In the readings at church today, Jesus, in Luke's Gospel, turns the world upside down speaking the glorious words of the Beatitudes:
Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
‘Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
‘Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
‘Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
‘Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
‘But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
‘Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.
‘Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.
‘Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets. Luke 6:20-26
My friends, that's how Jesus describes life in the Kingdom of God. Can't you see why there were those who wanted to kill him? His words are the very opposite of what we, in our worldly ways, think of as success in life.
The Old Testament reading today, from Jeremiah, speaks to us of hearts. In my previous post, I joked about hearts at the very end:
Of course I could be wrong, because I tend to lead with my heart, then follow with my mind. Some folks seem to have no hearts. I can't think what keeps them alive.
Perhaps those final words had been better left unsaid, because some folks took them seriously and personally and were offended by them. For that I am sorry.
The reading today from Jeremiah brought me up short:
The heart is devious above all else;
it is perverse—
who can understand it?
I the Lord test the mind
and search the heart,
to give to all according to their ways,
according to the fruit of their doings. Jeremiah 17:9-10
Plainly, judging hearts is best left to God.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Friday, February 9, 2007
I Lead With My Heart
Scott at Mad Hare has really a cute dog picture and a hilarious rabbit video up at his site. However, it was this post of his that caught my eye:
Invest wisely
When i contemplate the rhetoric that flies around in our society about why discrimination against glbt
folk is somehow okay I always end up back at one thought: On one side
are folks who passionately argue in support of their beliefs; on the
other folks who passionately argue in support of their lives.
Dialogue among people of widely divergent views and beliefs can be productive. That's obvious. i suspect such dialogue has the greatest potential to yield fruit when all involved are making a similar degree of personal investment in the process.
So is there room for dialogue among people who don't agree on foundational issues? Yes, if the personal
stakes of the people involved are comparable.
I could not agree more. The personal investment of the folks on the two sides of the discussion are not necessarily comparable. Scott and other GLTB folks argue for their lives, and are called upon to make the same arguments time and time again. I believe that's why I get impatient with the discussions.
Also, in my opinion, those who argue against equal rights for GLTB are really not talking about human beings, but about sex - what they see as "icky" sex. They don't say that, but that's what much of the talk is about under cover of euphemisms. Especially within the church it's often under cover of the Bible. For someone like Scott, who is just now taking tentative steps back into the church community, this has to be discouraging.
Then comes this from MadPriest:
Let me give you an example. A man who has been told by his doctor that he is suffering from cancer will feel anguish. A man who is a hypochondriac who believes he is suffering from cancer, even though he has not seen a doctor) will feel a similar anguish. On the surface their pain is the same. In mundane terms they are both suffering real pain. But, of course, the anguish of the first man is "real" whilst the anguish of the second man is "unreal."
As I have said before, I am a utilitarian, and so, for me, it is obvious that you alleviate the real pain before addressing "unreal" pain.
Why is it that GLTB Christians are repeatedly called to defend their desire for full inclusion in the life of the church by their fellow Christians? The church should be in the forefront in the fight for mercy, and justice, and equality for all and not dragging behind the secular authorities. What is sadly wanting in church leaders (not all, but some) is the will and the courage to move forward. Those in authority generally must be pushed toward change, or it doesn't happen. Who's to push them? The people under their care, of course. The personal stakes of the parties involved are not comparable. My personal investment is not comparable to Scott's.
MadPriest's post links to An
Open Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury from Jeffery J.Martinhauk of Leaning Towards Justice. It's difficult to pick sections of the letter to quote, so my suggestion is to read the whole thing. Jeffery's letter is eloquent. I totally agree with him when he says that the time for defensive arguments is past. In my experience, what changes minds are not so much defensive arguments, but engaging with GLTB folks face to face, and listening intently, and hearing their stories.
The more I see of the discussions of the pros and cons of full inclusion of GLTB members in the life of the church, the more passionate I become in arguing for inclusivity. Why are we even arguing this? I simply cannot see my Lord Jesus, if he walked the earth today, taking a stand for exclusion. The Gospels speak to me of acceptance. Those he seemed to come down hardest on were the hypocrites, and those in leadership who laid heavy burdens on other people, and those who were smugly self-justifying.
