My N-Word Moment

In the wake of the Paula Deen fallout I have been inspired to self reflect and get to the heart of what the f is wrong with race dialog in America. I have come to the realization that the problem is simple. The discussion is dishonest and secretive-not so much a newsflash, I know, but stay with me. White America is so afraid being labeled racist that we lie about actually BEING racist. We also keep deep secrets in an attempt to shield or minimize our own participation in racist behavior and systems. Not only does this help keep racism alive and well, it also enables the shame of racism to reside deep in the hearts of white people who sincerely want change. The dishonesty and secrets make the fuel that motivates white strangers to assume that a fellow white face permits racist comments and descriptions of "black" people in whispers. If you are white, you know exactly what I mean. In response to this reality, I would like to offer an example from my own life to show people how to be honest, self reflective, and hopefully transformational when it comes to overcoming racism. What I am about to share requires immense vulnerability on my part. As I share my experience, I hope it is met with grace and understanding. I can't remember exactly how old I was, but I think it's fair to say I was in ninth or tenth grade, so 14/15 years old. I was with two girlfriends of mine and the three of us were headed down town on the "T"-Pittsburgh's public transit rail. The three of us hopped on and were excited to head to our destination. Immediately upon grabbing our seat we noticed a group of girls, about the same age, who were staring at us like we did something wrong. All of the girls were black. We carried on as if we didn't notice the glares, but the group of girls started verbally making fun of us. We were paralyzed with fear. Not just because the girls were black, but because we had no idea what the hell was going on. None of us had ever been taunted by strangers for no reason, and even though we were usually pretty capable and confident girls on our own accord, we were simply outnumbered. Instead of responding and making an uncomfortable situation worse, we sat there powerless and took the taunts. The girls made fun of the way we dressed, and mocked us by talking like valley girls. Because of my own baggage, I never took well to the feelings of powerlessness. I sat there frozen, but wanted so badly to regain the power I felt like I was losing. But I had a plan. The girls who taunted us relentlessly, got off the "T" before we did. As they got off, they continued to stare, poke fun, and intimidate. All the while, I kept my eye on the doors, and just as they closed to the point where they couldn't be reopened, I distinctly, and with great pronunciation mouthed the word... N I G G E R. Two of the girls locked eyes with me while I said it, and their response was swift. They both tore for the train and began beating on the glass where I sat. Then the train started moving with me in it, and both of my middle fingers in the air. Looking back on it, I was very aware of my actions and equally aware of how much power that one word had. And at the tender age of 15, I had an innate sense of the historical hatred I was channeling just to regain my own sense of power. It was intentional. I wanted to hurt those girls for making us feel powerless for no reason. No other word would have accomplished that feat. Interestingly, my friends never knew what I said, and I never told them. In fact, this admission may be the first time I've ever admitted to this, ever. I also didn't grow up in a house where that was an acceptable or frequently used term, unlike other white people. The only time I can remember ever hearing a relative use the "N" word was when an uncle used it during a football game as he yelled at one of the players, and I remember being aghast at the witnessing of it. I clearly knew better. What I knew regarding right and wrong, didn't matter. What mattered is that I needed a weapon to fight back, and that word was all I could find in my arsenal. It has been over twenty years since that exchange and I still think about it often. I wonder if that one exchange means I am a racist for life. In my heart of hearts, I don't believe that is the case. I do acknowledge that in that exchange I was for sure an active participant in the racist, oppressive culture that attempts to judge individual actions of black people as indictments upon the entire race, and I have since spent the better part of my life trying to undo the white supremacist fabric of who I am as an American. You might be thinking, "But those girls were bullying you. You had every right to fight back." I do think I had every right to defend myself, but let's remember, no one physically hurt me. I struck when the threat of physical violence was gone. I can't help but think that if the girls were white, I would have responded differently. For one, I probably would not have been as afraid to verbally defend myself. I had some experience witnessing girls fight, both white and black, and from what I saw black girls fought way more aggressively than white girls. I was afraid of welcoming an ass whoopin I couldn't handle. So I remained silent. But why did I SAY it? What was the motive? The motive was reclaiming power based on race, and power based on race is the lifeline of racism. So now what? What can my exchange do to make a difference in racial awareness? First, it provides a framework for white people to reflect, be honest, and work it out. It's not about making apologies either, because frankly apologies are insufficient. It is about making changes to the way we think, and it is about being honest in regards to how painful that process can be. It is about traveling to the dark places of our historical legacy, owning them, and redeeming them. Second, being honest about what I've experienced is something I've been very candid about within myself. I've taken responsibility internally and have made changes within myself to ensure that who I am, and what I strive for as a human being is far better than that incident. But making my journey a public one is necessary for two reasons. It helps similar people release the shame that such actions harbor in oneself, and it hopefully brings accountability to those who have no regret. I am glad to say that since then, I have never said the N-word from my mouth or my heart, the latter being the most important. May we strive to speak words that come from our hearts, and may we strive for our hearts to be good and just.

Miss California Christian

As some of you may know, Miss California has received a lot of heat regarding her answer to judge Perez Hilton's question about gay marriage. Considering the gay marriage debate is so central in California right now, I thought it was a fair questions to ask. (Although I heard the other contestants got far easier and less heated questions, but that's beside the point.)

Carrie replied with a heartfelt opinion that marriage is between a man and a woman-and has since discussed the "natural" order of things evinced in the Bible as proof. While I couldn't disagree with her more, I wholeheartedly believe that she is entitled to her opinion. There are a few things that really bother me about this whole issue and the fall out it has generated.

1. I am bothered by the fact that a beauty queen with a boob job feels that she is the authority to speak upon what is "natural" and therefore righteous in the eyes of God.

2. I am bothered my Carrie Prejean's insistence that her religious faith and beliefs are being attacked.

To add to this debate, a sexy hot topless photo of Miss California surfaced this week as well. Perfect timing huh? Granted, her back is turned and just a sliver of her breast is shown, but the photo is HAWT! Far too risque for a good little Christian girl who desires to save her body and sexual-ness for marriage. Prejean responded to the photo by saying that it was taken when she was 17 (is that supposed to make us feel better?) and delivered the following statement in her own defense: "I am a Christian and I am a model. Models pose for pictures, including lingerie and swimwear photos..."

What Prejean fails to recognize is that nobody is trashing her beliefs or her faith or the fact that she is a model. People are trashing the blatant, and ignorant hypocrisy which apparently allows Prejean to define and re-define her own views of morality, modesty, and God approved "natural-ness" while judging others for defining/re-defining morality and God approved "natural-ness." For some reason Prejean fails to recognize the hypocrisy evident for some of us in what she does, (which we can clearly justify as biblical offenses) and justifies it as okay because she is a Christian, AND a model. There must be some model clause or model exceptions to the rules that my training in seminary has over looked.

What this whole situation confirms for me is that people are perfectly fine with using "The Book" to justify whatever personal belief they have, or group they want to control, without really studying it, and considering why it says what it says.

To clarify, I personally don't find offense with Prejean's barely legal boob shot. The woman looks good and deserves to be a model. I am not offended that she got a boob job either. In fact I am contemplating getting one myself. I am offended that the literal approach she takes in understanding the Bible is applied inconsistently to the lives of others whose "lifestyle" she (and many others)disapprove.

So a note to Miss California: Don't be so quick to think that it's your religion we have a problem with. We (your critics) think that you are not approaching your own lifestyle with a fair measure of biblical literalism that you prefer to politically impose upon others with less acceptable lifestyles.

Can You Pay My Bills?

Yesterday I got into a conversation with a friend about why I am moving back to Pittsburgh. I told her I was moving against my will but in accordance with my financial situation. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Her: I know what you mean...money is king!
Me: Haha, I know!
Her: I mean, Jesus is King, but you know what I mean ;-)
Me: Yeah but Jesus ain't paying my rent, so yes, I know what you mean!
Her: But Jesus DOES pay your rent :-)

Hmmm? Really? Does Jesus pay my rent? If Jesus pays my rent, why in the hell do I have to work? Maybe the sentiment points to a belief that Jesus provides the job or even more generally, our provisions. Okay, then why do I have to send out resumes and cover letters, and why even bother with references? Or what do I make of Jesus' provisions given the fact that 12 percent of the state of California is out of work and thus having a hard time paying their rent?

As I enter my own season of job hunting so that I can make money and pay my own rent, I should just put "Jesus" as my reference. Yeah, that will get me the job, and the rent money.

Danielleworld

I come from a long line of debaters, arguers, and opinionated hot heads. In my family, religion and politics WERE acceptable topics for dinner time conversation. My family is directly responsible for my love and admiration for critical dialogue, and healthy exchanges of different opinions. Key word being HEALTHY.

