs and go out and become environmental activists—that that type of job would be the only holy vocation—but that would be as foolish as the assumption in Luther’s era that the only holy vocation was the priesthood. But truth be told we need CEOs, engineers, and all kinds of people working ethically.
When I look at some of the worst excesses and accidents of death consuming energy—I am struck that if there had just been a few more people acting like Christians while on the job—if they had considered their neighbor while they worked—they wouldn’t have happened.
If the engineers working for TEPCO, the company that runs the nuclear plants that are currently destabilized in Japan, if they had considered the potential effects their actions would have upon their neighbors, they might not have submitted 100s of false safety reports to government safety inspectors.
Likewise, if CEOs and contractors who made decisions about cost-cutting measures on the Deepwater Horizon oilrig in the gulf had considered the people and the planet—11 men and a whole eco-system would still be alive.
What do I mean by voice? I mean that Christians need to lift our voice in the public square around issues of energy. Our witness must not be that of a pie-in-the-sky-until-you-die people. No—if we are to be faithful we must be a voice that consistently says:
“we are salt and light to the world, the world needs us, and we have a word and a way for you… and not just about matters of the soul, not just matters of abstraction—but on matters of consumption, of what type and what kind of energy we use, of where we build pollution creating plants—in whose neighborhoods and in whose back yards we bury nuclear waste.”
We mustn’t be afraid to voice our vision and express our ethical tradition to our neighbors.
What does tithing have to do with the energy you may ask.
Well, since 1993 the ELCA has expanded our understanding of what it means to tithe of our time, talent, and possessions.
Not only are we called to tithe 10% of our income to the Church, but also called to tithe environmentally—to produce 10% less waste and consume 10% less non-renewable resources.
Our vocation, voice, and tithe are all ways to follow Christ’s calling to life.
But Jesus doesn’t just call us to life, he also brings life.
Our discipleship, our actions in the face of a grotesque and absurd system that feeds on death—is a meager thing. It is a small mouse standing up valiantly before a hungry lion.
Except that God is here—Jesus is here.
Ezekiel prophecies to the bones, but it is God who knits them together. Lazarus’ tomb and wrappings are removed, but it is Jesus who brings him back to life.
Surrounded by death the Resurrection and the Life is here with us.
We feed off death, but Jesus calls us to life and Jesus brings life.
Amen.
We Feed Off of Death, but Jesus Brings Life
I would ask this morning that you suspend disbelief and embrace two absurd, perhaps even grotesque, images with me.
Imagine Ezekiel, carried by his britches through space and time—from Babylon to the great and horrifying depths of the valley of the shadow of death. He is surrounded by the corpses of his kin—the bodies not only of his brothers and sisters, but in a real sense the body of his nation, scattered by war, killed through exile, and buried by the destruction of the temple.
And, while God calls out to him, “Oh prophet, can these bones live?” While God speaks into his soul a new word—a new prophecy of comfort to an exiled people—Ezekiel does not listen.
Ezekiel, instead, gathers in these dried bones and melts them down, stirs them together, and feeds off of them.
Imagine too that Jesus has just affirmed to his disciples that he is returning to the house of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, in Judea. The disciples have decided to follow after him—after all that’s what disciples do.
Yet as they go they get to talking… and Thomas says to Peter.
“What do you suppose the odds are that Jesus can make Lazarus live again?”
“50/50,” Peter responds.
“I’ll get in on that bet,” replies James.
Simon the Zealot puts down 3 drachma’s on death winning, while the sons of Zebedee pool their money and put their shekels on life–Judas collects bets…. In short they bet on life and death.
Grotesque, right? Absurd, right? Not what the prophet and the gospel are about, right? Ultimately death affirming, whereas our scriptures today are life affirming, right?
Yet the society and world we live in, the way of life that we are all to greater and lesser extents enmeshed in, is this grotesque, absurd, anti-prophetic, anti-gospel, death affirming way of… life.
If you would think critically with me for a moment on the word fossil fuel you will see where I’m going.
Fossil-fuel.
Fossil fuel.
What are fossils if not dry bones. What are fossils if not decayed corpses. What are fossils if not the remains of that which came before us. What are fossils if not death.
With regard to the use of fossil fuel—which accounts for 86% of the world’s energy—we are feeding off of death. We are living off of decayed corpses.
But that’s not all—we not only live off of deaths in the past, we also live off a dangerous and deadly gamble.