Of course I could be wrong, because I tend to lead with my heart, then follow with my mind. Some folks seem to have no hearts. I can't think what keeps them alive.
Invest wisely
When i contemplate the rhetoric that flies around in our society about why discrimination against glbt
folk is somehow okay I always end up back at one thought: On one side
are folks who passionately argue in support of their beliefs; on the
other folks who passionately argue in support of their lives.
Dialogue among people of widely divergent views and beliefs can be productive. That's obvious. i suspect such dialogue has the greatest potential to yield fruit when all involved are making a similar degree of personal investment in the process.
So is there room for dialogue among people who don't agree on foundational issues? Yes, if the personal
stakes of the people involved are comparable.
I could not agree more. The personal investment of the folks on the two sides of the discussion are not necessarily comparable. Scott and other GLTB folks argue for their lives, and are called upon to make the same arguments time and time again. I believe that's why I get impatient with the discussions.
Also, in my opinion, those who argue against equal rights for GLTB are really not talking about human beings, but about sex - what they see as "icky" sex. They don't say that, but that's what much of the talk is about under cover of euphemisms. Especially within the church it's often under cover of the Bible. For someone like Scott, who is just now taking tentative steps back into the church community, this has to be discouraging.
Then comes this from MadPriest:
Let me give you an example. A man who has been told by his doctor that he is suffering from cancer will feel anguish. A man who is a hypochondriac who believes he is suffering from cancer, even though he has not seen a doctor) will feel a similar anguish. On the surface their pain is the same. In mundane terms they are both suffering real pain. But, of course, the anguish of the first man is "real" whilst the anguish of the second man is "unreal."
As I have said before, I am a utilitarian, and so, for me, it is obvious that you alleviate the real pain before addressing "unreal" pain.
Why is it that GLTB Christians are repeatedly called to defend their desire for full inclusion in the life of the church by their fellow Christians? The church should be in the forefront in the fight for mercy, and justice, and equality for all and not dragging behind the secular authorities. What is sadly wanting in church leaders (not all, but some) is the will and the courage to move forward. Those in authority generally must be pushed toward change, or it doesn't happen. Who's to push them? The people under their care, of course. The personal stakes of the parties involved are not comparable. My personal investment is not comparable to Scott's.
MadPriest's post links to An
Open Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury from Jeffery J.Martinhauk of Leaning Towards Justice. It's difficult to pick sections of the letter to quote, so my suggestion is to read the whole thing. Jeffery's letter is eloquent. I totally agree with him when he says that the time for defensive arguments is past. In my experience, what changes minds are not so much defensive arguments, but engaging with GLTB folks face to face, and listening intently, and hearing their stories.
The more I see of the discussions of the pros and cons of full inclusion of GLTB members in the life of the church, the more passionate I become in arguing for inclusivity. Why are we even arguing this? I simply cannot see my Lord Jesus, if he walked the earth today, taking a stand for exclusion. The Gospels speak to me of acceptance. Those he seemed to come down hardest on were the hypocrites, and those in leadership who laid heavy burdens on other people, and those who were smugly self-justifying.
Of course I could be wrong, because I tend to lead with my heart, then follow with my mind. Some folks seem to have no hearts. I can't think what keeps them alive.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
To Rid the American Continent of the Episcopal Church
Scott at Mad Hare links to this article at The Christian Post.
Lay Episcopalians for the Anglican Communion (LEAC) urged for a new orthodox Anglican structure in North America that would operate independently from the worldwide Anglican body until the Communion formally rids the American continent of the Episcopal Church and charters a reliable replacement province for orthodox Anglicans.
I know nothing about The Christian Post, nor do I know anything about this group, but in the comments at Scott's site, I wrote this:
Do you think that this is a hint for those in TEC to be beheaded like Thomas Becket?
Henry II, from A Man for All Seasons: "Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest?"