With that said, it comes to no surprise that I received an email today from a beloved, well intentioned uncle of mine who is notorious for sending viral email forwards about things like supporting our troops, keeping prayer in school, and pro-life stances. We disagree on pretty much everything, yet he continues to send me the emails. At one point I sent him an email clarifying that if he continues to send me forwards I will take them as an invitation to engage in discussion about the topics raised. He still sent them, so I took them as invitations to respond. I usually don't respond unless whatever he sends REALLY pushes my buttons. Today he sent one of those emails that pushed me over the edge.

As usual the subject line read "You'll love this one."

The title of the post was "Teacher Applicant." To read the actual forward click here: http://wilk4.com/humor/humorm339.htm

The gist of the message is that a teacher humorously responds to the varied, plentiful, and excessively unrealistic expectations placed upon him/her by concluding, "You want me to do all of this and yet you expect me NOT TO PRAY !?!?"

The whole issue of prayer in school is extremely frustrating for me. 1. Because as a Christian I support the Constitution, and I believe that the government should do all that is within its power to preserve our religious freedom by not supporting state established religious beliefs or practices. That means, if you work for a public institution you are an employee of the state which means in essence, you represent the state (government.) Therefore it is a conflict of interest (that interest being our constitutional rights) for a representative of the state to issue prayer whether it be to a Christian God, Muslim God, or general purposes God. I believe that supporting this aspect of our constitution limits the likelihood that I will have to bow to a god I don't believe in nor will I be subject to listen or participate in a prayer that goes against my beliefs, should there be a shift in the majority of religious preferences in our country.

In a "Reply All" response to my uncle, I tried to articulate this point. I tried to explain my support of the Constitution and each American's right to religious freedom, but I also tried to express that I didn't believe that anyone, individual or otherwise could ever take away my ability to pray. I may not be able to kneel down in front of my class with hands clasped, head bowed, reciting the Rosary, but I can certainly say ten hail Mary's while my students are on their lunch break or to myself when I see a young student who I know is having troubles at home.

My uncle did not agree...which did not come as a surprise to me, nor did his rebuttal. He vehemently disagreed, but he did not in any way disrespect me in the expression of his disagreement. (Something my family is very good at!)

What did come as a surprise to me was the email I got from my uncle's priest who was included in the forward, and included in my "Reply All" comment. After I sent my uncle an admittedly heartfelt inquiry and challenging critique of his views on prayer in school, I get this:

"How else does God work in Danielleworld? Does God belittle people through condescending emails in Danielleworld?

Reverend James B. Farnan, BS, STL
Diocese of Pittsburgh
St. Thomas More Parish"

-Word for word that is what he sent to me in an email. Nothing more, nothing less. Mind you, I do not know this priest at all. I know that he was the same priest who responded indifferently, yet somewhat respectfully to another email exchange between my uncle and me, but other than that...I don't know him.

I couldn't help but think that this priest got a little snippy with me. I mean, am I crazy or did he get snippy? The more I read his email, the more it bothered me, and the more it bothered me, the more impossible it became to give him the benefit of the doubt. I couldn't help but fixate on the fact that he had approached me via email in a way that did not communicate a mature interest in critical thinking or an exchange of ideas. What was his purpose afterall???

To be fair, it is possible that to someone who is not familiar with how my family engages with topics like these, it may seem like I was harsh toward my uncle. I am willing to let you be the judge. This is what I sent my uncle:

"Dear Uncle S,

Does that mean if your daughters attended a public school and had a Muslim teacher who led the class in a prayer or prayed out loud to the class, asking all the students to bow toward Mecca, and closed the prayer by saying, "Praised be to Allah," you'd be okay with that?

NO ONE is telling teachers they can't pray. Schools and teachers just can't institute prayer for the students they teach. That protects your children from being led in a Muslim, Jewish, or Buddhist prayer if they had a Muslim, Jewish, or Buddhist teacher you know.

If Christians truly have God in their hearts, minds, and souls, there is no stopping the inward communication between them and God. Christians have to stop allowing themselves to be limited by policies that don't actually limit them! Prayer is a state of mind and being that no outward institution can ever govern. Ever. Why can't Christians live into that reality and stop wasting time about this no prayer in school stuff. Does God only answer your prayers if you have a formal time at school where you can kneel and pray the Rosary? I truly don't think that's how God works.

luv ya
danielle"

In my best effort to objectively look at my email, I see some harsh critique, yes. I also see me, trying to play devil's advocate with my uncle who I KNOW would not be cool with his kids bowing to Mecca. That "luv ya, Danielle" at the end is not sarcasm! I am used to being able to duke it out with my uncles regarding our beliefs, and can sincerely say "I love you" at the end of the day, and mean it.

I would venture to say that Fr. Farnan's family dinners may not have been similar to mine. I am okay with that. I am not okay with someone not being able to express their disagreement like a mature, respectful adult, ESPECIALLY when you are supposed to have a God given calling to shepherd the flock!!! Am I not part of that flock Fr. Farnan??? Are my opinions not even worth your consideration or "redirection" if they are so blatantly wrong?

What is really sad about this is that I think the whole prayer in school issue is a good conversation, and one that is worth having. I also think that I bring a very reasonable and faith based argument to a table that is seemingly closed off to liberal, baby killing homo-lovers like myself. I guess Fr. Farnan is more concerned about dissecting the theories of God, prayer, etc as they exist in Danielleworld. I guess I can't totally blame the guy, I mean I do know my shit.

Since he is a man of the cloth who probably believes that "whatsoever he shall asketh, he shall receive," I did my best to provide him with clarification as well as an answer to his questions. They read:

"Dear Fr. Farnan,
I am not sure what the context of your email is but let me clarify a few things: I have a close relationship with my family and we often engage in heated and challenging discussions. My uncle knows me well, and hopefully he knows that while I may disagree with him on SO MANY things, I love and respect him very much and would never condescend to him under any circumstance-at least not intentionally-and if I have done so unintentionally I would quickly see to it that my true intentions were made known. Based on many conversations I have had with my uncle in the past, the info/questions I posed are very sincere and equally critical of what I perceive as inconsistencies on his part. It is in the tradition of my family, and our passionate, opinionated, hot-headed nature to call each other out on stuff we disagree with, as he will likely do in return. And I welcome it.

You however, do not know me well enough to understand my approach to honest critical dialogue, and you have not (in my opinion) earned the right to talk to me in the manner that you have in this email.

I will answer you this though, in "Danielleworld," the work of God is not revealed to me through priests like you.

You have given me excellent blog material though, so thanks."

There you have it. A snippet of how critical dialogue and God "works" (or doesn't) in Danielleworld! I meant it when I told him that he has given me excellent blog material. In fact, it's like he hand delivered oodles of blog material on a silver platter wrapped in Parchment paper with my favorite Bible verse and the world "Danielleworld" inscribed in Greek.

Now I can only hope and pray for more Divine Revelation of God's wisdom as it pertains to my own little Danielleworld. I promise to let you know what she tells me.

Fish Fry

Ask me the first thing that pops into my head when you say the word "Lent" and I will surely respond "FISH FRY." Okay, I may say giving up chocolate or some other decadent delight, but a fish fry will definitely be up there. Why? Because I grew up in a Catholic family, in a predominantly Catholic town, and every Friday in Lent every Catholic Church you could think of had a fish fry (a very profitable endeavor for most churches I might add). Everyone would go to their home church, pay about 4 bucks or so, and you'd get the biggest, most delicious plank of fried fish you'd ever seen. Of course, the fish would be accompanied by a heaping mound of homemade mac-n-cheese, a green veggie of some sort, and a big old dollop of tartar sauce. I always loved a fish fry. Strangely though, I never fully understood why we had them, or what they had to do with Lent, easter, Jesus, or any spiritual matter...for that matter.

In my quest for the fishy truth, my well intended Catholic family members would explain that Jesus died on a Friday so we don't eat meat on Fridays in Lent to remember his sacrifice. A whosit says whatsit??? Does that mean that if I do eat meat on Friday that I am somehow connected to the death of Jesus??? A co-conspirator of sorts? Even as a Catholic school girl who faithfully attended religion class daily and church twice a week, I could never find a clear, straight answer, that actually made sense. The answers seemed like theological puzzle pieces that people were awkwardly trying to put together.

As a young adult, I still questioned the origin of the practice. At one point I heard that some pope back in the day had a connection to the local fishing industry, and declared that people eat fish to boost the local economy-and later attached spiritual significance to it, but I have never been able to find documentation verifying the clam...er, uh, I mean claim.

