A Time to Laugh

Consuming Jihad

The following Bill Moyers’ interview is with one of my favorite authors EVAH — Benjamin Barber of Jihad vs. McWorld fame. That’s one of the books from the huge grad school avalanche that has continued to needle me. In there, Barber argues that the singular unifying push of fundamentalism is at odds with the pseudo-plurality of capitalism. But in the end, Jihad divides more than it unifies, and McWorld limits choice more than it diversifies. Barber’s text is a terrific read no matter what — he’s one of those rare academics that can write for the mainstream — and he’s always got great cover art!

This latest discussion intrigues me. If you can get past the irony that he gets called a Scrooge at Christmas for telling people to stop consuming (!), the idea that risk has been socialized is new to me. I also appreciate that he’s not a Marxist that just wants revolution; he suggests real change within the system. Imagine that — a productive critic!

I’d like to chew on what he says about the Market in regards to what that means for the Church. It’s no surprise that American Evangelicalism is nothing more than a commercialized faith. That’s not my conclusion, and that’s not a new conclusion. Willow Creek is to your typical indy-fundy-Baptist church what Super Walmart is to a Mom-and-Pop True Value — both offering goods, both selling services, both operating within the same commercialized life. One just feels more “old school” than the other.

What happens when instead of making consumers of religion, the contemporary Church makes citizens? I’m not proposing an answer (yet), but I think that dances around the reason so many indy-fund-Baptist believers are leaving fundamentalism in droves. Yes, droves!

The whole thing also makes me reconsider all the support I’m hearing for Ron Paul.

Technorati Tags: Benjamin Barber, Bill Moyers, Consumerism, Ron Paul, Fundamentalism, Evangelicalism

My Man, That’s Who!

What kind of man, when asked what he wants for his birthday, requests a low-keyed day at home playing with silly boys and a yarpy dog while his wife makes his favorite meal: Chicken Booyah, PB&J (Peter Pan and grape jelly only, please), and A&W Root Beer followed by chocolate chip cookies, milk, and maybe some peppermint ice cream?

• An ISTJ/INTJ who likes familiar things.

• A good boy who was raised well with good, Missouri cooking.

• A overwhelmingly content man.

• My man. All mine.

Happy Birthday, Honey. Is it any wonder why I think you’re wonderful? Thank you for making me the happiest woman in the world!

Wonderful!

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

It was an adventure birthday. With pirates and heroes, swords and boots. You can hardly tell the difference between our four-year-old and Link himself, can you?

Thanks for the adventure, Little One! From your birth to this fourth celebration! A wonderful adventure!

Grafted In

We have been shielded from the awful nature of Christmas and no longer feel afraid at the coming near of God Almighty.  We have selected from the Christmas story only the pleasant bits, forgetting the awesome nature of an event in which the God of the universe, its Creator and Sustainer, draws near to this little planet, and now speaks to us.  The coming of God is not only a message of joy, but also fearful news for anyone who has a conscience.

It is only by facing up to the fearfulness of the event that we can begin to understand the incomparable blessing.  God comes into the midst of evil and death, to judge the evil in the world – and in us.  And while he judges us, he loves us, he purifies us, he saves us, and he comes to us with gifts of grace and love.  He makes us happy as only children know….  God is with us and we are no longer homeless.  A piece of the eternal home is grafted into us.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

“Shut up!”

We try to avoid that phrase around here. Sometimes it slips out when Little Ms. Barks-a-Bunch won’t hush. Isaac’s adopted “Quit it!” and “Cut that out!” instead. I guess that’s better? . . . not sure.

Telling a terrier to “Hush!” just doesn’t work. She has something to say! “Arf! Outside!! Feline!!!” “BrACK! Alarm! Potty alert!!” “Hey!! Couch potato!! Child’s crying!! MOVE!!”

At risk of encouraging the obvious and unflattering connection between me and our little lady dog, I’ve been told to shut up a lot too. Especially lately. So I think I know how Sugar feels. “Be quiet? Why? You need to know this!! There’s a man in a brown uniform knocking at the door with a big box. It could be a cat. It could be kibble. How would you know any of this unless I helped you see it? Isn’t that why you got me? Your dad says I’m a good watch dog!! He understands.”

