Return from Sabbatical:
To those who have not given up on me in my long absence, I send greetings. It has been a few days now since I returned to the East Coast from my sojourn to the Annual Meetings of the American Academy of Religion and the Society of Biblical Literature in San Diego and Thanksgiving with friends in Pasadena. I have almost fully recovered from the jet lag and food coma; just in time for the end of the term! I have two papers, a project, and a final coming up. Next week is the last week of classes and then we have Reading Week. A reading week! When I was working on my B.A. we never had a reading day, let alone a week! But I suppose that since grad school involves more reading there is a need for a greater allowance for make-up/catch up reading time. Fine with me. I could use it. I'm a week behind thanks to the requisite networking, "professional development", book buying orgy, and geek schmooze fest that is the Annual Meeting. Perhaps I should explain further:
The AAR/SBL meeting is the annual professional conference for theologians, biblical scholars, archaeologists, Classicists, and Ancient Near East scholars. It is the largest gathering of academics in those fields (over 10,000) on the planet. We meet to present new research, attend seminars, buy books at huge discounts while the publishers try to convince us to use their books for our classes, and (most importantly) partake of free booze and food at all the various receptions. There are at least three a night.
This year's meeting was a little weird. It was the last year AAR and SBL met together before "the split." We call it The Great Divorce. For reasons not entirely understood by members of either society, the AAR made the decision several years ago to begin meeting separately in 2008. I will refrain from stating my position on this decision or making any other comments on the split as this may compromise my anonymity. My opinions are well known by several prominent members of both societies, and I'm not quite ready to get my ass kicked out of Seminary or commit career suicide just yet.
The AAR will be in Chicago the last week of October and SBL will meet at the usual time (the long weekend before Thanksgiving) in Boston. Some of us are a bit puzzled over AAR's timing, but perhaps they figured it would be a better time than close to the holiday. It's not as if there will be anything significant happening around the end of October/beginning of November next year. No major election, or anything. Although, it is Chicago. Perhaps they are hoping their members will "vote early and vote often"!
This may be my last post for another week or so while I try to get myself caught up and prepared for the end of the semester. Not to mention, get the house ready for the holidays, finish my shopping, and prepare for invading relatives. Until I write again, peace and blessings to you and yours during this glorious season of Advent.
6.11.07
Groovy, Man:
Today in my NT class we discussed the Epistles of James and Jude. Unlike some other letters and the Gospels whose authors are unknown, the letter of James is signed by a James. Which James that is precisely remains in doubt. It may have been written sometime around 80-90 CE, but one of the James possibilities is Jesus' brother, who was (and now I'm quoting our T.A. who was lecturing) "stoned to death in the 60's." Just let that marinate for a moment. Uh huh...got it? Yeah...it took us about 5 minutes to settle down, too. Trying to rephrase it really didn't help, poor guy. We all had images of some hippie Jesus look-alike in Haight-Ashbury sparkin' the doobie to end all doobies. But, hey...what a way to go!
The second half of the class was spent discussing Jude. (I know...it just doesn't get any better than this.) Have you ever actually read Jude? Dark imagery, allusions to esoteric figures from the Hebrew Bible, apocalyptic language, fallen angels and "ungodly intruders". It's fuckin' trippy, dude. All together now: "Hey, Jude...don't make it bad...take a sad sooooong and make it be-eh-eh-ter..."
Today in my NT class we discussed the Epistles of James and Jude. Unlike some other letters and the Gospels whose authors are unknown, the letter of James is signed by a James. Which James that is precisely remains in doubt. It may have been written sometime around 80-90 CE, but one of the James possibilities is Jesus' brother, who was (and now I'm quoting our T.A. who was lecturing) "stoned to death in the 60's." Just let that marinate for a moment. Uh huh...got it? Yeah...it took us about 5 minutes to settle down, too. Trying to rephrase it really didn't help, poor guy. We all had images of some hippie Jesus look-alike in Haight-Ashbury sparkin' the doobie to end all doobies. But, hey...what a way to go!
The second half of the class was spent discussing Jude. (I know...it just doesn't get any better than this.) Have you ever actually read Jude? Dark imagery, allusions to esoteric figures from the Hebrew Bible, apocalyptic language, fallen angels and "ungodly intruders". It's fuckin' trippy, dude. All together now: "Hey, Jude...don't make it bad...take a sad sooooong and make it be-eh-eh-ter..."
2.11.07
Just another day in the Interpretation of the New Testament:
Apparently the Epistles of John are not very popular here. Several students left the class shortly after signing the roll. We started class by comparing passages from the Gospel of John to passages in the First Letter of John to determine same or different authorship. (They were written by different authors, by the way.) My MTS cohorts and I sit and chat amongst ourselves. Bad little MTS students, we did not (nor do we ever, really...) bring our Bibles to class.
Many other students appear to be immersed in other work as well. One of my friends regularly does his Greek homework in the class, and several others have long since abandoned note taking and are now fully engaged in daydreaming. "I'm just here to sign the roll," is a common sentiment. Attendance in this class is absolutely required. One suspects the professor has learned over the years that in order to guarantee regular attendance grades must depend upon it.
On any given day in this class students sit in front of their laptops engaged in earnest typing and stare with profound concentration at their screens. At least, I assume that's what it looks like from the front of the class. From my vantage point, however, a very different story reveals itself. The screens most regularly display Solitaire, Spider Solitaire, Hearts, Minesweeper, or Free Cell. Many write letters, check e-mail, or surf the web.
And today, when we were asked to open our Bibles to the First Letter of John, the guy in front of me pulled out his Biblia Hebraica. Yeah...something tells me he's not participating in this little comparative exercise, either. Welcome to Seminary.
