If I asked you, what's the most unnatural thing you can think of, what would be your answer?
Clones?
Artificial intelligence, robots, androids?
Gay sex?
Would the Incarnation even make your list? Because seriously, what could be more unnatural than divinity assuming human flesh?
The gospel is good news because it is unnatural. It defies the "natural" opposition of Creator and created, of God versus humanity. We are not doomed to forever relate to God as God's opposition. The unnatural act of reconciliation has taken place, initiated by a God who doesn't care about pretentious and ignorant human categories of the natural.
Showing posts with label responses I shouldn't really bother with. Show all posts
Showing posts with label responses I shouldn't really bother with. Show all posts
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
aaaarrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh
There are so many more things I'd rather be blogging about than Sarah Palin. Like, what does it mean that a computer named Watson just beat a couple of human Jeopardy champs, and is this really a harbinger of the "shape of things to come"--good or bad, and all that. And I've refrained from blogging at all about anything of late simply because I am too busy: with the move less than two weeks away, I desperately need to get a reworked draft of chapter 4 complete prior to sealing up the last box of my already mostly-packed-up office.
But Sarah Palin. I'll feud over this tidbit from HuffPo till I get it out of my system, so--commence the bloggy exorcism.
First: I was right. I was so, totally, right ON. Back in 2008, I called it. My ire with SP began with her calculated, manipulative use of that great big lie, the SuperMom. She worked it back then, and she's still working it. All she's done is move on from lipsticked bulldogs to mama grizzlies as her go-to SuperMom animal mascot. But now she's come right out and said it:
So, fine. I'm still pissed about the SuperMom act, which I am still convinced is a damaging cultural image for women in our culture, and to have her flat-out say that being a mom qualifies you to be President makes me want to grow Mama Grizzly claws, put on some lipstick, and do something violent.
And then. When you and I both thought it wasn't possible to feel any more contempt for this egomaniacal caricature of a politician, she goes and does this:
But Sarah Palin. I'll feud over this tidbit from HuffPo till I get it out of my system, so--commence the bloggy exorcism.
First: I was right. I was so, totally, right ON. Back in 2008, I called it. My ire with SP began with her calculated, manipulative use of that great big lie, the SuperMom. She worked it back then, and she's still working it. All she's done is move on from lipsticked bulldogs to mama grizzlies as her go-to SuperMom animal mascot. But now she's come right out and said it:
The former Alaska governor suggested there's "no one" more qualified to handle the demands of the presidency than "a woman, a mom," according to Politico.Don't get me wrong. Being the primary caregiver of a child really is, absolutely, the most time-consuming, emotionally wracking, philosophically challenging and physically exhausting thing I've ever attempted. And I wouldn't hesitate to agree with the somewhat cliched insistence that it's the most important thing I'll ever do--hell, look at the sidebar, I'm doing it again in +/- 63 days!. Being responsible for the holistic formation of another human being? Does it get any scarier or more important than that? But what does any of this have to do with, say, grasping global geopolitical realities? The only potential crossover I see, frankly, between momming and presidenting is diplomatic negotiation with hostile, unwilling and not necessarily fully rational partners.
So, fine. I'm still pissed about the SuperMom act, which I am still convinced is a damaging cultural image for women in our culture, and to have her flat-out say that being a mom qualifies you to be President makes me want to grow Mama Grizzly claws, put on some lipstick, and do something violent.
And then. When you and I both thought it wasn't possible to feel any more contempt for this egomaniacal caricature of a politician, she goes and does this:
...mocked Michelle Obama to make her point. The first lady is encouraging mothers to breast feed their infants as part of her campaign to reduce childhood obesity - an effort that has drawn scorn from some conservatives. "No wonder Michelle Obama is telling everybody you better breast feed your babies," Palin said. "I'm looking and say, 'Yeah, you better because the price of milk is so high right now.'"You know, if you're going to construct your pres campaign platform around the SuperMom image, the least you could f-ing do is actually support real moms.
