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07 Sep 07:50

Will you pray with Francis for peace?

by Morgan Guyton

Pope_Francis_in_March_2013American politicians are eager to use the Catholic church when it comes to certain topics related to sexuality. But what about when the pope calls upon the whole world to fast and pray for peace in Syria, which is what Francis has asked us to do today? Is it just the impotent, ceremonial gesture that the pundits will make it out to be, since Obama knows that his foreign policy legacy will be “toast” if he doesn’t make good on his promise to blow up a certain quota of Syrian buildings? Or could the worldwide prayer and fast actually exert the same power that an insignificant Galilean carpenter wielded on a Roman cross 2000 years ago to change the course of history? What will you choose to believe?

Christian journalist Jonathan Merritt shared three Christian perspectives on the Syrian conflict: fundamentalist Southern Baptist Russell Moore representing the “just war” position, Christian neo-monastic Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove representing “pacifism,” and David Gushee representing a “just peacemaking” position. None of these three, including Moore, support the bombing of Syria. Moore writes: “Saving national credibility is important but it does not make a war just. The President must use his bully pulpit to make the case that what he wants to do here is more than a symbol, a symbol that will leave blood and fire in its wake. If I were in Congress, I would vote “no” on this war.”

Moore is naming the situation exactly right. The only argument that has been made in favor of bombing Syria by all the pundits is that Obama must save his foreign policy legacy and our national credibility by engaging in a purely symbolic gesture that will kill lots of people and accomplish nothing strategic. It’s easy to make that argument from the comfort of your laptop keyboard. I wish that somebody would round up all the pundits and airdrop them into the countries that we bomb ahead of time to test out the precision of our “surgical strikes” in avoiding civilian casualties.

“Well, he said there was a red line and the Syrians have crossed it, so how will anyone believe anything he says from here on out?” “Obama is such an amateur at foreign policy; he needs to prove that he can be a decisive leader.” I saw this kind of worldly “wisdom” on display every day when I was teaching public high school and crowds of 16 year old pundits would jeer two kids into fighting to prove their “credibility” and “decisiveness.” There is nothing Christian about making decisions that will kill civilians for purely symbolic objectives.

So if the Catholic pope and the person designated by the Southern Baptist Convention as their primary lobbyist and public policy spokesperson are both saying no to bombing Syria, then why is this not a slam dunk? The Republican voting base is made up of mostly Catholics and Southern Baptists who purportedly vote according to their religious values and follow the direction of their religious leaders. The phone lines of House Republicans should be ringing off the hook today.

It would be a shocker that would utterly rattle the American public’s presumptions about the character of the Republican Party if a majority of Republicans voted down bombing Syria on account of their loyalty to the church. What? You mean they think about their religion when they’re talking about something other than sex? The Democrats only want to bomb Syria because they’re afraid the Republicans will call them cowards if they vote no, the irony of course being that this is precisely an expression of their moral cowardice.

The conversation about bombing Syria reveals the bankruptcy of talking about these issues in the abstraction of cyberspace where we have the audacity to use words like “statement” and “reputation” when we’re talking about doing something that will cause other people’s bones to be disintegrated and internal organs to be splattered onto walls.

“Well, we have to do something!” When people who believe in God are faced with senseless evil and impossibly complex circumstances, the “doing something” that we have available to us is to pray. And when we want to pray deeply, we fast. It’s a mystery what praying actually does. I know that a lot of people talk about it flippantly without actually doing it (or at least I know that I have before). It’s easy for “I’ll pray for you” to become an empty phrase we say that we take about as seriously as “Let’s do lunch sometime.”

Today is an opportunity to act in a way that would be completely ridiculous if God didn’t exist. It is utterly foolish to believe that praying and fasting can do anything to stop crazy dictators from oppressing their people. But it is the kind of foolishness that defines Christianity. And enough praying fools really can change the course of history. So how about you skip lunch today, if you’ve already had breakfast, and spend that time talking to God about Syria? I don’t know exactly what good it will accomplish, but I know that I believe in the power of the One I will be talking to.


Filed under: General Topics, Politics
07 Sep 07:46

The Heritage of Our Stories

by Rachel Pieh Jones

by Rachel Pieh Jones

JOAN

Joan Didion said, “We tell stories in order to live.”

I don’t want to presume to know what she meant. But if I said something profound like that, this is what I would mean: we tell stories in order to remember that we live, that we have lived, that we will live. That people we love lived, live, will live.

We can be selective in the stories we choose to tell, we can shape and capture and pass on the way we have lived. And these stories can both create a context for the present and cast a vision for the future. I am convinced that part of my job as a mother is to give my children their heritage in the form of stories.

We have the story of when grandma forgot her song at a piano recital. She stood up, faced the audience, and said, “Well, you can’t win ‘em all.”

We have the story of when grandpa, mom, and two cousins lost Lake Sixteen while hunting. The story gets louder, the lake more lost, with each telling.

These are the kinds of stories that if someone says, “Lake Sixteen,” everyone starts to talk at the same time and it doesn’t matter that no one is listening because we all know everything already, but we need to tell it again. I simply need to say to my mom, “You can’t win ‘em all,” and we make a connection.

My parents told me their stories and their parents’ stories and now I tell my children these same stories. How Great Grandpa served in the Korean War. How Grandma Jones didn’t speak English until she was five, though she was born in Minnesota. How Grandma Pieh met Jesus.

Not because the stories are in themselves grand or monumental, most of them are quite plain and simple. But they are ours. And in the telling they say Grandma was here and she forgot things too sometimes and she moved on and now we beg her to play the piano at bedtime. Grandpa was here and he got lost and made us laugh and it was all about creating a memory, forging relationships. They explain, this is why we talk like that, this is why we cry on Veteran’s Day, this is how Grandma introduced me to Jesus.

These older stories are roots, ever-deepening, intertwining, supporting, sustaining, grounding. They provide a sense of security and belonging out of which the new generation can find strength to be branches. To reach toward the sun and to bear fruit and to live their own stories. They are treasure and heritage and we tell these stories in order to live.

They are the legacy I received and they are the gift I give my children.

__________________________________________________________

Does your family have generational stories told and retold? Whispered into the ears of newborns? Wept and laughed over at funerals?

Image Credit: Tina Francis

Author information

Rachel Pieh Jones
Rachel Pieh Jones has written for the New York Times, The Christian Science Monitor, EthnoTraveler, the Desiring God blog, and Skirt. She lives, writes, and runs in Djibouti with her husband and three children. She blogs at www.djiboutijones.com.

The post The Heritage of Our Stories appeared first on SheLoves Magazine.

06 Sep 09:43

Top Ten Heresies and Remedies for Them: #4

by Jason Micheli

jf1Heresy = Beliefs considered anathema by the ecumenical councils of the Christian Church

If Orthodoxy = ‘right praise’ then heresy = ‘wrong praise.’

*Leviticus 10: wrong praise = a very big deal

If Stanley Hauerwas is correct to assert that most Christians in America today are ‘functional atheists;’ that is, most Christians live in such a way that it makes no difference that God raised Jesus from the dead, then surely even more Christians today are inadvertent heretics, trodding paths of belief the ancient Church long ago labeled dangerous detours.

Today these ancient errors of the faith can be found wearing many different guises. For all you know, you might be wearing one too.

By pointing out what Christians DO NOT believe, we can get one step closer to what we do.

Heresy #4: Biblicism

What Is It?

Okay, so it’s really my own pet peeve and not an official ancient heresy- only because it’s so far removed from how the first Christians thought, believed and read their scripture that it never became an issue.

So then:

Biblicism attributes a supernatural origin to scripture.

The Bible is the direct, unfiltered Word of God.

Ironically, it’s an approach to Christian scripture that has a correlative in how Muslims understand the Qu’ran as containing the very words God dictated to the Prophet.

Scripture then is as free of error, as though it fallen from heaven printed and bound rather than the fruit of prayerful reflection, testimony, oral tradition and a long process of canonization.

Because scripture is the direct, eternal unfiltered Word of God, scripture’s meaning- according to biblicism- is both clear and obvious to the average, individual believer and, more heretically, it’s available to individuals apart from an encounter with the Risen Christ and submission to a community of interpretation and practice.

In other words, if the Bible alone is the Word of God on paper you don’t need the Word made flesh, and if the Bible is the clear Word of God you don’t need a community to tell you how the saints before you heard and embodied that Word.

Who Screwed Up First

While Christian fundamentalists often present this approach as the traditional way of understanding scripture, they do so with a remarkable lack of historical awareness.

Like the other ‘fundamentals’ the literal, inerrancy and infallibility of scripture only arose in late 19th century as the Church combated what it took to be the corrosive effects of the modernist movement.

Interestingly, at the same time some Protestants were making the infallibility of scripture one of the five ‘Fundamentals’ Roman Catholics were taking the similar step of developing the doctrine of papal infallibility.

A longer historical view bears out that biblicism is the outlier within the Christian tradition.

The practice of Midrash in Judaism reveals the great deal of openness, creativity and flexibility with how believers approached Torah, which to Jews’ minds never has but one meaning.

Jesus’ own Midrash (the Sermon on the Mount) and Paul’s (Romans et al) show how the rabbi from Nazareth and the former Pharisee knew that the freedom to reinterpret texts was a cultural norm.

In addition, the Church Fathers’ voluminous writings illustrate how the first Christians read scripture not literally but allegorically even while ‘literally’ accepting certain faith propositions.

How Do You Know If You’re a Heretic?

If you believe that every word of scripture is the literal, inerrant Word of God and thus you flatten the whole of scripture, making every word just as important and authoritative as any other, you’re Exhibit A in the case against biblicism.

Your heresy now makes the purity of codes of Leviticus logically equivalent in importance to the Sermon on the Mount. Your heresy makes God’s instructions to the take the holy land by bloodshed as critical and as revealing of God’s eternal character as Christ’s non-violent love unto the Cross.

If you flatten the the narrative arc of scripture and makes it all of equal import, losing the plot by turning narrative into a collection of equally authoritative precepts and principles, teachings and codes, instead of diverse, polyvalent testimony to the saving love of God made flesh in Jesus Christ, then you might self-identify as a bible-believing Christian but the Church Fathers would finger you as a heretical Christian.

Intentionally or not, you’re holding onto the bible to keep Jesus at arm’s length.

If you demand that your nation or culture or church hold on to antiquated prejudices, faulty scientific assumptions or an untenable worldview simply because every word of scripture is infallible, then you are a good example of how biblicism is hardly a harmless heresy.

Because you force your fellow Christians in to a kind of cognitive dissonance where we must ignore or disavow what we learn in the natural world should our learning seem at odds with scripture, as though God lies to us because God’s truth is only to be found in scripture.

Your literalistic rendering of the creation story forces fellow Christians either to dismiss evolutionary theory or prehistoric life.

Your literalistic interpretation of Revelation and the eschaton allows fellow Christians to dismiss stewardship of the environment or the danger of climate change.

Your heretical grip on scripture’s infallibility can also lock your fellow Christians into defending or perpetuating the social mores of the cultural context in which scripture was first recorded, holding on so tight to the past we forget to look for what the Spirit is doing today. You’re so determined to repeat what God said that you forget to use what God said in order to recognize what God is saying. Now.

If you say that ‘the Bible said it and that’s good enough for me’ then you’re a heretic who believes that scripture is an unmediated revelation, requiring not the testimony of faithful witnesses, before you and around you.

And while you might think you’re protecting scripture from the acids of the modern world, you do so at the expense of any role for God’s People. Rather than the Word of God being mediated through the testimony of God’s People, and hence being inherently relational, you make it authoritarian text. You make scripture something to which we must conform more so than something which invites us into a transformative relationship.

You’re a biblicist who’s forgotten that our scripture, like our Lord, is incarnational- both divine and human.

That said,

If you treat scripture purely as an historical document, if you ignore the confessional intent of scripture in order to get at ‘what really happened’ or ‘who was the real Jesus of history’ then you’ve swallowed the biblicists’ bait, bought into their game, and are making the very same mistakes as them.

You think you can unpack the written word apart from the Risen Word and his Body, the Church.

Persons Most Likely to Commit This Heresy Today

Marcus Borg

Reza Aslan

Protestants

Muslims

John Shelby Spong

Evangelicals

James Dobson

The Religious Right

Fundamentalists

The Media

Remedies

Tear up a Bible or throw one down on the ground, stand on it, wait for lightening to strike and when it doesn’t remind yourself: ‘I worship Jesus Christ, the Word of God, not the Bible.’

Read just 2 Gospels straight through. Notice the discrepancies. Feel your doctrine slip away. Notice how the presence of Christ abides.

Celebrate Easter early without the New Testament, just like the first Christians managed to do.

Make friends with a Catholic, Orthodox Christian or Jew.