I really wanted to believe the fishing industry legend because it is the most logical explanation to date, and sounds so like a religious leader doesn't it? I can just see it...

Fisherman Joe: "Hey yo, Popey J...time's been tough down at the dock. People just ain't buyin these days you know?

Popey J: "Oh yeah? I'm sorry to hear that brother. Want me to say a couple hail Mary's for you tonight?"

Fisherman Joe: "You know PJ, I gotta better idea..."

(Fisherman Joe & Popey J develop a plan...)

-And there you have it... the origins of why we eat fish on Friday's in Lent.

The reality is however, that if such was the case, we'd probably be able to cite who, what, when, and where, such an exchange took place and I don't think anyone can.

As I have looked for answers regarding this tradition, I have learned once again that Catholic doctrine (Catholic beliefs that are written on the books) is sometimes very different than what Catholic people practice or understand. I think this is common of most religions where the church leaders are significantly more theologically educated than the lay people whose access to information about the religion is somewhat controlled (topic for another blog).

************Theological bore warning***************

Catholic doctrine says absolutely NOTHING about eating fish on Friday's during lent. Catholics are required to treat Fridays as a day of penitence (every Friday of the year, not just Lent) which means that they are to give up something that is a want/need in order to be reminded of their need for God and his sacrifice-this is referred to as "mortification." Prior to Vatican II it was mandated that the sacrifice be meat. After Vatican II it was determined that people could personalize the sacrifice, or make a sacrifice that was culturally/socially relevant to them. (Ex: Vegetarian Catholics wouldn't be sacrificing much if they gave up meat on Fridays!) Many Catholics have stuck with the no meat thing during Lent, but they have forgotten that penitential Fridays is a prescribed mandate 52 Fridays a year according to Catholic doctrine.

Still these questions remain: WHY NO MEAT and WHY IS FISH NOT CONSIDERED MEAT?? This is the part that continues to baffle me. I read from a Catholic encyclopedia and other Catholic resources that cite Old Testament sacrifices and views of "flesh and blood" as reasons. In other words, the amount of blood a piece of meat has, determines it's "meatiness." But the connections they draw as to why not eating meat on Fridays is significant for Christians are ambiguous and clumsy, yet Catholics often assert with confidence that the reasons make sense! This is what I have heard many times from those who are probably most informed on the matter, "Well, Jesus was the sacrificial lamb, so in honor of the sacrificial offering he made (on a Friday btw), we will abstain from eating the flesh of an animal, and that will remind us of our need for a savior."

Let me say this again, if I haven't said it already...

WWWWWWWWWWTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF???????????

Why not also say...Well Jesus was born on a Tuesday, and to remind ourselves that Jesus was a gift to the whole world we should drink a glass of water every Tuesday because water is cleansing, and Jesus is cleansing, and I want to be cleansed by Jesus, so yeah, water on Tuesdays forever.

Now just let me clarify, there is absolutely no harm in deciding to fast, sacrifice, or remember our own imperfections/needs. I gather that some people find it to be a very special discipline. I also don't want this to sound like a Catholic bashing session. I don't hate Catholics. My Grandma is Catholic and I love her to pieces. What concerns me is that people of all faiths adopt various, weird, idiosyncratic practices, and then they superimpose spiritual significance onto said practices, and then eventually those ambiguously rooted practices become ambiguously rooted dogma.

THEN you have people everywhere thinking they are somehow closer to God because they do some stupid little practice, that in the larger scheme of things is a spiritual-construct, that ends up having little significance to those who are so far removed from whatever quasi spiritual purpose the practice once had in the first place. It becomes something you just "do" and then that thing influences other people to appropriate the practices and the whole thing just gets silly.

If you think I am wrong, I challenge you to ask 5 priests, 5 Catholic lay people, and 5 non Catholics the following questions:

1. Will you be eating meat on Fridays in lent? Why? Why not?
2. Will you be eating fish on Fridays in lent? Why? Why not?
3. Will you be "giving something up" for Lent this year? Why? Why not?
4. What about the Bible or tradition supports any of the above practices?

Please report your findings, and please take note of the inconsistent answers you receive.

Will You Pray for Me?

Yes, I am a seminary student who has not actually prayed in about two years. Blame it on an existential crisis. Blame it on my newly found perspective that I no longer know what I am praying to, or the fact that I don't really know if or how it really works. Admittedly, these are my issues, and I consider myself to be on a life long journey to figure them out.

An existential crisis is all well and good for me as an individual, but as soon as someone I care about asks me those 5 frightening words in a time of crisis: "Will you pray for me?" Things get a little complicated. I can have my own existential crisis and be totally fine with it. Really, I can. But what do I do when a friend confides in me, her deepest sorrows, in a moment of trust and vulnerability, and in the midst of her pain she reaches out for a caring person to engage with the Divine on her behalf.

I hate the idea of saying, "yeah, sure, I'll pray for you," because I know that is a lie. I am not going to "pray" in the traditional sense. I am not going to get on my knees, fold my hands, bow my head and talk to a God I don't really know right now. It feels awkward, phony, and useless. But my friend is important to me. And while I do not know what I think about God at the moment, I do believe in the mystic presence of something. I do believe in the supernatural, the divine, and the fact that we can and should engage with it. I just don't know how to.

On the other hand, I don't want to be the annoying person who puts their own stupid little spiritual woes before the sincere pain of a person in need. That is just plain annoying and lame.

I really wanted to do something for my friend to let that cosmic force, divine creator, or whatever he/she goes by these days that I was advocating for her, and sincerely hoping for peace and contentment in her life. But I needed it to be authentic for me.

So I decided to search for meaning, authenticity and a guide to prayer at the 99cents Store.

I purchased some candles that always intrigue me when I am there. They are prayer candles that I think are mostly used in Mexican Catholic traditions. I think they are used for home altars. Either way, I am attracted to them. They look very ecclesiastical to me, but yet so accessible. I purchased two plain white ones, and one that had a picture of Mary on it because her heart was exposed, and I really like hearts. I purchased the candle with the intention of lighting it for my friend as an act of acknowledgement of her struggle, her fears, her hope, and my hope for her. I took the candle home, took it out of the bag and noticed that there is sweet little prayer written on the back of the candle.

I lit the candle that night as a gesture to my friend, and it gave me peace of mind knowing that I could actually engage with the Divine, on behalf of a friend in need, in the midst of having not one fricken clue who or what the Divine actually is. I hope my agnostic-ness is not a hindrance to her well being. We'll have to save that for another post.

Now when a person asks, "will you pray for me" I can respond knowing for sure that I don't have to be burdened by own uncertainties or the pressures to conform to a prescribed prayer structure.

So...

Yes, I will pray for you.

Terrific Journey on a Terrible Boot

On February 1, 2009, I set out on a Pittsburgh Pilgrimage for the purpose of accomplishing one simple task: to watch the Pittsburgh Steelers play against the Arizona Cardinals in Super Bowl XLIII with friends, family, and the most insane fans on the face of the planet. This trek was very close to a religious experience. It began as I arrived at LAX on Saturday morning representing my home town with a black and gold “Pittsburgh” scarf and a “boot” I was instructed to wear in order to protect a previously broken toe. I festively painted the boot black and gold, and called it a “Terrible Boot” in honor of the iconic and definitive Steelers fan symbol “The Terrible Towel.” It’s the tiny gold things you see waving around in the packed stadiums wherever the Steelers play.

As I awkwardly hobbled through the airport, I obtained my boarding pass and headed to the security checkpoint where the TSA officers snickered at my non-Arizona allegiance. When I arrived at my departure gate I was pleased to find that I was not alone. In fact, about 75% of the people waiting to board my plane were wearing black and gold, including the pilots! Everyone greeted each other with a sense of camaraderie that I have never experienced here in Los Angeles, ever! “Black and Gold” bridged black, white, young, old, first class, and coach. In addition to the unspoken but clearly felt unity among my fellow Pittsburgh pilgrims, there was an undeniable energy that buzzed throughout the plane as we boarded. We all knew that we were headed to the “Mecca” of the Steelers. The irony is that the Steelers were not even playing in Pittsburgh. The Super Bowl was in Tampa, Florida! But that did not stop fans (thousands nationwide) from traveling to “The Burgh” to join family and friends in watching what ended up being a sporting event for the ages. Prior to take off, our pilot introduced himself and welcomed us all aboard. He then played one of the many Steelers pep songs, “Here We Go” throughout the entire aircraft. People sang along in unison like we were at a church service! Then we took off.