Saturday, October 09, 2010
humility
Maddeningly, it's the virtue someone like me is presumed not to have--a "lady preacher" and PhD, I couldn't possibly be anything but an arrogant power-seeking female. Maddening, because, ironically, if I have learned anything at all in my pursuit of knowledge of God and God's cosmos, it's that humility is the prerequisite for learning anything at all. Seeking knowledge means admitting you don't know stuff, and that some of the stuff you thought you knew--that you were sure of, sure enough to correct other people on, defend as self-evident, stake your life on--was wrong.
When anyone brought up in the CofC comes to the theological conclusion that the silencing and categorical subordination of women is unbiblical and morally wrong, it is because of humility. Without it, you just don't change your mind about something you were previously sure of.
I would love to see some reciprocal humility from those defending the practice of women's silence and categorical subordination. But what I see, instead, is the opposite--a refusal to acknowledge, even as a remote possibility, that we as a church have historically gotten this wrong. I see a preference for believing evil of others over considering the possibility of repentance.
When anyone brought up in the CofC comes to the theological conclusion that the silencing and categorical subordination of women is unbiblical and morally wrong, it is because of humility. Without it, you just don't change your mind about something you were previously sure of.
I would love to see some reciprocal humility from those defending the practice of women's silence and categorical subordination. But what I see, instead, is the opposite--a refusal to acknowledge, even as a remote possibility, that we as a church have historically gotten this wrong. I see a preference for believing evil of others over considering the possibility of repentance.
Friday, September 24, 2010
hope sinks
Don't get me wrong. Underneath all this grumping I have a boundless optimism that indeed human beings have the capacity to desire good, to change, to shift, to repent, to act. I do, I really do. Otherwise I'd be outta here.
But damn it, I hate these online discussion like pure pizen. They, more than anything else, send me as close to the Pit of Despair as I ever get. I can sit through a service with its all-male revue and not sweat it. I can hear casual benevolent sexism, and sigh and move on. I can hear these stories, note that in the last decade nothing has changed, grumble, and then roll up my sleeves in determination that this must change. But these online things...I should skip them.
It's not even just that they are inevitable stalemates and dead ends, with the same hermeneutical arguments deployed futilely from both sides and (best case) the same polite incomprehension in the end. Or, even, worst case, ending in things like accusing women of "spiritual abortion" because somehow advocating the giftedness of women to do all sorts of things necessarily implies not teaching other women like the Bible says. (??)
The real problem is, the faith I had in the ability of narrative to crack open the possibility of real dialogue, conversations that won't just repeat ad nauseam as they swirl around the drain, is waning. I really thought this was the key, the sort of magic key, that might make our endless discussions productive. I haven't entirely lost this hope, but it's starting to be hard work to keep it afloat. Its initial buoyancy has been shot full of holes.
This is why (excerpted from my downer of a comment on preachermike's post):
The women thing is not about women. It's not. But it should be.
But damn it, I hate these online discussion like pure pizen. They, more than anything else, send me as close to the Pit of Despair as I ever get. I can sit through a service with its all-male revue and not sweat it. I can hear casual benevolent sexism, and sigh and move on. I can hear these stories, note that in the last decade nothing has changed, grumble, and then roll up my sleeves in determination that this must change. But these online things...I should skip them.
It's not even just that they are inevitable stalemates and dead ends, with the same hermeneutical arguments deployed futilely from both sides and (best case) the same polite incomprehension in the end. Or, even, worst case, ending in things like accusing women of "spiritual abortion" because somehow advocating the giftedness of women to do all sorts of things necessarily implies not teaching other women like the Bible says. (??)
The real problem is, the faith I had in the ability of narrative to crack open the possibility of real dialogue, conversations that won't just repeat ad nauseam as they swirl around the drain, is waning. I really thought this was the key, the sort of magic key, that might make our endless discussions productive. I haven't entirely lost this hope, but it's starting to be hard work to keep it afloat. Its initial buoyancy has been shot full of holes.
