Showing posts with label christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christianity. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Hymn Sings
Once again, I invite you over to The Post Calvin to read my post there today. I talk about hymns and my experiences with them and how they have shaped my faith experience. It's all very liturgical...
Sunday, December 15, 2013
What is the best policy, again?
This morning, I read a blog post about modesty, and I have been musing about it in the back of my mind all day. You should read it and then come back to this post so we can discuss it together.
If you don't want to do that, I'll tl;dr it for you.
1) Women's bodies are policed in frustrating ways from both ends of the spectrum: in magazines, TV shows, movies, etc, women are told to be thinner, fitter, more pleasing to men in visual and sexual contexts, and in churches (as well as other, non-Christian arenas) across the world, women are told to cover up, to strive for plainness, to please men by not leading them into sin.
2) This is baffling to the Christian woman who wrote the blogpost (and to me) because nowhere in the Bible does God or Jesus say that women are are fault for their brothers' lustful stumbles, nor does the Bible ever lay the onus on women to prevent the sinful thoughts of others.
3) We, as Christians and a Church turn modesty into objectification by blaming women for the sins of their Christian brothers, and by making women ashamed of their bodies, telling them that their physical form has been corrupted by Satan into an instrument of sin.
4) The blogger finishes her post by saying "Dress for yourself in a way that is glorifying to God, not men. ... Prioritize strength, dignity and good deeds, and then dress accordingly. Find something that makes you comfortable. Find something that is ethically made. Find something that gives you the freedom to run with abandon into those incoming waves—and revel in this body and this world God gave you to enjoy." In the earlier version of the post that I read, she also included something along the lines of "Wear what makes you happy."
This, my sort-of response post, is something I've been writing in my head for many years, my thoughts on this topic that have been simmering for a long time, and are now coming to the surface because I think I've finally formed an opinion worth standing on.
-=-=-=-=-=-
First of all, I should preface this to all the non-Christian or not-religious readers I may or may not have. I realize that this whole argument may seem pretty dumb to you. The more I study Christianity and faith from the inside, the more I've come to realize how utterly ridiculous it must seem from the outside. I can appreciate the struggles non-Christian people have with both the Church and its faith. I've heard a lot of off-hand summarizations of Christianity that go something like, "A bunch of people who rely on a centuries-old text to dictate their every day life and hold way too much stock in a guy who asked them to drink his blood and eat is body." Our rituals, our beliefs, and our culture are hard to stomach, and I've even spent a lot of my Christian life struggling to get to the bottom of them.
That said, if you disagree with what I say here and would like to have a discussion about it, please remember that, if we come from different foundational beliefs, that discussion is going to be heavy and intimate, and will go deeper than just the words in this post, so maybe we should find a better place to have that conversation than in the comments section or on my Facebook.
-=-=-=-=-=-
I've always had a problem with the "Modesty is the Best Policy!" speeches that we got in church as kids and teenagers. For one thing, the youth group leaders would separate us into two groups--boys and girls--as if our trials in the arena of sexuality and self-expression were too different, and moreover, needed to be kept secret from one another. I always wanted to know what was going on in the boys' conversations about these issues, and I always wanted them to know what was going on in the girls', but that wasn't allowed for some reason.
I don't really think that men's and women's struggles with lust and objectification are vastly different, and I definitely don't think they should be trade secrets that separate us. It's that separation and miscommunication that leads to statements like, "Women shouldn't be allowed to be church leaders or pastors because their bodies will lead the men in the congregation to sin." The truth of it is that both men and women can be distracted by men and women's bodies. If I had a nickel for every girl whose crush on a male pastor or worship leader distracted her from the message of the church, I could probably pay for all the Christmas gifts I bought this year and get myself a little something extra, too. That fact would be more widely known and accepted if men and women in church talked together about things like sexuality and attraction.
The reason the idea of modesty has been on my mind a lot recently (more recently, anyway, than the Sunday School sex talks I got in high school) is because, in college, I became really gung-ho about feminism and gender equality, and it has since changed my view of myself and my role as a woman in Christianity. A lot of topics come into play with the discussion of women in the Church, and modesty is one of them that pops up quite frequently and in rather inconspicuous ways.
For instance, when I was 18 and younger, going to church with my parents or friends, I felt convicted not to wear tank tops. I felt uncomfortable with my shoulders uncovered, not because I didn't like tank-tops in general, but because I didn't think they were something a Godly woman should wear, and I didn't want people at church to think I was anything but Godly.
