I apologize to regular readers for not posting for nearly two weeks. My excuses are many, including a week-long visit by my parents, the hob-nobbing that went along with my Dad's January Series lecture, getting the flu, friends returning from interims away, and the general stuff of life. Some updates though...
With reference to my last post, the meeting was almost as frustrating as the original newspaper article that started it all. The good news was about 100 people showed up. The bad was that no plans were made, no strategies were formed, and probably nothing will come of it. For the 100 people in the room it was a time of healing and reconciliation. Sadly, I think it will likely stop there except for people already involved in the community. This was not the start of a new anti-racism initiative that I hoped it would be. I am, however, more and more convinced that the solution involves white people in this community crossing the residential segregation lines. I learned this community is the second most residentially segregated community in the most residentially segregated state in the US. People will never stop seeing race in terms of "us" and "them" until they become comfortable and not fearful around people of other races.
As I mentioned I had a lovely time with Mom and Dad. His lecture seemed to go well, and their visit gave me opportunity to see friends and family I don't often get together with. I was surprised how different their visit here was from my visit home at Christmas. I felt remarkably more at ease with them here, showing how much this community has become my home. I think I'll always have the mountains in my blood, but this little Midwestern city feels very comfortable to me these days. That must mean it's time to move.
And I'm supposed to be sharing my thoughts on The Openness of God for our book club, Thorubos. I haven't gotten too far because I'm actually in the middle of several books at the moment: My Story as Told by Water by David James Duncan, How the Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill, and most recently Receiving the Day by Dorothy Bass. It's hard to make headway on any individual one because they're all so good! So, for now, I refer you to my excellent friends Kent and Bethany. Of course if you are Kent or Bethany (which is highly likely) I apologize for not posting anything on open theism yet. At least I put up something!
1/16/2005
urban life
(Listening to John Legend)
In an hour the mayor is going to be leading a community meeting at my church next door to discuss the recent spike in violent crime among minorities in our community. A week ago the police chief, Harry Dolan, publicly complained that the minority community was not responding to this crisis, asking "where's the outrage?" The African-American community, in particular, has responded by vehemently denying Dolan's charge and attacking the police department for racial profiling. Basically everybody is pointing the finger at somebody else while more young African-Americans and Latinos are getting killed all the time. I'm glad Hartwell has called this meeting, at least, but I'm not sure what good will come of it. The problem starts with the public education in this town, but that's tied to the funding that comes from property taxes of those who live in the district. Because something like 40% of the people in my neighborhood live below the poverty line, the schools will never get the funding they need. Of course, just throwing money at the problem won't make it disappear. There is the question of how to bring businesses into a neighborhood with that much poverty and an 89% African-American and 11% Latino population, the problem of institutional racism, the fact that almost nobody owns their home, and -most importantly- how can we change the culture of the neighborhood so that young people believe things can change? How do we fight the hopelessness and defeatism? I don't know, but we have to start by building relationships one person at a time.
In an hour the mayor is going to be leading a community meeting at my church next door to discuss the recent spike in violent crime among minorities in our community. A week ago the police chief, Harry Dolan, publicly complained that the minority community was not responding to this crisis, asking "where's the outrage?" The African-American community, in particular, has responded by vehemently denying Dolan's charge and attacking the police department for racial profiling. Basically everybody is pointing the finger at somebody else while more young African-Americans and Latinos are getting killed all the time. I'm glad Hartwell has called this meeting, at least, but I'm not sure what good will come of it. The problem starts with the public education in this town, but that's tied to the funding that comes from property taxes of those who live in the district. Because something like 40% of the people in my neighborhood live below the poverty line, the schools will never get the funding they need. Of course, just throwing money at the problem won't make it disappear. There is the question of how to bring businesses into a neighborhood with that much poverty and an 89% African-American and 11% Latino population, the problem of institutional racism, the fact that almost nobody owns their home, and -most importantly- how can we change the culture of the neighborhood so that young people believe things can change? How do we fight the hopelessness and defeatism? I don't know, but we have to start by building relationships one person at a time.