This is why (excerpted from my downer of a comment on preachermike's post):
the real disconnect is that one side of this discussion perceives the relevance of women’s experiences as part of the dialogue, and one side views all human experience as something basically sinful and untrustworthy, to be submitted to the corrective lens of (received interpretations of) scripture. In short, gals, it doesn’t matter that you experience an internal crisis of life-shattering proportions because you are caught in the middle of hearing God’s call and hearing the church you want to serve deny that this is possible or genuine or righteous. It’s not relevant, because what you need to do is “get your mind right” (in the immortal words of the Captain of Road Prison 36 in Cool Hand Luke). Somehow, it’s become a badge of righteousness to deny one’s own experience, and by extension, the lived experiences of these women.To be "rude" about it, I'm stuck with an image of incredibly sincere, faithful, loving people opening their Bibles, staring fixedly at the text, and sticking their fingers in their ears and shouting "lalalalalalala" to drown out the sound of these women's voices. Because we can't allow ourselves to hear, to understand, to care, to examine what these women are saying. That itself would be to dangerously flirt with unfaithfulness to the Word, a sign that we were wavering in our conviction that the only thing that matters here is our received interpretation of scripture.
The women thing is not about women. It's not. But it should be.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Glenn Beck: about as good a preacher as you'd expect
HuffPo characterizes Beck's rally at the Lincon Memorial as "more like a revival."
Yeah, I get it. There's a lot of artless God-talk in it (so far, I'm only 5 minutes in, and he doesn't seem to be slowing down any. Oh wait, a prayer break. Excellent. There's nothing more inspiring than hearing the name of Jesus invoked in tones of wroth. I can almost feel the spittle, and I'm not even there, and this thing was over hours ago.)
Beck begins with, "America today begins to turn back to God." What is this, performative speech? He says it and it is so? (Like, say, "let there be light?") Or perhaps, let's be generous, it's a declarative, a simple description of what he sees happening. Alrighty then, what's the evidence of such a felicitous occurence?
Beck: "For too long this country has wandered in darkness...[here Beck's sentence seems to wander about in darkness a bit too, thank God for ellipses]...this country has spent far too long worried about scars, and thinking about the scars and concentrating on the scars. Today, we are going to concentrate on the good things in America, the things that we have accomplished, and the things that we can do tomorrow."
Um, okay. Well, first of all let's play along and pretend that direct speech about America and American history and American people and America's future is not, ahem, political, because Beck assures us that this rally is not political. Whatever. But I'll play along, and treat this as a purely theological sentiment.
This theology SUCKS. (Sorry, Mom. It sucks so hard that not only do I have to say it, I have to capitalize it.) This is cheap grace in an American uniform, Glenn. Or how about another phrase, from an article I just read recently, about the reason why American young people are leaving churches in droves: "moralistic therapeutic deism," a "mutant form of Christianity" that "portrays God as a 'divine therapist' whose chief goal is to boost people's self-esteem." We've spent too long thinking about our "scars" and now it's time to stop all that half-hearted repenting and just think about the good stuff, so we can feel good about being Americans?! Turning back to God=being proud of our American selves. WTF? Glenn, I'd've rather heard a Jimmy-Allen-style hellfire-and-brimstone bit. I'm serious.
Worse, here's a quote from an attendee, from the HuffPo article: "This country was created by God, our creator. The problem is, the country is becoming Godless," said Greg Rinehart. "[Beck] said that a lot of people have lost Christ. The country is on the verge of becoming chaotic."
Religious message? Certainly. But apolitical? Hardly. In an atmosphere of hostility toward people of other faiths, by which I mean Muslims, which seems only to be increasing, how is this religious sentiment NOT an incendiary, divisive, politically laden sentiment? People without Christ are making this country chaotic. They must be stopped. Hey, let's go torch the mosque site. That'll show 'em Jesus is the Way. Then we can forget the scars and go on being proud of our badass American selves.
Yeah, I get it. There's a lot of artless God-talk in it (so far, I'm only 5 minutes in, and he doesn't seem to be slowing down any. Oh wait, a prayer break. Excellent. There's nothing more inspiring than hearing the name of Jesus invoked in tones of wroth. I can almost feel the spittle, and I'm not even there, and this thing was over hours ago.)
Beck begins with, "America today begins to turn back to God." What is this, performative speech? He says it and it is so? (Like, say, "let there be light?") Or perhaps, let's be generous, it's a declarative, a simple description of what he sees happening. Alrighty then, what's the evidence of such a felicitous occurence?
