In Fundamentalism, "rebuke" comes up a lot. It seems to happen all the time. It happens so often that you start to think it's normal after a while - and is often equated with love, so that if someone rebukes you in a nasty way it's because they love you. And after a while, you can't separate love from anger anymore...
...but that's another post.
How does this practical theology manifest itself? The vast majority of actions God is described as having taken in someone's life are classified as "rebukes". Such as, "this situation was such a rebuke to me that I didn't have the faith in God I needed", or "God really rebuked me about this sin via this situation". Even blessings are often "rebukes".
Recently, I had a training session at work that really put me in a foul mood. It was poorly done, the instructor couldn't clarify anything, and it was a large waste of time. It began a tailspin of frustration that threatened to take over my whole day.
I ran home quickly for lunch afterwards, and began to notice that I was continuously stumbling across moment after moment of beauty. The weather was crisp and the sky azure. A stand of trees flamed purple and orange and red and yellow all together. The radio was playing a particularly beautiful piece of music. I found a pretty rock in my coat pocket left there by one of my children in a random act of love.
Now, when I was a Fundamentalist, my attitude towards this would have been that God was rebuking me with all these nice things to remind me I had no right to be upset. The result - I would swallow the rage, put on a smile, and self-righteously thank God for yelling at me and putting me in my place.
But now that I'm learning more of what God is really like, I had a sudden moment of clarity realizing that these beautiful things weren't there to "rebuke" me. They were kindnesses to show me love instead. It was as if God was saying, "I know that was a tough morning. They really need to hire someone who knows how to teach next time, eh? Here's some beautiful things to cheer you up before you start your afternoon of hard work again."
God continues to show Himself to be much kinder, more sympathetic, and infinitely more loving than I had ever previously been taught.
Alleluia.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Friday, October 11, 2013
The Maid Marian
So, Mary.
I've been thinking a lot about her over the last few years.
No, my eebil habitual-ritual Episcopal church is in no way to blame here. Mary is rarely mentioned, and usually only around Christmas time. But ever since I became a mother myself, she has really become an engaging figure.
My first child was colicky. COL. ICK. EEEEEE. We didn't sleep for the first year. My second child didn't have colic, but we still didn't sleep for over a year.
And in that sleep-deprived fog, I wondered - was baby Jesus colicky? Did Mary want to just sob and run away and possibly toss Him out the window at times? There's the Away-In-A-Manger Jesus who didn't cry, but I don't buy it. Here's a being who has lived in paradise, in a state of love His entire existence; who has neither hungered, nor felt pain, nor thirst. And now He's a helpless infant who has a headache and is hungry and has gas and is wet and gets cold and just wants his mommy. (And boob. Yes, if He was anything like my two babies...)
I think baby Jesus squalled with the deepest enormity of loss possible.
Poor Mary.
She was probably 12 or 13. And yes, a 12-13 year old then is nothing like a 12-13 year old today, but still. TWELVE YEARS OOOOOOOLD.
Would you give your really important baby to a 12 year old girl in a third world country to raise?
Didn't think so.
I think God thought an awful lot of Mary. She must have been a pretty impressive person.
So as the interest grew, I started to read up on Mary and found that the Eastern Orthodox really really like her, and they have called her "Theotokos" - the God-Bearer - since at least the 4th century. Now granted, it was more a statement about Jesus' divinity than Mary's role necessarily at the time, but it's a beloved name for her for centuries. For some reason, that name really resonates for me. Plus, I love the Orthodox icon style called "Tender Mercy"; it's so very human compared to the exceptionally white overly-pious Roman Catholic depictions. They obviously love each other dearly. (Except baby Jesus usually looks kinda odd in Orthodox icons. Sorry, Orthodox friends.)
And did you know that Christians believed from very early on that Mary was resurrected and taken to heaven 3 days after her death (or maybe even instead of dying)? Even the Reformers largely found no problem with this belief. At first I rolled my eyes. And then I remembered a recent science article that I read that outlined a fascinating discovery - during gestation, cells from a baby migrate across the placenta and take up residence in the mother for the rest of her life.