1/11/2005
shylock
Here's something that's been bouncing around my head today: why do I keep turning God into Shylock? For those of you who may not be familiar with "The Merchant of Venice," the protagonist Antonio (oddly enough, a Venetian merchant) is short of cash and needs a loan. He turns to his enemy- a Jew named Shylock (always seemed like a bit of an odd choice to me). Shylock agrees to the loan, but makes Antonio agree to offer a pound of flesh as collateral should something go wrong. And, because Shakespeare was his day's answer to the Lifetime network, Antonio's ships are wrecked, pirated, and probably worse meaning he's lost everything. More importantly he can't pay his debt. Of course, any normal person would waive the disgusting fee, but then no no normal person would have made that a condition in the first place. Without too much detail about why Shylock wants to make Antonio pay, it's safe to say Shylock wants it simply because it's his. The pound of flesh won't benefit him, it won't make him money (at least directly), or any friends in Venice where Antonio is well-liked. He wants it because he deserves it, by law.
I often see God this way. We've sinned, and we deserve to be punished for it. God deserves far more, even, than a simple pound of flesh. It's easy to question God's judgment and wonder why he doesn't just forgive the sin without a thought. I even find myself getting mad at God for getting mad at us - you know, big bad God who sits in judgment over all of us who deserve to die. This is wrong. God does not delight in punishing us. He doesn't want to punish sinners simply because he has a right to. But God is just, and simply forgiving the debt would undermine that. God, who is himself the definition of justice, must be satisfied. I guess theologians call it the satisfaction theory of atonement. It's what allows us to live free of guilt (our debt has not been just forgiven, but paid by another) and shows us how mercy can be just.
And, for the record, don't bash Shylock too much. When played well he is one of the most heart-wrenchingly conflicted characters that ol' Billy the Bard created (played poorly he's comic relief). After all, who else gets to say, "I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" (III, i) Shakespeare rarely wrote better stuff than that.
I often see God this way. We've sinned, and we deserve to be punished for it. God deserves far more, even, than a simple pound of flesh. It's easy to question God's judgment and wonder why he doesn't just forgive the sin without a thought. I even find myself getting mad at God for getting mad at us - you know, big bad God who sits in judgment over all of us who deserve to die. This is wrong. God does not delight in punishing us. He doesn't want to punish sinners simply because he has a right to. But God is just, and simply forgiving the debt would undermine that. God, who is himself the definition of justice, must be satisfied. I guess theologians call it the satisfaction theory of atonement. It's what allows us to live free of guilt (our debt has not been just forgiven, but paid by another) and shows us how mercy can be just.
And, for the record, don't bash Shylock too much. When played well he is one of the most heart-wrenchingly conflicted characters that ol' Billy the Bard created (played poorly he's comic relief). After all, who else gets to say, "I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" (III, i) Shakespeare rarely wrote better stuff than that.
1/09/2005
home alone
It's Saturday night and all six of my housemates are gone so I'm stuck in a big old house whose radiator is currently making some very strange noises. Of course I can barely hear that over the rumbling snow plows and the soothing Cole Porter. This rare combination of nobody around and not much to do (nothing that can't be put off, I guess) has made for a relaxing evening. In fact, it's been a really mellow day in general. I slept late (9:30!) and then bought $100 worth of groceries. I'm always amazed how much food our house can eat, and we're not even all living here at the moment. I spent some time on the latest job application, trying to find the perfect balance of pride and humility, so they know I have some skills but don't think I'm a narcissist. Something I should maybe think about more when I blog...
The highlight of my day was going to the Calvin vs. Albion men's college basketball game. Who couldn't like two tiny Division III schools battling it out as if a trip to the Final Four was on the line. Calvin had a three point shot at the buzzer that would have sent the game to overtime, but it rimmed out. I'm a little hoarse now. While I was waiting for the game to start I got the chance to start a new book, "Home is Always the Place You Just Left" by Betty Smartt Carter. It's too early to tell for sure, but so far I like it. Here's an excerpt:
"Actually, "Why?" may be the most devout question any human being can ask, because of what it implies about God. If I ask, "How did the universe get here?" I'm showing curiosity. If I ask, "Who made all this?" I'm only admitting that some powerful being may be necessary to explain so much matter and energy swirling around in nothingness, like dirty footprints on a kitchen floor. But if I ask, "Why is the universe here?" or even "Why do I get canker sores after eating strawberries?" I show hope for order in this mess. I want to know whether God tramps through nothingness for a reason, and whether all this junk , this frenzied mud I wade through from one second to the next, is maybe a trail that leads somewhere. To ask why shows that I have expectations, and expectations are the beginning of faith - however small, however many times crushed and reborn."
