In my last blog entry, I lamented about being relegated to the world of women. Lest anyone assume that I do not value relationships with other women, let me now present the flip-side of that argument.
One of the reasons I can complain about my situation is because I have such wonderful relationships with other women. When I first became a Christian, several young women took me under their wings and mentored me. They taught what it meant to be a Christian. They bought me my first Bibles. They led small groups that I was a part of. And they saw the gifts for ministry in me before anyone else. They advocated for me and opened the doors that began my journey towards ordination.
Today, I have a wonderful network of women that I am a part of. They are all ages, in various stages of life, scattered all over the world. Some of them mentor me. Some of them I mentor. Many of them are what some would term “holy friendships,” ones that support and encourage me, walk alongside me in the faith, cause me to strive for excellence, and remind me continually of God’s presence. These women have been incredibly important to me for a variety of reasons.
The world gives women (well, all of us, but women in particular) a lot of mixed messages about who we are and who we are to be. The patriarchal systems and the sexism that persists today is at times blatant, but often much more subtle. When it is blatant, my women friends can laugh with me and rage with me, helping to remind me that my identity is in Christ not with those who devalue women. When it is more subtle, women friends can help me see those patterns, to stop doubting myself. They can share similar experiences. Some have gone before me and can offer advice. Some have come behind me and can remind me how far we have come.
But it is more than that… these women help teach me each day what it is to be a woman. What do I mean by that? It used to be that we grew up in communities, extended families, places where traditions and knowledge and secrets were passed on. Okay, perhaps only the healthy communities. But where today can you truly talk about some of the things that are truly unique to being a woman? Or perhaps are just truly unique to who you are but you are terrified they will cause you to be marginalized and silenced because they are too “feminine.” For example… I am a crier. For some of you that may be difficult to believe, but when I am under tremendous stress, or have not slept, or perhaps in the midst of my period, or someone evokes the issues I’ve had with my father… I cry. I can’t help it. I have tried to work on it. I have had a few bosses that have had to weather through it. Where can you talk about that?
Where can you talk about the changes you are going through when you are pregnant or going through menopause… especially when you are a pastor and the entire congregation is watching?
Where can you talk about the struggles of how to dress professionally… and feminine… and to indicate that you are available… and to reflect your personality… and to feel good about yourself… and not provide a temptation to anyone… and appropriate for the culture you are working in… and….
Where can you talk about the choices you are making in your career… and your personal life… how those things are not separate for you… how they don’t fit together neatly or easily… how they lead to lives that meander and wander rather than following a linear path up the corporate ladder?
In Elaine Lawless’s ethnographic study of a group of women clergy, Holy Women, Wholly Women, she writes of the need to “hear one another into speech.” How finding safe places to speak the stories of our lives is crucial to living an abundant life. Her study is worth looking at if you are interested in a peak into the world of professional clergy women. In reading her book, I was reminded that there are many women who have not been blessed by the relationships I have had with other women. They have been deep and meaningful, formative and fulfilling. Which is why, despite how they operate in my own life, I still feel that women’s groups are vital to the church and to our world. Every woman should have the opportunity to be blessed by relationships similar to the ones I have shared….
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Relegated to a World of Women
I have been reading in the area of feminist ecclesiology and feminist research recently. So much of the women’s movement and the Christian feminist movement is centered on the idea of women gathering together to form communities of worship that are uniquely feminine. This entails a difference in both structure and content. Most of feminists pride themselves on the non-hierarchical nature of their communities and gatherings. In addition, they attend to aspects of God and of humanity that are uniquely feminine, seeking to expand our image of God beyond the limitations of gender as well as attending to God in all aspects of a woman’s life. This means expanding language for God, attending to women in the Biblical texts, and creating rituals that mark the physical changes in the bodies of women over time.
I think of myself as a feminist these days, but I have to admit that such a group has little or no appeal to me these days. I realize that it has something to do with my personality. I like structure and I am a bit task oriented. And while I consider myself very feminine, I see very little of my style of femininity reflected in Christian communities these days, even those with a feminist emphasis. These feelings grow even stronger when I consider the women’s groups without a feminist emphasis. I have been to a few Women’s retreats and conferences, but I have never felt at home at any of them.
While some of this has to do with personality, much of it has to do with our cultural construction of gender. Now, I should say that I am speaking primarily about white, middle-class, evangelical women. The cultural constructions are somewhat different in different cultures. Yet, I recognize that it is often my single status in combination with my gender that provides the most difficulty.
I have often resisted women’s groups because so much of the focus is on their roles as wives and mothers. Women so often construct their identity around the primary relationships in their lives and these are most often with their spouse and children. Working women also add in their professional identity, but their struggles often have to do with the tension this provides in their other relationships. This is not always the case. Working wives and mom’s face discrimination in the workplace struggling with racism and sexism just like the rest of us. As do stay at home mom’s. My resistance has nothing to do with resisting these roles or diminishing the challenges that go along with them. It is simply that participating in groups that highlight these roles, I am forced to forever be reminded that I have not been blessed with either of them. And, while it is not generally intentional, being in these groups, rather than empowering me as a woman make me question if I will ever fully be a woman.
This has been my general response up to this point and I still hold to it, but I have come to understand one other aspect of my resistance in recent days. Gathering with other women is supposed to be empowering. It is a chance to get away from a male-dominated world and fully live into who we are as women. But for me, rather than making me feel connected, gathering with other women makes me feel marginalized. Because I am always with other women. Almost always.
As a single women, my life has been relegated to a predominantly female sphere. It seems that once you pass a certain age, you are expected to primarily have relationships that are the same gender. This is not so say that I don’t have male friendships, but they are extremely limited in scope. Most of my friends are women. I have so many single women friends you would think that the church is full of them! And when I enter a new community or a new work setting, I am immediately introduced to more women friends. And it seems that the church assumes that these single women friends will meet all my needs for friendship and intimacy. But, of course, don’t get too intimate… though, we would all understand that if you didn’t get married you would have to meet your physical needs somewhere and we would rather you do that off to the side with your women friends rather than sleep around with the men. (I know this is crass, but I have had people actually say this to me!)
It is not that I don’t think women’s groups are important, it is simply that I am with women all the time! I love them dearly! But it often seems we are considered some alien culture off on the margins of the church never to fully integrate into the lives of everyone else. I realize I am exaggerating a bit and that not all single women in the church feel this way… but it makes me very sad. Mostly sad that these women’s groups that are supposed to be so empowering and so supportive, the very fabric of women’s relationships in the church, now feel very marginalizing… I feel marginalized within the groups and as a part of the groups, relegated to the world of women. It should be a feminist fantasy come true… relegated to a world of women! Instead, it becomes another way that sexism and our cultural constructions of gender confine us, all of us, into separate spheres rather than allowing us to live together as the body of Christ, male and female, in the image of God.
I think of myself as a feminist these days, but I have to admit that such a group has little or no appeal to me these days. I realize that it has something to do with my personality. I like structure and I am a bit task oriented. And while I consider myself very feminine, I see very little of my style of femininity reflected in Christian communities these days, even those with a feminist emphasis. These feelings grow even stronger when I consider the women’s groups without a feminist emphasis. I have been to a few Women’s retreats and conferences, but I have never felt at home at any of them.
While some of this has to do with personality, much of it has to do with our cultural construction of gender. Now, I should say that I am speaking primarily about white, middle-class, evangelical women. The cultural constructions are somewhat different in different cultures. Yet, I recognize that it is often my single status in combination with my gender that provides the most difficulty.
I have often resisted women’s groups because so much of the focus is on their roles as wives and mothers. Women so often construct their identity around the primary relationships in their lives and these are most often with their spouse and children. Working women also add in their professional identity, but their struggles often have to do with the tension this provides in their other relationships. This is not always the case. Working wives and mom’s face discrimination in the workplace struggling with racism and sexism just like the rest of us. As do stay at home mom’s. My resistance has nothing to do with resisting these roles or diminishing the challenges that go along with them. It is simply that participating in groups that highlight these roles, I am forced to forever be reminded that I have not been blessed with either of them. And, while it is not generally intentional, being in these groups, rather than empowering me as a woman make me question if I will ever fully be a woman.
This has been my general response up to this point and I still hold to it, but I have come to understand one other aspect of my resistance in recent days. Gathering with other women is supposed to be empowering. It is a chance to get away from a male-dominated world and fully live into who we are as women. But for me, rather than making me feel connected, gathering with other women makes me feel marginalized. Because I am always with other women. Almost always.
As a single women, my life has been relegated to a predominantly female sphere. It seems that once you pass a certain age, you are expected to primarily have relationships that are the same gender. This is not so say that I don’t have male friendships, but they are extremely limited in scope. Most of my friends are women. I have so many single women friends you would think that the church is full of them! And when I enter a new community or a new work setting, I am immediately introduced to more women friends. And it seems that the church assumes that these single women friends will meet all my needs for friendship and intimacy. But, of course, don’t get too intimate… though, we would all understand that if you didn’t get married you would have to meet your physical needs somewhere and we would rather you do that off to the side with your women friends rather than sleep around with the men. (I know this is crass, but I have had people actually say this to me!)
It is not that I don’t think women’s groups are important, it is simply that I am with women all the time! I love them dearly! But it often seems we are considered some alien culture off on the margins of the church never to fully integrate into the lives of everyone else. I realize I am exaggerating a bit and that not all single women in the church feel this way… but it makes me very sad. Mostly sad that these women’s groups that are supposed to be so empowering and so supportive, the very fabric of women’s relationships in the church, now feel very marginalizing… I feel marginalized within the groups and as a part of the groups, relegated to the world of women. It should be a feminist fantasy come true… relegated to a world of women! Instead, it becomes another way that sexism and our cultural constructions of gender confine us, all of us, into separate spheres rather than allowing us to live together as the body of Christ, male and female, in the image of God.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Lessons from the Three Year Olds...
This month in Sunday School we are studying parables. A very difficult concept for three year olds! Try to explain how the kingdom of God is like yeast… Try to explain yeast! Generally the more abstract concepts prove the most difficult, but last week it was a very basic concept that threw them off.
We were studying Matthew 20:1-16. It is the parable in which the landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers. He offers to pay them a fair wage and they agree. Later in the day, the landowner goes out to recruit more workers… and offers them the same amount of money even though they are only working part of the day. At the last hour, the landowner goes out to recruit a final group of workers and again pays them the same amount as those recruited early in the morning. Generally this is an easy parable to explain. We are acutely aware of the injustice inherent in the parable. How could the landowner not see that it was unfair to pay so much to those who had worked so little! Those recruited early in the morning had worked hard! They deserved to be paid more! Isn’t that how our society works? If you work hard you will be rewarded? There are no free handouts in our society.
