peregrinato

I have wandered...

2005-04-27T12:28:00.000-04:00

over to peregrinato.com ...

I will keep this site but will no longer be adding to it. I have migrated most of my postings and the majority of responses to the new site.

Please join me in my new home, which I hope will be fairly stable.

The New Website...

2005-04-24T13:48:00.000-04:00

Well, peregrinato.com is slowly shaping up. Aesthetics are almost there (unless I decide to do a late-night redesign), but I still have to migrate this blog over...

Habemus Papam: We Have a Pope

2005-04-20T00:31:00.000-04:00

Preface: I thought against writing this. Not because I didn’t feel called to speak on the issue, but because I have Church History readings to complete and I am very far behind. Who has time to blog? But as I thought about it further I realized that this is the perfect time to blog, that I have the chance to engage with history as it is being made, to reflect on what is happening. With that said, I’d like to offer an extended reflection on Ratzinger’s election to leadership of the Catholic Church.

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Cardinal Bishop of Surburbicarian Sees of Ostia and Velletri-Segni, and prior Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, was named Pope by the College of Cardinals today. He has taken the name Benedict (XVI), and is the first German pontiff since the 11th century.

I was raised Catholic, so the issue has some personal relevance to me; I’ve long argued that there is a certain sociology and psychology to being raised Catholic that is hard to move away from. I’ve long ago left the Roman Catholic Church, but my spiritual roots lie in Catholicism. And as a seminarian, a budding religionist, the issue of the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church should have some professional interest to me as well. Beyond those areas of familiarity, though, I am not necessarily qualified to speak with authority on this issue; I only marginally followed Ratzinger’s career, and issues of Catholic ecclesiology or polity are beyond my scope.

To be sure, I am distressed that Ratzinger is the new pope; distressed, but hardly surprised. Pope John Paul II has been naming conservative cardinals for over two decades, and at the same time, dismissing and silencing theologians whose voices were too liberal or progressive for him. The college of cardinals is not a random sampling of theological persuasions, and the pool was skewed toward the right.

The man who has been chosen was not merely a conservative cardinal; John Paul II’s right-hand man (no need to use inclusive language here), the enforcer of Catholic orthodox doctrine. In fact, as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF)—the institutional descendent of the Inquisition—Ratzinger has officially weighed down heavily on the many issues of importance to me, to liberal Catholics, and to those Catholics who have personally suffered from repressive orthodoxy.

Take, for example, his view on Catholic voters:

A Catholic would be guilty of formal cooperation in evil, and so unworthy to present himself for holy Communion, if he were to deliberately vote for a candidate precisely because of the candidate's permissive stand on abortion and/or euthanasia. When a Catholic does not share a candidate's stand in favor of abortion and/or euthanasia, but votes for that candidate for other reasons, it is considered remote material cooperation, which can be permitted in the presence of proportionate reasons.

(2004 memorandum to Cardinal Theodore E. McCarrick of Washington, D.C.)

So much for freedom of conscience.

But before I can bemoan too loudly the new pope, let's look at the realities. There wasn’t going to be any other kind of pope.

Even the talk of the possibility of a pope from Central America or Africa wasn’t going to give us a theological progressive. Sure, we might've ended up with a non-European, and multi-culti Peregrinato rejoices in that prospect. But like I said: JPII has been “stacking the deck” with his conservative cardinals from early on; liberation theologians (those who identify the struggle of the poor against oppression as intrinsic to the Gospel) have been silenced, and the religious leaders--not just the Roman Catholic cardinals-- from the southern hemisphere are conservative across the board. The same is true with the Anglican communion.

And consider the following from the Christian Science Monitor:

"I thought it would be him," said Georges Barimousirwe, a Catholic seminarian visiting Rome from Congo. "He is very severe; we need a man who can put the church back into its place."

True, this is one quote, but I'm going to submit that it is representative of the theological ethos south of the equator. Philip Jenkins wrote about this global theological shift in "The Next Christianity":

In the global South (the areas that we often think of primarily as the Third World) huge and growing Christian populations — currently 480 million in Latin America, 360 million in Africa, and 313 million in Asia, compared with 260 million in North America — now make up what the Catholic scholar Walbert Buhlmann has called the Third Church, a form of Christianity as distinct as Protestantism or Orthodoxy, and one that is likely to become dominant in the faith. The revolution taking place in Africa, Asia, and Latin America is far more sweeping in its implications than any current shifts in North American religion, whether Catholic or Protestant. There is increasing tension between what one might call a liberal Northern Reformation and the surging Southern religious revolution... (The Atlantic vol 290, no. 3, Oct. 2002)

Were people really expecting anything different? A person of color is not necessarily a liberal. An African pope would quite possibly give us a different cultural perspective, but his theology would still have been theologically conservative, and doctrinally ultra-orthodox. (Let's remember that St Augustine of Hippo was, in fact, from North Africa, and this Carthaginian Bishop shaped Christian theology for centuries.)

And, also to the point: This is not a step backward. Ratzinger--pardon me, Benedict XVI--wil be following the footsteps of JPII. It is not like the Church has lost a pioneering crusader for theological reform, another John XXIII. It will be more of the same, a continuation of the old policy that has alienated Catholics, driven some from the Church, and driven many away from a life of faith entirely.

This is where the Church was heading. No one can be surprised.

I feel obligated to end on something other than pure gloom. In doing some research, I learned that--according to one vegetarian website, at least--Ratzinger is quoted as saying:

That is a very serious question. At any rate, we can see that they are given into our care, that we cannot just do whatever we want with them. Animals, too, are God's creatures . . . Certainly, a sort of industrial use of creatures, so that geese are fed in such a way as to produce as large a liver as possible, or hens live so packed together that they become just caricatures of birds, this degrading of living creatures to a commodity seems to me in fact to contradict the relationship of mutuality that comes across in the Bible.

What’s my point? That the Inquisitor-turned-Pope is really a good guy because he cares about the bunnies? That this makes up for his gays-are-evil stance? Not at all.

But it does help me to find something of virtue in him, something I can connect with and say that his theology is not absolutely bankrupt. Certainly, as the defender of orthodoxy, he has spoken vehemently against things of vital importance to me—gay rights, gay marriage, the ordination of women, and so on. Hell, he even opposed Turkey's joining the European Union. (No room for a Muslim country in Christian Europe.) But seeing this, I have to recognize and accept that his theology is complex and not one-sided, and as such is one of many faithful representations of the spectrum of Catholic theology. There's still some room for grace in there.

There's no telling what the future holds for the pontiff or the Church. I'm not a soothsayer, and I'm not a skilled enough interpreter of Catholicism to discern a trajectory out of what happens here. I can only hope and pray that Benedict XVI exercises wise pastoral leadership--for his sake, and for the sake of the many Catholics whose lives he will have an impact on.

For now, I can only look at this situation the way I look at any challenging situation in life: I expect the worse; but I also hope for the best. And reality will probably be somewhere in between.

Pax vobiscum.

Inquisitor named Pope

2005-04-19T12:51:00.000-04:00

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Cardinal Bishop of Surburbicarian Sees of Ostia and Velletri-Segni, and prior Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith*, was named Pope by the College of Cardinals today. He has taken the name Benedict.

For those hoping for progress and reform of the Roman Catholic Church: keep hoping:

He was also strictly traditional on issues of sexuality and the role of women in the church, which won him support among some Catholics but alienated others. Similar disagreement exists over the next pontiff's stances on issues such as birth control, stem cell research and the ordination of female priests. (CNN, 4/19/2005)

Unless he pulls a surprising John XXIII on the Church, don't expect much progress.

*It is worth mentioning that the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith was founded in 1542 and known as the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition. (Yes, *that* Inquisition. It just changed names in 1908.) Oh well... at least he thought the Church should apologize for the execution of Giordano Bruno.

peregrinato's logo?

2005-04-18T00:30:00.000-04:00

Working on designs for www.peregrinato.com, specifically the logo/header.

I've liked the Aquiline typeface ever since I saw it. When I began playing with logos, there was something about the P on it that screamed to make it a chalice. Funny that--I accept the chalice as the denominational logo of the association, and I recognize it is a part of much UU visual proclamation and ritual (though not at my church); but I've never been very chalicocentric. (Yes, I'm making up words.) I'm certainly not opposed to it, don't get me wrong. But I saw the P in this font, thought "chalice" and went with it. Also, I'll add..the flame for me is more about Holy Wisdom, Sophia, and maybe I'm just in a pentecostal kinda mood.

Comments welcome.

Update: looks like this (or a subtle variation) will be what I'm using on peregrinato.com, with just the single "P" for a square avatar.

"Linguistic Profile"

2005-04-17T01:46:00.000-04:00

via Terrance

Your Linguistic Profile:

45% General American English

30% Yankee

20% Dixie

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Unitarian Universalist Pneumatology

2005-04-16T20:02:00.000-04:00

Just musing here, and noting a direction for future reading and reflection.

In today's class (Foundations of Christian Spirituality) we discussed charistmatic and pentecostalist spirituality, and there were guest speakers in class, two African pentcostostalists. The liberal Christian in me balked at some of the assertions, but I was intruiged by a major premise: that the Christian believer is marked by a relationship with the Holy Spirit; that the Holy Spirit is neither "the Force", some impersonal abstrace energy, or some esoteric power of 2000 years ago, but is the living presence of God. To have this relationship, one would be on fire and empowered. And the worship that accompanied this proclamation was very charismatic: the Holy Spirit was invited into the room, healing was prayed for--it was dramatic, and emotional, and not the philosophical, emotionless-to-the-point-of-dour worship that would befit the descendents of the Puritans. (Look, I've been to larger gatherings, and sometimes there is life and energy, but sometime's its on the level of a Donny & Marie concert.) If you don't know what I'm talking about, perform a sociological experiment: go to a charismatic worship service, and for a short time turn off your theological filters. Just observe the emotional investment in the two types of worship. You'll understand the difference. Do we need to turn off our heart to engage our mind?

But that is a major digression.

The real point is that I began to think about UU pneumatology. Is there one? I might suggest that there isn't a clearly defined theology of the holy spirit, but the Holy Spirit might really be the only survivor of the Trinity in Unitarian theology. This is really a draft of an idea and not a full-fledged paper, but I can't quite get away from this thought. Are UUs really closet pneumatologists?