The highlight of my day was going to the Calvin vs. Albion men's college basketball game. Who couldn't like two tiny Division III schools battling it out as if a trip to the Final Four was on the line. Calvin had a three point shot at the buzzer that would have sent the game to overtime, but it rimmed out. I'm a little hoarse now. While I was waiting for the game to start I got the chance to start a new book, "Home is Always the Place You Just Left" by Betty Smartt Carter. It's too early to tell for sure, but so far I like it. Here's an excerpt:
"Actually, "Why?" may be the most devout question any human being can ask, because of what it implies about God. If I ask, "How did the universe get here?" I'm showing curiosity. If I ask, "Who made all this?" I'm only admitting that some powerful being may be necessary to explain so much matter and energy swirling around in nothingness, like dirty footprints on a kitchen floor. But if I ask, "Why is the universe here?" or even "Why do I get canker sores after eating strawberries?" I show hope for order in this mess. I want to know whether God tramps through nothingness for a reason, and whether all this junk , this frenzied mud I wade through from one second to the next, is maybe a trail that leads somewhere. To ask why shows that I have expectations, and expectations are the beginning of faith - however small, however many times crushed and reborn."
1/07/2005
a new year
I'm back from my extended holiday break, and I'm actually quite glad. Don't get me wrong - the two weeks off were the refreshing break I needed. But as I unpacked the other night I caught myself saying, "it's good to be home - to feel like I'm in my own comfortable space again." That's scary, though, because Grand Rapids is not home. It can't be home! I need to get out of here fast so my nomadic tendencies don't disappear. I still try to limit all my worldly goods and possessions to what I can fit in a car so I can make a fast get-away (it helps to have a car for that, of course), so I guess my itchy feet haven't quite settled down yet.
I've long wondered about this tendency in me ( "Searching For Home" by M. Craig Barnes discusses it in great detail) and I've concluded it's half defense mechanism and half laziness. I don't want to stay in one place too long because that would mean I might have to actually develop intimacy with people. And worse, if I stay I have to actually face some deeper issues that only come up when you've been in a community for a long time. I'm working on this, but we'll see if it actually sinks in. It didn't for my Dad, and his Dad before him, so I'm not holding my breath.
Anyway, back to my lovely vacation. The week in Seattle made me wonder why I ever left that side of the country, especially the bright sunny days with views of the mountains (in Seattle n January - crazy!). I was spiritually encouraged and refreshed by my time with the Sanctuary crew. My sister and brother-in-law have been involved with this church plant from the beginning and now I understand why they like it so much. My buddy Kent said it better than I can. It's a pleasure to have such smart friends.
I was challenged by a few books I read over the break. The combination of "The Blood of the Lamb" by Peter DeVries and "Under the Banner of Heaven" by John Krackauer was particularly interesting. DeVries writes one of the darkest novels I've ever read, but it's terribly funny (and thus, a terrific read). And Krackauer brings into question the very concept of religious belief, as in why do we believe illogical things? He does this by analyzing Mormon fundamentalists, but the scary thing is they sound a lot like your everyday garden-variety Christian - I mean besides the polygamy thing. Anyway, I've had to remind myself, once again, why exactly I believe this crazy stuff I do. It's a good process to go through on a regular basis.
(P.S. I'm listening to the latest from Caedmon's Call - Share The Well - I think I like it, but I'm not sure yet. I like what they're trying to do, at least.)
I've long wondered about this tendency in me ( "Searching For Home" by M. Craig Barnes discusses it in great detail) and I've concluded it's half defense mechanism and half laziness. I don't want to stay in one place too long because that would mean I might have to actually develop intimacy with people. And worse, if I stay I have to actually face some deeper issues that only come up when you've been in a community for a long time. I'm working on this, but we'll see if it actually sinks in. It didn't for my Dad, and his Dad before him, so I'm not holding my breath.
Anyway, back to my lovely vacation. The week in Seattle made me wonder why I ever left that side of the country, especially the bright sunny days with views of the mountains (in Seattle n January - crazy!). I was spiritually encouraged and refreshed by my time with the Sanctuary crew. My sister and brother-in-law have been involved with this church plant from the beginning and now I understand why they like it so much. My buddy Kent said it better than I can. It's a pleasure to have such smart friends.