Beck: "For too long this country has wandered in darkness...[here Beck's sentence seems to wander about in darkness a bit too, thank God for ellipses]...this country has spent far too long worried about scars, and thinking about the scars and concentrating on the scars. Today, we are going to concentrate on the good things in America, the things that we have accomplished, and the things that we can do tomorrow."
Um, okay. Well, first of all let's play along and pretend that direct speech about America and American history and American people and America's future is not, ahem, political, because Beck assures us that this rally is not political. Whatever. But I'll play along, and treat this as a purely theological sentiment.
This theology SUCKS. (Sorry, Mom. It sucks so hard that not only do I have to say it, I have to capitalize it.) This is cheap grace in an American uniform, Glenn. Or how about another phrase, from an article I just read recently, about the reason why American young people are leaving churches in droves: "moralistic therapeutic deism," a "mutant form of Christianity" that "portrays God as a 'divine therapist' whose chief goal is to boost people's self-esteem." We've spent too long thinking about our "scars" and now it's time to stop all that half-hearted repenting and just think about the good stuff, so we can feel good about being Americans?! Turning back to God=being proud of our American selves. WTF? Glenn, I'd've rather heard a Jimmy-Allen-style hellfire-and-brimstone bit. I'm serious.
Worse, here's a quote from an attendee, from the HuffPo article: "This country was created by God, our creator. The problem is, the country is becoming Godless," said Greg Rinehart. "[Beck] said that a lot of people have lost Christ. The country is on the verge of becoming chaotic."
Religious message? Certainly. But apolitical? Hardly. In an atmosphere of hostility toward people of other faiths, by which I mean Muslims, which seems only to be increasing, how is this religious sentiment NOT an incendiary, divisive, politically laden sentiment? People without Christ are making this country chaotic. They must be stopped. Hey, let's go torch the mosque site. That'll show 'em Jesus is the Way. Then we can forget the scars and go on being proud of our badass American selves.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
irony
I will never understand why people running for public office choose to do so by badmouthing the guvmint. If it's so dang horrible, wouldn't it be more consistent to, say, picket buildings and protest, start eliminating political offices, or, say, work toward making all government work unpaid and pro bono, you know--actually dismantle the institution that is so dang horrible--since by joining, all you're doing is putting your own self on the dole and making the problem one person bigger? But apparently, the only person we can trust not to "vote themselves entitlements from the largesse of the government" is someone seeking public office...
Sharron Angle: "We’re right to that point in the graph where it says, “government dependency.” And we know that once we have a majority that are dependent upon the government, we will lose our freedom; it says we go into bondage. That’s the next stage. Our Founders warned against this. They said don’t… that your liberty is only as secure as the people are. Because once they, um, get the ability to vote themselves entitlements from the largesse of the government, liberty is done; freedom is over with. We were warned. We are there. We’re right on the cusp of it, and you’ve identified those numbers. That’s the war that we’re in. You know, when I talk about a war and a battle and soldiers we have to take up our…our cry for freedom. And we can do it right now at the battle box… I mean at the ballot box. I’m not sure what continues on after 2010. I know people are very frightened about what’s going on in this country. And these programs that you mentioned -- that Obama has going with Reid and Pelosi pushing them forward -- are all entitlement programs built to make government our God. And that’s really what’s happening in this country is a violation of the First Commandment. We have become a country entrenched in idolatry, and that idolatry is the dependency upon our government. We’re supposed to depend upon God for our protection and our provision and for our daily bread, not for our government. And you’ve just identified the real crux of the problem. I’ve also been endorsed by a PAC out of Washington D.C. and the name of that PAC is Government is not God. And I thought that that was so appropriate because that is really what’s happening in our society and we need to take our country back." (source: Las Vegas Sun)
Oh! Irony, no no no, we don't get that here...
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
just for fun: 12 Arguments Evolutionists Should Avoid
12 Arguments Evolutionists Should Avoid
Saw this link on Facebook the other day, and couldn't resist. Neither should you!