Many UUs do not resonate with God the Father. Some decry patriarchal language; for some, the image merely conjures the bearded old man ready to smite anyone who angers him. ("Don't eat from that tree!"). Even many theist UUs won't dwell on "God the Father" but will talk about the Creator, the Holy One, and might alternate between male/female language.

A great number of UUs certainly do not resonate with the Son. Some will accept the prophetic teachings of Jesus, and some will actively embrace them. (The well-worn, "religion of Jesus, not about him" comes to mind here.) Some will toss the entire person out because of wounding by institutional Christianity. Many will come to their own unique theology of who the figure of Jesus is. There is a constant re-evaluation of the figure of Jesus for religious liberals. (And we're still talking about Jesus here, not even the Logos.)

What about the Holy Spirit? UUs don't really talk much about the Holy Spirit, but Spirit-language is often the safest theological language to use:

Spirit of life, come unto me. Sing in my heart
all the stirrings of compassion. Blow in the
wind, rise in the sea; move in the hand, giving
life the shape of justice. Roots hold me close; wings set me
free. Spirit of life, come unto me, come unto me.
(Spirit of Life, hymn 123 in Singing the Living Tradition)

Is there such a thing as a UU pneumatology? There isn't much literature on it that I'm aware of. There is the following from Kate Erslev's UU Identity (2003), a small group ministry resource for young adults:

UU Pneumatology: Going Outside to Feel the Wind and the Sun
For UU’s, we might describe “spirit” as the immediate presence of the Spirit of Life that is in each of us and in all things. The 19th century Unitarians spoke of God as ever- present. Emerson described the “over-soul” as a sense of God as all permeating as opposed to a sovereign king, punishing father, white, abled and old. Our pneumatology is described in the first source as “That which is directly experienced, transcendent, mysterious and wonderful, in all of us.” Do we cheat our pneumatology if we are afraid to use the word “God?”

James Luther Adams has also written somewhat of pneumatology and the Age of the Spirit for religious liberals.

We should recall the elements of the conception of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament. The word pneuma denotes the rushing wind of God, manifest at Pentecost, which in immediacy gathers the ecstatic band of believers into the unity of the eschatological community of the Spirit.... As a winnowing wind, the Spirit sets aside traditional and legal authority in favor of the pneumatic authority of the apostles, prophets, and teachers. (Adams, 1991. An Examined Faith. Boston: Beacon, p. 340).

The Spirit was a key motif of the Radical Reformers, Adams continues, who

cherished the free winds of the Spirit and the inward koinonia pneumatos. All of these things are implicit in the experience of "the inner light" and in the great value placed upon voluntary individual decision.; and they provided the soil from which the associational...type of church evolved, a church that is a voluntary assocation based on personal decision... (p. 342)

Adams sees the "Age of the Spirit" as one of the first moments of liberal Christianity, with its concept of the autonomy of believers and the individual experience of the divine.

What does that leave us then? Is there a UU pnemuatology? Is it an untapped resource, or is it a vestigial theological organ? (Or am I just wrong on all accounts?) At the moment I'm inclined to wonder whether Unitarian Universalism has an implicit crypto-pneumatology that serves to unite those who consider themselves theists. (Also, what would happen to this rational faith if it tapped into some of the devotional fire of the charismatics?)

This needs some thought. I'll come back to this next year when I'm studying systematic theology...

CLARIFICATION: I have been to some emotional and spirit-filled UU worship, so I'm not trying to speak about all UU worship. I'm just talking trends and comparing norms (which are sometimes statistical fictions), and there is a real, vital energy to charismatic worship.

A sad day.

2005-04-15T22:06:00.000-04:00

From Katherine, via Scott/Boy in the Bands.

"Howard Clinebell, Jr. died this morning in Santa Barbara, CA. As we all remember, Howard was a beloved Professor of Pastoral Psychology and Counseling at CST for nearly 40 years. His life, teaching, ministry and writings have been widely read and appreciated around the globe. His Basic Types of Pastoral Care and Counseling is the most widely sold book in the field of PC & C and his Care and Counseling of the Alcoholic (based on his dissertation at Union Theological Seminary) broke new ground in the early 1960’s. Most of all, we have lost a good friend. Howard, may you rest in peace, dear friend." (William Clements, professor of pastoral counseling at Claremont School of Theology)

Sad news for the pastoral counseling community. Although Clinebell has not authored much new of late--that I'm aware of--his legacy is tremendous. He (along with Bill Clements) are among the reasons Claremont School of Theology have such a first-rate reputation for pastoral counseling. It is a school I visited last year, and I gave serious thought about transferring there. But this is about him, not me.

Rest in peace, and thank you for your contributions to the work of the Church and the community of faith.

...to the Big Time...

2005-04-12T18:35:00.000-04:00

Well, he did it again.

Terrance just had to get his blog mentioned again over at CNN. I guess the first time wasn't enough...

But seriously, good job!

I don't expect CNN will ever be reading my blog, since the path to ministry in Unitarian Universalism isn't exactly a hot topic in the US, nor are pictures of my dog, or reviews of books on prayer and spirituality. Ah well.

Peregrinato Dot Com

2005-04-11T20:56:00.000-04:00

Well, I now own www.peregrinato.com. I am puzzling over what to do with it. Current thoughts are to move my blog over to its own site and move from blog*spot's software to wordpress, which is what the Joneses are using for their blogs. Blog*spot is very good for free blogging; but I'm starting to hit its limits in terms of what I can do with it.

I'll be sure to let my two readers know what I'm doing. Whatever it is, it won't happen immediately. I have a semester to finish and sleep to catch up on.

Update: Ugh. Blogger/blog*spot does not have an export function. So once I move over to WordPress, I have to start from fresh and/or manually move each posting over. Sheesh. Hopefully I can Google something more efficient.

Avast Ye Padme Hum!

2005-04-11T17:14:00.000-04:00

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: The Cutlass of Enlightened Compassion. (Get yours.) If ye see the Buddha on the road, kill him, ye saffron-robed scallywags!

According to the schismatic First Reformed Unitarian Jihad, however, my Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Shining Fist of Compassionate Humanitarianism. (What's yours?)

If you have absolutely no clue what I'm talking about--and I'll bet you don't--please read Philocrites, "We Are Unitarian Jihad."

Read any good books lately?

2005-04-08T12:54:00.000-04:00

In a moment of bibliofrenzy, I took the MFC Reading list and turned it into a "So you'd like to..." Guide at Amazon.com.

The MFC Reading List is part and parcel of the process of becoming a minister credentialed by the Unitarian Universalist Association. In addition to the graduate theological degree, the internship, Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), &c., candidates for ministry have to complete a reading list relevent to Unitarian Universalism and liberal religion.

I've taken the MFC List and converted it into a Guide at Amazon so that other seminarians can add books to their wish lists, etc. I did it to make things easier for everyone, so it is my hope that this will actually come to some use. I realize that by patronizing Amazon.com I'm not supporting the UUA bookstore, but given the benefits of such Guides, personal Wish Lists, etc., using Amazon really seemed to be the smarter thing to do. (To be honest, I tend to prefer Overstock.com, but that's another matter entirely.)

The genesis of this project began with me turning the MFC list into a Wish List on my Amazon.com account (last night), and then realizing that my fellow UU seminarians at Wesley could benefit from it (this morning). At this point I've now realized that it could actually serve a broad community, thus my presentation to the public.

With that said, feel free to visit my Amazon.com guide, So You'd Like to... Become a Unitarian Universalist minister.

Requiescat in Pace

2005-04-04T15:39:00.000-04:00

Karol Wojtyla, known more commonly as Pope John Paul II, religious leader of the Roman Catholic church, died Saturday, 2 April 2005.

For now, I'm reading blogs and observing what's being said in the "blogosphere" regarding the man's death. It is clearly bringing up very strong reactions. See, for example, the discussion taking place over at the Republic of T (under the provocative title of Alien) or over at the Socinian.

I'll have to chew on this for a while, post a few responses to other people, and provide something a little more systematic and detailed here.

For now, I will simply refer readers (both of you) to what seems to be a promising article at The Economist, and close by echoing the words of the Rev. William Sinkford, President of the Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations:

Our hearts go out to faithful Catholics everywhere as they mourn the loss of their beloved spiritual leader. We honor the example that John Paul II set in our religiously pluralistic global community by reaching out to other faiths in a spirit of peace and reconciliation. In our still violent world, John Paul never failed to witness on behalf of the innocent victims of conflict and war. His deep compassion will serve as a lasting legacy and tribute. (Sinkford, 2005)

Peace.

To Be A Book

2005-03-31T11:17:00.000-05:00

Book meme, continued. Begun with Terrance and now moved on to others, including

Apparently there's some confusion about what it means, in the book meme, to "be a book" in Fahrenheit 451. Okay, caveat: I never read it (eek), but I know the story.

In short: in the future, books are considered intellectually dangerous objects and are destroyed. But an underground of book people exists; each person's task is to memorize a particular work, from beginning to end--to preserve it and then pass it on to the next generation, and thus to preserve these verboten items until they are valued again, and not permanently lost. It is assumed that literature reflects the truths of living, and by becoming these books, your life and outlook on life are changed and made more thoughtful.

That's it, in summary.

A Bookish Meme

2005-03-29T23:34:00.000-05:00

I've been given a challenge by Terrance. I normally don't do memes. I don't know why. But it doesn't matter. This one, I'll do.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?

Wow. Well, I'll choose something significant, but less well known: The Way of a Pilgrim -- a classic of Eastern Christian spirituality from the 19th century. I was first introduced to it by a piece of fiction (Franny & Zooey, by JD Salinger), and I read it as an undergraduate. Sadly, I've never read it again, but this is the book I choose as the book I would be and preserve.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

Yes, many, including comic book characters. But that was a long time ago, and we won't speak of such times.

The last book you bought is...?

The Norton Critical Edition of Julian of Norwich's Showings--in Middle English (from the Paris manuscript), with critical essays and contextual pieces. For my master's paper.

The last book you read is...?

I'll qualify this. Cover to cover, no skimming? Conversation as Ministry (Douglas Purnell), for a course in Fall 2004 on "Spirituality of Pastoral Care and Counseling." I've covered many books, either not cover-to-cover, or via skimming, since then.

What are you currently reading?

I'm in school. There are books on my nightstand that I pretend I am reading. Really, though, school reading fairly occupies my time. With that said...

