When I was in college, I was a mediocre writer. I got a bit better over the years thanks in no small part to an excellent creative writing prof who frequently eviscerated my verbose poetry, but in a really nice, upper-Midwest way, with a smile on her face, until it stopped being overwrought brain dumps and started to be lean distillations of emotional experience.
In seminary, writing dullsville reports on the minutiae of evangelistic techniques and scrambling for essay topics that wouldn't put me or the grader to sleep, my writing got both better and worse. More technical, perhaps a bit more precise, but thudding and heavy.
When I started writing this blog, I went through phases. One week I'd toss out the same overwrought brain dumps I'd been carefully trained not to write, and the next obsess over word choice and syntax for hours before deleting the lot. Now, having been out of seminary for going on three years, not having had to write a paper for anyone's approval, not having deadlines and due dates looming, I've gotten sloppy. I want that taut academic precision back in my writing. I want to stop sounding like a cross between the Fug Girls and Ree Drummond, which, I fear, is the voice that's developed.
So, all that to say, I will probably be writing here quite a bit more than usual, because practice, as they say, makes perfect.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Stop It. Just Stop It.
OK, I have officially had enough.
Back in September, Tullian Tchividjian's church made the move to one service, from their previous format of one "traditional" and one "contemporary" service. He wrote an initial post about their kickoff week and a little of the background behind their decision. At the end of the post, what he didn't write but might as well have was "Cue Psalms-only, Western-musical-tradition-obsessed, Regulative Principal types: pontificate away, fellas."
Here are just a few of the many comments that made me want to throw stuff at my computer:
Can we please just take a second (after we've all picked our jaws up off the floor) to evaluate the assumptions behind these claims?
1. Modern styled music is something to be dreaded, avoided, and pushed back.
2. The choice of music and style is primarily about my felt needs (oh, the irony).
3. Our only choices are the lovely, rich, comforting old hymns and an overwrought seeker-sensitive rock concert style (complete with "moaning and twitching"?!?).
4. If a long-standing traditional style is denigrated or underappreciated, that's a theological issue akin to people's rejection of the Gospel.
5. The culture is changing, so we have to reject change by holding our ground with traditional styles of music.
6. Anything other than a Western classical style represents "dumbing down" of worship.
7. The goal of modern styles of music is that we won't be challenged by worship.
Seriously, people. Stop it. Stop making arguments against your brothers and sisters in Christ based entirely on logical fallacies.* Stop claiming some special knowledge about how public worship gatherings are supposed to look. Stop insisting that Western classical musical from 400 to 150 years ago is the pinnacle of all human achievement. It's not just silly, it's xenophobic and exclusionary. (Notice that I didn't say that using Western classical music, or even preferring it, is xenophobic and exclusionary -- insisting on its superiority [even its spiritual superiority] over all other types of music is.)
We sing theologically rich songs at Sojourn, songs that are full of Scriptural truth. We often sing hymns -- in fact, I would guess that a majority of our songs have a hymn structure (i.e., a particular meter in each verse). Four of the five songs we did this past week were hymns. Two were traditional hymns, two were written more recently. One of the modern hymns was based on a Puritan prayer from the outstanding Valley of Vision. We sing a fair number of Psalms (I can think of a dozen or so) and are always up for singing more. Why, then, do people continue to insist that, because we use guitars and drums, we're contributing to theological shallowness in the church?
Church music ministers need to be students of their culture and their congregation as well as of the Scriptures. And, furthermore, it's absolutely possible to obey the commands of the Scriptures without having to use only piano and organ or orchestral arrangements or Western classical style (thank God -- if not, boy, would overseas missionaries be in trouble). It's even possible to adhere to the Regulative Principle and still -- gasp! -- use guitars. Maybe piano, organ, and classical style are what's best for your particular congregation. But why then does everyone else have to agree that it's better?
If we want to talk about what styles of music best carry theological content in a coherent way, I'm happy to have that conversation (and no, I don't think all musical styles are equally suited for public worship, just on a practical level, but I also think that particular knife cuts both ways). If we want to talk about reverence and decency, I'm up for that too. Attitudes toward our collective history? Yeah, definitely, let's talk about that.
But if folks are going to approach this conversation with an attitude of snobbery towards everyone who doesn't have their "special knowledge" about the superiority of the Western classical tradition, a traditional hymnnodic structure, and the Fill-In-The-Blank Psalter... Well, I'll just turn off my computer and have a little chat with the doorknob instead, thanks. ;-)
*In that list, you'll see a false dilemma (either good thing A or hideously unimaginable thing B must be true), a package deal fallacy (modern music goes together with shallow content and theological inferiority, therefore if you use modern music you're embracing shallow content and theological inferiority), an appeal to fear (this thing is so dreadful that I hope Jesus comes back before it happens, an appeal to emotion (hymns are comforting; if you want to get rid of hymns you are getting rid of my comfort waaaaaaah), cherrypicking (here is the worst example of how churches can do this, never mind all the good examples), confirmation bias (I believe it will be like X, therefore I will experience as X), tons of bare assertion fallacy (NO IT'S THIS WAY DON'T ARGUE IT IS SO!), and plenty of equivocation (what exactly do these folks mean by "traditional" or "classical" or "hymns" or "contemporary" or "modern"?).