The three year olds, unfortunately, do not have this same concept of fairness. They do not understand working hard and being rewarded. Imagine us trying to convince them how unfair the parable was! Especially when they immediately grasped what Jesus was trying to teach. For these little ones, fair was each one receiving an equal share. They understood receiving and wanted all to receive. Now, I am not arguing that three year olds are perfect or are not selfish. They want things just as much as the rest of us. But they are able to receive freely. Actually, they often have no other choice. Everything they have has been freely received.
When do we forget that? The fact that everything we have has also been freely received. Everything we have has been graciously given to us by God. We did not earn it. We did not do anything to deserve it. Yet we do deserve it… we deserve it because we are beloved children of God. We all deserve it. We all deserve the grace of God. Those who worked hard from early in the morning and those who received grace late in the day. This is not an excuse to reward yourself. It is not an excuse to justify over-consumption arguing that all we have is free gift of God. It is not a call to those who do not have to live patiently waiting for God to provide. Rather, it is a call to fight against the jealousy that can so easily entangle us. The desire to have what all those around us have.
This parable becomes even more difficult for us to grasp when we fall into the trap of believing the all-American myth that if you work hard you will be rewarded. You will be rewarded if you do the things that are valued by our society… and from what I have observed, we value athletes, movies stars, pop musicians, and wealthy people. The reality is that those who have often are able to gain more much more easily than those who do not have. You can work hard all of your life and never make it. That is not to say that the American dream does not come true at times for some. And it is more likely to come true in this country than it is in many other places in the world. But we all know people who work extremely hard and are not paid nearly enough… school teachers, janitors, social workers, secretaries, housecleaners.
But, back to the parable. Back to the lesson from those little three year olds. God offers us a gracious gift. The same gift is offered to all. God offers us the kingdom. God offers us the chance to become children of God, to stand side by side as equals before the Lord. Perhaps this is what it means to become like little children.
We were studying Matthew 20:1-16. It is the parable in which the landowner goes out early in the morning to hire workers. He offers to pay them a fair wage and they agree. Later in the day, the landowner goes out to recruit more workers… and offers them the same amount of money even though they are only working part of the day. At the last hour, the landowner goes out to recruit a final group of workers and again pays them the same amount as those recruited early in the morning. Generally this is an easy parable to explain. We are acutely aware of the injustice inherent in the parable. How could the landowner not see that it was unfair to pay so much to those who had worked so little! Those recruited early in the morning had worked hard! They deserved to be paid more! Isn’t that how our society works? If you work hard you will be rewarded? There are no free handouts in our society.
The three year olds, unfortunately, do not have this same concept of fairness. They do not understand working hard and being rewarded. Imagine us trying to convince them how unfair the parable was! Especially when they immediately grasped what Jesus was trying to teach. For these little ones, fair was each one receiving an equal share. They understood receiving and wanted all to receive. Now, I am not arguing that three year olds are perfect or are not selfish. They want things just as much as the rest of us. But they are able to receive freely. Actually, they often have no other choice. Everything they have has been freely received.
When do we forget that? The fact that everything we have has also been freely received. Everything we have has been graciously given to us by God. We did not earn it. We did not do anything to deserve it. Yet we do deserve it… we deserve it because we are beloved children of God. We all deserve it. We all deserve the grace of God. Those who worked hard from early in the morning and those who received grace late in the day. This is not an excuse to reward yourself. It is not an excuse to justify over-consumption arguing that all we have is free gift of God. It is not a call to those who do not have to live patiently waiting for God to provide. Rather, it is a call to fight against the jealousy that can so easily entangle us. The desire to have what all those around us have.
This parable becomes even more difficult for us to grasp when we fall into the trap of believing the all-American myth that if you work hard you will be rewarded. You will be rewarded if you do the things that are valued by our society… and from what I have observed, we value athletes, movies stars, pop musicians, and wealthy people. The reality is that those who have often are able to gain more much more easily than those who do not have. You can work hard all of your life and never make it. That is not to say that the American dream does not come true at times for some. And it is more likely to come true in this country than it is in many other places in the world. But we all know people who work extremely hard and are not paid nearly enough… school teachers, janitors, social workers, secretaries, housecleaners.
But, back to the parable. Back to the lesson from those little three year olds. God offers us a gracious gift. The same gift is offered to all. God offers us the kingdom. God offers us the chance to become children of God, to stand side by side as equals before the Lord. Perhaps this is what it means to become like little children.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Women and Leadership
I have been preparing for a class that I am teaching with Klyne Snodgrass next week on Women, the Bible, and the Church and I think I have finally found a book on women and leadership that I want to recommend to others. I wish I had found it sooner. I would have added it to the required reading for the class! The book is titled Leading Women: How Church Women Can Avoid Leadership Traps and Negotiate the Gender Maze by Carol E. Becker (Abingdon, 1996).
The book draws on various sociological studies regarding women, leadership, and the church but does so in a way that is very approachable and readable. I am in the midst of the section on leadership traps that women fall into. Don't let the title fool you. It is not simply about the things that women do that cause their leadership to go unrecognized, but also about the many traps that seem to be set up by our culture. Ways in which women, at times, can't win no matter which path they choose. The first chapter is called "Organizational Wives or New Paradigm Leaders?" It highlights the way that women often end up functioning like psuedo-wives in a various professional and ministry situations. Women have often been shaped from an early age to multi-task and to attend to the needs of a group. They tend to be peacemakers and calendar keepers. While this leads to strong administrative gifts, these gifts are often used in a marginal way. Women are seen to attend to detail but lack the ability to think in broader categories. In addition, in family system theory thinking, women often end up attending to the emotional needs of the group. While this is valued as bringing unity to an organization, it is not considered leadership.
I have been in several positions that have had "organizational wife" aspects too them... a minister of Christian Education on a large staff and the dean of students at the seminary. I realize that it is not simply the positions, but also the way that I function within them. And it is something that I need to change. As the "organizational wife" in various organizations, I often bear much of the tension within a community and internalize it to a greater degree than is necessary. I also find that I end up doing more day to day administrative tasks than most of my male colleagues. Partly this is a function of where I am on the administrative ladder in a system. The farther down the less administrative support you receive. In my positions as dean of students I went from stuffing mailboxes to operating with several office staff. I had to learn to let go and be all right with asking for administrative support from another person. When your identity is located in knowing all the details within the family, this can be difficult to let go of. Some of you probably know exactly what I am talking about!
I'll try to post more on various sections of this book in the next few weeks. If anyone has read it and would like to comment or make other suggestions, please let me know!
The book draws on various sociological studies regarding women, leadership, and the church but does so in a way that is very approachable and readable. I am in the midst of the section on leadership traps that women fall into. Don't let the title fool you. It is not simply about the things that women do that cause their leadership to go unrecognized, but also about the many traps that seem to be set up by our culture. Ways in which women, at times, can't win no matter which path they choose. The first chapter is called "Organizational Wives or New Paradigm Leaders?" It highlights the way that women often end up functioning like psuedo-wives in a various professional and ministry situations. Women have often been shaped from an early age to multi-task and to attend to the needs of a group. They tend to be peacemakers and calendar keepers. While this leads to strong administrative gifts, these gifts are often used in a marginal way. Women are seen to attend to detail but lack the ability to think in broader categories. In addition, in family system theory thinking, women often end up attending to the emotional needs of the group. While this is valued as bringing unity to an organization, it is not considered leadership.
I have been in several positions that have had "organizational wife" aspects too them... a minister of Christian Education on a large staff and the dean of students at the seminary. I realize that it is not simply the positions, but also the way that I function within them. And it is something that I need to change. As the "organizational wife" in various organizations, I often bear much of the tension within a community and internalize it to a greater degree than is necessary. I also find that I end up doing more day to day administrative tasks than most of my male colleagues. Partly this is a function of where I am on the administrative ladder in a system. The farther down the less administrative support you receive. In my positions as dean of students I went from stuffing mailboxes to operating with several office staff. I had to learn to let go and be all right with asking for administrative support from another person. When your identity is located in knowing all the details within the family, this can be difficult to let go of. Some of you probably know exactly what I am talking about!
I'll try to post more on various sections of this book in the next few weeks. If anyone has read it and would like to comment or make other suggestions, please let me know!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
My last class.... ever
Well, I suppose there is a slight possibility of post-doctoral classes or another PhD, but I seriously doubt it. Which means that last night I finished the last assignment I will ever do for a class. Crazy! I know many of you would be jumping for joy, but I am a little sad. I really enjoy learning in the classroom environment. I love the discussion. I love learning from a professor. I love being asked to read things I might never have considered and how it always leads me down paths I never expected. I will miss learning in community in a formal way. I realize that academia has a way of preserving this sense of a learning community for most of us, but it will be different and I am sad to see this phase of my life over.
I was looking for something to post from one of my last papers. Believe it or not I wrote over 80 pages in the last two weeks. Topics included: the relationship between a Buddhist temple and secularization, civic engagement in the early Mission Friends, an analysis of Ed Lehman's study on women clergy entitled Gender and Work, and a dialog between several contemporary theologians and the Covenant Affirmations. If you are interested in any of those topics, I'd be happy to send a few things along! Otherwise, my ramblings were far to lengthy for a blog.
I will provide some book recommendations though:
Letty Russell's The Church in the Round is a great introduction to feminist ecclesiology. Russell uses the image of the table (a round table, a kitchen table, and a welcoming table) as her primary metaphor for the church. Her work is very approachable and asks very practical questions I think it would provide some great metaphors to guide a discussion within a congregation about what it means to be church.
Mark Chaves has published an extensive sociological study of Christian churches entitled Congregations in America. His main question is "What do congregations really do?" Not who do they say they are or who do they want to be, but how do they actually spend their time. His conclusions are challenging. He argues that congregations are primarily about the expression and transmission of religious meaning. This means that while social justice issues are important, they are secondary. Pastors and congregations spend most of their time involved in worship and formation with the arts as a significant part of the life of the church.
Finally, I'll recommend Mark Juergensmeyer's Terror in the Mind of God: The Global Rise of Religious Violence. This book looks in detail several religious groups who have been involved in terrorist acts in the last decade ands asks why. In reading this book, some may conclude that all religion is violent. Juergensmeyer doesn't leave anyone out. But it is important to remember that the author was not asking if religion was violent, but rather when a religious group engages in violence, why do they do it? What motivates them?
Merry Christmas!
I was looking for something to post from one of my last papers. Believe it or not I wrote over 80 pages in the last two weeks. Topics included: the relationship between a Buddhist temple and secularization, civic engagement in the early Mission Friends, an analysis of Ed Lehman's study on women clergy entitled Gender and Work, and a dialog between several contemporary theologians and the Covenant Affirmations. If you are interested in any of those topics, I'd be happy to send a few things along! Otherwise, my ramblings were far to lengthy for a blog.
I will provide some book recommendations though:
Letty Russell's The Church in the Round is a great introduction to feminist ecclesiology. Russell uses the image of the table (a round table, a kitchen table, and a welcoming table) as her primary metaphor for the church. Her work is very approachable and asks very practical questions I think it would provide some great metaphors to guide a discussion within a congregation about what it means to be church.