For Contemplative Drawing:

Betty Edwards, The New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain
Matthew Fox, Original Blessing
Stephen Nachmanovitch, Free Play

For Church in History II:

Justo Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity: Reformation to the Present Day
about to begin: Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited; and Charles Sheldon, In His Steps

For Foundations of Christian Spirituality:

Simon Chan, Spiritual Theology: A Systematic Study of the Christian Life
Margaret Guenther, The Practice of Prayer
Jim Goll, Wasted on Jesus
The Upper Room Dictionary of Christian Spiritual Formation

For my master's paper:

Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love (a.ka., Showings)

For guilty pleasure:

short stories from Robert E. Howard's Nameless Cults. REH was the pulp-era creator of Conan the Cimmerian, a.k.a Conan the Barbarian, and was actually a fine writer in his own right. This volume collects his Lovecraft-inspired works. There is actually some crossover between the writings of Howard and Lovecraft, and you could properly count Conan in the Cthulhu mythos.

Five books you would take to a deserted island

Not as easy as I thought. Yes, my original list was 7+ books, but here we have the winners:

The Bible, with Apocrypha (specifically, the Oxford NRSV Study Bible)--as a source of spirituality, literature, myth, poetry, I am hard pressed to find anything that competes with this. (Technically, it is many, many books, but I will sidestep that technicality.) A study Bible of the type with historical critical notes and maps, not just multihued sidebars about how to love Jee-zus.
The Lord of the Rings--technically, a novel, not a trilogy. I've read it over a dozen times. It can stand a few dozen more readings, I believe.
The Essential Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson--to feed another aspect of my spirituality and my intellect, and because I'd probably never have any other occasion to read this collection.
The Mahabharata--I thought long and hard over this one; an Indian (South Asian) epic that dwarfs the Iliad and the Odyssey, and is the story which the Bhagavad Gita occurs in the midst of. The version I'm choosing is an older translation, because it is the only complete English translation. Of course, it is, in this translation, 4 volumes (2000 pages total), so I'm not sure whether that would count as four books. If I had to choose a single volume edition, then I'd go for Krishna Dharma translation (1000 pages). And If I weren't really on a desert island and just wanted to read (or rather, reread) a nice abridgement of the story, I'd read the Narayan edition (under 200 pages).
Spiritual Classics: Selected Readings --edited by Richard Foster, this is my iffy-selection. I wanted something that encompassed the breadth of Christianity, and wasn't too slanted toward a certain tradition. Of course there is a slant in this, and Richard Foster is not my favorite author. But I respect his spirituality and what he is trying to accomplish, and I believe that in this volume, the other voices he is bringing to the forefront (e.g.,Augustine, Thomas Merton, Fredrick Buechner, Evelyn Underhill, Martin Luther King, Jr., Hildegard of Bingen, John Milton, etc.) will add a panoply of voices beyond and above his own.

Who are you going to pass this baton to (three persons)? And why?

I have to choose three people who will actually do this? I follow a number of blogs, but I don't actually know that many bloggers. With that said:

Biquet--housemate, friend, and my Mirror Mirror universe duplicate. He is the post-Enlightnment version of me. (I retain just enough myth to stay on the cusp of the Enlightenment.) He would doubtless have some fascinating items. (I enjoy his blog, he just needs to blog more. I know, who am I to talk?)
Peacebang--I know she reads, and she reads a tremendous amount. She has a lovely library and a magnificent mind.
Boy in the Bands--Even though he won't do this, cuz it isn't quite his style. But that's his choice; I still choose to nominate him!

With that, these meme concludeth!

O Day of Light & Gladness!

2005-03-27T20:51:00.000-05:00

Happy Easter--Christ is Risen!

Although my Christology is unclear (to me, at least--and this is a subject for other posts), I can find no other words to express for this day. Clearly, I have a high enough Christology that Easter has a meaning beyond just Spring and flowers.

The details of my Easter:

Service: Universalist National Memorial Church; Mary Katherine Morn, preaching
Coffee hour: friends and fellow seminarians
Dinner: family--small, quiet gathering, not a big shindig, and just right.
Music: My Mother's Hymnbook, Johnny Cash.

Easter blessings on any who find these words!

Easter blessings and peace on any who find these words!
Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendour;
Radiant in the brightness of your King!
Christ has conquered death! Glory fills you!
Darkness vanishes for ever! Alleluia!

(from Celtic Worship Through the Year: Easter Anthem)

Doctor Litterarum

2005-03-27T15:17:00.000-05:00

If wishes were fishes, beggars would cast nets. And this is the doctorate I'd be most likely to get: the D.Litt (doctor litterarum, or Doctor of Letters). An informal web search of the D.Litt. in academia seems to indicate that the D.Litt could be any number of things:

an honorary degree only
an advanced degree open only to those who already have a PhD
an advanced degree at institutions outside the US, which (along with the D.Sci.) might comport to the PhD but not carry the same weight
an interdisciplinary program at Drew University, in Madison, NJ.

It is this fourth option that interests me the most, since I am by nature interdisciplinary. I've been such since my undergraduate days; I recall a professor spitting out the word "interdisciplinary" like it was a bad thing, when discussing my academic plans. My seminary degree has taken on an interdisciplinary character. And I know that any advanced degree studies--which I'm fairly confident I will one day pursue--will likewise have to have some interdisciplinary aspect to it. (For that matter, it would be nice to have some practical bent to it, and if you're in the business of pastoral counseling, spiritual formation, and education, that leaves you open to many, many possibilities.)

I like the Drew program. Let me offer some highlights:

The Drew arts and letters degrees are two of the most innovative of the few graduate programs in the greater New York area devoted to the study of liberal arts. The D.Litt. is the only doctoral-level degree program in the area. These degrees are graduate programs of interdisciplinary studies that explore the foundation and development of Western civilization in relationship to contemporary society....

The D. Litt. degree program flows naturally from the Caspersen School's successful M. Litt. program, first established in 1971. This graduate program of interdisciplinary studies, unique to Drew, explores the foundations and development of civilization in relation to contemporary societies. Although unfamiliar to most Americans, in Great Britain and the British Commonwealth, the Doctor of Letters is a degree with a long and respected history. Traditionally, it is awarded to students as an interdisciplinary degree in the humanities....

Students are required to concentrate in one of the seven series (Foundations of Civilization; The Modern Era; Contemporary Studies; Art and Music; Philosophy, Science and Technology, Studies in Spirituality, and Writing) offered in the Arts and Letters curriculum. (No doubt, I'd focus on the Studies in Spirituality series.)...
The D.Litt. dissertation, which includes an oral defense, is judged as a constructive and well-ordered contribution to human thought and relations. Candidates are expected to evidence creativity and disciplined study in their work. The doctoral thesis should evolve from the student's course work in the program. The dissertation is considered the normal method of satisfying this requirement and is approximately 150-200 pages in length.

If you're really interested, there's a brief description or a detailed description.

So what's the problem?

D.Litt. degree recipients complete a rigorous, interdisciplinary course of study that many find makes them excellent candidates for teaching. However, students whose sole goal is to teach full-time at the college or university level should be aware that full-time teaching at this level usually requires a Ph.D. in a specific discipline.

And there we have it. Credentials, again. This is the sort of program that would probably be most conducive to my intellectual interests and desires, but it is basically the wrong set of letters if I wanted to teach full-time at the university or seminary level. Higher education is quite mercenary nowadays; learning is not really elevated or valued, when it comes right down to it. Investment has to have reward. The reward of higher education is professional advancement. Feh.

I'll be honest, I'm not sure what I want to do. But I want openness and flexibility. I have a collection of masters degrees that make me well-suited for a variety of career --and more importantly for me, vocational--possibilities, including theological librarianship, spiritual direction, and pastoral counseling. A D. Litt would greatly enhance these possibilities, but if I wanted my work to take me to full-time faculty status somewhere, it might serve a hindrance. In that case, a PhD in Pastoral Counseling or Spirituality might be better suited for me.

But admit it, the D.Litt sounds fun. It is the sort of learning process and environment that excites me. Too often, I think, the US higher educational system beats the desire to learn out and replaces it with the need to conform to the academic machine, to become another cog.

Of course, I'm not well known for having entirely practical or pragmatic degrees, so what difference should this make?

Shouldn't knowledge be the reward of learning? Shouldn't the love of learning come first?

Movin' on Up...

2005-03-26T11:48:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine who I cannot justfiably call a "fellow blogger" --because his blogging is prodigious, and my marginal level of activity is nowhere in that league-- has been mentioned on CNN. Or at least, his blog's commentary on the Schiavo case has been mentioned on CNN.

I highly recommend his blog, Republic of T. It is linked in the sidebar, and you can explore it for yourself, or you can go directly to the CNN piece (and his own commentary on it).

Something to remember.

2005-03-23T01:27:00.000-05:00

I had to remind myself of something today.

I am in seminary for many reasons. I am there for training in professional ministry -- that is, for credentialling and for ministerial formation.

But for every late night that I've kept, for every hour I've lost to school, for every paper that has frustrated me and exam that has annoyed me and student that has exasperated me...

I love what I am doing. I am in a program where I can engage in dialogue on matters of faith with similar seekers, where I can read and digest and discuss the Biblical writers (or some of them), like the Prophets, the author(s) of the Psalms, John the Evangelist, even some Paul; classic writers like Augustine of Hippo, Benedict of Nursia, and Julian of Norwich; as well as some contemporary writers like Walter Brueggemann and Jim Wallis.

One day I presume I'll lay claim to Unitarian or Universalist writers, but I can say for now that I'm intruiged by James Luther Adams, George de Benneville, and Ralph Waldo Emerson, the fire hasn't struck yet.

It is in seminary that I can study sociology, and history, and literature, and art, and pastoral theology, and spirituality, and try to weave it all together into the tapestry we call Christianity--frayed in places, scorched in others, and in some places stunningly beautiful.

In other words, I had to remember what a blessing seminary is for me. I suspect (well, I know) that even after I finish my degree, after a host of requirements and obligations are met--I'll be back in class again. And probably still loving it.

peregrinato

2005-03-22T16:15:00.000-05:00

A mild retooling. I'm not sure.

Blogs are interesting beasts. I'm not sure why I am going through this, given the 2-3 readers I have; I can just as easily email them. Who knows, perhaps one day I will pick up more readers and they'll want to wander backwards and see where I've come from.