Of course, I'm joking, but the words of Henry II did pop into my mind, as they did into Scott's mind. There's no doubt they want to be rid of us.
UPDATE: Rick Allen in the comments tells me this:
...it was Henry II who had (perhaps inadvertently) St. Thomas Becket killed in the 12th century, not by beheading by sword blows to the head.
He is correct. It's my history mistake. Sorry about that.
Lay Episcopalians for the Anglican Communion (LEAC) urged for a new orthodox Anglican structure in North America that would operate independently from the worldwide Anglican body until the Communion formally rids the American continent of the Episcopal Church and charters a reliable replacement province for orthodox Anglicans.
I know nothing about The Christian Post, nor do I know anything about this group, but in the comments at Scott's site, I wrote this:
Do you think that this is a hint for those in TEC to be beheaded like Thomas Becket?
Henry II, from A Man for All Seasons: "Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest?"
Of course, I'm joking, but the words of Henry II did pop into my mind, as they did into Scott's mind. There's no doubt they want to be rid of us.
UPDATE: Rick Allen in the comments tells me this:
...it was Henry II who had (perhaps inadvertently) St. Thomas Becket killed in the 12th century, not by beheading by sword blows to the head.
He is correct. It's my history mistake. Sorry about that.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Confessions of a Recovering Homophobe - Part IV
My dear readers, you've been patient with my long story of recovery. If you care to read them, you will find links to the previous posts here: Part I, Part II, and Part III.
At the end of Part III, I had just returned from a week in luxury in a southwestern city with gay friends of my sister. I called my visit with T. and C. an intervention, because I was immersed in gay society in that city. It was a life-changing experience.
Upon returning home, decompression was in order to facilitate my return to ordinary, everyday life.
T. and C. and I kept in touch sporadically through occasional email exchanges. What I did not know while I was with them is that they had been having relationship problems for some time. Several months after my visit, T. and C. split up. They had been together for 15 years, and the break-up was wrenching on both sides. After the split, I pretty much lost touch with C.
What I have not mentioned is that T. was a Republican political strategist and lobbyist. Now I have never been able to understand how a gay man or a lesbian can be a Republican. Pardon me if you read this, and you are a gay or lesbian Republican, but I don't get it at all. All I've been able to come up with regarding T., is that he cries about the gay-bashing of the Republican Party all the way to the bank.
In the months after returning home, I learned more specifics about the activities of T.'s companies. Every cause for which he lobbied and strategized, I was diametrically opposed to. I opposed every candidate in whose campaigns his companies were involved. Often the campaigning took a very low road, an appallingly low road. Frankly, I was shocked. I'm not naive enough to think that only Republicans do dirty campaigning. Democrats do it, too. The fact is that I was never personally acquainted with anyone who engaged in the activity.
Some of my good will towards T. faded. On the one hand, he dearly loved my sister, and he had done me a great favor by welcoming me royally into his home and his life, despite knowing that I had been reluctant to get too close to his - shall I say it? - "manner of life". I couldn't forget that. I couldn't forget that my stay at his house was transformational for me in a very good way.
I thought I wouldn't be seeing T. again soon, so I put the political machinations out of my mind. He was, after all, not the only one doing that kind of stuff. T. never talked about his business nor about politics while I was around. Never. I now understood why. One would need to be discreet about that sort of activity. And he knew I was a Democrat.
In the spring of 2004, my sister and brother-in-law and several gay friends who had birthdays near the same date as my sister decided to celebrate in New Orleans. My sister and BIL planned to visit us for one day during this quick trip.
A few weeks before the trip to New Orleans, my sister called and told me that T. wanted to come to my home with her and my BIL and bring his new partner B. I said, "Fine." After talking to her, I thought to myself, "How am I going to get through this visit, knowing what I know about T.'s political activities?" Poor T.; first I have a problem because he's gay, and now because he's a Republican strategist, working for causes I despise. In the midst of my fretting, I remembered St. Benedict words, "All visitors should be welcomed as Christ." Well, that settled it for me; no more fretting. I had the answer to my dilemma. My husband was not exactly thrilled to hear about the visit, but he went along.