Once I arrived in Pittsburgh, I realized that this whole Steelers thing, including the Pittsburgh Pilgrimage, (a term I coined in reference to the Pittsburgh Diaspora that reconvenes over the Steelers) was much bigger and more profound than I previously understood. Everyone at the Pittsburgh airport wore some kind of Steelers attire. Everyone was excited about the upcoming game. Everyone shared a common fraternal bond.

Only 33 hours passed between the time I landed in Pittsburgh and the time I got back on the plane headed back to Los Angeles. But in those 33 hours, I realized once again that the “Steelers Nation” (as it is so affectionately called) is an example of community that I do not see anywhere else. I don’t see it or experience it in school, in my neighborhood, and sadly, I don’t experience it within the church. Throughout the course of my visit I broke bread (in the form of a Primanti’s slaw and fries topped ‘sammitch’) with friends, chanted songs, and proudly adorned myself with symbols relevant to the occasion. I was received warmly by people from all over the country as they spotted my injured foot cradled in the “Terrible Boot.” And all of this was prior to the start of the actual game!

And what a game it was!!! I don’t think I need to get into the game. If you are a remote sports fan, you already know what I am talking about. If you are not a sports fan you don’t really need to know the details of the game, because the heart of this entire endeavor had little to do with football. The heart of the matter i.e. the Steelers, the people who live in Pittsburgh, the people who used to live there, and the people who are loyal fans from afar, is all about community and connection to a larger narrative. It is about staying faithful in good times and bad. It is about coming together for a common good. It is about long years of putting in dues that rarely pay off in the time frame in which you prefer.

The heart of “Steelers Nation” is that you become a part of something even if you can’t make the pilgrimage. You celebrate in a spirit of unity that cannot be easily matched these days. The narrative behind the Steelers is far more profound than the game of football itself, and that is what Pittsburghers (and fans) cling to. A narrative in which the hard workers, the ones with honor, the ones with character and humility, and even the ones who have failed & been broken in the past, emerge triumphant. Pittsburghers understand that story. It is their story, and it is the story that characterizes every aspect of their beloved Steelers, and above all, it is a story that many who are not from Pittsburgh can relate to as well.

Some people I’ve spoken too either don’t understand why Pittsburgh Steelers fans feel the way they way they do about a football team. Others think it borders idolatry. Admittedly, I didn’t understand it either until I actually moved away from Pittsburgh to Los Angeles and desperately longed for the sense of community I always took for granted back home. But as I twirled my terrible towel, wore my lucky number 7 Ben Roethlisberger jersey, (which is unusual for a non sporty person like myself-I mean I barely understand what a first down is!) and bore the pain of every celebratory jump on my broken toe, I knew I was at one with my Pittsburgh “peeps.” I was at one with my parents, aunts, uncles, friends and even grandmothers who I know were yelling at referees making bad calls, high fiving each other at each score made, dishing out the tough love when necessary, and cheering the Steelers on to historical defeats, and I was comforted by that reality.

I can’t help but see the connection between the “Steelers Nation” narrative, and other important narratives that we hold dear. I can’t help but think that there isn’t something to gain on a spiritual level from the example of Steelers fans who seem to have mastered the art of connecting to one another over a shared bond (in joyful times as well as bad) without regard to differences of any kind. Nothing was more evident of this than seeing a Muslim woman with her fully covered head peaking out of the sun roof of her car waving her terrible towel in celebration of the historical win, hipster kids with skinny jeans and old school Steelers beanies, and elderly, retirement home residents dancing in the streets with inebriated frat boys, on Pittsburgh’s historic Southside. Words are not sufficient in explaining the whole experience. Especially the tension felt when the Cardinals gave us a run for our money prior to the win! The collective fear was enough to send Sully Sullenberger over the edge!

As I make my way through this life journey, often feeling like my broken toe in one way or another, I continue to draw strength from the narratives that unite. For me, my “Terrible Boot” acts as a reminder of the reality that there is a back story, a struggle, and a hope for triumph for all of us in this journey. I cannot forget that. I continue to be amazed at the profound life lessons I learn through the Pittsburgh Steelers and their fans, and I look forward to supporting them as they make their way to the “Stairway to Seven!” GO STILLERS!

Merry Consumeristmas

Last year I wrote a blog about my viewing of "Made in L.A." a documentary highlighting the experiences of a group of women, mostly undocumented immigrants who work in the garment industry. After viewing the film and talking with the producer/directors afterward (my favorite part of living in L.A.) I realized that Mr Do Won Chang, owner of Forever 21, a company that took advantage of workers and their rights, also funded the student housing complex I live in, as a student at Fuller Theological Seminary. (My that's a lot of prepositions.) Anyway, this shocking revelation still weighs heavily on me , especially as I continue to struggle with my own spending patterns, materialism, and personal conviction that I am part of a really big, yet largely ignored problem.

As Christmas rounds the corner and I brave those dangerous places called malls, shopping centers, and box stores, I have made it a point to consider the person I might be stomping to death to get the latest flat screen T.V. deals at Walmart. I also hope to consider the hands that made what ever it is I purchase. I have spent some time (not alot, I admit) this year putting the pressure on merchants by demanding fair wages for workers through letter writing. I write letters to my favorite stores and tell them I love their products, but I don't want to buy them at the expense of someone who is getting dollars a day to produce them. The response letters, in their public relations oriented insincerity, are my favorite, (note sarcasm) but I press on.

And I press on why???

Because I can't think of a better way to celebrate the day that Jesus wasn't really born. Just think of it as my "Happy sort of Birthday Jesus" to the world.

I have also tried really hard to purchase goods that are either locally produced or are fairly traded. Trader Joes, Ten Thousand Villages, and Dolce Bambino Designs have greatly aided in this effort. Luckily I also have friends who have all agreed to shop at thrift stores for Christmas gifts too.

I have, and continue to try to make little steps toward change that affect not only who I am as a consumer, but who I am as person who cares about the humanity of others. I am far from a hippy go lucky chic in a potato sack and I don't intend to ever be that. But I do think it is possible to strike a balance somehow.

Here is a portion of the blog from last year;

"When I saw this story unfold, I was really angry and confused. I wondered if donating to Fuller settled Mr. Chang's conscience, or if he actually was a sincere and generous man who just didn't think much about the people who produced the clothing sold in his stores. I also wondered how Fuller handled this whole situation behind closed doors a few years ago when the Forever 21 boycott was taking place.

In the film, it was revealed that a settlement was in fact reached between Mr. Chang and the workers, after three years of fighting. Despite the settlement, my self righteous condemnation of Mr. Chang grew relentlessly as did my anger toward Fuller. How could they take his money knowing how it was made? Then I had a revelation. I realized...I SHOP at Forever 21! I also shop at Target, H&M, and most any other trendy discount store. The worst part of it is that I KNOW that those trendy clothes and home furnishings come at a cost. If it's cheap, it's because someone produced it under cheap conditions. This is no secret!!!! It is the way of the global retail world. I know this, but I choose to push that knowledge far away from the forefront of my awareness.

Perhaps my hidden hope is that denial will somehow make me less responsible for the injustice it heaps upon vulnerable people, or maybe I just don't know what else to do. If I am really honest though, I have to admit that this issue has never hit close enough to home for me...not enough to cause me to give up my insatiable, all-American addiction to STUFF at least. Let's be honest, none of my family members work in a sweatshop, and I doubt I will ever have to. But after seeing the movie, and knowing that the issue has in fact hit a little closer to home, I can no longer shuck my responsibility. In my initial condemnation of everyone ELSE who is responsible for the many levels of injustice faced by the garment workers in this film, I eventually could not deny my own participation in this aspect of our world. It made me realize that I, much like Mr. Chang, exist within the tension of who I am, and who I want to be. I pick and choose and rationalize my own behavior, and usually, the more I deny, the more someone else suffers.

On the way home from the movie I walked up to Chang Commons, the place I call home, and I realized that there is no greater reminder of our need for a transforming paradigm shift in regards to how we live our lives than the name of my building, coupled with the business philosophies of Do Won Chang.

The documentary will be shown on my campus soon. I really hope everyone I know gets a chance to see it. And I hope that whoever views it, does so with the realization that we all play a role in the consumerist culture that breeds sweatshops and exploitative labor practices. We all play a role in the demands we place on our administrators (for those of us in higher ed) to provide affordable housing for us. We are all responsible for the entitlement to low cost goods and services that often characterizes our culture, and we are all responsible for changing the way we live, shop, act, and do business. If you and I don't start taking that responsibility to heart who else will?"

