Author Archives: Jendi Reiter

William Childress: “How the Earth Was Made”


William Childress is a Pulitzer-nominated author and photojournalist who is regarded as one of the foremost poets of the Korean War. His books include Burning the Years and Lobo. “Chilly” is a Winning Writers subscriber and an endlessly entertaining correspondent. He emailed me one of his latest poems, which I liked so much that I got permission to reprint it here. Though I don’t share the narrator’s atheistic conclusion, I can relate to the feeling that God’s creation is so much grander and more mysterious than some of our stunted human concepts of the divine. Sometimes, religious ideas (like any ideas) can be a distraction from appreciating what’s right in front of us.

How the Earth Was Made

I was a youngster when I walked a trail
Through autumn woods a nonexistent god
took credit for. I never thought it odd
that to a child, the world was magical,

and yellow was the color of enchantment.
It wasn’t simply that a golden hue
should bejewel and complement the blue
eternal arc that made a firmament,

but that the sky itself should overlay
my own poor silly guise. There had to be
so many ways to create such a world,
ways understood by all but those who spoiled

the fairness and the flowers by saying God
made it all in just seven days. How odd
we are, attributing power to nothing but air.
If you can’t see it, then it isn’t there.

Usury: The Invisible Sin


American Christians have a lot of buying power. Imagine, if you will, what would happen if we went off the financial “grid” and refused to bank with companies that had abusive lending policies for their mortgage borrowers and credit-card customers. As I read the Bible, financial oppression is a front-and-center issue. And yet, in this supposedly Christian nation, consumer advocates have been trying in vain for years to pass regulations against overdraft fees that are several thousand times greater than the debt that triggered them. Both political parties bear some blame for deregulating the industry, but I believe it’s time for socially conservative Christians to rethink their automatic support for the GOP, given the party’s complete inattention to economic justice issues.

Apparently, when you have a debit card from most major banks, it doesn’t actually deny you funds when you run out of money in your account. Instead, the bank “lends” you money without your knowledge or consent, and then charges “interest” at an effective rate of up to 4,000%. I was unaware of this multibillion-dollar scam (which is still perfectly legal) until my best friend got hit with $500 in penalties for a $15 overdraft on his debit card. In his own words:  

On the 14th of August I received my first letter from the bank, telling me I was 15 dollars overdrawn on 5 small check card purchases on August 10th. For each of these I was charged a $25 fee for a penalty of $125. Of course, at that point I stopped making ATM purchases, but between August 10th and the 14th, I continued about my business and my ATM card contniued to work ALLOWING me to make purchases even though I was apparently already overdrawn at that point. So, I had an additional I think 8 purchases from the 10th to the 14th, when I received my first letter from the bank. Yesterday I received another letter from the bank itemizing four of these new purchases, of which they charged me $37 for the first, and $39 for the next three (not $25 anymore.) OK fine.

Today I went to the bank. I got the most recent update first. I have so far been charged $240 in penalties (in 4 days) , with two more “purchases” which haven’t gone through, which will add another $78 in penalities when they “clear.” I then spoke with a customer rep. I explained the situation to her. I explained that the reason that I signed up for debit card rather than credit was because I did not want the possibility of getting myself into trouble borrowing money. I did NOT WANT to be offered credit— this was the sole reason I signed up for the debit card. She said that it was my responsibility to keep track of my own balance and purchases, not the bank’s. I admitted that while that was true, the bank had a responsibility to make clear what I was agreeing to when I signed up with them. I said that it was explained to me that a debit card worked like a credit card as long as you had money in your account. It was never made clear to me that I would given credit without my agreeing to it and then charged credit at 1,800% INTEREST! I said that was insane, and exactly opposite to what I was trying to do to help my financial situation. If I had known that was what I was signing up for, I never would have signed up for that. I would have gotten a freakin’ credit card at 30% interest instead!!!! WHICH IS WHAT I DIDN’T WANT!

Right now, I owe the bank about $340, $100 for the purchases I made during the four days my account did not have money though they let me keep charging, plus $240 in penalties. In another day or two I might owe them close to $500. At present, when I go to an ATM and check my balance, it says zero dollars and I cannot make purchases. This is what I expected would have happened from August 10th to August 14th. However, during those four days the bank allowed me to keep charging and then charging me 1,800% interest on those purchases for four days!

My friend has been disputing the charges with the completely unhelpful branch managers at Citizens Bank in Buffalo, and in the meantime, has run up nearly $500 in debt because they are still charging him $37 per day. To keep him perpetually behind the eight-ball, when he now deposits a check in his account, the debit card machine tells him that the money is free to make purchases, but the bank applies the money to his overcharge penalties and then charges him a new penalty for the purchases he was misled into making.

He’s not alone in this Kafkaesque scenario. This July 29 article from MSN Money describes a nationwide problem (boldface emphasis mine):

A new survey of overdraft fees charged by the nation’s largest banks reveals that bankers are hiking fees, adding new fees, and shortening time limits to trigger fees when banks pay overdrafts and extend credit to families struggling to make ends meet.

The Consumer Federation of America blames the Federal Reserve for failing to protect consumers from escalating and multiplying overdraft fees.

Testifying before Congress recently in support of President Obama’s proposed Consumer Financial Protection Agency, the CFA said regulatory inaction in just this one area is costing hard-pressed consumers more than $17.5 billion during the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression….