Back in September, Tullian Tchividjian's church made the move to one service, from their previous format of one "traditional" and one "contemporary" service. He wrote an initial post about their kickoff week and a little of the background behind their decision. At the end of the post, what he didn't write but might as well have was "Cue Psalms-only, Western-musical-tradition-obsessed, Regulative Principal types: pontificate away, fellas."
Here are just a few of the many comments that made me want to throw stuff at my computer:
I foresee a time, probably when the current minister of music retires, when the two services will be blended. My hope is that Jesus will return before that happens.
Even the best expressions of blended worship represent a level of compromise
I’m having difficulty understanding why churches insist on dumbing down something intended primarily for God so that we aren’t challenged by it.
Granted, classical music is not as appreciated in today’s society as it has been in the past, but then again, neither is the Gospel.
Hymns like “A Mighty Fortress” and “O God Our Help in Ages Past” ministered to me and soothed the hurt I felt inside. Trading all that for the moaning and twitching of contemporary worship, the loud praise band and flashing lights, is a thought too horrific to contemplate.
Can we please just take a second (after we've all picked our jaws up off the floor) to evaluate the assumptions behind these claims?
1. Modern styled music is something to be dreaded, avoided, and pushed back.
2. The choice of music and style is primarily about my felt needs (oh, the irony).
3. Our only choices are the lovely, rich, comforting old hymns and an overwrought seeker-sensitive rock concert style (complete with "moaning and twitching"?!?).
4. If a long-standing traditional style is denigrated or underappreciated, that's a theological issue akin to people's rejection of the Gospel.
5. The culture is changing, so we have to reject change by holding our ground with traditional styles of music.
6. Anything other than a Western classical style represents "dumbing down" of worship.
7. The goal of modern styles of music is that we won't be challenged by worship.
Seriously, people. Stop it. Stop making arguments against your brothers and sisters in Christ based entirely on logical fallacies.* Stop claiming some special knowledge about how public worship gatherings are supposed to look. Stop insisting that Western classical musical from 400 to 150 years ago is the pinnacle of all human achievement. It's not just silly, it's xenophobic and exclusionary. (Notice that I didn't say that using Western classical music, or even preferring it, is xenophobic and exclusionary -- insisting on its superiority [even its spiritual superiority] over all other types of music is.)
We sing theologically rich songs at Sojourn, songs that are full of Scriptural truth. We often sing hymns -- in fact, I would guess that a majority of our songs have a hymn structure (i.e., a particular meter in each verse). Four of the five songs we did this past week were hymns. Two were traditional hymns, two were written more recently. One of the modern hymns was based on a Puritan prayer from the outstanding Valley of Vision. We sing a fair number of Psalms (I can think of a dozen or so) and are always up for singing more. Why, then, do people continue to insist that, because we use guitars and drums, we're contributing to theological shallowness in the church?
Church music ministers need to be students of their culture and their congregation as well as of the Scriptures. And, furthermore, it's absolutely possible to obey the commands of the Scriptures without having to use only piano and organ or orchestral arrangements or Western classical style (thank God -- if not, boy, would overseas missionaries be in trouble). It's even possible to adhere to the Regulative Principle and still -- gasp! -- use guitars. Maybe piano, organ, and classical style are what's best for your particular congregation. But why then does everyone else have to agree that it's better?
If we want to talk about what styles of music best carry theological content in a coherent way, I'm happy to have that conversation (and no, I don't think all musical styles are equally suited for public worship, just on a practical level, but I also think that particular knife cuts both ways). If we want to talk about reverence and decency, I'm up for that too. Attitudes toward our collective history? Yeah, definitely, let's talk about that.
But if folks are going to approach this conversation with an attitude of snobbery towards everyone who doesn't have their "special knowledge" about the superiority of the Western classical tradition, a traditional hymnnodic structure, and the Fill-In-The-Blank Psalter... Well, I'll just turn off my computer and have a little chat with the doorknob instead, thanks. ;-)
*In that list, you'll see a false dilemma (either good thing A or hideously unimaginable thing B must be true), a package deal fallacy (modern music goes together with shallow content and theological inferiority, therefore if you use modern music you're embracing shallow content and theological inferiority), an appeal to fear (this thing is so dreadful that I hope Jesus comes back before it happens, an appeal to emotion (hymns are comforting; if you want to get rid of hymns you are getting rid of my comfort waaaaaaah), cherrypicking (here is the worst example of how churches can do this, never mind all the good examples), confirmation bias (I believe it will be like X, therefore I will experience as X), tons of bare assertion fallacy (NO IT'S THIS WAY DON'T ARGUE IT IS SO!), and plenty of equivocation (what exactly do these folks mean by "traditional" or "classical" or "hymns" or "contemporary" or "modern"?).
