Sermon of the Week

Well, this church sure is on a roll. This is the same one that brought us A.S.A.P. last week:

"Our Church is Prayer Conditioned."

I'm so tempted to go just to get a look at this guy, and hear what he has to say. And it is a guy. The church is Southern Baptist. Women aren't allowed to have thoughts or opinions, let alone lead a flock.

Footnote:
It wasn't always that way. In fact, the SBC amended its bylaws to exclude women from ordination in just the last couple of years. But nearly a hundred years ago a great aunt of mine was a Southern Baptist preacher. This church, like religion in general the world over, seems to be regressing. This is a common phenomenon in times of uncertainty, and that is a shame. Because a woman's voice might be just the thing we need...

Quotables

Shades of Liberation Theology nearly a century before Bonhoeffer

Having thus acknowledged what I owe those who have aided and approved me, I turn to another class, a small one, so far as I know, but not, therefore, to be overlooked. I mean the timorous or carping few who doubt the tendency of such books as "Jane Eyre": in whose eyes whatever is unusual is wrong; whose ears detect in each protest against bigotry - that parent of crime - an insult to piety, that regent of God on earth. I would suggest to such doubters certain obvious distinctions; I would remind them of certain simple truths.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.

These things and deeds are diametrically opposed: they are as distinct as is vice from virtue. Men too often confound them; they should not be confounded: appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is - I repeat - a difference; and it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.

The world may not like to see these ideas dissevered, for it has been accustomed to blend them; finding it convenient to make external show pass for sterling worth - to let white-washed walls vouch for clean shrines. It may hate him who dares to scrutinise and expose - to rase the gilding, and show base metal under it - to penetrate the sepulchre, and reveal charnel relics: but, hate as it will, is indebted to him.

Ahab did not like Micaiah, because he never prophesied good concerning him, but evil: probably he liked the sycophant son of Chenaanah better; yet might Ahab have escaped a bloody death, had he but stopped his ears to flattery, and opened them to faithful counsel.

--Charlotte Bronte, excerpt from "Author's Preface" to the second edition of Jane Eyre, 21 December 1847

Sermon of the Week

"Heaven, don't miss it for the world!"

O.K. Here's what I know. I know the world exists and that I am a part of it. Heaven...not a freakin' clue and I have some serious doubts. So I will continue to live my life in this world as I see fit and not deny myself any pleasures regarded as "sinful" on the off-chance there will be a great reward AFTER I'M DEAD.


And as if that weren't bad enough, this one appeared just a few miles down the road:

"A.S.A.P. - Always Say A Prayer"

No comment.

I'm baaaaack!!

Wow, I've been gone a long time. Summer break has been lovely. I've been keeping myself busy with the usual summer vacation stuff: family trips, minor home repairs, catching up on non-mandatory reading. But I realized I never posted an end-of-semester message. Sorry about that. I meant to, but the days just slipped by. I have less than a month to go before classes start again, and I'll be back in full force, I'm sure, with lots of hilarity, insanity, and the further exploits of Jane and John Godley. I hope they haven't graduated. I think they were second year MDivs which means they'll still have one more year. Which also means I'll be graduating with them, and I'll get a good look at their families. Yes, of course I will share that with you! If they have graduated, this blog will truly suck. I'll need to find some replacements quickly. Somehow I don't think that will be a problem, though...

Last week, I even endured an hour of a Presbyterian minister yelling at me (well, not just me) for the sake of my nephew's baptism. Poor boy. He did well, though. He has this downright mean look he can pull, and he loves to do it, but he did fine with the water. I was amazed. I thought he would scream in a Linda Blair-like fit as if it were burning him or something. But he laughed. And then he wanted to splash in the baptismal font. Go figure. What was really funny was watching my in-laws (who are Catholic) endure the Presbyterian service. Especially my husband's grandmother, who was raised in Poland long before Vatican II and probably still believes, as she was taught as a little girl, that even entering a Protestant church guarantees a direct flight to Hell. I was sitting in the pew behind her and could feel the tension radiating off her. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.

Well, I guess that's all the news that's fit to print for now. I'm just gearing up for the semester, and getting ready for my book-buying spree. I don't even have one inch to spare on any bookshelf in this house. And I have no room in this house for another bookcase. I need to do some reshuffling. I think some fiction and other non-essentials will have to be exiled to the storage unit for the duration. Yes, it's climate controlled. I will not commit bibliocide. I promise. I think I'll go back-to-school shopping today. I need some new clothes. All my stuff from last year is soooo....well, last year. I don't want to look like a dork. All the other girls will laugh at me! Ugh...there is not enough money in the world to convince me to go back to a time and a place (like high school) where any of that shit would matter. I'm really liking my 30's. It's a good time to be a woman. Definitely.