Since ours is an empty nest, and we have not moved to a smaller house, we have bedrooms to spare. Our guests arrived, and I introduced T., and we met B., who was a absolute dear. I took them upstairs to unload their luggage and showed them the rooms and told them to sort themselves out wherever they chose. When I came back downstairs, my husband asked me who was sleeping where. I said that T. and B. had chosen our daughter's old room. He said, "That has a queen bed in it." I said, "Yes. Which room did you want them in? The one with the twin beds?" He laughed.
That evening at dinner, my sister decreed that we were not to talk politics, which was probably a good thing. My sister and BIL were both Republicans and Bush supporters. They got their news from Fox and loved Bill O'Reilly. We'd had a number of heated discussions on politics, Fox News, and Bill O'Reilly, but we found that we had to limit them, because they tended to become too hot.
During dinner, I did manage to sneak in one political question. I asked B. if he was a Bush admirer. He said, "No, I am not." I said, "Yes!" End of conversation. There we were three Democrats and three Republicans, equal in number, but no talk of politics. Once, when B. got up to help me carry things into the kitchen, we were whispering to each other about politics, so as not to disobey my sister's orders, and we heard her call out, "We hear you." Before the visit was over, B. and I managed to sneak in a few more conversations about politics.
All went well during the visit. We took them on a boat ride on the bayou and to lunch at a beautiful plantation house, and then they were off to the celebrations in New Orleans, where (God bless her) my sister managed to break her foot in the French Quarter on the uneven brick sidewalks.
That's my recovery story. Any who have stayed with me are most patient readers.
UPDATE: I spoke to T. on the phone today, and he told me that he had changed his voter registration from Republican to Independent. I told him that I was pleased. 4-23-07
At the end of Part III, I had just returned from a week in luxury in a southwestern city with gay friends of my sister. I called my visit with T. and C. an intervention, because I was immersed in gay society in that city. It was a life-changing experience.
Upon returning home, decompression was in order to facilitate my return to ordinary, everyday life.
T. and C. and I kept in touch sporadically through occasional email exchanges. What I did not know while I was with them is that they had been having relationship problems for some time. Several months after my visit, T. and C. split up. They had been together for 15 years, and the break-up was wrenching on both sides. After the split, I pretty much lost touch with C.
What I have not mentioned is that T. was a Republican political strategist and lobbyist. Now I have never been able to understand how a gay man or a lesbian can be a Republican. Pardon me if you read this, and you are a gay or lesbian Republican, but I don't get it at all. All I've been able to come up with regarding T., is that he cries about the gay-bashing of the Republican Party all the way to the bank.
In the months after returning home, I learned more specifics about the activities of T.'s companies. Every cause for which he lobbied and strategized, I was diametrically opposed to. I opposed every candidate in whose campaigns his companies were involved. Often the campaigning took a very low road, an appallingly low road. Frankly, I was shocked. I'm not naive enough to think that only Republicans do dirty campaigning. Democrats do it, too. The fact is that I was never personally acquainted with anyone who engaged in the activity.
Some of my good will towards T. faded. On the one hand, he dearly loved my sister, and he had done me a great favor by welcoming me royally into his home and his life, despite knowing that I had been reluctant to get too close to his - shall I say it? - "manner of life". I couldn't forget that. I couldn't forget that my stay at his house was transformational for me in a very good way.
I thought I wouldn't be seeing T. again soon, so I put the political machinations out of my mind. He was, after all, not the only one doing that kind of stuff. T. never talked about his business nor about politics while I was around. Never. I now understood why. One would need to be discreet about that sort of activity. And he knew I was a Democrat.
In the spring of 2004, my sister and brother-in-law and several gay friends who had birthdays near the same date as my sister decided to celebrate in New Orleans. My sister and BIL planned to visit us for one day during this quick trip.