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification, Part Three
In my last post I mentioned that we really struggle to give single people a big vision for God's work of sanctification in their lives. I was going to go on to say that it's essential that we do more to help single people really ground their identity in Christ rather than success at work, or being liked, or whatever, but then it occurred to me that that's a desperate need for everyone in the church.
I've talked to many married folks, especially women, about "the moment" when they realized that this person they were married to was never meant to give them their identity. For some people, that's the end of their marriage. For others, it's the beginning of a long and difficult journey of finding their identity in Christ and resting there.
I've also had plenty of conversations with single folks (um... including myself) about the identity crisis of not having a spouse, of feeling valueless and adrift without this supposed anchor of marriage. It's daily implied to us that marriage is not simply a good and worthy state, but one that defines us as, and makes us, mature. (Think I'm overstating my case? Name one unmarried ministry leader at your church. Or consider what percentage of your congregation is single vs. what percentage of the leadership. Now, I know... correlation and causation. But it's something to think about.)
Who am I because of my job? Who am I because of my marital status? Who am I because of who I'm attracted to? Who am I because of my income? Who am I because of where I live? Who am I because of my politics, or my eschatology, or my taste in music, or the food I eat or the education I have or the clothes I buy? All those things, to the Christian, must take second place to the question, "Who am I in Christ?"
And if we spent the rest of our lives trying to work that out... Well, that would be ok.
I've talked to many married folks, especially women, about "the moment" when they realized that this person they were married to was never meant to give them their identity. For some people, that's the end of their marriage. For others, it's the beginning of a long and difficult journey of finding their identity in Christ and resting there.
I've also had plenty of conversations with single folks (um... including myself) about the identity crisis of not having a spouse, of feeling valueless and adrift without this supposed anchor of marriage. It's daily implied to us that marriage is not simply a good and worthy state, but one that defines us as, and makes us, mature. (Think I'm overstating my case? Name one unmarried ministry leader at your church. Or consider what percentage of your congregation is single vs. what percentage of the leadership. Now, I know... correlation and causation. But it's something to think about.)
Who am I because of my job? Who am I because of my marital status? Who am I because of who I'm attracted to? Who am I because of my income? Who am I because of where I live? Who am I because of my politics, or my eschatology, or my taste in music, or the food I eat or the education I have or the clothes I buy? All those things, to the Christian, must take second place to the question, "Who am I in Christ?"
And if we spent the rest of our lives trying to work that out... Well, that would be ok.
Monday, November 22, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification, Part 2
So, I wrote the last post to sort of point out the problem of our unbalanced understanding of singleness and sanctification. In this one, I'd like to think through what a solid, biblical view of singleness and sanctification looks like.
I think, first of all, that it's not just about "patience." We get told this a lot -- that we're so blessed to be learning patience, learning to "wait on the Lord" as we're single.
I think it IS a lot about... just life. Married folks and parents especially get all kinds of advice about how to turn everyday stuff into an opportunity for sanctification. Messy husband? It's a chance to love him sacrificially by just picking up the stupid sock and not nagging him about it. Hate folding laundry? It's a chance to pray for your family, one stained onesie at a time. Frustrated by the neverending cycle of strife between your kids? Just think of how God feels when we continually rebel against him!
Too often, we only address the external, apparent frustrations of the single person (loneliness, desire for marriage) without just dealing with their everyday circumstances, so we end up giving them the same prescription for sanctification. Be patient. Rely on God. Both great, but just not enough, and definitely not specific enough. I definitely need sanctification in those areas, but not only those areas.
In my life, for example, my biggest sources of sanctification are my students and hosting community group. I'm constantly confronted with my own pride, laziness, and selfishness at work. At home, I constantly fail to live up to my God-given task of home-keeping, making my little domain a place of peace and welcome for whoever God sends.
But not only do we fail to give specific, life-focused counsel to single people, we also fail to give them a big picture. Ultimately, God's purpose for me and God's purpose for my married friends is identical: that we would be more like Jesus. And we do married people and single people a great disservice by overemphasizing their dissimilarities and under-emphasizing their similarities. My best friend, who's married, needs to remember the Gospel just like I do. She needs to be made more like Jesus just like I do. She needs to respond to God's grace by striving to live a life of excellence, purity, generosity, wisdom, perseverance, and self-control, just like I do. She needs to joyfully submit to those whom God has made her leaders, just like I do.
The external circumstances whereby she is reminded of the Gospel might be different, or they might not. The trials that refine and strengthen her faith might be different than mine, or they might not. But the final outcome is that God, who has promised to complete the work he begins in his people, will make her, and me, and every other believer, more like Jesus.
I think, first of all, that it's not just about "patience." We get told this a lot -- that we're so blessed to be learning patience, learning to "wait on the Lord" as we're single.