Sermon of the Week

Another one courtesy of my mother:

"God says, 'get an Afterlife.'"

Footnote:

This could be a really fun multi-state collection, but that would mean enabling the e-mail feature on this blog, and frankly I just don't want to hear from all the whack jobs out there who will feel compelled to inform me I'm going to Hell. This is my refuge. This is where I get to express my opinions without having to endure the inane rhetoric of the "overly-religious." Not fair, I know. But to quote the mother of a childhood friend: "Fair is a four letter word found only in the dictionary. It does not apply to life." I didn't like that statement when I was a kid. I love it now.

So there.

Sermon of the Week

"Have you thanked God today?"

No comment.


And, compliments of my mother:
"Even Jesus had fish stories."

Yes...she lives on the Gulf Coast of Florida...

Kids in the Hall

"Have you finished your paper yet?"
"No, but I'm praying."

Maybe if you had done more writing and less praying you would have finished your paper by now. Just a thought.

Sermon of the Week

"Jesus is the Answer."

O.K....what's the question? I guess you have to go to find out. No thanks. I'll pass. I like it when some things remain a mystery.

Pointed Rant

Second Class Citizens:

I registered for fall classes last week. I managed to get a couple of my first choices, but then had to settle for a couple of my second choices. It would be nice if the MTS students who only have two more semesters could have priority registration, but no. The earliest times are reserved for the MDiv students who's program is three years, not two as ours is. And judging by what I've witnessed so far, they could use the extra year...or four.

This is not just me. Apparently this is a perennial gripe of MTS students here. And lately there has been a rumor swirling about that they are considering discontinuing the MTS program altogether. Well, sometimes it seems like they are doing everything they can to inconvenience, irritate, and drive us away. We are the minority by a wide margin. But still...we pay the same tuition and we are here because we want to be here, which is more than I can say for many of the MDiv students who seem to resent having to be here and endure all the unorthodox hoopla in order to become Methodist ministers. Well, if it's just so damned awful, find another denomination. There are plenty of churches around where the pastor hasn't even graduated from high school.

WOW...I've been gone a long time. It's not that nothing has happened; actually a lot has happened, and I haven't had the time (or energy) to come here and vent. Well, loyal and patient readers, the time has come to vent. Close your doors, sit down and clear your schedules. Quoting Bette Davis, "fasten your seat belts, it's gonna be a bumpy night"...

A couple of weeks ago we watched a film on Islam. Yes...this is yet another story about my favorite whipping girl and boy, Jane and John Godley. They sat behind me, as they usually do. So I was subjected to every sigh, grunt, and expression of disapproval. They resented having to watch the film, and made no effort to conceal that fact. Most of the griping came during the segment on the spread of Islam and its conquest. Yes, the sword point conversions that are an unfortunate part of Islam's past. They seemed to be particularly revolted by this. I have only one thing to say regarding such misplaced self-righteousness: Remember the bloody history of your own church. Before casting aspersions on others, look to your own house. And stop kicking my chair.

Footnote:
If I had a dime for every time I've said this, I'd be writing this blog from my Tuscan villa: "Muslim Terrorist" is an oxymoron. Terrorists are not Muslims and Muslims are not terrorists. It doesn't matter how many times they say they do this in the name of God. It doesn't make it true, and God would never own their actions. I simply cannot tolerate the continued use of the term "Muslim Terrorist" by the sensation-seeking media and the fear-mongering politicians. It is racist, bigoted, and patently false. Food for thought: when was the last time you heard an IRA bomber referred to as a Catholic terrorist?

Random Musing

"The Weighting is the Hardest Part":

To all the women out there who constantly gripe that it is so much easier for men to lose weight than it is for women, and I'm one of them, I have a sweet little bit of news to share with you. On our vacation to the Florida Keys this past week my husband gained ten pounds. I lost six. There is still hope, and justice still exists in this world.

Sermon of the Week

Yet another new feature I have decided to add. I'm sure you have all at one time or another received a joke e-mail with photos taken of various (usually Southern) church signboards with the title of the upcoming sermon, a quote from Scripture, or some other church community announcement that was funny (either intentionally or unintentionally), scary, intended to be clever, or just plain odd. I have decided to share with you the joy and the pain I experience as I pass by the numerous (and then some...) churches on my daily commute to Seminary. I know...I'm such a giving person, aren't I?

"Forbidden Fruit Makes Many Jams"

I like it. It's clever. Judging from the rather large people I see entering and exiting this church on any given Sunday, they firmly believe that all fruit is forbidden, and that jam goes best on fried chicken and cheese fries; not to mention those moist, soft, buttery biscuits....damn, I'm getting hungry...