Read Karl Barth’s treatment of the 3 Fold Word of God and give thanks.

 

06 Sep 01:09

Not Getting How Horrible the Bible Is

by Richard Beck
[Grammar Note: Yes, that title ends with "is."] 

As I've spent more and more time at the margins of society, reading the bible with the damned to use Bob Ekblad's phrase, I've noticed something.

What I've noticed is this. When you read the bible on the margins people don't seem to notice just how horrible the bible is. 

For example, when I lead a bible study with liberal, educated folks the horrific parts of the bible quickly come to the surface and become the focus of attention. These texts, it seems, sit at the heart of the liberal, educated experience of the bible and represent a constant, chronic threat to the integrity of the bible and faith itself. These passages in the bible threaten to delegitimize the bible and, thus, the entire Christian faith. Everything seems to hang on those texts. For liberal, educated folk.

But for the uneducated? Not so much, at least in my experience.

I've read some of the most scandalous passages in the bible to men in prison or with the poor and, for whatever reason, they haven't blinked an eye. With liberal, educated audiences such passages would completely hijack the conversation. And no judgment about that, these passages hijack the conversation for me. But I've noticed that they haven't hijacked the conversation at the margins. To be sure, sometimes they do. There is a guy, Steve, in the prison bible study who isn't very educated but Steve asks some really sharp, probing questions. But generally speaking, the horrible passages in the bible haven't alarmed, shook, or disturbed those on the edges of society with whom I've studied.

This threw me for a loop at first. I'd get to some passage in the bible that had something horrible in it and I'd wait, hunkered down and prepared, for the inevitable barrage of questions and outrage. And nothing would happen. On the margins, at least in my experience, people seem perfectly comfortable with the blood and the violence and the wrath. The Old Testament God isn't much of a scandal in these social locations.

And I've wondered about that. What's going on?

Maybe it's education. Maybe you need a liberal arts college education to be properly shocked by the bible.

Maybe it's life experiences. On the margins life is more brutal and violent. There, in the midst of that social location, the bible doesn't sound strange at all. It seems to fit. And this seems to be the case worldwide. The bible speaks to the third world, it is alive and powerful. But in the educated and liberal Western world the bible is a shock and a scandal.

Or perhaps something else is going on. But if either of these two factors are in play then it seems that offense at the bible is associated with privilege. Whenever I've heard complaints about the bible being horrible I've generally been talking to a person of advantage and privilege. Generally White. Generally educated. Generally rich (by the world's standards).

And it's likely that my privilege is blinding me in certain ways in how I'm listening out of the margins. I may be really missing the boat on this. 

Regardless, does any of this mean that the privileged concerns about the bible should be dismissed? No, I don't think so. Being a privileged person myself I share these criticisms about the bible and wrestle with them. But given where I'm reading the bible I'm increasingly less obsessed with these sorts of questions, issues, and criticisms. Mainly just because these objections aren't coming up.

I'm not wholly dismissive of the complaints of the privileged regarding the bible, but I am, generally speaking, much less interested.
06 Sep 00:52

A Fast for Peace September 7th

by Richard Beck
From Vatican Radio: 

"Pope Francis has called for a day of fasting and prayer for peace in Syria, in the entire Mideast region, and throughout the whole world to be held this coming Saturday, September 7th, 2013. The Pope made the announcement during the course of remarks ahead of the traditional Angelus prayer this Sunday. Below, please find the full text of the Holy Father's Angelus appeal:"
Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Hello!

Today, dear brothers and sisters, I wish to add my voice to the cry which rises up with increasing anguish from every part of the world, from every people, from the heart of each person, from the one great family which is humanity: it is the cry for peace! It is a cry which declares with force: we want a peaceful world, we want to be men and women of peace, and we want in our society, torn apart by divisions and conflict, that peace break out! War never again! Never again war! Peace is a precious gift, which must be promoted and protected.

There are so many conflicts in this world which cause me great suffering and worry, but in these days my heart is deeply wounded in particular by what is happening in Syria and anguished by the dramatic developments which are looming.

I appeal strongly for peace, an appeal which arises from the deep within me. How much suffering, how much devastation, how much pain has the use of arms carried in its wake in that martyred country, especially among civilians and the unarmed! I think of many children who will not see the light of the future! With utmost firmness I condemn the use of chemical weapons: I tell you that those terrible images from recent days are burned into my mind and heart. There is a judgment of God and of history upon our actions which are inescapable! Never has the use of violence brought peace in its wake. War begets war, violence begets violence.

With all my strength, I ask each party in this conflict to listen to the voice of their own conscience, not to close themselves in solely on their own interests, but rather to look at each other as brothers and decisively and courageously to follow the path of encounter and negotiation, and so overcome blind conflict. With similar vigour I exhort the international community to make every effort to promote clear proposals for peace in that country without further delay, a peace based on dialogue and negotiation, for the good of the entire Syrian people.

May no effort be spared in guaranteeing humanitarian assistance to those wounded by this terrible conflict, in particular those forced to flee and the many refugees in nearby countries. May humanitarian workers, charged with the task of alleviating the sufferings of these people, be granted access so as to provide the necessary aid. What can we do to make peace in the world? As Pope John said, it pertains to each individual to establish new relationships in human society under the mastery and guidance of justice and love (cf. John XXIII, Pacem in Terris, [11 April 1963]: AAS 55, [1963], 301-302).

All men and women of good will are bound by the task of pursuing peace. I make a forceful and urgent call to the entire Catholic Church, and also to every Christian of other confessions, as well as to followers of every religion and to those brothers and sisters who do not believe: peace is a good which overcomes every barrier, because it belongs all of humanity!

I repeat forcefully: it is neither a culture of confrontation nor a culture of conflict which builds harmony within and between peoples, but rather a culture of encounter and a culture of dialogue; this is the only way to peace.

May the plea for peace rise up and touch the heart of everyone so that they may lay down their weapons and let themselves be led by the desire for peace. To this end, brothers and sisters, I have decided to proclaim for the whole Church on 7 September next, the vigil of the birth of Mary, Queen of Peace, a day of fasting and prayer for peace in Syria, the Middle East, and throughout the world, and I also invite each person, including our fellow Christians, followers of other religions and all men of good will, to participate, in whatever way they can, in this initiative.

On 7 September, in Saint Peter’s Square, here, from 19:00 until 24:00, we will gather in prayer and in a spirit of penance, invoking God’s great gift of peace upon the beloved nation of Syria and upon each situation of conflict and violence around the world. Humanity needs to see these gestures of peace and to hear words of hope and peace! I ask all the local churches, in addition to fasting, that they gather to pray for this intention.

Let us ask Mary to help us to respond to violence, to conflict and to war, with the power of dialogue, reconciliation and love. She is our mother: may she help us to find peace; all of us are her children! Help us, Mary, to overcome this most difficult moment and to dedicate ourselves each day to building in every situation an authentic culture of encounter and peace. Mary, Queen of Peace, pray for us! 
I'll be fasting for peace on the 7th.
05 Sep 17:51

For My Sons: On Depression

by Addie

You want to know why we’re going through the Walgreens drive thru, so I tell you, “Mama needs to pick up her medicine.”

But you’re FOUR now, so that’s not good enough anymore. You want to know why. You want to know what for. You want to know if Mom has a headache or a tummy ache. What medicine? You keep asking me. And Why?

My first instinct is to oversimplify. I consider telling you that they’re Mama’s “happy pills,” but dismiss it almost immediately. It may sound simple, but it’s not the truth. The pills don’t make me content. This is not a magic potion or a jolt of endorphins. We’re not talking about a hit of happiness here.

In the end, it’s much more complicated than all of that. This is about synapses and neurons, about a kind of short-circuiting in your brain that makes everything go a little bit dark for no good reason at all.

The first time the Depression came, I didn’t know what it was. I had no concept of it as an illness – at least not as one that could find its way into my soul. I thought it was a funk. I believed truly that with enough prayer, activity, and Bible-reading and friends, I could bat it away like a simple, buzzing annoyance.

I tried to pray it away and I tried to journal it away. I avoided it expertly, beiging out on Alias binges – one episode after another, late into the night. I plunged into service work at various churches and tried to work it away with my acts of selflessness.

Eventually I tried to drink it away, and that never ends well.

It never occurred to me that it might be something in my biology, some imbalance of neurochemicals creating a haze of shadow in my brain. The doctor I went to was a last resort. When he drew a picture of the neurotransmitters misfiring on the back of his prescription pad and signed his name in sloppy doctor cursive, I understood, finally, that there might be something more to all of this than my own moral failings.

Right now you are small. Four and two. Your emotional landscapes are simple – albeit tumultuous. You erupt in big, fiery bouts of anger and your happiness is as sudden and wild as lightning. You are in your pre-school years, and this is exactly as it should be.

And I can’t explain this to you when you ask me in the drive thru, “What medicine, Mom?” When you look at me, all curiosity and concern, I can’t tell you the whole, hard truth. But someday, you’re going to need to know it. Someday, your psyche will gel into something more solid – and listen: this darkness might be part of it.

You, after all, have my eyes.

Dane, you have my first-born’s trepidation and that same desperate hunger for physical touch. We have the same thick, blonde hair and propensity for hoarding. Liam – you have my stubbornness, my clumsiness, my introvertedness, my temper.

We are made out of the same stuff, weaved together by the spiraling strands of our shared DNA – and this might be in you. The bent toward melancholy. Those deep, cavernous spaces that no amount of positive self-talk or cookie dough or caffeine or friends can pull you up out of.

I want you to know so that you’ll be on the lookout. So that you won’t try to fill the empty with drugs or girls or booze. And also, I want you to know so that you won’t beat yourself up, trying to cram more Jesus into that emptiness, feeling like a failure in your faith if you can’t seem to feel Him there.

I want you to know that there’s medicine and that it’s okay to take it. It doesn’t always work. It’s no magic pill, after all. But maybe it can help. Maybe it will even you out enough so that you don’t have to keep hoisting yourself up, so that you don’t break down under the weight of your own darkness.

That’s what it does for me. And that’s why we’re at the drive thru, why I’m picking up another bag this month, why I keep taking them every night, one pill before bed.

I started taking the antidepressants again early this summer. For a while I thought it was just the blues, but then I found myself sleeping more, checking out from daily life, disappearing into the fog of my mind. I went to the doctor, and there’s a part of that process that always feels like failure to me. Like giving up. Like If I were stronger, I could overcome this.

Every time I end up in that exam room, I cry. I can’t explain why except that I hate this. I hate that I seem to need these pills to be okay. I hate that I can’t just take a nice, warm shower and shake out of it.

But then, every time, the doctor looks at me kindly and says, Listen. This is in your biology. It’s okay to get help. And suddenly, I remember that this is entirely and completely true. God did not create us to pull ourselves up on our own. We are given grace every moment of every day, and the trick is learning to receive it.

“What medicine?” You ask again. Liam, you say it too – “Med-sin!” – because you repeat everything your brother says.

And finally I tell you, “It’s a special vitamin,” I maneuver the car out of the Walgreens parking lot. “It makes Mommy healthy.”

“OH!” You say. “That’s GREAT!”

“It is, baby,” I say, smiling. “It’s great.”

The bag is light as I toss it next to me on the seat. Light like grace and peace and an unexpected part of my path toward wholeness.

I choose it again every night because it’s worth it to me. You’re worth it. I want to live these beautiful years healthy and alive and fully present to all of this beautiful light.

04 Sep 09:22

Top Ten Heresies and Remedies for Them: #7

by Jason Micheli
Maggieranderson

Whole series is worth reading.

Unknown

Heresy = Beliefs considered anathema by the ecumenical councils of the Christian Church

If Orthodoxy = ‘right praise’ then heresy = ‘wrong praise.’

*Leviticus 10: wrong praise = a very big deal

If Stanley Hauerwas is correct to assert that most Christians in America today are ‘functional atheists;’ that is, most Christians live in such a way that it makes no difference that God raised Jesus from the dead, then surely even more Christians today are inadvertent heretics, trodding paths of belief the ancient Church long ago labeled dangerous detours.

Today these ancient errors of the faith can be found wearing many different guises. For all you know, you might be wearing one too.

By pointing out what Christians DO NOT believe, we can get one step closer to what we do.

Heresy #7: Antinomianism

What Is It?

In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul famously asks his interlocutor, ‘if we’re saved by God’s grace and not by our deeds then should we keep on sinning so that God’s grace may abound even more?’

Antinomians are those who, not realizing Paul’s question is a rhetorical one and not bothering to read Paul further, answer: ‘Sure, why not?’

Displaying that logic does not always steer you true, antinomians hold that since the advent of Christ and the Gospel of grace, the Law, that is the moral conduct prescribed by God to his People in the Old Testament, is neither of use for Christians nor an obligation.