The Consumer Federation of America’s survey can be read in PDF form here. As you can see, effective rates on a 7-day overdraft of $100 range from 1,820% to 3,848% at the top 16 banks. More tales of consumer woe can be found here. The New York Times also ran a staff editorial yesterday urging Congress to act:

Not many people would knowingly pay more than $35 for a cup of coffee. But far too many people are getting saddled — with no warning — with outsized bills for minor purchases, under a euphemistically labeled “overdraft protection program” that most major banks have adopted over the last 10 years.

Before that, most banks would simply have rejected debit transactions, without a fee, when the card holder’s account was empty. Now, they approve the purchase and tack on a hefty penalty for each transaction.

Moebs Services, a research company that has conducted studies for the government as well as some banks, reported recently that banks will earn more than $38 billion this year from overdraft and bounced-check fees. Moebs also estimates that 90 percent of that amount will be paid by the poorest 10 percent of the customer base….

Call your representatives and demand an end to debit-card usury!

Straight Ally of the Day: Ted Olson


The libertarian wing of the GOP, which briefly wooed me into that party as the defenders of free speech during the politically correct 1990s, has seemed to be all but dead in the era of Bush-style statism for the rich. But conservative powerhouse Theodore Olson, one of the Right’s most respected constitutional lawyers, remembers that his movement once stood for something more than bailouts for dimwitted financiers.

An unlikely but very welcome ally, Olson is the lead counsel in the federal lawsuit to overturn Prop 8 on equal protection grounds, now pending in District Court in San Francisco. This New York Times profile describes his road to defending GLBT civil rights, and the flack he’s taking from his Republican compadres:

…Mr. Olson had become active in the Republican Party as a college and law student in California in the 1960s, long before the rise of the religious right and its focus on social issues. He gravitated toward a particularly Western brand of conservatism that valued small government and maximum individual liberty, becoming one of a few law students at the University of California, Berkeley to support Barry Goldwater’s 1964 presidential bid.

At the time, the South was riven by racial strife, and during a college debate trip to Texas, Mr. Olson got his first close-up view of blatant discrimination. Lady Booth Olson, a lawyer whom Mr. Olson married in 2006, said he still tears up when telling how a black teammate was turned away from a restaurant in Amarillo. Mr. Olson “tore into the owner,” insisting the team would not eat unless everyone was served, recalled the team’s coach, Paul Winters. “If he sees something that is wrong in his mind, he goes after it,” Mr. Winters said.

Years later, during the Reagan administration, when Mr. Olson was asked if the Justice Department could dismiss a prosecutor for being gay, he wrote that it was “improper to deny employment or to terminate anyone on the basis of sexual conduct.” In 1984, Mr. Olson returned to private practice and was succeeded by Mr. Cooper, his adversary in the marriage case. The switch eliminated “what was seen as a certain libertarian squishiness at the Office of Legal Counsel under Ted,” Mr. Calabresi said.

During the Bush administration, Mr. Olson was consulted on a plan to amend the Constitution to define marriage as between a man and a woman. “What were we thinking putting something like that in the Constitution?” he recalls telling the White House.

Around that time, state legislatures were debating alternatives to same-sex marriage like civil unions, but Mr. Olson said he saw them as political half-measures that continued to treat gay men and lesbians as separate and unequal. Over dinner at a Capitol Hill restaurant, he argued that marriage was an essential component of happiness that gay couples had every right to enjoy, recalled David Frum, a conservative author and former Bush speechwriter.

“I was really impressed and struck by how important the issue was to him,” Mr. Frum said. “The majority view at the table was on the other side, but his view was, ‘You have to make peace with this because it is sure to happen, and you will see it in your lifetime.’ ”

Mr. Olson signed on to the California case after a meeting at Mr. Reiner’s home last December, telling the group gathered there that he would not “just be some hired gun,” Ms. Schake recalled. In fact, he had already rebuffed a query about defending Proposition 8.

Still, to allay suspicions on the left, he suggested bringing on his adversary in Bush v. Gore, David Boies, whom he had since befriended. Both lawyers agreed to waive part of their fees.

“I thought, why wouldn’t I take this case?” Mr. Olson said. “Because someone at the Federalist Society thinks I’d be making bad law? I wouldn’t be making bad law.”

In Mr. Olson’s analysis, the situation in California presents a favorable set of facts for an equal protection argument. Proposition 8 created three classes: straight couples who could marry, gay men and lesbians who had married in the brief period before the ban, and gay couples who wanted to marry but now could not.

As he began honing the arguments, he sounded out a few confidants, including his wife, Lady.

One of those whose advice he sought was Robert McConnell, a friend from the Reagan Justice Department. Mr. McConnell, a practicing Catholic, said he told Mr. Olson that as a religious matter, he believed that marriage ought to be reserved for two people who can procreate. He said Mr. Olson replied that while he respected his convictions, he considered it a civil-rights issue.

Mr. Olson, who is not a regular churchgoer, began to elaborate on his view that religious beliefs were insufficient legal justification for government to refuse to recognize same-sex marriage, but soon paused. “You don’t agree with me, do you?” Mr. McConnell recalled him saying.

Ms. Olson, a Democrat, said she was thrilled that “on this case we’ll be on the same wavelength.” She said Mr. Olson’s mother, Yvonne, expressed some initial concern that a court decision overturning Proposition 8 would disenfranchise voters, but came around after Mr. Olson explained that voters cannot impose mandates that violate constitutionally protected rights.