Mark Chaves has published an extensive sociological study of Christian churches entitled Congregations in America. His main question is "What do congregations really do?" Not who do they say they are or who do they want to be, but how do they actually spend their time. His conclusions are challenging. He argues that congregations are primarily about the expression and transmission of religious meaning. This means that while social justice issues are important, they are secondary. Pastors and congregations spend most of their time involved in worship and formation with the arts as a significant part of the life of the church.
Finally, I'll recommend Mark Juergensmeyer's Terror in the Mind of God: The Global Rise of Religious Violence. This book looks in detail several religious groups who have been involved in terrorist acts in the last decade ands asks why. In reading this book, some may conclude that all religion is violent. Juergensmeyer doesn't leave anyone out. But it is important to remember that the author was not asking if religion was violent, but rather when a religious group engages in violence, why do they do it? What motivates them?
Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Christmas Letter 2007
God’s voice thunders wondrously!
God does great things that we cannot comprehend.
For to the snow God says, “Fall on the earth”
And the shower of rain, God’s heavy shower of rain,
Serves as a sign on everyone’s hand, so that all whom God has made may know it.
Job 37:5-7
Merry Christmas! I doubt there was snow present on that first Christmas morning, yet God’s voice thundered wondrously even in the wail of a newborn child and in that moment we were shown how great our God’s love is for each one of us, those whom God has made.
If you have been reading my blog regularly, much of the information in this letter will not be new to you... but I thought I would post it anyway. Some of the information regarding my nieces has been edited out for their protection. If you are a friend and want more details, please e-mail me. And now, on to the Christmas Letter of 2007...
If you have not heard, in July of I quit my job as dean of students at North Park Theological Seminary and went back to school full-time… again. The seminary was very gracious in my send-off, presenting me with a brick in the pathway in front of the school honoring my years of service. This fall I am completing my last semester of classes in the Ph.D. program at Garrett Evangelical Theological School. This spring I will be studying for exams and, if God provides, next year I’ll be writing my dissertation. My research will focus on women, race, and pastoral leadership. Following that… God only knows, but hopefully it will involve teaching at a seminary.
In April I celebrated my 40th birthday with friends and family… all of my family! My parents stopped by to pick up Sandy and her family (Josh, Amber and new baby Sienna) and drove up to my house. My brother and his family (Jim, Nicole, Brenna, and Jordan) surprised us all by flying in from the West Coast! I feel blessed to have had lots of time with family this year. Sandy's to meet Sienna soon after she was born. A summer vacation on the beach in San Diego with Sandy, Jim and their families. Thanksgiving with parents and Jim’s family. I will return to my sister's in a few weeks for Christmas with the Cherry’s and to celebrate birthdays (Amber: 4 years, Sienna: 1 year).
It seems that I spent most of the last two years traveling. In April 2006, I made a spur of the moment decision with my friends, Cathy and Jim Stanley-Erickson, and a few weeks later we were in Guatemala. Highlights of the trip? A walk through the mountains outside Santa Apolonia with Julio who shared his role in defending the village against government death squads in the 1990’s. A private boat tour of the villages surrounding Lake Atitlan. And a pre-dawn hike into Tikal, the Mayan ruins in the jungle’s of northern Guatemala.
In March 2007 I co-taught a class on Church Leadership in the United States and Sweden which involved a trip to Stockholm as part of a student exchange. Afterwards I spent a few days sightseeing with a friend in Stockholm and Copenhagen. The two cities were so different! One neat, orderly, and polite. The other more rough and tumble, but full of life. Both beautiful! Then in May, I made my way to Northern Minnesota with the Wilderness and Faith Class at North Park. The class focuses on ecology and the Christian response to creation and involves a few days at a cabin on the shores of Lake Michigan then a five day canoe ride into the Boundary Waters. I have missed Minnesota and being so close to nature. The trip reminded me of the love nature instilled in me by both my parents.
Finally, in October of this year Cathy, Jim and I embarked on one more adventure… Peru. The jagged peaks of the Andes. The jungle-covered hills surrounding Machu Picchu. The Colonial city of Cusco. A bus ride through Mayan villages and a boat ride to the floating islands in Lake Titicaca. It was definitely an adventure! If you want to hear more about my trips, there are stories and pictures posted on my blog, www.marginal-thoughts.blogspot.com. And a link to my flickr sight (auntjojo).
May you hear the voice of God thundering wonderously during this Christmas season and throughout the New Year!
Sunday, December 02, 2007
What Are We Waiting For?
This morning in church we celebrated the first Sunday of Advent. The sermon was on waiting, a topic which I am intimately familiar with. It led me to ask the question, "What are we waiting for?"
In the theology class that I assist with we are in the midst of studying eschatology. Eschatology is the study of the "last things." It has to do with our concept of where the world is headed and where we are headed, both in this life and beyond. Hans Schwarz, our primary text on this topic, reminds us that many other religions see life in a cyclical nature, a never-ending process of birth, death, and rebirth. Christianity on the other hand sees life headed towards a goal, towards the fulfillment of God's purposes and God's promises for this world. We may only have a dim picture of what the end looks like, but we trust that God knows where we are going. And, as Christians, we believe that those purposes and promises are intimately connected with Jesus Christ.
I ask the question "What are we waiting for?" because much of Schwarz's discussion of eschatology focuses on just that... hopes and expectations. Schwarz reminds us that before the time of Christ, the Jewish people had hope, though much of their hope was based in the past. God had acted on behalf of the Jewish people. God had rescued them out of Egypt and shown God's face to them. God loved them and covenanted with them to love and guide them. Some of them awaited a messiah, an anointed one, a king who would once again lead the Jewish people, but none of them awaited a baby. There was no season of advent before the coming of Christ. Yes, there were some who were awaiting his birth. Mary and Elizabeth along with their families knew that something was coming. It is suggested that the three wise men began their journey to Bethlehem long before Christ's birth. There must have been others who had seen the signs. Yet they did not know quite what to expect.
Our Advent season is a bit different than those first days of awaiting Christ's birth. Our waiting is a season of reflection, a reminder to slow down and focus on this tremendous act, the incarnation of God in human form on this earth in a manger in Bethlehem. We know what we are waiting for, because it has already occurred. Yet, in many ways our hope is also similar to that first advent season. Our hope is now grounded in the person and work of Christ as well as in all the mighty acts of God of behalf of God's people before and after that event. Christ's life, death, and resurrection make God's purposes a bit clearer, God's promises a bit more tangible. And we know of a new promise, the second coming of Christ, an event that we again wait for. It is this second coming that reminds me of the first advent. Some see the signs clearer. Others have a vague sense, but trust in the graciousness of God. Others don't have a clue that there is something to wait for. But on the day that it occurs, it will be clear.... At least to some. For the coming of Christ as the Messiah was not immediately known or recognized by all... not even all who would eventually be called the first Christians.
May God give us hearts to hope... to wait expectantly... a waiting grounded in what we have already seen and heard. And may we not move too quickly to claiming that we have already seen the truth or heard the answer. This is a time of waiting, a time of listening, a time of allowing God to speak to us in new and miraculous ways.
In the theology class that I assist with we are in the midst of studying eschatology. Eschatology is the study of the "last things." It has to do with our concept of where the world is headed and where we are headed, both in this life and beyond. Hans Schwarz, our primary text on this topic, reminds us that many other religions see life in a cyclical nature, a never-ending process of birth, death, and rebirth. Christianity on the other hand sees life headed towards a goal, towards the fulfillment of God's purposes and God's promises for this world. We may only have a dim picture of what the end looks like, but we trust that God knows where we are going. And, as Christians, we believe that those purposes and promises are intimately connected with Jesus Christ.
I ask the question "What are we waiting for?" because much of Schwarz's discussion of eschatology focuses on just that... hopes and expectations. Schwarz reminds us that before the time of Christ, the Jewish people had hope, though much of their hope was based in the past. God had acted on behalf of the Jewish people. God had rescued them out of Egypt and shown God's face to them. God loved them and covenanted with them to love and guide them. Some of them awaited a messiah, an anointed one, a king who would once again lead the Jewish people, but none of them awaited a baby. There was no season of advent before the coming of Christ. Yes, there were some who were awaiting his birth. Mary and Elizabeth along with their families knew that something was coming. It is suggested that the three wise men began their journey to Bethlehem long before Christ's birth. There must have been others who had seen the signs. Yet they did not know quite what to expect.
Our Advent season is a bit different than those first days of awaiting Christ's birth. Our waiting is a season of reflection, a reminder to slow down and focus on this tremendous act, the incarnation of God in human form on this earth in a manger in Bethlehem. We know what we are waiting for, because it has already occurred. Yet, in many ways our hope is also similar to that first advent season. Our hope is now grounded in the person and work of Christ as well as in all the mighty acts of God of behalf of God's people before and after that event. Christ's life, death, and resurrection make God's purposes a bit clearer, God's promises a bit more tangible. And we know of a new promise, the second coming of Christ, an event that we again wait for. It is this second coming that reminds me of the first advent. Some see the signs clearer. Others have a vague sense, but trust in the graciousness of God. Others don't have a clue that there is something to wait for. But on the day that it occurs, it will be clear.... At least to some. For the coming of Christ as the Messiah was not immediately known or recognized by all... not even all who would eventually be called the first Christians.
May God give us hearts to hope... to wait expectantly... a waiting grounded in what we have already seen and heard. And may we not move too quickly to claiming that we have already seen the truth or heard the answer. This is a time of waiting, a time of listening, a time of allowing God to speak to us in new and miraculous ways.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Searching for a Home in the Academy
This past weekend I was at the American Academy of Religion in San Diego. Initial observations? Picture a thousand theology professors all wandering around a convention center carrying little canvas tote bags. The same professors are almost giddy with joy as they wander through a huge exhibition hall full of books at discount prices. And then... ours of wandering from room to room listening to paper after paper on a wide variety of topics. Some are interesting, some inspiring, some incredibly boring! Given the location just north of the border with Mexico and recent political debates, many of the practical theology sessions focused on immigration. My favorite... a group called "Bible, Theology, and Postmodernity" with presentations ranging from theological reflections on Algerian migration to France, a personal reflection from someone who recently migrated to the United States to teach, and a reflection comparing Exodus to the Japanese internment. Most frustrating? A panel on Asian reflections on ecclesiology made up of five white men... and one Asian man. Most interesting? A debate between two womanist scholars on issues of power and pedagogy in the classroom. One argued that you must establish your authority in the classroom before you begin to share power. The other argued that you must create a classroom of equals... with all the chaos it entails, from the very beginning.