In other words:

If faith alone is necessary for salvation then the Law is unnecessary. 

Who Screwed Up First

While its roots go back to the ancient Church and its regrettable attitude towards Jews and their scripture, antinomianism is the crappy, white-elephant gift Protestantism has given the larger Church.

Antinomianism was the Jacob to the Protestant Reformation’s Esau, the inevitable and subsequent counter-charge to the Reformation’s critique of the Catholic Church’s ‘legalism’ and ‘works righteousness.’

You could blame Martin Luther who first projected onto the New Testament Pharisees, including Paul, the abuses of Luther’s own Medieval Catholicism. You could blame Martin Luther, for antinomianism is the predictable outcome to redefining the Gospel primarily in terms of justification by faith alone.

But the antinomianism reached its high point in the 17th century Puritan Colony of Massachusetts when Anne Hutchison, daughter of an Anglican priest, subscribed to the ‘free grace’ theology of John Cotton, a renegade Puritan preacher.

Hutchison found Cotton’s critique of Puritanism’s works righteousness persuading.

Hutchison then proved persuasive herself, recruiting others to the free grace movement.

Soon the Puritan leaders of Massachusetts (ie, Men) were persuaded to excommunicate and dispatch Hutchison. The regrettable theology of Hutchison was matched by the regrettable gender politics of the Church.

How Do You Know If You’re a Heretic?

If you divide- and thereby render schizophrenic- God’s revelation of himself in the Old and New Testaments by saying that ‘Jews try to earn salvation by doing the works of the Law while Christians receive salvation by grace through faith,’ then you might be an antinomian.

You might be antisemitic too.

So was Luther.

But at least Luther, on paper, understood that desiring to live out the ethic of the Law was the fruit of any true encounter with the grace of God in Jesus Christ.

If you think Jesus does away the obligations of the Law rather than A) amping up the expectations of the Law and B) revealing in himself the Law’s all-along-aim then your ancestors might’ve hailed from the Bay State.

If you think you got right with God because you once came down during the altar call, invited Jesus into your heart and got born again during a moment of orchestrated, liturgized peer pressure and now it doesn’t matter if you cheat on your wife, give the poor only pennies and don’t bat an eye at the injustices of the world then you, my friend, are exactly why the Catholic Church got so bent out of shape about Luther nailing his Theses into the church door.

If you imagine that Christianity is really about love and that we should love others without the expectation or invitation for them to conform their lives to the Cross, then you’re an antinomian.

If you believe the Church should welcome everyone as they are and never critique their character or habits (thus leaving them as they are) then you’re a free grace- Bonhoeffer would say, cheap grace- heretic.

If inclusivity is a more urgent exhortation for you than calling others to conversion, repentance and a cross-bearing life then the one thing you’re NOT inclusive of is orthodoxy.

Persons Most Likely to Commit This Heresy Today

Marcus Borg

The Nones

Americans

United Methodists

United Methodist Pastors

All other Mainline Protestants

Evangelicals

Most Contemporary Christian songwriters

The Religious Right

Progressive Christians

Baby Boomers

Celebrities who opine about religion and ethics

Remedies

Read Paul’s Letter to the Romans, all of it- especially those chapters at the end no one ever quotes.

Read the Gospels and ask: Where does Jesus imply we just have to have faith?

Look at yourself in the mirror and consider: Do I want grace to be so amazing because the content of my character isn’t?

Become Mennonite.

Or get to know Jew.

Start with Jesus if you haven’t met him yet.

04 Sep 00:28

Christian Missions Don't Have to Suck

by noreply@blogger.com (Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary)

It's no secret that I believe the North American Church has really screwed the pooch when it comes to missions as a whole. Honestly? The more I study and read and learn from more experienced missionaries, the more strongly I feel that the majorityof the “work” we're doing around the world in the name of Jesus has little to no value, or worse, is actually causing harm to the people we've set out to help/reach/bless/save/whatever.

In our efforts to do good and share the good news, we seem to have lost our way. Somewhere along the line, we began to exploit poverty and suffering as a means to evangelize, and the result is a short-sighted, self-focused, arrogant, and wasteful intersection where the Christian faith meets the planet Earth. Humanitarianism took a wrong turn in the hands of sincerely well-meaning Christians. Poor people became “a ripe harvest field”. Meeting basic human needs became “bestowing God's blessing”. Tragedy became “opportunity”. And the world groaned under the weight of our good intentions.

But we can do better. Christian missions don't have to suck.

I resolved at the beginning of this year to find people who were doing it well; loving man and loving Jesus in conjunction with each other – but – seamlessly, respectfully, honestly, and uncontrived. I took every opportunity that came my way, and now my calendar is full. And so is my passport. On Friday, I had to zip over to San Francisco to have pages added to my passport, because next week I'm headed to Guatemala and I had no more room for visas.

I've been invited, along with a few of my favorite bloggers, to come see the work that WorldVision is doing on the ground through their child sponsorship program. I'm particularly interested in this because I was already a fan of World Vision's bent toward long-term community development with a clear exit strategy. I think that's smart. And I think that's humble. And I hope to see those truths for myself next week.

But what I love the most about World Vision is that while, yes, it is a Christianhumanitarian organization, it does not lord Christianity over the people it serves. World Vision loves because we are commanded to love. They let the rest happen organically, gently, the way it happens for you and me – through relationship.

I love that.

I hope you'll follow along next week. I'll be posting something new every day (Which I never do! So I'm kinda freaked out about that). And I hope that you'll consider partnering with World Vision by sponsoring a Guatemalan child today. 

  
Click here to sponsor a child today.



I'm increasingly convinced that Christian missions don't have to suck. When we approach the world thoughtfully, strategically, with expertise and humility, we can fulfill our mission to love God and love others, we can tend to the great commission to go into all the nations. We can do good. And we can love well. Right now, a lot of us are way off course, but missions doesn't have to be a joke. Also? It doesn't have to be called "missions"... aaaand I'm pretty sure World Vision figured all this out a long time ago.

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Ever thought that Christian missions kind of suck? Think we can do better?  


01 Sep 15:53

Thinking about God Makes Me Just Want to Keep My Mouth Shut

by Peter Enns
Smart people tell us that the universe is about 14 billion years old and about 46 billion light years across. Light travels about 5.87 trillion miles a year (you heard me). Multiply that by 46 billion. My calculator broke. I came up with 2.70231100992E23. According to my extensive 10 second Google research, the numbers before [Read More...]
31 Aug 00:37

The Virtue of Relentlessness

by Adam McHugh
Maggieranderson

This speaks to my soul. NBD.

I am not much for summer.

For the last 9 years I have lived in a climate with glorious winters and summers that would make Dante add a 10th ring of hell. Oh but it's a dry heat, my friends from the east coast tell me. Yeah, but so is a blow dryer and I wouldn't want to sit under one of those for 3 months. My Irish skin sears like an ahi tuna in the desert heat. The only thing that is supposed to burn my people is whiskey on our throats as we laugh merrily at frigid winters.

People from southern California will tell you that this is the best climate in the world, but odds are, those people live much closer to the ocean than I do, where it's 75 and the living is easy. Here it's 105 from July through September, and if you crack an egg at noon on the sidewalk, it turns into a chicken. Who angrily pecks at you. And then explodes.

I don't know if there is such a thing as reverse seasonal affective disorder, but if not, someone needs to add it to a textbook with my sunburnt Irish face next to it. The Weather Channel will put up my picture, warning "If you see this man on a 100 degree day, use extreme caution. Unless he has a slurpee, then feel free to approach. If he drops his slurpee during your conversation, run far and run fast." I was perfectly normal when I lived in Seattle, when the low hanging winter clouds brought despair and The Shining-like homicidal cabin fever, and the summers returned hope and sanity to a blindingly pale people, until we reached that inevitable day, usually around July 6th, when the Mariners were mathematically eliminated from the playoffs. But now a rainy day brings jubilation and a hot summer day makes me believe that there is no God.

That is me during a normal summer in this desert life. But I'll be honest: summer 2013 has been an unusually bad summer. I am inclined to call it the WORST.SUMMER.EVER, but I fear I am setting myself up for a future summer to trump this summer in its worstness. It has been a summer of disappointment, of heartache, and of loneliness, words that we all know barely scratch the surface of the feelings they try to describe.

I have been spending 3 days a week up north in the Santa Barbara area, but my wine country experiment has been a huge disappointment, and it now seems that Santa Ynez will just be a stop along the road rather than a destination. It has not offered me the sense of belonging that I hoped it would. Next week I start my 3rd winery job, in six months, and while I think this will be the best one yet, I do not anticipate a change of heart toward the area. It's just not home. I'm just not small town rural. If a place doesn't have a classical music station, or a jazz station, or NPR, then Adam is not long for that place. Wise people have often said that the only thing scarier than not realizing your dreams is realizing your dreams. I get that now. It's enough to make you stop dreaming.

I spent the last couple of days in Big Bear, in the mountains, hoping to find some flicker of hope in the dog days, and yesterday I wrote this tweet:
The air up here is crisp, the scarecrows look menacing, the birds are sharpening their wings for a long flight south. Suck it, Summer 2013.
— Adam S. McHugh (@adamsmchugh) August 27, 2013
Even though I am now back down the mountain perspiring through another sweltering day, there are places in the world that are showing signs of fall. A new season is almost upon us.

I read somewhere that each person is built for a particular season of the year, and if that is true, then the season of my personality is autumn. Every year a thrill runs through my body as I notice that the days are getting shorter, the morning sun is heating the air a little slower, the sunset hues are slightly more somber. Even if summer was unbearable, there is still plentiful harvest. In wine country the grapes are being harvested, row by row, and there is reason to believe that vintage 2013 will be an exceptional one. Perhaps that is because the vines have had to struggle so much in the heat and strong winds. There was virtually no rain and so the roots have had to dig deep to find water and nutrients.

The change of seasons is inevitable. There is no summer too hot to keep autumn from coming. There is no winter that can prevent buds from breaking. No extreme can keep the earth from dancing and spinning to its ancient rhythm. No shackle can keep the unyielding redemption plan from going forward. No loneliness can change your status as beloved.

Perhaps this is a season to praise the virtue of relentlessness. Maybe your dreams of this season have been dashed and maybe you don't have a specific hope for the next one, but the seasons are relentless and for that reason I think we can be relentless too.

There is a moment in the film version of Return of the King that comes to mind. Aragorn addresses the men of Gondor who stand trembling at the Black Gates of Mordor as Frodo and Sam limp toward the fires of Mt. Doom:

I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day!

A day may come when I surrender to the barrenness of the desert life, when I stop anticipating a plentiful harvest and meals shared and wine poured around a grateful table. But it is not this day. 

A day may come when I give up on dreaming big dreams, when I let disappointments deter me from hoping and believing and pushing forward. But it is not this day. 

A day may come when I stop fighting for relationships that I treasure, when I let the obstacles and distances and problems win out and I forsake people I love. But it is not this day.

A day may come when I give up on rescue from exile, when I stop preparing the way of the Lord that will bring me home, lift up every valley, and bring low every mountain.  

But it is not this day.

It is not this season.
27 Aug 23:44

Writers Guide: How to Not Write a Book in 5 Easy Steps

by noreply@blogger.com (Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary)

Step One: 
Tell everyone you are definitely for sure going to write a book. 
Don't leave anyone out! Include your friends and your family and your neighbors and the people who work at Starbucks (And maybe Target. But, like, only if it comes up organically, otherwise you sound like a douche). Oh. And don't forget to tell your literary agent. She'll probably want to know. And if some fancy publishers buy you lunch and give you presents? Tell them, too.

Step Two:
Stare at your computer for a while. Like, at least two years.

Step Three:
Make a list of why you should definitely for sure NOT write a book. It doesn't need to be long.

  1. Books are permanent. You cannot delete a book. (i.e. If your book sucks, you're screwed.) 
  2. Book writing is hard. Blogs are easy to write because you just take an idea, pare it down to the bare essentials, and - BOOM! - you've got a nifty little blog post. But blog posts for books are hard to write because they need a lot more words and stuff. Also? I think they're called chapters.
  3. You don't have time. (Ha. I could write fiction!)
  4. The people who promise they'd read your book are all in on the same huge practical joke. But you love jokes! So if you write a book and no one reads it, it'll be hilarious! And sad. 
  5. You're too... Lazy? Scared? Stupid? Bad at writing? ADD? Tired? Chubby? Silly? Unworthy? Choose one or more, or write in your own ____________________________ .
  6. If you're distracted by a book project, who will post pictures of the cat on Instagram?! 

Knives needs his public.

Step Four:
Lie. Tell yourself you never wanted to write a book anyway. Sip your coffee and feel satisfied. I mean, this wasn't even your idea...

Step five: 
Repeat steps One thru Four. Until you die.