Apparently the Epistles of John are not very popular here. Several students left the class shortly after signing the roll. We started class by comparing passages from the Gospel of John to passages in the First Letter of John to determine same or different authorship. (They were written by different authors, by the way.) My MTS cohorts and I sit and chat amongst ourselves. Bad little MTS students, we did not (nor do we ever, really...) bring our Bibles to class.
Many other students appear to be immersed in other work as well. One of my friends regularly does his Greek homework in the class, and several others have long since abandoned note taking and are now fully engaged in daydreaming. "I'm just here to sign the roll," is a common sentiment. Attendance in this class is absolutely required. One suspects the professor has learned over the years that in order to guarantee regular attendance grades must depend upon it.
On any given day in this class students sit in front of their laptops engaged in earnest typing and stare with profound concentration at their screens. At least, I assume that's what it looks like from the front of the class. From my vantage point, however, a very different story reveals itself. The screens most regularly display Solitaire, Spider Solitaire, Hearts, Minesweeper, or Free Cell. Many write letters, check e-mail, or surf the web.
And today, when we were asked to open our Bibles to the First Letter of John, the guy in front of me pulled out his Biblia Hebraica. Yeah...something tells me he's not participating in this little comparative exercise, either. Welcome to Seminary.
24.10.07
Random Musing
Graffiti for God:
On one of the flip-up desktops in the main lecture hall the black Formica has peeled away to reveal about a six inch triangle of the MDF beneath. Many students have taken this opportunity to doodle. Desktop graffiti was not something I expected to encounter at seminary. Detention Hall, perhaps. But not seminary! Still...the graffiti is distinctly seminarian. There are five crosses of varying shapes and sizes, including the three crosses at Calvary, and the phrase: "J of Naz wuz hur." Yeeeeaaaah...welcome to seminary.
On one of the flip-up desktops in the main lecture hall the black Formica has peeled away to reveal about a six inch triangle of the MDF beneath. Many students have taken this opportunity to doodle. Desktop graffiti was not something I expected to encounter at seminary. Detention Hall, perhaps. But not seminary! Still...the graffiti is distinctly seminarian. There are five crosses of varying shapes and sizes, including the three crosses at Calvary, and the phrase: "J of Naz wuz hur." Yeeeeaaaah...welcome to seminary.
Today was day #2 of the long-anticipated, and dreaded, discussion on the ethics of abortion. Today was worse than Friday, day #1 of the discussion. Last Friday morning I awoke to the following horoscope: "A deep and meaningful conversation will radically change the way you feel today." No kidding. That really was my horoscope. Not a snowball's chance in Hell of that ever applying to our discussion on abortion, but it was still a hilarious cosmic "fuck you."
Friday's discussion was civil, mannered, and well...lukewarm and fairly namby-pamby, actually. I think there was a lot of feeling each other out going on in the room. Several people, including myself, came right out and stated their position on the issue. And I lived to tell the tale. Today we were back in our larger group. Oh yeah, forgot to mention. On Fridays now we are in smaller "break-out" groups for a more intimate and productive discussion. Which means I cannot hide, even during the moments I most wish I could.
So anyway, back to today. We resumed our regular large classroom where the professor lectured on "Christianity and the Morality of Abortion" giving points from both the Pro-Choice and Pro-Life cases. Some students were struggling with the logic of the arguments from both sides. Some of them really really need to get out of their heads once in a while. I'm not saying this should be a debate guided solely by emotion (absolutely not!), but many of the students in the class simply could not get past the systematic arguments, the structure of ethics, involved in this issue. They are the ones who need desperately to let go of their academic training just a tad and accept that some things, no matter how hard people try to make them so, are not and cannot be guided by method. One innocent little, theoretical, methodological, non-emotional question from one student seemed to open up the floodgates and all sorts of people, as if on cue, whipped out their soapboxes and hopped up.
It is at this point in our story that I must introduce two more characters. And I do mean characters. I have no idea what their names are, and have no desire to learn them or become any better acquainted with them. But I call them the Godly Twins. Apologies to Edward Stratemeyer, beloved creator of the Bobbsey Twins (and the Hardy Boys, and Nancy Drew...), but I really don't know what else to call them. The name makes me giggle and smirk in a very naughty way. I take sheer delight in it. They are the very caricatures of the upright, self-righteous, socially conservative, astonishingly naive, prudish and priggish American youth that populate the youth groups and purity pacts of many wealthy, suburban, lily-white, Protestant churches.
He is tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed; and handsome in that white bread all-American, boy next door sort of way. She is just as cute as a button! Short, slim, with shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, freckles! Oh! She's just adorable! The kind you take home to Mom! (can you hear me gagging?) They are always together, and I suspect it is her most ardent desire that they stay together forever. Forever! Oh, to be a minister's wife; and the wife of this particular minister! His idea, on the other hand....well, she's a friend. A good friend. But just a friend.
Anyway, enough obsessing over their personal lives. Time to move on to what affects me directly. They usually sit in front of me. I mean directly in front of me, so that I have to move a few seats over in order to still be able to see the PowerPoint screen. I think they are just oblivious, and not malicious or bratty. Just self-absorbed in their own piety. Which has the potential to carry a corresponding unintended maliciousness, in a way...but I digress. Me, on the other hand, well...I can barely disguise my contempt for them. Today they decided to sit next to me. Apparently, I miscounted and sat one row further forward than I usually do.