This attitude persisted for some time into college, but eventually, a fundamental change occurred, and I stopped thinking that showing off my shoulders was unGodly, but I still worried about what people at church would think of me if I did it. I worried, not about men lusting after me, but about women and pastors and indoctrinated children passing judgements about me and my faith because my skirt was too short or my cleavage was too exposed.
I can't attest to whether or not anyone at any of my previous churches actually did pass such judgements on me, but I can say that I was no longer trying to please God. I was trying to please God's followers. I was not even trying to protect men struggling with lustful thoughts; I was trying to protect myself from the scorn of anyone struggling with a judgmental nature.
And I think that was the sin I committed. Not only was I passing judgment prematurely on my brothers and sisters in Christ by assuming that they would think so poorly of me so easily, but I was also putting their opinion of me above God's.
I think the blogger from the above post said it well when she emphasized that women (perhaps specifically Christian women) should not be dressing for men--whether it be to please them sexually or to please them spiritually--or other people in our church congregations. We should be doing everything for the glory of God, and that includes the way we dress. That is different than wearing whatever makes you happy (which may be the reason she has since retracted that statement) because God doesn't think that our purpose on this earth is to merely be happy. But that is also different than policing our bodies or anyone else's bodies and making the argument that one person can prevent another's sin.
If, as we search through our closets in the morning (or, in my case, the pile of semi-clean clothes strewn across the floor...) we are too preoccupied thinking about how we are going to serve our Lord today, or about how our clothes are or are not going to get in the way of our worldly worship getting accomplished, isn't that more important than thinking about how many eyes we will or won't turn with our scoop neck top or our short shorts? This should also be true of men, whose bodies can also be distracting to those who see them. Shouldn't a man be more concerned with whether his T-shirt will be thin and breathable enough for him to do his work at Habitat for Humanity, than with whether the way it accentuates his shoulder blades may lead a fellow volunteer down the path that leads to destruction?
Most importantly, if a Christian does catch themselves objectifying someone who is made in the image of God, shouldn't they do whatever it takes for their own heart to undo that, rather than turn the sin and shame on that person who might not have had any malicious intent, or may have come from a culture where their chosen dress is the norm and is completely socially acceptable? Perhaps, when we catch ourselves in the act of objectification, we should pray to God for wisdom and clarity, to relearn to see that person as a unique individual who fits into God's cosmic plan for the redemption of the world. Perhaps we should find an unobtrusive way reach out to them, to have a conversation or share a meal so that we might come to know and see beyond their bodies. Or perhaps we should just remove ourselves from the situation, quoting scripture to ourselves and our inner demons, as Jesus did during his 40 days in the wilderness.
I think churches and Christians should focus as much or more of their energies on teaching their congregants how to avoid objectifying human beings as they do on teaching women how to cover up their sex-appeal. And I think that pastors and church leaders could make much more headway in the Biblical modesty department if they taught women and men fiscally and morally responsible ways to purchase, make, and wear clothing and bodily adornments instead of telling women that tank tops and mini dresses are the devil's playthings.
If you don't want to do that, I'll tl;dr it for you.
1) Women's bodies are policed in frustrating ways from both ends of the spectrum: in magazines, TV shows, movies, etc, women are told to be thinner, fitter, more pleasing to men in visual and sexual contexts, and in churches (as well as other, non-Christian arenas) across the world, women are told to cover up, to strive for plainness, to please men by not leading them into sin.
2) This is baffling to the Christian woman who wrote the blogpost (and to me) because nowhere in the Bible does God or Jesus say that women are are fault for their brothers' lustful stumbles, nor does the Bible ever lay the onus on women to prevent the sinful thoughts of others.
3) We, as Christians and a Church turn modesty into objectification by blaming women for the sins of their Christian brothers, and by making women ashamed of their bodies, telling them that their physical form has been corrupted by Satan into an instrument of sin.
4) The blogger finishes her post by saying "Dress for yourself in a way that is glorifying to God, not men. ... Prioritize strength, dignity and good deeds, and then dress accordingly. Find something that makes you comfortable. Find something that is ethically made. Find something that gives you the freedom to run with abandon into those incoming waves—and revel in this body and this world God gave you to enjoy." In the earlier version of the post that I read, she also included something along the lines of "Wear what makes you happy."
This, my sort-of response post, is something I've been writing in my head for many years, my thoughts on this topic that have been simmering for a long time, and are now coming to the surface because I think I've finally formed an opinion worth standing on.