As usual, the conference leaves me feeling a bit unsettled. I don't know yet where I belong in this vast world of academia. Who is interested in the same topics as I am? Who is committed to the same values regarding gender and ethnicity? Who shares a commitment to the church and the scriptures? Where will I find a home? I want to argue both that an academic home is essential andjavascript:void(0)
Publish Post that I must hold it loosely. The academy is meant to be a community of those pursuing truth and wisdom... together. Yet, we must hold the idea of a home a loosely. Otherwise we determine who the community is ourselves and it often ends up looking a lot like we do. We end up with the like-minded, with a little chance of really being challenged or stretched. When we hold the idea of home loosely, perhaps God can form a family that is much wider, more dynamic than anything we could ever hope for or imagine.
As usual, the conference leaves me feeling a bit unsettled. I don't know yet where I belong in this vast world of academia. Who is interested in the same topics as I am? Who is committed to the same values regarding gender and ethnicity? Who shares a commitment to the church and the scriptures? Where will I find a home? I want to argue both that an academic home is essential andjavascript:void(0)
Publish Post that I must hold it loosely. The academy is meant to be a community of those pursuing truth and wisdom... together. Yet, we must hold the idea of a home a loosely. Otherwise we determine who the community is ourselves and it often ends up looking a lot like we do. We end up with the like-minded, with a little chance of really being challenged or stretched. When we hold the idea of home loosely, perhaps God can form a family that is much wider, more dynamic than anything we could ever hope for or imagine.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
"All" Inclusive???
So, as usual, Sundays leave me with a lot to think about.
Last week it was All Saint's Day. And as has been the pattern for the last few years at our church there was also an infant baptism. It is always a challenge for me to feel a part of the church on these days that emphasize family. Generally central to those feelings are my own sorrow at not having a nuclear family of my own... since this generally seems to be the family that is being talked about at church. Infant baptisms raise grief for all sorts of people, including those of us who are facing the reality of never giving birth for a variety of reasons. But tie that to All Saint's Day... and some feel caught in a crunch between life and death. I celebrate being a part of the communion of saints. I try to remember that this day is about my being welcomed into that communion, a remembrance of my own baptism and coming to faith. I rejoice that many of my family members are part of the communion of saints. Yet, I also know that as someone not born into the faith, I will always mourn those who are not part of the body, those who do not believe, could not believe, never had a chance to believe.
Today, during the service, the word "all" was used many times. It is meant to be inclusive. It is meant to indicate that we "all" share similar experiences in life, that we are all a part of a fellowship of believers. But as one who has always been a bit of a contrarian in life, "all" has more often than not only highlighted my feelings of exclusion and alienation. All to often the experiences that we "all" have shared are not experiences that I have been a part of.
I have thought back to my own usage of the word "all" in sermons and lectures. I realize that I have become much more careful about assuming that everyone in a room has shared the same experiences. At North Park Seminary, it was important to remind myself that not everyone was a part of the same denomination. We did not necessarily have a shared experience of the Covenant Church. How important this was did not hit me until I ended up at a primarily Methodist seminary where I have been reminded over and over again that I am in the minority.
This use of "all" exclusive is rarely meant to cause harm. It is a part of desire we "all" have to connect with those around us, to be reconciled with one another, to emphasize how we are similar, how we are one in Christ. Yet too often the "all" excludes by not recognizing the diversity within our unity. The "all" can cause us to oversimplify our faith and our experience of the kingdom of God.
This is where my own "all" bias comes in. I am a person who is seeking to know a more complex God. It is comforting for me to know that God is beyond all we can think or know. It makes me feel included when we break down the universal nature of "all" and consider the wonderfully complex diversity of our community. For many, this complexity makes God seem out of reach. It brings instability to an already destabilized world. So perhaps I need to make room for those who need "all" inclusive, who need to emphasize our similarities rather than our differences... Perhaps...
As we use the word "all" in an effort to include everyone, though, I would ask you to consider who is not a part of "all." For someone is always on the outside. And sometimes the outside is where Christ is dwelling. And sometimes the outside is exactly where we are called to bring Christ... to welcome "all" into our family of faith.
Last week it was All Saint's Day. And as has been the pattern for the last few years at our church there was also an infant baptism. It is always a challenge for me to feel a part of the church on these days that emphasize family. Generally central to those feelings are my own sorrow at not having a nuclear family of my own... since this generally seems to be the family that is being talked about at church. Infant baptisms raise grief for all sorts of people, including those of us who are facing the reality of never giving birth for a variety of reasons. But tie that to All Saint's Day... and some feel caught in a crunch between life and death. I celebrate being a part of the communion of saints. I try to remember that this day is about my being welcomed into that communion, a remembrance of my own baptism and coming to faith. I rejoice that many of my family members are part of the communion of saints. Yet, I also know that as someone not born into the faith, I will always mourn those who are not part of the body, those who do not believe, could not believe, never had a chance to believe.
Today, during the service, the word "all" was used many times. It is meant to be inclusive. It is meant to indicate that we "all" share similar experiences in life, that we are all a part of a fellowship of believers. But as one who has always been a bit of a contrarian in life, "all" has more often than not only highlighted my feelings of exclusion and alienation. All to often the experiences that we "all" have shared are not experiences that I have been a part of.
I have thought back to my own usage of the word "all" in sermons and lectures. I realize that I have become much more careful about assuming that everyone in a room has shared the same experiences. At North Park Seminary, it was important to remind myself that not everyone was a part of the same denomination. We did not necessarily have a shared experience of the Covenant Church. How important this was did not hit me until I ended up at a primarily Methodist seminary where I have been reminded over and over again that I am in the minority.
This use of "all" exclusive is rarely meant to cause harm. It is a part of desire we "all" have to connect with those around us, to be reconciled with one another, to emphasize how we are similar, how we are one in Christ. Yet too often the "all" excludes by not recognizing the diversity within our unity. The "all" can cause us to oversimplify our faith and our experience of the kingdom of God.
This is where my own "all" bias comes in. I am a person who is seeking to know a more complex God. It is comforting for me to know that God is beyond all we can think or know. It makes me feel included when we break down the universal nature of "all" and consider the wonderfully complex diversity of our community. For many, this complexity makes God seem out of reach. It brings instability to an already destabilized world. So perhaps I need to make room for those who need "all" inclusive, who need to emphasize our similarities rather than our differences... Perhaps...
As we use the word "all" in an effort to include everyone, though, I would ask you to consider who is not a part of "all." For someone is always on the outside. And sometimes the outside is where Christ is dwelling. And sometimes the outside is exactly where we are called to bring Christ... to welcome "all" into our family of faith.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Long Journey Home...
On Monday morning, we woke up early to confirm all the details for our long journey home. The tourist office in Puno was very helpful! We confirmed flights, found shuttles, and got some directions for around town. We found out on our first day in Peru that the one agency we used to book a few flights and bus rides was not always that accurate (Go2Peru.com). We arrived at the airport two hours before our first flight only to find out that it didn't exist and the next flight was not for five more hours! Luckily the AeroCondor people were incredibly helpful and switched us to another airline... we ran through the airport to catch our flight, setting off metal detectors, paying airport taxes, and scrambling across the tarmac. This time we found out that our flight was two hours later than expected! So, we had a few extra hours in Puno to look around.
We were blessed with incredibly beautiful weather... perfect for photography. The clouds were amazing and left Cathy and I gazing up and tripping over our feet much of the time.
Both Cathy and I have dozens of pictures of this cathedral on the central plaza (Plaza de Armas). It had incredibly intricate baroque detail on the outside. Within was quite sparse. Several caretakers were sweeping the wooden floors and moving pews following Sundays services.
Cathy, of course, also made friends with everyone in the square and outside the cathedral.
From the cathedral, we made our way to an internet cafe, grabbed some yogurt for lunch, stopped in another plaza to eat, and then headed for the Artisan's market near the lake.
After finding a few last minute gifts, we headed out to the pier for a last look at the lake.
Our journey home was interesting... to say the least. We made our way by shuttle to Juliaca, a much more industrial city about 45 minutes from Puno, to the international airport. Along the way we befriended Tom, a young man from Canada is was cutting his two month journey about a month short due to illness. His girlfriend had already flown home after the first week in Peru. This was not a good omen... as the bus wound its way up the mountainside out of Puno, my altitude sickness changed into something entirely different. Some 24-hour flu was apparently going through the tourists in Puno and hit me just as we began this journey. Luckily I did make it to bathrooms when needed and was able to sleep for most of the flights.
Of course, when we arrived in Lima our flight to the states was delayed for two hours. Our 11:30 pm red-eye became an early morning flight. I believe Jim was the one detained by security on this leg of the flight. I just had to pay a small fee since I had neglected to save the small piece of paper that I received in customs on the way into the country. We did board the plane in plenty of time... plenty of time for an emergency medical landing in Ecuador. Just an hour or so outside of Lima a woman began having heart palpitations and panic attacks. She was forced to leave the plane in Ecuador. Since we landed heavy with most of our fuel, we our plane had to be inspected before we could take off again. An hour and a half later, we were finally in the air to Houston.
By this time, Cathy was beginning to feel sick. Luckily she would have a few seats to lie down on for the flight to Chicago. Before that flight, though, we had to make our way through customs again and this time I was pulled aside to have my bags checked. I had bought a bag of quinua at a market in Aguas Calientes. Quinua is apparently a legume and some type of superfood that is incredibly healthy, but difficult to get through customs. The TSA people were going to sift through it all (it looks like rice) to make sure that there were no seeds or bugs. Unfortunately our next flight (we had already been rebooked twice due to delays) was about to take off... so, leaving my quinua behind we made our way to our final uneventful flight to Chicago.
It has been difficult being home... so much to transition back into. It is very hard to focus. Plus, there is so much to process from the trip and so little time to do so. I would prefer vacations that were less of a whirlwind, that involved some type of educational component, that were a bit more grounded in the reality of the place where I am visiting. I have come to the conclusion, though, that if I were to wait for the perfect travel experience I would never end up going anywhere. A whirlwind week in Peru is better than never experiencing that beautiful and at all.
I believe that living globally is important for me... I will never be able to live as a global Christian with a theology that truly reflects global Christianity (even if it is just a dim reflection) without experiencing other cultures and other parts of the world. Granted, you don't need to travel around the world for such experiences. And there is always the inherent danger of traveling as a consumer rather than one who is there to learn and experience. Experience itself can become a commodity for consumption rather than an opening up of oneself for change. Yet, as a tactile learner, I find that traveling like this leaves an indelible mark on me. Somehow geography becomes real and tangible... not just geographic placement on a map, but the relationship of one country to another, the geographic history of time and place, the topography and how that impacts economies and cultures. All of that becomes more real and lives more deeply within me through these experiences. For me, these travels are a tremendous gift, both expanding my understanding of the world and recognizing the limits of my own place within it.
We were blessed with incredibly beautiful weather... perfect for photography. The clouds were amazing and left Cathy and I gazing up and tripping over our feet much of the time.