So, here we are in the middle of our discussion on the morality of abortion. I know precisely what their views are on the subject. They wear them every day. There seems to be no end to their supply of incredibly vapid t-shirts with (NON)pithy pronouncements of faith and political and moral proclivities. We come to the part of the Pro-Life debate that focuses on personal responsibilities and obligations to the fetus that was created through a voluntary act by two people wholly aware of the consequences of their actions. I could feel her getting all worked up. And then...it happened. She dropped the A-bomb. Abstinence. "Well, that's why we should be promoting abstinence in the schools and churches." To the credit of everyone else, the whole room seemed to lurch forward with the attempts to restrain gasps of shock, bile, and laughter. The professor's eyes seemed suddenly too large for his face, and Jane Godly's creamy white complexion turned three shades of purple. Even Jon Godly looked slightly appalled. She turned to look at me. I like to think she was compelled to do so by the heat of my gaze. I was trying to convey, "please remove your head from your ass so we may all welcome you to Reality." I hope I was successful. I hope our collective efforts were enough to shut her up for at least a week. That's all we need to get us through to the ethics of the just war, and out of this minefield that is the ethics of abortion.
Footnotes
I did it again. I visited Comcast Forum. But I was intrigued by the subject line: "I quit! I don't want to be a mom anymore!" Not the sort of thing one is used to seeing on this particular forum. It was posted by the poor, put-upon mother of a fourteen year old "demon child" who is quickly approaching the end of her rope with this lying, sneaking-around, disrespectful, little brat. She writes: "I thought up a new bumper sticker: ABORTION: Kill 'em while it's legal!" I love it. At least she still has her sense of humor. Sanity waved bye-bye to her long ago. Fourteen years ago, I'm guessing...
Friday's discussion was civil, mannered, and well...lukewarm and fairly namby-pamby, actually. I think there was a lot of feeling each other out going on in the room. Several people, including myself, came right out and stated their position on the issue. And I lived to tell the tale. Today we were back in our larger group. Oh yeah, forgot to mention. On Fridays now we are in smaller "break-out" groups for a more intimate and productive discussion. Which means I cannot hide, even during the moments I most wish I could.
So anyway, back to today. We resumed our regular large classroom where the professor lectured on "Christianity and the Morality of Abortion" giving points from both the Pro-Choice and Pro-Life cases. Some students were struggling with the logic of the arguments from both sides. Some of them really really need to get out of their heads once in a while. I'm not saying this should be a debate guided solely by emotion (absolutely not!), but many of the students in the class simply could not get past the systematic arguments, the structure of ethics, involved in this issue. They are the ones who need desperately to let go of their academic training just a tad and accept that some things, no matter how hard people try to make them so, are not and cannot be guided by method. One innocent little, theoretical, methodological, non-emotional question from one student seemed to open up the floodgates and all sorts of people, as if on cue, whipped out their soapboxes and hopped up.
It is at this point in our story that I must introduce two more characters. And I do mean characters. I have no idea what their names are, and have no desire to learn them or become any better acquainted with them. But I call them the Godly Twins. Apologies to Edward Stratemeyer, beloved creator of the Bobbsey Twins (and the Hardy Boys, and Nancy Drew...), but I really don't know what else to call them. The name makes me giggle and smirk in a very naughty way. I take sheer delight in it. They are the very caricatures of the upright, self-righteous, socially conservative, astonishingly naive, prudish and priggish American youth that populate the youth groups and purity pacts of many wealthy, suburban, lily-white, Protestant churches.
He is tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed; and handsome in that white bread all-American, boy next door sort of way. She is just as cute as a button! Short, slim, with shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, freckles! Oh! She's just adorable! The kind you take home to Mom! (can you hear me gagging?) They are always together, and I suspect it is her most ardent desire that they stay together forever. Forever! Oh, to be a minister's wife; and the wife of this particular minister! His idea, on the other hand....well, she's a friend. A good friend. But just a friend.
Anyway, enough obsessing over their personal lives. Time to move on to what affects me directly. They usually sit in front of me. I mean directly in front of me, so that I have to move a few seats over in order to still be able to see the PowerPoint screen. I think they are just oblivious, and not malicious or bratty. Just self-absorbed in their own piety. Which has the potential to carry a corresponding unintended maliciousness, in a way...but I digress. Me, on the other hand, well...I can barely disguise my contempt for them. Today they decided to sit next to me. Apparently, I miscounted and sat one row further forward than I usually do.
So, here we are in the middle of our discussion on the morality of abortion. I know precisely what their views are on the subject. They wear them every day. There seems to be no end to their supply of incredibly vapid t-shirts with (NON)pithy pronouncements of faith and political and moral proclivities. We come to the part of the Pro-Life debate that focuses on personal responsibilities and obligations to the fetus that was created through a voluntary act by two people wholly aware of the consequences of their actions. I could feel her getting all worked up. And then...it happened. She dropped the A-bomb. Abstinence. "Well, that's why we should be promoting abstinence in the schools and churches." To the credit of everyone else, the whole room seemed to lurch forward with the attempts to restrain gasps of shock, bile, and laughter. The professor's eyes seemed suddenly too large for his face, and Jane Godly's creamy white complexion turned three shades of purple. Even Jon Godly looked slightly appalled. She turned to look at me. I like to think she was compelled to do so by the heat of my gaze. I was trying to convey, "please remove your head from your ass so we may all welcome you to Reality." I hope I was successful. I hope our collective efforts were enough to shut her up for at least a week. That's all we need to get us through to the ethics of the just war, and out of this minefield that is the ethics of abortion.
Footnotes
I did it again. I visited Comcast Forum. But I was intrigued by the subject line: "I quit! I don't want to be a mom anymore!" Not the sort of thing one is used to seeing on this particular forum. It was posted by the poor, put-upon mother of a fourteen year old "demon child" who is quickly approaching the end of her rope with this lying, sneaking-around, disrespectful, little brat. She writes: "I thought up a new bumper sticker: ABORTION: Kill 'em while it's legal!" I love it. At least she still has her sense of humor. Sanity waved bye-bye to her long ago. Fourteen years ago, I'm guessing...