Anyway...The Aerie is out. Peregrinato is in. (For now.) The name Looking Eagle still has meaning for me, but for the purposes of this blog, and my musings, reflections, and wanderings, I've chosen the name peregrinato (Latin for "pilgrimage"). Life is a pilgrimage, a journey; we are not put here to stay, and we are moving toward something. For some, this is a meaningless cliche. For me, it is the truth.

The Aerie had too many connotations of "I'm looking down and observing you all." I think that may have originally been somewhat intentional (I've been calling my home page "The Aerie" for years), but as I (try to) mature, I am looking for something that seems a little less presumptuous or condescending.

We'll see where this goes. Perhaps another false start. Perhaps not. Sometimes I'm okay with things taking their own sweet time.

Ready for Retirement

2005-02-07T15:08:00.000-05:00

I realized something the other day, as I was rearranging and shelving some books at home.

I had just bought another book in the Chaosium press library of Lovecraft-inspired or -related fiction. I have a few books in this series. I have a few related books. I have the collected works of HP Lovecraft. I have a few of the Robert E. Howard pulp collections.

(This is backstory, not realization. I did not have to realize what books I have, or what my down-time reading interests are.)

I had bought another book with the full knowledge that I will likely not read it within the next ten years. But I wanted to have it. Just like those many other pulp books that I have, bought, collected, or desired. I will likely not read these books for many years. I don't have enough "down-time" to really begin a pulp reading project, it seems--I have too much to read for school or even work, that "downtime" just means a time to read something i've follen behind on or don't have an immediate deadline on, but is still professionally or academically relevent.) So I may not read these books for years to come.

If ever.

Yet i keep collecting them.

The question is: why?

Why purchase and organize a corpus of literature that I may never have time to read? Why do I have these possessions that I do not need and cannot really justify?

Perhaps the Buddhists will have some lesson about detachment. Maybe the Quakers will scold me for not living a simple life.

Its probably a simple answer. Lovecraft and the pulps were what i read in my childhood. Sure, I read Tolkien--and continue to re-read him. But I read HPL and ERB voraciously.

These books must be reminders for me, of a simpler time in my life, when imagination was not constrained by fact, that exploration with the mind didn't require the justification of higher education and critical thinking, and adventure was grand and simple. (Okay, yes, I'm also sophisticated enough to realize that many pulp authors were products of their time, and were likely racist and sexist, as well as more than a little bit closeted.)

Its almost like....the pulps that I read before I went to school and entered the work force will be what I read when I have left school and the work force. I'm preparing myself a way to revisit my childhood, and maybe even unlock a little bit of the imagination and creative thinking that the modern world has hammered into a very tight, solid box, and which is aching to be released.

Until then, I'll continue to buy, organize, and manage my pulp lit--adventure, dark horror, and "science" fiction--and anticipate a day when i might be able to begin reading them and rediscover wonder.

More on the Methodists

2004-12-03T15:25:00.000-05:00

I keep thinking about Elizabeth Stroud's trial in the Methodist Church. There are so many issues involved.

On the one hand, I believe I have to accept, and even respect the right of the United Methodist Church to act according to its Book of Discipline on matters pertaining to homosexuality. I don't think that the polity (or the theology behind it) of denominations and congregations should all be vetted according to my individual beliefs.

On the other hand--this is fundamentally wrong. I'm not going to argue what the Bible does or doesn't say about homosexuality; this has been done by many people before, and individuals rarely, I believe, move from one camp to another. There are those who would examine what the Bible has to say about sexuality (or anything) in light of what were the perceived norms of the communities that produced the scriptures, and there are those who would believe that the Bible speaks absolute truths in everything it states. I am clearly not in the latter camp.

I really feel for the Methodists though. I know of a number of gay Methodist seminarians whose future in the professional ministry are impacted by this and are forced to remain professionally closeted. Those that have the courage to speak out, ultimately, face exile. Elizabeth Stroud preached, in her "coming out" sermon:

I have come to a place where my discipleship, my walk with Christ, requires telling the whole truth, and paying whatever price truthfulness requires. (via bethstroud.info)

And now she has had to pay the price. We could speak, pragmatically, that the congregation says she will remain employed, or that a handful of more liberal Christian denominations would jump at ordaining her, but that's not the point.

She's a lifelong Methodist; the church, she states, is her family. What has happened is not as simple as rejection from a professional association; it is rejection by her family. Sure, she could be ordained elsewhere and serve other churches elsewhere. Sure, she can still work at her church but no longer in a sacramental post. The message here from the United Methodist Church is, quite simply, "you're not good enough for us. We don't want your kind."

Again, I go back to "open hearts, open doors, open minds." There is a profound disconnect between this slogan and what the Church has done. And sadly, it isn't the first, nor will it be the last. As a Christian I can point the finger of blame at my Church and say

look at what you have done to this world

A beloved community or a club of bigots? How often is the Church striving for the former but realizing the latter?

My thoughts and prayers are directed toward Beth Stroud and other LGBT within the United Methodist Church, the Christian Church, and the world, who have tried to live the life that God has given them and are punished for it.

Closed Hearts, Closed Minds, Closed Doors

2004-12-03T11:23:00.000-05:00

Just what am I missing here?

What part of the United Methodist Church's "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors" campaign doesn't exactly jive with its decision to defrock a lesbian pastor?

In a way, I live in a bubble. I live in an urban enclave, attend a liberal Christian church, study at a (mostly) progressive seminary, and am surrounded by people for whom Christian behavior is based on love and compassion, not following a moral/legal code based upon specific sociocultural (read: ancient Hebrew and Greco-Roman) understandings of human nature and biology. "Homosexuality" just isn't an issue for us.

Then I look around at what other self-identified Christians do -- obsessively focus on other people's sexuality (I think that qualifies as voyeurism), ignore the poor, bomb other nations, and all I can say is, What happened to Jesus? Where is Christ in this?

Then I remember: I'm in a blue state. Today, a very, very blue state.

Me me me

2004-10-17T14:20:00.000-04:00

I realize this is hardly worthy of serious reflection. But recent pics of me at work.

I can't say much for the quality of the pics--but they were only taken with a PDA camera.

Frustration Theology

2004-10-14T13:45:00.000-04:00

...also known as, a word or two on the nature of ministerial formation--and what is wrong with it.

Let's take two seminarians--we'll call them Jack and Jill. Jack wants to be a parish minister and work in a congregational setting. Jill wants to be a chaplain and work in a hospice setting. For now, their denominations don't matter. They're both in the Master of Divinity program, which is roughly a 90-credit hour/three year fulltime program.

Jack, as a future pastor, will do his fieldwork in a church setting. He might, depending on his denomination or local district, do one unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), which comes out to a 12-week unpaid full-time program. (Unpaid, but not free--he has to pay for it.) He'll ultimately be ordained and upheld as a leader of the Church.

Jill, as a future chaplain, will do her fieldwork hopefully in an agency setting, but may end up in a church setting. She'll have to do one unit CPE--but then will have to do another year full-time CPE, for which she'll receive a meagre stipend and three more CPE units. She may or may not be ordained, and it won't be on the same standard as Jack, because she'll be a "community minister" (not always an ordained position) or a "deacon" (which is promoted as apart from, not below, a priest--but politically still a lesser beast.)

So what this means is--those who work in community settings will need additional training. The basic ministerial degree won't work for them. They could get a theological degree that doesn't emphasize homiletics, church administration, etc., and lets them focus on pastoral care and counseling (or related tasks)--but it won't be "the M.Div." And they won't get the same status, recognition, or credentials as their congregational peers.

Just how fair is that?

(Just as a note, the M.Div program puts out people who are already overburdened and often in enormous amounts of debt into positions of incredible stress and low pay.)

And most denominations just can't quite figure out what to do with community ministers. Some have very positive talk of "uplifting" community ministers--such as the Unitarian Universalist Association--but it then forces them into the same training required of parish ministers, which won't necessarily let them do what they need to do. If you eschew the MDiv for training that is more relevant to your community ministry, you probably aren't "ordainable" because you don't have the M.Div. This, in my opinion, is simply bogus.

Many ministry positions will hire someone with a graduate theological degree (e.g., the Master of Theological Studies, MTS, which in some schools is a 60 hour degree), provided they have sufficient units of CPE. Even if they have the right training and skills, however, they may be afforded less respect than is given to the "The Revs" who have M.Divs.

When it comes right down to it, I can have a Master's in Counseling and a MTS, be called to a form of vocation that takes me outside the church walls but is no less ministerial, and I will most likely not be ordainable by mainline denominations because of degree credentials.

Perhaps I'm just stressed. Perhaps I'm simply feeling the pains of vocational discernment. Or maybe I'm right in my assessment that the current state of ministerial formation is pedagogically weak, if not bankrupt, and is too often a one-size-fits-all degree (in theory) for what is not a one-size-fits-all path. I am in a status of possibly having to do more work, but being afforded less respect (which is not a matter of ego as much as hire-ability!) as other people with the magic letters "M D I V".

Its amazing how the process can beat the spirit out of anyone with a calling. Surviving this process doesn't mean you're more called than other people, or more suited to do the work--it means you are more adept at navigating institutions. (And this is clearly my dilemma, as I ponder transferring from a MDiv to an MTS.)

I thought this was about spiritual gifts. There's a good reason some groups (namely, the Quakers) look askance at the perils of over professionalization of ministry.

A word or two on Merlin

2004-09-30T11:42:00.000-04:00

Merlin was not my first cat, but he was perhaps one of my "best"--I have loved every animal companion that has been part of my life, but of all the cats I've lived with, Merlin was the one creature that epitomized absolute devotion to me. He was my buddy.

Merlin passed away on June 25, 1999,of complications due to Chronic Renal Failure. He was nine years old. It was in grieving him that I learned to connect with grief, and it was losing him that moved my career into grief counseling.

My favorite picture of Merlin. Ever.

I drew this after he died. terribly sentimental, yes.

Lucy, RIP

2004-09-30T11:33:00.000-04:00

On July 30, 2003 I sent out notification of the death of Mr Kitty, one of the three cats Tom Walker and I herded during our relationship together. Not much more than a year later, I am writing to inform you of the death of Lucy, the third of our "children". (Merlin, the youngest of the three, died in 1999.)

