Bzzzzt.

Game over.

Well, that was quick.

I'm thinking: I was Googled. And you know, the internet is just a wonderful, wonderful thing. But sometimes you wish that you could make information available at your own pace. Like, you know, later.

Aagh, who am I kidding? I'm just frustrated because, once again, there are not going to be any more kisses.

What does a person have to do to ensure a steady supply of the kisses? Why is this so hard to come by?

[Addendum: You know, it's really more about the abundant supply of undeployed affection that I have. You'd think there'd be someone out there who wouldn't mind being on the receiving end of it. Why does this reciprocal exchange so consistently elude me?]

The Year in Review

I rang in the New Year with friends, in a low-key fashion. My mind is elsewhere. Thank god almighty, I'm free at last! I don't know that this was a puddle of milk, but it sure looked like one. If global warming really sets in, and sea level rises 14 meters, Washington's waterfront property will look radically different. "B.A." of course being Before Ariel, that barren time period stretching back many decades before Her Highness comes to live with me. What a day it's been. My visit to Boston for my father's 85th birthday wasn't as difficult as I anticipated. Ack! NOT FOR SALE at any price! The problem of evil is — it seems to me — the pre-eminent theological problem for Christians. Sometimes I do feel as if I'm the victim of an elaborate conspiracy.

First sentence from first posts each month for 2006. Touches on a little bit of everything that transpired this year...

My Elf Name

This is goofy. Apparently my Elf Name is "Perky Fluffy-Paws." I like it.

Get your Elf Name here. (Thanks, Mike!)

Good gift?

It is a little embarassing how pleased a person can be to receive an email. I got a short, modest little message from last week's poker fella and proceeded to execute a rather extravagant happy dance around my apartment.

I had pretty much given up any expectation of follow-up, so this came as a pleasant surprise. Now, of course, I must a) refrain from anticipating anything much more and b) wait until Thursday evening's poker game to find out.

I expect, in fact, that I'm in for a world of hurt (as usual) on this one. So I might as well enjoy my little moment of happiness right now.

Born into the World

God is not "out there" or "up there." God is with us. We are not alone. And love is stronger than death.

It is a powerful spiritual exercise to try to see the child of God in every face you encounter. How differently would you speak to your husband, your child, your friend, the stranger, if you knew you were speaking to Christ? How differently would you thank the clerk at the grocery store if you knew you were thanking God?

May we be open to receiving all good gifts this Christmas season.

How My Mind Has Changed

This is part 2 of my Theology take-home exam. The assignment was:

Write an essay that addresses how your theological thinking has changed on a given topic over the course of the past semester.

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I have always felt that the linear narrative about the people of Israel and their God, the advent of Jesus and his life, death, and resurrection, and the establishment and growth of church through the gift of the Holy Spirit was a rickety and dubious framework upon which to build an adequate account of God. It’s such a peculiarly time-bound, geographically-challenged, ethnocentric, scripture-circumscribed storyline. How could such an idiosyncratic account properly point to a timeless, limitless, endlessly creative source and ground of all that is? How could such a quaint historical artifact speak to my search for God in my life, here and now?

Over the course of this semester I have gradually tried to come to grips with what I now perceive to be the true genius of Christianity: that it is about Jesus. I continue to be astonished by what a mundane and flat-footed observation this is (“Christianity is about Jesus.” “No kidding, Einstein!”), and yet how seemingly immeasurably deep a subject it is to try to plumb.

It has been fascinating to me to watch the superstructure of doctrine being built on top of the foundational skeleton of scripture and tradition. Working from some axioms found in scripture and accepted by faith — Jesus was Emmanuel (God-with-us), fully human and fully divine, Son of God — and drawing upon the witness of the Hebrew scriptures, the Gospels, and other documents of the New Testament, all sorts of attributes and characteristics of God can be fleshed out.

Starting from an originally quite antagonistic perspective, for example, to my surprise I have come to truly appreciate the doctrine of the Trinity. It turns out to be the most parsimonious explanation of the nature of God that does justice both to scripture and to our experience in the Church as a community of faith. We cannot do without any person of the Trinity, and we have no need of additional persons. Having said that, however, I don’t mean to imply that the doctrine of the Trinity isn’t also problematic: unless carefully taught and carefully received it can easily be more of a stumbling block than an aid to faith. It was useful to be reminded that it is God we believe and have faith in, not the tenets of any particular doctrine of the church.

