New Feminist Christianity

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Book Reviews, Christianity, church, feminism, feminist liberation theology, Women's issues

In the area of theology, the two that most interest me have always been liberation theology and feminist theology. I was so excited when New Feminist Christianity: Many Voices, Many Views, appeared on my new book list.

I am deeply indebted to SkyLight Paths  Publishing, and Jennifer Rataj specifically, for sending me a copy for review.

This is an anthology, compiled by Mary E. Hunt and Diann L. Neu, of women’s voices in many fields of Christian activity. Theology, biblical studies, liturgy, ministry, ethics, you name it, women are there, making their mark from a distinctly faith-based perspective.

Many of the names I am well familiar with. Women like Elizabeth Schüssler Fiorenza and Rosemary Radford Ruether are stellar names in the feminist  Christian world. Others may not be so well-known to the casual reader. And that becomes exciting, since we can learn that women are busy in so many areas we would not have thought.

Each woman was asked to write an essay that generally spoke of their area of interest, what has gone before, what is and what the future appears to be and where it should be heading. If there is one word that describes all, it would be vibrant–the world of women’s issues in Christianity is all that and more.

Of course as one might expect, much of the work these women do is not publicized and that is why it can be quite surprising to find out that feminists are building upon the rich terrain of the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s, redefining, expanding, and moving forth into the second and now third generation of action and thought in this ever burgeoning field.

It is hard to review an anthology. There is so much to cover, and so much that needs be said. A new language is learned along the way. We learn words like kyriarchy, coined by Schüssler-Fiorenza to encompass all the oppressive social structures faced in traditional Roman Catholic and most Protestant faith traditions. It is an interweaving of sexism, racism, classism, heterosexism, colonialism, ageism, and ableism, as well as perhaps more.

We learn that Christian feminists do not simply want to break into what have until now being male bastions of authority and rule, but rather they want to restructure these areas to reflect a community of leadership, authority and gift.

We learn in these pages that women defy category, and insist that there is no “Latina, nor African-American, nor Asian, nor gay” way of looking at things. Trying to place people  into boxes and speak of them and for them in this manner is not helpful but is nothing more than another ism on the spectrum of oppression of all peoples.

Women look in these essays to bringing women’s voice to theological reflection. Much has been done in this area by pioneers of course, and more and more seminaries reflect these new ways of looking, but of course, still more needs be done.

The same can be said of biblical studies where so many have labored so long to tease out the stories of women in the bible, seeking their contributions to preaching and teaching and all the other gifts of the Spirit. Women seek to emulate these oft-times, bare echoes, and through liturgy, give again, true voice to our full heritage as Christians.

For what is announced here in this book, is nothing less than that we are all, male, female, and all the mosaic of human expression in between, enhanced, enriched, and uplifted by recognizing all our gifts in the Spirit.

Women, through dance, theatre, music, and song, through poetry and prose, seek to reclaim and express themselves as true images of God.

This book in a word, is simply delightful. There are hard warnings here in places, and tough analysis, yet the overriding expression is one of hope and excitement. A new generation arises to discover new meanings and new paths to strike forth upon. As is suggested at the end, this will almost certainly turn global and inevitably involved women of non-Christian choice. Buddhists and Hindus, Indigenous women, Sikhs, and Jews will join with their diverse Christian sisters. And we will learn that again, diversity is the norm.

Women bring new ways and new eyes. I can best, I think, show the breadth of the material encompassed herein by a few excerpts. One should also note that the footnotes direct you to endless material for further reading, as does an extensive “further reading” list itself. Whatever your interest, I can assure you, you will find it addressed within these pages. A must read for all women who yearn for a voice in Church.

All I ask of our brethren is that they will take their feet from off our necks and permit us to stand upright on the ground which God has designed for us to occupy. (Sarah Grimke’ 1838) quoted by Rosemary Radford Ruether

It [the basileia of G*d] envisions an alternative world free of hunger, poverty, and domination. This “envisioned” world is already anticipated in the inclusive table-community, in the healing and liberating practices, as well as in the domination-free kinship community of the discipleship of equals that found many followers among the poor, the despised, the ill and possessed, the outcasts and sinners. (E. S. F.)