A few weeks before the trip to New Orleans, my sister called and told me that T. wanted to come to my home with her and my BIL and bring his new partner B. I said, "Fine." After talking to her, I thought to myself, "How am I going to get through this visit, knowing what I know about T.'s political activities?" Poor T.; first I have a problem because he's gay, and now because he's a Republican strategist, working for causes I despise. In the midst of my fretting, I remembered St. Benedict words, "All visitors should be welcomed as Christ." Well, that settled it for me; no more fretting. I had the answer to my dilemma. My husband was not exactly thrilled to hear about the visit, but he went along.
Since ours is an empty nest, and we have not moved to a smaller house, we have bedrooms to spare. Our guests arrived, and I introduced T., and we met B., who was a absolute dear. I took them upstairs to unload their luggage and showed them the rooms and told them to sort themselves out wherever they chose. When I came back downstairs, my husband asked me who was sleeping where. I said that T. and B. had chosen our daughter's old room. He said, "That has a queen bed in it." I said, "Yes. Which room did you want them in? The one with the twin beds?" He laughed.
That evening at dinner, my sister decreed that we were not to talk politics, which was probably a good thing. My sister and BIL were both Republicans and Bush supporters. They got their news from Fox and loved Bill O'Reilly. We'd had a number of heated discussions on politics, Fox News, and Bill O'Reilly, but we found that we had to limit them, because they tended to become too hot.
During dinner, I did manage to sneak in one political question. I asked B. if he was a Bush admirer. He said, "No, I am not." I said, "Yes!" End of conversation. There we were three Democrats and three Republicans, equal in number, but no talk of politics. Once, when B. got up to help me carry things into the kitchen, we were whispering to each other about politics, so as not to disobey my sister's orders, and we heard her call out, "We hear you." Before the visit was over, B. and I managed to sneak in a few more conversations about politics.
All went well during the visit. We took them on a boat ride on the bayou and to lunch at a beautiful plantation house, and then they were off to the celebrations in New Orleans, where (God bless her) my sister managed to break her foot in the French Quarter on the uneven brick sidewalks.
That's my recovery story. Any who have stayed with me are most patient readers.
UPDATE: I spoke to T. on the phone today, and he told me that he had changed his voter registration from Republican to Independent. I told him that I was pleased. 4-23-07
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
My Civic Duty
At this time, our Congress people are focused on some type of resolution which will express disapproval of President Bush's "surge" or escalation in Iraq. Whatever they manage to pass will not stop the escalation, unless they cut off funding for the "surge", which they probably will not do for fear of being seen as "not supporting the troops".
My advice to them would be not to spend all their congressional time on Iraq, and to give attention to relations between the US and Iran. Here's a likely scenario that I see developing.
The bellicose rhetoric has already been ramped up. I envision a trumped up or exaggerated "incident", which will require an immediate response "to protect the troops". Bush will go forward with some sort of attack on Iran, without seeking permission from Congress. He'll just do it. Frankly, this scares the hell out of me.
Now I fervantly hope that that my prediction comes to nought. Nevertheless, this seems an appropriate time for me to get in touch with my representative, my senators, and those in the leadership in Congress, to call this matter to their attention. Perhaps, they could do something to prevent this from happening.
What caught my attention was this piece from The Atlantic by James Fallows. In it he says:
Deciding what to do next about Iraq is hard — on the merits, and in the politics. It’s hard on the merits because whatever comes next, from “surge” to “get out now” and everything in between, will involve suffering, misery, and dishonor. It’s just a question of by whom and for how long. On a balance-of-misery basis, my own view changed last year from “we can’t afford to leave” to “we can’t afford to stay.” And the whole issue is hard in its politics because even Democrats too young to remember Vietnam know that future Karl Roves will dog them for decades with accusations of “cut-and-run” and “betraying” troops unless they can get Republicans to stand with them on limiting funding and forcing the policy to change.
By comparison, Iran is easy: on the merits, in the politics. War with Iran would be a catastrophe that would make us look back fondly on the minor inconvenience of being bogged down in Iraq. While the Congress flounders about what, exactly, it can do about Iraq, it can do something useful, while it still matters, in making clear that it will authorize no money and provide no endorsement for military action against Iran.