I think my favorite item is #2, under which the website notes "Darwin’s own deficit of formal education" i.e., "(he earned a bachelor’s in theology)". I am so pleased to know that within the biblical worldview, a degree in theology = a deficit of education. Awesome.
Saw this link on Facebook the other day, and couldn't resist. Neither should you!
I think my favorite item is #2, under which the website notes "Darwin’s own deficit of formal education" i.e., "(he earned a bachelor’s in theology)". I am so pleased to know that within the biblical worldview, a degree in theology = a deficit of education. Awesome.
Monday, April 26, 2010
dear alien friends, "National" means you too...?
Dear Alien Friends,
Since my "Blog in Space" html code has stopped functioning, I know that I'm technically no longer beaming my bloggy thoughts out to the stars in your general direction. But I assume that when I was, some of you caught on and no doubt have become loyal readers, because after all, rude truth is addictive. And I will further assume that your incomprehensible technically advanced culture will surely provide ways of alternative access to this blog even if I'm no longer blogging-in-space myself.
So I feel the necessity to offer an excuse and apology for my human, Christian brethren (and sistren) who have decided to start making noise about a National Day of Prayer. They're not apparently aware of the millions of God's chilluns that their strangely restrictive invitation is leaving out. I know that may seem strange to you, especially since God has always shown particular concern for the aliens among us, but--well, have you ever heard of the human idiom "blind spot?" There's this excellent parable, too, about specks in your brother's eye and logs in your own...Oh. You might not have "eyes." Never mind.
Anyhow, I hope you'll forgive this cosmic faux pas, and that this doesn't incite any hotheads on your side of the universe to, say, want to destroy the earth or something.
Thanks for sticking around, alien friends! It's nice to know we're all stuck in this same universe together...
Since my "Blog in Space" html code has stopped functioning, I know that I'm technically no longer beaming my bloggy thoughts out to the stars in your general direction. But I assume that when I was, some of you caught on and no doubt have become loyal readers, because after all, rude truth is addictive. And I will further assume that your incomprehensible technically advanced culture will surely provide ways of alternative access to this blog even if I'm no longer blogging-in-space myself.
So I feel the necessity to offer an excuse and apology for my human, Christian brethren (and sistren) who have decided to start making noise about a National Day of Prayer. They're not apparently aware of the millions of God's chilluns that their strangely restrictive invitation is leaving out. I know that may seem strange to you, especially since God has always shown particular concern for the aliens among us, but--well, have you ever heard of the human idiom "blind spot?" There's this excellent parable, too, about specks in your brother's eye and logs in your own...Oh. You might not have "eyes." Never mind.
Anyhow, I hope you'll forgive this cosmic faux pas, and that this doesn't incite any hotheads on your side of the universe to, say, want to destroy the earth or something.
Thanks for sticking around, alien friends! It's nice to know we're all stuck in this same universe together...
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Dear Pat Robertson
To Pat, from Satan (by way of Lily Coyle, Minneapolis Star-Tribune)
To Pat, from his God (as I imagine it)
Dear Pat Robertson,
I recently viewed the correspondence between yourself and Satan from my omniscient perch up in the clouds--though that pesky beard everyone insists I keep got in the way every time I leaned down for a better look--and I have to say, in my omniscience, I'm not surprised. But it is a little disappointing, since after all, you do seem to think I've called upon you to represent Me to all of my people down there on earth.
You've read Job, haven't you, Pat? You remember how at the beginning I make this deal with Satan to test my servant Job to see how faithful he really is to Me? Has it occurred to you that perhaps you don't know all the details of my infinitely wise Plan as I obsessively micromanage everything from parking spots to hurricanes and earthquakes?
I also happened to catch that bit on the Daily Show--love that guy Jon Stewart, after all he's one of My Chosen People, even if he does curse too much on TV--and I have to say, it sounds like he's read my Words a little more thoroughly than you have. May I suggest a review course of My Book focusing specifically on the theme of Divine Compassion? For after all, if I choose to smite folks--for inscrutable reasons that I choose to keep to Myself, and by the way, I'd prefer for you to stop speculating on them in public--I also like to hang around for the aftermath to show My compassion.