After decades of trying to find one legal, universally applicable definition of what a man is and what a woman is, the International Olympic Committee has given up on sex/gender analysis. (Virginia Ramey Mollenkott)

Bless Sophia, dream the vision, share the wisdom, dwelling deep within. (Jeanette Stokes)

Well, we might come in a-fightin’ ’cause there’s lots that needs a-rightin’,

we’ve learned a lot from livin’ never taught to us in schools.

If they say come in like a man, well they might not understand:

When we enter into the game, we’re gonna change the god-damned rules! (Marjorie Procter-Smith)

But what is obvious to those with eyes to see is that the entire ministerial and ecclesial structure of Roman Catholicism is exclusively male, rigidly hierarchical, suffused with secrecy and deception, and rewarding duplicity. . . .This is the context in which Catholic women will develop and exercise our ministry in the decades and generations to come. (Mary E. Hunt)

To all those who struggle as “other,” this book gives hope. To all those who are part of the problem, learn of the future. Buy it, read it, and rejoice!

Lessons Learned and Those Before Me

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church, empathy, faith, forgiveness, God, inspiration, sin, solace, tragedy

I fully intended to write about the Kagan nomination today, but the first blog I hit turned that all around. It just struck me as something that people of faith should read, for we all at one time or another, and perhaps periodically, deal with such issues. More a bit later.

I also was bowled over and flabbergasted by the latest idiocy spew from Glenn Beck. I happened to run across it in a hugely funny Lewis Black piece on The Daily Show Wednesday. Go find it and watch it, it was hysterical. Our intrepid nut case actually said, that empathy was dangerous, and in his usual insane style, attached it to Nazi Germany and claimed that “too much empathy leads to bad decisions.”

So, when I saw Eileen’s piece, I felt empathy for the things she said, and well, I thought everyone needs to think about this. What is church, what is faith. How do we weave our spiritual lives within that framework? How do we respond to change? How do encourage our churches to help us live our callings and to help us move along the path?

I have shared with only a couple folks here a horrific tragedy that has befallen my church family. One of our deacons has suffered an accident so breathtakingly heartbreaking, that it is hard to imagine.

His daughter, traveling in Iowa with her three small children was broadsided a bit more than a week ago. Two of the children died, and the mother faces multiple surgeries and a long rehab no doubt. It seems hard to comprehend how a family can face such utter devastation. In but a few seconds, a dozen or more people are directly and horribly affected. Lives are suddenly upended and we turn to God and seek solace and understanding.

I have struggled all week with these events, trying to find a way to do some honor to those whom I never met, but feel somehow connected to. For Mark and his family are part of our church family, and we have been wounded. And in saying so, I am again struck by the fact that if I feel this pain, what on earth must they be enduring?

I recall but a few weeks ago that I was feeling disconnected from church in some ways, mostly from my own failings in ministry. This week, my disconnect is different. I feel useless in this tragedy, unable to see anything that I can do. I pray, I pray for the family, I pray for all those affected. I pray for the organ donees, six of them who received life giving help. How that must feel to them. It doesn’t seem enough though, somehow.

I guess it is normal, feeling this helplessness. But as much as it hurts, I am glad for it. Glad for knowing that I am capable of empathizing with others. Glad that I can bring that pain to myself, and feel that I am part of them, and they of me. Their hurt is mine, and that is what I believe God intends.

I look at myself, and I see a woman who enjoys the rough and tumble of debate and ranting about the inadequacies of my government and of my neighbors in this land. I yell at injustice and I satirize people I don’t agree with, sometimes humorously and sometimes rather harshly. Yet, I am also aware that these people, this larger family encompassing state, country, and world, are my family as well. And I want to ever be able to empathize with all the wrong-thinkers out there, everywhere, even those that do things that make me want to strike out, and often cause me to do that, verbally at least.

Perhaps in the end what I have learned from all this is to set my prayer facing a new direction. And that direction would be to be more peaceful in my mind. More tolerant in my thoughts. Perhaps not rhetoric so much, for I think the fine sharp barb is what sometimes awakens minds. The soft talk only reaches open ears. For the closed mind, something more jarring is required.

Yet, I have been guilty of holding anger in my heart a good deal longer than I should. I have not been as forgiving in my soul. I have perched aloft with my self-righteousness a little too smugly.