I was once told that the scientists involved in the first nuclear tests came up with a worrying calculation. After having run theoretical models about what was likely to happen when they detonated the first nuclear bomb, they came up with some odds. There was a 10 percent chance that blowing up a nuclear bomb would cause earth’s atmosphere to catch on fire. In other words, there was a 1 in 10 chance that by testing this bomb the scientists would end all life on earth, creating out of it a flaming barren and dead world. There was a 1 in 10 chance that their actions would have killed everyone and everything
As evidenced by my standing here and talking to you we know that they won their gamble.
Yet I cannot shake the image of a hellish inferno—the air we breathe, the atmosphere we live under—all burning, drying up lakes and rivers, oceans and… everything and everyone, in an instant. I can’t shake the image of being surrounded by death.
With regard to the use of nuclear power we are feeding off of death. We have built our life upon a world-ending gamble.
We feed off of death.
Yet these absurd and grotesque images of an anti-Ezekiel and an anti-Gospel—though manifest in our actions, are not the content of our creed, are not the Word of the Lord for us today.
No… No today we feel the rhythmic rattle of bone returning to bone. We see new sinew stretched out upon dry bones. We feel the breath of the four winds breathing life.
And not only that. We see Jesus marching through disciples and friends who are fixated on death. We are led by him to the tomb. We are commanded by him to remove the stone and unbind the cloth that has enwrapped dear Lazarus.
We feed off death, but Jesus calls us to life and Jesus brings life.
Jesus calls us to life.
He calls us to a life of discipleship—to repentance from the absurd and grotesque realities we have wrought upon this earth. To prophetic words and actions that reconnect bone to bone and to the removing of stones and unbinding of grave-cloth.
He calls us to vocation, to voice, and to tithe.
What does vocation mean? It simply means the material things we do ought to align with the love of God through the responsible service of our neighbor.
Now, you might be expecting me to say that means we all have to quit our jobs and go out and become environmental activists—that that type of job would be the only holy vocation—but that would be as foolish as the assumption in Luther’s era that the only holy vocation was the priesthood. But truth be told we need CEOs, engineers, and all kinds of people working ethically.
When I look at some of the worst excesses and accidents of death consuming energy—I am struck that if there had just been a few more people acting like Christians while on the job—if they had considered their neighbor while they worked—they wouldn’t have happened.
If the engineers working for TEPCO, the company that runs the nuclear plants that are currently destabilized in Japan, if they had considered the potential effects their actions would have upon their neighbors, they might not have submitted 100s of false safety reports to government safety inspectors.
Likewise, if CEOs and contractors who made decisions about cost-cutting measures on the Deepwater Horizon oilrig in the gulf had considered the people and the planet—11 men and a whole eco-system would still be alive.
What do I mean by voice? I mean that Christians need to lift our voice in the public square around issues of energy. Our witness must not be that of a pie-in-the-sky-until-you-die people. No—if we are to be faithful we must be a voice that consistently says:
“we are salt and light to the world, the world needs us, and we have a word and a way for you… and not just about matters of the soul, not just matters of abstraction—but on matters of consumption, of what type and what kind of energy we use, of where we build pollution creating plants—in whose neighborhoods and in whose back yards we bury nuclear waste.”
We mustn’t be afraid to voice our vision and express our ethical tradition to our neighbors.
What does tithing have to do with the energy you may ask.
Well, since 1993 the ELCA has expanded our understanding of what it means to tithe of our time, talent, and possessions.
Not only are we called to tithe 10% of our income to the Church, but also called to tithe environmentally—to produce 10% less waste and consume 10% less non-renewable resources.
Our vocation, voice, and tithe are all ways to follow Christ’s calling to life.
But Jesus doesn’t just call us to life, he also brings life.
Our discipleship, our actions in the face of a grotesque and absurd system that feeds on death—is a meager thing. It is a small mouse standing up valiantly before a hungry lion.
Except that God is here—Jesus is here.
Ezekiel prophecies to the bones, but it is God who knits them together. Lazarus’ tomb and wrappings are removed, but it is Jesus who brings him back to life.
Surrounded by death the Resurrection and the Life is here with us.
We feed off death, but Jesus calls us to life and Jesus brings life.
Amen.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
“Philosophical language about Sameness and Otherness lacks nuance. It is like using a shovel to turn a screw.”
Socrates and Sven continued to walk.
That morning the way was packed and the air cold. There was not a cloud in the sky; the sun seemed to bounce along the cold air. Day laborers walked by, their tools clinking at their sides in an awake rhythm, and their breath came out in white puffs. Women with head coverings as colorful as the fruit they bore in baskets carried between them, passed by.