Fallows is an editor at The Atlantic and has contributed to other magazines. His book, Blind Into Baghdad, was published in 2004.
When I first started this blog, I wasn't sure what it would be about. Apparently, for better or for worse, it's to be about whatever is on my mind.
My advice to them would be not to spend all their congressional time on Iraq, and to give attention to relations between the US and Iran. Here's a likely scenario that I see developing.
The bellicose rhetoric has already been ramped up. I envision a trumped up or exaggerated "incident", which will require an immediate response "to protect the troops". Bush will go forward with some sort of attack on Iran, without seeking permission from Congress. He'll just do it. Frankly, this scares the hell out of me.
Now I fervantly hope that that my prediction comes to nought. Nevertheless, this seems an appropriate time for me to get in touch with my representative, my senators, and those in the leadership in Congress, to call this matter to their attention. Perhaps, they could do something to prevent this from happening.
What caught my attention was this piece from The Atlantic by James Fallows. In it he says:
Deciding what to do next about Iraq is hard — on the merits, and in the politics. It’s hard on the merits because whatever comes next, from “surge” to “get out now” and everything in between, will involve suffering, misery, and dishonor. It’s just a question of by whom and for how long. On a balance-of-misery basis, my own view changed last year from “we can’t afford to leave” to “we can’t afford to stay.” And the whole issue is hard in its politics because even Democrats too young to remember Vietnam know that future Karl Roves will dog them for decades with accusations of “cut-and-run” and “betraying” troops unless they can get Republicans to stand with them on limiting funding and forcing the policy to change.
By comparison, Iran is easy: on the merits, in the politics. War with Iran would be a catastrophe that would make us look back fondly on the minor inconvenience of being bogged down in Iraq. While the Congress flounders about what, exactly, it can do about Iraq, it can do something useful, while it still matters, in making clear that it will authorize no money and provide no endorsement for military action against Iran.
Fallows is an editor at The Atlantic and has contributed to other magazines. His book, Blind Into Baghdad, was published in 2004.
When I first started this blog, I wasn't sure what it would be about. Apparently, for better or for worse, it's to be about whatever is on my mind.
Monday, February 5, 2007
A Day In Court
My heartfelt thanks to you to all of you who have been praying for my son and his family in the custody hearing. We spent the whole day in court today, but nothing has been settled. My daughter-in-law will not negotiate, so there will be a full-scale trial, with testimony and the works, with my husband and me and others on the stand, on Februaru 26. Still more suspense. This is wearing all of us down. I'll remind my prayer warriors out there as the time nears to pray again. Lord, have mercy.
Friday, February 2, 2007
It's a Lovely Idea
I fear that my readers may come to believe that I never have an original idea. Half-jokingly, I have spoken of MadPriest as my blogging muse, but now, to my dismay, I seem to be trapped in a cycle of using his material as a jumping-off spot for many of my posts.
After reading his wonderful sermon for the Third Sunday Before Lent, I was thinking about how and what I believe about the stories in the Bible.
Brideshead Revisited is one of my favorite books, one that I read over and over. It's a Catholic novel with a capital "C". Since I spent the first 60 years of my life in the Roman Catholic Church, I feel at home in the book
The book is set in the time between the two World Wars and into WWII. As the story begins two young men, Charles Ryder and Sebastian Flyte, meet and become friends at Oxford University. Sebastian's family is of the English Roman Catholic aristocracy, while Charles is agnostic.
Sebastian and Charles have the following conversation about religion:
Sebastian: “Oh dear, it’s very difficult being a Catholic!”
Charles: “Does it make much difference to you?”
Sebastian: “Of course. All the time.”
Charles: “Well, I can’t say I’ve noticed it. Are you struggling against temptation? You don’t seem much more virtuous than me.”
Sebastian: “I’m very, very much wickeder,” said Sebastian indignantly.
.
Charles: “… I suppose they try to make you believe an awful lot of nonsense?”