I think it IS a lot about... just life. Married folks and parents especially get all kinds of advice about how to turn everyday stuff into an opportunity for sanctification. Messy husband? It's a chance to love him sacrificially by just picking up the stupid sock and not nagging him about it. Hate folding laundry? It's a chance to pray for your family, one stained onesie at a time. Frustrated by the neverending cycle of strife between your kids? Just think of how God feels when we continually rebel against him!
Too often, we only address the external, apparent frustrations of the single person (loneliness, desire for marriage) without just dealing with their everyday circumstances, so we end up giving them the same prescription for sanctification. Be patient. Rely on God. Both great, but just not enough, and definitely not specific enough. I definitely need sanctification in those areas, but not only those areas.
In my life, for example, my biggest sources of sanctification are my students and hosting community group. I'm constantly confronted with my own pride, laziness, and selfishness at work. At home, I constantly fail to live up to my God-given task of home-keeping, making my little domain a place of peace and welcome for whoever God sends.
But not only do we fail to give specific, life-focused counsel to single people, we also fail to give them a big picture. Ultimately, God's purpose for me and God's purpose for my married friends is identical: that we would be more like Jesus. And we do married people and single people a great disservice by overemphasizing their dissimilarities and under-emphasizing their similarities. My best friend, who's married, needs to remember the Gospel just like I do. She needs to be made more like Jesus just like I do. She needs to respond to God's grace by striving to live a life of excellence, purity, generosity, wisdom, perseverance, and self-control, just like I do. She needs to joyfully submit to those whom God has made her leaders, just like I do.
The external circumstances whereby she is reminded of the Gospel might be different, or they might not. The trials that refine and strengthen her faith might be different than mine, or they might not. But the final outcome is that God, who has promised to complete the work he begins in his people, will make her, and me, and every other believer, more like Jesus.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
A Thought Or Two On Singleness And Sanctification
My sweet, encouraging sister-in-law and I had a really good conversation last week, in which she said something I don't think I've ever heard a married person say, at least not quite in that way. She actually told me that singleness was sanctifying me, not just in one area, that of patience, but in my whole life as a Christian. Single folks don't really hear that a lot. Sojourn does a better job at addressing this than many churches, but I imagine it's tough to work in a lot of exhortations to singles, especially single women, when you're a married guy like all our elders are. So this isn't a post where I call people out and tell them to get on the ball or anything. It's just thoughts. Thoughts: I has them.
As is typical for me, I'm finding it helpful lately to see the whole concept of how we talk about sanctification as single people on a continuum, with error at each end, and a range of orthodoxy in the middle.
So: at one end, you've got the idea that singleness is a less-than-ideal circumstance for sanctification, and that marriage is not just normal but normative. Few people actually teach this (although... I can tell you from experience, they're out there). But a lot more people sort of accidentally teach it, or at least imply it. The error here is reading the Scriptures and seeing marriage described as sort of socially and culturally normal, as well as good, and that probably most people described in any detail in the Scriptures are married, and drawing from that something that's normative. It's a common interpretive problem, confusing descriptive and prescriptive aspects of Scripture. Plus, marriage "has a verse on it" as we say in the South, the lovely and oft-read-at-weddings passage about the mystery of marriage referring to Christ and the Church. We seem to think that means that singleness is just one tiny step down from marriage, because singleness doesn't have a verse about Christ and the Church attached to it.
Here's where you get marriage just hammered on from the pulpit, and talked up, and praised, and presented as the furnace of sanctification, without any notion that we're failing to give people a vision of what godly celibacy (which, in case we've forgotten, is our eternal future state) looks like. Instead we're telling people to direct all their energies toward something that's temporary, and discouraging single people from pursuing sanctification because we're implying that it all will just happen automatically and effortlessly once they get married and start having kids (insert collective snort of disgust from all my married readers).
(Incidentally, and just as a little side rant: why are we ok with denigrating the lives and experiences of single people by constantly saying that marriage/child-rearing is "harder" than singleness? I'm positive that it's harder in some areas, and it's definitely a different kind of hard, but, married folks, please. Stop telling us that we've got it easy. /rant.)
At the other end of the spectrum is a view that's totally foreign to us Protestants, that celibate service is spiritual and, in fact, that married folks (basically, in most cases) disqualify themselves from vocational ministry. We can't get our brains around this. So because we can't get our brains around it, we mostly don't provide a path for celibate service, and we retreat all the way to the other end of the spectrum.
As is typical for me, I'm finding it helpful lately to see the whole concept of how we talk about sanctification as single people on a continuum, with error at each end, and a range of orthodoxy in the middle.