It's that easy, friends! I hope you find this guide useful on your journey toward not writing a book. Ever.

Good luck and God bless!

.....           .........         .....

So. How do you not write a book? Do share.  (I'll be right over here... staring at my computer. *heavy sigh*)


23 Aug 11:31

when God doesn’t make sense (exactly, yes, thank you, join the club)

by Peter Enns
Maggieranderson

Just thoughts. Not sure if I am on board with them necessarily.

My line of work brings me into contact with all sorts of Christian pilgrims on different stages of their journey. The fact that I’m not exactly sure what my line of work is is beside the point, still, for me there is something holy and at the same time deeply human when people feel the [Read More...]
21 Aug 17:19

designer breeds

by gemma correll

21 Aug 13:16

What is the burden of proof in the #Methodist #homosexuality debate?

by Morgan Guyton
Maggieranderson

I didn't read the whole thing, because it's long. But it started out good and I know you can read it faster than me! :)

Gay-Symbol-WallpaperIn the American justice system, all defendants are innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable shadow of doubt. Defense attorneys do not have to prove their client’s innocence; they just have to find enough holes in the prosecution’s argument to establish that they have not been proven guilty. But in the debate over Biblical interpretation on homosexuality, the burden of proof falls entirely on the defendants to prove their innocence. What if my fellow Methodists who are anti-gay had to provide not only isolated proof-texts and speculative translations of obscure Greek words but a coherent Biblical ethical explanation of why chaste monogamous homosexual partnerships are “incompatible with Christian teaching”? I think that would be a much more just and legitimate burden of proof.

Usually when Christians change their mind about homosexuality, it’s after spending time with gay Christians who are so obviously holy and spiritually mature that it becomes hard to maintain the belief that a chaste homosexual relationship has corrupted them, which all sin is supposed to do to people. I have shared the disorienting experience I had in 2002 when I worshiped in a LGBT Methodist church with people who, other than being gay, behaved exactly like conservative evangelical Christians in terms of their lifestyle, their zeal for holiness, and their love of the Bible.

One of the main arguments Paul makes in the course of the most popular anti-gay proof-text, Romans 1:18-32, is that sin always corrupts human nature and produces other sins. So when you encounter gay Christians who are plainly not “filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, covetousness, malice… envy, murder, strife, deceit, craftiness… [and who aren't] gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, rebellious toward parents,foolish, faithless, heartless, [and] ruthless” (v. 29-31), it seems very legitimate to ask whether the “shameless acts” Paul is talking about in verses 27-28 were sinful for a reason other than the genders involved (like promiscuity, adultery, recklessness, etc), even if Paul mentions their same-genderedness as evidence of the “unnaturalness” of what they are doing, which is a different matter.

If we dig into Romans 1 not for an issue-based proof-text, but for an underlying cause to the sin that is being described, then this sentence is a good summary: “They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator” (v. 25). Every time that we give our worship to something in God’s creation rather than God Himself, whether it be food, drugs, money, or sex, we will be corrupted as a result. That is the basic truth of idolatry. There are many other examples of how idolatry corrupts people that could be substituted for the examples Paul shares in this passage. And it seems like a fair question to ask whether same-genderedness as such makes sexual intimacy idolatrous, independent of whether or not Paul thinks it’s “unnatural,” which is different.

The fact that Paul has a 1st century Jewish view of what “natural” gender relations look like is not the same as a direct prohibition of homosexuality. Paul never directly prohibits homosexuality. He mentions same-gender sexual intimacy as part of a visceral image intended to elicit disgust that is however connected to an argument with an entirely different point.

Furthermore, the rhetorical purpose of Romans 1:18-32 is to set up his listeners for the point where he turns the tables on them in Romans 2:1, “Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things.” According to Doug Campbell and other scholars he cites in The Deliverance of God, Romans 1:18-32 is a pretty standard list of Gentile vices that Jewish evangelists would use in their pitch for Torah as the answer to everything. When we pay attention to Paul’s rhetorical strategy, it seems that he is recycling this list as part of disparaging the salvific sufficiency of Torah, so it has at most secondary importance and may only be relevant as a means of taking the listeners for a ride whose real purpose is to establish a repudiation of the law as a means for justification.

Now regarding the other two possible New Testament mentions of homosexuality, there are two obscure Greek words that show up in Paul’s lists of naughty people in 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 and 1 Timothy 1:9-11: malakoi (1 Corinthians only) and arsenokoitai (both places). The NIV has decided (in what I consider an exegetical crime against humanity) to confidently translate these two words as the active and passive partners in a homosexual act. In most translation of words of comparable obscurity, there are footnotes at the bottom of the page that say something like “Hebrew/Greek meaning disputed.” The fact that this is the exception to that rule reveals an agenda that goes beyond an impartial dedication to the text.

Malakos means “soft” or “effeminate.” It can be used to refer to men who are androgynous; it can also be used figuratively to refer to people who are “cowardly” or “morally lax,” meanings which would just as plausibly find their  way onto Paul’s naughty list. So what is the burden of proof here? Is it enough that malakos could have something to do with homosexuality or does it have to established beyond a shadow of doubt that it can only refer to homosexuality in order to translate it as meaning homosexuality? If I were the judge, I would toss malakos from the court record as inadmissible evidence, because of the multiple possibilities for its connotation.

So how about arsenokoitai? Anti-gay Bible scholar Robert Gagnon argues that Paul made up a new Greek word by putting together arsenos (man) and koite (bed) since these two words appear in the same sentence in the Greek Septuagint version of Leviticus 18:22 (Kai meta arsenos ou koimethese koiten gunaikos) and its reiteration in Leviticus 20:13 (Kai os an koimethe meta arsenos koiten gunaikos), both of which concern the prohibition of “men lying with men as they lie with women,” which I’ll address directly a little later below.

But how does the presence of the words “man” and “bed” in a compound word in the New Testament and in two sentences about sex in the Old Testament prove anything? The fact that arsenos and koiten are back to back in 20:13 isn’t a slam-dunk clincher. Do any two words back to back logically and naturally form a “phrase” with one another? What about the words “back logically” in the sentence I just wrote? Let’s say I write somewhere else, “Let’s get back to logic.” Does that mean that I’ve just made an explicit connection between those two sentences?

I certainly make speculative linguistic connections in my Biblical interpretation all the time, such as most recently connecting the theopneustos (God-breathed) in 2 Timothy 3:16 with the pneuma (wind) in John 3:8, but I would never give these speculations the weight of judging the legitimacy of other peoples’ existence.

The word arsenokoitai is literally “man-bedder.” Koite can definitely have a sexual figurative meaning in Greek, but why is a man-bedder a man-bedder-with-other-men? Why not a man who visits prostitutes or man who has soiled many beds (with women or men)? Even if you want to try to argue that malakoi and arsenokoitai go together (which is only the case in 1 Corinthians 6:9), you would be on much more solid ground etymologically to argue that they are the provider and client in a prostitution relationship than the passive and active partners in the homosexual act. There simply is no way to establish conclusively that the word refers to same-genderedness as such rather than also carrying the connotation of prostitution, promiscuity, or pederasty.

So does the New Testament condemn homosexuality? That depends. Is the burden of proof to establish that these three New Testament references could not possibly be talking about homosexuality or is it merely to establish that the sins they identify could possibly be something else? All that can be established is that Paul considered same-gendered sex to be “against nature” (para phusein). But that is different than a direct prohibition.

Furthermore, this is the same Paul who says, “I know and am persuaded in the Lord Jesus that nothing is unclean in itself; but it is unclean for anyone who thinks it unclean” (Romans 14:14) and “Those who are spiritual discern all things, and they are themselves subject to no one else’s scrutiny” (1 Corinthians 2:15) and “It is well for [people] to remain unmarried as I am, but… it is better to marry than to be aflame with passion” (1 Corinthians 7:8-9).

Paul is a pragmatic, ascetic mystic. He wants others to experience the same degree of union with Christ that he has experienced, but he’s a pragmatist about it. He doesn’t want to put impossible burdens on his followers that would more greatly inhibit them in their quest for holiness than living without those burdens. The highest form of sexuality to Paul is celibacy, presumably (per Romans 1:25) because it allows him to avoid any possible worship of creation that would corrupt His body’s capacity to be a temple of worship (1 Corinthians 6:19) for the Creator alone.

While Paul says, “I wish that all were [celibate] as I myself am” (1 Corinthians 7:7), he concedes that “because of cases of sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband” (v. 2). Notice that: marriage is not quite a vocation to him; it’s a pragmatic solution for sexual immorality. To him, sexual intimacy even within marriage is “a concession not a command” (v. 6), which would hardly be a popular view in today’s neo-patriarchal “celebrate sex within marriage” culture. Here is Paul’s explanation for his teachings about celibacy and marriage:

I want you to be free from anxieties. The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord; but the married man is anxious about the affairs of the world, how to please his wife, and his interests are divided. And the unmarried woman and the virgin are anxious about the affairs of the Lord, so that they may be holy in body and spirit; but the married woman is anxious about the affairs of the world, how to please her husband. I say this for your own benefit, not to put any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and unhindered devotion to the Lord. [vv. 32-35]

Free from anxieties. Does that sound anything at all like contemporary evangelical teachings about sex? Does that sound like teenage girls being told to wear knee length XXL t-shirts over their already modest one-piece swimsuits at youth pool parties? Does that sound like counseling boys and girls not to kiss until their wedding day if they’re even allowed to date at all? Does that sound like the obsession with masturbation among Christian men that actually causes it to be an irresistible temptation? Freedom from anxieties sounds like an awfully anthropocentric purpose for sexual ethics.

At the end of the paragraph, Paul talks about promoting good order and unhindered devotion to the Lord, which gives more flesh to what freedom from anxiety looks like in terms of the horizontal and vertical axes of the Great Commandment: loving neighbor and loving God. I would say that these three principles are the perfect Biblical ethical criteria for healthy sexuality within a community.

Even what I do in the supposed privacy of my own home impacts the “good order” of my community, because whatever happens in our sex lives impacts how we treat people outside of our sex lives. If my wife and I like to play sadomasochism games that cultivate demonic personality traits which inherently bleed over into our relations with other people, then it disrupts the good order of my community. If either of us violates our marital covenant by sleeping with someone else, then it’s not only a sin against our partner and any partner the other person has, but against our community’s cohesion as a whole because a whole network of friendships will be torn apart if we split up. Even if all the members of a community consent to being sexually polyamorous with each other, it’s still going to sabotage the good order of the community by stoking jealousy, pride, greed, lust, anger, and all the other degenerative dispositions Paul describes in Romans 1:29-31.

The latter principle of “unhindered devotion to the Lord” concerns the question of idolatry vs. worship. Are we having sex in such a way that causes us to worship creation rather than the Creator, or flesh rather than spirit? Paul’s wrestling in 1 Corinthians 7 expresses a clear ambivalence about the possibility of sex ever being an act of worship rather than idolatry. The Roman church shared this ambivalence until the last century when sex officially stopped being a necessary evil done for strictly procreative purposes. But I believe that I am truly worshiping God with my sex when I delight in my wife as a person instead of consuming her body to fulfill a biological need, because to see the full personhood of my wife in the midst of our closest intimacy is to see the image of God and to gain a foretaste of the ecstatic intimacy with God that heaven will one day be.

So to me, the burden of proof for a Christian who wants to maintain an opposition to homosexuality is to demonstrate why and how monogamous same-gendered sexual intimacy clutters people with anxiety, contradicts good community order, or hinders devotion to God? These are not just proof-texts; they are more than speculative translations of obscure Greek words or mentions in passing of what Paul thinks is “unnatural.” They are reliable ethical principles for a community’s sexuality that Paul presents as such.

The only anti-gay Christian argument I’ve heard that goes beyond surface-level proof-texting is to say that families need a male and a female parent. First of all, many gay partners that I’ve known are partly feminine and partly masculine in a complementary way, though I recognize that orientation and gender are not the same thing. If it were the case that gender complementarity were necessary to parenting, then an unusually effeminate man and a woman would not be a good pair for that reason. In any case, I don’t see any legitimate Biblical basis for the heteronormativity of families.

Sure, the Bible says that man and woman become flesh as the normal way that things work but that doesn’t make the normal normative. Jesus uses Genesis 2:24 prescriptively in a teaching against divorce (Mark 10:1-11), not against same-gendered union, so take that one out of your list of proof-texts. Likewise, when Paul says that men should love their wives like Christ loves the church (Ephesians 5:25), his prescriptive purpose is to get men to treat their wives like human beings and not property. It’s doing a whole lot of heavy lifting with very little legitimate exegetical evidence to say that the God’s ordained purpose for marriage is to make every husband reflect Jesus and every wife reflect the church on account of one puzzling verse in which Paul says he is “applying” the mystery of two fleshes becoming one “to Christ and the church” (v. 32).