Sebastian: “Is it nonsense? I wish it were. It sometimes sounds terribly sensible to me.”
Charles: “But my dear Sebastian, you can’t seriously believe it all.”
Sebastian: “Can’t I?”
Charles: “I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass.”
Sebastian: Oh yes. I believe that. It’s a lovely idea.”
Charles: “But you can’t believe things because they’re a lovely idea.”
Sebastian: “But I do. That’s how I believe.” (pp. 81–83)
I love this passage, because Sebastian expresses how I believe, too. There are stories in the Bible that are so right, and true, and lovely, that, in my mind and heart, I say, "Yes!" The Nativity story is one of them.
There are those who would say, like Charles, that you can't believe something because it's a lovely idea. They'd say that's nonsensical and irrational. But, indeed, that's how I believe.
Now I understand that the stories may not be literally true as recounted, but they're nonetheless true in the sense that they express eternal truths. To me, the stories are full of grace, and what is grace but God's loving call to draw closer. They are, indeed, God's living word.
After reading his wonderful sermon for the Third Sunday Before Lent, I was thinking about how and what I believe about the stories in the Bible.
Brideshead Revisited is one of my favorite books, one that I read over and over. It's a Catholic novel with a capital "C". Since I spent the first 60 years of my life in the Roman Catholic Church, I feel at home in the book
The book is set in the time between the two World Wars and into WWII. As the story begins two young men, Charles Ryder and Sebastian Flyte, meet and become friends at Oxford University. Sebastian's family is of the English Roman Catholic aristocracy, while Charles is agnostic.
Sebastian and Charles have the following conversation about religion:
Sebastian: “Oh dear, it’s very difficult being a Catholic!”
Charles: “Does it make much difference to you?”
Sebastian: “Of course. All the time.”
Charles: “Well, I can’t say I’ve noticed it. Are you struggling against temptation? You don’t seem much more virtuous than me.”
Sebastian: “I’m very, very much wickeder,” said Sebastian indignantly.
.
Charles: “… I suppose they try to make you believe an awful lot of nonsense?”
Sebastian: “Is it nonsense? I wish it were. It sometimes sounds terribly sensible to me.”
Charles: “But my dear Sebastian, you can’t seriously believe it all.”
Sebastian: “Can’t I?”
Charles: “I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass.”
Sebastian: Oh yes. I believe that. It’s a lovely idea.”
Charles: “But you can’t believe things because they’re a lovely idea.”
Sebastian: “But I do. That’s how I believe.” (pp. 81–83)
I love this passage, because Sebastian expresses how I believe, too. There are stories in the Bible that are so right, and true, and lovely, that, in my mind and heart, I say, "Yes!" The Nativity story is one of them.
There are those who would say, like Charles, that you can't believe something because it's a lovely idea. They'd say that's nonsensical and irrational. But, indeed, that's how I believe.
Now I understand that the stories may not be literally true as recounted, but they're nonetheless true in the sense that they express eternal truths. To me, the stories are full of grace, and what is grace but God's loving call to draw closer. They are, indeed, God's living word.
Thought For the Day
Celibacy is a vocation, a special call from God. No human can call another human to a life of celibacy. Only God can make that call. Therefore no human has the right to declare to a Christian gay man or lesbian, "You are called to a life of celibacy".
In the absence of any mention of gay or lesbian sex by Our Lord Jesus Christ, who only spoke of faithfulness, one to the other, no human has the right to call gay or lesbian sex sinful.
"It is not good for man (or woman) to be alone."
Anyway, that's how I work it out. Of course, I could be wrong.
(Inspiration for my thought from this post by MadPriest.)
In the absence of any mention of gay or lesbian sex by Our Lord Jesus Christ, who only spoke of faithfulness, one to the other, no human has the right to call gay or lesbian sex sinful.
"It is not good for man (or woman) to be alone."
Anyway, that's how I work it out. Of course, I could be wrong.
(Inspiration for my thought from this post by MadPriest.)