If you are ready to accept the fact that you don't need as much crap as you think you need, check out:

www.revbilly.com

If you are like me, and just need some tips on how to shop more responsibly (one step at a time, right?) check out these sites:

www.madeinla.com

www.sweatfree.org

Proposition 8 Revisited: Lesson Learned

A couple of weeks ago I posted a link on Facebook to a blog concerning Proposition 8, a measure being voted upon in the state of California. In the simplest of terms, a “yes” vote to Prop 8 is a “no” vote to same-sex marriage, and a “no” vote to Prop 8 is a “yes” vote to same-sex marriage-in our state.

When I first heard of Proposition 8 I knew I was voting against it, but I didn’t think much about making that decision public. I don’t think much about publicizing my views on any of the Propositions, partly because I think people should be educating themselves on these issues, and I also think people are exhausted and burnt out by the back and forth arguing over politics. I also think that when it comes to gay rights, no matter where you stand on the spectrum, people tend to be pretty set in their ways (wisdom has taught me to choose my battles).

That all changed when I read one woman’s story on Alphwoman.com. This woman eloquently shared from the heart her desires to build a family with her children and the love of her life in a way that would be validated not by the church, but by the state. Hearing her story and her struggle hit a nerve for me and prompted me to share her post on my Facebook page. Her perspective (for me) put a face on the issue. She humanized it, and made it more than just a matter of opinion. Since I was already planning to vote “no” on Prop 8 (in support of same sex marriage) I sent her a note telling her I would be thinking of her family when I voted on Nov. 4. She replied with gratitude and it was a lovely exchange.

I posted the article as a newsfeed onto my Facebook profile and to my surprise, no one responded. Usually a touchy subject like same-sex marriage is sure to ruffle some feathers, but this time around it didn’t so it kind of faded out of my mind. I continued to stand by my decision to vote “no” on Prop 8 though. I should also note, I had no interaction or feedback from that post that would prepare me for what I experienced today.

While I was at work today, sitting behind the front desk of an on campus office at my school (Fuller Theological Seminary), a woman approached me for direction to another office. I gave her the guidance and off she went. About ten minutes later (or so) she came back to my desk and pointed out that she recognized my name and asked if I was the same woman who posted my views about Proposition 8 online. Stunned by her memory I confirmed my identity. She then proceeded to ask me (in a seemingly patronizing tone) if I was fully aware of what I was voting for, to which my answer was, “Yes.” She then continued to tell me in an almost urgent tone a litany reasons why I should “yes” to Prop 8.

Her position led me to suspect that she has been greatly influenced by the commercials sponsored by various groups including Focus on the Family, which are scaring people into thinking that their children are going to learn how to be gay in school. I also gathered that she held very strong convictions that were very different than mine. From that point I simply decided to disengage from debate and told her that I have made an informed decision to vote “No” on Prop 8. I also acknowledged that this is often an emotional issue and one that she and I will not agree on.

She appeared to be frustrated, and a little angry. She had that nervous tremble in her voice that I often get when my adrenaline is pumping and her face was getting red. She then ended the conversation by sharing that she wanted to make sure I ‘understood’ what Prop 8 was about because she couldn’t believe that “someone from ‘Fuller’” would take such a stance.

This interaction offended and saddened me to the core of my being in a variety of ways.

1. This woman, whom I don’t even know went out of her way to tell me to my face that I am wrong.
2. She assumed that my position was ill-informed
3. She arrogantly positioned herself as a person who “knows clearly” what God says.
4. She is a complete stranger who took it upon herself to engage in an antagonistic conversation at my place of employment.
5. Her closing remarks in our conversation were nothing short of insulting.

What is additionally disturbing is that I am pretty sure this woman is not on Facebook, and if she is, she is not on my friend list. I’d like to think that maybe someone passed my post along for the sake of informing others or for the sake of engaging in dialogue regardless of where they stand on the issue, but the jaded cynic in me thinks that one of my Fuller “brothers” or “sisters” didn’t have the gumption to challenge my opinion or choices directly, and instead used my post to form and inform some kind of an opposing allegiance. I really truly hope I am wrong.

Whatever the case, I would like to take this opportunity to make a couple of things clear:

1. Fuller Theological Seminary is not a static entity and just because I go here and work here doesn't mean I adhere to all of the positions that Fuller adheres to as an institution. Fuller is a place where many people are in the process of looking at a variety of issues with critical reflection and diverse perspectives. We do not agree on all things. In fact, I am pretty sure many people are attracted to Fuller for that very reason.
2. Not everyone agrees that the Bible is “clear” about the things we have grown to believe are clear. This does not mean that those of us who are critical questioners are less “Christian” or less in tune with God. It means we think and interpret things differently. Throughout our history Christians have disagreed over valid hermeneutical and cultural concerns. Views on homosexuality are based on valid hermeneutical concerns, and should not simply or flippantly be dismissed as a disobedience or sin issue.

I was going to continue this post by defending my position on Prop 8, but I truly believe that where I stand on the matter is irrelevant to the core issue of my interaction today. The core issue is that for some, politics and religion seem to have become more important than person and relationship. The woman who came to my desk today did not respectfully show an interest in me as a person, nor did she care to learn about what has shaped my views. She was hell bent on “informing” my vote in a way that sure felt like she wanted me to change it.

I sense that many Christians are concerned that gay people are going to destroy the “decency and morality of marriage” (a positively stunning viewpoint- in light of the fact that heteros are doing just fine destroying marriage all by themselves) and because of aggressive fear based marketing, believe that gay people are setting forth on an agenda to pervert our school systems and make little girls want to “marry princesses.” These assertions are problematic for me because they do not reflect the real relationships in my life with people who do love someone of the same gender. Those relationships and experiences matter.

I do believe that the woman who visited me today is motivated by a sincere desire to do right by God. In a perfect world she would understand that she is not the only one that is trying to do right by God in this life. She is not the only one asking questions, and she is not the only one doing her research. In a perfect world she would understand that similar motivations to 'do right by God' by humans, have in the past, and will continue to yield different conclusions among people who do in fact claim to hear from the same God. Just ask the Catholics and the Protestants in Ireland about that.

In that same perfect world she would also understand that if she ever wanted to express the love of God to me, she would have at least invited me for a cup of coffee before beating me over the head, at my place of employment with her politics. I guess the lesson learned today is that we don’t live in a perfect world.

Religulous

I am a huge Bill Maher fan. If you don't know who Bill Maher is, you may want to crawl out from under that rock you've been living under and check out his website. I don't agree with everything he says or stands for, but I do admire the guy, and appreciate his commitment to critical thinking. And who doesn't like an intelligent guy who says pretty much whatever is on his mind? Even though he is somewhat arrogant and downright mocking at times, he's not just some irrational spout of one-sided opinions that seems to overload our current political milieu in the media these days. Don't get me wrong, you know from the get go where Maher stands on issues, but he is not easily boxed into one category, and he doesn't seem to turn away from well informed differences of opinion. -That is why I like him. Needless to say, when I heard he was coming out with a comedic documentary about religion I literally counted down the days until its release.

I finally got to see it this Saturday, and let me tell you, it met and exceeded my expectations. Not only did I find a kindred spirit in Bill Maher (a doubting cynic) I was able to see on a grand scale that much of my spiritual wrestlings are not only valid, but thanks to Maher, they are well articulated, and now shared on the silver screen!

Throughout the movie Maher sets out on a pilgrimage of sorts to find out why people believe what they believe, and more importantly he seeks questions their alleged "certainty" regarding those beliefs. Including various small towns, Christian churches, and bookstores in America, he visits the Mormon's Brigham Young University in Salt Lake City, Utah, The Vatican in Rome, The (actual) Holy Land, and the commercialized version, "The Holy Land Experience" in Orlando Florida. He visits Muslim temples, speaks to Catholic priests, Rabbis, Ex-gay ministers, tourists at the "the Holy Land Experience" and of course has a conversation with Jesus...well two Jesuses actually.

From the very beginning of the movie, despite Maher's contempt for "organized" religion, I got the impression that his aim in making this movie was not just to mock people of faith (although he is a comedian, so do expect that) his aim was to ask questions of people who "believe" without being informed and to basically ask the age old epistemological question, "how do you know?"

Maher asks various people of various faiths how they reconcile exceeding ambiguities and contradictions in their particular traditions only to be faced with denial, ignorance, or defensiveness across the board. It is alarming how many people's religious beliefs are based on assumptions which are somehow substituted or misconstrued as faith.