Because Christianity is centrally tied to the story of a particular person and his relationship with God and with other human beings, Christian theology is concrete, specific, and fleshy in a way that many other religions are not. One must trot at pretty high speed down the runway of scripture to achieve a lift-off into pure abstraction, although the Gospel of John does a pretty good job of providing a turbo boost. Since most of us are not high-octane intellectuals who spend all our time thinking cosmic platonic thoughts, Christian theology — with its frank acknowledgment of the realities of suffering, loss, and betrayal alongside its portrayal of God’s love and the promise of salvation — meets us where we are: located in real human bodies living in specific moments in history. Cliché though it may be, I think the question “What would Jesus do?” is actually both theologically sound and a pragmatic way to determine a strategy for holy living.

The Christian portrayal of God in Jesus is compelling because it shows us an interested God. No, more than that, it shows us a God who loves person to person — not in a petty, possessive, jealous, and controlling way, but in an expansive, generous, self-giving, abundant way. Jesus’ love is passionate and unreserved; we see it in his ministry and we see it in his passion. We do not have stop being who we are, we do not have to somehow shed our identities along with our sins and our foibles in order to be loved. In fact, the nature of Christ’s love is to free us, at last, to be even more completely and perfectly who we really are, who we were meant to be.

The story of Jesus is also the story of the new community that emerges among those who follow him: how he loves, leads, and teaches them, and how he and they live on together after his death and resurrection. The church is what it is, the Body of Christ in the world, because Jesus was first Christ in the world. Without Jesus of Nazareth, who called disciples to new lives, there would be no servant-leadership, no holy catholic church, no communion of saints, no priesthood of all believers.

Having said all this, however, I must mention one strong and continuing reservation about the Christian narrative of salvation history and how it is sometimes fleshed out in doctrine. I remain staunchly spiritually allergic to any religion’s claims of an exclusive lock on access to or knowledge of God. The words “only” and “best” in this context make me break out in hives. I do not believe that there is only way to God, or that God can only be described by one system of theology. Even as the story of Jesus commends itself theologically to me more and more, I will not affirm that this is the sole true way to a knowledge and love of God. But I will avow that it is one good way, even one very good way, and that I am deeply grateful to be able to grapple with it in an increasingly substantive manner.

What better occasion for some theology?

It's Christmas Eve, and I thought I'd share with you lucky, lucky people the texts of my Theology take-home final. The first, and longest, is an attempt to outline the doctrine of the Holy Spirit and Christian Life. Or something.

Anyway, it's here in PDF format.

Mysterious Ways

Excuse me if I'm just a little bit baffled again.

Frankly, it's difficult not to go all anthropomorphic and picture a divine Person clutching the holy sides and roaring with laughter, practically falling off that big ol' throne.

Note: this is not actually a complaint.

I had an amazingly fun time last night. I was playing pub poker at a relatively new venue for me (it was only my third time at this location). I came in third the first tournament, and won the second one. Need I add that I really like winning?

Long story short, I wound up flirting madly with a handsome young thing who seemed as interested as I was, which is always nice. There were kisses, which is also almost always nice (as in this case). So I'm kind of back to where I started, except that this particular situation is ~ as far as I can tell ~ unencumbered and thus presents little-to-no opportunity for angst and regret. Which is nice too.

I don't expect anything by way of follow up on this. But I sure had a blast.

Miles to Go...

Still so much to be done... actually, most of the hard stuff. We've really only just barely begun to deal with this. I will have to come back several times to get through it all.

But there is a possible ray of light at the end of the tunnel. It turns out that there may have been one successful moment of estate planning that means that my siblings and I will see a small portion of family legacy after all. And it may be that this can be realized before my father dies, without in any way being a detriment to providing for and ensuring his well-being and comfort for the rest of his days.

It might, for example, mean that I could afford to become a full-time student.

The very possibility turns this work from being an utterly thankless burden into one that may have some actual material benefit associated with it. And, crass creature that I am, it makes these relentless, enormous, emotionally and physically exhausting set of tasks just a wee bit less catastrophically unpleasant.

Not much less, but a little less. And I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for that narrow sliver of daylight.

Sick & Tired

It's a miracle that my sister and I haven't murdered each other yet. I want, more than anything else in the world, for this to be over. And it's not going to be, not for a long, long time. There is so much work yet to be done.

When I get home, and I recover from this, I am going to get medieval on my own paper nightmare. Words cannot express the loathing I have developed for PILES OF PAPER. Let's be clear: They. Are. Satan.

My new personal motto: "When in doubt, throw it out."

[I had written three more paragraphs of whining and complaining and woe-is-me, but I think I'll just skip it. You don't need to read it, and my writing it doesn't really make anything better. This too shall pass.]

Do This Now

Do you have children, or a family whom you love?