In the lawsuit, filed in May, he asserted that Proposition 8 had done just that.

Since then, he and Mr. Cooper have been filing dueling briefs.

The Supreme Court has long recognized marriage between men and women as a right, most notably in a 1967 case overturning bans on interracial marriage. Since sexual orientation, unlike race, is not mentioned in the Constitution, the question is whether that right extends to gay men and lesbians.

The answer, in Mr. Cooper’s view, can be found in a 1970 case, in which the Supreme Court refused to hear an appeal of a lower court ruling that marriage could be limited to men and women. But Mr. Olson points to two more recent Supreme Court cases.

The first is a 1996 decision in which six of the nine justices, citing equal protection grounds, struck down an amendment to the Colorado Constitution that stripped gay residents of existing civil rights protections. This, Mr. Olson argues, is similar to Proposition 8’s negating the California Supreme Court decision that recognized the rights of gay couples to marry.

The second is the court’s 6-3 decision in Lawrence v. Texas, striking down laws criminalizing sodomy in 2003. Not only did the majority find that Texas had no rational basis to intrude into private sexual behavior protected by the Constitution’s due process clause, it also declared that gay men and lesbians should be free to enter into relationships in their homes and “still retain their dignity.”

Mr. Cooper asserts that Mr. Olson is stretching the scope of the Lawrence decision, pointing out that it dealt with the criminalization of private sexual behavior, not a state’s duty to recognize a marriage. But Mr. Olson notes that no less a conservative than Justice Antonin Scalia argued in a blistering dissent that the majority in Lawrence had indeed opened the door to same-sex marriage.

Given that the Lawrence case established gay sex as a protected right, Mr. Olson argues, the state must demonstrate that it has a rational basis for discriminating against a class of citizens simply for engaging in that behavior.

He dismisses Mr. Cooper’s contention that the California ban is justified by that state’s interest in encouraging relationships that promote procreation and the raising of children by biological parents. If sexual orientation is not a choice — and Mr. Olson argues that it is not — then the ban is not going to encourage his clients to enter into heterosexual, child-producing marriages, he insists. Moreover, he says, California has waived the right to make that argument by recognizing domestic partnerships that bestow most benefits of marriage.

And that is if the state wanted to: Mr. Olson structured the lawsuit so the named defendants are two proponents of same-sex marriage, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger and Attorney General Jerry Brown. Both have filed helpful briefs questioning the constitutionality of Proposition 8.
…

Read the whole article here.

In other Prop 8 news, Bay Area indie newspaper East Bay Express last week broke the story that Oakland Bishop Salvatore Cordileone had been a chief mastermind of the referendum, organizing right-wing religious groups and large donors to raise millions behind the scenes. (One wonders whether this lobbying activity ought to endanger his church’s tax-exempt status.) Cordileone is chiefly known for his dedicated ministry to poor Mexican immigrants.

People are complex, and if our bad deeds cancelled our good ones, who could escape judgment? But still, if the bishop has the clout to raise six-figure contributions from the Knights of Columbus and wealthy businessmen, isn’t it a crime to spend it on taking away same-sex couples’ rights instead of feeding the poor? And if it’s easier to get these Christians to pony up for the former cause than the latter, what does that say about their comprehension of the gospel? 

Viagra Ice Cream versus Gay Wine


Consumer-trends newsletter Springwise illuminates the far corners of the retail imagination, with weekly updates on new business schemes from the socially conscious to the absurdly decadent. In the latter category, this week, we have Sex Pistol Ice Cream, a British dessert shop’s latest plan to pitch this girlie comfort food to the male “members” of the species. The limited-edition flavor is “touted to have the same charge as a dose of Viagra”:

Mixed into the frozen treat are ginkgo biloba, arginine and guarana—all guaranteed to increase blood flow and energy level. Before serving, The Sex Pistol is doused in La Fee Absinthe. And since presentation is key, the absinthe is administered from a drip bag into a pink water gun and fired at a heated sugar cube, which drops into the ice cream. The Sex Pistol is deemed so potent that sales are limited to one per customer, although at GBP 11.99 customers might prefer to split one with a special friend.

If you’d rather heat up than cool down, never fear. From the same newsletter, we get UO! Wines, a Spanish wine brand targeted at gay men:

UO! Ánima Blanca, for example, is a Sauvignon Blanc and Verdejo blend featuring earth tones and “wisps of flowers and fruit – the perfect accompaniment to a gathering of friends on a hot day, whether the heat comes from within or without.” Antinoo, meanwhile, is a Monastrell that’s “young and mature, fruity, elegant, smooth….Mediterranean…. When you try it, shut your eyes and imagine that you are licking rivulets of syrup from his body,” the company advises. Rounding out the line is Oscura Lágrima, a Shiraz and Merlot blend that’s “dark, dense and turbulent.”

Whew. With ad copy like this, who needs Viagra sundaes?
 