-=-=-=-=-=-
First of all, I should preface this to all the non-Christian or not-religious readers I may or may not have. I realize that this whole argument may seem pretty dumb to you. The more I study Christianity and faith from the inside, the more I've come to realize how utterly ridiculous it must seem from the outside. I can appreciate the struggles non-Christian people have with both the Church and its faith. I've heard a lot of off-hand summarizations of Christianity that go something like, "A bunch of people who rely on a centuries-old text to dictate their every day life and hold way too much stock in a guy who asked them to drink his blood and eat is body." Our rituals, our beliefs, and our culture are hard to stomach, and I've even spent a lot of my Christian life struggling to get to the bottom of them.
That said, if you disagree with what I say here and would like to have a discussion about it, please remember that, if we come from different foundational beliefs, that discussion is going to be heavy and intimate, and will go deeper than just the words in this post, so maybe we should find a better place to have that conversation than in the comments section or on my Facebook.
-=-=-=-=-=-
I've always had a problem with the "Modesty is the Best Policy!" speeches that we got in church as kids and teenagers. For one thing, the youth group leaders would separate us into two groups--boys and girls--as if our trials in the arena of sexuality and self-expression were too different, and moreover, needed to be kept secret from one another. I always wanted to know what was going on in the boys' conversations about these issues, and I always wanted them to know what was going on in the girls', but that wasn't allowed for some reason.
I don't really think that men's and women's struggles with lust and objectification are vastly different, and I definitely don't think they should be trade secrets that separate us. It's that separation and miscommunication that leads to statements like, "Women shouldn't be allowed to be church leaders or pastors because their bodies will lead the men in the congregation to sin." The truth of it is that both men and women can be distracted by men and women's bodies. If I had a nickel for every girl whose crush on a male pastor or worship leader distracted her from the message of the church, I could probably pay for all the Christmas gifts I bought this year and get myself a little something extra, too. That fact would be more widely known and accepted if men and women in church talked together about things like sexuality and attraction.
The reason the idea of modesty has been on my mind a lot recently (more recently, anyway, than the Sunday School sex talks I got in high school) is because, in college, I became really gung-ho about feminism and gender equality, and it has since changed my view of myself and my role as a woman in Christianity. A lot of topics come into play with the discussion of women in the Church, and modesty is one of them that pops up quite frequently and in rather inconspicuous ways.
For instance, when I was 18 and younger, going to church with my parents or friends, I felt convicted not to wear tank tops. I felt uncomfortable with my shoulders uncovered, not because I didn't like tank-tops in general, but because I didn't think they were something a Godly woman should wear, and I didn't want people at church to think I was anything but Godly.
This attitude persisted for some time into college, but eventually, a fundamental change occurred, and I stopped thinking that showing off my shoulders was unGodly, but I still worried about what people at church would think of me if I did it. I worried, not about men lusting after me, but about women and pastors and indoctrinated children passing judgements about me and my faith because my skirt was too short or my cleavage was too exposed.
I can't attest to whether or not anyone at any of my previous churches actually did pass such judgements on me, but I can say that I was no longer trying to please God. I was trying to please God's followers. I was not even trying to protect men struggling with lustful thoughts; I was trying to protect myself from the scorn of anyone struggling with a judgmental nature.
And I think that was the sin I committed. Not only was I passing judgment prematurely on my brothers and sisters in Christ by assuming that they would think so poorly of me so easily, but I was also putting their opinion of me above God's.
I think the blogger from the above post said it well when she emphasized that women (perhaps specifically Christian women) should not be dressing for men--whether it be to please them sexually or to please them spiritually--or other people in our church congregations. We should be doing everything for the glory of God, and that includes the way we dress. That is different than wearing whatever makes you happy (which may be the reason she has since retracted that statement) because God doesn't think that our purpose on this earth is to merely be happy. But that is also different than policing our bodies or anyone else's bodies and making the argument that one person can prevent another's sin.
If, as we search through our closets in the morning (or, in my case, the pile of semi-clean clothes strewn across the floor...) we are too preoccupied thinking about how we are going to serve our Lord today, or about how our clothes are or are not going to get in the way of our worldly worship getting accomplished, isn't that more important than thinking about how many eyes we will or won't turn with our scoop neck top or our short shorts? This should also be true of men, whose bodies can also be distracting to those who see them. Shouldn't a man be more concerned with whether his T-shirt will be thin and breathable enough for him to do his work at Habitat for Humanity, than with whether the way it accentuates his shoulder blades may lead a fellow volunteer down the path that leads to destruction?