Random Musing

In my World Religions class we are trying to coordinate a time (on a Saturday) to go visit a local Buddhist monastery. Next week is Spring Break, and half the class is going out of town, and will be leaving Friday. The following Saturday doesn't work because most of us will still be out of town, returning the next day. "O.K., so how about the following Saturday?" the professor inquires. Oh, heavens no! We can't do that! It's the Saturday before Easter!...uh...so what? Is God going to strike you down if he sees you entering a Buddhist Monastery during his Holy Week?

What the Buddha Taught:

First, I must indulge in a pointed rant regarding the pronunciation of Buddha, Buddhist, Buddhism. It is one of my pet peeves, and I liken it to fingernails on a chalkboard. It is not pronounced BOO-duh. Or BOO-dizem, or BOO-dist; like they are meditating on the impermanence of booty or something. (I wish I had an impermanent booty...) It is Bu as in good, not Bu as in food. And while we're on the subject, he is not the "Dolly" Lama. He is the "Deh-lie" Lama. Thank you. I just had to get that off my chest. Or booty. Or, whatever...

You know that expression, "leave your problems at the door?" I wish we had a similar one for my World Religions class. Or all of Seminary, actually: leave your Christianity at the door. Today was the third day of our discussion of Buddhism. We started out gently with the biography of Prince Siddhartha/Gautama Buddha and then some introductory material; sort of the broad strokes of Buddhism. For today, we jumped into Theravadin Buddhism feet first, with one of the most difficult and profound writings on Buddhist thought; the Buddhadhamma: Natural Laws and Values for Life (Buddhadhamma refers to the corpus of the Buddha's teachings) by Thailand's pre-eminent Buddhist monk and scholar Phra Prayudh Payutto.

I love this professor, by the way. She is gentle and sincere and very enthusiastic about the material; especially Hinduism. She wrote her dissertation on a comparison between Ramanuja (a Classical Hindu philosopher) and St. John of the Cross. But she is also very confident in her teaching abilities (she lectures without notes, and writes Sanskrit without cheat sheets) and she knows her stuff. No question. Good thing, too. She was taking fire from many sides today. These sweet, little, American, not-terribly-worldly MDiv students are having a very difficult time wrapping their heads around these very foreign concepts. I think that if they ever managed to retain and understand some of this their heads might actually explode.

I had fun today. Real fun; like I haven't in a long time. I felt alive; every nerve was tingling. You couldn't shut me up. And the professor was thoroughly enjoying this, too. Not that I was coming to her defense; she certainly didn't need it. I prefer to think of it as more of a tag-team operation.

Let's set the scene: Jane Godley is behind me, sighing and huffing and mumbling, "o.k...what?! I'm so confused. I don't understand" etc. It was all I could do not to turn around and slap her. A few kept banging their heads against the brick wall that separates their American enculturation, Christian indoctrination, and Western education (such as it is) from the whole of Eastern thought, and kept asking terribly inept and ill-formed questions. Most were just staring straight ahead and trying not to move or even breathe for fear of drawing unwanted attention, and God forbid they be asked a question like, "what do you think?" (Um...they don't.)

Their biggest problem was dealing with the concept of no-self. A basic tenet of Buddhism is the belief in the impermanence of things. Every thing in this world, including humans, is in constant flux. When we fail to recognize this and live in ignorance we cling to things and/or people, and then suffer needlessly when those things/people are gone from us. All life is suffering. To end suffering one must be free from attachment. This includes an attachment to self, what we today would call ego. Or, what the "Kids in the Hall" (not the Canadian variety show; scroll down. You'll know what I mean.) would call soul. They simply cannot set aside their belief in a creator God, an eternal soul or their modern concept of self for one second in order to attempt to grasp what the Buddha is teaching.

Now, I have no way of knowing what most of these people studied (or didn't study) in their undergrad work. I get the impression most of them majored in Marriage and Family, or Feelings, or Fluffy Little Animals. I have a strong background in philosophy. It was a large component of my major. Which, I concede, probably gives me a better than average advantage. And in order to participate in today's discussion you really needed at least some experience with philosophical thought, method, and process.

My favorite moment came when John Godley threw this bomb: "Now, I have a friend who was taking a philosophy class, and at the end of the class he stood up and challenged the professor by saying, 'prove that I exist.' to which the professor replied, 'if you didn't exist, I would ask who or what just asked that question?' Would the Buddha (BOO-duh) answer differently, since according to him we don't exist?" Without missing a beat, the professor responded, "well, the Buddha would probably say that would depend on what you mean by 'I'. In every language we have a utilitarian way of talking about self, but that is just so we can communicate with each other and function on a very superficial, perfunctory level. It doesn't speak to the higher truth." He had nothing in return, demoralized and silenced for the moment.