Socrates: Look at them go. What do they know of one another?
Sven: Nothing. The laborer doesn’t trade his labor for fruit, instead they all go to a middle-man.
They entered a village. Streams of people surrounded them.
Socrates: Such a rude grown-up you’ve become Sven… What I was going to say is that they know much. They all know one another as beings derived from the same stuff, the same set of urges and emotions—the same blood the same flesh. Because of the big universal “man” that is all of them they are able to relate in amazing ways, in ways that make sense… In each of them lies the capacity of all. That’s why the meat seller there…(Socrates pointed to a skinny man with oriental features.)
Socrates: Can talk with… no… can marry, that woman. (Socrates pointed to a red haired European woman with a bucket of water on her head.
Sven: That’s unimportant. That’s banal stuff. What really matters, what really could make their lives better involves distribution of their products and it involves giving them a voice in city planning. Look at this market (Sven smiled, he felt he was playing Socrates game well) It is disorganized.
And in truth the market was—fruit next to chocolate next to wagon parts next to beer.
Socrates: Ah. You are much wiser than I, with your Empiricism and critique. You do not need a mentor.
And with that Socrates stepped back from the Way. Sven stepped forward. Socrates was gone amongst the crowd of people.
That morning the way was packed and the air cold. There was not a cloud in the sky; the sun seemed to bounce along the cold air. Day laborers walked by, their tools clinking at their sides in an awake rhythm, and their breath came out in white puffs. Women with head coverings as colorful as the fruit they bore in baskets carried between them, passed by.
Socrates: Look at them go. What do they know of one another?
Sven: Nothing. The laborer doesn’t trade his labor for fruit, instead they all go to a middle-man.
They entered a village. Streams of people surrounded them.
Socrates: Such a rude grown-up you’ve become Sven… What I was going to say is that they know much. They all know one another as beings derived from the same stuff, the same set of urges and emotions—the same blood the same flesh. Because of the big universal “man” that is all of them they are able to relate in amazing ways, in ways that make sense… In each of them lies the capacity of all. That’s why the meat seller there…(Socrates pointed to a skinny man with oriental features.)
Socrates: Can talk with… no… can marry, that woman. (Socrates pointed to a red haired European woman with a bucket of water on her head.
Sven: That’s unimportant. That’s banal stuff. What really matters, what really could make their lives better involves distribution of their products and it involves giving them a voice in city planning. Look at this market (Sven smiled, he felt he was playing Socrates game well) It is disorganized.
And in truth the market was—fruit next to chocolate next to wagon parts next to beer.
Socrates: Ah. You are much wiser than I, with your Empiricism and critique. You do not need a mentor.
And with that Socrates stepped back from the Way. Sven stepped forward. Socrates was gone amongst the crowd of people.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Oedipus in 8 minutes, using vegetables
Veggy Tales this is not--but rather good none the less... warning there is a vegetable "sex scene"
Oedipus ...starring vegetables (2004) short film in HD from jason wishnow on Vimeo.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Born on Nine Eleven (a late thought on Tucson and Egypt)
As has been widely noted Christina Green was born on 9/11, she was featured as a “face of hope.” That her life was bracketed by violence in such a way has some spiritual significance; it also says something to and about our present reality!
I believe it says something about a whole generation born into a world that has been set on edge by violence and threats of violence their entire life. Their lives have been enveloped in the War on Terror—worry about religious radicals and dirty bombs, the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, torture at Abu Ghraib, easily accessible videos of Nick Berg’s head being hacked off, the Mumbai attacks—they have never known what it is like for America to be at peace! Having entered into young adulthood when Christina was born I can only feel an echo of what this time we live in does to the impressionable and young by these events certain cynical scaring of my own soul.
Four days before the shooting in Tuscon, Salmaan Taseer, the Governor of Punjab province in Pakistan was assassinated for standing up to extremism. I felt bad for the loss of a good man, yes, but it fit into the larger story of this last decade—the triumph of violence, so I simply shrug and thought, “Violence is essential to being human. Hobbes was wrong, it is not that the state of nature is nasty brutish and short—it is that we are.”
Yet, when I first received a text about the attempted assassination of Representative Giffords I was still shocked and sickened, and I thank God for that! My shock means my heart is not entirely recalcitrant to violence.
And now that we know more fully what happened that day in that parking lot I am impressed by the counterweight that this particular story has to the larger story of violence Christina’s generation has lived with. There were too many instances of people laying down their life for another—spouse shielding spouse—to ignore. I see soul force meeting physical force. I am reminded that self-sacrifice—sacrificial love—too is embedded in our soul.