Saturday Not-So-Random Song: Joan Baez, “Virgin Mary”


Today, Aug. 15, is the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Catholic tradition holds that the mother of Jesus ascended bodily into heaven at the end of her life, without dying (like Elijah in the Old Testament). While this isn’t an official Episcopalian doctrine, we still celebrate today as the Virgin Mary’s feast day in the saints’ calendar. Here, James Kiefer at The Daily Office explains the significance of the Virgin Birth:

Besides Jesus himself, only two humans are mentioned by name in the Creeds. One is Pontius Pilate, Roman procurator of Judea from 26 to 36 AD. That Jesus was crucified by order of Pontius Pilate pins down the date of his death within a few years, and certifies that we are not talking, like the worshippers of Tammuz or Adonis, about a personification or symbol of the annual death and resurrection of the crops. His death is an event in history, something that really happened. The other name is that of Mary. The Creeds say that Christ was “born of the virgin Mary.” That is to say, they assert on the one hand that he was truly and fully human, born of a woman and not descended from the skies like an angel. On the other hand, by telling us that his mother was a virgin they exclude the theory that he was simply an ordinary man who was so virtuous that he eventually, at his baptism, became filled with the Spirit of God. His virgin birth attests to the fact that he was always more than merely human, always one whose presence among us was in itself a miracle, from the first moment of his earthly existence. In Mary, Virgin and Mother, God gives us a sign that Jesus is both truly God and truly Man.

Marian doctrines and legends can be a sticking point for modern Christians. Personally, I enjoy believing that I live in the kind of universe where a virgin birth could happen, but Mary’s significance for me goes beyond this story. She’s been a personally comforting presence for me when I needed to experience the maternal side of the divine.

Mary is Woman in a complex and uncategorizable way. Nowadays many think of virginity as a stifling ideal (and certainly Mary has been deployed by the church to stigmatize female sexuality), but in Biblical times, when women were men’s property, the power to say “no” to sex was a proto-feminist act. The early female martyrs’ refusal to marry was their way of declaring allegiance to something higher than the social order; their lives, they asserted, had a value beyond the price that their fathers and husbands had set on them. Yet Mary is also a mother, reminding us that the gift of life occurs in the flesh as well as the spirit. By containing contradictory functions within herself, she represents womanhood as not reducible to any one of them.

Enjoy this recording of Joan Baez singing the traditional folk song “Virgin Mary had one son”, from a 1977 concert:

Virgin Mary had a one son,
Oh, glory halleluja,
Oh, pretty little baby,
Glory be to the new born King.

Well, Mary how you call that pretty little baby,
Oh, pretty little baby,
Oh, pretty little baby,
Glory be to the new born King.

Well, some call Him Jesus, think I’ll call Him Savior
Oh, I think I’ll call Him Savior
Oh, I think I’ll call Him Savior,
Glory be to the new born King.

Riding from the East there came three wise man,
Oh, came three wise man,
Oh, came three wise man,
Glory to be the new born King.

Said, Follow that star, you’ll surely find the baby,
Oh, surely find the baby,
Oh, surely find the baby,
Glory be to the new born King.

Well, the Virgin Mary had a one son, etc.

(Lyrics courtesy of UULyrics.com)

Lean (Not?) on Your Own Understanding


John at Johnny’s Blog emailed me a thoughtful response to my recent post on balancing the authority of Scripture, tradition, and reason. I’ve quoted it below since comments are turned off:

What a fascinating article – it really made me think. I however keep on coming back to two particular verses which I find difficult to interpret in any other way than the straight forward meaning of the words.

The first is in Proverbs – Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. (3:5)

The second is in 2 Tim 3:16 – All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

In the first case, it seems to definitely place human reason on a lower wrung, so to speak. In regard to the second – and other verses that refer to the Scriptures as “The Word of God,” – it would seem to me that it places Scripture (in terms of our understanding God’s will) as the ultimate and final authority. Even given these verses, the believer is faced with a conundrum, in fact a few conundrums – firstly – what constitutes Scripture, and secondly, even if we can all agree on what constitutes Scripture – how are these scriptures to be interpreted.

I had a discussion the other day with a friend with regard to the concept and word trinity. He quite rightly stated that the word ‘trinity’ does not appear in any scripture and is – to that extent Tradition rather that the Word of God. He preferred to use the word Godhead. I stated that the word Godhead was not in scripture – He quickly responded with three verses where the word “Godhead” does appear in certain English versions. I pointed out to him that the word is a translation of a word that is various translated as divinity or “God-ness” – and as such the word Godhead was in itself an effort to describe something that does not really translate well into a single English word. Suffice to say that the concept of a Godhead, exists in scripture, as does, the concept of Trinity – in fact – it not unreasonable to say that in fact “Godhead” and Trinity are really two sides of the same coin.

As I wrote in my blog post “XII Angry Men” – it becomes a question as to what qualifies an individual to be the authoritative interpreter of Scripture – we can look at a very many issues in the history of Church – the whole predestination verses freewill, baptism issues, issues about the meaning of communion (This is my body, this is my blood), to say nothing about the whole creation versus evolution debate, and debate regarding very ethical issues that challenge people today.

The conclusion I came to is that each individual must a) be willing to hear/read ALL sides of the discussion (I think many Christians fall down on this aspect), and then b) reach a conclusion that he or she can be satisfied is correct or justified and act accordingly. c) realise that people with strong opinions that differ with the stance taken by the individual may give fierce, even vociferous opposition, and may even call into question the person’s relationship with God, and d) must realise that it is possible that something may occur in the future which will unequivocally show that the wrong decision was arrived at, and at that point be willing to say, I was wrong, please forgive me. (This is not a defeatist point of view – simply being realistic. )

What I do believe as a thorough going evangelical protestant, is that no one gets into heaven, or is denied salvation on the strength of his or her right theology, as it is the Work of Christ on the Cross, that accomplished our salvation, and we play no part in that. We, are like the audience who stand back in wonder as God did it all. If I have wrong theology – as no doubt, I have somewhere along the line, The Lord will graciously point it out and still I will be his child.