Woven throughout the movie are quotes that remind viewers of atrocities committed in the name of religion, as well as factoids regarding the un-uniqueness of the Genesis account in the Bible. It made me wonder, if Christians stopped denying, and really started understanding how many prototypical "Creation stories" came before the one that appears in Genesis, how would they respond? Why don't people have a general awareness that the Christian story of Creation is pretty likely a "shared" (and by shared I mean plagiarized) story found in other ancient texts that pre-date the Bible? It seems as though we are completely okay with just ignoring those facts. I, like Bill Maher, am not okay with that kind of denial, especially considering that Christians base their entire theologies around the Genesis account of creation, humanity, sin, and the need for redemption, as if it is an historical document. The fact that about 4 or 5 strikingly similar stories came before the Creation Story in Genesis tells me that it (brace yourself) MAY BE a myth. Not a myth without meaning, but still a myth.

It's funny how people who have raised such questions throughout history have been called heretics, cynics, or lunatics. I mean, let's be real, Maher may be one of the more accessible, humorous and popular cynics at the moment, but he certainly isn't the first, and he certainly is not asking any new questions or raising any new criticism that hasn't been raised for centuries. What he is successfully doing in this film though is expressing the same old questions of a cynic within our current context. To me, the irony is that in the midst of criticizing blind faith and ignorant spirituality, he becomes a prophetic voice, albeit crass and lewd, but prophetic nonetheless.

It's funny, but not funny haha, more like funny sad to see that in the midst of hearing painful truths, we are so afraid to confront what might not add up, that we instead choose to accept a cheap and constructed fantasy rather than the purpose, value and meaning of the story.

One of the things I loathe about Bill Maher is that he is very into the whole Playboy Bunny Ranch scene, which to me is the antithesis of intelligentsia. But after I saw the movie and realized that much of what religious folk believe can be seen as fantasy, I realized that going to church on Sunday for some, serves the same purpose as going to the bunny ranch for Maher. We are more content with creating and participating in a fantasy in order to feel better, look better etc, have our egos (among other things) stroked that we don't care to ask the deep penetrating questions that may shatter our created worlds our erroneous perceptions of our faith texts, and reveal our own participation in hypocrisy, fallacy, misogyny, injustice, etc.

None of this means that I discredit faith, hope, or belief in God. On the contrary, I do believe that there is something more fascinating and mysterious about this existence than I can comprehend. I am okay with calling that something a God. But like Maher, I am not okay with making certain assertions that we know why we are here, or what happens to us when we die, what God looks like, what his name is, or who he wants us to vote for. I am not comfortable laying out a "plan" that defines an imperfect condition of humanity that requires me to jump through a bunch of dogmatic hoops for the rest of my life just so I can be "saved."

The fact of the matter is that we don't know. The fact of the matter is that a people of faith (if they are informed-and by informed I mean educated in their tradition in a way that includes a broader historical context) can gain the respect of critical thinkers if they acknowledge the truth about their beliefs, how they are informed, how their faith texts have been formed, and the reality of how those beliefs have played out in history.

I have come to define myself as an agnostic theist with Christian tendencies. That means I believe there is an undeniable mystery and power called God, that there is a profound significance to the biblical narrative, and I do believe there is a timelessness and continuity to the Christian message of hope, restoration, journey, rebirth, and community that parallels life narratives of all people. I can't say I "know" these things, but I can say that based on reasonable observation and study of Scripture in the original languages (yes I'm bragging dammit), intuitive responses to the ebb and flow of life, and a wealth of historical information that my beliefs are in fact informed. I mean can you prove love? Can you quantify beauty? Can you measure the pain that inflicts the broken hearted? These are things that we rely on art, music, and literature to communicate and reveal or express. To me, faith in the supernatural is similar. It's when we look at our sources of information (say the Bible) and read it in a way it is not meant to be read, apply it to a constructed theology, and then hold people to it, by any means necessary that create the problems seen in Maher's movie.

Further, if we take Maher's word for it, faithful=irrational, ignorant, and violent, and non-religiously affiliated are more likely the educated elite. That distinction is so yesterday Bill!

I will say that Maher fairly reveals that it ain't the smart, thoughtful, selfless, wise, and humble Christians that hold the oppressive power in this country!

In Hebrew culture, story was significant. It carried the power to preserve tradition, it transformed, it brought hope, it healed. One man in the film who is really stuck on prescriptives is building a creationist museum that depicts a world that was created 5-6000 years ago where humans and dinosaurs coexisted together. Why? because the Genesis "story" has to be historical and literal to him for any of the rest of it to have any meaning. He is unable to see the power of story as a valid entity in and of itself.

Does such a view point nullify the importance or significance of the Bible or some of the specifics that some Christians think should be "non-negotiables"? I don't think so. I am an artist, and I have a profound respect for the power of "story." There is something significant about human being's need for story to explain life, and I think we desperately, emphatically need it. The story of the Bible brings hope and strength to continue in this oft cruel world. Does it matter if the stories are historical? I don't know. I think a better question to ask is "Do I understand the genre and cultural context of the particular text I am reading and how or does it apply to my context today?" I do wonder if the stories are simply meant to inspire, bring hope, and belief that the old can become new. Many folks in Maher's film (and even Maher himself) are stuck in the prescriptive world. They want the scientific methods of modernism to apply to the power of narrative, and they simply don't, never did, never will.

What is touching about this film (besides the conversation with Maher's adorable mother) is that Maher admits candidly that he is not an atheist. He admits that he just doesn't know. I think it takes profound strength and honesty to admit such a thing.

There are many people, I am sure who will judge this movie before giving it a chance, which I think is very unfortunate, because it is invaluable on many levels. One, it challenges believers of the major faiths to consider the full historical and political contexts of their own traditions, and it two, it enables them to understand what their beliefs look like to an outsider.

It's good stuff. Go see it.

Brave Face

About a month ago, my best friend and I decided we were going to start training to run a marathon. Neither have us have ever attempted anything close, but decided it would be a great accomplishment and since the group we are training with is supporting a great cause we figured it was a no-brainer.

In the past, the only time I've ever ran has been when someone was chasing me, and I have to admit, I don't recall being chased all that much. But my friend's support, and the knowledge that we were part of something bigger than ourselves really helped get me motivated. My friend and I completed a five mile run last Saturday and were due for the 6 mile run this weekend. Neither of us could make the scheduled 7am run so I went around noon by myself and she had to wait until much later when she got off work which was about 9pm.

Around 10pm I get a call from my friend who was out of breath and sounding a bit upset. She told me she tripped over an uneven sidewalk and as she put her hand forward to break the fall, fearing that she also broke her wrist. This was bad news on so many levels.

1. My friend does not have insurance.
2. My friend is a hair stylist and depends on her right hand for her bread and butter.
3. As most Californians, is already scarily trying to make ends meet.

I immediately picked her up and drove her to the E.R. closest to where we live which was a clean, hospitable environment. She was seen in a reasonable amount of time, got X-rays, and waited for the results. We were hoping for a bad sprain.

A little while later an abrupt nurse with a strange sense of humor and a bad cold comes in and tells my friend that not only is her wrist broken but that she'll likely have to have surgery to fix it. The nurse, not having a clue how devastating this news was to my friend, could not grasp why my friend was in tears. She probably thought, "It's only a broken wrist...what's the big deal??" But to my friend, it was so much more. It was the reminder that no matter what, she cannot seem to catch a break. It was another worry to worry about, and another reality check that her already paycheck to paycheck situation is headed for even more trouble.

Once the doctor realized she didn't have insurance he informed her that she could not get the surgery at that hospital. We'd have to go to "County" which was 13 miles away.

I tried to console her as best I could, but what can you do or say when a situation legitimately sucks??? As I sat there with her she cried and looked at me with the saddest tear filled eyes and frowning, quivering mouth and said pleadingly, "I can't put on a brave face anymore. I just can't do it." My friend has endured so much in the past year, and throughout her entire life even. Knowing all that she has faced over the years, I can tell you, she has worn that brave face well. In my best attempts at consoling her, I kept thinking to myself, it really just isn't fair.

After the doctor put the splint on and sent us on our not so merry way we got in my car and proceeded to drive out of the E.R. parking lot. At the light, an older woman who I had seen in the E.R. earlier walked up to my passenger side door and asked if we could drive her to the train station up the street. It was a strange request, and despite the woman's frail, weak state, I was very hesitant to oblige at first. She then began to explain in very broken English that she was having chest pains so she called the ambulance. When they came she explicitly told them to take her to a General hospital because she does not have insurance. The ambulance drivers said they could only take her to Huntington, which is private. When she got there she decided not to be seen because she knew the hospital bills would exceed her tight budget, so she walked around aimlessly trying to figure out what to do next.