The actual diagnosis did not come through, but all signs pointed to intestinal cancer. She deteriorated rapidly over the past month -- even over the last few days. Tom, as Lucy's caregiver, elected to ease her pain and arranged for a home visit from a vet from Takoma Park Animal Clinic. At roughly 9 pm this evening, at Tom's home, Lucy's suffering ended. As with Mister Kitty's death, I was privileged to be there for her final moments, and I was also thankful for Kevin Kiger's presence. I offered a prayer of thanks for Lucy's life and the gift of her companionship.

I have attached a picture of Lucy that I took today, within the last hour or so of her life. Even ill, she was still quite the beautiful beast.

Thank you all for having come into our (Tom's, mine, our extended family of cats and dogs and friends and partners) lives, and thank you for the concern and support you have expressed, and please keep us (especially Tom, whose life was most touched by Lucy) in your warm fuzzy thoughts.

Peace

Mourning is Hard Work

2004-09-30T11:15:00.000-04:00

The "Tasks of Mourning"--constructed by J. William Worden (1991). The following language, including the names for the tasks, is mine however.

Note: this is something I wrote 2 months ago and rediscovered this morning. I'm posting it mostly to preserve it, but it has relevance to my life for many personal reasons.

Name Your Grief. If we are to grieve successfully, we must acknowledge our loss. There is never a single loss; it exists within a constellation of relationships. With the loss of a person can also come the loss of hopes, and dreams, and the fragile belief that we know what our future will be.

Express Your Grief. Do not go gently unto the night. Go kicking and screaming. Vent and rage. Feel all that there is to be felt: relief that the bad times are over; guilt that you have felt relief; anger and resentment. Who are we mad at? We are mad at the one who left. We are mad at our circumstances. We are mad at God, the author of our current misery.

Learn and Become. When we grieve, we suffer loss. What have we lost? Not simply a loved one--but someone who played some role in our lives. Perhaps it was a role worth forgetting; perhaps it was a vital part of our daily living. To grieve is to learn new tasks, even to take on these roles if need be.

Invest. We have a surplus of energy now. The energy was first, dedicated towards another. Then, it was dedicated to healing and growth as we experience fully the sorrow of loss. Then, in time, we must learn that it is okay to take that energy and put it into other things and other relationships.

Believe again. We lose an entire worldview when we grieve. We can more easily learn new roles or invest energy into new people than we can reconstruct a shattered philosophy. Or is it in the act of re-investing and re-imagining our lives that we are in fact building a new philosophy, one that is more tested and tried by life's fire?

Seeking More; Wanting Less

2004-09-27T23:03:00.000-04:00

I think we are caught in an interesting tension--the tension of seeking more, on the one hand, and of accepting what we have, on the other.

Those who seek more can be achievers, can be highly motivated; it is what brings us away from stagnation, from a status-quo in which growth is stunted. And yet it can also force us to live in a future-orientation, forgetting what we have, even dismissing it; at its worse it can be craving, attachment to an outcome.

Yet the flip side of this is acceptance. Seen positively, it allows us to breathe deeply of our life, to accept what G-d has given to us, to not squander what we have in favor of what we want. Seen negatively--it is lethargy, it is an utter lack of ambition, and it is the end of growth.

How do we walk the line between accepting and achieving? Perhaps there is no line, but in my own life it simply represents two poles of being. I have not been satisifed with much in my life, of late; does that mean that I should actively seek more, strive to become more, and attain more? Or does it require a reframing of my situation, and my outlook on my situation so that I accept what has been given to me?

It is the struggle of being versus becoming. Life is that tension between the two, it seems, so that we neither fall into stagnation nor are ruined by cravings.

Ghosts

2004-09-26T01:15:00.000-04:00

I wrote this as a posting to a friend's blog. I'm resubmitting here (for posterity? vanity?) with some minor edits.

The ghosts in my childhood are not confined to one locale; they follow me on my path, at times standing in my way. There are ghosts in my current home--and they haunt me with regret, they taunt me, and at times they try to mentor me.

I have had to accept my ghosts: I created them. I'm simply tired of creating more, and fearing the creation of yet more. I don't want my ghosts to leave, actually; they're the ancestors of my past, the predecessors of today. I wish they would find peace, though, and offer me guidance and support and not the harsh tongues of criticism and reminders of things gone awry.

Ghosts, spirits, dragons. The numina of buried experience, painful memories, and even ecstasies given life. The sighs too deep for words create these things that are part of our personal spiritual entourage; will they comfort us or cajole? Will they teach or will they terrorize? The goal, I believe, is integration of past and present and future, memory and hope alike.

Blog, Revived

2004-09-26T01:14:00.000-04:00

I've managed to move most of my blog from uuchristian.net over to this space. Some posts didn't make it; the herd had to be culled.

We'll see if this blog survives, and if it thrives. I'm in a period of intense liminality, a murky valley filled with the unknown. Some room for reflection will be nice. A place I can return to, and maybe even share some of my reflections, will also be nice.

This will not be a space for me to unveil for the world every personal foible or neuroses. (Yes, we all have them; its part of the human condition.) The events in my life go through multiple layers of reflection:

the visceral level, my gut reaction
the dialectical level, where I've had some time to think about things
the theological level, where I've let them sit in my soul for a bit

I'm sure there are more. This is an off-the-cuff analysis, not a systematic exposition of layers of response and reflection. My major point is: you won't hear me complaining about satellite TV reception, a rainy day, or a loved one. I aim to discuss only those things for which I have engaged in some internal dialogue, or even better, can hold in my soul and can reflect on. Which means this blog might run from fertile to barren in any given time.

The Practice of Prayer

2004-05-19T23:37:00.000-04:00

Creating a Life with God: The Call of Ancient Prayer Practices, a review
Daniel Wolpert (Upper Room Books, 2003). 192 pp.

Wolpert's work is a brief examination of different prayer practices that have endured throughout the history of Christian spirituality. It is not an academic treatise; it is a "how-to" text, peppered with quotations from primary authors, and enlivened by the author's own prayer practices.

Creating a Life with God introduces readers to the following prayer practices:

Silent Prayer, as introduced by the Desert mothers and fathers of the Christian tradition
Lectio Divina, sacred reading of scripture (not merely "bible study") introduced by St Benedict of Nursia
the Jesus Prayer, introduced in The Way of the Pilgrim as a way of continual prayer
Apophatic Prayer, contemplative prayer in the tradition of the Cloud of Unknowing (and the model of Pennington and Keating's "Contemplative Pryaer")
the Examen, the examination of God's movement in our life and actions, as taught by Ignatius of Loyola
Creativity, discovering the play of God in life, following the example of Hildegard of Bingen
Journaling, listening for the voice of Heaven in our writings, as taught by Julian of Norwich
Body Prayer, finding the breath of God in our own breathing practice, and rediscovering the sacred nature of our bodies (vis-a-vis the Song of Solomon)
Walking Prayer, examinging the spiritual life as a true physical journey (includes the Labyrinth)
Nature, hearing God in the voice of Nature, as guided by St Francis of Assissi
Prayer and Living in the World, putting prayer into our daily lives, following the model of the Beguines
Prayer in Community, or creating a true community of faith at work.

What Wolpert does with this book is introduce a practice, discuss very briefly its tradition and history, and then--more importantly-- teach us how to explore this method of prayer. The book ends with an appendix containing step-by-step instructions on how to introduce the prayer in private and group practice.

It is not about making us deeply powerful pray-ers as much as it is trying to find ways to reintroduce the practice of prayer so that it infuses our daily lives. The book is incredible as a short introduction to multiple practices.

What's my take on it? I can tell you now I'm likely to avoid journalling. I already blog; I write a lot. I love writing. Perhaps at times I can find the voice of God in the written words that I produce, but I want to not add to how much I have to write.

I've always liked the Jesus Prayer--in essence, repetition of "[Lord] Jesus Christ, [Son of God], have mercy on me [a sinner]." (As you can see, it can be simpler or more complex to your tastes." I first read about it years ago in J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey. When I first read that book, with its reference to some esoteric little prayer text called "The Way of the Pilgrim", I was intrigued--and I was overjoyed in college when I learned that it was a real text. If I were to try some prayer practice routinely, I honestly believe this would be it. I can see a purpose and value ot the others, including lectio divina, but this is the one that draws me the most. We'll see.

Love, God, and Murder

2004-05-17T23:36:00.000-04:00

I recently went shopping at Borders for three Johnny Cash CDs: thematic compilations of his music on "Love", "Murder", and "God". (Now available as a boxed set, of course.)

Two of these were available. I couldn't find the third one no matter where I looked.

When I got to the cash register, one of them was on sale.

The moral of the story?

Murder is cheap.
Love is costly.
No matter where you looked, God couldn't be found.

A Look at the Psalms

2004-05-15T23:34:00.000-04:00

The Psalms have played a significant role in personal and corporate Christian worship. One of my current interests is reading the psalms--as devotional literature, as literature of grief and hope, and even as poetry. I'm not reading them as a translator or exegete: any interptretation is phenomenological, resting on the interaction between the text and the reader.

Now I say this but I'm not attempting an unguided reading. My companions through the Psalms are Walter Brueggemann's Spirituality of the Psalms and Denise Dombrowski Hopkins' Journey Through the Psalms. As I gain any insights from these texts, I'll add them.

Because I'm also looking at the language of the Psalms, I'm interested in comparing various translations--not vis-a-vis their linguistic integrity as much as their poetic power, and even simply as examples of how literature in translation can be so malleable.

Take, for example, the well known 23rd Psalm--probably the only Psalm most believers know that they know. (There may be snippets of language from the Psaltery that they are familiar with, but unknowingly so.) Here's the translation from the King James Bible:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
(Ps 23:1-4, KJV)

Sound familiar? Thought so.

Now let's look at it in other translations.

Next up we have the translation from the Bay Psalm Book--printed in 1640, the first book printed in the United States:

The Lord to me a shepherd is; want therefore shall not I:
He in the folds of tender grass, doth cause me down to lie:
To waters calm me gently leads restore my soul doth he:
He doth in paths of righteousness for his name's sake lead me.
Yea, in valley of death's shade I walk, none I'll fear:
Because thou art with me, thy rod, and staff comfort me.

The cadence seems forced and doesn't sound very smooth or natural. To my ears at least, it is not very successful. It is good if you want a crowd to drone in rhythmic unison but not really care about content. And, to the ears of contemporary readers, a bit too resonant of Yoda grammar.

The KJV and the Bay Psalm Book are examples from the 17th century. Let's look now at five examples of more recent translations, two of them in "contemporary" English.