11.10.07
Random Musing
Reading back over my posts I noticed a potentially annoying habit of mine. One for which I will not apologize, but merely paraphrase Louisa May Alcott: "She is overly fond of ellipses and colons, and it has addled her brain." I imagine I'll continue to overuse them. I like them as both literary devices and grammar assistants. And I don't think they get enough love or understanding. So: there...
No news is good news:
I realize it has been over a week since I last posted, and I have been feeling a little guilty about that. Think of it as filial piety. I feel a certain obligation to my (three) regular readers. But honestly, there hasn't been much to report. And in the grand theme of this blog, that may be a good thing...
There has been a certain amount of settling in that has been happening over the past few days. The rhythm of seminary life is taking hold: classes, dining hall, choir practice, service of word and table, meeting friends on the steps of the chapel to discuss, gripe, gossip, and joke about anything and everything.
I've also been quite busy. I regularly have over 100 pages to read a night, and a paper a week. That's a comparatively light course load, but things are starting to pick up. Midterms are right around the corner.
On top of this is the transition in the seasons, and soon the turning back of clocks. I always grow more introspective during this time. Autumn is my favorite season for many reasons, but it also seems to bring out the melancholy in me. Much has been on my mind of late, and none of it bears repeating. Or recording. Hence my electronic silence. Sorry if it sounds cryptic, but perhaps some day soon there will be a deluge of verbiage the likes of which Blogspot has never before witnessed! I hope their server can handle it. Wouldn't want to crash the whole system. Then those bloggers would REALLY have something to bitch about.
As always, my faithful readers, stay tuned...
I realize it has been over a week since I last posted, and I have been feeling a little guilty about that. Think of it as filial piety. I feel a certain obligation to my (three) regular readers. But honestly, there hasn't been much to report. And in the grand theme of this blog, that may be a good thing...
There has been a certain amount of settling in that has been happening over the past few days. The rhythm of seminary life is taking hold: classes, dining hall, choir practice, service of word and table, meeting friends on the steps of the chapel to discuss, gripe, gossip, and joke about anything and everything.
I've also been quite busy. I regularly have over 100 pages to read a night, and a paper a week. That's a comparatively light course load, but things are starting to pick up. Midterms are right around the corner.
On top of this is the transition in the seasons, and soon the turning back of clocks. I always grow more introspective during this time. Autumn is my favorite season for many reasons, but it also seems to bring out the melancholy in me. Much has been on my mind of late, and none of it bears repeating. Or recording. Hence my electronic silence. Sorry if it sounds cryptic, but perhaps some day soon there will be a deluge of verbiage the likes of which Blogspot has never before witnessed! I hope their server can handle it. Wouldn't want to crash the whole system. Then those bloggers would REALLY have something to bitch about.
As always, my faithful readers, stay tuned...
1.10.07
Random Musing
"Here's Your Sign":
On my way home today I passed a car with a home made poster board sign duct-taped to the rear bumper: "Whats (sic) the difference between the ACLU and a terrorist". I don't know, genius, what is the difference?? (I'll use two question marks since you seem to be missing one.) It's your sign, you tell me.
On my way home today I passed a car with a home made poster board sign duct-taped to the rear bumper: "Whats (sic) the difference between the ACLU and a terrorist". I don't know, genius, what is the difference?? (I'll use two question marks since you seem to be missing one.) It's your sign, you tell me.
A Moment of Grace in the Midst of Chaos:
I have two classes that I consider my refuge from the Strange Land that is seminary: MTS Colloquy, and a seminar on Augustine, Descartes, Kant, and Wittgenstein. Today I had my philosophy smorgasbord class. We are discussing Augustine's The Trinity.
Augustine's Christianity is rooted in experiential faith. That is, it is not assent to a doctrine, but more active and contemplative (and these two are not mutually exclusive); faith is understood through the way we think and live in the world. It is an attending to that which is eternal; it is a disposition of the mind. Coming into faith is the transformation of the mind.
Therefore, sin is a necessary state (deprivation) of being. It is the inability to see clearly, and as Freud will later argue, self-deception is essential to our ability to function in this world. There must be a gradual awakening in order to fully recognize, understand, and value the experience. Augustine believes we have this possibility for transformation built in at the beginning of our lives. We are born with faith. It is God's gift of Grace to us, and is ours by virtue of our humanity. But if we were born fully aware of this faith, what would be the purpose of life? Where would we go from there? And, would that faith be truly meaningful without the struggle to understand and attain it?
Coming into faith is a realignment of the way you view the world, others, and your place in it. It is an attending to the world; how we approach it, that matters. Desire can either be governed by worldly or eternal things. Worldly things keep us in sin and alienated from God's grace. They are often selfish, shallow, and gluttonous motives. When we see people or things, or even the attainment of knowledge, as the means to an end, sin (and evil) prevails. Coming into faith is an enlightenment of the mind and a maturation of the soul.
So, what of higher education? The argument could be made that college and especially grad school is evil, because the knowledge we attain there is the means to an end: a career. If we attend to it without love, without good, then it is knowledge for the sake of knowledge. It is empty, shallow, and self-serving.
Here our professor showed a sentimental, romantic side I was surprised to see in him. He acknowledged that much if not most of what we learn, the hard facts and broad theories, will be lost to us over time, perhaps even before we remove our caps and gowns. It is not his hope that we leave here with heads full of information. He does wish for us the burgeoning of a life-long love of learning; that we find a few thinkers/writers who resonate with us and inspire us to continue reading, learning, thinking, sharing, and inspiring our own students or congregants well into the future. Whether it be wisdom or faith, attend to it with love and a respectful desire, and you will experience a fullness and blessedness in your life...Welcome (no, really...welcome) to Seminary.