I told her to get in and that I'd drive her home. As we drove, she began sobbing from the depths of her soul. She started telling us that her 35 year old daughter died a few months ago and that she attributed her chest pains to the grief of her loss. She seemed to have very little. She obviously had no one to take her to or from the hospital, and from the wellspring of tears that came forth from her tired wrinkly little face, something told me she didn't have many people to share her pain with either. The nearer we got to her house the more frequently she'd say, "But I feel better now, I do. I feel better now," as if she was trying hardest to convince herself. She too, was struggling to keep up the "brave face."

Today, I had to take my friend to the other hospital which was an experience that deserves its own blog. For nine hours of my life I felt like I was in a third world country. I very literally never saw or smelled anything like what I experienced today.

I will tell you this, when I came home tonight, I got in the tub to soak away the stench of rotting flesh that lingered in the emergency room for most of the day, and I just started to sob. The reality of my own "Brave Face" set in and I just hit a point where I realized that I wish I could just yield to it. I wish there existed a time and space where I didn't have to hustle all the time, or run from one idea the next, or fear, question, debate, or work towards this or that.

The fact of the matter is that so many of us, me included, have that brave face on everyday out of pure necessity, because if we take it off, we might surely die, or at least, that's how it feels sometimes. As I sat in my tub, surrounded by silence I wept at the possibility that maybe God is the one being who allows us the luxury of being who we are, minus the brave face. Minus all the crap we hide behind that just helps us make it through the day. Maybe God is the one thing, being, force, entity, whatever...who speaks quietly to our souls and says, it's okay, you don't have to be brave right now. You can let down your guard, it is safe, I am with you. But what is even more important than just hearing the words, the words are actually true.

I think of my friend, and I want so much for her to have a sense that she is safe, protected, taken care of, and not by her own strength, or her own goddam health insurance. And I want to tell the little old lady whose daughter died, that it is okay that her heart hurts so bad from grief, and that she doesn't have to be okay, because it safe for her to be hurt and sad, and in need of help. But the reality is, they do have to have brave faces. Plain and simple. And I hate that.

I hope that somehow, some way, we find the quietest of moments to yield to the "brave face" facades, whatever form they may come in, in safe places where we are cared for and nurtured back to health.

Subversive Jealousy

When I was a senior in high school I took my first art class. It was a level 1 class so I was the only senior among a class room of freshman. (I had an idiot for a guidance counselor who encouraged me to take more "academic" courses early in high school despite my artistic predispositions.) While in that class I met a guy who I became really good friends with. His name is Justin.

Justin was an amazing artist. His work was very mature for his age, and his talent probably surpassed our teacher's, which was probably the reason our teacher harbored a bitter, jealous rage of his own. Justin didn't lose any sleep over that, though. He just kept painting, kept creating, and even in high school made significant bank selling his work. Even though I was an okay artist, I never had the drive or skill that Justin had, and as we grew older, I certainly didn't have the connections that served to open amazing doors for him professionally either.

It has been fifteen years since I first met Justin. Since that time Justin went to some of the best art schools in the country, studied art all over the world, hob nobbed with artists from all over the world, and eventually transferred his skill in painting and design into jewelry making. Justin is now the principle designer and founder of Subversive Jewelry. http://www.subversivejewelry.com/

His designs are poetic, lovely, mysterious, tragic and like nothing I've seen. Though his style of jewelry probably won't appeal to everyone, each work (in my opinion) seems to tell its own story, fusing beauty, history, glamor and the sublime-which is all so "Justin."

Justin's jewelry is worn by supermodels, is featured in fashion magazines, and is sold in L.A., N.Y., London, and Japan. The scrawny little freshman kid who used to draw obsessive pen drawings has certainly come along way.

He has come such along way in fact that recently, I have wantingly gazed at his website, longing to invest in one of his designs knowing that some of his necklaces cost as much as a full months salary for me. "What exactly am I doing wrong?" is a question that often pops into my head when I think about where my life, and my art is in comparison to Justin's. Then it hits me like a brick in the face... I am JEALOUS!

Don't get me wrong, I am ecstatic for the success that Justin has worked so hard for, and I hope that he finds more, but it doesn't stop me from wondering why I can't be like him. Why can't I be focused enough, talented enough, motivated enough, or lucky enough to find a niche for myself and run with it? Right now I am supposed to be re-writing an 'Immigration and the American Church' paper that I bombed, when all I really want to do (at the moment) is go to a coffee shop, go salsa dancing or make purses, but I don't. Nor do I re-write my shit paper. Instead, I blog about how jealous I am of a friend who is (seemingly) living the glamorous life.

I want to be the one with the sweet ass apartment in Manhattan and the pressure and deadlines of "fashion week." But instead, I am still a goddam student living in student housing, stressing over research papers and school debt all so that I can end up with a degree that prepares/qualifies me to do shit I no longer want to do. Don't get me wrong, I chose where I am right now, and at one point this is what I truly wanted. But things have changed, I have changed, and I am realizing that things are not turning out the way I expected, and that has me a little disheveled, spiritually, creatively, and vocationally, which is probably why it is so easy for me to look at someone else and say, "I want what he's having!"

Even as I write this I wonder why I chose to include the theme of jealousy as a "Dissecting the Divine" topic. On some level I guess that my jealousy speaks to a larger issue: discontentment, and to me, discontentment is a spiritual issue. I also have a hard time separating what I should be "doing" with my life, from who I am. Some just do what they do, and that works for them. For some reason, when it comes to vocation, I have this cursed perspective that it should mean something, or it should "feel" right. I just can't do something that I don't love. I know such a perspective is proof of a privileged existence because most people in the world work to survive, period, and they don't have the options I have. There is little to no thought regarding how one's work provides existential fulfillment. I don't know, maybe I'm getting sidetracked from the initial topic, which was jealousy...so, back to the point...

I just think there is something fundamentally amiss when you painfully want something that someone else has, that is likely not in your reach. Maybe my jealousy is really an indication of the fear, excuses, laziness, and lack of self determination that lies at the root of why I don't have the life my friend Justin has. Who knows, maybe my friend thinks that the grass is greener on my side of the fence in my less than 200 sq. ft. on campus, seminary apartment. HA-yeah right.

Sometimes I think I am plagued with the desire to be or do something spectacular which is often crushed with a self perception of my own mediocrity.

If there is a God, this is when I would usually ask her, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE???? If she would only give me a clear answer, then I would know. I wouldn't pursue the wrong degree, or work toward meaningless ends, and most of all, I wouldn't get jealous of other people because I'd have the confidence of knowing my own path.

God Made Me Do It

On August 6th, I watched a program on T.V. highlighting the complexities regarding China's rise to power, it's current economic boom, and the ways in which it's government perpetuates, denies, and commits egregious acts of human rights violations. To most people who pay attention to world events, none of this is new information. However, with the Olympics being held in Beijing, an opportunity has arisen for those who are compelled to advocate on behalf of the voiceless to take advantage of the moment to raise awareness in hopes of putting pressure and shame on a country known for shucking the responsibility of its ills.

The Olympics have been a venue for political agendas and social justice movements for decades, and rightfully so. People have relied on the intersection of nation and sport to speak out against war, genocide, civil rights violations, religious persecution, and more. Athletes have taken their places on podiums to accept medals and to take a stand against all kinds of injustices. This time around is no different.

Well, it's a little different. With China under sharp criticism from much of the world, one can't help but wonder why it was chosen to host a world event in the first place. Who didn't see these ensuing controversies coming? One can't help but wonder what the hell CHINA was thinking?!? I mean did you (China) really think the world was just gonna sit back and forget all the ways your own people are being policed, silenced, and controlled just because you put on a good show? Did you think we'd be so awed by your torch display that we'd overlook the fact that you do business with governments who are currently committing acts of genocide, because you depend on their natural resources?

As important as it is to understand the intricacies behind China's woeful ways, it is not the focus of this blog. The focus is on the actions of a guy who affectionately goes by the name "Pastor Eddie." Pastor Eddie is on a one man crusade to "raise awareness" worldwide by reserving hotel rooms in China, vandalizing them by painting the walls with the atrocities committed by China over the years, and then documents his handiwork and journey on a blog called http://exodus8one.org/blog

It is all over the news. I saw his wife crying on t.v. tonight as she shared her support of his "sacrificial" actions. In case you are wondering, this act is considered "sacrificial" because it is quite possible that Pastor Eddie could be executed for his actions according to Chinese law. In China, it is against the law to criticize the government. And I am sure it is against the law to vandalize a hotel room and jump ship before paying your bill, too, all of which the pastor is guilty of.

Pastor Eddie, his wife, their church, and many supporters in the U.S. (and probably abroad) applaud this man's actions and insist that he (Pastor Eddie) is acting in accordance with God's will on behalf of people in China and those in other countries negatively affected by China's policies. The blog is riddled with Excessive God Talk (EGT-a term defined and the subject of my last Dissecting the Divine blog).