Can you imagine? Mary had cells of the Divine Child, the Son of God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords hanging out in her body. Now, I'm not trying to build theology on a shred of new science, but it's not too hard to imagine those cells wouldn't stay dead any more than the rest of Him did. And why wouldn't God resurrect and bring to heaven the woman whose cooperation with the Divine Plan was so utterly important? I mean seriously, Elijah got to, and he ran from God and kinda had a big self-centered pity party for a while.
Some other traditional doctrines I have some trouble with. Like the Immaculate Conception. It seems to me to have grown out of a mistaken (IMHO) belief that Jesus couldn't have avoided the stain of sin if He had been gestated inside a sinner. And the perpetual virginity of Mary - I'm not as hung up on sex being inherently evil as a lot of ancient theologians were, so it does nothing to Mary's character in my mind to think she had a normal married life after the birth of Jesus. (In fact, I kinda hope she did. That would really stink to be married and not get to have sex.) (And, in the days before birth control, only have one baby. Babies are awesome, even if they never let you sleep.) And the whole Queen of Heaven thing? Kinda sketchy to me. Sorry, Catholic friends.
Confession time - I've started praying the rosary occasionally now too. Don't panic, so did ol' Marty Luther and a lot of the Reformers, though obviously not in its current form. I've modified how I practice it and tried to approach the older form, mostly because I'm pretty uncomfortable asking Mary to pray for me. I mean really, we've never met, and she probably has better things to be doing. I don't use the Fatima prayer, because it's a recent addition that smacks of cloying Fundy-Catholicism to me. (Yes, Catholics indeed have their Fundies.) I'm not a huge fan of the Salve Regina prayer either for similar reasons.
But despite cutting out a lot of it, meditating on the mysteries while I say the first half of the Hail Mary (or "rejoice, Mary" as some translations put it) is a joy, and it brings peace and comfort. So hey, I'm not fighting it.
No, I don't think anyone other than the Holy Spirit intercedes when I pray. But Mary isn't just the disposable wrapper Christ came in, as I've heard somebody else say recently. Being out of Fundamentalism has opened up the ability to think of a woman as someone special for once, someone to be highly honored and respected.
And that is just beautiful.
I've been thinking a lot about her over the last few years.
No, my eebil habitual-ritual Episcopal church is in no way to blame here. Mary is rarely mentioned, and usually only around Christmas time. But ever since I became a mother myself, she has really become an engaging figure.
My first child was colicky. COL. ICK. EEEEEE. We didn't sleep for the first year. My second child didn't have colic, but we still didn't sleep for over a year.
And in that sleep-deprived fog, I wondered - was baby Jesus colicky? Did Mary want to just sob and run away and possibly toss Him out the window at times? There's the Away-In-A-Manger Jesus who didn't cry, but I don't buy it. Here's a being who has lived in paradise, in a state of love His entire existence; who has neither hungered, nor felt pain, nor thirst. And now He's a helpless infant who has a headache and is hungry and has gas and is wet and gets cold and just wants his mommy. (And boob. Yes, if He was anything like my two babies...)
I think baby Jesus squalled with the deepest enormity of loss possible.
Poor Mary.
She was probably 12 or 13. And yes, a 12-13 year old then is nothing like a 12-13 year old today, but still. TWELVE YEARS OOOOOOOLD.
Would you give your really important baby to a 12 year old girl in a third world country to raise?
Didn't think so.
I think God thought an awful lot of Mary. She must have been a pretty impressive person.
So as the interest grew, I started to read up on Mary and found that the Eastern Orthodox really really like her, and they have called her "Theotokos" - the God-Bearer - since at least the 4th century. Now granted, it was more a statement about Jesus' divinity than Mary's role necessarily at the time, but it's a beloved name for her for centuries. For some reason, that name really resonates for me. Plus, I love the Orthodox icon style called "Tender Mercy"; it's so very human compared to the exceptionally white overly-pious Roman Catholic depictions. They obviously love each other dearly. (Except baby Jesus usually looks kinda odd in Orthodox icons. Sorry, Orthodox friends.)