And this helps me to look at the world around me again. It helps me to shake off the depressing narrative that has built up. It helps me raise my head up and look at those standing against violence and for mutuality and understanding. It helps me to look again at the world around us and find some hope. I draws my attention anew to another international event that happened two days before the Tuscon shooting.
On New Years Eve there was a deadly attack by Muslim extremists against a Coptic Church in Alexandria Egypt. On January 6th, Coptic Christmas Eve, Egyptians from all over the country, anticipating more attacks on Coptic Christians, attended Christmas Eve Mass. This may seem a small thing, but it conveys a collective heroism on the same level as Judge Roll pushing Mr. Barber out of the way of Jared Loughner’s bullets costing him his life. These Egyptians too offered their lives to protect others. They too, in a faithful and courageous way, met physical force with soul force.
Therefore, while I am in full agreement with the President that we should live up to the democratic idealism of Christina Green, I can’t stop there. I believe we have a deep and abiding responsibility to be an anti-violent witness to Christina’s generation. We must speak of historical counter-narratives to the violent story that has plagued her decade. We must point to, and lift up, present instances of ethical behavior and faithful reconciliation. We ourselves must speak, behave, and be, a counterbalance to the ballest and burden of violence that marked Christina’s beginning and her end.
I believe it says something about a whole generation born into a world that has been set on edge by violence and threats of violence their entire life. Their lives have been enveloped in the War on Terror—worry about religious radicals and dirty bombs, the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, torture at Abu Ghraib, easily accessible videos of Nick Berg’s head being hacked off, the Mumbai attacks—they have never known what it is like for America to be at peace! Having entered into young adulthood when Christina was born I can only feel an echo of what this time we live in does to the impressionable and young by these events certain cynical scaring of my own soul.
Four days before the shooting in Tuscon, Salmaan Taseer, the Governor of Punjab province in Pakistan was assassinated for standing up to extremism. I felt bad for the loss of a good man, yes, but it fit into the larger story of this last decade—the triumph of violence, so I simply shrug and thought, “Violence is essential to being human. Hobbes was wrong, it is not that the state of nature is nasty brutish and short—it is that we are.”
Yet, when I first received a text about the attempted assassination of Representative Giffords I was still shocked and sickened, and I thank God for that! My shock means my heart is not entirely recalcitrant to violence.
And now that we know more fully what happened that day in that parking lot I am impressed by the counterweight that this particular story has to the larger story of violence Christina’s generation has lived with. There were too many instances of people laying down their life for another—spouse shielding spouse—to ignore. I see soul force meeting physical force. I am reminded that self-sacrifice—sacrificial love—too is embedded in our soul.
And this helps me to look at the world around me again. It helps me to shake off the depressing narrative that has built up. It helps me raise my head up and look at those standing against violence and for mutuality and understanding. It helps me to look again at the world around us and find some hope. I draws my attention anew to another international event that happened two days before the Tuscon shooting.
On New Years Eve there was a deadly attack by Muslim extremists against a Coptic Church in Alexandria Egypt. On January 6th, Coptic Christmas Eve, Egyptians from all over the country, anticipating more attacks on Coptic Christians, attended Christmas Eve Mass. This may seem a small thing, but it conveys a collective heroism on the same level as Judge Roll pushing Mr. Barber out of the way of Jared Loughner’s bullets costing him his life. These Egyptians too offered their lives to protect others. They too, in a faithful and courageous way, met physical force with soul force.
Therefore, while I am in full agreement with the President that we should live up to the democratic idealism of Christina Green, I can’t stop there. I believe we have a deep and abiding responsibility to be an anti-violent witness to Christina’s generation. We must speak of historical counter-narratives to the violent story that has plagued her decade. We must point to, and lift up, present instances of ethical behavior and faithful reconciliation. We ourselves must speak, behave, and be, a counterbalance to the ballest and burden of violence that marked Christina’s beginning and her end.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Gender equality and crying
As we all know “Boys don’t cry” yet it would seem there are exceptions… Glenn Beck and John Boehner. Now, I’m not going to suggest these right wing leaders (and make no mistake Glenn Beck is a leader of the Right) are “girlymen” or crybabies. No, I want to know why their tendency to cry in public has not been ran up a flag pole and pointed to as an example of unelectibility, brittleness, a lack of seriousness, inability to be a leader, etc?