And now , O Lord, I bend the knee of my heart

 and make my appeal, sure of your gracious goodness.

I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned,

 and I know my wickedness only too well.

Therefore, I make this prayer to you:

 Forgive me, Lord, forgive me.  (Prayer of Manasseh)

Out of tragedy comes grace, and out of grace new insight and joy. I see the glimmerings before me. I walk toward the light.

Lord, you see your people struggle with the  desire to be all you would have us be, over and against the callings of the world. Help us to ever place our trust in you, confident that if we do, we will find the solace and strength to put others before ourselves, and to remember that each and every one of us is your beloved. Let us speak against injustice and call for equality everywhere, to all peoples, and to respect in our hearts even those whose beliefs and ideas we find repugnant. Most of all, let us be kind, knowing that we are all one family.  Amen

 

The Christian Response

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Amos, Christ, church, Hosea, service, theology, worship

This is a difficult post, because it will be easily misunderstood, and so I’ll do my best to speak carefully. I want to discuss the issue of personal salvation versus following Jesus. The two are not the same.

As some of you know, I’ve been mulling over my own ministry work, trying to determine whether it is right and valid to withdraw somewhat  given my life at this point.  Of concern to me, is that this becomes a “me” thing, and as a Christian, I am called to be “other” oriented.

In my EFM studying, I’ve been focusing on Amos and Hosea, two of the earliest “classical” prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures. Both preached in the Northern Kingdom of Israel in the 8th century BCE. Both condemn the Israelites for their unfaithfulness.

Contrary to popular belief, monotheism did not arise as a finished thing with Abraham. For centuries, and probably into more than one thousand years thereafter, the Hebrews struggled with this concept. They believed that Yahweh was their personal God, but certainly not as the only God. The scriptures reflect this quite often.

Most of the prophets continue to rant about the failure of kings and people to give up their reliance on Baal and other Middle Eastern deities. In addition, during this period, both Amos and Hosea add another charge–the people are practicing their “religion” just fine, but it is not confined to worship of Yahweh, but is self-serving. People come to be seen, to make connections, to offer tithes in return for fertility of field and wife. In other words they come to church with a personal agenda to fulfill. They are here to buy through ritual and alms, the good life.

I had to ask myself, was this still an issue for us today? And the answer is most assuredly yes. Here is where it gets tricky, since I in no way wish to condemn people for having personal reasons for attending church and engaging in missionary work. The work of parishioners is the life blood and backbone of most every church. They could not function without all the offered volunteers quite simply.

But we know that people attend church for reasons of being seen–politicians and professionals are often guilty of this. People attend because they are lonely and church provides a social life for some. It alleviates boredom for others–they have something to do during the week. And of course people attend because they are fearful of the future, and wish to insure a better chance that they will be heaven bound upon death.

These are not bad reasons–indeed if the work of the kingdom is done, it does not matter greatly that personal motives are also in the mix. In fact, these occasions become spiritual to the degree that one thinks of them as such.  I in no way condemn nor chastise anyone who has “ulterior” motives in engaging in church work.

Churches themselves often contribute to this over-emphasis on “me.” Many denominations often focus on personal salvation as their main message. Others seek to be a home away from home to their congregants. They seek to provide every service imaginable, in some measure to draw in new members. Yet, one cannot deny that in doing so they are caring for the flock as directed.

But when do we cross the line from “feeding my sheep” to operating a country club? Surely one could argue that the “prosperity” gospel churches are entirely me focused, even though they often rail at the “secularization” of America and the world. What can be more secular than a me-oriented preaching that touts financial good as God’s desire?

I am blessed with a church whose focus remains constant. We are told that even though we fall, and fail again and again, we are loved and our duty is to love. We are urged to emulate Christ, by taking care of the world, little bit by little bit.  The most beautiful words are in the time of Eucharist, “come you who have much faith and you who have little. Come you who have come here often, and you who have seldom come. Come because the Lord invites you to meet him here. It is not the church who invites, but it is our Lord, who awaits all who wish him.” Or words to that effect.

Easter Sunday, numerous folks are in church whom we normally don’t see. The “program” explained some of the common activities of the service and how to negotiate the Book of Common Prayer and the Hymnal. Included was an explanation of the baskets used for offerings. It was explained that visitors should in no way feel compelled to make any offering. In fact, they were gently advised not to. “Let us serve you today.”