Footnotes
"Knowledge is important. But much more so is the use toward which it is put. This depends on the heart and mind of the one who uses it."
I have two classes that I consider my refuge from the Strange Land that is seminary: MTS Colloquy, and a seminar on Augustine, Descartes, Kant, and Wittgenstein. Today I had my philosophy smorgasbord class. We are discussing Augustine's The Trinity.
Augustine's Christianity is rooted in experiential faith. That is, it is not assent to a doctrine, but more active and contemplative (and these two are not mutually exclusive); faith is understood through the way we think and live in the world. It is an attending to that which is eternal; it is a disposition of the mind. Coming into faith is the transformation of the mind.
Therefore, sin is a necessary state (deprivation) of being. It is the inability to see clearly, and as Freud will later argue, self-deception is essential to our ability to function in this world. There must be a gradual awakening in order to fully recognize, understand, and value the experience. Augustine believes we have this possibility for transformation built in at the beginning of our lives. We are born with faith. It is God's gift of Grace to us, and is ours by virtue of our humanity. But if we were born fully aware of this faith, what would be the purpose of life? Where would we go from there? And, would that faith be truly meaningful without the struggle to understand and attain it?
Coming into faith is a realignment of the way you view the world, others, and your place in it. It is an attending to the world; how we approach it, that matters. Desire can either be governed by worldly or eternal things. Worldly things keep us in sin and alienated from God's grace. They are often selfish, shallow, and gluttonous motives. When we see people or things, or even the attainment of knowledge, as the means to an end, sin (and evil) prevails. Coming into faith is an enlightenment of the mind and a maturation of the soul.
So, what of higher education? The argument could be made that college and especially grad school is evil, because the knowledge we attain there is the means to an end: a career. If we attend to it without love, without good, then it is knowledge for the sake of knowledge. It is empty, shallow, and self-serving.
Here our professor showed a sentimental, romantic side I was surprised to see in him. He acknowledged that much if not most of what we learn, the hard facts and broad theories, will be lost to us over time, perhaps even before we remove our caps and gowns. It is not his hope that we leave here with heads full of information. He does wish for us the burgeoning of a life-long love of learning; that we find a few thinkers/writers who resonate with us and inspire us to continue reading, learning, thinking, sharing, and inspiring our own students or congregants well into the future. Whether it be wisdom or faith, attend to it with love and a respectful desire, and you will experience a fullness and blessedness in your life...Welcome (no, really...welcome) to Seminary.
Footnotes
"Knowledge is important. But much more so is the use toward which it is put. This depends on the heart and mind of the one who uses it."
-- His Holiness the Dalai Lama
28.9.07
Today's Jesus is "touchless":
I got my car washed on the way home today. I went to the same car wash I always use. I've always known they were a little nutty. And soooo Southern. And very Republican. Fox News is always the channel of choice on the t.v. in the waiting room, and they have a huge poster with the Ten Commandments hanging behind the counter. They also have the contract for the county, including the police department, so there are always a few deputies and detectives swaggering about.
But today, I noticed things with new eyes. My blog eyes. My new to seminary, incredibly hostile toward outward (and offensive) displays of religion eyes. There were three copies of the Holy Bible; none were a version now accepted by even the most conservative theologian or biblical scholar. A book by Billy Graham; forgive me, but I cannot remember the droll, insipid title of the tome. Alongside those were several other religious/spiritual self-help books, a Nora Roberts, and a Danielle Steele. Ugh. I think it's time to find a new car wash. I really don't feel like giving them any more of my money. Who the Hell knows what kind of hate-filled, and-you-call-yourself-a-Christian cause it will be supporting. But not until I qualify for my next free wash. THEN, I'm outta there! Yes, I can be a hypocrite, too!
I got my car washed on the way home today. I went to the same car wash I always use. I've always known they were a little nutty. And soooo Southern. And very Republican. Fox News is always the channel of choice on the t.v. in the waiting room, and they have a huge poster with the Ten Commandments hanging behind the counter. They also have the contract for the county, including the police department, so there are always a few deputies and detectives swaggering about.
But today, I noticed things with new eyes. My blog eyes. My new to seminary, incredibly hostile toward outward (and offensive) displays of religion eyes. There were three copies of the Holy Bible; none were a version now accepted by even the most conservative theologian or biblical scholar. A book by Billy Graham; forgive me, but I cannot remember the droll, insipid title of the tome. Alongside those were several other religious/spiritual self-help books, a Nora Roberts, and a Danielle Steele. Ugh. I think it's time to find a new car wash. I really don't feel like giving them any more of my money. Who the Hell knows what kind of hate-filled, and-you-call-yourself-a-Christian cause it will be supporting. But not until I qualify for my next free wash. THEN, I'm outta there! Yes, I can be a hypocrite, too!
Pointed Rant
Internet Junk Food:
I know I shouldn't do it. It's not good for me, or my blood pressure, or general level of stress. I get burned every time, but I just can't resist. I enter into it hopeful that this will be the day, finally, when someone has something intelligent to write. Or at least bothers with correct spelling, punctuation, and grammar. But, alas...I am disappointed once again. Comcast Forum: the electronic domain for the uneducated moron. That's how they should market it, since it seems to be a place entirely populated with the simple-minded stay-at-home-mom, the unemployed high school drop-out, the uneducated, the narrow-minded, the backwards hick, and mouth-breathing troglodytes of all shapes and sizes. In other words, the people who have nothing better to do with their lives than guzzle Mountain Dew, gobble Doritos, and bitch about the educated, successful, gainfully employed "libruls who think there so much better then tha rest uf us." Yeah...there's a reason they think the way they do. They're right. I mean we're right. Did I write "they?" I meant to write "we." Elitist snob...and proud of it. At least I can spell, and put sentences together to form a paragraph, and complete a thought. I can even tie my shoelaces.