So: at one end, you've got the idea that singleness is a less-than-ideal circumstance for sanctification, and that marriage is not just normal but normative. Few people actually teach this (although... I can tell you from experience, they're out there). But a lot more people sort of accidentally teach it, or at least imply it. The error here is reading the Scriptures and seeing marriage described as sort of socially and culturally normal, as well as good, and that probably most people described in any detail in the Scriptures are married, and drawing from that something that's normative. It's a common interpretive problem, confusing descriptive and prescriptive aspects of Scripture. Plus, marriage "has a verse on it" as we say in the South, the lovely and oft-read-at-weddings passage about the mystery of marriage referring to Christ and the Church. We seem to think that means that singleness is just one tiny step down from marriage, because singleness doesn't have a verse about Christ and the Church attached to it.
Here's where you get marriage just hammered on from the pulpit, and talked up, and praised, and presented as the furnace of sanctification, without any notion that we're failing to give people a vision of what godly celibacy (which, in case we've forgotten, is our eternal future state) looks like. Instead we're telling people to direct all their energies toward something that's temporary, and discouraging single people from pursuing sanctification because we're implying that it all will just happen automatically and effortlessly once they get married and start having kids (insert collective snort of disgust from all my married readers).
(Incidentally, and just as a little side rant: why are we ok with denigrating the lives and experiences of single people by constantly saying that marriage/child-rearing is "harder" than singleness? I'm positive that it's harder in some areas, and it's definitely a different kind of hard, but, married folks, please. Stop telling us that we've got it easy. /rant.)
At the other end of the spectrum is a view that's totally foreign to us Protestants, that celibate service is spiritual and, in fact, that married folks (basically, in most cases) disqualify themselves from vocational ministry. We can't get our brains around this. So because we can't get our brains around it, we mostly don't provide a path for celibate service, and we retreat all the way to the other end of the spectrum.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Whate'er My God Ordains Is Right
It's a rare song that contains both well-crafted poetry and beautifully-presented truth. These lyrics are worthy of your full attention, friends, and I encourage you to read them carefully and rejoice in God whose mysterious will works out for our good!
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.
-- Samuel Rodigast, 1676
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.
Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all.
-- Samuel Rodigast, 1676
Monday, November 15, 2010
Alienating Verbal Tics
Just thinking of these last night. They tend to disconnect people from the conversation. Can you think of any others?
Habitually starting sentences with "No," or "No way," even when you're agreeing or the sentence isn't subject to agreement or disagreement.
"Shut up," when said as, "You're kidding!" This one's tough for me.
Saying, "You have no idea," or "You don't even know." This one is particularly bad. It's mostly intended as something like, "The situation I'm referring to was really bad/good," but it comes across as, "I have experiences you could never dream about." Makes you sound super arrogant.
Habitually starting sentences with "No," or "No way," even when you're agreeing or the sentence isn't subject to agreement or disagreement.
"Shut up," when said as, "You're kidding!" This one's tough for me.
Saying, "You have no idea," or "You don't even know." This one is particularly bad. It's mostly intended as something like, "The situation I'm referring to was really bad/good," but it comes across as, "I have experiences you could never dream about." Makes you sound super arrogant.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
School.
Among American Christians, choosing where (or IF) to send your kids to school has become this almost comically fraught decision of unparalleled theological significance. If you listen to certain folks, your children's eventual salvation basically hinges on making the right choice in this area (the huge number of publicly educated Christian adults, yours truly included, notwithstanding).
You've got a small but vocal group of Christians loudly decrying "government indoctrination facilities," people saying you don't care about the poor if you pull your kids out of public schools, anti-homeschooling blogs dedicated to making parents feel incompetent and irresponsible for daring to think they can educate their own children, Christian schools of every stripe, from Montessoris to classical schools and from public school look-alikes to ultra-rigorous mini-seminaries... all of them clamoring for parents' attention. How are we supposed to see through the confused haze of claims and caveats? Here's my little tidbit of advice as a teacher at a fantastic private school who doesn't actually really care all that much about how you educate your own children ;).
1. Chill out. Is your child's education important? Definitely. Is it THE MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DOING IT WROOOOOOONNNG ? Um, no.
2. Remember that your identity, your hope, your salvation are in Christ, not in subscribing to a particular educational methodology, not in being "right," not in trying to create an ideal situation.
3. Then sit down, write out a pros and cons list, and make the best decision for your family. There's no need to wait for a sign or to feel God "releasing" you to do X, Y, or Z or to "have peace" about it. Your life, Christian, is spiritual. You have the Holy Spirit actually dwelling in you to guide your steps. You have a sovereign, good, and gracious Father who knows the end from the beginning and whose plans are for your good and His glory. You have a faithful Savior interceding on your behalf before God. You have nothing to worry about. Work, because God is already at work.
Just my two (or maybe four) cents.
You've got a small but vocal group of Christians loudly decrying "government indoctrination facilities," people saying you don't care about the poor if you pull your kids out of public schools, anti-homeschooling blogs dedicated to making parents feel incompetent and irresponsible for daring to think they can educate their own children, Christian schools of every stripe, from Montessoris to classical schools and from public school look-alikes to ultra-rigorous mini-seminaries... all of them clamoring for parents' attention. How are we supposed to see through the confused haze of claims and caveats? Here's my little tidbit of advice as a teacher at a fantastic private school who doesn't actually really care all that much about how you educate your own children ;).
