After hours of sunshine and volleyball yesterday, Renea and I headed back to the chalet to relax and do our Sunday ritual, during which I knit while she reads to me from the second of the Ender books. (I know, I am spoiled) We had the door flung open in my living room to allow in a breeze, when suddenly our noses detected rain in the air, the skies 
And then we ate crepes. MmmmmCrepes.
The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life has recently released a new report on religion in America, and the results are really interesting. The article says that Americans are 'non-dogmatic', which seems almost to be an understatement! We talk a lot about postmodernity here at l'abri, and while I wouldn't want to equate postmodernity and relativism, our culture certainly seems to produce a certain murkiness or uncertainty about how strongly we are able/allowed to hold our beliefs. This survey seems to bear that out - 66% percent of Protestants and 79% of Catholics believe that many religions can lead to eternal life. And it's not just Christians who hold their faith in such a 'true for me' way - over 80% of Jewish, Hindu, and Buddhist respondents believe the same, as well as 56% of Muslims.
It makes me wonder what churches are teaching - not that we can or should take a small view of the power of God to save or even pretend to know exactly what that looks like - the perennial questions of babies and people who haven't heard the gospel, etc. come to mind. I don't know that we have enough information to make an absolute judgment on that, and don't think we have to - I'm fairly content to let God be God on such weighty matters. But on the question of God himself - I'm unclear why, if solid biblical teaching is taking place, 19% of Protestants and 29% of Catholics surveyed (2 and 3% of whom, respectively, say that there is no God at all) believe that there is a God but not a personal one. God as impersonal force. How can even a superficial perusal of the OT (50% of Jews say that God is impersonal, by the way) or the gospel accounts lead to that conclusion? But then, 28% of folks who answered from mainline churches don't believe that the Bible is the word of God, anyway.
I don't know, I hate that writing even a little thing like this makes me cringe, knowing that I will likely be thought judgmental for not having such a total openness. But I think that total openness lacks humility just as much as total closedness. I'm just sad that we've reached the point in many conversations where to make any kind of truth claim is taboo.
Anyway, you should check out the site, there is tons of interesting data on the religious landscape, as well as how it affects politics, which will be interesting to watch as this election year progresses.
Most of you know that I am a giant Joss Whedon fan. He's a brilliant, brilliant man. Well, he's working on a new web project, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, which will be a three part musical starring Nathan Fillion (that's Captain Tightpants, for you Firefly/Serenity fans), Felicia Day, and Neil Patrick Harris. They've just released the trailer and it looks legen (wait for it) dary. (If you've not seen How I Met Your Mother that last sentence probably makes no sense. Sorry)
It seems that fear and love are inextricably bound together. If we love nothing, we have nothing to fear losing. So fear itself is not the problem, but only an excessive fear or a lack completely thereof.
So what should we fear? Scripturally it seems that fear of the Lord is in order, and is both spiritual gift and wisdom. However, we ought not fear the Lord as a threatening or coercive power. But, argues Ellen Davis, simple reverence is perhaps not the best interpretation either. She says, "The writers are speaking first and foremost of our proper gut response to God. Fear is the unmistakable feeling in our bodies, in our stomach and our scalp, when we run up hard against the power of God. From a biblical perspective, there is nothing neurotic about fearing God. The neurotic thing is not to be afraid, or to be afraid of the wrong thing... Fear of the Lord is the deeply sane recognition that we are not God." (44)
Aquinas makes the distinction between 'filial fear' and 'servile fear'. Servile fear prompts one to act rightly because of a fear of punishment. Filial fear, on the other hand, acts rightly because of a love relationship that you don't want to damage by acting contrary to it. Our relationship with God ought to be prompted more by a filial fear than a servile fear.
Aquinas also argues that one can become fearless in three ways, none of which are good or healthy: "through a 'lack of love' (loving nothing enough to fear its loss), through 'dullness of understanding' (not knowing or acknowledging the danger or threat), or through 'pride of soul' (refusing to believe that one is susceptible to loss)." (45)
Bader-Saye expounds upon each of these, but of particular interest I thought was the last one. He comments that 'pride of soul' can lead to a pursuit of invulnerability, which can be achieved only when one achieves totalitarian power and/or destruction of all potential threats. Bad for individuals, bad for governments.
He goes into a lengthy description of the Star Wars saga as a parable of fear and fearlessness, which is good and helpful, but I just can't in good conscience devote much space to Yoda. I know, it's small of me.