Footnotes
No child held back:
Every year, thousands of American teenagers graduate from high school with less than an eighth grade reading level, limited understanding of basic economics, physics, or biology; couldn't tell you about FDR's New Deal, the dates of the U.S. Civil War, where Hadrian's Wall is, find more than the U.S. on a world map, name a Shakespearean play that hasn't been made into a movie in the past five years, name the last Egyptian pharaoh, explain the significance of the Rosetta Stone, speak intelligently on the works of Mark Twain, or tell you the difference between the Battle of Normandy and the Norman Conquest. If you mentioned Freud, Nietzsche, or Marx they might say, "bless you!" but most certainly not, "gesundheit!" And these are the ones who go to college.
The depth and breadth of cultural illiteracy in this country is an inexcusable failure (one of many) of our educational system. More on this subject later...I'm sure.
I know I shouldn't do it. It's not good for me, or my blood pressure, or general level of stress. I get burned every time, but I just can't resist. I enter into it hopeful that this will be the day, finally, when someone has something intelligent to write. Or at least bothers with correct spelling, punctuation, and grammar. But, alas...I am disappointed once again. Comcast Forum: the electronic domain for the uneducated moron. That's how they should market it, since it seems to be a place entirely populated with the simple-minded stay-at-home-mom, the unemployed high school drop-out, the uneducated, the narrow-minded, the backwards hick, and mouth-breathing troglodytes of all shapes and sizes. In other words, the people who have nothing better to do with their lives than guzzle Mountain Dew, gobble Doritos, and bitch about the educated, successful, gainfully employed "libruls who think there so much better then tha rest uf us." Yeah...there's a reason they think the way they do. They're right. I mean we're right. Did I write "they?" I meant to write "we." Elitist snob...and proud of it. At least I can spell, and put sentences together to form a paragraph, and complete a thought. I can even tie my shoelaces.
Footnotes
No child held back:
Every year, thousands of American teenagers graduate from high school with less than an eighth grade reading level, limited understanding of basic economics, physics, or biology; couldn't tell you about FDR's New Deal, the dates of the U.S. Civil War, where Hadrian's Wall is, find more than the U.S. on a world map, name a Shakespearean play that hasn't been made into a movie in the past five years, name the last Egyptian pharaoh, explain the significance of the Rosetta Stone, speak intelligently on the works of Mark Twain, or tell you the difference between the Battle of Normandy and the Norman Conquest. If you mentioned Freud, Nietzsche, or Marx they might say, "bless you!" but most certainly not, "gesundheit!" And these are the ones who go to college.
The depth and breadth of cultural illiteracy in this country is an inexcusable failure (one of many) of our educational system. More on this subject later...I'm sure.
Random Musing
On my way to campus today I passed a ratty old Oldsmobile. The driver was wearing latex gloves. I thought, "average, run-of-the-mill whack job? Deli worker who takes his work home with him? Or...serial killer who's seen a few too many forensics shows..."
27.9.07
Gold Standard:
Walking into my NT class today I overheard, "have you actually read The Book of Mormon?! It's a mess!" I say, "who cares! It was delivered on plates of pure gold! That's gotta be worth something in some market somewhere!"
Savings v. Investment:
When I returned from the restroom (yes, there is actually one on that floor!) they had moved on to Jehovah's Witnesses. The conversation quickly devolved into who was right and who was wrong, and all sorts of "what if..." scenarios, and who's going to Hell, Purgatory, Paradise; who will be saved and who will not, and how long will you have to wait...Welcome to Seminary.
Footnotes
A wise man (well, a professor anyway...) once said: "Every seminarian thinks s/he can change the world. Every minister knows s/he can't."
Walking into my NT class today I overheard, "have you actually read The Book of Mormon?! It's a mess!" I say, "who cares! It was delivered on plates of pure gold! That's gotta be worth something in some market somewhere!"
Savings v. Investment:
When I returned from the restroom (yes, there is actually one on that floor!) they had moved on to Jehovah's Witnesses. The conversation quickly devolved into who was right and who was wrong, and all sorts of "what if..." scenarios, and who's going to Hell, Purgatory, Paradise; who will be saved and who will not, and how long will you have to wait...Welcome to Seminary.
Footnotes
A wise man (well, a professor anyway...) once said: "Every seminarian thinks s/he can change the world. Every minister knows s/he can't."
Quotables
I couldn't have said it any better myself:
"I often wonder why leading fundamentalists - Billy Graham, for example - seem incapable of realizing how they commit the sin of pride when they refuse to acquire the kind of scientific knowledge necessary for a thorough understanding of certain doctrines of their faith. One can forgive medieval Christians for crowding into churches to pray that the plague be abated, thereby spreading the disease more rapidly, because none of them knew about microbes. One can forgive Luther and Calvin and Wesley for believing that God created the earth and all living things in six literal days, because science did not then have evidence to dispute it. Today, when a self-styled Christian resolutely refuses to inform himself about scientific truths which bear upon his faith, why is it that he cannot see his refusal as an insult to the very God of Truth he fancies he is serving?"
"I often wonder why leading fundamentalists - Billy Graham, for example - seem incapable of realizing how they commit the sin of pride when they refuse to acquire the kind of scientific knowledge necessary for a thorough understanding of certain doctrines of their faith. One can forgive medieval Christians for crowding into churches to pray that the plague be abated, thereby spreading the disease more rapidly, because none of them knew about microbes. One can forgive Luther and Calvin and Wesley for believing that God created the earth and all living things in six literal days, because science did not then have evidence to dispute it. Today, when a self-styled Christian resolutely refuses to inform himself about scientific truths which bear upon his faith, why is it that he cannot see his refusal as an insult to the very God of Truth he fancies he is serving?"