1. Chill out. Is your child's education important? Definitely. Is it THE MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DOING IT WROOOOOOONNNG ? Um, no.
2. Remember that your identity, your hope, your salvation are in Christ, not in subscribing to a particular educational methodology, not in being "right," not in trying to create an ideal situation.
3. Then sit down, write out a pros and cons list, and make the best decision for your family. There's no need to wait for a sign or to feel God "releasing" you to do X, Y, or Z or to "have peace" about it. Your life, Christian, is spiritual. You have the Holy Spirit actually dwelling in you to guide your steps. You have a sovereign, good, and gracious Father who knows the end from the beginning and whose plans are for your good and His glory. You have a faithful Savior interceding on your behalf before God. You have nothing to worry about. Work, because God is already at work.
Just my two (or maybe four) cents.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Stereotypes
Quick, picture a stereotypical Twilight fan. Now picture a stereotypical unemployed 20-something. Now a megachurch pastor. A ruthless CEO. An overworked stay-at-home mom.
Chances are, you and I had similar pictures in our heads. A weepy-eyed fangirl writing fan fiction in her Team Jacob shirt. An unshaven slacker sitting in his mom's basement playing Starcraft at two in the morning. Joel Osteen. Gordon Gecko. This poor woman.
These pictures, the ones that sort of exist in our collective cultural consciousness, are tools that good writers and speakers use as a point of connection with the reader or listener. In other words, sometimes, stereotypes are good.
Chances are, you and I had similar pictures in our heads. A weepy-eyed fangirl writing fan fiction in her Team Jacob shirt. An unshaven slacker sitting in his mom's basement playing Starcraft at two in the morning. Joel Osteen. Gordon Gecko. This poor woman.
These pictures, the ones that sort of exist in our collective cultural consciousness, are tools that good writers and speakers use as a point of connection with the reader or listener. In other words, sometimes, stereotypes are good.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
A Weird Culture Thing
I know, that's probably the most descriptive title ever, right? I was bumming around a friend-of-a-friend's blog yesterday and came across something that really got my blood pressure pumping. The guy happens to be Australian, and he released the freakin' hounds on a famous American preacher for what was, to my mind, a series of totally boring and ordinary Facebook posts talking about his schedule, family life, marriage, etc. But in thinking about it last night I remembered that there's a weird culture thing (there's that brilliant phrase again) between Americans and Aussies that we often don't recognize and that very often causes problems between us.
What is this Weird Culture Thing? I'm so glad you asked. (Attention: broad cultural stereotypes ahead.)
Americans are, very generally, a positive people -- I'm thinking of that sort of midwestern, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, self-reliant, I'll get by, buck up attitude. I mean, there's a whole sub-genre of American folk/popular music dedicated to getting people to cheer up and have a positive outlook on life ("Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" "Put on a Happy Face" "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile," "The Sunny Side of the Street," etc.) -- much of which was written during the Great Depression, a period with an incalculable impact on the collective American psyche. I like this attitude, generally; I think it shows resilience and optimism. But there's a dark side to it as well, what we might call the Joel Osteen or Pollyanna side, that closes its eyes to the impending storm and brags about how wonderful life is.
Aussies, in my experience, often don't get that, for most Americans, this positivity is a totally natural cultural thing, ingrained in us since infancy, not a boastful put-on, not a fake-out, not an effort to belittle anyone else. Because, generally, in my observation, Aussies are humble, hard-working people who just want to give everyone a fair shot, get on with it, and not call attention to themselves. So they see what we think of as cheerfulness and positivity -- or just stating facts -- and read it as Pollyanna-ishness or bragging or putting others down, and feel the need to address it (just like we would want to address something we saw as major arrogance)
But unfortunately, the kind of forthrightness that your average Aussie values, unmixed with flattery, is going to come across to your average American as presumptuous and rude instead of like a much-needed dose of reality. So that gets our defenses up, and we write you off as a mean old crank, and then you write us off as xenophobic and isolationist, and then our suspicions are confirmed that Americans are the only nice people in the world (and we value "nice" a LOT), and then your suspicions are confirmed that Americans don't understand or care about anyone but themselves, and then...
See? A Weird Culture Thing.
What is this Weird Culture Thing? I'm so glad you asked. (Attention: broad cultural stereotypes ahead.)
Americans are, very generally, a positive people -- I'm thinking of that sort of midwestern, pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, self-reliant, I'll get by, buck up attitude. I mean, there's a whole sub-genre of American folk/popular music dedicated to getting people to cheer up and have a positive outlook on life ("Smile, Darn Ya, Smile" "Put on a Happy Face" "You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile," "The Sunny Side of the Street," etc.) -- much of which was written during the Great Depression, a period with an incalculable impact on the collective American psyche. I like this attitude, generally; I think it shows resilience and optimism. But there's a dark side to it as well, what we might call the Joel Osteen or Pollyanna side, that closes its eyes to the impending storm and brags about how wonderful life is.