Now there was a context in which patriarchal heterosexual households were necessary to the good order of the community, and that context explains the one place in the Bible where male homosexual intimacy is prohibited: Leviticus 18:22. This prohibition stands or falls today on the question of whether the sexual boundaries of Israelite patriarchy are the permanent Biblical prescription for maintaining the good order of a community, an order which in ancient Israel involved a very different assumption about sexual agency between genders than our world has today.

Patriarchy was the Torah’s means of ordering the Israelite community sexually and providing for the safety of its weakest members through a set of taboos around “uncovering the nakedness” of another man and his household. That phrase is repeated throughout Leviticus 18, the place where the Torah establishes the community’s sexual boundaries. Why are you forbidden to have sex with your neighbor’s wife? Because it uncovers your neighbor’s nakedness and is thus an act of violence against the social order, whether or not the act was consensual.

The entire taboo system that protects women and children from rape depends upon the preservation of a set of male heads of household who are not uncovering each others’ nakedness. If one of these men uncovers another man’s nakedness by “lying with him as he would lie with a woman,” the whole patriarchal order collapses and the households of both of those men have had their nakedness uncovered as well, since they’ve lost their patriarchal protector. The accounts of Sodom in Genesis 19 and Gibeah in Judges 19 show the Somalia-like “failed state” that an ancient society becomes when the patriarchal taboo boundaries have been breached completely and horny gangs of men rove the streets to rape whatever they find.

Every command given in Leviticus 18 presumes a male readership because men were assumed to be the only ones who had the authority to make decisions about sex. To make Leviticus 18 normative today means adopting this patriarchal view of sexuality in which men decide, women don’t, and fathers protect their daughters and husbands protect their wives from other men. The prohibition of male homosexuality in Leviticus 18 is inextricably linked with the presumed lack of female sexual agency under its patriarchal ethos.

This patriarchal order in which men lose their ability to protect their families when they sleep with other men is the best system for preventing sexual violence when there is no concept that a woman can say “no” to sex. In a social order where there is a concept of female sexual agency, Leviticus 18 becomes an obsolete framework even if most of its taboos happen to carry over to a non-patriarchal sexual ethics for an entirely different set of reasons, such as Paul’s ethical principles in 1 Corinthians 7.

The way that rape is handled in the Old Testament shows the utter lack of female agency in patriarchal sexuality. The solution to the problem of rape (given the approval of the girl’s father) was for the rape victim to marry her rapist, which is precisely what Absalom’s sister Tamar begs her half-brother Amnon to do when he rapes her in 2 Samuel 13. When he grabs her, she says, “Speak to the king; for he will not withhold me from you” (v. 13). The violence against Tamar and her lack of the right to say no is irrelevant even to her. Tamar’s concern is her permanent dishonor and ostracism in the community if her father King David is not asked permission for her body first.

Likewise when Jacob’s daughter Dinah gets raped by the prince Shechem in Genesis 34, the way to amend the situation is for her to marry Shechem, which is what Shechem proposes when he decides that he likes her as a person after raping her. There is no way of knowing what Dinah thinks about the whole affair because she is never given a voice throughout the entire story. When Jacob’s sons kill all of Shechem’s people, it is not because their sister got hurt; it’s because she “has been defiled” (v. 28). In other words, it is a question of family honor. When Jacob scolds his sons afterwards (v. 30), he shows that it would have been perfectly acceptable to him for Dinah to marry her rapist. Dinah’s sexuality is entirely a dispute between the men in her life; never once is she asked what she wants to do.

All of this is just to say that the ancient Israelite world was a world in which men were responsible for the sexuality of their daughters and wives; in such a world, a man cannot become “the woman” in a sexual relationship without the collapse of the entire social order. That’s the issue; it is not a question of “how God made us to be.” Homosexuality in a patriarchal context would have resulted in violence against women, because when women don’t have a say in their sexuality, their husbands and fathers and brothers need to be their uncompromised heterosexual protectors.

The world of first century Judaism that the apostle Paul inhabited continued to be a patriarchal world, though not to the same extreme as the Old Testament. To Paul, patriarchy was the “natural” order of things in gendered relations, which he makes pretty clear in 1 Corinthians 11:8-9, “Indeed, man was not made from woman, but woman from man. Neither was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man.” While he doesn’t state explicitly whether or not women should have a say in their sexuality, he does say in 1 Timothy 2:12-14, “I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.”

Of course, it’s also true that Paul says that there is no longer “male and female… for all are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28). So the question is whether Galatians 3:28 trumps Paul’s pastoral instructions regarding female subordination to men in 1 Corinthians 11, 1 Timothy 2, Ephesians 5, and other places. What level of hermeneutical gymnastics and speculation are you willing to entertain to get Paul off the hook for misogyny in these passages and others (e.g. speculating about some religious cult that Paul was trying to suppress in Corinth) that you’re not willing to entertain for the three much less unequivocal passages that deal with questions of homosexuality? If Galatians 3:28 is a trump card, then what does the lack of “male and female” distinctions in Christ Jesus do to what Paul says in Romans 1:26-27 about men and women “giving up natural intercourse for unnatural”?

If the burden of proof is the same for female leadership in the church and the Bible’s position on homosexuality (and you’re not allowing yourself to play the “cultural context” card), then the stack of proof-texts is much taller for the inadmissibility of female leadership in the church than for the prohibition of homosexuality. This is why the United Methodist Church’s fake “moderate” position in which it ordains women but not gays is utterly incoherent and clearly the product of social pressures and anxieties rather than consistent and faithful Biblical interpretation.

Any Christian denomination that has female clergy has already made the decision to disagree with Paul’s view of the “naturalness” of a patriarchal hierarchy of gender. It doesn’t mean the Holy Spirit didn’t speak through Paul authoritatively to recognize that he had views that should be expected of an incarnate 1st century Jew which aren’t normatively binding on us today (unless you’re willing to cover your heads in church, ladies, as a public profession of the inferiority of your gender, 1 Cor 11:8-10). I honestly think Paul is smacking his head every day in heaven that he sees us turn his letters to specific churches in Corinth and Ephesus into a new legalistic set of “circumcision” guidelines, analogous to the ones he goads the Galatians and Romans for enslaving themselves to, instead of eavesdropping on his conversations with 1st century Christians in order to gain the wisdom he shares about how to journey into union with Christ.

I agree with Paul that the essential underlying concerns for a community’s sexuality are to minimize anxiety, promote good order, and keep devotion to the Lord unhindered. And it is for that reason that I would not counsel gay Christians to spend their lives utterly alone if it’s going to result in a hindrance to their devotion to the Lord. Paul’s hopes in 1 Corinthians 7 about the potential for Christian singlehood notwithstanding, I know that my marriage actually tremendously decreased the anxiety that owned me when I was single and also became an important means by which God dramatically improved my devotion to Him. If gay people choose celibacy not out of guilt but out of desire for a deeper intimacy God, then I pray that God would honor their choice by showering them richly with His presence.

Ultimately, I believe that an orthodox Biblical view on homosexuality has the same range of interpretive possibility as other disputable matters that have at least as many and sometimes way more Biblical proof-texts we can throw around like whether or not men and women are equal, what to do with your wealth, whether we can participate in war, when to baptize people, whether or not to lend others money with interest, whether or not to drink alcohol, etc.

You don’t have to agree with everything I’ve said here to concede that it is a plausible (i.e. not exegetically dishonest) reading of scripture. If it is within the range of plausibility, then shouldn’t gay Christian believers discern for themselves whether the degenerative dispositions in Romans 1:29-31 represent what their lives would become in a monogamous same-gendered partnership? We should absolutely study scripture together in community, but there are so many other issues in which we don’t expect to come to an absolute conformity of interpretation.

As Methodists, we furthermore believe in the priority of scripture itself above tradition, which means that it always has the capacity to offer new revelations, regardless of how unanimously Christians in the past have supported things like slavery, imperial conquest, and the subjugation of women to about the same degree that they have opposed homosexuality. We are not burdened with the awkwardness of having to conform our interpretations to the magisterial infallibility of every pope that has ever lived. So if gay Christians discover a plausible interpretation of scripture that doesn’t attack the Bible’s authority but nonetheless allows for them in good conscience to live in committed, monogamous lifelong partnerships, then why should we stop them from pursuing ordained ministry if that’s God’s call on their lives?

Before you respond to this, can you look into your heart and tell me there is no need to prove yourself to any other person by what you say in response? Is there really no trace of worry about who would disown you as a Christian brother or sister if you admitted that a gay-accepting Biblical interpretation was plausible? Can you say that you’ve never questioned someone else’s professed Christianity based on their accepting views on homosexuality? Can you say that you’ve never made decisions about churches to join based on litmus-testing their homosexuality stance?

If you can’t answer yes to all of those questions, that’s not any judgment on you; it just means that you’re a more honest human being than most people. And it also means that you have an agenda other than mere fidelity to scripture that you bring to the table in thinking about this issue. I suppose I could be accused of having an agenda because my best friend from high school is gay and I was mothered by a church-full of lesbians when I was in my darkest year in 2002. But I have nothing to gain now by writing this other than my integrity.

Three years ago, I was sitting at a clergy meeting where I told two progressive clergywomen that I had come to Methodism through an LGBT church, but of course I hadn’t dared to write anything about that in my commissioning papers where I described my call to ministry. The look of betrayal on their faces when they expressed their disappointment in me has haunted me to this day. I believe it was a prophetic witness from God, to whom I have prayed for almost a year about the contents of this post before feeling like it was time for me to share it after my brother Craig Adams, a man of integrity, posed a question about it last fall.

I suppose it’s not a wise career move to have written this when I’m going up for ordination this winter. I am willing to honor my denomination’s official stance on this issue until it is changed, which I think will happen when enough Methodist leaders are willing to read the Bible with integrity and thoughtfulness instead of anxiously clutching to a supposedly “moderate” position out of fear that all the deep-pocket donors will walk out if we ever do change.

This is not a question of whether our denomination will we gain the millennials and lose the baby boomers or vice-versa. The question is whether our “Biblical faithfulness” is a superficial posturing that has no actual cost to us because it takes the form of scapegoating a category of people who have been made the way they are by a God who loves them and wants them to live fully. Or do we want to prayerfully consider what the Bible really has to say to us today about human sexuality, not just in the form of surface-level Jesus-jukes and proof-texts but in the deeper wisdom that results in healthy, well-ordered communities that are free of anxiety and unhindered in their devotion to God?


Filed under: Bible, General Topics, Theology
21 Aug 05:59

The Higher Hedonism

by Richard Beck
Smoking has become highly moralized in American society. Not only is it not cool, it's stigmatized.

But the point that I'd like to make about this is the relationship between smoking and socioeconomic status. As a 2012 scientific review put it, "Smoking prevalence is higher among disadvantaged groups." Which means that smoking is just one more way the rich can look down upon and morally judge the poor.

Why do the poor smoke more than the rich?

In Texas where I live a pack of cigarettes costs about $6.00. There are about twenty cigarettes in a pack. The average smoker smokes a half pack or less a day.

Basically, for about $3.00 you've got yourself a pleasurable activity to carry you through the day. Hedonically speaking, that's not a bad deal.

Of course, there is more to smoking than hedonic pleasure. There is the cancer risk, the odors to contend with (on your clothing or person and in your car or dwelling), and that social stigma we mentioned.

In the face of those negatives the rich opt for different pleasures. You know what I like to do? I like to go out to eat. Or to a movie. Or read a book. Or go on a vacation.

But all those hedonic pleasures cost more money. Let alone requiring a car. For example, it costs my family of four about $20 to eat at Taco Bell. Taco Bell. Twenty dollars. And anything beyond fast food is way, way more expensive than that.

Here's my point. When the rich want to do something pleasurable they usually go out to eat or to some entertainment. Or they go shopping.

And on top of all that, the rich go on vacations where they spend hundreds and thousands of dollars.

That's what hedonism looks like for the rich. Eating out, shopping, going to entertainments, taking vacations.

The poor, by contrast, smoke. It's a pleasure they can afford. But at the end of the day, despite the moralization smoking gets, it's no less hedonistic than the pleasures of the rich.
21 Aug 05:58

First Day: The Holding and the Letting Go

by michaboyett
Maggieranderson

Omg I'm not going to be able to handle this when it's our turn.

For months we’ve been talking about this. This thing is coming. This change. When all the baby wears off and all that’s left is the kid, the child. All those years that felt eternal. And suddenly–poof–he jumps on his bike and rides ahead of you while you run to keep up.