--Martin Gardner, The Flight of Peter Fromm, 1973
26.9.07
"Were you Ethical Today?"...:
...my mother asks over the phone. It is Wednesday, and she knows I have my Christian Ethics class on Wednesdays and Fridays. I told her a couple weeks ago I knew I was in trouble when I was in the bookstore and saw the list for this class. It includes "The Ethics of Abortion: Pro-Life vs. Pro-Choice" edited by Robert M. Baird and Stuart E. Rosenbaum, both of whom are professors of philosophy at Baylor University.
Now as I have written before, this is an exceptionally liberal divinity school. But it is still a divinity school. And the future ministers outnumber the future professors by 5 to 1. I have severe misgivings about this particular aspect of this class. I have very strong opinions on this subject, probably to the point where even the most tolerant or noncommittal Pro-Lifer would call me a baby killer.
It did nothing to quell my anxiety when I happened to mention to a third-year M.Div. student that I was taking this class. She said, "oh....yeah. I took that last fall. He's my least favorite professor here. When I mentioned that I was a practicing Buddhist he called me a heretic in front of the whole class."
I think I'll be sick those days. No, really. Whether I'm in class, or not...I'll probably be sick those days.
Footnotes
Family Values:
Many years ago I was sitting behind a minivan at a stoplight. This vehicle was a motorized cliche for the Southern, religious, socially conservative, "pro-family" set. It sported a fish decal, Pro-Life license tag, parochial school stickers and no less than three "My child is 'student of the month' at whatever-suburban-white-raising-idiotic-bigots-school" of your choice bumper stickers. There were at least five out-of-control children in the back seats. This van was rocking, and not from the activity that begat the five children, if you know what I mean. As we turned the corner, I got a good look at the woman behind the wheel. She looked as though she were about 30 seconds from committing murder/suicide. If ever there was a poster girl for Pro-Choice...I wonder if she is just as "happy" today with the choices she made in her life as she appeared to be then.
...my mother asks over the phone. It is Wednesday, and she knows I have my Christian Ethics class on Wednesdays and Fridays. I told her a couple weeks ago I knew I was in trouble when I was in the bookstore and saw the list for this class. It includes "The Ethics of Abortion: Pro-Life vs. Pro-Choice" edited by Robert M. Baird and Stuart E. Rosenbaum, both of whom are professors of philosophy at Baylor University.
Now as I have written before, this is an exceptionally liberal divinity school. But it is still a divinity school. And the future ministers outnumber the future professors by 5 to 1. I have severe misgivings about this particular aspect of this class. I have very strong opinions on this subject, probably to the point where even the most tolerant or noncommittal Pro-Lifer would call me a baby killer.
It did nothing to quell my anxiety when I happened to mention to a third-year M.Div. student that I was taking this class. She said, "oh....yeah. I took that last fall. He's my least favorite professor here. When I mentioned that I was a practicing Buddhist he called me a heretic in front of the whole class."
I think I'll be sick those days. No, really. Whether I'm in class, or not...I'll probably be sick those days.
Footnotes
Family Values:
Many years ago I was sitting behind a minivan at a stoplight. This vehicle was a motorized cliche for the Southern, religious, socially conservative, "pro-family" set. It sported a fish decal, Pro-Life license tag, parochial school stickers and no less than three "My child is 'student of the month' at whatever-suburban-white-raising-idiotic-bigots-school" of your choice bumper stickers. There were at least five out-of-control children in the back seats. This van was rocking, and not from the activity that begat the five children, if you know what I mean. As we turned the corner, I got a good look at the woman behind the wheel. She looked as though she were about 30 seconds from committing murder/suicide. If ever there was a poster girl for Pro-Choice...I wonder if she is just as "happy" today with the choices she made in her life as she appeared to be then.
Pointed Rant
Road Rage
Time to re-evaluate your definition of wealth:
Today on my way to campus I passed a car with the obnoxious bumper sticker, "Don't let the car fool you, my treasure's in heaven." Now, if this bumper sticker were attached to a 20 year-old Honda Civic with a rusting primer coat and mismatched hood, I'd charitably think, "oh, bless your little self-righteous heart." Buuuut....this bumper sticker was attached to a shiny new black Lincoln Navigator with spinners, low-profile tires, and every other after-factory addition to make it super ghetto-licious. $50,000 without breaking a sweat. I am inclined to think: not only are you a self-righteous prick, but you're a hypocritical asshole as well. Being so endowed ought to make it fairly easy for you to go f*ck yourself.
Footnotes
"And the winner is...":
By far, my favorite bumper sticker of all time has to be, "God was my copilot, but we crashed in the mountains and I had to eat Him." Kind of makes you rethink the Eucharist, doesn't it...
Time to re-evaluate your definition of wealth:
Today on my way to campus I passed a car with the obnoxious bumper sticker, "Don't let the car fool you, my treasure's in heaven." Now, if this bumper sticker were attached to a 20 year-old Honda Civic with a rusting primer coat and mismatched hood, I'd charitably think, "oh, bless your little self-righteous heart." Buuuut....this bumper sticker was attached to a shiny new black Lincoln Navigator with spinners, low-profile tires, and every other after-factory addition to make it super ghetto-licious. $50,000 without breaking a sweat. I am inclined to think: not only are you a self-righteous prick, but you're a hypocritical asshole as well. Being so endowed ought to make it fairly easy for you to go f*ck yourself.