Do this now: put your life in order. Put the important stuff in one, clearly-marked place, and tell people where it is in writing.

Throw most of your stuff out. Ask yourself, every time you are tempted to squirrel something away, "Why am I saving this? Who will have to deal with it later if I don't deal with it now?"

Do not leave piles of crap for your loved ones to sort through. If you want a legacy of your life or work, prepare it yourself and put it in the hands of people who both can and want to perpetuate it.

My sister and I are wading through the detritus of our parents' lives. It is exhausting, physically and emotionally. It has long since ceased to be a labor of love; at this point it is a labor of necessity and resentment. We are both at the ends of our tethers, and we no longer care what they would have wanted. Because clearly they spent NO TIME AT ALL preparing for this eventuality.

Many, many more hours of logistical stuff having to do with money and health care lie ahead of us. Many, many more hours of sifting through STUFF remain. I'm leaving Wednesday afternoon, and we're just not going to be done by then. Which means I'll have to come back. OH GOODIE.

I am sick and worn out. More than anything, I want all this to be over.

Done and done

Gospels paper: submitted, graded and returned.
Theology take-home exam: submitted.

My first two classes at seminary are well and truly over. They were both eminently worthwhile.
I'm exhausted and sick.

I have a day to recover before I head to Boston.

The Absence of Temptation

Be careful what you pray for.

When I asked that I not be put in the position to become an occasion for sin on the part of another (and myself), I didn't really expect that my prayer would be answered.

Why God is so perverse as to grant this particular half-hearted request and not the many others that I place at foot of the throne, I cannot say. But I detect a rather dry and ironic sense of humor.

So now I would like to say: could I have that temptation back, please? I quite enjoyed the frisson associated with the forbidden fruit.

Trying the switch to Blogger Beta again...

Be ready for a service interruption...

UPDATE: I sure wish Blogger would stop trying to get me to migrate every time I sign in. Because, NO, they then tell me, we CAN'T migrate you. For unknown reasons. Grr.

Get back to me when you get your shit together, Blogger.

How to Build Consumer Goodwill: Assume I'm a Thief and a Drug Dealer

Okay, so predictably with all the work and the stress, I have another major cold. This is the second in three months, which is something of a record for me.

So I go to my local drugstore to pick up some Sudafed. I want the the real Sudafed, you know, the stuff that actually works. I made the mistake of buying the new, non-pseudoephedrine stuff last time and it was utterly useless.

In order to purchase this CONTROLLED SUBSTANCE now, you have to pick up a card off a rack (which conveniently has no prices associated with the various products and sizes of products) and go to the pharmacy. You are then required to surrender a photo ID, your name and address, and provide a signature. FOR ONE STINKING BOX OF DECONGESTANT PILLS.

Let us count the ways that this is fucking idiotic.

1. Meth manufacturers are surely going to buy boxes of Sudafed one at a time. Yeah, right.


2. Meth manufacturers are going to use legitimate ID and their own credit cards when they buy their single boxes of Sudafed. For sure.


3. Meth manufacturers are frequently middle-aged women with runny noses and stuffed up sinuses who go to the same drugstore year after year.

To add insult to injury, the razor blade cartridges I like are now behind the counter too. So I had to pay for my cold medicine at one end of the store, and then buy my pricier than gold razor blades at the other end. Maybe if the razor blades weren't SO PREPOSTEROUSLY EXPENSIVE they wouldn't get boosted so often. You think?

Modern life is degrading and depressing. Of course it beats the heck out of any other period in human history, but still.

These are not the gifts You are looking for...

Setting aside all modesty, I must say that there are number of things I'm quite good at. (I'll spare you the enumeration of my talents, such as they are.)

All my life, I was led to believe that my gifts would tell me who I was supposed to be, and what I was supposed to do with my life.

It seems to me now, in the end, that it is my failures and my weaknesses that are teaching me where I am to go. God lavished me with a variety of capabilities and favorable circumstances, and in my haphazard fashion I have pursued one avenue after another, trying to derive meaning and satisfaction from the exercise of my strengths.

But it seems those obvious paths are not the ones that lead me on the right road. I need to pay more attention to the dangerously untrod outback of my inner territory, where the Spirit has been whispering subversive and counterintuitive psalms to my soul.

A Reason to Love Seminary

I made it to my class this morning on sheer bloody-minded determination. I'm crushed with deadlines and feeling thoroughly wrung out.

It seems as if my instructor is under similar strains. Several times during this morning's lecture on the Gospel of John there were pauses as she struggled to choke back tears and regain control. At the first hour break she shared some of the reasons why with the class.