I'm rather partial to the New Jerusalem Bible (1985) for its readability. (Blame it on my RC upbringing.) How does this translation treat the 23rd Psalm?

Yahweh is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
In grassy meadows he lets me lie.
By tranquil streams he leads me
to restore my spirit.
He guides me in the paths of saving justice
as befits his name.
Even were I to walk in a ravine as dark as death,
I should fear no danger, for you are at my side.
Your staff and your crook are there to sooth me.

Not entirely poetic, and maybe even blandly prosaic--but still quite direct, and even effective as a statement of faith and assurance.

Now let's take a look at the Jewish Publication Society's (JPS) translation, also from 1985.

The Lord is my shepherd;
I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me to water in places of repose;
He renews my life;
He guides me in right paths
as befits His name.
Though I walk through a valley of deepest darkness,
I fear no harm, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff--they comfort me.

Very simple--and to me, lovely. Not overdone, a solid, faithful utterance in a subtle rhythm. (Read it aloud. Pause. You'll see it too.)

Now, what about the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV), the translation typically preferred by academics? How does it sound?

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me.

Not bad, not great. It sounds, to me, like a watered down KJV--an attempt to maintain the language of familiarity.

Finally, we'll look at two translations into contemporary English. First we'll start with Eugene Peterson's "The Message":

God, my shepherd!
I don't need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through Death Valley,
I'm not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd's crook
makes me feel secure.

It certainly adds a nuance or two that makes the psalm less like a series of metaphors and more like utterances of what God has done. But otherwise...its a bit blah. I don't mind this translation, particularly if you need or want to read more dry parts of the Bible, but keep away for anything poetic. (Sorry, Eugene.)

Finally: a look at Jim Cotter's Psalms for a Pilgrim People, which is not so much a translation as a rewording.

Dear God, you sustain me and feed me:
Like a shepherd you guide me.
You lead me to an oasis of green,
to lie down by restful waters.
Quenching my thirst, you restore my life:
renewed and refreshed, I follow you,
a journey on the narrowest of paths.
You keep me true to your name.
Even when cliffs loom out of the mist,
My step is steady because of my trust.
Even when I go through the deepest valley,
With the shadow of darkness and death,
I will fear no evil or harm.
For you are with me to give me your strength,
Your crook, your staff, at my side.

Wow. I really like that. Poetic in its own right, a translation of ideas more than literal words, what the author calls an "unfolding" and an "amendment". I'm not sure I would use it for regular corporate worship, when I think people should learn the language of the Psalms through a conventional translation--but quite useful for special occasions, and also something I like for personal worship.

The Vineyard and the Prison

2004-05-10T23:24:00.000-04:00

I have been reading over the American mistreatment, neglect, abuse, and torture of Iraqi prisoners in Abu Ghraib, and I am disgusted. I don't have time to reflect on a deeper commentary, but I'm not sure what this says about the human condition or about what the culture of war breeds in its warriors.

However, since the Invasion of Iraq is touted by its supporters as an act of liberation in the cause of justice, I am forced to turn (again, and again) to the Song of the Vineyard (Isa 5:1-7).

How does this mesh with our supposed acts of justice?

Read it for yourself.

The Song of the Vineyard

I will sing for my beloved
my love-song about his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard
high up on a fertile hill-side.

He trenched it and cleared it of stones
and planted it with red vines;
he built a watch-tower in the middle
and then hewed out a winepress in it.

He looked for it to yield grapes,
but it yielded wild grapes.

Now, you who live in Jerusalem,
and you men of Judah,
judge between me and my vineyard.

What more could I have been done for my vineyard
that I did not do in it?

Why, when I looked for it to yield grapes,
did it yield wild grapes?

Now listen while I tell you
what I will do to my vineyard:

I will take away its fences and let it be burnt,
I will break down its walls and let it be trampled underfoot,

and so I will leave it derelict;
it shall be niether pruned nor hoed,

but shall grow thorns and briars
Then I will command the clouds
to send no more rain upon it.

The vineyard of the Lord of Hosts is Israel,
and the men of Judah are the plant he cherished.

He looked for justice and found it denied,
for righteousness but heard cries of distress.

(Isiah 5:1-7, NEB)

He looked for justice in Abu Ghraib and found it denied,
for righteousness but heard cries of distress.

Building Bridges

2004-05-09T23:18:00.000-04:00

This morning I was one of the speakers at Universalist National Memorial Church , which had a "Bridging" ceremony as part of its Sunday service. I gave the Young Adults reflection, since I have some sort of special relationship with the Young Adults at church. (I'm the token fun adult perhaps.)

Here's the text for my untitled reflection. It was relatively well received (at least by the adults!)

We have come here today to celebrate the young adults in our family who are making transitions in their lives, and it is my privilege to offer a few words of reflection for these young adults. I specifically call these words of “reflection” and not “wisdom,” because I strongly believe in uplifting the wisdom of our youth, who have a sense of openness and a willingness to experience both the joys and anxieties of change as they leave behind the comfort of familiar places and move into unfamiliar territories.

I think it is fair to say that “young adulthood”—a fairly relative and vague designation!—is a time filled with these transitions. Some people like to say that this is a time of “growing up”, of leaving childhood behind and entering the equally vague territory called adulthood. This concept of growing up can be presumptuous, and I’ve never liked the feeling that “growing up” is something you do between 15 and 25 and then bam! You’re there, you’re a grown up. Certainly we can speak authentically about the need of growing into individuality and responsibility, but I’m not sure that this comes at a certain age. We’re all under the obligation to continue learning and growing, even a little bit, day by day. And let’s recognize that young adulthood is a time filled with expectations from family, friends, and society—expectations made all the more difficult as they are trying to meet the demands of school, work, and struggles over questions of identity. It is a time of many transitions and many stresses, and it takes some wisdom to navigate this perilous odyssey through an undiscovered country.

I can remember these earlier days in my own life distinctly: from my later years in high school, into my early years after college, I was constantly trying to figure out who I was. This wasn’t a terribly philosophical question as much as it was practical: What did I want to learn? Where do I want to work? What did I want to do with my life? (Footnote: fifteen to twenty years later, the questions haven’t changed much. There’s just less anxiety with the lack of specific answers.) During this time, I sought the advice of friends and elders, but ultimately what I had to learn was to hear my own voice. This is why, perhaps the best thing I can tell the young adults who are reaching new bridges on their journey, is to be open to the experiences of others who’ve crossed ahead of you, but the journey is still yours. Their mistakes are their lessons, and not your own. Be keen to your own wisdom. Be patient with yourself, give yourself the chance to make mistakes (and you will make them!) and be confident that you can learn your own lessons in life and grow into true wisdom.

I am reminded of the words from a Chicago Tribune article made famous through an Internet hoax and then a song by Baz Luhrmann. This text, a commencement address (misattributed to Kurt Vonnegut via the Internet hoax), basically advises caution about advice: It suggests, “Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.”

Now, before anyone pulls me aside and accuses me of encouraging rebellion or recklessness, I’m not saying to be foolhardy. I’m not saying that all advice is something to categorically ignore. I am saying, listen to it, and weigh it against your own life story and your needs. I would dare suggest that if our elders had not made the mistakes that they made they would not be the very wise people that they are today trying to sagely give advice and offer guidance. Mark Twain once said (if I can quote roughly), “Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment”. Wisdom is a capacity open to all people, and it can only be cultivated by immersing ourselves in life’s many experiences, by crossing the bridge into unknown lands.

I wish we had a different concept, a metaphor other than “bridging”. Certainly, it is a metaphor that works well with the notion of life as a journey. It implies transition and a very distinct movement from one place to another, a changing of territories and terrains. Graduation certainly suggests this. Moving into or out of a faith community, a college, or a home certainly suggest this. And while crossing a bridge is a useful metaphor for entering a new territory, it also implies leaving something behind.

A close friend suggests different language is more useful. She prefers the metaphor of a book: In your life changes, you are closing one chapter of your life, and opening another chapter. But it is a chapter that builds upon the previous chapters, creating a fuller, richer story. You’re going to meet new characters, open new plot-lines, and reconsider the lessons of the prior chapters; but you’re adding to your story and enriching it, carrying those completed chapters into the future. Nothing is left to the wayside or consigned to the past of yesterday’s journey.

So I stand here with our congregation and honor the chapters you’ve already written, and say to you, go with courage and a sense of adventure. Write a new chapter to your life, and remember that at any point you can turn back to older pages and read them with a new perspective. Realize and claim your own voice of wisdom in these pages. And realize, as you move forward into your unexplored future—we’re all moving with you as well, writing our own chapters, creating with you a shared story of life and love and wisdom. We haven’t crossed the bridge ahead of you: we’re all on it together. Amen!

Andi!

2004-05-01T23:21:00.000-04:00

Yes, a moment of domesticity.

Here's the new doggie, Andi, in his sporty new doggie goggles (a.k.a. doggles).

Derek and I got Andi through Coast-to-Coast Dachshund Rescue on April 17, 2004. His name was Andy but we had to personalize it somehow. Andi is the Hindi word for the plant that produces the Camphor bean, a.k.a. Palma Christi.

He's 2 years old, and he's spoiled rotten.

The Mother of Theology

2004-05-01T23:13:00.000-04:00

Apocalypse, a review.
Pablo Richards (Orbis Books, 1995). 184 pp.

The Revelation to John is a hard book to swallow. Constructed of a symbolic language and presenting an arcane cosmology, it seems to belong to another world entirely. Indeed, many Christians today are left wondering what to do with this final book of the New Testament. For some, it is an interpretive oddity, offering nothing of value for contemporary Christians struggling to live their faith in a post-modern world. For other Christians, it is a blueprint for God’s plan for the end of time, and its language is decoded to understand what signs and symbols will usher in Christ’s Second Coming. There is, of course, a range of interpretive possibility with Revelation, and Pablo Richard’s Apocalypse: A People’s Commentary on the Book of Revelation offers an uncommon way of examining Revelation through liberation hermeneutics. It is a compelling interpretation, though one not likely to be endorsed by many fundamentalist or literalist interpreters. For Richard, though, Revelation is neither futuristic doom-saying or ancient oddity; instead, apocalyptic is so foundational to understanding the Christian revelation, that it is the mother of theology. It is through this lens that he reads and interprets Revelation, and Apocalypse offers a radically different, and hopeful, way of reading Revelation and understanding the future.

If you're interested in the review (5 pages, written for a class), send me a note.