Such is the mission of my Church–to serve.  And with this serving is an unswerving dedication to leading its congregants to service to others. This seems to me to be worship at its best–teaching and by example, showing us how to put on the mind of Christ.

As individual Christians, I think we are called to examine ourselves regularly. How are we measuring up? Are our practices, rituals, and activities directed mostly for future benefit to ourselves? Or, are they aligned mostly to worshiping (showing our love and obedience) through emulation of our Savior?

It seems to me a balance needs be struck. It is proper and good that actions serve both of course, but I think that periodic evaluation is in order. Worship is judged aright when it is tied to service, for the proper way to obey is to do justice and equity within the land. Are we aware of what our practice is? I don’t know. I only ask the questions.

They utter mere words;

With empty oaths they make covenants;   (Hosea 10:4)

Road Signs

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church, faith, God, Jesus, Lent, ministry, spiritual path, spirituality

Psalm 143: 8 says:

Let me hear of your loving-kindness in the morning, for I put my trust in you;

Show me the road that I must walk, for I lift up my soul to you.

I read this one yesterday, and it has stayed with me since. It has brought to my attention a nagging, unvoiced concern that has been fomenting within me for some weeks.

For me, this Lenten season has been bittersweet in many ways. It is not at all what I expected, yet, perhaps it has been exactly what it should be–a time of intense thought and prayer, deep meditation on things I perhaps did not expect.

As the harsh winter bore on, and I was forced to cancel more and more of my church ministry activities, a certain almost imperceptible calm set in–indeed a near happiness. I puzzled over this, as you might expect, and dismissed it as some temporary euphoria of “acceptance” of how things were, rather than what I wished.

Yet, I could not get away from the nagging feeling that I was somehow relieved. I have pushed back those feelings for some weeks now, dismissing them as I said, as mere attempts to live with reality. But there was more to it than that.

I have not the doubt that is normal to believers–the doubts which are both real and necessary about faith itself. In fact, doubting is well established in the bible as normal and part of the journey. I’m not feeling that, at this time and place.

What I am doubting are my choices to involve myself in so many ministries at my church. I’ve not been able to fulfill my responsibilities well during this winter season, but that is but a symptom I suspect. What continues to irritate is the feeling that I have in some real manner welcomed the excuse. Not at all consciously, but subconsciously, and now, it is bubbling upward into the day.

I am constructed thusly it seems. After discussing this whole matter with the Contrarian, I was at pains to agree, that I am likely to rush into things full bore as it were, only to find myself enmeshed in more than I can chew, to mix a metaphor or two. My usual response is to simple “disappear” back into the oblivion of anonymity.

I suggested to him, “Sometimes I think, perhaps I should just go to St. Pius’s and backbench there.” The Contrarian’s eyes grew wide. “You would consider going to the Catholic church again?” “No, not in a formal sense,” I replied, “it just represents the feeling I have that I am not up to all this busyness right now.”

“Perhaps that’s what you should discuss with your priest then, instead of just walking away.” And in fact, that is probably as close to being correct as I can imagine. It is the right thing to do. “Look,” he pondered, “you are just in a place in your journey where you aren’t able to give, just receive. There is nothing wrong with that is there?” “No,” I reflectively answered.

Was this my answer? The one I have been praying for most seriously? Gone from a general unease to a focusing in on the issue of which path–was Christ speaking to me through my beloved? I don’t know the answer yet, and am reticent to accept the first answer that seems to my liking.

What I discover, is that the journey is fraught with obstacles. Some of them are obvious–the dark night of the soul, that coldness that comes when we question whether there is a God and if he/she is listening. There is the obstacle of time and place, and the fact that sometimes faith and church don’t coincide, nor does  a faith tradition meet the needs of the heart and soul. 

Now I discover more obstacles. Is my crisis one of pure laziness, selfish desire to not be burdened with a calendar of responsibilities? Or is it simply that God and I need to walk alone at this time, deepening our bond? I met a nun once, and worked with her for a couple of weeks in New Mexico.  A harder working woman I never met. Yet I wondered when she got the time to spend with God, quietly and not while exhausted.