Specifically, I wonder this because there was another politician who cried and was darn near crucified for it. Hillary Clinton, now secretary of state, teared up in a coffee shop during her primary campaign. This was front page news, CNN and Fox were fixated on maybe a milliliter of liquid on Hillary’s cheek. By contrast Glenn Beck has cried a river and Rep. Boehner at least a cup. What is the difference? Perhaps it is that Hillary is a Democrat, after all Ed Muskie, another Democrat, was brought down by being caught with moisture on his cheeks while defending his wife from nasty personal attacks. If this is the case donkeys cry because they are overly sensitive and weak on defense, whereas elephants cry because they are passionate.
Yet I would like to suggest another possibility—Hillary was singled out in a way two men involved in politics were not because she is a woman. There is still a assumption that women are more emotional than men, and that emotionalism might cloud a female leader’s judgment. Thus Hillary’s tears validated this stereotype.
This is an additional burden female leaders bear, not only must they be good at what they do, but they need to go out of their way to be the opposite of gender stereotypes. At the same time male leaders can have an out and out cry-fest without fear of electorial repercussions.
Any thoughts?
Specifically, I wonder this because there was another politician who cried and was darn near crucified for it. Hillary Clinton, now secretary of state, teared up in a coffee shop during her primary campaign. This was front page news, CNN and Fox were fixated on maybe a milliliter of liquid on Hillary’s cheek. By contrast Glenn Beck has cried a river and Rep. Boehner at least a cup. What is the difference? Perhaps it is that Hillary is a Democrat, after all Ed Muskie, another Democrat, was brought down by being caught with moisture on his cheeks while defending his wife from nasty personal attacks. If this is the case donkeys cry because they are overly sensitive and weak on defense, whereas elephants cry because they are passionate.
Yet I would like to suggest another possibility—Hillary was singled out in a way two men involved in politics were not because she is a woman. There is still a assumption that women are more emotional than men, and that emotionalism might cloud a female leader’s judgment. Thus Hillary’s tears validated this stereotype.
This is an additional burden female leaders bear, not only must they be good at what they do, but they need to go out of their way to be the opposite of gender stereotypes. At the same time male leaders can have an out and out cry-fest without fear of electorial repercussions.
Any thoughts?
Friday, January 21, 2011
Saturday, January 08, 2011
Giffords speaks about violence!
Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Rereading books
I have a confession, with the exception of the Bible and a few other books I do not re-read books.
I guess I always felt like I got the basics of what I read the first time so why do it again. I do not want you to think I am ill-educated, I have read from Hitchens to Hesse, Aeschylus to Ellison, Dickenson to Kazantzakis, the Quran to the Bhagavad gita. Yet something is missing.
As I prepare for a life outside the ivory/tagua tower I am beginning to feel a certain poverty of my education, in that the width of my education far outstrips its depth in most areas.
I think of my mother, who can rattle off poetry she memorized in the 3rd grade and has kept close to her heart all these years hence. I hear of people returning to this work or that work (often times Shakespeare) every year to see how it reads after this experience or that experience, and I am jealous.
I think of the conserving and centering force of this task, the digging and redigging of trenches in the mind. Perhaps rereading is like morning suffrages, but for the intellect.
And so, dear readers, I would like to know what book(s) you reread yearly?
For that matter what is the proper nature of re-readable books? Is it just something you like, something that has touched you a certain way, is it edifying, short? What?
As for me I am compiling a list of potential books to reread, here are ten:
Jesus and the Disinherited
Mimensis
The Screwtape Letters
Night
Freedom of a Christian
All the King’s Men
The Sound and the Fury
Invisible Man
Victoria
The Pastor
Peace,
Chris
I guess I always felt like I got the basics of what I read the first time so why do it again. I do not want you to think I am ill-educated, I have read from Hitchens to Hesse, Aeschylus to Ellison, Dickenson to Kazantzakis, the Quran to the Bhagavad gita. Yet something is missing.
As I prepare for a life outside the ivory/tagua tower I am beginning to feel a certain poverty of my education, in that the width of my education far outstrips its depth in most areas.
I think of my mother, who can rattle off poetry she memorized in the 3rd grade and has kept close to her heart all these years hence. I hear of people returning to this work or that work (often times Shakespeare) every year to see how it reads after this experience or that experience, and I am jealous.
I think of the conserving and centering force of this task, the digging and redigging of trenches in the mind. Perhaps rereading is like morning suffrages, but for the intellect.
And so, dear readers, I would like to know what book(s) you reread yearly?
For that matter what is the proper nature of re-readable books? Is it just something you like, something that has touched you a certain way, is it edifying, short? What?