I recommend the “XII Angry Men” post for a more detailed look at how to read Scripture with humility and awareness of multiple perspectives. I’m going to push back a little, though, against John’s use of the Proverbs and Timothy verses, because I’m not totally convinced that they’re really meant to address the question at hand.

“All Scripture is God-breathed.” First of all, what is Scripture? Can it be self-authenticating? In other words, the author of 2 Timothy is making a claim for the authority of Scripture, but it’s circular reasoning for us to prefer this claim over others solely because it’s in Scripture: “The Bible is true because the Bible says so.” Furthermore, by “Scripture” the epistle-writer would have meant the Hebrew Bible. We can’t assume that he knew that he himself was writing Scripture!

“God-breathed” is also capable of a broader meaning than “inerrant”, as John would appear to agree. A friend of mine has suggested that divine inspiration means “every word in the Bible is how God intended it to be”. Thus, for instance, the six-day creation story can be divinely inspired without needing to be literally, scientifically true; God put that in there to teach us about something other than science.

Could the second half of that quote from 2 Timothy give us some better guidance about the uses and meanings of Scripture? That is to say, look at the real-world consequences of your preferred interpretation and see whether it has proven itself useful, or counterproductive, for “training in righteousness” and equipping the hearer for “every good work”.

I’m not sure why we’re so eager to decide spiritual matters based on a priori logic. When it does touch on questions of hermeneutics, the Bible seems to me to have a stronger pragmatic streak than many of its conservative fans.

“Lean not on your own understanding.” As I’ve argued ad infinitum in this space, all knowledge of God (or of anything else) is filtered through some individual’s consciousness. It’s psychologically incoherent to trust God without relying on our own understanding–either our direct experience of God, or our perception that others are trustworthy sources of spiritual knowledge. So I don’t think this verse is referring to that epistemological problem at all. Besides which, the verse says “trust in the Lord“, not “in Scripture” nor “in the religious authorities”.

The author of Proverbs, I believe, is simply reminding us that God’s intentions toward us are steadfast, and His knowledge of our situation surpasses our own. In times of crisis, we may not see the way forward because “our own understanding” is limited, and so our hope rests in the one who promises that “all things work together for good to those who love God” (Rom 8:28).

I have experienced the fulfillment of that promise in my own life, and I am working hard to keep that memory alive despite bitterness about how Christians have used Scripture to abuse vulnerable people and drive them to despair. Leaning only on my own understanding–my experience of hard-heartedness among those who are thoroughly schooled in Scripture–I might venture down the well-trodden path of rejecting Bible, creed, and church. God has been good enough to save me from self-hatred and emotional breakdown at several key points in my life, so that I might have the fidelity to say “No–I will not let Pharisees capture the name of ‘Christian’ and define you in ways that are less loving than what I have experienced.” It’s not theology that leads me forward; I know this in my heart and I struggle to find arguments that will give me permission to know what I know.

Am I trusting God, or leaning on my own understanding? In the healthy life of faith, I believe, these two are one and the same.

Against Sincerity


Journaling about some difficult family memories last year, I wrote, “I became a poet so that I could tell the truth without being understood.” I hadn’t ever realized this until I wrote it down; apparently, transparency is a privilege I don’t always grant to myself, let alone other people.

Although Eve Tushnet and I disagree on what the Bible requires of gay Christians, I love how she has retained the queer sensibility, with all its outsider wit and willingness to embrace psychological extremes. The hunger for normalcy, for invisibility after a lifetime of persecution, leads far more “ex-gays” to go along with the cultural assimilation program of conservative churches, giving up not only the genital expression of their sexuality but an entire way of seeing the world from a marginalized and ironic perspective. Maybe Eve resists this pressure because, well, Catholics just have more style than evangelicals.

Anyhow, this is not yet another GLBT rant but an excuse to quote Eve’s awesome lines from this August 3rd post critiquing the aesthetic of “sincerism”:  

It’s the privilege of those whose beliefs are basically mainstream to think that “realism” and sincerity are good ways of conveying the truth. Only those whose experiences and interpretations line up with mainstream culture can be guaranteed that their sincere heart-baring tales will be believed; and they’re the ones for whom this language of sincerity was made.

I could explain the relevance to my life but…that would be too sincere. Instead, here’s a poem from my chapbook Swallow, forthcoming this fall from Amsterdam Press.

How to Fail a Personality Test

That’s an ink blot. Too literal.

I know, it’s not actually an ink blot. There’s no ink
    on it, now, is there?

It’s a photograph of an ink blot. That’s what it
    signifies. What Derrida might have called the
    absent present. Or was it the poison Gift?

No, I’ve never been tempted to drink household
    cleansers.

You want me to say that one’s a bat, don’t you?
    I know, I saw it on Wikipedia.

But I think it’s a pelvis. That’s the tailbone. Oh, I’m
     sorry — looks like.

Because we don’t really have tails.

You’re the one showing me pictures of dead
    people. Ha ha.

All right, it’s a bat. Does that make me
    homosexual?

I just figured, with the velvet cape and all.

Everybody says that.

I could flip this one upside-down. Do you think
    it would enjoy that?