You take Sunday off from the book. You force your brain to stop thinking about what needs to be done and you do all the Home Things, making lunches after church and talking about the week. That’s when he realizes it’s happening tomorrow. This change. This new thing. How many times had you told him, visited the school? How many practice runs? But when he hears it, when it clicks in his mind, he panics. He cries, gasping his breaths and you hold him on the kitchen floor. You don’t want this either. You don’t want it to change. It is always changing. Later, you push the stroller beside the tiniest one on his balance bike. Toddler pace. When you arrive at Golden Gate Park, there are your son and husband, talking it out. We were all five years old once. We were all afraid once. It’s what we do with the fear that determines so much of who we become.

*

Your husband comes out of his bedroom–the night before–and his eyes are weepy. You hug him in the kitchen and you both cry. How did this happen? How did he grow up? It was not fast. They all say it goes fast. But that wasn’t the feeling. It was its impermanence. Every moment never lasts. The baby changes. And for every new thing gained, another is lost.

I wrote that in my book. I wrote it on his second birthday. How I felt like since the moment he came from my body, I’d been asked to give up more and more of him.

That’s what this was. It was another offering. Another act of remembering what’s real, what’s true. His life is not mine to hold. Every day, I give up more. Every day, he moves toward God.

Pancakes for breakfast and already he has a hair combing ritual. He wore his coolest pink shirt. He is his father’s son. And when we stood outside on the city sidewalk, holding the sign, he was lit bright. Ready for adventure.

 

Who doesn’t long for their child to be ready? To be hopeful and vulnerable? To carry possibility inside like a pearl, even as he enters a world that may break it, that hope?

I was breathing it out: that feeling of loss, that expectancy. To love a child is to always lose and to always gain, to work toward the shaping of a future man or woman, an adult who will one day leave the child behind.

And by the time the child is grown, you’ve given and lost until you’ve breathed its rhythm as God breathes our lives. Sunrise, Sunset. First day of school. Last day of school. And all the holding and letting go in-between.

 

20 Aug 11:47

In which I beg Barbie’s pardon

by Sarah Bessey

Dear Barbie | Sarah Bessey

Dear Barbie:

We’ve had a complex relationship, you and me. I adored you when I was a child. My sister and I concocted elaborate scenarios that went for years – years! – wherein we took you through school to university to a career to marriage to adventures to motherhood. You were our favourite pastime, and we loved you. Most of our Barbies were hand-me-downs from my cool older cousins, but you were so much more than dress-up games to us. You were the focus of the hours of my childhood during long prairie winters. We played Barbies from the time we were about six years old until I was nearly thirteen. (One of the saddest days of my little sister’s life was the day I declined to play Barbies on the grounds that I was now a teenager.)

But I grew up. I became a feminist, a staunch defender of the rights and dignity of women, and so of course – of course! – I began to mock you. I made fun of your proportions, of your impossible physique. I accused you of causing eating disorders in women and poor self-image in me. I swore I wouldn’t let any daughter of mine play Barbies! Never! Blonde, blue-eyed unrealistic perfection, impossible standards of beauty and deportment with gowns – gowns! who wears gowns but people who belong to things like junior league? Unrealistic, unhelpful, probably damaging. I mellowed as I got older, but I still had a vague distrust of you, Barbie, a sense that maybe you were harmful to us all.  I would strive for a Barbie-Free Zone.

Then I had a daughter. Two, in fact, but our youngest is a bit too young for Barbies, preferring to toss you about the room. (And a son, but he doesn’t play with Barbies so, you know.) My eldest received her first Barbie at the age of three from her Auntie, that first Barbie was a special rite of passage that meant a lot to my sister. My parents had saved the few Barbies who survived our childhood, and the box of old clothes was pulled out of storage. I was strangely happy to see them. We had a lot of good times, you and me. Now I was torn – of course we had positive associations with Barbie from our own childhood, but I don’t know if I should allow this. So I allowed the Barbie but my husband agreed with me, we should try to keep the Barbie thing to a minimum. It’s hard to completely escape Barbie culture but we would do our best.

Over the years, we steered her natural interests in science and math towards telescopes and bug kits, we taught her ride a two-wheeler, she dominated Lego building, we did every age-appropriate craft kit this side of the Fraser River. She played with her few Barbies now and then but not much, maybe she was still a bit young.

She’s well-rounded: bold, kind, smart, interesting, and creative, truly we’re so proud of our girl. But this summer, the Barbies began to dominate her playtime and it worried me. I thought I might look around for a Barbie alternative. So we walked around the sensory overload toy store together, on a mission to find a possible Barbie alternative, and I was confronted with the “dolls” that my daughter’s friends are playing with: Monster High and Bratz, particularly. I was stunned.

Unrealistic body expectations from Barbie?

Reality check – those dolls are ZOMBIES. With head trauma. And blue skin.

The clothes are appalling, their “careers” are as fashionistas and flirts, and let’s talk about the lollipop heads with gigantic eyes and lips and barely-there bodies. Desensitizing children to horror and gore isn’t my idea of a good time. Marketing fear isn’t a good plan for tinies, in my humble opinion, I like to guard their gates because I tend to think that if I set scary or evil or even just stupid things before their eyes and ears, then I can’t be surprised with the scary or evil or stupid things take up residence in their hearts and minds. Plus I’m old-fashioned enough – even as a feminist – to like doll clothes to look like something one could actually wear to school without ending up in the principal’s office on dress code violations.

All of a sudden, dear Barbie, you looked like the more healthy and age-appropriate choice.

I began to rethink my distrust. After all, the argument could be made that you are a feminist icon: fifty years of careers ranging from doctor to teacher and all points between. You seem to have a lot of friends and interests – my daughter always has her little gang of Barbies working together to solve problems, you see. You’re a big sister, too, and a good friend. I think some part of her also likes that a few of her Barbies look like her – blonde hair and blue eyes – but she has Barbies of different nationalities and appearances, too. There’s a Barbie for every little girl now, and I’ve got my eye on a little dark-haired beauty for my youngest daughter’s third birthday coming up. You’ve changed with the times: maybe your original iterations make me want to throw up a little bit, but today, I think you’re doing a pretty good job at the role model thing.

I don’t think playing dolls is an inherently ‘girlie’ thing to do but the truth remains that my daughter – who didn’t like playing “mama” to her doll babies in the least – wanted to play Barbies. If I had to choose between Monster High, Bratz, and Barbie, well, sign me up for the Barbie Dream House so I can get ready for the disco after I head off to my career as Palaeontologist Barbie for the day.

A few months into our tentative Barbie experiment now, I have watched my daughter spend the summer with you. Here is what happened: She’s concocting elaborate and empowering imagination stories, and this makes my heart sing.

Her favourite Barbie is her Mars Explorer Barbie because she wants to be an astronaut. At this moment, she’s using her old receiving blankets to create a Mars replica. She’s converted her little Barbie car to a space ship, the Veterinarian Barbie is the controller back at the launch pad. Her Strawberry Shortcake dolls set up a bakery on Mars, the Legos are in use, the telescope is out, too. She plans on teaching school to her classroom of Barbies later. She’s happy, she’s creative, she’s dreaming, she’s having fun.

What more could a mother want for her daughter?

So, dear Barbie, I beg your pardon. You’re not perfect. I still have a few complaints. But overall, compared to everything and all things considered, I’m happy to welcome you back to my home.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I am the Official Hair Braider because all of your long hair does get in the way of our planned safari on the moon later today. I hid the scissors, you can thank me later.

Affectionately,

Sarah

 

The post In which I beg Barbie’s pardon appeared first on Sarah Bessey.

20 Aug 00:54

Blessed are the Tricksters

by Richard Beck
Did you ever notice how trickery is rewarded in the book of Genesis?

Consider how Abraham twice--twice!-- passes off his wife Sarah as his sister. He first does this with Pharaoh, and is reward handsomely for the deception (Genesis 12.16): "Pharaoh treated Abram well for her sake, and Abram acquired sheep and cattle, male and female donkeys, male and female servants, and camels."

Later on Abraham does the same with Abimelek and, once again, makes out like a bandit (Genesis 20.14-15): "Then Abimelek brought sheep and cattle and male and female slaves and gave them to Abraham, and he returned Sarah his wife to him. And Abimelek said, 'My land is before you; live wherever you like.'"

Protestants tend to moralize these passages, arguing that Abraham's deception is sinful. But the text suggests quite the opposite. Abraham is handsomely rewarded for his trickery in both cases.

Why might that be?

Here's my best guess. In both cases Abraham is the weaker player. In both cases Abraham is fearful for his life:
Pharaoh / Genesis 12.12
"When the Egyptians see you, they will say, ‘This is his wife.’ Then they will kill me..."

Abimelek / Genesis 20.11
Abraham replied, “I said to myself, ‘There is surely no fear of God in this place, and they will kill me because of my wife.'"
I'd suggest that Abraham's trickery is rewarded in the story because trickery is one of the few weapons the powerless possess in the face of the powerful. Deception and subterfuge are often the only weapons available to the oppressed and marginalized. Consequently, in Genesis we often see deception and subterfuge rewarded when used by the weaker against the stronger. Deception is found to be virtuous in the story when it is used to interrupt the powerful.

Consider also, as other examples, Jacob's trickery of Esau and Tamar's trickery of Judah. In these cases we also see the weaker--the second born, a woman--overcome the stronger--the first born, a male patriarch--with trickery. And in both cases the trickery is rewarded. As it was with Abraham.

In short, the Sunday School moralization of trickery and deception in Genesis (e.g., Abraham should not have told a lie) misses the commentary about power relations running through the narrative.

(Incidentally, I would expect that there is a scholarly literature about the trickster theme in Genesis, but I've not taken the time to search it out. These are just observations off the top of my head as I was recently reading through the Abraham narratives. Observations like, "Hey, look how Abraham keeps getting rich by lying about his wife!")
15 Aug 14:37

Honesty in the Journey (or On the Raising of Young Heretics)

by Peter Enns
Nearly twenty years ago, my oldest was six years old. One of our bedtime routines was a brief Bible reading. One evening we found ourselves in the Garden of Eden story—Adam and Eve, a piece of fruit, and a snake with vocal chords. As I read, my son kept sighing, as if impatient with my [Read More...]
15 Aug 13:01

On sinning no more…

by Rachel Held Evans
'Stone Sculpture' photo (c) 2010, Lauren Tucker - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

How’s that working out for you? 

The "go and sin no more" thing? 

Because it’s not going so well for me. 

I’ve known Jesus for as long as I’ve known my name, and still I use other people like capital to advance my own interest, still I gossip to make myself feel important, still I curse my brothers and sisters in one breath and sing praise songs in the next, still I sit in church with arms folded and cynicism coursing through my bloodstream, still I talk a big game about caring for the poor without doing much to change my own habits, still I indulge in food I’m not hungry for and jewelry I don’t need, still I obsess over what people say about me on the internet, still I forget my own privilege, still I talk more than I listen and complain more than I thank, still I commit acts of evil, still I make a great commenter on Christianity and a lousy practitioner of it. 

But Jesus pours out his mercy, staying the hand of my accusers again and again and again.  I go, stepping over scattered stones, forgiven, grateful, and free. 

I go, but I do not sin no more. 

Do you? 

They were doing the “biblical,” thing you know—the religious scholars and leaders who surrounded the woman caught in adultery that day. They probably had Leviticus 20:10 at the ready:

“If a man commits adultery with another man's wife--with the wife of his neighbor--both the adulterer and the adulteress are to be put to death.”

 They wanted to see if this Jesus fellow who ate with tax collectors and prostitutes and who touched the ritually impure, could be tough on sin. So they picked a clear-cut sin with a clear-cut consequence—a biblical slam dunk— and passed around the stones. 

“The Bible says we should stone this woman?” they challenged Jesus, “What do you say?” 

Would he be so foolish as to contradict God’s Word? It would be the ruin of this ministry! 

I wish we knew what the carpenter scribbled in the sand that day. Lists of names? Lists of sins? Something about how God desires mercy over sacrifice? Inscrutable doodles meant to redirect the crowd’s judgmental gaze? 

“Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her,” Jesus finally says before crouching to the earth again, the God who formed us out of dust covered in it. 

The gospel notes that it was the oldest in the crowd who left first. They knew. 

One by one, the religious elite dropped their stones and walked away. Seems the sinning no more thing wasn’t working so well for them either. 

Woman, where are they? Jesus asks after they have gone. “Has no one condemned you?”

“No sir.” 

I imagine she was still trembling. 

“Then neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” 

It’s one of just two times in his recorded ministry that Jesus said this—“go and sin no more”—and I don’t believe for a second he expected this woman to do such a thing...at least not forever, at least not for good.  

He knew she was not so different from the religious leaders who surrounded her, not so different from you and I.  He knew that hers would be invisible stones, the kind she’d grip tighter each time she saw the man who once shared her bed but not her public humiliation, each time she heard the whispers of her neighbors or the loud, pretentious prayers of the men who had grabbed her and surrounded her and threatened to kill her, each time she heard rumors that the person who saved her would himself be put to death. 