Both Cathy and I have dozens of pictures of this cathedral on the central plaza (Plaza de Armas). It had incredibly intricate baroque detail on the outside. Within was quite sparse. Several caretakers were sweeping the wooden floors and moving pews following Sundays services.
Cathy, of course, also made friends with everyone in the square and outside the cathedral.
From the cathedral, we made our way to an internet cafe, grabbed some yogurt for lunch, stopped in another plaza to eat, and then headed for the Artisan's market near the lake.
After finding a few last minute gifts, we headed out to the pier for a last look at the lake.
Our journey home was interesting... to say the least. We made our way by shuttle to Juliaca, a much more industrial city about 45 minutes from Puno, to the international airport. Along the way we befriended Tom, a young man from Canada is was cutting his two month journey about a month short due to illness. His girlfriend had already flown home after the first week in Peru. This was not a good omen... as the bus wound its way up the mountainside out of Puno, my altitude sickness changed into something entirely different. Some 24-hour flu was apparently going through the tourists in Puno and hit me just as we began this journey. Luckily I did make it to bathrooms when needed and was able to sleep for most of the flights.
Of course, when we arrived in Lima our flight to the states was delayed for two hours. Our 11:30 pm red-eye became an early morning flight. I believe Jim was the one detained by security on this leg of the flight. I just had to pay a small fee since I had neglected to save the small piece of paper that I received in customs on the way into the country. We did board the plane in plenty of time... plenty of time for an emergency medical landing in Ecuador. Just an hour or so outside of Lima a woman began having heart palpitations and panic attacks. She was forced to leave the plane in Ecuador. Since we landed heavy with most of our fuel, we our plane had to be inspected before we could take off again. An hour and a half later, we were finally in the air to Houston.
By this time, Cathy was beginning to feel sick. Luckily she would have a few seats to lie down on for the flight to Chicago. Before that flight, though, we had to make our way through customs again and this time I was pulled aside to have my bags checked. I had bought a bag of quinua at a market in Aguas Calientes. Quinua is apparently a legume and some type of superfood that is incredibly healthy, but difficult to get through customs. The TSA people were going to sift through it all (it looks like rice) to make sure that there were no seeds or bugs. Unfortunately our next flight (we had already been rebooked twice due to delays) was about to take off... so, leaving my quinua behind we made our way to our final uneventful flight to Chicago.
It has been difficult being home... so much to transition back into. It is very hard to focus. Plus, there is so much to process from the trip and so little time to do so. I would prefer vacations that were less of a whirlwind, that involved some type of educational component, that were a bit more grounded in the reality of the place where I am visiting. I have come to the conclusion, though, that if I were to wait for the perfect travel experience I would never end up going anywhere. A whirlwind week in Peru is better than never experiencing that beautiful and at all.
I believe that living globally is important for me... I will never be able to live as a global Christian with a theology that truly reflects global Christianity (even if it is just a dim reflection) without experiencing other cultures and other parts of the world. Granted, you don't need to travel around the world for such experiences. And there is always the inherent danger of traveling as a consumer rather than one who is there to learn and experience. Experience itself can become a commodity for consumption rather than an opening up of oneself for change. Yet, as a tactile learner, I find that traveling like this leaves an indelible mark on me. Somehow geography becomes real and tangible... not just geographic placement on a map, but the relationship of one country to another, the geographic history of time and place, the topography and how that impacts economies and cultures. All of that becomes more real and lives more deeply within me through these experiences. For me, these travels are a tremendous gift, both expanding my understanding of the world and recognizing the limits of my own place within it.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Lake Titicaca
The name sounds better if you pronounce it like the locals... think Hebrew with the "c" in the back of the throat.
We arrived in Puno and headed to our hostel, El Manzano (The Apple). It was a true hostel, versus the small hotels we were staying in before. Small rooms surrounding an open courtyard with an apple tree. The bathroom was down the hall with limited hot water... turns out a bit more limited than we expected which would have been all right had the weather been a bit warmer. Did I mention that I wore most of my clothes everyday during the trip? Sweaters, sweatshirts, jackets, t-shirts... layers and layers. Long underwear to bed under flannel pajamas. Few of the rooms had heat and the ice cold shower did not help at all!
But I digress... we headed to the main square for dinner and a little blogging then an early night. We had another early morning ahead of us. A boat ride on the Lake Titicaca... the sacred lake of the Inkas and the highest navigatable lake in the world. The boat made its way out into the reeds that filled one portion of the lake. Slowly we made our way down an open channel until we came upon a lagoon surrounded by a small village of floating islands.
The Uros Islands are literally built upon the reeds in the middle of the lake. Layer upon layer of reeds laying a foundation for a village of reed huts and watch towers.
The islands originally served as a hideout from the Inkan forces that were conquering the area surrounding the lake. Our guide was intentional about reminded us that the Inkans were not the only people or even the first people to inhabit Peru. There were others before them and those on the Uros Islands are remnants of these people.
We stepped off the boat onto the spongy surface of the island. The women were in beautifully colorful outfits and welcomed us with open arms.
We received a short lecture on the history of the island. During the presentation, one of the women came over and sat next to me and began sewing a beautiful tapestry. She was so incredibly friendly. Where do they get that? The ability to reach out over and over again to us tourists who make our way into their homes to gawk, take pictures, buy trinkets, and consume their lives? Where do they get that? But they did... they opened their hearts and their homes. They were beautiful in that way. A hospitality that I have never possessed. I realize it is not as simple as that. We provide money for their economy... they gain as well as give. Yet still... I can learn from them.
From this first island, we boarded a reed boat to sail across the lagoon to one more small village.
A group of women and girls sang to us as we left the island. I realize it was a complete tourist fabrication, but it seemed magical nonetheless and sometimes I think allowing yourself live in the magical moment is not such a bad thing.
From there we sailed out for another 90 minutes to Taquile Island. I didn't see much of the island. The altitude sickness nearly took me out as we climbed the steep rocky path to the plaza at the top of the island. But the views were incredible.
Beautiful archways marked the entrances to the plaza and the city. Some were topped with crosses. Others with various local symbols.
There was a small church. A cultural center with a photographic exhibit. An artisan's market. You'll have to check out Cathy's blog for more about all of that. I simply sat on the stone wall at the edge of the plaza, gazing out at the lake or watching the people in the square.
A lunch of typical Peruvian food at a small restaurant. And, of course, the hike back down the hill. I had a nice long talk with Alan, our tour guide. Cathy befriended a few more of the locals... and took lots of pictures. We climbed back on the boat for a long ride home. Tomorrow we would have a few hours to explore the city and then begin the long adventure home. And what an adventure it was!
We arrived in Puno and headed to our hostel, El Manzano (The Apple). It was a true hostel, versus the small hotels we were staying in before. Small rooms surrounding an open courtyard with an apple tree. The bathroom was down the hall with limited hot water... turns out a bit more limited than we expected which would have been all right had the weather been a bit warmer. Did I mention that I wore most of my clothes everyday during the trip? Sweaters, sweatshirts, jackets, t-shirts... layers and layers. Long underwear to bed under flannel pajamas. Few of the rooms had heat and the ice cold shower did not help at all!
But I digress... we headed to the main square for dinner and a little blogging then an early night. We had another early morning ahead of us. A boat ride on the Lake Titicaca... the sacred lake of the Inkas and the highest navigatable lake in the world. The boat made its way out into the reeds that filled one portion of the lake. Slowly we made our way down an open channel until we came upon a lagoon surrounded by a small village of floating islands.
The Uros Islands are literally built upon the reeds in the middle of the lake. Layer upon layer of reeds laying a foundation for a village of reed huts and watch towers.
The islands originally served as a hideout from the Inkan forces that were conquering the area surrounding the lake. Our guide was intentional about reminded us that the Inkans were not the only people or even the first people to inhabit Peru. There were others before them and those on the Uros Islands are remnants of these people.
We stepped off the boat onto the spongy surface of the island. The women were in beautifully colorful outfits and welcomed us with open arms.
We received a short lecture on the history of the island. During the presentation, one of the women came over and sat next to me and began sewing a beautiful tapestry. She was so incredibly friendly. Where do they get that? The ability to reach out over and over again to us tourists who make our way into their homes to gawk, take pictures, buy trinkets, and consume their lives? Where do they get that? But they did... they opened their hearts and their homes. They were beautiful in that way. A hospitality that I have never possessed. I realize it is not as simple as that. We provide money for their economy... they gain as well as give. Yet still... I can learn from them.
From this first island, we boarded a reed boat to sail across the lagoon to one more small village.
A group of women and girls sang to us as we left the island. I realize it was a complete tourist fabrication, but it seemed magical nonetheless and sometimes I think allowing yourself live in the magical moment is not such a bad thing.
From there we sailed out for another 90 minutes to Taquile Island. I didn't see much of the island. The altitude sickness nearly took me out as we climbed the steep rocky path to the plaza at the top of the island. But the views were incredible.
Beautiful archways marked the entrances to the plaza and the city. Some were topped with crosses. Others with various local symbols.
There was a small church. A cultural center with a photographic exhibit. An artisan's market. You'll have to check out Cathy's blog for more about all of that. I simply sat on the stone wall at the edge of the plaza, gazing out at the lake or watching the people in the square.
A lunch of typical Peruvian food at a small restaurant. And, of course, the hike back down the hill. I had a nice long talk with Alan, our tour guide. Cathy befriended a few more of the locals... and took lots of pictures. We climbed back on the boat for a long ride home. Tomorrow we would have a few hours to explore the city and then begin the long adventure home. And what an adventure it was!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Inka Express
After hiking all morning in Machu Picchu, we returned to the little town of Aguas Calientes for some final picture taking, some shopping, and coffee before boarding the Backpacker train to Cusco. For a few brief moments we thought we would be joined by a very nice guy from Argentina named Jose, but just before leaving he was asked to change seats with a woman who wanted to be in the same car as her grown children. Cathy is convinced he is the one that got away for me and will be posting his picture on various travel sites in her tireless attempts to help me find the perfect guy.
We returned to Cusco for a brief night of sleep in our home away from home in Peru, the Hotel Belvidere (or the Quri Inn, depending on who you ask). The Hotel was in a nice little plaza with a pizza place playing Bossa Nova, an internet cafe, and a small market. We were up again early in the morning for our adventure on the Inka Express. Cathy shares the tale of our near mishap that morning in her blog.
The Inka Express took us on a 10 hour bus ride south through Peru to Lake Titicaca. The views were breathtaking and the stops fascinating... even if the tour guide was a little stingy with free time and a little overly generous with the information he had to share with us!
Our first stop was in Andahualilillas to see the "Sistine Chapel" of the Americas. The beautiful interior was in the midst of restoration.
I was more fascinated by the exterior. So different from the cathedral and large churches in Cusco. This church was in a little village in the midst of nowhere with incredible murals and a floor to ceiling altar covered in gold leaf. A much simpler exterior. The next church would strike me as even more amazing. Raqchi (also in the middle of nowhere) is a little town set next to the ruins of a huge ancient Inkan worship site.