I was challenged by a few books I read over the break. The combination of "The Blood of the Lamb" by Peter DeVries and "Under the Banner of Heaven" by John Krackauer was particularly interesting. DeVries writes one of the darkest novels I've ever read, but it's terribly funny (and thus, a terrific read). And Krackauer brings into question the very concept of religious belief, as in why do we believe illogical things? He does this by analyzing Mormon fundamentalists, but the scary thing is they sound a lot like your everyday garden-variety Christian - I mean besides the polygamy thing. Anyway, I've had to remind myself, once again, why exactly I believe this crazy stuff I do. It's a good process to go through on a regular basis.
(P.S. I'm listening to the latest from Caedmon's Call - Share The Well - I think I like it, but I'm not sure yet. I like what they're trying to do, at least.)
1/06/2005
12/16/2004
learning things that matter
Don't you hate when your education gets in the way of your education? At approximately 1:45 last night, I realized the take-home final I was writing had far less educational value than the latest crazy project of Nathan's. At about 11:00 he decided that multinational media conglomerates are evil and wanted to find out just how powerful they are (basically about 7 corporations control all media worldwide - I would say pretty powerful). He started with Universal Vivendi, and found that almost every music group he has ever listened to is signed by a label they own. At some point during his rant I pointed him in the direction of PBS's fantastic special on marketing to teenagers, The Merchants of Cool. After watching the hour long program, he felt like his blinders had been taken off. I don't think I've seen him that excited since he discovered the joys of online poker. And there I was, sitting at my computer trying to explain why Rev. Hooper is a prideful jerk, not a penitent sinner. Now how is that can help save the world?
12/15/2004
(real) memory
[now playing: Diana Krall's The Girl in the Other Room (check it out)]
I had a bit too much caffeine this morning because I was out a bit too late last night, and now I've hit the wave of afternoon sleepiness. I used to just give in and nap for 20 minutes. Not so these days - now I either have more caffeine (usually a bad option) or try to get up, walk around, and get the blood pumping a bit (a good option). When I was growing up I took naps every day, at least in the summer. It might be those great memories of falling asleep in the backyard hammock with a book on my chest and the sun on my face, but this sleepy feeling always makes me a bit nostalgic. Our house didn't have a great backyard, but the hammock made up for it.
Or did it? I have memories of an idyllic childhood full of playing baseball in the empty lot on our street, catching frogs in the creek, riding bikes to the park so we could play "tennis" (our version consisted of trying to hit each other as hard as we could with tennis balls using my Dad's heavy old wooden rackets), and lots of fun "kid" stuff. But I don't remember being particularly happy as a child. If I was having as much fun as I remember, why wasn't I generally happier? I guess my point is that memory isn't always reliable. Who knows what sort of Freudian repression is going on in my head? But the granola bar I ate is kicking in - I feel awake and should get back to work.
I had a bit too much caffeine this morning because I was out a bit too late last night, and now I've hit the wave of afternoon sleepiness. I used to just give in and nap for 20 minutes. Not so these days - now I either have more caffeine (usually a bad option) or try to get up, walk around, and get the blood pumping a bit (a good option). When I was growing up I took naps every day, at least in the summer. It might be those great memories of falling asleep in the backyard hammock with a book on my chest and the sun on my face, but this sleepy feeling always makes me a bit nostalgic. Our house didn't have a great backyard, but the hammock made up for it.
Or did it? I have memories of an idyllic childhood full of playing baseball in the empty lot on our street, catching frogs in the creek, riding bikes to the park so we could play "tennis" (our version consisted of trying to hit each other as hard as we could with tennis balls using my Dad's heavy old wooden rackets), and lots of fun "kid" stuff. But I don't remember being particularly happy as a child. If I was having as much fun as I remember, why wasn't I generally happier? I guess my point is that memory isn't always reliable. Who knows what sort of Freudian repression is going on in my head? But the granola bar I ate is kicking in - I feel awake and should get back to work.
12/14/2004
Madness
Allow me to vent a bit. One of my neighbors is an 8th grader named Mahi. He knows that the seven of us in my house are happy to hang out with the kids from the neighborhood (as all the kids know), so he comes over and we play ping-pong or monopoly from time to time. Yesterday, as I was leaving around 8 AM, I saw him walking down the street. I thought he was supposed to be at school by 7:30 but wasn't sure, so I just waved and left because I was running late.