She would sin, no doubt. 

But perhaps she would think twice before casting those stones. Perhaps she would stop for a moment to consider the irony of becoming just like her accusers. 

We tend to look down our noses at these ancient people with their purity codes regulating everything from the fibers in their clothes to the people they touched. But we have our own purity codes these days—people we cast out from our communities or surround with Bible-wielding mobs, labels we assign to those who don’t fit, conditions we place on God’s grace, theological and behavioral checklists we hand out before baptism or communion, sins real or imagined we delight in taking seriously because we’d like to think they are much more severe than our own. 

“Let’s not forget that Jesus told that woman to go and sin no more,” Christians like to say when they're afraid this grace thing might get out of hand. 

Lord have mercy.  

Of all the people in that story, we’ve gone and decided we’re the most like Jesus.

I think it’s safe to say we’ve missed the point. 

We’ve missed the point when we quote the Gospel of John like the Pharisees quoted Leviticus to justify a gathering mob. 

We’ve missed the point when we use it to condemn rather than convict.  

We’ve missed the point when we turn this story into a stone.

*** 

See also: "Breaking Bad and the Evil Within Us All" 

*** 

UPDATE: I made a few changes to my depiction of Jesus' response to the woman based on Matt's suggestion below in the comment section, which you should definitely read. Grateful for your feedback. 

 

15 Aug 12:58

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, Updated: Security, Health, Growth & Purpose

by Susan Cain
Abraham Maslow

In 1943 Abraham Maslow published “A Theory of Human Motivation“, proposing what he thought to be the most necessary elements humans needed in order to lead successful, healthy, happy lives.

A lot has changed in the world since 1943. So Charlie Kim, Founder and CEO at Next Jump, took it upon himself to modernize Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Here is Charlie’s version:

We use business as a platform to build people of higher character. Maslow created a framework for what human beings needed to succeed and feel fulfilled in life. That was in the 1900s, in the manufacturing age when 80% of the country earned their living working at a factory. Fast forward to today, the information age. The greatest asset of every company is its people. So what is the updated framework for fulfilled happy human beings?


Read the rest @ Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: UPDATED | NextJump.com

How about you? What do you think matters most for a fulfilled and happy life?

14 Aug 15:38

science-is: Every street in the United States. All Streets...

Maggieranderson

This is Zoe McDougal's tumblr, and this is an awesome poster.











science-is:

Every street in the United States.

All Streets consists of 240 million individual road segments. No other features — no outlines, cities, or types of terrain — are marked, yet canyons and mountains emerge as the roads course around them, and sparser webs of road mark less populated areas. 

Buy the poster.

05 Aug 15:45

Jane Austen & Bank of England Declare: ‘…there is no enjoyment like reading!’

by Susan Cain

Jane-Austen-ten-pound-noteJane Austen, world renowned English author, had a particular talent for writing developed characters, many of them introverts. Beginning in 2016, 200 years after her novels were published, “good quiet Aunt Jane” — as described by her family and friends who understood her private, introverted nature — will be celebrated, quite publicly, on the reverse of the Bank of England’s new 10-pound note.

Oyez! Oyez!

It is hereby announced that the reverse of the new Bank of England ten-pound note will bear the image of Jane Austen and her quote, “I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading!”

There is hope!


Read more: Jane Austen to grace Bank of England new 10-pound note ~ BostonHerald.com Above quote: Posted by Ray D. on my Facebook Fan Page.

05 Aug 15:37

Chasing the Light

by sheloves

by sheloves

by Melody Hanson | @melodyhhanson

Melody_LightI’m celebrating that I’ve been sober for five years.

Sometimes I describe my sobriety as chasing the light because more often than I like to admit, I’m heavy with an awareness of the wreckage in my dark heart.

Usually the weight of addiction drapes over me like the thick, humid air of our Wisconsin summers. As I ran today, I felt each breath heavy inside me, cloying and bogging me down. I recognized its gloomy encumbrance. (Lest you think I’m an athlete, let me assure you, I’m quite feeble. Exercise is one of my spiritual disciplines.)

But that’s how addiction feels, even with five years of sobriety–like an unwieldy liability I cannot shake. Many days I am kicking and screaming, resenting it, deep inside, where I am still a spiritual child. Oh, I pray to be wise, resilient and strong and seek disciplines to grow into a spiritually authentic person. But honestly, this is often stirred by a longing to live without so much disbelief, depression and ache.

Today as I sit with pride in “my” accomplishment, I’d rather have proof that a benevolent God helped me to stay sober or have a promise that God will one day heal me of depression, anxiety and alcoholism. I lack assurance that my recovery isn’t simply due to my self-control and inner strength. I want to be healed. I am learning to live with this tension.

——–

I suppose I have never grown out of questioning and searching, living with large doses of doubt, forever asking:

Why is there pain and suffering?

Why is there so much ignorance?

Why are people born into privilege?

Why are people born in garbage dumps?

Why is skin color, race, class, sexuality or gender used to hurt, exclude and punish or to build up and empower?

Why are poverty, sexism, homophobia, and racism found in the Church? 

Why is the WORD of God so mysterious and perplexing to grasp, problematic, even incomprehensible? 

Why are some people angry while others seem to be full of joy? 

Why am I an alcoholic?

When I look past the power and pretense, I find the profound mystery of grace, hope and transformation, of order and light; it is there I comprehend that Jesus is the Light of the world, penetrating all my questions and doubts. Jesus’ death and sacrifice help make sense of the chaos and randomness for me. The answer is found inexplicably in the hope of a triune God, who always was, and is and is to come.

I’m engulfed in God’s dazzling light.

I cannot defend intellectually the relief or restoration that I have found in discovering this grace and love, but I hope others notice that I am being altered, mended a little more every day. I sense down deep in my marrow, where I was once a shattered person, that I am being remade. Not cured, but made well. I feel God’s grace surround me like a caring mother Eagle, whose wings cover and protect, as mentioned in the Psalms. My alcoholism teaches me about God’s grace as I forgive myself. I know addiction is an illness, but I was a falling down drunk once and this awareness takes a toll on the soul.

——–

The child, now woman, who more days than not wakes up afraid, awash with dread that she’s unworthy (beyond all logic, unworthy)–that person is everywhere. She is Humanity. She may be you. She is certainly me.

I am immersed in the hope of Jesus by choosing to look for that light every day.

Once I was brainwashed by bitterness, soiled by abuse, unable in my own strength to feel human or even capable of loving others. Today, I pray for grace upon grace. I pray to see the dazzling and mysterious light.

And through the effort of therapy and spiritual disciplines, and God’s mysterious love, I am somehow being restored, slowly. I am becoming a strong and empathetic person, who believes loving God and loving others to be the highest aspirations one can have. And most significantly, I am learning that I am capable of giving and receiving this love.

I am an addict. I will always be an alcoholic recovering. Still, God has remade me–not me in my own strength, but me through God’s power finally able to express Mother-love even while feeling unlovable. God has helped me to stay sober for five years, slowly working the 12-steps in my own way. It wasn’t quick, this reshaping, change and healing, and it isn’t finished. Jesus is still transforming and redeeming all the dark places within me.

In all this and more, Jesus weeps for me, whispering words of truth in my ear. You are my beloved.

In her recent book, Help.Thanks.Wow., Anne Lamott, a fellow addict, reminds me: “Sometimes pain can be searing and it is usually what does us in … It unfolds and you experience it, and it is so horrible and endless that you almost give up … But grace can be the experience of a second wind, when even though what you want is clarity and resolution, what you get is stamina and poignancy and the strength to hang on.”

And so, the cycle of life unfurls full of heartache and anguish.

We must cling to spiritual strength–for friends get sick and die, people are self-destructive or addicted, kids suffer mental illness, and desperate people kill themselves. These are people we love and pray for.

We must live with all the questions we cannot answer, with the sting of life’s frequent heartache.

——–

Most days I’m not “celebrating” my sobriety. Most days are ordinary. I sit brooding in the early morning darkness, still anxious about the unknowns, riddled with old fears which threaten. But then I remember, and it is a holy remembering, that I can choose each day to look for God’s mysterious and dazzling light casting the shadows that surround me. I’m sustained, even for a moment serene. This gives me the desire to love and be loved, again today.

One day at a time.

——–

About Melody:

Melody Hanson pic

Hi, I’m Melody, a compassionate over thinker, an indebted contemplative, an incessant seeker. I’m grateful that God’s grace changes me continuously. I collect and disperse words and images at www.logicandimagination.com.

The post Chasing the Light appeared first on SheLoves Magazine.

27 Jul 20:38

Your cat. Your choice.

by Kerry

Submission-wise, it’s been a slow week. So, hey, why not open the can of worms that is The Great Outdoor Cat Debate? (Eeek.)

Amy says her Atlanta neighborhood is constantly plastered with “missing cat” signs. This one, though, was a little different.

If you own a gray tabby cat with a collar, read this. Your cat is spending its days in my backyard. I have bird feeders and there are chipmunks around. When I try to be nice to the cat to be able to read its collar and find out where its home is, it hisses and growls. This is fair warning. The next time I see your cat in my backyard, I will throw something heavy at it. I have pretty good aim. So if you don't want a vet bill, keep your cat indoors. If it kills a bird at one of my feeders, I will hire someone to catch it and take it to animal control. Your cat. Your choice.

related: Barking Mad

27 Jul 20:37

Doubt and Universalism: Being Hopeful and Dogmatic

by Richard Beck
Awhile back I wrote this reflection for the forum I host at the Evangelical Universalism Forum:

People often make a distinction between being a hopeful versus a dogmatic universalist.

You're a hopeful universalist if you desire, wish or hope that universal reconciliation in Christ be true but just can't bring yourself to believe it to be true, likely because of how you read the bible. You're a dogmatic universalist if you are convinced that universal reconciliation in Christ is true, likely because you have come to believe that the bible does, in fact, support universal reconciliation in Christ.

People often ask me if I'm a hopeful or a dogmatic universalist. And my answer is that I'm both. I'm both hopeful and dogmatic.

Which might seem paradoxical, so let me explain that.

Truth be told, I'm really not a dogmatic universalist. Why? Because I'm not dogmatic about anything. I struggle with too many doubts. There are days when I wonder if God exists. So how can I, if I'm wavering on that big question, feel dogmatic about a very particular vision of the afterlife? You have to get the cart before the horse.

So why do I argue so vociferously for universal reconciliation in Christ? Because I think universal reconciliation in Christ is the only view of the afterlife that gives the Christian faith moral, biblical, intellectual and theological coherence. I'm dogmatic about that, about how universal reconciliation in Christ is the only view that makes sense when you really investigate the other options. In light of that, I'd say I'm more of a polemical universalist than a dogmatic universalist. I'm polemical in that I argue--strongly--that universal reconciliation in Christ is the only view that makes Christianity morally, biblically and theologically coherent and that all the other options--e.g., eternal conscious torment, conditionalism, and annihilationism--make Christianity morally, biblically and theologically incoherent (if not monstrous). I'll argue that deep into the night and into the next day. That's the polemical part. But being polemical--arguing the merits of your view against the weaknesses of alternative views--isn't the same as being dogmatic. Because at the end of the day, do I know if any of this is really true? I don't.

And that is what makes me a hopeful Christian universalist. Because of my doubts, I'm not dogmatic that any of this is true.

But I sure hope it is.
27 Jul 20:19

Evangelicals and Evolution: expecting from the Bible what it’s not set up to deliver?

by Peter Enns
Christians have been butting heads with evolution since the 19th century. A lot is at stake. If evolution is right about how humans came to be, then the biblical story of Adam and Eve–which has been answered the question of human origins for almost 2000 years–isn’t. Those who believe that God himself is in some [Read More...]
27 Jul 08:47

Why I can’t stay angry (even though I want to)

by Rachel Held Evans

Sometimes I get angry. 

I get angry when a young woman describes what it felt like to watch men stand up and leave the sanctuary when she approached the podium to give her first sermon. I get angry when evangelical leaders show more concern for protecting the powerful at Sovereign Grace Ministries than protecting vulnerable children. I get angry when my most reasoned arguments are dismissed as “emotional” and “shrill” or when people question my commitment to my faith because I accept evolution or support women in ministry. I get angry when confronted with Jamie Wright’s real talk about the sex trade in South East Asia or when a young gay man cries into my shoulder as he recounts being turned away from his church.

I get angry when I overhear people at a restaurant talking about how they hope the verdict in the Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman case will “teach those people to show some respect.”(Yes, this happened.)  I get angry when, like Paul, “what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do."

(And it’s not just noble stuff either. You should see me when we lose our internet connection.)  