A friend good-naturedly challenged me to find any Biblical example for what I do on this blog. He, of course, assumed that there would be no examples. ::scratch:: And I can’t find anything but support! 

Any writing is similar, isn’t it? Exposing feelings, opinions, perspectives, arguments, and conclusions. I mean, if you’re posting a laundry list of complaints or identifying a contemporary problem in the Church, what’s the difference? What’s the difference between this and preaching (all blogs — especially from the deeply religious — are polemics. All language is sermonic anyway, isn’t it? All good Burkeans and all true conservatives know that it is.)? Those questions aren’t merely rhetorical. I think the real difference is just that we’re in the middle of it, that it’s hitting a little too close to home, that you might think you know who I’m talking about (when, unless you’ve asked me, you probably don’t), or that you prefer not to know about it. In other words, my self-reflexivity makes you uncomfortable. I can accept that. I don’t always want to know about the UPS man at the door either (that’s what ear plugs and/or iPods are for).

But those are human examples. How about Scriptural ones? Okay . . . . isn’t that what David does in the Psalms?

Blessed is the one who considers the poor!
   In the day of trouble the LORD delivers him;
the LORD protects him and keeps him alive;
   he is called blessed in the land;
   you do not give him up to the will of his enemies.
The LORD sustains him on his sickbed;
   in his illness you restore him to full health.
As for me, I said, “O LORD, be gracious to me;
   heal me, for I have sinned against you!”
My enemies say of me in malice,
   “When will he die, and his name perish?”
And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words,
   while his heart gathers iniquity;
   when he goes out, he tells it abroad.
All who hate me whisper together about me;
   they imagine the worst for me.

They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him;
   he will not rise again from where he lies.”
Even my close friend in whom I trusted,
   who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me.
But you, O LORD, be gracious to me,
   and raise me up, that I may repay them!

By this I know that you delight in me:
   my enemy will not shout in triumph over me.
But you have upheld me because of my integrity,
   and set me in your presence forever.

Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel,
   from everlasting to everlasting!

         Amen and Amen.

And the Prophets?

Seek the LORD while he may be found;
   call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake his way,
   and the unrighteous man his thoughts;
let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him,
   and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

Christ scolds the mercenary system in place in the Temple. Paul addresses specific and personal issues to a general audience all through his epistles. For instance, commentators surmise that Paul references a specific Judaizer in Galatians. His public warning to the Galatian church contains particular rebukes about which they could fill-in-the-blanks. He’s rebuilding his credibility that his “opponents” have torn down. He’s building a case — publicly and specifically. In other words, it’s not that Paul shuts up just because he’s addressed an issue privately.

What’s the difference between these examples and my words? I can hear the easiest retort: “Well, they were writing Scripture. You’re not.” Well, ::chuckle:: duh! ;) I never claimed to be. But surely no one would say that unless you’re speaking directly from God Himself, you’re not allowed to talk. Besides, I was asked to find Biblical examples.

The other response I can hear in the ether is this: “You can’t compare yourself to the poets or the prophets or to Christ or to the Apostle. They were writing to a specific audience and for a particular occasion. You can’t apply that method today.” ::scratch:: Really? I actually heard a similar explanation of Galatians recently: that it doesn’t apply to today because Paul was talking to a specific problem back then, not to us today. Oh? . . . Yikes! I don’t think you mean that. I really don’t.

It seems, plain and simple, that deference is always given to the powerful Status Quo. Always. If you disagree with the system, that’s fine. But you’d better keep it to yourself. If you dare to speak your disagreement, you will be severely punished. In the end, Scripture is (mis)used to shut up the dissident, to maintain the illusion of a placid unity. And that sort of deference to the powerful, I will say quite bluntly, is nothing short of idolatry. The Hegemony is not God.

I really think that Aristotle’s perspective is spot-on in these situations: the truth is strong enough to win the day. I can speak boldly because God will bring Himself to light — with me or in spite of me. The Apostle Paul puts it this way:

Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God’s grace, which was given me by the working of his power. To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him.