No doubt the same could be said of Mother Theresa and countless others who devote every waking moment to the service of those in need. I am so woefully inadequate to all this. My rather paltry efforts so far are laughable by comparison, yet I am feeling pinched in my spiritual life.

But perhaps I’m supposed to be. Perhaps comfort is a sign that I am taking an easy way. Jesus most certainly did not take an easy way. I can’t imagine him getting up and saying, “heck boys, lets go swimming today and play some soccer, I’m not into all this healing and preaching today.”

Talk about putting on the mind of Christ!  Like John, I am unfit to tie his sandals. And so, I ponder further. Think of me when you pray today, for I am sorely in need of guidance. Saying it straight out seems a start, but truly I lament:  Show me the road that I must walk.

Where to Draw the Line

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child abuse, children, church, faith, parenting, religion

Last week, I called Atheist Revolution to task for suggesting that fundamentalism was somehow more rational and cohesive a theology than more progressive mainstream religious thinking.

I suggested that the author meant to “get the goat” of believers rather than honestly suggest such a ludicrous theory, or that he was utterly uninformed. As anyone knows who is not a fundamentalist of any religion, such mindsets and worldviews are anything BUT rational and fact based.

Another post by the same author has yet again rung so untrue that it got me to thinking about the subject in general. Basically, he suggests that parental insistence that children attend religious services against their will is tantamount to child abuse. And he points to his own experience as evidence. Again, I submit something else is at work.

While I’ve suggested that forcing fundamentalism upon a child can be child abuse (a significant portion of said indoctrinees become atheists when they enter the real world, and or are significantly deficient in science learning, putting them far behind in college), it is hard for me to realize how simply imposing a requirement of church attendance without more, can damage a child.

Here is my reasoning. Let’s say that parents A require child B to attend Sunday services. Now, as the child ages, certainly most rebel against this. But the rebellion has little to do with a professed adherence to atheism. The rebellion is the general rebellion common to all kids who are seeking independence. The child doesn’t rebel against God so much as he’d rather be with friends playing basketball. His priorities are different!

For those small numbers of kids who have at an early age developed a rational intellectual argument against the concept of a deity, I don’t think harm is the result. Rather, this rational child sees the whole process as primitive and outmoded. He argues with parents and others who will listen that there are better  and more rational answers to unknowables than a God. He is bemused certainly by the religiosity of others, and perhaps angry at his time being usurped in this manner, but a couple of hours a week can be “lived” with.

 I cannot for the life of me, find where some deep psychological harm would emanate from. Atheism prides itself on being coldly rational, an intellectual tour de force if you will. Religion to them, is cultish and ritual mumbo jumbo, hardly the stuff to torture the mind of a rational atheist.

So, I submit that the writer has other issues, perhaps ones that he has misunderstood as resulting from forced church attendance. (No doubt there are cultic forms of religion that practice harmful rituals, such as sacrifice of animals and such, that can be harmful, but these I submit are so minor as to be outside the norm of our discussion.)

Still, an important issue is raised. If it is right and proper for parents to require church attendance of their children, how much and for how long comes to mind. I have an opinion on this, but it is one born of what common sense tells me. It is the result of my life experiences either witnessed or read about. So, I’m interested in what tack others feel is appropriate or not.

My thinking is that family church attendance serves other purposes than the instillation of religious belief. Feelings of security, reliability, love, responsibility and such are served by making this a family affair. Modeling of intact family units, sharing, cooperation, and other attributes are offered by the family itself and by other congregationalists.

Up to a certain age, children have not the ability to rationally decide for themselves what is valuable and what not. But, age does play a significant factor. Age, and maturity. I would tend to place the cut off at 14. Here, children have had significant experiences of their own, they know what they believe or don’t (at least for the moment), and they have had a time to sift through the information offered in church settings.

If a child, at 14 (presumably an age when parents feel comfortable leaving a youngster alone for a few hours at home), decides that church is not for him, then I think it appropriate to allow him/her to stop. The inculcation of other values can still be imposed through family “time” on Sunday for an appropriate number of hours. After discussion, there may be “independent” study requirements to learn of other faith traditions or none to help the child sort out their true feelings and beliefs.

I would agree that forcing a child to not only attend services past a certain age, but also to participate in numerous other church related groups and practices is not appropriate and counter productive. This I do  think turns off kids, and creates either out right atheists or at least secular Christians (those I define as professing a belief in God, but a distrust of organized religion).