Immediately, one of my fellow students piped up and asked if someone might offer a prayer for her, right then. The teacher invited the one who'd asked to do so. The student proceeded to deliver an extemporaneous prayer, using the same Johannine language and themes we had been studying. By the end, half the class — including me — was in tears.

This tenderness for one another and this willingness and eagerness to turn to God in community is deeply moving to me.

The Hound of Heaven

Sometimes I do feel as if I'm the victim of an elaborate conspiracy.

Today I ran into a couple who own one of the other condos in my Dad's brownstone. They live in Washington too, and go to my church. They insisted upon taking me out to lunch, and getting me to tell them what was going on in my life.

They asked me about my classes at WTS. The husband zeroed in on the topic like a laser beam, and wouldn't let it go. "That's where you heart is, isn't it?"

I explained the many complications of my circumstance: financial, diocesan, chronological, personal.

"Aren't you ready to make a change?" he asked me. Oh if he only knew just exactly how ready; I'm in the throes of another work nightmare.

Their enthusiasm on my behalf seems to come out of nowhere. Do you think if I stuck my fingers in my ears and said "la-la-la-la-la" very loudly, I could avoid hearing this message again and again?

[P.S. The last word in depravity: using your Theology course readings as procrastination fodder. I have no shame.]

Whose religion is Christianity?

Overview of Christian Theology: Assignment 10

Lamin Sanneh draws a useful distinction between global Christianity, a hegemonic offspring of Western European expansionism and colonialism, and world Christianity, characterized by the adoption, absorption, and proclamation of the gospel in less-developed nations and by indigenous peoples in a way unrelated and generally counter to nationalistic goals or political powers-that-be. He ascribes the growth and strength of the latter movement primarily to the burgeoning of Bible translations into mother tongues, and even more specifically to the use of the primary language’s original words for God in the new texts.

He rightly points out that all gospel texts are, on a fundamental level, translations. None of them are Aramaic, the presumed native tongue of Jesus of Nazareth. Each of them had already been filtered through the sieve of street Greek before they came into the canon. He identifies this as, in fact, a strength of Christianity: that the story and message of the gospel are both simple and powerful enough to be conveyed by the plain language of everyday folk, that God can speak to us directly in our own language. The church itself was essentially brought into being at Pentecost, when the Spirit gave voice to the good news in all the languages of the world known to Luke.

He claims that, for example, African Christianity has an advantage, despite its colonial origins, in that it has never been a bitterly contested religion. As he puts it: “there have been no ecclesiastical courts condemning unbelievers, heretics and witches to death; no bloody battles of doctrine and piety; no territorial aggrandizement by churches; no jihads against infidels; no fatwas against women; no amputations, lynchings, ostracism, penalties, or public condemnations of doctrinal difference or dissent.” (p. 39) To which I am tempted quite cynically to add: “Yet.” Western Christianity managed to get a century or so in before it started becoming enough of an institution to start abusing power instead of being persecuted. Sanneh draws parallels between early Christian communities and world Christianity, but doesn’t explain persuasively why a similar evolution shouldn’t eventually take place.

I must admit that I find the socratic dialog format of this book quite frustrating, as I generally do. For me, the chief difficulty is that the flow of the question and answer rarely goes in a way that corresponds to the way I would want to investigate the topic. I always feel that the wrong question is being asked at the wrong time, or that a straw man is being erected just to have the stuffing kicked out of him. Follow up questions are not the ones that I would have asked, although of course they do serve the agenda of the author! And when a question I have is asked, it is generally not answered in as thorough or satisfactory way as I would prefer. I also note that there’s a danger of the same themes and material returning over and over; I found that this slim book contained a great deal of repetition.

In particular, I was disappointed in the dismissive way that Sanneh treats the Western experience of the Enlightenment and modern science and their interaction with the texts and doctrines of the Christian tradition. He seems to imply that this experience is, on some substantive level, basically irrelevant for the way the gospel is lived and transmitted in other cultures, and that it will continue to be so in the future. This seems inherently improbable to me.

I do, however, delight in the recurring sentiment that “Christianity is a multicolored fabric where each new thread, chosen and refined at the Designer’s hand, adds luster and strength to the whole.” I rather wish Sanneh would give us more specific examples of the new or different kind of theology that emerges from world Christianity's claim upon the Bible. I sympathize deeply with his call both to other voices and other interpretations, and to rejoice whenever the gospel finds and speaks to people where they are, in the language and cultural form accessible to them.

Reading: Whose Religion is Christianity? The Gospel beyond the West by Lamin Sanneh. 2003. William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company: Grand Rapids, MI.