Next week: Putting Fear in its Place
Looking at identity ideologies that develop when identity is threatened, the authors point to militant Islamists, the terror of the Gaza strip, and the lessons of apartheid and Nazism. These all seem like impossible progressions of the 'American Dream', but our nationalist identity could indeed be slinking towards ideology, just look at Guantanamo Bay and the treatment of prisoners there (although the recent Supreme Court ruling is, I believe, a step in the right direction). To start treating people as less than human may be pragmatic and even somewhat effective as a means to an and (although even that is questionable), but at what price? Is it okay for us to redefine our morals in the pursuit of self-preservation, or is the Christian call radically risky?
Here's an interesting paragraph from the book that sort of sums it up:
During difficult times democracy falters and the national urge for a strong leader and tighter security returns... When self-preservation becomes our highest goal, then we deem whatever contributes to it as strong and whatever detracts from it as weak. Further, the all-encompassing desire for self-preservation can lead us to redefine good and evil, whereby good becomes whatever preserves us and evil becomes whatever threatens us. In the aftermath of September 11, did not President Bush declare, in a paraphrase of John 1:15, that 'the light [America] has shone in the darkness [the enemies of America], and the darkness will not overcome it'? These words have echoes of a nationalist ideology. If this ideological impulse is allowed to progress, its cures will be worse than the illness, and the means for maintaining order will slip out of control. And then it will be too late. (p. 82)
So what do y'all think? Do you see the new American doctrine of preemption as a 'necessary evil' or a step along a dangerous path? As a nation do we have a responsibility to protect ourselves, and how far does/should that protection take us? It's murky sometimes, I know, and I'm curious how y'all feel about it.
Knitting freak that I am, I have already finished four sweaters this term, and wanted to challenge myself to learn a new skill: Knitting two socks at the same time on two circular needles. You use two balls of yarn, and just pray that it doesn't end up a tangled mess. After spending nearly three hours casting on, joining, and knitting a few rows of ribbing, I am now the proud owner of, you guessed it, a tangled mess. Sigh.
Currently looks like this:
Hopefully I can update soon with good news from the knitting front...
Barack Obama has declined to use public funding for his general election campaign despite earlier clues that he would use it, and some people seem none too happy about it. I don't know a ton about it, but it all seems to be a mixed bag. I think spending limits are good (public funding would place a ceiling at 85 million dollars), but does it really limit spending if you've got lobbyists and special interest groups that can still spend a virtually unlimited amount? Is there any way to actually limit spending? Do private donations encourage political favors - even in relatively small amounts? (A great site to check for up-to-date numbers is OpenSecrets - find out where the money is coming from and where it's going to)
I don't know... does it matter as an campaign ethics thing or will campaign spending pretty much just stay out of control no matter which way you spin it? Anyone have an opinion on the topic?
You can watch the video announcement below:
One of the questions I get asked most often is why I am a vegetarian. I think people often assume one chooses to go that route because they are sentimental about God's furry little creatures. Well, I have to admit, I'm not really that sentimental. I mean, I love animals and don't relish the idea of their pain, but I also don't have any fundamental issues with eating them. I don't think that it is theologically problematic at all. That said, I would definitely call into question the factory farming practices that are widely used.
However, I am somewhat sentimental about humans, and creation in general. So I've gone veggie in large part because I think that most meat is raised/processed in ways that are not healthy for my body. Not only the drugs used on the animals directly, but the agricultural chemicals that go into the grains they are fed. I don't really want to put all that into my system. And that applies not only to meat, but in trying not to eat a lot of processed foods in general.
Also, I think that the methods used in raising livestock are often not good for the planet. Farming and ranching are often separated in ways that leave lots to be desired, and the massive deforestation that is happening to make room for more livestock is problematic, I think. Other environmental factors are pollution, soil erosion due to overgrazing, more greenhouse gases than all the cars and trucks in the world combined, and the list goes on. Plus, animals raised for meat consume tons of feed (for example, it takes about 16 pounds of soybeans and grains to produce 1 pound of beef) that could potentially be used for feeding us human folk. It's plausible that eating lower on the food chain could ultimately help with some of the hunger issues worldwide if it was done on a larger scale.
That said (and it's terribly oversimplified for purposes of brevity), I wouldn't want to preach or pretend that vegetarians have some greater degree of ethical sensitivity, having in some way attained an enlightenment that omnivores don't have. Truthfully, I am an omnivore when I can be. I love that my dad and brothers hunt and fish, and I have no dilemma at all in eating the venison and redfish that I'm happy grace my plate when I'm home. I don't have any ethical problem with wild meat. And while I have some reservations, as there is no perfect system, I would probably eat free range organic meat and non-farm raised salmon if I could afford it. I know I can't be totally consistent (and vegans could call me hypocritical in a heartbeat), but I feel like I need to do what I can. For me it's about claiming control over that which is in my power, since so many of the things that grieve me about the world are completely outside of the scope of what I can do. So I look for ways to go green, but recognize that no matter what I do, it's probably insufficient and/or contains problems that I'm simply not aware of. It's somewhat overwhelming, actually.