And did you know that Christians believed from very early on that Mary was resurrected and taken to heaven 3 days after her death (or maybe even instead of dying)? Even the Reformers largely found no problem with this belief. At first I rolled my eyes. And then I remembered a recent science article that I read that outlined a fascinating discovery - during gestation, cells from a baby migrate across the placenta and take up residence in the mother for the rest of her life.
Can you imagine? Mary had cells of the Divine Child, the Son of God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords hanging out in her body. Now, I'm not trying to build theology on a shred of new science, but it's not too hard to imagine those cells wouldn't stay dead any more than the rest of Him did. And why wouldn't God resurrect and bring to heaven the woman whose cooperation with the Divine Plan was so utterly important? I mean seriously, Elijah got to, and he ran from God and kinda had a big self-centered pity party for a while.
Some other traditional doctrines I have some trouble with. Like the Immaculate Conception. It seems to me to have grown out of a mistaken (IMHO) belief that Jesus couldn't have avoided the stain of sin if He had been gestated inside a sinner. And the perpetual virginity of Mary - I'm not as hung up on sex being inherently evil as a lot of ancient theologians were, so it does nothing to Mary's character in my mind to think she had a normal married life after the birth of Jesus. (In fact, I kinda hope she did. That would really stink to be married and not get to have sex.) (And, in the days before birth control, only have one baby. Babies are awesome, even if they never let you sleep.) And the whole Queen of Heaven thing? Kinda sketchy to me. Sorry, Catholic friends.
Confession time - I've started praying the rosary occasionally now too. Don't panic, so did ol' Marty Luther and a lot of the Reformers, though obviously not in its current form. I've modified how I practice it and tried to approach the older form, mostly because I'm pretty uncomfortable asking Mary to pray for me. I mean really, we've never met, and she probably has better things to be doing. I don't use the Fatima prayer, because it's a recent addition that smacks of cloying Fundy-Catholicism to me. (Yes, Catholics indeed have their Fundies.) I'm not a huge fan of the Salve Regina prayer either for similar reasons.
But despite cutting out a lot of it, meditating on the mysteries while I say the first half of the Hail Mary (or "rejoice, Mary" as some translations put it) is a joy, and it brings peace and comfort. So hey, I'm not fighting it.
No, I don't think anyone other than the Holy Spirit intercedes when I pray. But Mary isn't just the disposable wrapper Christ came in, as I've heard somebody else say recently. Being out of Fundamentalism has opened up the ability to think of a woman as someone special for once, someone to be highly honored and respected.
And that is just beautiful.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Attitude Copping
Today included another reminder of how opposite Fundamentalism is to the Gospel of the living God.
But let's back up, and start with an illustrative story:
My former pastor from Halfway Fundy Church sings very well. And by that woeful understatement, I mean he has a tenor voice straight from heaven. When I was in college with him, singing was a major part of his life. He was in choirs, sang solos, and even won a major university-wide competition in vocal performance. He loved to sing, and everyone within earshot loved to hear him. His is a true and rare gift.
Once I started attending his church several years after college, I noticed that he didn't sing much at all. We didn't have a choir and rarely had "special music", but there were occasional special events that involved music and his participation was conspicuously absent. Now, I don't remember if I knew this from a casual conversation or if it was part of a sermon but I discovered that he essentially refuses to sing anymore. Why?
One major reason is because he's afraid his attitude and/or motives for doing so "aren't right".
Rather than bless those around him, he buries his gift because he apparently thinks his attitude is too geared towards pride about it. (Please note - I don't tell this story to criticize him, I tell it to show how pervasive and life-changing this philosophy is.)
As you can see, in Fundamentalism, one's attitude and motives are of paramount importance - but the above illustration is by no means the only facet of the issue. There are a number of manifestations of this core belief. For starters, you can be conveniently accused of not having the right attitude when someone doesn't like what you're doing, especially if they can't really prove you actually did something wrong. The more you protest, the more obvious your "attitude problem" becomes. Or, it can be a method of controlling the tender soul, as no matter how in line your actions are with Fundamentalism's list of rules you're still not good enough. It brings paralyzing self-introspection and an ungracious judgementalism to others as you not only become a policer of deeds but of thoughts. And worst of all: God is "unable to use" someone with a "bad attitude". Something as simple as a misplaced motive can thwart His moving and blessing entirely. Some god, eh?