Most importantly, if a Christian does catch themselves objectifying someone who is made in the image of God, shouldn't they do whatever it takes for their own heart to undo that, rather than turn the sin and shame on that person who might not have had any malicious intent, or may have come from a culture where their chosen dress is the norm and is completely socially acceptable? Perhaps, when we catch ourselves in the act of objectification, we should pray to God for wisdom and clarity, to relearn to see that person as a unique individual who fits into God's cosmic plan for the redemption of the world. Perhaps we should find an unobtrusive way reach out to them, to have a conversation or share a meal so that we might come to know and see beyond their bodies. Or perhaps we should just remove ourselves from the situation, quoting scripture to ourselves and our inner demons, as Jesus did during his 40 days in the wilderness.
I think churches and Christians should focus as much or more of their energies on teaching their congregants how to avoid objectifying human beings as they do on teaching women how to cover up their sex-appeal. And I think that pastors and church leaders could make much more headway in the Biblical modesty department if they taught women and men fiscally and morally responsible ways to purchase, make, and wear clothing and bodily adornments instead of telling women that tank tops and mini dresses are the devil's playthings.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
The War on Christmas
If you have completely read the header image of this blog, you have probably noticed that there is a "Lord" in it, which probably tipped you off (if you are someone who needed tipping off) that it was a quote from the Bible.
Secret's out (if you are someone who thought it was a secret): I am a Christian. I'm pretty deep into it, have been for a long time. It looks like there's no hope for my rehabilitation. The heavenly Doctor has given me only an eternity left to live. In lieu of flowers, please send food because I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while.
All joking aside, I am a Christian. Through and through, I believe in Jesus, I go to Church on Sundays, I pray as daily as I can manage, I read my Bible as daily as I can remember, and I study that Bible and my God in a community with other Christians. I take my faith seriously, and while I struggle, I do try to put my love and worship of God before all else in my life.
Which is why I really hate the wars that people--predominantly Americans, I believe--declare on various "Christian" things. Recently, it has been marriage, but I that's a whole post in and of itself. A more timely war, though, is The War on Christmas. This comes around every year at this time, and I am so sick of it.
I guess I should clarify: specifically, I'm sick of people saying it's a thing.
There are some tangentially-religious topics that the conservative media addresses that should be responded to with care, diplomacy, gentle words, and loving language. But I don't believe this is one of them.
From what I can tell, this particular breed of warmongers fear the "politically correct" army is soiling the holid--I'm sorry, the Christmas Season by using the word "Holiday" instead of the word "Christmas."
There have probably been lawsuits against public displays of affection for Christmas. I think I've heard of people suing to have outdoor nativities removed from courthouses and a quick google search turns up some other weird stuff about banners that said Merry Christmas and discussions pro and against the ACLU. It is unfortunate to me that Christmas, which has already become a time to celebrate capitalism and materialism, has also become the battle ground for free speech. But to a larger degree, the backlash against and the use of these lawsuits as proof that there is a war on Christmas (and therefore Christianity) is what really troubles me.
Ostensibly, the United States is a Christian country. A non-Christian has never been elected president, we swear oaths of office and honesty on the Bible, and people like to pretend that the founding fathers were God-fearing Christians themselves. But, in actuality, we are not a Christian country. Our country has morals and as a society we have a somewhat stable belief system, but we are hardly Christian on the whole, and I don't see that as a bad thing. We are made up almost entirely of immigrants who came here from hundreds of countries and many different religions, and it just makes sense that, even if our country started as a Christian nation (it didn't), is hasn't remained one and it can't try to become one again.
In actuality, Christmas is Christian (obligatory "CHRISTmas" comment). Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, whom Christians believe to have been the incarnation of God who eventually grew up to die for their sins, thus making humans' reunion with God possible. Ostensibly, around the country, Christmas is more than that now. It, like the United States itself, has taken dozens of different cultures from around the globe and mashed them into something that Americans can all celebrate if they want to. The Christmas we get time off work for is based more on an amalgamation of Saint Nicholas's feast day and pagan celebrations of the winter solstice than it is on Christ. It is a holiday where people travel to see their families, exchange gifts under a tree and in giant socks, eat honeyed ham, and watch It's a Wonderful Life. If that family is Christian, they will likely also celebrate the birth of Christ, but if that family is not Christian (and even sometimes if they are) they will skip that part.
So doesn't it make sense that the not-actually-Christian State is a little loose with their actually-Christian-holiday terminology? People who get the time off work, who buy the gifts on sale, who put up the tree and lights and excessive lawn ornamentation aren't necessarily celebrating Christian Christmas, anymore than the people who buy the peeps and hide the eggs are celebrating Christian Easter. So what does it matter to us if they don't want to call it Christmas? Doesn't the term "holiday" fit it better, due to its ambiguity, its fluidity, and its ability to cover a lot of ground in a single word?