Belief-o-Matic

2004-04-02T23:05:00.000-05:00

Every time I take Belief Net's Belief-o-Matic, the results are fairly consistent. Here we go:

1. Liberal Quakers (100%)
2. Bahá'í Faith (93%)
3. Unitarian Universalism (92%)
4. Reform Judaism (89%)
5. Neo-Pagan (83%)
6. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (82%)
7. New Age (81%)
8. Mahayana Buddhism (81%)
9. Jainism (80%)
10. Orthodox Quaker (75%)
11. Orthodox Judaism (74%)
12. Hinduism (69%)
13. Islam (66%)
14. Sikhism (64%)
15. Taoism (63%)
16. Theravada Buddhism (61%)
17. New Thought (59%)
18. Secular Humanism (57%)
19. Seventh Day Adventist (51%)
20. Scientology (50%)
21. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (45%)
22. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (40%)
23. Nontheist (35%)
24. Eastern Orthodox (33%)
25. Roman Catholic (33%)
26. Jehovah's Witness (28%)
27. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (25%)

Take it for what you will!

No Child Left Behind (Except for Gays and Pacifists)

2004-04-02T23:02:00.000-05:00

A disturbing factoid I've come across, thanks to a Quaker news alert: in short, education legislation forces schools to work with military recruiters.

George Bush's "sweeping" education reform -- sweeping, much like a plague sweeps across the land or a fire sweeps through a tenement slum -- is the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB) of 2001. It has its strengths, to be sure, but it is not above criticism. Of course, you'd never know this from the cultists at the US Department of Education and their unwavering support of this legislation, as though it is revealed scripture. I've seen first-hand some of the changes, including a major ideological change from active support of bilingual educational and minority languages to a primary thrust of "English language acquisition". Other than a comment that linguist Tove Skutnabb-Kangas equates linguistic homogeneity with cultural genocide in her work, Linguistic Genocide in Education, I don't have much more to say on that issue right now.

More to the point here, though, is that NCLB requires schools to give military recruiters information. First, the legislation:

SEC. 9528. ARMED FORCES RECRUITER ACCESS TO STUDENTS AND
STUDENT RECRUITING INFORMATION.

‘‘(a) POLICY.—

‘‘(1) ACCESS TO STUDENT RECRUITING INFORMATION.—Notwithstanding
section 444(a)(5)(B) of the General Education Provisions Act and except as provided in paragraph (2), each local educational agency receiving assistance under this Act
shall provide, on a request made by military recruiters or an institution of higher education, access to secondary school students names, addresses, and telephone listings.

‘‘(2) CONSENT.—A secondary school student or the parent of the student may request that the student’s name, address, and telephone listing described in paragraph (1) not be released without prior written parental consent, and the local educational agency or private school shall notify parents of the option to make a request and shall comply with any request.

‘‘(3) SAME ACCESS TO STUDENTS.—Each local educational agency receiving assistance under this Act shall provide military recruiters the same access to secondary school students as is provided generally to post secondary educational institutions or to prospective employers of those students.

‘‘(b) NOTIFICATION.—The Secretary, in consultation with the Secretary of Defense, shall, not later than 120 days after the date of enactment of the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001, notify principals, school administrators, and other educators about the requirements of this section.

‘‘(c) EXCEPTION.—The requirements of this section do not apply to a private secondary school that maintains a religious objection to service in the Armed Forces if the objection is verifiable through the corporate or other organizational documents or materials of that school.

Yes, in one section is says or an institution of higher education. I think given the name of this section and the fact that the thrust is toward military recruiters, that reference to IHEs does little to distract from the real orientation of his section.

This provision is troublesome for a number of reasons, not least of which is the issue that this is a violation of student privacy. I am more disturbed by the fact that the Department of Education does not simply cooperate with the military--that I can dislike, but understand--but in this, it serves the military. I do not believe that institutions of education, institutions created to nurture youth and foster growth, should be so closely aligned with warmaking. This act also effectively ended the activities of some schools to ban military recruiting from schools because the military discriminates against our gay brothers and lesbian sisters.

There are a number of commentaries already out there on the net that I recommend:

* No Child Left Unrecruited -- commentary from the United Methodist Church General Board of Global Ministries

* No Child Left Unrecruited -- yes, same name. From Rethinking Schools.

* Uncle Sam Wants -- an overview of NCLB from the American Friends Service Committee.

* No Child Left Behind...by Military Recruiters--commentary from Church of the Brethren.

* No Child Left Behind Feature -- information and materials from the American Civil Liberties Union.

Read it, think about it. Maybe this hits me more because in the final analysis, I choose "Dove" over "Hawk", and because I work for an office that is funded by the US Department of Education--an office that is little more than a parrot for NCLB, and I am confronted daily with "values" that are against mine.

You Call This Worship??

2003-11-26T22:59:00.000-05:00

I am posting a modified version of a church visit I did for my corporate worship/liturgics class at Wesley. Out of some modicum of respect for privacy, I will not use the church's name. I visited an Assemblies of God church in Cumberland, Maryland (far, far western Maryland), and there are a number of Assemblies churches out there. If my description rings true for any particular church, then use your best judgment. If you don't like what I'm saying... in the words of a dear friend, "a hit dog will holla."

"Assemblies of God" Church-- Cumberland, Maryland

I can honestly say that this is one of the most distasteful experiences of worship I’ve ever endured, and experiencing this, I can see why people turn away from religion. I chose to attend this service in Cumberland, Maryland to expand my own horizons, but I almost feel like they have retracted. Thankfully I have some sense of ego defenses and sense of self-worth, otherwise I personally would have left the service theologically devastated.

I realize that this is less an issue of worship style than it is theological content; while often worship and theology are conjoined, in this case I can refer to the two distinctly, and discuss those parts of the church’s worship separately from its abhorrent anti-pastoral teachings. Unfortunately, it is hard for me to really focus on the worship style without thinking of the message being preached. I realize I am being judgmental – but I am simply returning the favor. In my 90 minutes there, I heard theological sideswipes against: gays (three times, including the preacher’s sense of despondence at the Episcopal ordination of a “defensive practicing homosexual”); the Amish; the Jews; environmentalists; animal-rights activists; adulterers (the viciousness of this commentary was the antifeminism of it: “you ladies out there having affairs…” – clearly men don’t adulterate); humanists; people leaving five minutes early; people sitting in the back pews (sinners only half-heartedly embracing God); and the ill (the line went something like: “when God removes his blessing from you because he has given up on your stubborn and sinful ways…and you become ill…”). Oh yes, and the devil blocked up the preacher’s kitchen disposal to keep his mind off godly things. Pity, that.

Theology. Somehow, buried beneath multiple strata of human hate, bigotry, and judgment, there was a message that God loves and Jesus is not angry at humanity. God loves us, as is evident by his soteriological action in history – in spite of our own unworthiness. The emphasis really was on human lack of righteousness. Even though at communion the preacher announced that all were welcome, the message behind his sermon was really the church wasn’t very welcoming. At least I didn’t feel terribly welcome.

Anthropology. Humans are unrighteous. Clearly (in the mind of the preacher) this “great nation has at least ten righteous people in it”, or it would have been destroyed by way of Sodom and Gomorrah. Sadly, the unrighteous love to tempt the righteous away from their godly ways, and seducers are everywhere.

Comparison & Surprises. The only thing that pleasantly surprised me – and this is tied to the church’s Pentecostal theology and worship – was the real emphasis on praise and worship. I personally don’t take to a place where someone will caw out “I worship you Jesus”, but at the same time I respect that worship was not a cerebral activity for these people: it was truly heartfelt.

Order of Service. I guess it follows a very basic Finneyite progression of praise – preaching – altar call. Communion was tucked away in the first fifteen minutes, as part of the praise and worship. I expected some weekly flyer indicating what people would be singing, if there was lectionary (or other) reading, what the sermon would be, instead I got a color flyer all about the church’s pastoral staff, with some room for notes.

Congregational Participation. Very involved. Although there was a choir and a band, a lot of the congregation sang along with them. People stood up and exhorted spontaneously, though people were mostly silent during the sermon.

Sacraments/Ordinances. Communion was held, although I don’t know how often it is done. It was less anamnesis or prolepsis, and more lugubrious meditation on the bloody broken sacrifice of Jesus. (I quote: “That cracker broke like Jesus’s body did…”)

The Role of Scripture. Many people brought their Bibles, and as the pastor preached, making frequent scriptural allusion. (Given the tenuous – as well as tendentious – interpretation of his message – see below – I am tempted to call it scriptural illusion).

Service Theme. Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God? The pastor announced that he was tired of the six months of happy sermons and he wanted to get back to his true calling, conviction. (Apparently this means yelling everyone into disenfranchisement). The sermon was about how we repeatedly fail God in our relationships with the unrighteous (the preacher cleverly turned a few scriptural passages into a puerile five-step developmental “phases of failure”, giving it a veneer of legitimacy). The music was entirely praise-oriented (e.g., singing the words “Praise God” endlessly to the tune of “Amazing Grace”, with the real words occasionally tossed in for variety.)

Being a Stranger. I didn’t really know what was going on, and there seemed to be a lack of order (I am using traditional Protestant or even Roman Catholic worship as a baseline, so my comment is admittedly biased), but I never felt completely lost.

Hospitality. People were friendly, though I am sure I did not quite fit in. I was definitely unknown to the congregation, and I was nicely dressed but probably looked more like something out of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” than your average resident of Western Maryland. Perhaps I’m projecting but I thought I caught people giving me the once-over if I walked past them and as I entered. I do not know if there was a coffee hour; none was mentioned, and frankly I fled at the very end of the altar service.

Something to Take Home. Compassion to people who have been burned by religion. Now I really understand why.

And, (I’ll try to end on a positive note) a real sense of Joy in worship. It’s too bad that the church could not have maintained that Joy with a different theological anthropology.

Closing Note: I tried my best to be respectful (a polite visitor) in spite of an apparent disrespect towards me and many things important to me. But I did not follow multiple temptations, including: standing up and arguing with the pastor; simply standing with my back turned to him during the sermon; or storming out entirely. I also managed to control most of my nonverbals, but I admit I rolled my eyes vigorously a few times.

Seminarian Identity Development

2003-09-13T22:54:00.000-04:00

A recent conversation gives me the opportunity to reflect a little bit on the issue of identity -- particularly, what it means to self-identify as a seminarian. Perhaps this process is to be expected -- between a background in counseling & development and my current education, it is natural to try and observe this developmental process.