Oh come on, don’t tell me you’ve never apologized
    to a chair for walking into it.

Yes, it is all about me. That one’s a crab.

Why take longer to look for something that’s
    not there?

I could wait for the stain on the ceiling to spread a
    map over my day.

Did you know they sell a stencil to burn the Virgin
    Mary onto your toast? I mean, why this picture?

I could name the clouds until a white horse
    stopped for me.

But we all have a job to do.

A crab in a lace mantilla shaking a popsicle stick.
    But all you say is Hmm.

I think that’s very sad.

Scripture, Tradition, and…?


Anglicans’ faith is said to rest on the “three-legged stool” of Scripture, Tradition, and Reason. In a recent discussion on the Creedal Christian blog (one of the few places in the blogosphere where gay-affirming and traditionalist Anglicans can carry on a civil and sophisticated dialogue), one commenter sought understanding and advice for Christians who may be convinced of the pro-gay position according to reason, but can’t find warrant for it in Scripture and tradition.

I’m not going to try to answer that question here. Rather, I would like to explore some ways in which this whole debate has made me doubt my old assumptions about Scripture. Consider the following ideas not as the ex cathedra pronouncement of Reiter’s Block but as experiments in finding a way forward.

Power in the New Testament

The human understanding of power is antagonistic and zero-sum–what James Alison would call “over-against another”. We keep reverting to this understanding, even within the church, despite what I see as the strong message of the New Testament that God’s idea of power is wholly different.

Jesus appropriated Roman imperial rhetoric in an ironic, subversive way. “King of kings” and “son of God” were titles belonging to Caesar. The “kingdom of heaven”, unlike the kingdoms of earth, is best understood by looking at the lowliest things, from a mustard seed to a beggar, and seeing the infinite riches they contain.

If one believes that God revealed His true nature in Jesus, by becoming human and dying on a cross, think about what this means for the definition of power. No one is more powerful than God. But when He wanted to show us what was most essential about Himself, He became a vulnerable and marginalized human being–a peasant baby born to an unwed mother–and then submitted to an ignominious death at the hands of secular and religious authorities whose power was based on violence, exclusion, fear and pride. By rising from the dead, He showed that the power of self-giving love is ultimately more real than the power of domination.

While the picture is more complex in the Epistles, I believe they also support this view, on the whole. At times, Paul and the other authors seem to be encouraging Christians to accept existing social hierarchies, so as not to provoke unnecessary conflicts. Anyone whose way of life challenges mainstream cultural values must make careful moment-by-moment decisions about how to balance the imperatives of peace and justice. Impatience for change can make us prideful and unkind to those who don’t see what we see; on the other hand, conflict-avoidance isn’t always the most loving course of action.

But overall, when Paul is not dispensing merely pragmatic advice but talking about spiritual fundamentals, he often returns to the theme of mutual submission, in personal relationships and also within the church. And he relates this ideal to Christ’s self-emptying in the Incarnation:

1If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. 3Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. 4Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

5Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
6Who, being in very nature[a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
7but made himself nothing,
    taking the very nature[b] of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
8And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
9Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
    and gave him the name that is above every name,
10that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

12Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, 13for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. (Phil 2:1-13, NIV)

The doctrine of the Trinity is not fully worked out in the Bible, but within the first few centuries of the early church, Christians were developing the idea of perichoresis–God’s very nature as a dance of loving, reciprocal submission. (Buy the book from the 2008 Wheaton College conference to read excellent essays on this and other Trinitarian concepts.)

Scripture’s “Authority”?

Returning to our opening question of Anglican Biblical hermeneutics, it seems to me that the debate nearly always relapses into the human understanding of power. We treat “Scripture, Tradition, and Reason” like “Rock, Paper, Scissors”–which one “beats” the other?

I am still searching for a better alternative, but I believe there is one. Much as it would be nice and simple to pretend otherwise, the three voices in this conversation don’t always agree neatly. I just sense that something’s wrong with the way we play them off against one another. Those who always come down on the side of Scripture or tradition may do violence to the facts of a changing world (not to mention the people living in it), whereas those who brag about unfettered reason can be hurtful and dismissive toward Christians who have experienced the Bible and the church as life-saving.

Would it be so wrong (warning: this is where I really drive the bus off-road) to work out a model of cooperation and mutual deference among the three authorities? In other words:

Why must Scripture always win?

(Substitute “Tradition” if you’re a neo-conservative Catholic and “Reason” if you’re a liberal-modernist Protestant, and resume being infuriated.)

First-Hand and Second-Hand Knowledge

Psychologically speaking, Scripture and Tradition are second-hand sources of knowledge about God. They are the record of how God has communicated with other human beings. If we understand “Reason” broadly as the independent judgment of the individual Christian, encompassing emotional and experiential knowledge as well as intellectual understanding, we can see that it adds an element not found in the other two: how God personally and directly speaks to me.

That God does speak to me, without requiring permission or mediation from other humans, is the promise I’m given by my justification in Christ. His gracious forgiveness has set me free to trust myself, not because I will always be right, but because I must live obediently the life I’ve been given and the perspective that arises from it, leaving the final verdict up to Him. I don’t need to hide in the herd. Their assent or dissent adds nothing to whether God will forgive me for getting His intentions wrong–which is always a possibility, whether we are on our own or part of a collective.