I guess my main beef with "the war on Christmas" propaganda is that I don't feel like wishing people "Happy holidays!" makes it harder for me to enjoy the holidays I personally celebrate (which are actually plural, including my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's Eve...). I'd feel the same way if I owned a company that sent out holiday cards, put up banners, or threw parties and I'd feel the same way if I were a teacher who wanted to decorate her classroom in December. Neither my company as a whole nor my classroom as a structure celebrates any holidays. No one is telling me how to celebrate them myself. No one is telling me I can't talk to others about how I celebrate my December holidays.
I do not see how my freedom is impinged, and I do see how my use of the word "Holidays" fits the mold of the season better that "Christmas" for most people that I talk to. It's not a matter of a war against that oh-so-terrible concept of political correctness. It's a matter of accuracy and efficiency. And you know who values efficiency?
Secret's out (if you are someone who thought it was a secret): I am a Christian. I'm pretty deep into it, have been for a long time. It looks like there's no hope for my rehabilitation. The heavenly Doctor has given me only an eternity left to live. In lieu of flowers, please send food because I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while.
All joking aside, I am a Christian. Through and through, I believe in Jesus, I go to Church on Sundays, I pray as daily as I can manage, I read my Bible as daily as I can remember, and I study that Bible and my God in a community with other Christians. I take my faith seriously, and while I struggle, I do try to put my love and worship of God before all else in my life.
Which is why I really hate the wars that people--predominantly Americans, I believe--declare on various "Christian" things. Recently, it has been marriage, but I that's a whole post in and of itself. A more timely war, though, is The War on Christmas. This comes around every year at this time, and I am so sick of it.
I guess I should clarify: specifically, I'm sick of people saying it's a thing.
There are some tangentially-religious topics that the conservative media addresses that should be responded to with care, diplomacy, gentle words, and loving language. But I don't believe this is one of them.
From what I can tell, this particular breed of warmongers fear the "politically correct" army is soiling the holid--I'm sorry, the Christmas Season by using the word "Holiday" instead of the word "Christmas."
There have probably been lawsuits against public displays of affection for Christmas. I think I've heard of people suing to have outdoor nativities removed from courthouses and a quick google search turns up some other weird stuff about banners that said Merry Christmas and discussions pro and against the ACLU. It is unfortunate to me that Christmas, which has already become a time to celebrate capitalism and materialism, has also become the battle ground for free speech. But to a larger degree, the backlash against and the use of these lawsuits as proof that there is a war on Christmas (and therefore Christianity) is what really troubles me.
Ostensibly, the United States is a Christian country. A non-Christian has never been elected president, we swear oaths of office and honesty on the Bible, and people like to pretend that the founding fathers were God-fearing Christians themselves. But, in actuality, we are not a Christian country. Our country has morals and as a society we have a somewhat stable belief system, but we are hardly Christian on the whole, and I don't see that as a bad thing. We are made up almost entirely of immigrants who came here from hundreds of countries and many different religions, and it just makes sense that, even if our country started as a Christian nation (it didn't), is hasn't remained one and it can't try to become one again.
In actuality, Christmas is Christian (obligatory "CHRISTmas" comment). Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, whom Christians believe to have been the incarnation of God who eventually grew up to die for their sins, thus making humans' reunion with God possible. Ostensibly, around the country, Christmas is more than that now. It, like the United States itself, has taken dozens of different cultures from around the globe and mashed them into something that Americans can all celebrate if they want to. The Christmas we get time off work for is based more on an amalgamation of Saint Nicholas's feast day and pagan celebrations of the winter solstice than it is on Christ. It is a holiday where people travel to see their families, exchange gifts under a tree and in giant socks, eat honeyed ham, and watch It's a Wonderful Life. If that family is Christian, they will likely also celebrate the birth of Christ, but if that family is not Christian (and even sometimes if they are) they will skip that part.
So doesn't it make sense that the not-actually-Christian State is a little loose with their actually-Christian-holiday terminology? People who get the time off work, who buy the gifts on sale, who put up the tree and lights and excessive lawn ornamentation aren't necessarily celebrating Christian Christmas, anymore than the people who buy the peeps and hide the eggs are celebrating Christian Easter. So what does it matter to us if they don't want to call it Christmas? Doesn't the term "holiday" fit it better, due to its ambiguity, its fluidity, and its ability to cover a lot of ground in a single word?