Anyway, that’s my take on the subject. It’s a thorny one, no doubt, and people on all sides tend to be assertive of their belief and protective of their position.  Can we talk to each other rather than across each other? What say you?

A Convenient Truth

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church, empathy, faith, God, joy, paradox, worship

A number of things have been rattling round the old noggin the past day or so, and let me try to set them down in some coherent form. Try is the operative word here.

I’m reminded that coherence depends on the audience. To an atheist, much of what I might be saying would be not so clear. As I’ve said in the past, proselytizing has a major draw back. There is no “logical” fool proof “proof” of that which is offered as truth, one sees the truth because one believes. If one doesn’t, other explanations make as much sense.

All I can say, frankly, is that I’ll do the best I can to ‘splain what I mean, but if it’s not convincing, don’t blame me. Faith is not subject to cold hard facts as they say, which prompts the average atheist to exclaim in the best church lady voice, “How con VEEEE nient for you.”

 It’s a well known fact that new converts are exuberant and suffer from saint complexes. They are “excessively” in love with their new faith and with their new God. This generally wears off in time, and church leaders are well versed in slowing down such people before they get into ministry and church activities way over their heads, only to find that there is still “life” out there to be lived.

I suppose the same is true when one joins another faith tradition. As  a new Roman Catholic, I suffered or enjoyed, your choice, the traditional, more Catholic than the Pope, attitude. In time, it subsided. Mass became the norm it is for most, an obligation, which one can take seriously or ignore as one is wont to do.

I’ve been an Episcopalian for nearly a year and a half, and frankly, my holier than thou period seems to be getting more so than less. I’m inclined in some manner, to believe it has a lot to do with my particular church. It is something special, and I cannot explain it adequately. All I know is that forces have come to play in one place and time to bring together an extraordinary array of people who seem in some amazing way to uplift and uphold each other in ways that infuse us all with deeply felt awe and awareness that we are a very special congregation.

With each passing week, I find myself more drawn to the liturgy of the day, more reverent in my prayer and worship, more deeply aware of the holiness of this place, these people, and my God. He fairly permeates this building, oozing love and blessing from every inch of it.

I fairly don’t know what to think of all this. It has not happened to me before in so strong a fashion.

Concomitant with this, is of course, a growing knowledge and friendship with so many individuals. With that comes an awareness of the ups and downs of others lives. I find myself learning about illnesses and losses, setbacks and triumphs of various members. I begin to know who are those who are suffering, those who are in delicate circumstances, carefully navigating new jobs, careers, life changes. I share their joys but also their sorrows.

And, the paradox of it all, is that, even in the midst of all this empathy, I feel an increasing joy. This causes a great deal of consternation to me, and I’m not sure how to feel. I mean, when a friend is suffering, how can I feel happy? How can I feel joy when I carry the burden of sadness that some of my friends are going through great difficulties?

What happens, is that I feel the shame of my own meagre complaints. I complain about wind and snow and frigid temperatures. I complain about fairly minor digestive issues. I complain about lack of funds to buy laptops and high speed connections. They are nothing in comparison to what others are living with. They would cry with joy to have such “complaints.”

So I feel this joy, that my troubles are minor in comparison, and the shame of feeling the joy.

It’s all jumbled up in some rat’s nest of complicated thought that I cannot unravel. I can only try to explain it to myself, and to you. There are no right words to describe it. Poets and prose writers do that for us. I scribble my thoughts and hope in some way that I touch a cord with others, that I explain in my faulty way what they too feel. For I never think my thinking is unique in a general sense.

As people of faith, we attempt to describe, explain, and often convince others that what we believe is real and important. We mostly fail, as it relates to the unbeliever, and I don’t argue that it should succeed. Faith comes to one who desires faith I think. It cannot be logically transferred to the mind of the unbeliever and convince them.

The bible is no more than these attempts over and over again. There is seldom a point in the bible where plain facts are stated. It is, in parts, and in total, writings that have a point of view. The stories, whether actual events, or offered to express over arching theological principles, always are persuasive. They are not neutral.