Aussies, in my experience, often don't get that, for most Americans, this positivity is a totally natural cultural thing, ingrained in us since infancy, not a boastful put-on, not a fake-out, not an effort to belittle anyone else. Because, generally, in my observation, Aussies are humble, hard-working people who just want to give everyone a fair shot, get on with it, and not call attention to themselves. So they see what we think of as cheerfulness and positivity -- or just stating facts -- and read it as Pollyanna-ishness or bragging or putting others down, and feel the need to address it (just like we would want to address something we saw as major arrogance)
But unfortunately, the kind of forthrightness that your average Aussie values, unmixed with flattery, is going to come across to your average American as presumptuous and rude instead of like a much-needed dose of reality. So that gets our defenses up, and we write you off as a mean old crank, and then you write us off as xenophobic and isolationist, and then our suspicions are confirmed that Americans are the only nice people in the world (and we value "nice" a LOT), and then your suspicions are confirmed that Americans don't understand or care about anyone but themselves, and then...
See? A Weird Culture Thing.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
In Case You Were Wondering Where That Howl Of Fury and Protest Was Coming From...
It was me. When I read this article.
What a load of utter, middle-class-guilt assuaging, white man's burden, condescending, collectivist, furrowed brow, think-of-the-little-people nonsense.
First, why is it my business to raise other people's kids? Help them, yes. Care for them, absolutely. As a Christian, reach into their problems? For sure. But consider them FIRST, over my own doggone (hypothetical, future) children? That gets a big HECK NO.
Second, why do I get to choose between 1) hurting those poor poor children, you arrogant and probably racist jerk, and 2) helping those poor poor children by sending my smarter, richer, happier, more psychologically balanced offspring (oh, the irony) to whatever public school my municipality in its infinite wisdom decides to shuttle them off to? That, boys and girls, is called a false dilemma. With just a leetle dash of straw man thrown in.
Just imagine with me for a moment that there could be -- miracle of miracles -- something like... wait for it... a third option! What? More than two options? No way, man, we're American, we can't give people more than two options! Not in public discourse! Hahahaha...
What a load of utter, middle-class-guilt assuaging, white man's burden, condescending, collectivist, furrowed brow, think-of-the-little-people nonsense.
First, why is it my business to raise other people's kids? Help them, yes. Care for them, absolutely. As a Christian, reach into their problems? For sure. But consider them FIRST, over my own doggone (hypothetical, future) children? That gets a big HECK NO.
Second, why do I get to choose between 1) hurting those poor poor children, you arrogant and probably racist jerk, and 2) helping those poor poor children by sending my smarter, richer, happier, more psychologically balanced offspring (oh, the irony) to whatever public school my municipality in its infinite wisdom decides to shuttle them off to? That, boys and girls, is called a false dilemma. With just a leetle dash of straw man thrown in.
Just imagine with me for a moment that there could be -- miracle of miracles -- something like... wait for it... a third option! What? More than two options? No way, man, we're American, we can't give people more than two options! Not in public discourse! Hahahaha...
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Son of God Goes Forth To War
I just recently was introduced to this song at Community Presbyterian Church's Reformation Day feast. I had to quit singing because I was choking back tears. The subject of martyrdom is SERIOUSLY under-sung in our churches, people. This one deserves a more regular spot in our rotation.
Get yer Kleenex out before you read this. Just sayin.
The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar!
Who follows in His train?
Who best can drink His cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain,
Who patient bears his cross below --
He follows in His train.
The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky
And called on Him to save.
Like Him, with pardon on His tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them that did the wrong!
Who follows in His train?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came,
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
The lion's gory mane;
They bowed their necks the death to feel:
Who follows in their train?
A noble army, men and boys,
The matron and the maid,
Around the Savior's throne rejoice
In robes of light arrayed.
They climbed the steep ascent of heav'n,
Through peril, toil and pain;
O God, to us may grace be giv'n
To follow in their train!
-- Reginald Heber, 1812
Get yer Kleenex out before you read this. Just sayin.
The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar!
Who follows in His train?
Who best can drink His cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain,
Who patient bears his cross below --
He follows in His train.
The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Master in the sky
And called on Him to save.
Like Him, with pardon on His tongue,
In midst of mortal pain,
He prayed for them that did the wrong!
Who follows in His train?
A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came,
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame.
They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
The lion's gory mane;
They bowed their necks the death to feel:
Who follows in their train?
A noble army, men and boys,
The matron and the maid,
Around the Savior's throne rejoice
In robes of light arrayed.
They climbed the steep ascent of heav'n,
Through peril, toil and pain;
O God, to us may grace be giv'n
To follow in their train!
-- Reginald Heber, 1812
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Chilling Out About Politics
Here's one of the major problems with the American political system. We measure a politician's pre-election success primarily by his ability to whip his listeners into an ecstasy of high-flown patriotic sentiment, to the point that we seem to vote for the most exciting candidate rather than the most qualified, or the one with the best ideas.