When I got home for lunch at about 12:30, Mahi was sitting in our living room watching a movie with my housemate Laura. It turns out he got into a fight on Friday and is suspended from school all week. His aunt, who he lives with, was so mad she locked him out of the house when she went to work. Basically, if he he didn't come to our place Mahi would be wandering the streets all week. Does this seem like an intelligent move by his school administrators?
To be fair, I should mention Mahi has a history of bad behavior. Most recently (last year) he got sent to an alternative school for troubled kids. I don't get it, though, because he is the most polite and respectful kid in the neighborhood, easily. When I talked to him about it, he said kids were picking on him, and he "just doesn't like to be touched." So, it's a classic case of a kid with a reputation and a short fuse getting targeted by instigators in his classes. They mess with him because they know they'll get a reaction, and more often than not Mahi will take the blame for it.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not letting Mahi off the hook. He deserves to be punished, but this punishment is idiocy! Let's take him out of school for a week, so he gets further behind in his classes, gets more frustrated at school, and expresses that frustration by acting up more. Great plan! Laura made him do his homework, but when he finished in an hour (he's bright too), she had nothing else to do. They ended up watching a movie because the he was bored out of his mind. He actually wanted to go back to school! I'm not a parent or a teacher, but this doesn't seem like the way our school system should handle discipline.
When I got home for lunch at about 12:30, Mahi was sitting in our living room watching a movie with my housemate Laura. It turns out he got into a fight on Friday and is suspended from school all week. His aunt, who he lives with, was so mad she locked him out of the house when she went to work. Basically, if he he didn't come to our place Mahi would be wandering the streets all week. Does this seem like an intelligent move by his school administrators?
To be fair, I should mention Mahi has a history of bad behavior. Most recently (last year) he got sent to an alternative school for troubled kids. I don't get it, though, because he is the most polite and respectful kid in the neighborhood, easily. When I talked to him about it, he said kids were picking on him, and he "just doesn't like to be touched." So, it's a classic case of a kid with a reputation and a short fuse getting targeted by instigators in his classes. They mess with him because they know they'll get a reaction, and more often than not Mahi will take the blame for it.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not letting Mahi off the hook. He deserves to be punished, but this punishment is idiocy! Let's take him out of school for a week, so he gets further behind in his classes, gets more frustrated at school, and expresses that frustration by acting up more. Great plan! Laura made him do his homework, but when he finished in an hour (he's bright too), she had nothing else to do. They ended up watching a movie because the he was bored out of his mind. He actually wanted to go back to school! I'm not a parent or a teacher, but this doesn't seem like the way our school system should handle discipline.
12/13/2004
Why I'm not having kids
Tonight I went to the Sunday School Christmas program at church. It was pretty typical - Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise man, and even a King Herod. When I was growing up our church never did these things, and I sort of wonder what the point is. Somewhere between the star falling off its post and the shepherd accidentally nailing baby Jesus in the head with his staff, I looked around and noticed all the adults (including me) were chuckling. It wasn't malicious, but so what? We just sat there, smugly enjoying the unintentional humor of it. I guess there's something to getting the kids involved and making them feel important. But it's reducing the story to a cliche joke. Thinking about it kind of makes me feel dirty.
But then kids in the church have always posed questions for me. If they don't want to be there can/should parents make them go? Should the church pound home the gospel to little kids (like it does) if it's only going to develop a simplistic faith that never grows up? And then how do we help that faith mature as the kid does, so by the time she or he hits the big questions in life they have more than the trite Sunday School answers? The more I think about it, the more I realize kids are hard. You should have to pass some sort of intelligence test before you can have one...
But then kids in the church have always posed questions for me. If they don't want to be there can/should parents make them go? Should the church pound home the gospel to little kids (like it does) if it's only going to develop a simplistic faith that never grows up? And then how do we help that faith mature as the kid does, so by the time she or he hits the big questions in life they have more than the trite Sunday School answers? The more I think about it, the more I realize kids are hard. You should have to pass some sort of intelligence test before you can have one...
12/12/2004
Greetings
Hmmmm, I guess it's time to venture into the big bad world of blogging. Here's a thought to get things started: why are we so obsessed with other people's lives? Reality tv, memoir (the hottest literary genre out there), even blogging - it's all about full disclosure. Is it a lack of genuine intimacy in our culture? Escapism? Looking to other people's lives for inspiration? Or has this just substituted reading novels, the old way of taking care of those problems?
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