Jane Godley pipes up: I don't understand how there can be no concept of self. I mean, I recognize that we are all different, have different talents, different memories. So, how can they say there is no self, when obviously we are different. And the professor returns the serve: Buddhism does not deny that we are all different. We are; and they recognize that we are unique. But there is no essence, no eternal soul in Buddhism. When you die, your existence is transported to another life and another reality. But in this life, your form, the one we all recognize as Emily, is conditional. It depends on all these other things and people being here and recognizing and mentally reassembling your aggregate parts. But you are always in flux.

John Godley, having recovered (sort of...) said: I guess I'm just asking a Western question for which their is no Eastern answer. By far, the most insightful thing I have ever heard him utter. I could stand it no longer. I knew I had already monopolized much of the time, but NOTHING the professor and I, and a couple of other MTS students who were clearly understanding this but were probably a little battle-weary, were saying was sinking in. I addressed John's issues first: I think that you are right in saying it is a Western question for which there is no Eastern answer. But more than that, it is anachronistic. Our concept of self is a very recent development. It has come to us from Enlightenment thinking and Modern Psychology. They would have had no concept of self that would be in any way recognizable to us, and vice versa.

And now to Jane: And I think you can grasp the concept of the impermanence of self on a very practical and concrete level. You are not, in fact, the same person you were yesterday or even five minutes ago. Your hair is longer, your nails are longer, you have lost brain cells and dead skin cells, you have lost and gained knowledge and memories. To which the professor said, "yes, I think that's exactly right. And that is the kind of example the Buddha would have used; something from nature that was visible and demonstrable to his students. He just took it much further, to the entire universe and beyond." I scored major points with her. And John and Jane probably think I'm an even bigger freak than previously imagined. All in all, a very successful day.

Random Musing

I have found out what Jane Godley's real name is. Emily. But of course it is...just precious. Still don't know John Godley's real name. It's probably Eric. Or Kevin. Or...John.

Let's Play "Spot the Atheist":

Whenever I can't sleep I imagine I'm standing in the middle of the courtyard, between the classroom building and the chapel, and count the closet atheists. Sometimes it works, and I nod right off. Sometimes, well...there are just too many of them to count. Seminary just beats the God right out of you. Well, the Church anyway.

I am not a closet atheist. I came out. In a spectacular way, in front of my Sociology of Religion class. I have no idea what possessed me to say this. It certainly wasn't the Holy Spirit. Our first assignment is to research the doctrine/beliefs/whatever and observe the activities of a faith tradition not our own, with a demographic different from ours. For instance, if you're a WASP-y Presby from Connecticut, you might want to visit an African Methodist Episcopal Church, or a Holyness Tabernacle. Those are the Snake Handlers, by the way. I can't imagine anything scaring the shit out of a sheltered Ivy League town girl more...can you? If so, I'd love to hear it. I'm always looking for new ideas.

Anyway, I'm interested in doing my paper on the Baha'i Faith. My stylist is Baha'i, and so is my former Honors Mentor/Academic Advisor at my undergrad institution. Neither was raised in the Baha'i faith; not many are. They come to it in their adulthood. My stylist is Persian, my professor is Dutch. Calvinist. (Talk about beating the God right out of you.) My stylist's husband is also a college professor. And not knowing who else is a part of their devotional group, I am a bit concerned that most of them are also educated professionals and academics, which would put me smack-dab in the middle of that demographic. So, I raised this concern with the professor. "Are you Baha'i?" he asked. "No," I said. "I'm a non-practicing nothing, which pretty much leaves my options wide open." The walls of the classroom seemed to expand and then contract sharply as everyone took this in, registered shock, and then gasped.

The professor didn't seem the least bit surprised, or shocked, or offended, or concerned. (I love this guy.) He then asked, "well, were you raised in a particular tradition?" I responded, "yes. Methodist. I have absolutely no interest in revisiting that." Another gasp. O.K. huge clue time: this is a UMC Seminary. Most of the MDiv students who are on the ordination track will become United Methodist ministers. I just offended and alienated more than half the class. In less than a minute. Damn, I'm good.