Thursday, February 1, 2007
MadPriest Slimes Me
As many of you know, Blogger is giving us bloggers and blog readers loads of grief at this time. MadPriest, is, of course, taking advantage of the fact that no one can comment over at his blog. He has accused me of BREAKING BLOGGER, not once, but twice, with full knowledge that I cannot answer his charges over there. I hereby challenge him to take up the fight at my blog. He is timid, therefore, I suspect he will be too frightened to respond. The ball is in his court.
I've just checked back, and he's added more ugly stuff. He's such a coward.
If he should respond, think of all the traffic it will bring to my wee blog. Tee-hee.
I've just checked back, and he's added more ugly stuff. He's such a coward.
If he should respond, think of all the traffic it will bring to my wee blog. Tee-hee.
Red Beans and Rice
Some months ago at MadPriest's place, there was a long comment thread on New Orleans-style red beans and rice. I have no idea what the original post was about (it was not red beans and rice) but that's where we ended up in the comments, unruly crew that we are about staying on topic.
It seems that when the New Orleans Saints football team played the Chicago Bears in the final four, the two senators from Louisiana placed a bet with Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois on the outcome of the contest.
Yesterday, Senators Landrieu and Vitter paid off.
From the New Orleans Times-Picayune:
A routine photo opportunity for Louisiana's two senators settling a friendly football bet got swept up Wednesday in the national political craze known as Obamania.
Sens. Mary Landrieu and David Vitter had hoped for a little media attention as they wheeled a cart of red beans and rice to the office of Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., to pay off a losing wager on the Bears-Saints National Football Conference championship game Jan. 21.
They were greeted by a media throng: Five photographers, six TV cameras and an assortment of other reporters. The explanation was provided by a Japanese TV producer who hustled up to the scene with a cameraman, boom microphone and step stool.
"Obama?" he asked to make sure he was in the right place.
I guess the Japanese TV producer did not know about New Orleans red beans and rice. We were way ahead of the curve at MadPriest's blog. Soon the whole world will know about our red beans and rice.
At about 11:30 a.m., they emerged from Landrieu's office pushing a service cart decorated with fleurs-de-lis and carrying simmering pots of red beans and rice. They obligingly stirred the food for the cameras.
"Mary and I have been preparing this from scratch," Vitter joked about the home cooking prepared by Copeland's Restaurant. "There may be an extra dose of Tabasco sauce in there."
And if you don't know about Tabasco sauce, you've been living in a cave. Everywhere I've been in the world, I've seen Tabasco sauce.
It seems that when the New Orleans Saints football team played the Chicago Bears in the final four, the two senators from Louisiana placed a bet with Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois on the outcome of the contest.
Yesterday, Senators Landrieu and Vitter paid off.
From the New Orleans Times-Picayune:
A routine photo opportunity for Louisiana's two senators settling a friendly football bet got swept up Wednesday in the national political craze known as Obamania.
Sens. Mary Landrieu and David Vitter had hoped for a little media attention as they wheeled a cart of red beans and rice to the office of Sen. Barack Obama, D-Ill., to pay off a losing wager on the Bears-Saints National Football Conference championship game Jan. 21.
They were greeted by a media throng: Five photographers, six TV cameras and an assortment of other reporters. The explanation was provided by a Japanese TV producer who hustled up to the scene with a cameraman, boom microphone and step stool.
"Obama?" he asked to make sure he was in the right place.
I guess the Japanese TV producer did not know about New Orleans red beans and rice. We were way ahead of the curve at MadPriest's blog. Soon the whole world will know about our red beans and rice.
At about 11:30 a.m., they emerged from Landrieu's office pushing a service cart decorated with fleurs-de-lis and carrying simmering pots of red beans and rice. They obligingly stirred the food for the cameras.
"Mary and I have been preparing this from scratch," Vitter joked about the home cooking prepared by Copeland's Restaurant. "There may be an extra dose of Tabasco sauce in there."
And if you don't know about Tabasco sauce, you've been living in a cave. Everywhere I've been in the world, I've seen Tabasco sauce.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)