I guess my main beef with "the war on Christmas" propaganda is that I don't feel like wishing people "Happy holidays!" makes it harder for me to enjoy the holidays I personally celebrate (which are actually plural, including my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's Eve...). I'd feel the same way if I owned a company that sent out holiday cards, put up banners, or threw parties and I'd feel the same way if I were a teacher who wanted to decorate her classroom in December. Neither my company as a whole nor my classroom as a structure celebrates any holidays. No one is telling me how to celebrate them myself. No one is telling me I can't talk to others about how I celebrate my December holidays.
I do not see how my freedom is impinged, and I do see how my use of the word "Holidays" fits the mold of the season better that "Christmas" for most people that I talk to. It's not a matter of a war against that oh-so-terrible concept of political correctness. It's a matter of accuracy and efficiency. And you know who values efficiency?
And, seriously. If you put yourself in a war against the Borg, I won't even wish you good luck. Luck is irrelevant.
Happy Holidays!
Mary Margaret
Friday, September 13, 2013
Post-Graduate Writer seeking...actually good writing
As many of you saw in this video, I've been writing for almost as long as I can remember. Throughout the various seasons of my life, writing has been for me a hobby, my identity, my anti-drug, and the one social activity I felt most comfortable with. But recently, writing has become that old winter coat you keep in the closet, that has lots of good memories, but for whatever reason--maybe it's too small, maybe the fabric has a weird pattern--you don't like to wear it outside anymore, and when you do, you can't stop thinking about what everyone else must be thinking about your stupid coat.
The metaphor isn't perfect: I still love writing. I can't count the number of books, articles, essays, poems, blog posts, and stories I've read in the past year that have inspired my own creation. I get phrases, characters, scenes, and settings in my head all the time, as I always have, and I know they are just asking me to write them.
It's the sitting down to write them that I dread. Perhaps you've noticed, in reading my blog, that I have a disturbing tendency towards didacticism. I don't like it, and I'm pretty sure most blog readers don't like it, but I can't seem to help it. It's not what the English Department at Calvin College taught me to write, and it's certainly not what I read. And arguably the worst part about my didactic writing is that it's not even good didacticism. It I could pump out an allegory or fable, I would be at least a little impressed. Even essays with well-cited sources, perhaps with charts and pictures, or anything like that to actually support my position would be welcomed at this point. But all I seem to be able to do is write long posts with sort of morals at the end.
And this is true of more than just my blog posts. My NaNoWriMo novels for the past two years have been abysmally moralistic in not-so-subtle and not-so-artistic ways. In 2011, one of my characters was gay and had a mind-numbing soap-box speech about his struggles and how no one is on his side, and in 2012, every artistic choice I made was checked against my desire to have the characters be gender-progressive and good role models for struggling young girls and boys.
Calvin College and its fantastic writing professors taught me art, where to find it, how to find it within myself, how to create it, and how to hone it. But Calvin College's liberal arts core, as well as my education classes and history classes taught me that the world is broken, that there are things terribly wrong with all corners of society, and that the only thing capable of fixing them is the love, the grace, and the justice of God. They also taught me that God works through his people, his "agents of renewal" (kind of a buzz phrase at Calvin...) to bring light to the darkened places, that fighting for social justice is a way that God's people can be conduits of his grace and justice, bringing The Kingdom here on Earth.
Now, technically speaking, good art and effective social justice are not two sides of a coin. They can coexist in this world; they can even be of one energy flowing together. The only problem for me is that I seem to have missed the lessons where smart, talented, and good people taught me how to create that socially just art without boring people to death. So what I've got instead are poor copies of someone else's greater genius that neither emphasize beauty in creation--as art does--nor prompt valuable change--as social justice does.
When I look back at the works I did in high school--the short stories, the poems, and the one novel--I, like most artists looking back at old work, cringe at all the mistakes all the shoddy craftsmanship. But honestly, I wish I could get back to that. I wish I could go back to just writing to write. The artistry might suck, but it would feel better. It would stop being this embarrassment that I stow away in a dark closet somewhere and hope never to have to wear in public. I'm doing nobody any good by writing the way I do now.
If anyone has any suggestions for how to get back into the heart of writing, I'm definitely willing to hear them. What I'm attempting right now is reading fiction, lots of fiction; good fiction, bad fiction, fiction I like, and fiction I don't, in an attempt to jumpstart my desire to create. I've also got a lot of writer's-workshop-type books around my apartment that I'm trying to use. And I've started a writing discipline again, where I write for at least an hour a day for no one at all, maybe on one project, maybe on small one-shot things, or maybe on something that will never see the light of day.
I don't like funks.
The metaphor isn't perfect: I still love writing. I can't count the number of books, articles, essays, poems, blog posts, and stories I've read in the past year that have inspired my own creation. I get phrases, characters, scenes, and settings in my head all the time, as I always have, and I know they are just asking me to write them.