Finally, Pat, if you thought what you signed in blood awhile back was a contract with Me, I hate to tell ya, but Satan's been working on that impersonation for all of eternity, and he's really starting to get My booming voice down...he's tricksy like that.
God
Dear Pat Robertson,
I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I'm all over that action.
But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I'm no welcher. The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished.
Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth -- glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake. Haven't you seen "Crossroads"? Or "Damn Yankees"?
If I had a thing going with Haiti, there'd be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox -- that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it -- I'm just saying: Not how I roll.
You're doing great work, Pat, and I don't want to clip your wings -- just, come on, you're making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That's working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.
Best, Satan
To Pat, from his God (as I imagine it)
Dear Pat Robertson,
I recently viewed the correspondence between yourself and Satan from my omniscient perch up in the clouds--though that pesky beard everyone insists I keep got in the way every time I leaned down for a better look--and I have to say, in my omniscience, I'm not surprised. But it is a little disappointing, since after all, you do seem to think I've called upon you to represent Me to all of my people down there on earth.
You've read Job, haven't you, Pat? You remember how at the beginning I make this deal with Satan to test my servant Job to see how faithful he really is to Me? Has it occurred to you that perhaps you don't know all the details of my infinitely wise Plan as I obsessively micromanage everything from parking spots to hurricanes and earthquakes?
I also happened to catch that bit on the Daily Show--love that guy Jon Stewart, after all he's one of My Chosen People, even if he does curse too much on TV--and I have to say, it sounds like he's read my Words a little more thoroughly than you have. May I suggest a review course of My Book focusing specifically on the theme of Divine Compassion? For after all, if I choose to smite folks--for inscrutable reasons that I choose to keep to Myself, and by the way, I'd prefer for you to stop speculating on them in public--I also like to hang around for the aftermath to show My compassion.
Finally, Pat, if you thought what you signed in blood awhile back was a contract with Me, I hate to tell ya, but Satan's been working on that impersonation for all of eternity, and he's really starting to get My booming voice down...he's tricksy like that.
God
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
"it's your money"...(but not mine)
The anti-tax, small government rhetoric, at least to this patriotic American's socialist-leaning ears, has always revolved around this basic message: it's your money, you earned it, you should decide how to spend it, period.
Unless, of course, it's health care legislation, in which case:
1) if you're an "illegal immigrant," you cannot spend your own (very) hard-earned money to buy health insurance.
2) if you're a woman, you cannot spend your own (very) hard-earned money on a procedure that remains (technically) legal.
But if you're one of those privileged few who really have constituted the referent of the phrase "we the people" since the time that phrase was originally coined, then don't worry, no one will tell you how to spend your hard-earned money.
Unless, of course, it's health care legislation, in which case:
1) if you're an "illegal immigrant," you cannot spend your own (very) hard-earned money to buy health insurance.
2) if you're a woman, you cannot spend your own (very) hard-earned money on a procedure that remains (technically) legal.
But if you're one of those privileged few who really have constituted the referent of the phrase "we the people" since the time that phrase was originally coined, then don't worry, no one will tell you how to spend your hard-earned money.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
why don't you just leave
Over at Preacher Mike's, once again, this "rhetorical question" is posed by a commenter.
I'm not going to add this post to the "Women in CofC" series officially, because it's a rant. It's my blog, and I started it specifically so that I could rant on it. Most of the time, I don't. But today, I do. If you like rants, read on. If they bug you, skip it.
I can't even begin to tally up how many times I've fielded this question. From professors. From students. From colleagues. From my therapist. From my best friend. In blog comments. In absentia, even, on discussion forums by people who don't even know me. Why don't you just leave.
It's something I've blogged about before. Why don't I just leave? After all, my husband did. And he's a better person and better Christian for it. Unburdened from the constant stress and frustration of seeing a better future for the church from within a church that doesn't want it, he can now preach and teach with an honesty and integrity that was not even welcomed, let alone understood, before. I see it--I'm sure everyone else who knows him does, too. For Brent, leaving was not optional. It was necessary, and too long delayed by his overdeveloped sense of responsibility.