As for me I am compiling a list of potential books to reread, here are ten:
Jesus and the Disinherited
Mimensis
The Screwtape Letters
Night
Freedom of a Christian
All the King’s Men
The Sound and the Fury
Invisible Man
Victoria
The Pastor
Peace,
Chris
Friday, December 10, 2010
What if we’ll have the poor with us always because we keep stealing from them?
I was reading John 12:6-8 today and was struck by something. Judas is admonishing Mary for pouring expensive perfume on Jesus because the money could have been given to the poor. Then there is a parenthetical statement that Judas didn’t really care for the poor, but was stealing from the common purse. Then Jesus responds, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”
This last verse has been used to justify regressive taxation and to attack the welfare state and attempts to create economic justice and equality. The argument is, at base, “there will always be poor folk, Jesus, who knows all, and is all, says so!” Therefore attempting to tweak economic and social systems to lessen or even end poverty is silly, futile, and maybe even dangerous and demonic.
In response to this, I believe it is Brian McLaren who says, “No! Jesus’ focus in this statement is that the poor will be with you!” That is, you will always be confronted with the needy neighbor on your doorstep—so living in gated communities, or in ways that you are not always struck by poverty, is wrong, unnatural, immoral, and maybe dangerous and demonic.
Today though, I am struck with another possibility. Jesus is saying stealing from the poor, as Judas does, will keep the poor in poverty. Or to state it another way, we will know theft of the inheritance of the poor by wolves in sheep’s clothing has stopped when poverty stops.
Now, this interpretation was hard for me to come to, because when I come to the gospel’s treatment of Judas I do so with a hermeneutic of suspicion. In general, I feel that where the gospels demonize (sometimes literally) Judas they are making rhetorical points, not describing a historical reality. As Christological claims increased in the early Christian community Judas’ betrayal became a greater and greater problem until the only solution available was “he’s a demon.” After all, if we didn’t get that Jesus was the Messiah—the Christ—the Son of God—God enfleshed—perhaps we also did not see Judas for what he was—in it for the money—a betrayer from the beginning—possessed.
All that to say I generally read descriptions such as this one accusing Judas of intending to steal from the poor with some hesitancy. I think it is a bias of the author. For the author Judas could not simply have been disillusioned by Jesus, Judas must have been a demon-possessed thief.
But, because I came with this suspicion I did not, in previous readings, make the connection between theft by Judas and the continued poverty of the poor. We will have the poor with us always because people, in making pious claims about helping the poor, but in fact enriching the rich/themselves, taking wealth from the commonwealth.
This last verse has been used to justify regressive taxation and to attack the welfare state and attempts to create economic justice and equality. The argument is, at base, “there will always be poor folk, Jesus, who knows all, and is all, says so!” Therefore attempting to tweak economic and social systems to lessen or even end poverty is silly, futile, and maybe even dangerous and demonic.
In response to this, I believe it is Brian McLaren who says, “No! Jesus’ focus in this statement is that the poor will be with you!” That is, you will always be confronted with the needy neighbor on your doorstep—so living in gated communities, or in ways that you are not always struck by poverty, is wrong, unnatural, immoral, and maybe dangerous and demonic.
Today though, I am struck with another possibility. Jesus is saying stealing from the poor, as Judas does, will keep the poor in poverty. Or to state it another way, we will know theft of the inheritance of the poor by wolves in sheep’s clothing has stopped when poverty stops.
Now, this interpretation was hard for me to come to, because when I come to the gospel’s treatment of Judas I do so with a hermeneutic of suspicion. In general, I feel that where the gospels demonize (sometimes literally) Judas they are making rhetorical points, not describing a historical reality. As Christological claims increased in the early Christian community Judas’ betrayal became a greater and greater problem until the only solution available was “he’s a demon.” After all, if we didn’t get that Jesus was the Messiah—the Christ—the Son of God—God enfleshed—perhaps we also did not see Judas for what he was—in it for the money—a betrayer from the beginning—possessed.
All that to say I generally read descriptions such as this one accusing Judas of intending to steal from the poor with some hesitancy. I think it is a bias of the author. For the author Judas could not simply have been disillusioned by Jesus, Judas must have been a demon-possessed thief.
But, because I came with this suspicion I did not, in previous readings, make the connection between theft by Judas and the continued poverty of the poor. We will have the poor with us always because people, in making pious claims about helping the poor, but in fact enriching the rich/themselves, taking wealth from the commonwealth.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
An oldie but a goodie: "What kind of Lutheran are you?" quiz
I made this while serving in YAGM over in England. It is kind of fun, as I am in my last year of seminary, to look back and see where I was at theologically then.