It's the sitting down to write them that I dread. Perhaps you've noticed, in reading my blog, that I have a disturbing tendency towards didacticism. I don't like it, and I'm pretty sure most blog readers don't like it, but I can't seem to help it. It's not what the English Department at Calvin College taught me to write, and it's certainly not what I read. And arguably the worst part about my didactic writing is that it's not even good didacticism. It I could pump out an allegory or fable, I would be at least a little impressed. Even essays with well-cited sources, perhaps with charts and pictures, or anything like that to actually support my position would be welcomed at this point. But all I seem to be able to do is write long posts with sort of morals at the end.
And this is true of more than just my blog posts. My NaNoWriMo novels for the past two years have been abysmally moralistic in not-so-subtle and not-so-artistic ways. In 2011, one of my characters was gay and had a mind-numbing soap-box speech about his struggles and how no one is on his side, and in 2012, every artistic choice I made was checked against my desire to have the characters be gender-progressive and good role models for struggling young girls and boys.
Calvin College and its fantastic writing professors taught me art, where to find it, how to find it within myself, how to create it, and how to hone it. But Calvin College's liberal arts core, as well as my education classes and history classes taught me that the world is broken, that there are things terribly wrong with all corners of society, and that the only thing capable of fixing them is the love, the grace, and the justice of God. They also taught me that God works through his people, his "agents of renewal" (kind of a buzz phrase at Calvin...) to bring light to the darkened places, that fighting for social justice is a way that God's people can be conduits of his grace and justice, bringing The Kingdom here on Earth.
Now, technically speaking, good art and effective social justice are not two sides of a coin. They can coexist in this world; they can even be of one energy flowing together. The only problem for me is that I seem to have missed the lessons where smart, talented, and good people taught me how to create that socially just art without boring people to death. So what I've got instead are poor copies of someone else's greater genius that neither emphasize beauty in creation--as art does--nor prompt valuable change--as social justice does.
When I look back at the works I did in high school--the short stories, the poems, and the one novel--I, like most artists looking back at old work, cringe at all the mistakes all the shoddy craftsmanship. But honestly, I wish I could get back to that. I wish I could go back to just writing to write. The artistry might suck, but it would feel better. It would stop being this embarrassment that I stow away in a dark closet somewhere and hope never to have to wear in public. I'm doing nobody any good by writing the way I do now.
If anyone has any suggestions for how to get back into the heart of writing, I'm definitely willing to hear them. What I'm attempting right now is reading fiction, lots of fiction; good fiction, bad fiction, fiction I like, and fiction I don't, in an attempt to jumpstart my desire to create. I've also got a lot of writer's-workshop-type books around my apartment that I'm trying to use. And I've started a writing discipline again, where I write for at least an hour a day for no one at all, maybe on one project, maybe on small one-shot things, or maybe on something that will never see the light of day.
I don't like funks.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Have I lost my love on the wings I've found?
[Title Explanation Here]
I like to think of myself as strictly a not-heretic, but I have to admit that I have some heretical tendencies. I remember when I was a kid learning the 10 commandments, I thought there was a sort of hierarchy of easiness. My thought process looked something like this:
I like to think of myself as strictly a not-heretic, but I have to admit that I have some heretical tendencies. I remember when I was a kid learning the 10 commandments, I thought there was a sort of hierarchy of easiness. My thought process looked something like this:
1st Easiest #6 - Do not murder.
This one's kind of obvious. I don't think it's possible to accidentally murder anyone, and I figure I'll never want to do it, so there we go. Commandment in the bag.
2nd Easiest #7 - Do not commit adultery.
I think very rarely about any future marriage I might have, and even more rarely about sex, so I'll just skip over this one. Anyway, I figure no one my age could ever break this commandment, so again, in the bag.
Tied in 3rd #1 and #2 - No God but God and No revered images
Duh? How many other gods are there? And what sort of image are we talking here? Like that calf that Aaron, like, welded together? Between my lack of artistic ability and my lack of desire to pray to a cow, I think I'm ok.
Fifth Easiest #5 - Honoring mom and dad
I love my parents. Done and done.
Okay, getting challenging #8 - No stealing
I already broke this once at a friend's birthday party when I really wanted a tiny toy dog they had. But, hey, it was just a little dog, and I'll never do it again.
Fourth Hardest #10 - No coveting
Okay, my neighbor's wife is safe, but that tiny dog was coveted right out of its dollhouse soo...but again, just a dog, and I'll never do it again.