This was the center wall of a huge temple several stories tall. The roof sloped down on either side and was supported by giant columns that no longer exist. It is said to be the site of Wiracocha's palace, the creator God of the Inkans. It may seem strange for three Covenant pastors to travel to the ancient temples of foreign gods. I was taught as a young Christian that there would be evil spirits in such a place that might possess you or lead you astray. Instead, these sites serve to open my eyes to the beauty of God's creation, especially in an through all of humanity, even if in veiled form. My faith and the one I have faith in are strong enough to learn from other religions without feeling threatened. In addition, though, there is a sense of loss at these sites, religions and cultures that disappeared... perhaps religions and cultures that might have brought new expressions of the Christian faith.
As mentioned above, adjacent to these huge stone walls was a small village and we were lucky enough to arrive just in time to witness one of the festivals taking place at the Catholic Church. The church itself was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen... I loved the natural stonework.
The festival itself was in celebration of the Virgin Mary. The priest led a procession around the town square, stopping at each corner for a blessing.
Yes, the priest was American... from Boston. He has been serving in Peru for most of his life. I had mixed feelings watching all the people of the village following him around the square. I am amazed at his commitment and calling to this place. I wonder when someone from within the village itself might rise up to lead the people themselves.
The Peruvians were in beautiful, colorful costumes carrying elaborately decorated floats bearing the Virgin.
Given a choice, I would have stayed much longer. They had just processed the Virgin back into the church and now the young people were gathering to dance in the square. Alas, the pitfalls of being on a guided tour. Instead, we made our way up to the highest point of our trip, La Raya at 4313 meters above sea level.
The views along the way were spectacular. Ragged mountain peaks covered in snow. Sweeping plains filled with herds of llamas (YES! Llamas!) Small villages. Spectacular!
There were a few more stops... a lunch buffet in one town and an archeological museum in another... before we finally came upon the delta of Lake Titicaca and began our descent into the town of Puno. Past the giant statue of the puma on the mountainside , though the bustling city, into the bus station on the shores of the lake. That night would be spent in one of our more interesting accommodations, but that story will have to wait for another day.
What I loved about the tour... though I hate pulling up to a small town along with several other big tour buses to consume a village, we saw places we probably would have never seen on our own. I love being surprised by beauty. I still remember rounding a corner in Paris one night and coming upon the Hotel D'Ville all lit up. I remember finding St. Chapelle and climbing up into its amazing stained glass chapel. And I will probably always remember this part of the trip, especially Raqchi where we stumbled upon a community celebrating in worship to God, full of joy and exploding with color in the midst of a desert landscape. While the Holy Spirit is always with us, I love to think of the Spirit bursting into our lives in unexpected moments like this... full of joy and exploding with color. And I am challenged by the call to be those moments of joy and color for those who live continually in a desert landscape.
We returned to Cusco for a brief night of sleep in our home away from home in Peru, the Hotel Belvidere (or the Quri Inn, depending on who you ask). The Hotel was in a nice little plaza with a pizza place playing Bossa Nova, an internet cafe, and a small market. We were up again early in the morning for our adventure on the Inka Express. Cathy shares the tale of our near mishap that morning in her blog.
The Inka Express took us on a 10 hour bus ride south through Peru to Lake Titicaca. The views were breathtaking and the stops fascinating... even if the tour guide was a little stingy with free time and a little overly generous with the information he had to share with us!
Our first stop was in Andahualilillas to see the "Sistine Chapel" of the Americas. The beautiful interior was in the midst of restoration.
I was more fascinated by the exterior. So different from the cathedral and large churches in Cusco. This church was in a little village in the midst of nowhere with incredible murals and a floor to ceiling altar covered in gold leaf. A much simpler exterior. The next church would strike me as even more amazing. Raqchi (also in the middle of nowhere) is a little town set next to the ruins of a huge ancient Inkan worship site.
This was the center wall of a huge temple several stories tall. The roof sloped down on either side and was supported by giant columns that no longer exist. It is said to be the site of Wiracocha's palace, the creator God of the Inkans. It may seem strange for three Covenant pastors to travel to the ancient temples of foreign gods. I was taught as a young Christian that there would be evil spirits in such a place that might possess you or lead you astray. Instead, these sites serve to open my eyes to the beauty of God's creation, especially in an through all of humanity, even if in veiled form. My faith and the one I have faith in are strong enough to learn from other religions without feeling threatened. In addition, though, there is a sense of loss at these sites, religions and cultures that disappeared... perhaps religions and cultures that might have brought new expressions of the Christian faith.
As mentioned above, adjacent to these huge stone walls was a small village and we were lucky enough to arrive just in time to witness one of the festivals taking place at the Catholic Church. The church itself was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen... I loved the natural stonework.
The festival itself was in celebration of the Virgin Mary. The priest led a procession around the town square, stopping at each corner for a blessing.
Yes, the priest was American... from Boston. He has been serving in Peru for most of his life. I had mixed feelings watching all the people of the village following him around the square. I am amazed at his commitment and calling to this place. I wonder when someone from within the village itself might rise up to lead the people themselves.
The Peruvians were in beautiful, colorful costumes carrying elaborately decorated floats bearing the Virgin.
Given a choice, I would have stayed much longer. They had just processed the Virgin back into the church and now the young people were gathering to dance in the square. Alas, the pitfalls of being on a guided tour. Instead, we made our way up to the highest point of our trip, La Raya at 4313 meters above sea level.
The views along the way were spectacular. Ragged mountain peaks covered in snow. Sweeping plains filled with herds of llamas (YES! Llamas!) Small villages. Spectacular!
There were a few more stops... a lunch buffet in one town and an archeological museum in another... before we finally came upon the delta of Lake Titicaca and began our descent into the town of Puno. Past the giant statue of the puma on the mountainside , though the bustling city, into the bus station on the shores of the lake. That night would be spent in one of our more interesting accommodations, but that story will have to wait for another day.
What I loved about the tour... though I hate pulling up to a small town along with several other big tour buses to consume a village, we saw places we probably would have never seen on our own. I love being surprised by beauty. I still remember rounding a corner in Paris one night and coming upon the Hotel D'Ville all lit up. I remember finding St. Chapelle and climbing up into its amazing stained glass chapel. And I will probably always remember this part of the trip, especially Raqchi where we stumbled upon a community celebrating in worship to God, full of joy and exploding with color in the midst of a desert landscape. While the Holy Spirit is always with us, I love to think of the Spirit bursting into our lives in unexpected moments like this... full of joy and exploding with color. And I am challenged by the call to be those moments of joy and color for those who live continually in a desert landscape.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Climbing Wayna Picchu...
We are sitting in a dark little internet place (I don´t think I would call it a cafe...) catching up a bit before we take the shuttle to Juliaca and begin our long journey home. It has been an amazing adventure... though, and I will share this now that the trip is almost over, I have struggled with altitude sickness for most of the trip. Just headaches and nauseau, but enough to keep meet at a much slower pace than I would like! Believe it or not, Machu Picchu was the best portion of the trip being a bit lower in the Andes. It is set in the midst of mountainous jungle and we, being slightly crazy, decided to hike up to one of the high peaks overlooking the ruins. What is nice about being slightly crazy is the fact that you meet other slightly crazy people to bond with along the way... a young woman from Iceland and her family who sang songs at the top of the mountain. A couple that were engaged in one of the buildings at the top. The all-American snack team... a father and three grown sons who pulled out pringles, m&m´s, a jar of jelly and wheat bread, twizzlers, and just about any other type of junk food you could find... all carried to the top of the mountain. And two young Australian guys who literally ran to the top and back... sweating beer, they later told us. We would run into these people and others throughout the trip. Cathy and Jim are great at making friends with just about anyone!
Below are a few pictures from the hike to give you an idea of just how crazy we were!
Did I mention we had to get in line at 5:15 am to catch the first buses up the mountain.
View of Machu Picchu. The mountain in the background is Wayna Picchu, the destination of our hike.
View of the mountains in the morning.
Some of the thousands of stairs we climbed to reach the peak. It was all stone stairways that wound up the side of the mountain.
The beautiful views along the way.
We made it to the top!
View of Machu Picchu.
The ruins at the top of Wayan Picchu.
Below are a few pictures from the hike to give you an idea of just how crazy we were!
Did I mention we had to get in line at 5:15 am to catch the first buses up the mountain.
View of Machu Picchu. The mountain in the background is Wayna Picchu, the destination of our hike.
View of the mountains in the morning.
Some of the thousands of stairs we climbed to reach the peak. It was all stone stairways that wound up the side of the mountain.
The beautiful views along the way.
We made it to the top!
View of Machu Picchu.
The ruins at the top of Wayan Picchu.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Machu Picchu
I wish I had a bit more time to reflect in my blog on this trip, but that will have to come later. Internet access has been limited by slow computers and long days of travel and sightseeing.
We arrived in Aguas Calientes (now Machu Picchu Pueblo) on Thursday, a town nestled in a little valley up and down a river just outside of and several steep switchbacks down from the ruins of Machu Picchu. After dropping our bags, we headed out to the ruins at about 11:00 am.
As the bus climbed up the mountainside I was struck again by how crazy this all is.
I never would have dreamt that the little girl I was would be the woman who has been trekking around Peru this fall.
It still doesnt seem real to me. As you near the sight, suddenly, sitting on the side of the mountain you see terraces with rock walls and then the walls of several small buildings clustered together.
You catch glimpses of this over and over, building your anticipation until you finally pull into the parking lot. Then, through the gates, and a hike up to the funerary hut that provides a panoramic view of the ruins laid out on the mesa before you.
A central plaza with a few llamas grazing.
A few small temples along the ridge. A quarry of stone.
And my favorite, the hitching post of the sun.
If ever you believed that colonists were civilizing the world... or that the world continues to evolve, a sight like Machu Picchu or Tikal (Mayan ruins in Northern Guatemala that we visited last year), a sight like this gives you pause.
Apparently there is a sundial set within the ruins that can point not just to north, but also to magnetic north. As much as the people of Peru might have learned from Spanish Colonists, that much knowledge was probably lost in the process as well.
Advanced civilizations have arisen throughout time. Most have fallen or disappeared in mysterious circumstances or in the midst of war. If ever we felt that we were indestructible as a nation, a sight like this gives you pause. They had conquered much of South America. Ruled a tremendous, wealthy empire. And with the might of foreign germs going before them, they fell to the Spanish Colonists. An entire civilization was "civilized".
There are signs of the culture hidden within the Catholic Cathedrals and in many of the festivals and rituals of the people. There is a desire to restore and recover what was lost. One can never go back and recreate from the old. One can only rebuild from what one has been given, seeking to reclaim what was lost and allow it to be more fully intergrated into what has become.
I guess I had a little time for reflection after all...