So there it is, my little spiel. For more information on vegetarianism, I'd recommend The New Becoming Vegetarian. It offers a much better articulated rationale for the whys, as well as giving lots of great nutritional information to help make the best food choices you can if you decide to cut out or decrease your meat intake.
To answer this question, he asserts that we must first ask whether we can even speak of fear as a moral issue at all. After all, we're not accustomed to ascribing anything more to our emotions than neutrality. Bader-Saye calls our attention to theologian Simon Harak on the issue to show that our emotions can indeed have a moral dimension: "It is somehow wrong not to feel revulsion at rape, or to stay forever angry with imperfect parents. It is somehow right to rejoice at a friend's success, or to be moved by the plight of an abused child. So it seems upon reflection that our passions can be morally praise-or blameworthy." (25)
As applied to fear, while he says that fear itself is innate, we are socially conditioned as to what/how/when we fear. And if our fear becomes disordered and/or excessive, as it often is when we bathe in its waters daily, it can result in what he calls "shadow virtues". These 'virtues' are arising as we are losing the common ground and language with which to talk about morality, lacking a shared platform to exercise communal judgement. But we can appeal to our shared fear, and create a new ethic of safety that we all agree on. After all, who doesn't want to be safe?
Thus instead of talking about, for example, sex in the context of belonging to marriage as a gift from God (you've all heard this song, you can fill in the rest), we discourage premarital sex because of the health/pregnancy risks. Thus a moral decision now has little to do with holiness or goodness, and everything to do with safety. "We are more likely to tell our children 'be careful' than 'be good.'" (31)
But going back to the 'shadow virtues' that develop in a culture of fear. Bader-Saye identifies three: Suspicion, Preemption and Accumulation.
Suspicion assumes that we are (nearly) always at some kind of risk, and leads us to treat others as potential threats rather than our neighbor (in the Jesus-ian sense. Is that a word? Can it be?) It's easy to see this on the individual level, as most of us feel a little jumpy sometimes (also see the upturn in knife violence among teens in London this year. Scary.), but it also takes place at a policy level. One example he gives is how each foreign visitor to the US is now required to have a photo taken and be fingerprinted. A practice we often associate with what? Suspects in a police station. I'm not (and he's not) saying it's ineffective, but the roots of policy like this are problematic. (See the contrast with Leviticus 19:33-34)
Secondly, the 'virtue' of preemption: fight or flight. Get out of the way or strike before the other guy gets a chance. Again, you don't have to read long into W's National Security Strategy (check out the second bullet point) to see this virtue at the national level, nor far into the headlines about the war in Iraq to see some of the cost. He contrasts preemptive flight and fight, observing that flight is "characterized by our own lost opportunities and possibilities", while fight "jeopardizes the opportunities and possibilities for others." (33)
Finally, accumulation of wealth. We save for a rainy day, save because social security is going away by the time we need it, save because we might get sick, save so we can ______. While I would definitely advocate for wise financial planning and good stewardship, it might be worth taking a moment and examining the motives. What are we trusting?
Okay, that's it. Next week: Why Fearlessness is a Bad Idea.
Celebrating parents makes me feel like a kid, so here's a Father's Day acrostic for you:
Doggedly determined, daring to do what is right
Amply adventurous, always ready for fun
Dashingly debonnaire, dripping with charm
Dad, I love you and wish I could be with you today!
The Washington Post has an interesting essay by C.Welton Gaddy offering his take on the South Carolina decision to offer license plates with an image of the cross on them.
This paragraph pretty much sums up my view, as well:
Does not the government have other work to do that is more important and appropriate to its functions? Given the mortgage crisis, an economy teetering on the edge of inflation, joblessness, the status of public education, it boggles the mind that any legislature would debate crosses on a license plate.
What do y'all think: would you get one of these? Do you think they should be offered? What would you think if it was an Islamic motif? Or are you Switzerland on the subject?
Barack Obama is fighting back. He's launched a new website, FightTheSmears.com, to combat the rumors spreading like wildfire on the internet accusing him of everything from being a Muslim to refusing to say the pledge of allegiance. Videos and photos offer solid evidence.