Peace,
Chris
Peace,
Chris
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Being Bi-vocational
So, one of the things ELCAers going through the candidacy process have been told as of late is that they need to be prepared to be “bi-vocational.”
I would like to stir up the pot a little bit. When we are told that we need to be bi-vocational are we really being told that we need a second job?
If I remember my reformation history accurately part of the revolutionary nature Luther’s teaching was his understanding of vocation. In a sense the medieval church eschewed uni-vocational ministry; or to put it another way bi-vocationality was impossible in that system. By this I mean the only job that was “spiritual” the only job that was actually fulfilling God’s will and calling upon a person’s life was that of the priest.
Luther’s response to this was that a father changing a child’s diaper was as holy as the prayers of a whole monastery of monks. It was a re-capturing of the noble spiritual truth that when we serve our neighbor we also serve God. All of a sudden being a baker, a banker, a mother, a father, a husband, a plumber, or a social worker were all vocations—they were all jobs of spiritual worth, all jobs we are called by God to do because they serve a common good, a communal neighbor, and thus serve Christ and his Gospel.
Thus I have four questions I believe to be worth discussing:
1. So why is it that only now, when there aren’t enough full-time calls for Lutheran pastors, that the ELCA is calling us to discern a second vocation?
2. For that matter what does this “bi-vocational” language say to pastors who are fathers and mothers? GED certifiers? Volunteers of all sorts? What if a pastor has discerned that God has called him to be a pastor, God has called him to volunteer at a homeless shelter, God has called him to be a husband, and God has called him to be a father? That’s four vocations already! Four holy callings upon a man’s life!
3. The lifestyle of a pastor makes maintaining other vocations, such as parent and spouse, hard to do (http://www.pastorburnout.com/pastor-burnout-statistics.html http://www.desperatepreacher.com/pastorcare/intro_clergyfamily.htm) why is the ELCA only concerned with a clergyperson’s other vocations once it involves money? (As a side-note yes I am aware of the wholeness wheel http://www.elca.org/Growing-In-Faith/Vocation/Rostered-Leadership/Leadership-Support/Health/Wholeness-Wheel.aspx)
4. For that matter, when we discuss lay-folk and non-ordination track folk we lessen the use of this language of vocation. Why is it only when the work life of ordained-folk is concerned that we trot out this language of vocation?
I guess it seems that as a church it is important to call things what they are.
Peace,
Chris Halverson
I would like to stir up the pot a little bit. When we are told that we need to be bi-vocational are we really being told that we need a second job?
If I remember my reformation history accurately part of the revolutionary nature Luther’s teaching was his understanding of vocation. In a sense the medieval church eschewed uni-vocational ministry; or to put it another way bi-vocationality was impossible in that system. By this I mean the only job that was “spiritual” the only job that was actually fulfilling God’s will and calling upon a person’s life was that of the priest.
Luther’s response to this was that a father changing a child’s diaper was as holy as the prayers of a whole monastery of monks. It was a re-capturing of the noble spiritual truth that when we serve our neighbor we also serve God. All of a sudden being a baker, a banker, a mother, a father, a husband, a plumber, or a social worker were all vocations—they were all jobs of spiritual worth, all jobs we are called by God to do because they serve a common good, a communal neighbor, and thus serve Christ and his Gospel.
Thus I have four questions I believe to be worth discussing:
1. So why is it that only now, when there aren’t enough full-time calls for Lutheran pastors, that the ELCA is calling us to discern a second vocation?
2. For that matter what does this “bi-vocational” language say to pastors who are fathers and mothers? GED certifiers? Volunteers of all sorts? What if a pastor has discerned that God has called him to be a pastor, God has called him to volunteer at a homeless shelter, God has called him to be a husband, and God has called him to be a father? That’s four vocations already! Four holy callings upon a man’s life!
3. The lifestyle of a pastor makes maintaining other vocations, such as parent and spouse, hard to do (http://www.pastorburnout.com/pastor-burnout-statistics.html http://www.desperatepreacher.com/pastorcare/intro_clergyfamily.htm) why is the ELCA only concerned with a clergyperson’s other vocations once it involves money? (As a side-note yes I am aware of the wholeness wheel http://www.elca.org/Growing-In-Faith/Vocation/Rostered-Leadership/Leadership-Support/Health/Wholeness-Wheel.aspx)
4. For that matter, when we discuss lay-folk and non-ordination track folk we lessen the use of this language of vocation. Why is it only when the work life of ordained-folk is concerned that we trot out this language of vocation?