This essay too, is not logical, not neutral. It will hopefully be understood by the believer, who too has traversed this paradox of sympathy, empathy and joy, all at once. I continue to ponder. I listen carefully for God’s whispered encouragement. I look for the signs that direct me to a better understanding. Until then, I sit with my convenient truth,  on the edge of the razor, living the paradox.

Meeting Myself in Passing

Tags

bible, Books, church, education, God, life in the meadow, ministry

 

I am getting scatterbrained, and am engaged in various stop gap measures to fix it. I’ve been buying three-ring binders by the gross and a new hole punch. I’ve been punching and binding papers at lightning speed rates, and trying to feel more in control. I’m not sure if it’s working.

I’m not complaining, no not that. I am invigorated and actually feel about as happy as most anyone can expect to be at nearly 60. I’m busy, and having to turn down things lest I get just too stretched both for time and my pocketbook.

I recall once upon a time, in another land, in another time, in an age of innocence, and when life seem stretched out before me like one unending horizon that could never be reached. I remember a class I took in college. A philosophy class. One I was gifted to be taking at all. I had been at MSU a scant few weeks, when I received a letter from a group called Phi Kappa Phi. No, not a sorority, but a scholarly group based solely on grade point or something to that effect. I was invited to join.

Now, I probably wouldn’t had it not been for the fact that the perks were exceptional. I could avoid all those “must take before graduation” classes, such as a language, and so forth. I could drop a minor, and I had only to complete 45 hours in my major. Moreover, I got preference for classes immediately after graduate students. All good reasons to join, which I did, and immediately gave my regrets to the nice French professor.

Anyway, I had extra time to take classes I purely was interested in, so philosophy was one. I will never forget, (funny how weird stuff like this sticks with one forever), a question on a test. I’m not sure, but it may have been the only question. “If it were offered to allow X to read for the rest of his/her life, and be supported financially (paid) for doing so, with no contractual obligation to do anything with what might be learned, would you support paying the person just to learn?”

Quite a question. Do we support learning for its own sake, with no expectation of recompense? Does society have an interest in furthering personal enlightenment? I’m not sure whether there was a right or wrong answer. There was a philosophical one to be sure, based assuredly on analysis and logical deductions. I don’t recall what I wrote, nor the grade I got, though it was surely not bad.

I have often since dreamed of such an opportunity. I would have been grand at it.Just call me “professional student.”  I purely love books and want to know what they contain. My EFM (education for ministry) program is kind of like that. It is a personal exercise in learning about God and faith, a compilation by my greater Episcopal church, of some of the best religious and theological minds of our time and past. It is directed but still a very personal endeavor.

It is exactly how much you want it to be. There are tons of resources to extend your learning, though they are not required. I am drawn to read as many and as much as I can. I want to know. It has driven me from the start of my “knowing” spiritual journey. That as opposed to my unknowing one, the one we are all on, like it or not, know it or not.

It’s taking up vastly more time than I had figured. And I just keep finding more time, because I love the process. I love how the bible and God become larger, and more special, and more beautiful and fill me with wonder and awe and puzzlement all at the same time. It grows, it changes, it matures. How sad the fundamentalist truly is with their written in stone beliefs. My God is alive, growing, interacting, funny, quizzical, grieved, joyful, patient, comforting, sometimes all at once. She changes and shocks me again and again with new revelations beyond my wildest dreams.

To make matters more complicated, I’m receiving other books now, from publishers I’ve never dealt with. “Read this and let us know your thoughts.” Flattering, but cutting into the resource of time. How can I say no? This is what I have worked for. And I truly love it.

No matter that my own pile of books I “must read” gets higher. My blog list gets longer and I find less time to read them. This is painful. Facebook has been a nice way to connect with blogging friends and catch some posts. I can comment quickly. I can be supportive and yet not lose my focus.

In the meantime, I clean house, and fix meals, and try to be a good wife. I try to be careful not to shirk any of those. Mostly the last, since it is my foundation. I do have the best husband in the world. No doubt a few women will disagree, for obvious reasons. We are a sisterhood of those who have indeed found soul mates and have the freedom to explore and grow and change, all with the blessings of husbands who are secure in themselves.

So, all that being said, if you would like to contribute to the “let Sherry learn and read” fund, just send me a note via e-mail and I’ll get your my land address. LOL..Okay that was a joke, but just barely!