Why don't you just leave. Well, thanks for the suggestion. Believe me, it's occurred to me. And you make it very tempting. Your invitation to leave is nicely bookended by the proclamation on every sign for the Episcopal Church I've seen: "the Episcopal Church welcomes you." You invite me to get out. This other church--this denomination--invites me in. To stay. Hmmm.
Why don't I just leave.
Why don't we all just leave, we dissidents who just stick around to moan and piss and bitch about the things that we don't like about church? We're a drag. And we're like the little boy who cried wolf, we're constantly droning on about something, aren't we, so we just get tuned out. We're ineffective advocates for the change we purport to desire, we whiners. Our yucky whiny voices turn people off, turn them away from the point we think we're making, not toward it.
Sure. That's who we are, we gender justice dissidents. We pillars of the church who give our time and our money, who lead in the ways we can--whether that's leading communion or teaching kids or making casseroles, who patiently accept the baby steps when they happen, who find their community of support online because they can't find it at their church, who wait for the teachable moments and struggle to endure the long stretches in between, who pray for discernment for that moment when "the well-timed complaint" may be heard and who then speak, not in a whiny yucky voice, but with prophetic conviction, and fear and trembling.
Oh wait, am I whining again? Damn.
Remember, it's October: sarcasm month and clergy appreciation month.
I'm not going to add this post to the "Women in CofC" series officially, because it's a rant. It's my blog, and I started it specifically so that I could rant on it. Most of the time, I don't. But today, I do. If you like rants, read on. If they bug you, skip it.
I can't even begin to tally up how many times I've fielded this question. From professors. From students. From colleagues. From my therapist. From my best friend. In blog comments. In absentia, even, on discussion forums by people who don't even know me. Why don't you just leave.
It's something I've blogged about before. Why don't I just leave? After all, my husband did. And he's a better person and better Christian for it. Unburdened from the constant stress and frustration of seeing a better future for the church from within a church that doesn't want it, he can now preach and teach with an honesty and integrity that was not even welcomed, let alone understood, before. I see it--I'm sure everyone else who knows him does, too. For Brent, leaving was not optional. It was necessary, and too long delayed by his overdeveloped sense of responsibility.
Why don't you just leave. Well, thanks for the suggestion. Believe me, it's occurred to me. And you make it very tempting. Your invitation to leave is nicely bookended by the proclamation on every sign for the Episcopal Church I've seen: "the Episcopal Church welcomes you." You invite me to get out. This other church--this denomination--invites me in. To stay. Hmmm.
Why don't I just leave.
Why don't we all just leave, we dissidents who just stick around to moan and piss and bitch about the things that we don't like about church? We're a drag. And we're like the little boy who cried wolf, we're constantly droning on about something, aren't we, so we just get tuned out. We're ineffective advocates for the change we purport to desire, we whiners. Our yucky whiny voices turn people off, turn them away from the point we think we're making, not toward it.
Sure. That's who we are, we gender justice dissidents. We pillars of the church who give our time and our money, who lead in the ways we can--whether that's leading communion or teaching kids or making casseroles, who patiently accept the baby steps when they happen, who find their community of support online because they can't find it at their church, who wait for the teachable moments and struggle to endure the long stretches in between, who pray for discernment for that moment when "the well-timed complaint" may be heard and who then speak, not in a whiny yucky voice, but with prophetic conviction, and fear and trembling.
Oh wait, am I whining again? Damn.
Remember, it's October: sarcasm month and clergy appreciation month.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
a note from The Wife
hi hon,
don't forget 1) eggs and 2) milk and the dry cleaning.
maybe pick up some italian for dinner tonight?
and a bottle of wine while you're at it (hint)
Oh, and BTW,
STOP USING ME AS YOUR ALL-PURPOSE EXCUSE FOR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR ALL THE TIME!
love you, kiss kiss
The Wife
don't forget 1) eggs and 2) milk and the dry cleaning.
maybe pick up some italian for dinner tonight?
and a bottle of wine while you're at it (hint)
Oh, and BTW,
STOP USING ME AS YOUR ALL-PURPOSE EXCUSE FOR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR ALL THE TIME!
love you, kiss kiss
The Wife
Monday, May 21, 2007
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