Then. In previous graduate programs, I worked full-time (at least 80%, typically 100%) and studied part-time. I was never sure how i identified myself: it often varied based upon how long of an answer I wanted to give. I could either state where I worked during the day; or sometimes, rarely, indicate that I was a graduate student. If i was particularly busy, I could state "lots of different things" and then start to explain which hat I wore on what basis.

This was frustrating. It was never that I didn't have a self-identity, but it was fluid, not sticky: it was hard to grasp hold of and claim for myself. When I was at work, I was thinking about work, but really distracted by what was going on academically (i.e., homework consistently lurked). When I was in class -- evening classes all -- I was typically tired from work, and didn't really focus on work. When I was in social settings, I would not think about anything really; and when I finally got to studying -- fatigue, burnout, and even some boredom.

It wasn't that I wasn't interested in what I was studying (the broader discipline at least, even if some classes droned.) I just felt very fragmented, and the few hours I pegged in my life for studying were already psychically depleted.

Now. Perhaps it is foolish to talk about a "Now" when I am only in my third full week of seminary (or rather, between weeks three and four.) But I can see some gleanings of identity formation.

I.e., at school, I fully identify myself as a seminarian. To other seminarians, it seems that is enough of a rubric. Sometimes I can go further into particular program, or goals, or denominational activities, but "seminarian" often suffices.

When I am at work: I am not truly at work. (Let me clarify that somewhat before I am fired.) I wear the skin of the person who works in my office; I even commit my mind to the work at hand. (Yes, sometimes I think about homework.) But i don't truly feel at home here: my work identity is almost emblematic of the notion of the pilgrim -- I am simply visiting, and my true home is elsewhere.

When I am at home, unless I am relaxing (something i've earned!), or taking care of chores, I am studying -- and not reluctantly or half-heartedly. I love studying. Specifically, I love what I am studying. True, some texts I may skim while others I'll immerse myself in, but I enjoy the process of learning. I enjoy reading from different courses -- worship, church history, bible -- and seeing everything slowly start to congeal and take a new cognitive shape. And if I'm on campus -- I love getting together with other students and talking about* what we've read, learned, or seen. In some respects, I feel like a very lucky person, to have the opportunity to work with such excellent texts and interesting people and slowly begin the process of developing a personal theological identity.

Its a nice feeling, and goes far to unravel any of those "am I doing the right thing" thoughts that were growing in prominence and frequency as the semester started.

*(Pardon me, the seminarian dialect does not say "get together and talk". It says "gather and reflect".)

Word, Worship, World and Wonder

2003-09-05T22:48:00.000-04:00

I've decided that a potential useful -- to me, anyway -- aspect of this blog will be to record and review books as I come across them either in seminary or as part of my general reading. With this in mind, I'm going to submit my first item for consideration...

Word, Worship, World, and Wonder. Karen Lebacqz (1997). Abingdon. 103 pages.

Part of the required reading for my corporate worship class at Wesley, this slim volume discusses what brings people to church -- or does not, as the case sometimes may be. An ordained UCC minister, Lebacqz is better known for her work in ethics (particularly bioethics and feminist ethics) and writes this more as an educated layperson than a theologian.

Lebacqz identifies four key components to institutional worship that are instrumental in making individual churches thrive as communities and places of worship. The discerning reader might identify these four components as none other than... Word, Worship, World, and Wonder. I will address each very briefly in turn:

* Wonder -- Where has the sense of awe gone in our worship? How is it that praising the Good, the Beautiful, and the True has become so repetitive, so abstract and detached? Lebacqz writes (p. 28), "In Calvinist traditions, we are sometimes so word-oriented that we forget the power of images, of silence, of symbols, of scent, of sound, of taste, of touch." To bring back that sense of wonder, worshp must bring us to kairos, or sacred, non-linear time -- the time when all time takes on meaning a sense of emergence.

* Word -- To different degrees, Protestant denominations emphasize the centrality of preaching the Word as part of corporate worship. This Word -- and the words used to preach -- must be relevent to the needs of the people, must speak honest truths (sometimes even painful ones), must be meaningful and vital

* Worship -- or "Word Incarnate" -- Church is a community, not just an hourly gathering of individuals. Lebacqz writes about worship and liturgy not simply as a retreat from the world -- which it certainly can be -- but also as a way of remembering what meaning we should bring to that mundane world. It is an invitation to metanoia, or change and growth. And for this community to thrive, it must be truly welcoming, and remember the occasion to hospitality, to opening your space to Others -- and to being willing to let those others not merely "visit" but transform your space.

* World -- or "Word Incarnate, Again" -- As people of faith, we are not called out of this world, but into it. People of faith, Lebacqz writes, have pastoral, prophetic, and priestly roles in this world: to truly accompany the afflicted; to speak to the evils of society; and to work towards tranformation.

Lebacqz goes on to discuss the notion of separation from/participation in the world., and whether either is truly possible. She argues for Niebuhr's statement that the church's very existence is in fact political. While the kingdom of God cannot be achieved on earth, either to (a) expect it or (b) abandon it leads to despair. It is still something to be worked toward; humanity alone, without God, may not achieve shalom, but it is still a vision that must be worked toward.

Although Lebacqz begins discussing elements of worship, ultimately the book appears more about insitititional (Christian) identity and worldview. What does it mean to be a Christian outside of our weekly hour at Church, and how can our time in church guide that mission?

The UU factor. This book is written for Christians, and perhaps really for Christians in the Reformed tradition, though she does not actively exclude anyone. Some people position UUism outside of Christianity, and that is not an issue I will address here. Much of what Lebacqz addresses towards Reformed Christians actually might resonate with Unitarian Universalists, in particular the emphasis on the Word -- if not the Bible, than other readings, meditations, and then a thematic sermon and on the prophetic role of the church to speak out against the ills of society and to actively work towards tranformation. This book would likely be of value to UU Christians seeking to revitalize their corporate worship and their work, who have perhaps cast off some traditions but now are in need of something new yet still meaningful. Other UUs, if they are not so terribly offended by references to God or Christ, might still find that some of Lebacqz overall sociological commentary is still valid.

New Beginnings

2003-08-18T10:43:00.000-04:00

The Aerie is now up and running.

I have wondered for a while whether I would ever really blog. Part of me thought of blogging as not much more than simply unbridled narcissism: the construction of journal entries which people used to write in the hopes that one day, posthumously, these reflections and observations would be read and appreciated and the sagacity of the author acknowledged.

Then there's the other part of me which acknowledges that blogging may in fact have some inherent intellectual virtue. It allows a greater opportunity for reflection on issues which I might only think about in passing and not take the time to actually pursue; the chance to even open a dialogue and have my own observations challenged (and thus refined); and, the historian-archivist in me acknowledges that as I am beginning my formal seminary studies, it would be an interesting way to track my own professional and theological growth.

But this, of course, leads to the real conundrum for me -- I am a person who, by virtue of entering seminary and ministry, is going to become a form of a public figure, whose faith and philosophy are now being exposed to the world -- or at least select portions of it. Do I really want my "inner workings" thus exposed? I have enough sense of personal and professional boundaries that I am likely to err more on the side of discretion than inappropriate self-disclosure; but will i be so concerned about this that i'll offer little more than "I have a test tomorrow and i'm tired."?

We'll see. Seminary begins officially this Friday, August 22, with my orientation at Wesley Theological, where i'll meet the class of incoming M.Div students from a variety of denominations, and where I'll likely gauge the demographics, and wonder how strongly i'll have to play the role of the token progressive Christian/liberal religious/queer seminarian.

And away we go!

About Peregrinato; or, Who is James Estes?

2003-08-01T01:28:00.000-04:00

Preamble. I like weird words. Words like paean and irenicon. I don't have a favorite word, but I am rather fond of defenestrate. You don't get to use a word like that an awful lot. I know a lot of weird shit. I am a walking compendium of trivia.

Beliefs. Hardly complete; quite heterodox. Christian in orientation; Unitarian Universalist in approach and denominational affiliation. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus Christ, I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in the final reconciliation of all souls with God. And that's the closest to a confessional statement I'll make right here, right now. (Note, canny reader, that I've only stated belief in, not a doctrinal relationship. My Jesus is prophetic; my Christ is mystical.)

Vocation. I am a minister in formation. I'm not sure what form my ministry will take. Maybe counseling. Maybe spiritual direction. Maybe teaching. It is quite possible that my teaching ministry may be manifested in theological librarianship and bibliography. I do believe in the call to ministry, and I do believe I have been called to ministry, even if I am struggling to discern how my skills best fit that call.

Interests & Activities. I am a geek. I confess that too. I like comic books. I like science fiction. I like computer games. I like reading HP Lovecraft and RE Howard, in spite of their florid prose. I love the writings of Tolkien. They are grand and epic and rich and nuanced. They are not mere fantasy; they are mythopoesis. If you think they're mere fantasy, you're wrong. The are filled with numina and grace. And I heart CS Lewis.

I enjoy the creative endeavor. I dabble in photography and drawing. I enjoy writing, and have written quite a bit. I believe that even academic writing must flow; the quality of one's words are not limited to a particular venue. Choose your words carefully; use them well.

Education. I have an undergraduate degree in Religion from The George Washington Univeristy (GW). I have graduate degrees in Library Science (Catholic University) and Counseling/Human Development (again, GW). I am pursuing a graduate theological degree at Wesley Theological Seminary. I anticipate at one point in the future I may do a doctorate in spirituality or pastoral theology.

Classification. I can be cross-referenced under the following descriptors, if you were so inclined: Christian; Unitarian Universalist; seminarian; XNFX; writer; reader; artist; counselor; teacher; geek; bibliothecary; thanatologist; contemplative; pilgrim; eccentric.

About the Blog
This blog began in August 2003 as "The Aerie" on uuchristian.net, on MovableType. MovableType turned out to be fairly powerful, but a bit more convoluted for my present needs. I moved the blog over (experimentally) to TypePad, but I was not persuaded. I experimented (even more briefly) with iBlog, but I was horrified. The blog continued with Blogger (as "The Aerie", with marginal activity) on my occasional domain, lookingeagle.org. In March 2005 I moved it off my domain to blogger, and changed the name to Peregrinato.

Why Peregrinato? I am entranced with pilgrimage--as activity, as spiritual act, as metaphor.