We arrived in Aguas Calientes (now Machu Picchu Pueblo) on Thursday, a town nestled in a little valley up and down a river just outside of and several steep switchbacks down from the ruins of Machu Picchu. After dropping our bags, we headed out to the ruins at about 11:00 am.
As the bus climbed up the mountainside I was struck again by how crazy this all is.
I never would have dreamt that the little girl I was would be the woman who has been trekking around Peru this fall.
It still doesnt seem real to me. As you near the sight, suddenly, sitting on the side of the mountain you see terraces with rock walls and then the walls of several small buildings clustered together.
You catch glimpses of this over and over, building your anticipation until you finally pull into the parking lot. Then, through the gates, and a hike up to the funerary hut that provides a panoramic view of the ruins laid out on the mesa before you. A central plaza with a few llamas grazing.
A few small temples along the ridge. A quarry of stone.
And my favorite, the hitching post of the sun.
If ever you believed that colonists were civilizing the world... or that the world continues to evolve, a sight like Machu Picchu or Tikal (Mayan ruins in Northern Guatemala that we visited last year), a sight like this gives you pause.
Apparently there is a sundial set within the ruins that can point not just to north, but also to magnetic north. As much as the people of Peru might have learned from Spanish Colonists, that much knowledge was probably lost in the process as well.
Advanced civilizations have arisen throughout time. Most have fallen or disappeared in mysterious circumstances or in the midst of war. If ever we felt that we were indestructible as a nation, a sight like this gives you pause. They had conquered much of South America. Ruled a tremendous, wealthy empire. And with the might of foreign germs going before them, they fell to the Spanish Colonists. An entire civilization was "civilized".
There are signs of the culture hidden within the Catholic Cathedrals and in many of the festivals and rituals of the people. There is a desire to restore and recover what was lost. One can never go back and recreate from the old. One can only rebuild from what one has been given, seeking to reclaim what was lost and allow it to be more fully intergrated into what has become.
I guess I had a little time for reflection after all...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A few pictures of Cusco...
The internet cafe across from our hostal is a bit slow uploading and it is getting late. We leave at 6:00 am on a train for Aguas Calientes and a day in Machu Picchu. But, here are a few photos of this amazing city.
We saw an archway over a street in the distance. Through the arch was this view. We never made it to these churches, but it gives you as sense of the city with the red clay tiled roofs climbing up into the hills surrounding the city.
The city was rebuilt by Spanish colonists right on top of the anciet Inkan city. Throughout the city you can see the stonework of the original Inkan foundations.
This morning we hiked up the hill to San Blas, the name of the church and the artisan´s district surrounding it. The church has an immense, intricately carved pulpit. Carved into the base are several ¨heretical¨ figures such as Martin Luther, Zwingli, and Henry VIII holding it up in great agony.
We have spent both afternoons and one evening in the central plaza, the Plaza de Armas. On one end is the great cathedral... this picture, though, it of the Compañia de Jesus. We were sitting on a tiny balcony in a coffee shop overlooking the plaza as the sun set over the square.
These next two pictures are of the main cathedral on the square. As you can tell from this photo, I spend a lot of our trip looking up. I love the intricate carvings at the tops of all the churches.
Fewer adventures today. I feel like we saw very little of the city, but our time here has come to a close. The next pictures should be of Machu Picchu.
We saw an archway over a street in the distance. Through the arch was this view. We never made it to these churches, but it gives you as sense of the city with the red clay tiled roofs climbing up into the hills surrounding the city.
The city was rebuilt by Spanish colonists right on top of the anciet Inkan city. Throughout the city you can see the stonework of the original Inkan foundations.
This morning we hiked up the hill to San Blas, the name of the church and the artisan´s district surrounding it. The church has an immense, intricately carved pulpit. Carved into the base are several ¨heretical¨ figures such as Martin Luther, Zwingli, and Henry VIII holding it up in great agony.
We have spent both afternoons and one evening in the central plaza, the Plaza de Armas. On one end is the great cathedral... this picture, though, it of the Compañia de Jesus. We were sitting on a tiny balcony in a coffee shop overlooking the plaza as the sun set over the square.
These next two pictures are of the main cathedral on the square. As you can tell from this photo, I spend a lot of our trip looking up. I love the intricate carvings at the tops of all the churches.
Fewer adventures today. I feel like we saw very little of the city, but our time here has come to a close. The next pictures should be of Machu Picchu.
Let the adventures begin...
Well... we are here! At 11,000 feet in Cusco, the ancient Inkan capital of Peru. So far we have met a Norwegian business man who works with oil rigs, a Peruvian industrial engineer who works for a sustainable development corporation, a couple from England who work for a non-profit organization, and a young Peruvian man who is starting his own hostel... our first stop in Peru. He has renovated an old building in the warehouse district adjacent to the Lima airport. His mother makes the breakfasts. His friend drives the cab that picks people up at the airport. He designed the logo.. a trekking Inkan. And made sure the rooms were fairly large and the beds very comfortable. It was a quick night. We were up early to catch a flight to Cuzco. Found out upon arriving that our flight didn´t exist. And after some polite persistent requests on our part were put on another flight that had us running through the Lima airport and out on the tarmac... the last ones on the plane. We arrived an hour and a half earlier than expected! Our taxi driver was great... he insisted that we change hostels. We were a little leery at first, but are happy with our choice. A little cheaper, but only a few blocks from the Plaza de Armas, the central square. I´ll try to post pictures later. Or you can click on the ¨Cathy´s Pressed¨link to the right for pictures and many more details. We have a full day wandering around Cusco today and then tomorrow we are off to Machu Picchu!
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
A Gendered Society
This past week I have been reading Julie Ingersoll’s Evangelical Christian Women: War Stories in the Gender Battles. The title betrays Ingersoll’s bias… one I probably share a bit more than I’d like to admit. I have my own war stories to tell. Much of the sociological information was familiar to me, but the analysis was interesting… and challenging. Ingersoll explores how gender is constructed in the evangelical world. Now before you start arguing about gender, creation, and biological differences between men and women, let me state that I agree that there are differences. I also believe that gender is more than our biological differences. It is also a social construction… the way we live out and interpret those differences. The values we place on them. How we structure economies and societies around them.
Ingersoll describes the gendered nature of the evangelical world… the segregated small groups, the men’s and women’s ministries, the gender-specific social events. She goes into great detail describing a Christian bookstore with its Victorian knick-knacks designed to harken back to an imaginary time when gender roles were so much clearer. With its “Jesus loves Me” plaques with sports figures for the boys and angels for the girls. The books for women that deal with relationships, healing the pasts, building friendships. The books for men that talk about leadership and servanthood. Ingersoll argues that within the evangelical culture, the gendered body has become something symbolic. And the pressure to conform to gender roles, both explicit and subtle, can been extremely powerful and at times extremely wounding.
How does this gendered-society impact women clergy? We can see from other studies (ie. Clergy Women by Zikmund. Lummis and Chang) the pressure clergy women are under to be good Christians by fulfilling traditional roles as a wife and mother as well as fulfilling their duties as a pastor. And that these expectations are significantly different than that of clergy men. We also see differences in how congregations expect women to lead and how they interpret the ways they leave. While a majority of male and female clergy feel that they are democratic rather than directive leaders, congregations feel that their male clergy are more directive and female clergy are more democratic.
I am raising questions that I don’t have answers to. One’s I’ll probably continue to explore in this blog in the next few months. But for now, that will have to wait. You can anticipate the next blogs to take a turn in another direction… reflections on my upcoming trip to Peru. Maybe when I return you’ll have some additional insights into all of this to help guide my way.
Ingersoll describes the gendered nature of the evangelical world… the segregated small groups, the men’s and women’s ministries, the gender-specific social events. She goes into great detail describing a Christian bookstore with its Victorian knick-knacks designed to harken back to an imaginary time when gender roles were so much clearer. With its “Jesus loves Me” plaques with sports figures for the boys and angels for the girls. The books for women that deal with relationships, healing the pasts, building friendships. The books for men that talk about leadership and servanthood. Ingersoll argues that within the evangelical culture, the gendered body has become something symbolic. And the pressure to conform to gender roles, both explicit and subtle, can been extremely powerful and at times extremely wounding.
How does this gendered-society impact women clergy? We can see from other studies (ie. Clergy Women by Zikmund. Lummis and Chang) the pressure clergy women are under to be good Christians by fulfilling traditional roles as a wife and mother as well as fulfilling their duties as a pastor. And that these expectations are significantly different than that of clergy men. We also see differences in how congregations expect women to lead and how they interpret the ways they leave. While a majority of male and female clergy feel that they are democratic rather than directive leaders, congregations feel that their male clergy are more directive and female clergy are more democratic.
I am raising questions that I don’t have answers to. One’s I’ll probably continue to explore in this blog in the next few months. But for now, that will have to wait. You can anticipate the next blogs to take a turn in another direction… reflections on my upcoming trip to Peru. Maybe when I return you’ll have some additional insights into all of this to help guide my way.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Sociologist of the Week...
The sociologist for this week is Max Weber. While Durkheim looked at a particular expression of religion in Australia, Weber tried to take in the entire scope of religious history and through his observations draw out themes. His main concern was to study how religion was a force for change in history. Somewhat more encouraging than Durkheim’s more static view of the world.
The more negative aspect of Weber’s work is his assumption that religion essentially developed out of magic. He believed that magicians essentially worked individually and they were at great risk of losing their clientele if they were not able to continue performing magical feats (magical in the sense of providing food or healing a sick child… not escaping from a block of ice hanging over Times Square or making the Statue of Liberty disappear). In order to protect their “interests” (key Weberian term), they had to come up with some other possible reasons why their magic might not work. One solution… create a god that had to be pleased for magic to work. If the magic didn’t work, perhaps the client had displeased the god. This creation of god (an abstraction) eventually developed into a whole system of beliefs. The magicians became priests of this new religion and dogma and beliefs were part of their way to stay in power.
So, I’ve significantly oversimplified Weber’s thesis… but he does highlight something very important to consider. How our own interests shape what we believe and how we act. Maybe more accurately, how our interpretations of the truth can be influenced by our own interests. Some might argue that white evangelicals, while very sincere in their beliefs, are blind to racism because it serves their best interests. This is not necessarily a conscious decision or an individual one. If it is in the best interest of those in power in a community to preserve certain beliefs, they have a way of influencing interpretations and translations. This is not necessarily always the case, but it is worth considering. What interests are served by a particular interpretation of scripture? How have your ethics or the way you live out your faith been affected by your interests? I know that I have made myself fairly comfortable in a middle class lifestyle in the United States. I don’t have a very radical ethic regarding wealth or poverty. Do these things not concern God? Is it possible that my own interests… and that of our capitalist economy… have had some impact on how I live out my faith in these areas?