This is frustrating to me. Do we not understand that (soundbytes that elicit cheers from huge crowds) < (intelligent ideas skillfully presented by a qualified person)?
And here's where I love Jon Stewart, really: despite the fact that I largely don't agree with him about politics, I love that he's encouraging people to turn off the caps lock and stop trying to fit their entire political philosophy onto a t-shirt or a protest sign.
I think it's a good word for pretty much everyone, honestly. I'm not saying that you should cherish your political opinions with less fervor. I'm not saying you need to become more politically moderate. I'm just saying that, if the people you get your political news from make your blood pressure rise more than they make you think deeply and critically, you probably need to shut the TV off and read some Rousseau or something.
This is frustrating to me. Do we not understand that (soundbytes that elicit cheers from huge crowds) < (intelligent ideas skillfully presented by a qualified person)?
And here's where I love Jon Stewart, really: despite the fact that I largely don't agree with him about politics, I love that he's encouraging people to turn off the caps lock and stop trying to fit their entire political philosophy onto a t-shirt or a protest sign.
I think it's a good word for pretty much everyone, honestly. I'm not saying that you should cherish your political opinions with less fervor. I'm not saying you need to become more politically moderate. I'm just saying that, if the people you get your political news from make your blood pressure rise more than they make you think deeply and critically, you probably need to shut the TV off and read some Rousseau or something.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
What's Wrong With The World?
G.K. Chesterton, when the Times posed this question to him, famously responded, "I am."
Fortunately for us, he didn't stop there. He wrote a collection of short essays on a variety of topics, all addressing that question in one way or another. Check it out and add to your collection.
Fortunately for us, he didn't stop there. He wrote a collection of short essays on a variety of topics, all addressing that question in one way or another. Check it out and add to your collection.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
No, I'm Not a Traditionalist.
It ticks me off that people refuse to see the difference between Traditionalism and Biblical worldview. I kind of get it when we're talking about non-Christian folks. But they're not where the trouble lies.
The trouble is, we haven't been bothered to separate the two. We've been content to conflate the teachings of Scripture with Traditionalism, which is why people still think, among other things, that Christians hate women. Um, hello? Remember that guy Jesus chillin' with all the ladies, from the rich patroness to the prostitute? Remember how in the Gospels the eejits who don't get it are a bunch of dudes, and the clever interlocutor, some of the few left at the cross, the one who gets to the tomb first, are women?
We're ill-equipped to encounter that nonsense. We can't discern the absurd and wicked elements of Traditionalism because we think it's what we believe. We've been hornswoggled by our own equivocation.
Traditionalism sucks. Traditionalism sucks because it's an ideology that controls, that masters. But tradition, like most ideas, is an all right servant. Scorn for the past isn't my thing. It isn't God's thing. But idealizing the past, idolizing the past, that will get you nothing but 40 years of wandering in the desert while you pine for the good ol' days in Egypt, or 1955, or the Reagan years, or whatever.
We do it with politics too, we let some movement or institution or organization tell us what we believe, or at least what we can believe publicly. Oh, you're just like us because of whatever. Jump on board the tea party express, or the hope and change bandwagon. Christianity is a tool that political parties can wield. Right?
Knock it off. The Gospel is not a talking point to be hammered on, a political agenda, a social reconstruction plan. It's nothing to be co-opted and subsumed by a larger, another ideology. There is no larger, no other ideology for the Christian.
The trouble is, we haven't been bothered to separate the two. We've been content to conflate the teachings of Scripture with Traditionalism, which is why people still think, among other things, that Christians hate women. Um, hello? Remember that guy Jesus chillin' with all the ladies, from the rich patroness to the prostitute? Remember how in the Gospels the eejits who don't get it are a bunch of dudes, and the clever interlocutor, some of the few left at the cross, the one who gets to the tomb first, are women?
We're ill-equipped to encounter that nonsense. We can't discern the absurd and wicked elements of Traditionalism because we think it's what we believe. We've been hornswoggled by our own equivocation.
Traditionalism sucks. Traditionalism sucks because it's an ideology that controls, that masters. But tradition, like most ideas, is an all right servant. Scorn for the past isn't my thing. It isn't God's thing. But idealizing the past, idolizing the past, that will get you nothing but 40 years of wandering in the desert while you pine for the good ol' days in Egypt, or 1955, or the Reagan years, or whatever.
We do it with politics too, we let some movement or institution or organization tell us what we believe, or at least what we can believe publicly. Oh, you're just like us because of whatever. Jump on board the tea party express, or the hope and change bandwagon. Christianity is a tool that political parties can wield. Right?
Knock it off. The Gospel is not a talking point to be hammered on, a political agenda, a social reconstruction plan. It's nothing to be co-opted and subsumed by a larger, another ideology. There is no larger, no other ideology for the Christian.
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