“Reason” could also be understood as the present-day response of the church to changing factual conditions or information that was not available when the Scriptures or traditions were being formed. Reason is the ability to process information outside of “Christianity” that is nonetheless pa
rt of God’s creation: biology, history, psychology, and the facts to which these disciplines are applied. It balances timeless revelations and past wisdom with open-minded awareness of the present. It reminds us of our ongoing responsibility to interpret God’s word, and our concomitant need for His mercy because of the fallibility of our interpretations. Grace, too, risks becoming merely second-hand information if we have never felt the awful weight of that responsibility.

Taken alone, reason-worship can degenerate into pure individualism and trend-following in a culture already inclined in that direction. Scripture and tradition (Chesterton’s “democracy of the dead”) remind us that our faith is part of a fellowship that spans geography and time. The consciousness of the individual is never a purely autonomous creation; it picks up its structures of thought from the contemporary community, though critical reflection can reshape the given framework up to a point. Scripture and tradition help ensure that when we do rely on second-hand knowledge, we’re resting on Christian ideas rather than unexamined values and assumptions from an antithetical culture.

Science provides a good model of how first-hand and second-hand knowledge cooperate in the search for truth. Science moves forward by direct experimental observation. However, the backdrop for any experiment is a vast body of other knowledge, not directly observed by this individual scientist, which enables her to frame the hypothesis and understand what would prove or disprove it. She takes this knowledge on “faith” in the sense that she has good reason to believe that her predecessors’ observations were reliable, and it would be impossible for her to test them all first-hand. At the same time, there is the chance that her experiment will expose a flaw in the original “tradition” and prompt its revision.

Such an event does not call into question the entire practice of relying on others’ scientific conclusions; it is, in fact, the way those conclusions themselves were generated. In a sense, the practice of science is one of Christlike humility and gracious boldness. The scientist submits to the discipline of her tradition in order to ask a meaningful question in the first place, but shows no disrespect by improving past knowledge in a way that is broadly consistent with that discipline. She, in turn, knows that her achievement is not a once-for-all monument to her ego, but an invitation to future scientists to improve upon it further. (Thanks to Prof. Larry Alexander’s law review article “Liberalism, Religion, and the Unity of Epistemology,” 30 San Diego L. Rev. 763 (1993) for some of these ideas about the philosophy of science.)

This brings me back to my original question: why must we assume that Scripture’s “authority” depends on never deferring to or being influenced by the other two? Must we always prefer second-hand knowledge of God’s will?

To say yes, it seems to me, is to act as if God’s grace is merely formal–as if my mind is still darkened and my will still depraved, but God accepts the “legal fiction” of my righteousness thanks to Christ. I know a lot of Protestants believe this, but it’s logically incoherent, because Scripture always requires interpretation, and to mistrust one’s self simply means to trust other, equally depraved humans. (For a truly slam-dunk explanation of this point, read the philosopher Eric Reitan’s “authority without inerrancy” blog post series, particularly this one.

Beyond a Hermeneutics of Patriarchy?

Pushing the Trinitarian analogy a bit more, let’s assume that Scripture is like the Father, the prime authority. Nonetheless, when we defend Scripture against contradiction or reinterpretation from outside sources, aren’t we really acting more like a defensive human father–the elite men of priesthood and empire who saw their prerogatives threatened by the radically egalitarian Jesus movement? And might not this insistence on Scripture’s impermeability–I would even say, impenetrability–be more than coincidentally related to the fear of submission and penetration, the loss of the traditionally dominant male identity, that has always fueled homophobia?

Christianity messes with physical and social boundaries in ways that Christians have never quite found comfortable. The Lord of the universe took the form of a slave. While on earth, he continually overrode purity laws to show that social order was not as important as extending healing, economic justice, and God’s love to all. Where Jesus does speak as a rigorous and passionate moralist, his temper is always exercised about actual harms to others. I can’t recall a place where he treats obedience to authority and tradition as an end in itself. I’m sure he never views rule-breaking as a sin so great that in order to avoid it, we can ignore the suffering of our neighbor–even when the rule seems to come from Scripture.

And now, of course, we eat the flesh of this Lord and Father and drink His blood, a sensual ritual that combines destruction and healing, the ultimate reciprocal exchange of power. God trusts us enough to be consumed and transformed by us. Why should the Bible be afraid of us, when He isn’t?


James Baldwin Asks: Who’s Tolerating Whom?


Legendary African-American writer James Baldwin’s 1963 essay “My Dungeon Shook: A Letter to my Nephew on the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Emancipation” is a brilliantly subversive exploration of internalized prejudice and the rhetoric of “inclusion”. (Thanks to the magazine The Sun for reprinting this essay in a recent issue, where I read it for the first time.)

Dismantling the official institutions of discrimination is only the first phase of the struggle, Baldwin argues. Full equality is impossible without reexamining the very structures of our psyches and seeing how they have been formed by the ideology of racial inferiority. This may require us to exist for some time in a state of groundlessness and fear, because we no longer know who we are. In a masterful reversal of the typical dynamic of “toleration”, Baldwin says that it is actually the oppressive majority who needs the minority’s compassion as they struggle with the loss of their old identity.