If you don’t like what you read here, stop reading. I’m okay with that. I’ll still chat with you if I see you at the Playplace. I’ve mentioned no names. I’ve slandered no one. And I won’t. I’m processing my thoughts about leaving a slice of the world that was my home for 20 years. And it ain’t easy. And it helps the Body in the process. I’ve seen evidence of that. Through much prayer, I believe that God wants me to actually be bolder than I have been. So now’s a good time for those who are uncomfortable to subscribe to my vintage cooking blog instead.

I have been tempted at times to just throw a pillow at Sugar to get her to hush. I have learned what a rotten idea that is! First of all, it’s a bad example to my sons. I don’t want them to think that throwing things at those smaller and yappier is an appropriate response to our own misunderstanding and frustration. And, to be painfully blunt, if I don’t pay attention to her, I usually end up with a puddle on the floor, and it’s entirely my own fault for not listening closely to her.

Gotta run. Guess who’s barking?

Counting. . . .

One. Koooo. Eeeeee!

Gavin, Counting at 21 months, 6 days

Treasures

Some time ago, a friend made a decision I didn’t understand. I admit that. As I was praying for her back then, I said outloud, “I think she did the wrong thing. But I want to be her friend. Lord, help me be a friend.”

In the months to follow, many people told me how sinful her decision was and how she was officially punished for it. God reminded me to pray, “Lord, help me be a friend.”

In time, I better understand her decision. And now I realize that the judgment that was so quickly my first resort is easy within my limited perspective. But Grace is the thing that reminds me that I’m bent toward judgment because of my own puny eyesight. It’s Grace that pushes me to assume Christ is there even when I can’t see Him.

Six years ago we lost our Elise. I know that God allowed that to happen. I knew it then as much as I do now. And yet days after she was born, my body was preparing to nurture a life that wasn’t there. My body literally ached for her. And my heart hurt. Those are contradictions: to want your baby so badly, but to know that God has her and that He’s good. How do I endure those tensions? The same way as with a friend’s decision I don’t understand — with His Grace.

Holidays are a sentimental time. I pull out ornaments from dear friends that remind me of their sweet, tender care over the years. Grant rolls out the Christmas play lists, and I remember the times we sat in the choir loft in our robes listening to that orchestral offertory as he whispered, “This Christmas will be the best one ever!” — anticipating that gift in 1988 that would anticipate our wedding in 1990. Those are treasured memories. God wanted us there. And He wants us here now. That is a sort of contradiction. But in His Grace, we can all still be friends, knowing that in Him we’re all His.

“Why did they move?”

Isaac watched his birthday video yesterday. A lot. We talked about how he grew in Mommy’s tummy, and how all people start out in their Mommy’s tummy. That made sense about Isaac and Gavin and Sugar. But even Uncle Steve! Wow!!

So this is what I heard at lunch today:

Isaac: “Grandma, do you have a Mommy and Daddy?”
Grandma: “Well, I did. They are in Heaven now.”
Isaac: ” ::think think think:: . . . Why did they move?”

Chappy Chanukkah!

Thanks to Elmo, Isaac asked if we could celebrate Hanukkah this year. I said, “Well, Jesus celebrated Hanukkah. Some say He was conceived during Hanukkah. Okay. Let’s see.”

So I made the menorah — a little bit of Martha, a little bit of an excuse to practice knitting with wire. I lined up the latke recipes. We found some gelt. We got a few books — one for kids, one with the whole story, and one to satisfy Mom’s obsession with American history (especially as it intersects with Polish history!). We even had some honest-to-goodness homemade chicken noodle soup a la Kaminski! I did overhear my tender little near-4-year-old ask the dog today, “Sugar? Do you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanza?” And then I heard Sugar respond in a familiar voice (but pitched a little higher than the 4yo’s), “I celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah.” Who IS this child?

The Jewish custom is to recite a certain blessing with the lighting of the candles. I thought we couldn’t resist talking about the Light of the World at these moments, so I’ve collected several such “blessings” from the New Testament. For today:

God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. . . . If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.
I John 1:5-7

That’s the “shammash” up there. It’s the “worker” candle. But Isaac calls it the “pastor candle.” “Why, Isaac? Where did you get that?” “Well, Mommy. It’s taller than all the others, see? And it lights all the other candles. It’s the servant candle. So it’s the pastor!” Wow. That child. . . .

Technorati Tags: knitting with wire, hanukkah, homemade menorah