Pastor Eddie, writes updates in his blog highlighting his near miss with Chinese authorities in a way that makes me wonder if he is getting a sort of "high" from all of this, and ends by asserting that "GIG." I had to rack my brain to figure out that it meant, "God is Good." -I am gagging.

God is Good to a man who left his wife, family, and church to go to China, break Chinese laws, to make a point that many others are making just as successfully, risking a LOT of prison time and possible death? I think God is looking at this guy and saying, "Dude, leave me out of this!"

Here is the thing about Pastor Eddie...he is right. He is right about the atrocities committed by the Chinese government, he is right that people of all faiths are being persecuted immensely, and he is right in his demand for global awareness and action. But to what degree is God responsible for the way in which he has chosen to raise awareness?

Let me clarify, I am not opposed to civil disobedience. (Breaking the law in order to show that the law is in in need of revision.) Martin Luther King Jr. is one of my greatest inspirations and everything he did was "against the law." He had to break the law, or no one was going to listen.

People who harbored Jews during the Holocaust "broke the law" but they did so in order to save lives. It was necessary.

But Pastor Eddie...

I wonder if his "sacrifice" and methods to raise awareness will do anything more than get a couple thousand hits on youtube as well as get him or someone else killed. I read an article online that talked about how journalists were asking hotel employees what they knew of the whole situation. The two that were referenced said they knew nothing, that they didn't even hear of the event. Which reveals one of two things: Either the Chinese control over media kept employees of the actual hotel unaware of what happened INSIDE the hotel, or these employees are scared shitless that they will be arrested for mentioning a word of this to the foreign press. Yikes! Does this guy realize what harm he might be doing?

The other thing that baffles me is the fact that his wife is left behind as are his adult children and their six grandchildren, to wait and wonder what the fate of this lone soldier renegade holds. And they ALL confirm that God is behind this 100%.

This is precisely what I was talking about in my last blog. What is it that convinces this man that God is directing his actions in this way, and why is it that I strongly believe that such is not the case? Somebody is wrong. Somebody is not getting the correct message.

In a recent staff meeting one of the older sages I work with responded to my increasing concern over students who say things like "God told me I am supposed to go to Fuller" while their application deficiencies led to another fate. He said, (I am paraphrasing) "Students who believe God is speaking to them specifically about this program or that, would best be served if they conceded to the reality that they feel compelled by a very valid need to do SOMETHING about that perceived need, and are in the process of figuring out how to make that happen." Such wise words.

I believe that Pastor Eddie perceives a valid need. A need for global awareness, a need for social justice, a need for liberation from a very powerful government, a need for the dark atrocities of a nation to be brought to the light. What I don't believe is that God is behind his seemingly unwise and unnecessary sacrifice. I think God does require sacrifice but I just can't see God requiring sacrifice in vain. If other measures, media outlets, etc are in place that are making people question unjust Chinese foreign policy, what is the point of putting your own head on the chopping block? I can't think of anything more self righteous, UN-godly, and just plain non-sensical.

Now you might be saying, well look at the attention this guy is getting, doesn't that account for something? I would say yes, if CHINA WASN'T ALREADY MAKING HEADLINE NEWS WITH ALL ITS BAD STUFF! American media LOVES hating China. There is no shortage of their atrocities on mainstream news media outlets here. No shortage whatsoever. If such was not the case, I'd be the first to sign up for Pastor Eddie's blog.

For now, I am not sure what to make of it. What do you think? Do you think God told Pastor Eddie to do it? What did you know of China before this blog, or before hearing of Pastor Eddie on the news (if you have)? Has his efforts enlightened you about China more than other sources?

(Please resist the "he believes what he believes, I believe what I believe" kind of rhetoric as a means of avoiding critique of this situation. It is a myth that what one believes is between that one person and God. We don't exist in a vacuum. Everything we think, do, and believe affects everything outside of ourselves. Don't be afraid to say "yes" or "no" to the above questions, just be prepared to back it up.)

Dissect away my pretties.

God Talk

Lately, I have become increasingly amused by what I call "Excessive God Talk" aka, EGT. Some people prefer the term "Christianese." Either is fine I suppose. Both phrases denote a use of words that are usually only acceptable or legitimate when used around other "Godly" people. Phrases that are clear signs of EGT include, but are not limited to:

God told me...
I am waiting to hear God's voice...
When I hear from him (God) I'll let you know...
Greetings in the name of our gracious savior, the Lord Jesus Christ...
"Under the care of his wing" (instead of "Sincerely" at the end of a letter)
I saw the face of God in my face...
and my personal favorite: The Devil is a liar...

The list goes on.

(By the way, all of the above phrases are things I have actually read or heard at work or over the phone. It never ceases to amaze me how specifically and clearly God speaks to some people!)

People who talk and think this way provoke one of two reactions.

1. What am I doing wrong that causes God to be so indirect and nondescript when it comes to my life journey and spiritual revelation?

OR

2. What the hell are these people smoking?

The crazy part is that I actually used to talk and think like that. I used to say that God "led" me here, or there. And I used to believe that all my decisions were based on the "fact" that he was speaking to me. I never defined it as a literal, audible voice, but rather a belief in my heart that God was nudging me in one way over another.

When I think about it now though, I am not as convinced as I once was about those "God spoke to me" moments. I now wonder if they weren't just natural development of my interests, passions, and personal desires. I know, I know, who's to say that those things aren't motivated or shaped by God's will? I don't know how to answer that, which is half the reason I am writing this post.

All I know is that when I hear people say that they undoubtedly, irrefutably hear God talking to them, I can't help but question their sanity. Maybe my feelings are based in a deep seeded jealousy that God isn't talking so clearly and directly to me. Or maybe it's the fact that so many people I know at one time or another were convinced that they were hearing God, when in fact they were hearing the wishes of their own subconscious.

Ex: I knew a woman in college who was convinced that God spoke to her in a dream and said that she was to marry another friend of ours. I did not think she was hearing right, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt and "waited" with her as she patiently prayed for the day he would propose, even though they never dated. She was convinced that God placed a supernatural ring on her finger in her dream and that since she woke up from that dream she could still sense the feeling of an actual ring on her finger even though she wasn't actually wearing one. A year later, the guy did propose...to another woman. Nine years later, they are still married.

Another woman I know applied to a PhD program, convinced that this was the direction in which God was leading her, because that's what he told her. Hmm. Convenient. Apparently God forgot to tell her that she needed to know how to properly construct a thesis statement and supporting citations in her essay. She was denied on the basis that her writing skills were insufficient for Doctoral level work. "WHAT??? BUT GOD TOLD ME!!!! The Devil is a liar!!!"

I find that when things don't go the way people suffering from EGT syndrome expect, they blame the devil. This is a convenient strategy for people who can't stand the thought of taking personal responsibility for one's actions, irrationality, poor decisions and lack skills or common sense.

Being confronted with EGT (as entertaining as it sometimes is) really does frustrate me. Not only is it frustrating, but it is one of the main reasons I can't step foot into a church right now. Too much EGT!!!! Last week I was at a church and a woman was sharing how she has just started making crocheted purses and she kept saying, "I KNOW God keeps telling me to sell my stuff in Santa Monica." Really? So God is taking up marketing now? Why can't this woman realize that the urge to go to Santa Monica to sell her wares is more about a logical understanding that people who visit or live in Santa Monica typically have an indiscriminate amount of money to spend on trendy crocheted handbags???? Revelation from God, and logical assessment of supply and demand are not the same thing. UGH!

I don't know, maybe my cynicism is at work again, poisoning my ability to see the intimate handiwork of God in the everyday things of our lives.

I mean, Jesus did tell the disciples to throw their nets over the other side of the boat after an unyielding, exhausting day of labor, and the result was an abundances of fish that nearly snapped their nets! But Jesus was actually right there with them, giving direct guidance in the form of legible words coming directly out of his mouth. More than that, there was an end result that was directly in line with the direction. Such an event cannot compare to what we have to go by when we think God is speaking to us. So how can we be so sure when or if God is speaking?

Does all of this mean that I don't think God (if he or she does exist) doesn't speak to people? Of course not. What kind of God would God be if he/she didn't reveal himself/herself to us in some way. And what would be our purpose if we couldn't discern that revelation?

To me it all comes down to basic, philosophical, epistemological (theory of knowledge)questions:

What is knowledge? (in this case in regards to God's revelation)
How is that knowledge acquired?
What do people know?
How do we know what we know?

All questions I have no answers to.