Weber also felt that there were moments in life where revolution was possible. In those moments, he saw key ideas form in a society, key leaders arise and key events take place that somehow just fit together. He called it elective affinity. When these things came together, the sum was greater than any one of the parts and the world shifted a little on its axis. Weber’s key example was the Protestant Work Ethic and capitalism. Religion often played a key role in these momentous movements as did something Weber termed “charisma” or “the prophetic.” Interestingly, Weber is using these terms sociologically. Rather than linking them to faith, he links them to how they function in society.
I suppose I choose to believe something different. I believe that these moments when everything comes together are more than just matters of human interest or historical accidents. I think they are moments when God is at work in this world. Having said that, I need to consider if at times they are also caused when some other force was at work for not all these momentous changes have been for the good of humanity or this earth. Weber asked about the role of religion in these great movements of history. I would ask the same question, but from a slightly different perspective. Not simply how did they happen, but why did they take the direction they did? Why do some things that start out so beautiful turn out so destructive? Why do some small movements become great works of good in our world? Does our faith, individually and corporately, shape the world for good or evil? We all want to say for the good, but can we prove that? Would a sociologist observing us agree?
The more negative aspect of Weber’s work is his assumption that religion essentially developed out of magic. He believed that magicians essentially worked individually and they were at great risk of losing their clientele if they were not able to continue performing magical feats (magical in the sense of providing food or healing a sick child… not escaping from a block of ice hanging over Times Square or making the Statue of Liberty disappear). In order to protect their “interests” (key Weberian term), they had to come up with some other possible reasons why their magic might not work. One solution… create a god that had to be pleased for magic to work. If the magic didn’t work, perhaps the client had displeased the god. This creation of god (an abstraction) eventually developed into a whole system of beliefs. The magicians became priests of this new religion and dogma and beliefs were part of their way to stay in power.
So, I’ve significantly oversimplified Weber’s thesis… but he does highlight something very important to consider. How our own interests shape what we believe and how we act. Maybe more accurately, how our interpretations of the truth can be influenced by our own interests. Some might argue that white evangelicals, while very sincere in their beliefs, are blind to racism because it serves their best interests. This is not necessarily a conscious decision or an individual one. If it is in the best interest of those in power in a community to preserve certain beliefs, they have a way of influencing interpretations and translations. This is not necessarily always the case, but it is worth considering. What interests are served by a particular interpretation of scripture? How have your ethics or the way you live out your faith been affected by your interests? I know that I have made myself fairly comfortable in a middle class lifestyle in the United States. I don’t have a very radical ethic regarding wealth or poverty. Do these things not concern God? Is it possible that my own interests… and that of our capitalist economy… have had some impact on how I live out my faith in these areas?
Weber also felt that there were moments in life where revolution was possible. In those moments, he saw key ideas form in a society, key leaders arise and key events take place that somehow just fit together. He called it elective affinity. When these things came together, the sum was greater than any one of the parts and the world shifted a little on its axis. Weber’s key example was the Protestant Work Ethic and capitalism. Religion often played a key role in these momentous movements as did something Weber termed “charisma” or “the prophetic.” Interestingly, Weber is using these terms sociologically. Rather than linking them to faith, he links them to how they function in society.
I suppose I choose to believe something different. I believe that these moments when everything comes together are more than just matters of human interest or historical accidents. I think they are moments when God is at work in this world. Having said that, I need to consider if at times they are also caused when some other force was at work for not all these momentous changes have been for the good of humanity or this earth. Weber asked about the role of religion in these great movements of history. I would ask the same question, but from a slightly different perspective. Not simply how did they happen, but why did they take the direction they did? Why do some things that start out so beautiful turn out so destructive? Why do some small movements become great works of good in our world? Does our faith, individually and corporately, shape the world for good or evil? We all want to say for the good, but can we prove that? Would a sociologist observing us agree?
Monday, September 10, 2007
World Relief in Peru....
Just a quick note... I'll be heading to Peru in a few weeks with friends. No, it isn't disaster relief following the earthquakes. We are just going as tourists. But we do want to support the relief efforts in Peru. So here is a link to one organization that is trying to help:
http://www.covchurch.org/cov/news/item5780
For those interested in a bit more information about the earthquake in Peru, here is a news story with most of the information.
http://www.christianpost.com/article/20070821/28995_Search_for_Peru_Quake_Survivors_Ends%3B_Relief_Efforts_Ongoing.htm
If the link doesn't work, you can also go to the Covenant World Relief website by clicking to the link to the right.
http://www.covchurch.org/cov/news/item5780
For those interested in a bit more information about the earthquake in Peru, here is a news story with most of the information.
http://www.christianpost.com/article/20070821/28995_Search_for_Peru_Quake_Survivors_Ends%3B_Relief_Efforts_Ongoing.htm
If the link doesn't work, you can also go to the Covenant World Relief website by clicking to the link to the right.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Does Society Equal Religion?
This past week classes started up again. This year I am a student rather than an administrator! I thought I would miss my work, but I have been too busy to really dwell on it. Plus, I am really interested in what I am taking.
This past week I have been reading Emile Durkheim’s The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. It is a seminal and controversial work in the field of sociology of religion. In a nutshell, Durkheim was searching for the basic fundamental building blocks of religion. To do so, he read the notes of anthropologists and sociologists who had studied what he felt to be one of the most basic and simple forms of religion in the world at the time, the Totemic religions of the tribal groups in Australia. His conclusion, very simplified, was that human beings are fundamentally social people. As they gathered together into social groups, they experienced the force of the collective. You might say they felt “peer pressure.” They had no way to articulate what they were feeling, this pressure that seemed to come out of no where, and so they created symbols to represent what they were feeling. These symbols became attached to certain elements in the world, totems. Over time, these totems that symbolized the force of social pressure were thought to embody that force and became objects of worship. Those objects of worship eventually became gods. Those gods represented, or were equal to, society or the people themselves.
There is one clear issue with this theory. It presumes that there is no God. There is no outside force that acts upon humanity or this world. God is just a manifestation of ourselves collectively, of society. So, I fundamentally disagree with that. But his theories are helpful. While I disagree with his conclusions, Durkheim highlights the nature of social forces in this world. As one who is concerned about issues of racism and sexism in our society, this is a helpful step. Racism and sexism, while embodied in individuals, also has a collective social component. It becomes embodied in our rituals, our structures, our organizations. There is “peer pressure” that seems to perpetuate these sins in society even when we are trying to fight against them. I am not trying to deny individual agency in these particular sins. We still have free will and the ability to make choices. But individual changes are not sufficient.
In thinking of religion as a social force, I was drawn to two parallel theological concepts: the trinity and the body of Christ. Regardless of Durkheim’s presuppositions, he was right. Religion is social. Religion is not social because it is a manifestation of society. Religion is social because God is fundamentally social. Some theologians point us to the relational nature of the trinity. God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) is always in relationship with God’s self. God is three in one because God is inherently social. The social aspect of God is manifested in the world in the Church. We are individual created in the image of Christ, but even more fundamentally, together, as believers, we are the body of Christ. God is manifest on earth in society, in the gathering together of believers. Part of Christianity, then, is to preserve this unity of the body of Christ. For Durkheim, ritual was central to this process. As a tribe gathered together for worship, they reestablished connection with one another. In the act of coming together, the power of the society was palpable. The people left feeling stronger, safer, empowered for their life.
The body of Christ needs ritual to exist. Not individual ritual, but collective ritual, the coming together for worship. It is the act of gathering that unites us. And when that gathering is focused in worship, we gather strength as the body of Christ.
I haven’t done justice to Durkheim… or to Christianity for that matter. But perhaps this will stir something for a few of you. For me, it has helped me to understand why I continue to gather in worship each Sunday. Honestly, I feel very little in church these days. I miss the emotional highs of my youth group days or the contemporary worship that has been a part of my past. While emotion serves to form community, it is not central. The very act of gathering is efficacious. While I might not always feel it in my heart, knowing it in my head helps. Sometimes we have to act ourselves into belief.
This past week I have been reading Emile Durkheim’s The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. It is a seminal and controversial work in the field of sociology of religion. In a nutshell, Durkheim was searching for the basic fundamental building blocks of religion. To do so, he read the notes of anthropologists and sociologists who had studied what he felt to be one of the most basic and simple forms of religion in the world at the time, the Totemic religions of the tribal groups in Australia. His conclusion, very simplified, was that human beings are fundamentally social people. As they gathered together into social groups, they experienced the force of the collective. You might say they felt “peer pressure.” They had no way to articulate what they were feeling, this pressure that seemed to come out of no where, and so they created symbols to represent what they were feeling. These symbols became attached to certain elements in the world, totems. Over time, these totems that symbolized the force of social pressure were thought to embody that force and became objects of worship. Those objects of worship eventually became gods. Those gods represented, or were equal to, society or the people themselves.
There is one clear issue with this theory. It presumes that there is no God. There is no outside force that acts upon humanity or this world. God is just a manifestation of ourselves collectively, of society. So, I fundamentally disagree with that. But his theories are helpful. While I disagree with his conclusions, Durkheim highlights the nature of social forces in this world. As one who is concerned about issues of racism and sexism in our society, this is a helpful step. Racism and sexism, while embodied in individuals, also has a collective social component. It becomes embodied in our rituals, our structures, our organizations. There is “peer pressure” that seems to perpetuate these sins in society even when we are trying to fight against them. I am not trying to deny individual agency in these particular sins. We still have free will and the ability to make choices. But individual changes are not sufficient.
In thinking of religion as a social force, I was drawn to two parallel theological concepts: the trinity and the body of Christ. Regardless of Durkheim’s presuppositions, he was right. Religion is social. Religion is not social because it is a manifestation of society. Religion is social because God is fundamentally social. Some theologians point us to the relational nature of the trinity. God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) is always in relationship with God’s self. God is three in one because God is inherently social. The social aspect of God is manifested in the world in the Church. We are individual created in the image of Christ, but even more fundamentally, together, as believers, we are the body of Christ. God is manifest on earth in society, in the gathering together of believers. Part of Christianity, then, is to preserve this unity of the body of Christ. For Durkheim, ritual was central to this process. As a tribe gathered together for worship, they reestablished connection with one another. In the act of coming together, the power of the society was palpable. The people left feeling stronger, safer, empowered for their life.
The body of Christ needs ritual to exist. Not individual ritual, but collective ritual, the coming together for worship. It is the act of gathering that unites us. And when that gathering is focused in worship, we gather strength as the body of Christ.
I haven’t done justice to Durkheim… or to Christianity for that matter. But perhaps this will stir something for a few of you. For me, it has helped me to understand why I continue to gather in worship each Sunday. Honestly, I feel very little in church these days. I miss the emotional highs of my youth group days or the contemporary worship that has been a part of my past. While emotion serves to form community, it is not central. The very act of gathering is efficacious. While I might not always feel it in my heart, knowing it in my head helps. Sometimes we have to act ourselves into belief.
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