I guess it seems that as a church it is important to call things what they are.
Peace,
Chris Halverson
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The Sanity/Fear Rally (Part 2)
In a previous post I described the Sanity/Fear rally and Stewart's reason for having it.
What follows are my reasons for going.
I came to the Rally to restore Sanity and/or Fear for civic fellowship, to affirm civility, and to negate the Beck-Tea Party axis’ stranglehold on national discourse.
1.I went to Stewart and Cobert’s rally because friends were going. On one level I mean Onleilove, Samantha and Aaron who I rode down with.
On another level I mean the many friends and friends of friends (for example my Hebrew study partner from undergrad in Oregon and the boss of the woman who convinced me to get Simul in Wisconsin) who also attended, but because of the massive crowd I never saw there.
On still another level I mean all those people who came together who share shades of the same cultural, social, generational, and political views as my own. I’ve heard it said the Sanity/Fear Rally was my generation’s Woodstock. I think that’s a little far-reaching, but the point it well made.
I wanted to participate in a big event in the national-life of our country. There seem to be fewer opportunities for communal and community oriented events in our national life. I think this lack fed into the Beck rally. But it is not only Sarah Palin’s heart that yearns for national purpose, for a public life and the ability to earn some social capital, but my own as well.
2. I also went to the Sanity/Fear rally because I am pro-civility. Much of Stewart’s expressed reason for going to the rally mirrors my own. I think many people are truly fearful. They are acting like chickens with their heads cut off because the media, and, I would add, reactionary people with far more detrimental intentions than simply selling newspapers and gaining high television ratings, are telling us we have everything to fear. These same people also demonize those with whom they disagree, and next thing you know everything becomes a yelling match. I believe healthy discussion and clear discourse can do wonders for understanding what those you disagree with believe.
3. That said, there are people out there with whom I disagree deeply. They are the final reason I went to the Sanity/Fear rally; I went because I am anti-Tea Party and anti-right wing extremist. In fact, because of the way they have handled themselves they deserve to be mocked. Their claims upon the soul of my country (and theirs), their overblown sense of their own strength, and their manufacturing of reality is unacceptable. Thumbing my nose at these tendencies is the third and final reason I went to the Sanity/Fear rally (and yes I am aware there is a disconnect between this and my previous reason for going to the rally).
What follows are my reasons for going.
I came to the Rally to restore Sanity and/or Fear for civic fellowship, to affirm civility, and to negate the Beck-Tea Party axis’ stranglehold on national discourse.
1.I went to Stewart and Cobert’s rally because friends were going. On one level I mean Onleilove, Samantha and Aaron who I rode down with.
On another level I mean the many friends and friends of friends (for example my Hebrew study partner from undergrad in Oregon and the boss of the woman who convinced me to get Simul in Wisconsin) who also attended, but because of the massive crowd I never saw there.
On still another level I mean all those people who came together who share shades of the same cultural, social, generational, and political views as my own. I’ve heard it said the Sanity/Fear Rally was my generation’s Woodstock. I think that’s a little far-reaching, but the point it well made.
I wanted to participate in a big event in the national-life of our country. There seem to be fewer opportunities for communal and community oriented events in our national life. I think this lack fed into the Beck rally. But it is not only Sarah Palin’s heart that yearns for national purpose, for a public life and the ability to earn some social capital, but my own as well.
2. I also went to the Sanity/Fear rally because I am pro-civility. Much of Stewart’s expressed reason for going to the rally mirrors my own. I think many people are truly fearful. They are acting like chickens with their heads cut off because the media, and, I would add, reactionary people with far more detrimental intentions than simply selling newspapers and gaining high television ratings, are telling us we have everything to fear. These same people also demonize those with whom they disagree, and next thing you know everything becomes a yelling match. I believe healthy discussion and clear discourse can do wonders for understanding what those you disagree with believe.
3. That said, there are people out there with whom I disagree deeply. They are the final reason I went to the Sanity/Fear rally; I went because I am anti-Tea Party and anti-right wing extremist. In fact, because of the way they have handled themselves they deserve to be mocked. Their claims upon the soul of my country (and theirs), their overblown sense of their own strength, and their manufacturing of reality is unacceptable. Thumbing my nose at these tendencies is the third and final reason I went to the Sanity/Fear rally (and yes I am aware there is a disconnect between this and my previous reason for going to the rally).
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