Footnote:

Yes, I know Holiness is spelled incorrectly. In the outside world. But that is how most of them in this state spell it. The Pentecostals of this particular sect, usually called "Holiness Church," in Canada and other Northern states spell it with an i. For those who are unfamiliar with the practice of snake handling, and drinking water laced with arsenic or strychnine, and engaging in glossolalia (speaking in tongues), The Holiness believers base their entire church around apocryphal verses in Mark: "And these signs will accompany those who believe: by using my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick and they will recover." Mark 16: 17-18, NRSV


That should tell you something right there...an entire dogma built around two verses of Scripture taken entirely out of context. Maybe they're on to something here. I should proof-text a tiny, obscure verse and start my own church. No doubt it will be something from Revelation. Because nothing gets a cult going better than the End of Days. As they say...there are no atheists in the foxholes.

Pointed Rant

(Or, maybe it's a Random Rant. It certainly isn't a Random Musing.)

So here I am, sicker than a dog, stuck in my bed with nothing else to do except read, read, read. I haven't been this on top of my reading since I returned to academia. Anyway, I'm popping Tylenol Cold Head Congestion, Severe like it's candy. The caplets have this "Cool Burst" coating, which is sort of a sweet minty flavor. I hate it. Cool burst? All it does is give me heartburn. I'd hardly call that "cool."

That's all. I just had to share that with you. Perhaps I should go back to bed.

It has been two weeks since my last blog entry, so I thought I would write to tell you all that there isn't much to tell. I live an action-packed life, don't I? Actually, I've been spending more time at home than I have on campus lately. I have been struck down by a nasty little flu bug, and haven't felt comfortable being too far away from my bed. I have been keeping up with the hundreds of pages of reading; I have nothing else to do.

Yesterday, I got out among 'em to stand in line for one hour to then stand in front of a voting terminal for fifteen seconds. While I was in line, I spiked another fever and almost passed out. All this for a guy who thoroughly destroyed his competion in the state. But my vote counts, dammit!! I shouldn't be sarcastic. It was quite a momentous occasion, and I rather relished being a part of history. I have never voted for a candidate who's campaign slogan ended in a preposition. But then, I suppose "Change in which we can believe" just isn't as snappy, is it...

Hopefully I'll be back in action soon and have something a little more interesting to report. For now, I'm going back to bed.

Deja vu and the Moldy Oldie:

You may have noticed from the time stamp of my previous entry that I am supposed to be in class right now. Let me explain: Tuesdays are a real bitch and a half. It is a twelve hour day. I have a 9:30 a.m. class, choir practice at 12:00, a class at 1:00, and my once-a-week Rastafari class from 6:30-9:30 p.m. As previously stated, in order to arrive on time for my 9:30 class, I need to get up around 6:00 a.m. Which means I like to be in bed at 9:30 p.m. Until we actually do solve the riddle of the space/time continuum, this simply is not possible on Tuesday nights. Super charging my hybrid (which I affectionately call my granola rocket; no, really - that baby hauls ass!) and doing away with speeding tickets could help, but neither of those are real possibilities, either. So, I knew Wednesday mornings were going to be really ugly. This one was worse than usual. I had a massive headache that just didn't allow me to get any sleep. And then there is the class.

It is the Interpretation of Christian Thought class that is being taught by my advisor. I was really looking forward to this class. Because he is my advisor, and this class deals with my sub-discipline, I was hoping that whatever term paper(s) we had in this class would serve as the writing sample I submit with my PhD program applications in the fall. No such luck. There are nearly 200 people in this class, and despite the fact he has five teaching assistants, reading that many papers is just not practical or possible. The only grades will be weekly on-line quizzes, a multiple choice mid-term, and a multiple choice final. Strike one.

I began reading the text for today's class, and got through a few pages before tossing it aside in disgust. Not only is it the most basic and introductory information on this subject, (been there, done that, BORING!) it is out-dated and now widely considered to be inaccurate. The book was published in 1992, not terrible old, but it may as well have been 1922. So many new discoveries have been made, and re-evaluations, and reinterpretations have been posited and accepted, that this book is laughable. Strike two.

Today's lecture deals specifically with a subject on which I have written several times, and for which I have presented papers at a couple of conferences. I could give this lecture. There was no way I was dragging my ass (and aching head) out of bed after maybe three hours of sleep, throw on some clothes, drive an hour and a half for an hour and twenty minute class on information I could recite in my sleep, then drive home while trying not to fall asleep at the wheel. Strike three. I'm out.

Kids in the Hall

I have decided to add this new featurette, along with the "Random Musings," the "Pointed Rants," and the "Quotables" because I often overhear snippets of conversation that are just too funny, or odd, or shocking not to share with you and inject my own sick humor.

"What classes are you taking?"
"This one, Greek, ConEd..."
"Real Greek? Or..."

No, darling. Fake Greek. Pig Greek. From which the Romans developed their Pig Latin.