I don’t think  anger is inherently wrong. Anger is part of what it means to be human, to be empathetic, to be engaged, to recognize sin for what it is, to be tenderhearted and vulnerable,  to be awake in this world. Throughout Scripture we encounter a God is angered by injustice and the neglect of the poor.  Jesus expressed anger at those who exploited the poor and vulnerable, who harmed children, and who “shut the door to the Kingdom in people’s faces” through religious legalism and exclusion.   As N.T. Wright has said, “To deny God’s wrath is, at bottom, to deny God’s love. When God sees humans being enslaved… if God doesn’t hate it, he is not a loving God.”  

We are right to be angered by inequity and injustice, whether inflicted upon ourselves or on other people. And we have to be very careful of telling other people—particularly those in the process of healing— when they ought to be angry, when they ought to forgive, or when they ought to “move on.” 

But if Jesus is our example, if being fully human and fully God looks like this carpenter from Nazareth, we know that the evil within ourselves and in this world cannot be conquered by hate but must be overcome with love. 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy,” Jesus says in a particularly annoying part of the Sermon on the Mount, “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven."

I struggle with this….like, big time. 

A skeptic who is prone to cynicism, and a contemplative who is prone to indulgence, I find myself sinking into a state of bitterness from time to time. I lose hope—in myself, in others, in the Church, in God.  I forget that we know the ending to this story and that it involves a lovely bride and a big banquet, and instead I assume the worst of other people, expecting the worst from this world.   

But I know from experience that bitterness weakens a strong argument. 

It breaks down dialog. 

It gets in the way of change. 

It weighs me down. 

Anger, I think, is meant to wake us up, to provide clarity and direction. It’s meant to be a starting point, the gun that sounds at the start of a race, a catalyst. 

Bitterness lulls us back to sleep. It paralyzes us with “why bother?” and “it’s no use.” It grabs us like a rip tide and pulls us away from shore. Eventually, it drowns us. 

As a wise friend recently said, “Anger is suppose to be a flash fire that burns away the chaff and leaves clarity in its wake. To linger in anger or to make anger and wrath the first choice response is to burn out the humanity within you.”

I recently bumped into a fascinating article about how Martin Luther King Jr. processed and harnessed his own anger, which was certainly justified and certainly real. The article, written by Hitendra Wadhwa back in January, is entitled “The Wrath of a Great Leader,” and it quotes extensively from Dr. King’s autobiography. 

Recalling a particularly frustrating negotiation around the bus boycott in Montgomery, Dr. King wrote that “on two or three occasions I had allowed myself to become angry and indignant. I had spoken hastily and resentfully. Yet I knew that this was no way to solve a problem. 'You must not harbor anger,' I admonished myself. 'You must be willing to suffer the anger of the opponent, and yet not return anger. You must not become bitter. No matter how emotional your opponents are, you must be calm.'"

When his home in Birmingham, Alabama was bombed by white extremists, he wrote: "While I lay in that quiet front bedroom, I began to think of the viciousness of people who would bomb my home. I could feel the anger rising when I realized that my wife and baby could have been killed. I was once more on the verge of corroding hatred. And once more I caught myself and said: 'You must not allow yourself to become bitter'."

“You must not allow yourself to become bitter.”

I’m writing that on a sticky note to put above my desk as we speak. 

Dr. King didn’t tell his followers not to be angry. He told them to turn their anger into constructive (nonviolent) action.  In a 1968 article he said, "The supreme task [of a leader] is to organize and unite people so that their anger becomes a transforming force."

 Or, as Ghandi famously said, "I have learnt through bitter experience the one supreme lesson to conserve my anger, and as heat conserved is transmuted into energy, even so our anger controlled can be transmuted into a power that can move the world." 

As Christians work to find our prophetic voices in this culture, as we engage the world and one another in areas of disagreement, we must take these words to heart. Like it or not, we are called to a higher standard; we are called to forgive, to be peacemakers, to extend grace to those who don’t deserve it. 

And even as I type those words I don’t want to do it—not for Mark Driscoll, not for the folks defending Sovereign Grace, not for those jerks at the restaurant. 

I’ve been thinking lately that the hardest part of fundamentalism for me to leave behind is the part  that equates rightness with righteousness, the part that makes "winning" the goal. 

Because I like winning arguments. 

No, I LOVE winning arguments. 

No, if I could marry winning arguments and cuddle with winning arguments every night while we watched ’30 Rock’ reruns together, I probably would. 

And yet I feel God’s presence most profoundly when I give up—not on making the argument,  but on winning it. I know God’s love with more certainty, not when I’ve proven it, but when I’ve experienced it and when I’ve extended it.  I find the most peace when like Dallas Willard I “practice the discipline of not having to have the last word.” 

It’s possible, I suppose, to win an argument and lose your soul. 

Jesus said we are to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, and that bugs me because I like people to know I’m wise, that I’m not some naïve girl they can toy with, and I’ve convinced myself that the only way to prove my wisdom is to strike with venom in my teeth, to cause pain. 

But Jesus doesn’t say we are to be naïve. He doesn’t say we are to be stupid as doves or naïve as doves or obnoxiously cheery as doves (no offense to doves here). He says we are to be harmless as doves.  So if I’m going to become this awesome Jesusy-snake-dove creature, I guess I’m going to have to find something else to do with all this venom….like donate it to the antidote bank or something, as snakes do. 

After all, the words Jesus promises at the end of this journey aren’t “Congratulations! You were right!” The words Jesus promises at the end of this journey are, “Well done my good and faithful servant.” 

Good. Faithful. Angry. Hopeful. Wise.  Harmless. Cunning. Gentle. 

Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not telling you not to be angry. You may be in an important season of healing in which anger is healthy and important and necessary for growth. 

And I’m certainly not telling you to stop making the case for justice—for women, for LGBT people, for the poor, for the marginalized, for the abused, for yourself. 

I’m telling you why I can’t stay angry, even though sometimes I want to. 

I can’t stay angry because it debilitates me. It makes me unhappy and it makes the people around me unhappy. 

I can’t stay angry because I genuinely believe change is possible, and so I need to practice seeing that capacity for change in myself, in the Church, in those with whom I disagree, even in my enemies. Only then can we draw it out together. 

I can’t stay angry because on good days I believe that love wins. 

And I can’t stay angry because even on bad days I can’t get rid of the stubborn hope that maybe someday this little mustard seed of faith in me will grow into a tree after all. 

Pope Francis recently told the enormous crowds who had gathered in Rio for World Youth Day, “You are often disappointed by facts that speak of corruption on the part of people who put their own interests before the common good. To you and all, I repeat: Never yield to discouragement, do not lose trust, do not allow your hope to be extinguished.”

Reminds me of Jesus' words, "Do not let your hearts be troubled."  

I’m not telling you not to be angry. 

I’m telling you not to give up hope. 

 

26 Jul 00:31

Liberals As the New Puritans

by Richard Beck
In my book Unclean I discuss the research of Jonathan Haidt regarding the five moral foundations and how they are deployed by liberals and conservatives. For the purposes of this post we can summarize by noting that liberals tend to restrict their moral judgments to issues related to harm and justice where conservatives appeal to additional moral criteria like sanctity and purity. Liberals care more about things like fairness where conservatives worry more about things like contamination.

But not so fast, says Mark Oppenheimer, in a recent article in the New Republic. Oppenheimer argues that many liberals have been overtaken by a neurotic fear of contamination, making them the "new Puritans."

Oppenheimer's analysis was prompted by Portland's recent refusal to allow for the fluoridation of their water, a vote driven by liberal fears of contamination, a fear that Oppenheimer is increasingly seeing on the left:
Today, of course, while the right still dabbles eagerly in the anti-fluoride, anti-vaccination, and other anti-science pathologies, the left may be the even greater culprit. Certainly the anti-fluoride coalition in Portland depended more on self-identified liberal voters than on conservatives. But there are key differences in how liberals and conservatives come by their fears. On the right, these mental illnesses stem from fear of government. On the left, their origins are a bit harder to pin down, but as I see it, they stem from an old mix of righteousness and the fear of contamination—from what we might recognize as Puritanism.
Oppenheimer goes on to give some other examples of these puritanical fears of contamination from a child's birthday party he attended:
Let me give another example of left-wing Puritanism in action, one less glaring than the Portland referendum but which will be recognizable to many of you. Last month, at a birthday party for a three-year-old, I was hit with the realization that most of the parents around me were in the grip of moral panic, the kind of fear of contamination dramatized so well in The Crucible. One mother was trying to keep her daughter from eating a cupcake, because of all the sugar in cupcakes. Another was trying to limit her son to one juice box, because of all the sugar in juice. A father was panicking because there was no place, in this outdoor barn-like space at some nature center or farm or wildlife preserve, where his daughter could wash her hands before eating. And while I did not hear any parent fretting about the organic status of the veggie dip, I became certain there were such whispers all around me.

Like any moral panic, nobody was immune to its contagion. Soon, I was fretting—but for different reasons. For all I knew, some of these kids weren’t immunized, and they were fed only unpasteurized milk. The other parents were worried about germs and microbes and genetically modified apricots—I was worried about the parents. I was surrounded by the new Puritans: self-righteous, aspiring toward a utopian perfectionism, therefore condemned to perpetual anxiety—and in their anxiety, a threat to me and my children. 
I don't know about you, but I've also observed this sort of contamination panic among my liberal friends. And the most profound point that Oppenheimer makes, in my opinion, is how this new liberal puritanism has been increasingly co-opting what used to be the core of progressive, liberal politics. Rather than, say, strengthening the labor/union movement to stand up for and protect a vanishing middle class liberal puritans are worried to the point of obsession about things like sugar and anti-bacterial soap:
[T]hinking that Puritanism—whether a preference for organic foods or natural fibers or home-birthing—is somehow constitutive of a liberal politics is rather insulting to liberalism. Most of the middle-class “liberal” parents I know have allowed lifestyle decisions about what they wear, eat, and drive to entirely replace a more ambitious program for bettering society; they have no particular beliefs about how to end poverty or strengthen the labor movement, and they don’t understand Obamacare, or really want to. It’s enough that they make their midwife-birthed children substitute guava nectar for sugar...

They say hygienic reform; I say the 30-hour work week and not stressing if my children eat Kix. Liberalism, as the political philosopher Corey Robin has recently argued, should be above all about freedom. The best reasons to want a labor union, or universal health care, or Social Security are to be free of worry, want, and privation, and to be out from under the hand of the boss. It makes no sense to re-enslave ourselves with fear, worry, and stress.
I couldn't agree more. Too many liberals "have allowed lifestyle decisions about what they wear, eat, and drive to entirely replace a more ambitious program for bettering society; they have no particular beliefs about how to end poverty or strengthen the labor movement, and they don’t understand Obamacare, or really want to." This is just one of the reasons why I'm increasingly disillusioned with liberalism in its current American manifestations.

I'm with Oppenheimer on this. Let's spend more time talking about, say, how to reinvigorate the labor movement and less time stressing about if my children eat Coco Puffs.
...
Read Mark Oppenheimer's full article (he has some great stuff in there, for example how eating fast food is a form of feminist politics): The New Puritans: When Did Liberals Get So Uptight?
21 Jul 08:16

In which I link you up (vol. 30)

by Sarah Bessey
Maggieranderson

Read "grandma's experiences..."

link love

The Myth of Extending the Table by Andy Campbell

The Day I Ate 6 Cheese Buns (And Wanted to Lie About It) by Tina Francis Mutungu

Teach Your Children They Are Whole by Elizabeth Esther for A Deeper Story

Goodbye Internet by Glennon Doyle Melton

Momastory: Tara by Tara Livesay for Momastery

After the Verdict by Kelley Nikondeha

Everyone’s a Biblical Literalist Until You Bring Up Gluttony by Rachel Held Evans

Power and Gender: Among Us It Shall Be Different by Richard Beck

When there are everlasting meals by Ed Cyzewski

Please sign this public statement regarding sexual abuse in the Church from G.R.A.C.E.

Screen Rules by Elizabeth Foss

Grandma’s Experiences Leave A Mark on Your Genes by Dan Hurley for Discover Magazine

30 Photos of the Best Moments of People’s Lives at Mashable

19 Signs You’re Too Old For This Crap at Buzzfeed (some language)

 

my own most-read post

In which faith comes by listening to the right story ::

I don’t want to be swallowed by the darkness. Nor do I want to be blinded by the light. No, I want to be part of a people who see the darkness, know it’s real, and then, then, then, light a candle anyway.

favourite instagram (@sarahbessey)

meditation

 ”I want to think again of dangerous and noble things. I want to be light and frolicsome.

I want to be improbable and beautiful and afraid of nothing as though I had wings.”

- Mary Oliver

and finally

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 Have a lovely weekend!