I just love how God keeps exposing Fundamentalism's tendrils in my brain with His love and goodness. This last Sunday, I heard a sermon that turned this thinking on its head. Surprisingly, it started out very similarly:
So worrying about my motives isn't going to purify them. God will do that, in time. Growing in grace, learning Love and Truth, and making mistakes along the way. It's not my job to do, it's just my job to just show up. And I don't have to be afraid to do something because of the possibility of impure motives.
No wonder Christ said His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
But let's back up, and start with an illustrative story:
My former pastor from Halfway Fundy Church sings very well. And by that woeful understatement, I mean he has a tenor voice straight from heaven. When I was in college with him, singing was a major part of his life. He was in choirs, sang solos, and even won a major university-wide competition in vocal performance. He loved to sing, and everyone within earshot loved to hear him. His is a true and rare gift.
Once I started attending his church several years after college, I noticed that he didn't sing much at all. We didn't have a choir and rarely had "special music", but there were occasional special events that involved music and his participation was conspicuously absent. Now, I don't remember if I knew this from a casual conversation or if it was part of a sermon but I discovered that he essentially refuses to sing anymore. Why?
One major reason is because he's afraid his attitude and/or motives for doing so "aren't right".
Rather than bless those around him, he buries his gift because he apparently thinks his attitude is too geared towards pride about it. (Please note - I don't tell this story to criticize him, I tell it to show how pervasive and life-changing this philosophy is.)
As you can see, in Fundamentalism, one's attitude and motives are of paramount importance - but the above illustration is by no means the only facet of the issue. There are a number of manifestations of this core belief. For starters, you can be conveniently accused of not having the right attitude when someone doesn't like what you're doing, especially if they can't really prove you actually did something wrong. The more you protest, the more obvious your "attitude problem" becomes. Or, it can be a method of controlling the tender soul, as no matter how in line your actions are with Fundamentalism's list of rules you're still not good enough. It brings paralyzing self-introspection and an ungracious judgementalism to others as you not only become a policer of deeds but of thoughts. And worst of all: God is "unable to use" someone with a "bad attitude". Something as simple as a misplaced motive can thwart His moving and blessing entirely. Some god, eh?
I just love how God keeps exposing Fundamentalism's tendrils in my brain with His love and goodness. This last Sunday, I heard a sermon that turned this thinking on its head. Surprisingly, it started out very similarly:
"How often do we have secret ulterior motives even when we're trying to do the right thing?"I braced a little for the expected moralizing to then, therefore, be sure to examine my motives and make sure they're right - dishonest wretch that I am - because I can't trust my heart, etc. However, there was no condemnation. I was instead surprised by a completely different approach:
"The fact is, we play this game a lot in our own heads even if no one else knows about it. And thank God that God's kingdom doesn't depend on us having the right attitude or the purest of motives 100% of the time - otherwise God would never get anything done through us."Wait, what? You mean I don't have to triple-scrutinize my motives to make sure they're purer than the wind-driven snow or I miss out on potential blessings? (Wait, is desiring blessing an ulterior motive too? Let me examine myself again...)
"Sometimes all that God needs is for us to just show up, whether we're willing or not, whether our motives are for God's glory and the in-breaking of God's kingdom around us or not, and whether we secretly hope there's something in it for us or not, and the rest will follow.... And despite our ineffectiveness and our own brokenness that causes us to act out of selfish motives, God's grace is able to claim what we do have to give and use it anyway. God is able to redeem it."The fact is, motives are a complex thing. And the more you think about them, the more complex they become. But doesn't this fit the Biblical pattern better? How many times did God interview someone for their motives before using them? Baalam, anyone?
So worrying about my motives isn't going to purify them. God will do that, in time. Growing in grace, learning Love and Truth, and making mistakes along the way. It's not my job to do, it's just my job to just show up. And I don't have to be afraid to do something because of the possibility of impure motives.
No wonder Christ said His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
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