So I'll start with, appropriately, the first chapter. Titled Fear for Profit, it sets up the book by outlining how fear is in many ways the air we breathe. (One caveat - Bader-Saye is from North America and is drawing on North American culture. It may not generalize globally, but I suspect that most points would ring true) Our cultural identity is sometimes built around being consumers, and since fear often drives consumption, we have become masters at manipulating it. He points to a couple of major areas that this takes place:
First, parenting. Drawing upon his experience of fatherhood, he points out the ways in which fear can become overwhelming. From choosing the type of birth (hospital? home? natural? meds?) to baby proofing the house (spawning a billion dollar child safety industry) to choosing a parenting method (consult one of the hundreds of books written by experts contradicting each other), it becomes easy to to spend more time "think[ing] about what we want to prevent and avoid rather than what we want to encourage and develop." (14) The lack of cultural consensus about standards and norms confuses the issue even more - "it's not even that we don't know if we're 'getting it right', it's that we don't even know what 'right' would look like." (13) Honestly, I know several people who have opted to not even have children simply because it all seems like too much. And I can't say I blame them!
Then he moves into the broad area of media and marketing. We all know that we will see millions of commercials over our lifetimes, most of them instilling fear that without x product we are doomed to being sexless, ugly, and lonely. It's a fairly obvious ploy, and one that is much discussed. Perhaps less discussed is the way that TV and news increase our fearfulness. News programs need advertising dollars, so they air the most sensational and shocking news stories to generate ratings. A quick glance online shows rape, murder, new toxic substances/health dangers, economic crisis, etc. topping the headlines on all the major networks. Witnessing so much brutality both on the news and scripted programming (see: Dexter, 24, the many crime procedurals, etc.), we start to believe that the world is a more dangerous place than it actually is. In fact, "in the 1990's crime rates were dropping while 2/3 of Americans believed they were rising." (15) Our fears no longer correspond to our actual risk levels.
Thirdly, there is politics. In a post 9/11 world, we are all too aware of our potential vulnerability, and will go to fairly extreme means to ensure our safety. Politicians capitalize on this in their rhetoric (by the way - I've only caught the headlines so far this election cycle, how are the political ads? I'm curious...). We also tend to be more suspicious of our neighbors, especially neighbors who aren't just like us. Makes it difficult to practice loving them.
Finally, he puts the spotlight on the church, and its tendency to manipulate fear from the pulpit. Could be fear of hell, fear of science, fear of loss, or whatever. Less direct than the old fashioned fear of the sword method, but I still find fear as a driving force of spirituality problematic. At least this kind of fear.
So that's all for this chapter, and I think he's laid the problem out well. Next week? Fear and the Moral Life.
Stay Tuned. Or else.
For those of you who don't know yet, this is to be my final term at L'Abri. I'll be leaving to head back to the Lone Star State, Houston to be precise, and start working towards grad school. I'm planning to pursue a degree in social work, despite the horror stories I've heard from friends in the field. I'll (hopefully) be attending University of Houston, so that I can remain in the geographical vicinity of my family, which is growing* (my brother Josh recently wed the gorgeous and wonderful Anna), and I don't want to miss any (more) of it.
It will be more than difficult to leave this place that has changed my life so much, but I think, at least for the time being, it's time to bid adieu.
Just wanted to post a brief update about this major development in my life.
*Mom - I don't know anything you don't. No grandkids from any of your children are insinuated here... ;)
A post on the God's Politics blog Friday talks about seven senators (the "Coburn Seven") who are hard at work blocking the reauthorization of the Global AIDS, Malaria and Tuberculosis bill, which helps fund the fight against these diseases which account for more than 90% of infectious disease death. It's a post worth reading, and Sojourners has a form online that you can use to send a letter to your senators encouraging them support getting the bill passed.
A few days ago there was an article by David Brooks in the International Herald Tribune talking about what it means to mature, starting with the example of Lincoln and the model during his time that to be mature was to exercise self-control. A sin-centric model that changed over time to a model that emphasized our inner goodness, placing self-discovery as the goal of growing up. Now, according to Brooks, we are moving into a maturity defined by service - maturity as moving from being served to serving others.
I read this article to a group of students at my formal meal, and it was a really fascinating conversation. People described maturity as being accountable and responsible, cultivating virtues. We also talked about maturing requiring an end goal, and that goal must be virtuous, even if not explicitly Christian. We also talked about the external cultural markers of maturity (rituals or rites of passage), and some of the ramifications of having few if any of them in modern Western culture. Very cool stuff - we spend so much time talking about identity, but it seems as though very rarely we talk about maturity.
I'd be curious to hear anyone else's thoughts on it...
Pleased that finally it was gone, I then went to block my new projects. For the non-knitterly folks, that simply means soaking the project and pinning it out to dry into shape. I put it in its first bath, and it bled. And continued to bleed through the nearly 15 subsequent washes. I never could get the water to run clear. I laughed a lot, I cried a little, and I supposed that ultimately the story of this little ball of wool (Colinette Jitterbug, hence the title) had completed itself in the only way it could have.
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