Third Hardest #3 - Don't take the Lord's name in vain
I'm pretty sure I can keep from saying "Oh my God," but peer pressure is a real thing. We'll see how long this lasts.
Second Hardest #4 - Keep the Sabbath holy
What does this even mean?
This is my holy struggle #9 - No false witness
There was the time I stole the dog and had to come up with a lie to cover it up. Then there was the time that that lie worked so well I realized I was good at it and then kept doing it, and then convinced (but really, did I?) my entire first-grade class that I was an alien. Then there was the time that I really wanted the forbidden M&Ms so I told my mom that Dennis had eaten them. And then there was the time I told my brother I'd eaten the horrid milkshake he'd made me even though I'd asked him not to, when really I'd poured it into his cup (he didn't fall for it, by the way). And I want to be a writer, does that mean I can only write boring non-fiction stuff about animals and members of Congress? God, I don't think I can do this. I just don't think I'm cut out to be your servant. I'm going to be confessing this sin every couple of minutes; I hope you're prepared.
After a few years of deep meditation on scripture (or, you know, just actually reading them once) I know I got a few things wrong about how the Big 10 actually apply to everyday life. But it wasn't until I got deep into moving into my new apartment that I realized where my biggest struggles really lie.
Maybe this shouldn't have come as such a shock to me, seeing as I did major in English Language and Literature in college, but as I unpacked my kitchenware, I was surprised by how much heavy and intentional symbolism I found there.
I've got Game of Thrones pint and shot glasses, Marvel Comics tumblers, mugs from London, Calvin's Festival of Faith and Writing, my semester as a student teacher, and even the academic database, JSTOR. I have plastic cups, bowls, and plates from my college dining hall.
It's not like I accidentally collected all of these items from places, things, and events that have meant a lot to me: I collected them because they came from these meaningful places. When I look at them, I don't just see kitchenware. I see all the time I spent enjoying the worlds they come from. When people give me gifts, especially if they're gifts I see or use all the time, I see the giver when I see the gift.
So all that graven image business with the calf and the goldsmithing that went down without God's approval...looking at my kitchen, that all makes a lot more sense. I know that, personally, I feel more connected to places and people when I have related stuff around me. And I have some cross necklaces given to me as gifts that I used to feel the need to wear every day because I felt, in some weird way, like I was wearing my faith.
But if I can see it, if I can touch it, it's not faith; it's knowledge. And if I can see it and touch it, then it was created and therefor is not the creator and doesn't deserve my faith or worship. According to 2 Corinthians 5:7, "we [Christians] walk by faith, not by sight."
In Knowing God, which my church group is reading together right now, Packer talks for at least a whole chapter about graven images. He says basically everything I said here, about how they don't lead to faith or to correct worship, but lead us to worship the creation in place of the creator. I'm not sure that I agree completely with that line of thinking. I think it might be one of those slippery slope conundrums, but I think you can use images and symbols of God to supplement correct worship without crossing over into worshiping the images and symbols themselves.
I don't know that I know what that true closeness feels like, but I bet it feels better than a tarnished silver cross worn begrudgingly day after day.
 |
| A Song of Ice and Tea |
So all that graven image business with the calf and the goldsmithing that went down without God's approval...looking at my kitchen, that all makes a lot more sense. I know that, personally, I feel more connected to places and people when I have related stuff around me. And I have some cross necklaces given to me as gifts that I used to feel the need to wear every day because I felt, in some weird way, like I was wearing my faith.
But if I can see it, if I can touch it, it's not faith; it's knowledge. And if I can see it and touch it, then it was created and therefor is not the creator and doesn't deserve my faith or worship. According to 2 Corinthians 5:7, "we [Christians] walk by faith, not by sight."
In Knowing God, which my church group is reading together right now, Packer talks for at least a whole chapter about graven images. He says basically everything I said here, about how they don't lead to faith or to correct worship, but lead us to worship the creation in place of the creator. I'm not sure that I agree completely with that line of thinking. I think it might be one of those slippery slope conundrums, but I think you can use images and symbols of God to supplement correct worship without crossing over into worshiping the images and symbols themselves.
 |
| My shrine to Michigan Microbrews, created when I moved to Pittsburgh. ...and gradually dismantled afterwards |
Jesus says to Thomas in John 20:29, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Thomas believed Jesus was the messiah...but he only believed because he could see. If we can only feel close to God through cross necklaces, rosary beads, and little tokens that we have come to associate with him, I think we are missing out on the great experience that is the true closeness of faith.
I don't know that I know what that true closeness feels like, but I bet it feels better than a tarnished silver cross worn begrudgingly day after day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)