Footnotes
"And the winner is...":
By far, my favorite bumper sticker of all time has to be, "God was my copilot, but we crashed in the mountains and I had to eat Him." Kind of makes you rethink the Eucharist, doesn't it...
First Day:
I arrive for my first class, Interpretation of the New Testament. The classroom is packed. And really, really noisy. Master of Divinity students, I have discovered, are usually quite joyous. And gregarious. Most academics, on the other hand, are quite introverted. And quiet. It is bedlam; people are milling about, discussing their contextual education experiences (missionary, charity, church assignments, etc) praying, singing, laughing...
I find a seat, silence my cell phone, open my notebook, click my pen, and get ready for a stimulating lecture on the historical context for the formation of the New Testament, i.e. Imperial Rome. I can do this in my sleep. It was the primary focus of my undergrad major. The professor begins his PowerPoint: it is a slick intro like one you'd see at the top of the hour on History International, or Discovery Times. Indeed, he has "borrowed" images from several of those documentaries, films such as "Gladiator" and "Alexander", along with text and artifact images from museums around the world. In the background is a hymn being sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. At this time, perhaps it bears mentioning this is not a LDS seminary.
It is quite liberal, with many different "flavors" of Christianity as well as Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Judaism represented in its student body. And atheists, but more on that later. It is specific to a Protestant denomination, but that would be another huge clue, so I won't spill the beans!
Anyway, back to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I imagine the professor chose this recording for no other reason than it is a high-quality recording of a popular and awe-inspiring hymn being sung by one of the finest choirs in the world. To be a member of this choir would ALMOST make it worth converting to the LDS Church. Apparently, several students didn't feel it necessary to wait for an invitation to audition, and joined in singing. With enthusiasm. And three-part harmony. The intro to his PowerPoint ended, and before I had a chance to recover from my first "where the Hell am I?" experience, he opened his mouth to speak. I raised my pen...he said, "let us pray."
Uh...wha-I'm sorry, what? Oh, o.k. I set down my pen, dutifully bowed my head, and took the opportunity to recover from my second "where the Hell am I?" experience. Two in less than five minutes. I'm on a roll. Throughout the remaining hour and twenty minutes there were sporadic mm hmms, amen brothers, and hallelujahs. I wondered if he was lecturing or testifying, preaching or teaching. At seminary, the line is often blurred.
In the subsequent weeks since that first experience, the sermonizing has continued. When he reads Scripture passages, I get the feeling he sometimes forgets he is in front of the classroom, but believes he is behind the pulpit. An enthusiasm overtakes him. It is quite something to watch, but in my mind (and humble opinion) it has no place in the classroom. Aaaahhhh, but this is no ordinary classroom...Welcome to Seminary.
Footnotes
"Excuse me, where is the restroom?":
All women at this school experience a phenomenon I like to call the "sociology of architecture." This being a seminary founded (and its buildings erected) at the beginning of the last century, women's bathrooms were an after-thought.
"Stranger in a Strange Land":
I am the only member of the choir who is not a divinity student. NO, I am not a mole.
I arrive for my first class, Interpretation of the New Testament. The classroom is packed. And really, really noisy. Master of Divinity students, I have discovered, are usually quite joyous. And gregarious. Most academics, on the other hand, are quite introverted. And quiet. It is bedlam; people are milling about, discussing their contextual education experiences (missionary, charity, church assignments, etc) praying, singing, laughing...
I find a seat, silence my cell phone, open my notebook, click my pen, and get ready for a stimulating lecture on the historical context for the formation of the New Testament, i.e. Imperial Rome. I can do this in my sleep. It was the primary focus of my undergrad major. The professor begins his PowerPoint: it is a slick intro like one you'd see at the top of the hour on History International, or Discovery Times. Indeed, he has "borrowed" images from several of those documentaries, films such as "Gladiator" and "Alexander", along with text and artifact images from museums around the world. In the background is a hymn being sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. At this time, perhaps it bears mentioning this is not a LDS seminary.
It is quite liberal, with many different "flavors" of Christianity as well as Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Judaism represented in its student body. And atheists, but more on that later. It is specific to a Protestant denomination, but that would be another huge clue, so I won't spill the beans!
Anyway, back to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I imagine the professor chose this recording for no other reason than it is a high-quality recording of a popular and awe-inspiring hymn being sung by one of the finest choirs in the world. To be a member of this choir would ALMOST make it worth converting to the LDS Church. Apparently, several students didn't feel it necessary to wait for an invitation to audition, and joined in singing. With enthusiasm. And three-part harmony. The intro to his PowerPoint ended, and before I had a chance to recover from my first "where the Hell am I?" experience, he opened his mouth to speak. I raised my pen...he said, "let us pray."
Uh...wha-I'm sorry, what? Oh, o.k. I set down my pen, dutifully bowed my head, and took the opportunity to recover from my second "where the Hell am I?" experience. Two in less than five minutes. I'm on a roll. Throughout the remaining hour and twenty minutes there were sporadic mm hmms, amen brothers, and hallelujahs. I wondered if he was lecturing or testifying, preaching or teaching. At seminary, the line is often blurred.
In the subsequent weeks since that first experience, the sermonizing has continued. When he reads Scripture passages, I get the feeling he sometimes forgets he is in front of the classroom, but believes he is behind the pulpit. An enthusiasm overtakes him. It is quite something to watch, but in my mind (and humble opinion) it has no place in the classroom. Aaaahhhh, but this is no ordinary classroom...Welcome to Seminary.
Footnotes
"Excuse me, where is the restroom?":
All women at this school experience a phenomenon I like to call the "sociology of architecture." This being a seminary founded (and its buildings erected) at the beginning of the last century, women's bathrooms were an after-thought.
"Stranger in a Strange Land":
I am the only member of the choir who is not a divinity student. NO, I am not a mole.
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