Since Baldwin was also a gay man who suffered from homophobia, even within the black activist community, I hope he would not mind my suggesting the obvious analogy to gay people’s struggle for acceptance in the church and society. Imagine the Anglican breakaway churches as your “lost, younger brothers” while reading this excerpt (I’ve added paragraph breaks to make it easier to read online):

You were born where you were born and faced the future that you faced because you were black and for no other reason. The limits of your ambition were, thus, expected to be set forever. You were born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible, that you were a worthless human being. You were not expected to aspire to excellence: you were expected to make peace with mediocrity. Wherever you have turned, James, in your short time on this earth, you have been told where you could go and what you could do (and how you could do it) and where you could live and whom you could marry.

I know your countrymen do not agree with me about this, and I hear them saying, “You exaggerate’ ” They do not know Harlem, and I do. So do you. Take no one’s word for anything, including mine-but trust your experience. Know whence you came. If you know whence you came, there is really no limit to where you can go. The details and symbols of your life have been deliberately constructed to make you believe what white people say about you. Please try to remember that what they believe, as well as what they do and cause you to endure, does not testify to your inferiority but to their inhumanity and fear.

Please try to be clear, dear James, through the storm which rages about your youthful head today, about the reality which lies behind the words acceptance and integration. There is no reason for you to try to become like white people and there is no basis whatever for their impertinent assumption that they must accept you. The really terrible thing, old buddy, is that you must accept them.

And I mean that very seriously. You must accept them and accept them with love. For these innocent people have no other hope. They are, in effect, still trapped in a history which they do not understand; and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it. They have had to believe for many years, and for innumerable reasons, that black men are inferior to white men. Many of them, indeed, know better, but, as you will discover, people find it very difficult to act on what they know. To act is to be committed, and to be committed is to be in danger. In this case, the danger, in the minds of most white Americans, is the loss of their identity. Try to imagine how you would feel if you woke up one morning to find the sun shining and all the stars aflame. You would be frightened because it is out of the order of nature. Any upheaval in the universe is terrifying because it so profoundly attacks one’s sense of one’s own reality.

Well, the black man has functioned in the white man’s world as a fixed star, as an immovable pillar: and as he moves out of his place, heaven and earth are shaken to their foundations. You, don’t be afraid. I said that it was intended that you should perish in the ghetto, perish by never being allowed to go behind the white man’s definitions, by never being allowed to spell your proper name. You have, and many of us have, defeated this intention; and by a terrible law, a terrible paradox, those innocents who believed that your imprisonment made them safe are losing their grasp of reality. But these men are your brothers–your lost, younger brothers. And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it.

Read the whole essay here.

Tracy Koretsky: “Pietà”

    
Tracy Koretsky is a poet, novelist, and literary critic who has won over 50 awards, including three Pushcart Prize nominations. Later this fall, she’ll be taking over my poetry critique column in the Winning Writers newsletter (subscribe free). I’ve long been a fan of her novel Ropeless, a comic, poignant story about an old-fashioned Jewish mama, her mentally disabled son, and a dutiful daughter learning to follow her dreams.

Tracy’s poetry collection Even Before My Own Name is now available for downloading as a free e-book in PDF format. Visit her website to order a copy. She kindly shares this poem from the book below.

Pietà

Just before the end we watched you there,
    stretched out
across your mama’s lap, her strong young man,
    silent, cold;

your eyes closed. I leaned toward the screen when
    they showed
Mary’s face, all the sorrow in the world in them
    stone eyes.

Newslady said some sad soul splattered red paint
    across
your chest, across your mama’s face. I wondered if

it made a tear. Said the madman tried to break you
    apart
with a hammer. Couldn’t do it though. Takes more
    than that,

I know. Don’t have to say nothing; a mother just
    knows.
So I told him he might as well fall in love with a
    rich man

as a poor one. I told him, “You be careful,” you
    know.
He promised he was. Got scared when I caught
    him

rubbing his throat. I made him see that doctor
    myself.
That doctor. Had to wear a mask and robe just to
    see my son,

had to use gloves to touch his hair, straight and
    thin like a white
boy’s. He hated to see me coming at him like that;
    he’d say, “Let me

see your face, Mama.” “No, son.” I had to say.
    Nearly broke
us both in two. So I took him home. Hospital’s no
    place for a boy

to die. Quit my job, brought him cookies. He’d eat
    bag after bag;
always offer me some. I wasn’t sure, but I ate
    anyway. Then

my boy would groan and curl. I knew what I had to
    do. Roll him
over, untape the padding, soak the rag in the
    bucket, wring it,

wring it, pat on the powder with my gloved hand,
    saying “Never
you mind, son.”          My  son.

If your Mama didn’t shed no tears it was ’cause
    she never had to
powder your thirty-year-old bottom. Oh, I know
    you got your

reasons, ain’t for me to question in this life, but as
    a mother,
you know, I gotta say: You wanted my boy, Lord?
    Then

you hold him near. You let his pretty voice rise up
    in your choir.
You greedy for my boy, Lord? So bad you couldn’t
    wait

just thirty years? Then tell your mama to touch his
    hair without
gloves, Lord, without masks. I never got to hold
    my baby

cool across my lap. Mortician made me pay extra
    just to clean
him. Now, before you go and listen to someone
    else’s troubles

I want to say I saw that statue again: on a card at
    the Well-Mart.
Opened it real fast. It said nothing, just…nothing. I
    took it home.

Put it in his drawer, under the paper. Put a lock
on the door so I can sleep nights. Sometimes I
    wonder

if they got the thing cleaned off. I dream of rags in
    buckets
of red, Mary’s stone hand wringing          wringing.