Romantic Scribbles

Recently I attended the Exponential Conference.  The conference explored the state of Christian Church in the world in which we currently live, and personally it was an educational and challenging event.

Here are the top 3 things that have been rolling around in my head since the conference.

1. I am a coward.  Or Heresy in the Contemporary Church.

Several speakers talked about the flack they are getting from other Christians, from their own denominations, or from other Christian leaders because of their approach to Christianity.  Labeling certain individuals as heretics has come back into vogue, and seems a useful method for the religiously prominent to maintain their positions of power.

Erwin McManus spoke extensively regarding this.  Before coming to FSU I used to listen to his sermons pretty often, and while his approach may be unorthodox his doctrine never sounded questionable to me.  I don’t always agree with his position, but he certainly was not a heretic.  The fact that he may be receiving actual threats to his life, and that his family is receiving continuous grief from other ‘Christians’ because of his teaching seems patently absurd.  I am all for guarding your life and doctrine closely, but this seems to be something different.

The truth is I believe there are some questions that the Church needs to tackle, some questions we need to ask, but I know if I start asking them and genuinely wrestling with them certain portions of the Christian world will cut me off.  There are just some thoughts that you are not allowed to have, or not allowed to have and still maintain your good standing.  I have resisted asking these questions, because I have not been willing to give up my comfortable orthodox standing.

Simply put I am, at times, a coward.

2. The way to my heart is through my brain.  Or smart Christians are sexy.

I am tired of the sort of anti-intellectualism that is rampant in so much of American Christianity.  Ignorance isn’t cool, and the Church needs to stop pretending it is.  Therefore, when I find Christians who have done their homework and have thought deeply about both culture and Christianity I tend to be moved.

Enter Alan Hirsch. (You can find out more about what he is doing here.)  Hirsch is one of the leaders of the Missional approach to Christianity.  The basic point is that Christianity should be lived–that it is an active faith, not simply a cognitive exercise.  While his position was persuasive, what made a greater impact on me was the sense that this position came from deep, serious, and systematic thought.  It did not seem to be a fad, a gimmick, or the type of good idea you sometimes see that lacks the foundation to make it truly practicable.

For my own part it strengthened my conviction that if the Church is to have any influence in contemporary culture it cannot continue its antagonistic relationship to the Academy.  It is true that to some degree many departments and programs have an antagonistic relationship to Christianity, but able-minded Christians can work within the system for positive change.  (After all they have not kicked me out yet.)  The Christian ghetto, the isolated Christian bubble, and the insistence on removing ourselves wholly from the world seems to be at odds with the Incarnational aspects of the Gospel.

Simply put the Church needs more individuals who are willing to approach the intellectual world with a humility and openness that gains us a voice in the discourse.

3.  Without Vision the People Perish.

Part of Exponential is to bring in some of the influential individuals from around the world to talk about what is happening in their own places of ministry.  What makes them influential is, to some degree, the fact that a lot of people have responded to what they are doing.  Obviously there is a flaw in the system, in that numbers aren’t necessarily the best indicator of success, but nonetheless it is where we are.

What scares me is that it is possible to simply look at what these people are doing, appropriate it and unthinkingly try to bring it in to a context where it does not fit.  It is as if these leader’s experiences are commodities that the thousands of eager audience members can purchase and import to their own Church without considering if this brand is right for them.  Furthermore, each leader was different, and yet we try to mix and match pieces from each one without noticing that the pieces don’t fit.  I am convinced more and more that there is not one fool proof system.  This leaders are successful in part because they have clear vision and determination to wholeheartedly chase after their vision.

Simply put instead of stealing someone else’s vision I think that we need to develop some of our own.  Plagarism doesn’t work in the world I live in, and I am pretty sure that the Church could do with a little less as well.

If you are interested in checking out this stuff for yourself Exponential does have a podcast of their material.  It looks like 2008 Conference stuff is up, but 2009 is still tickling in.

Here are three pieces of news that are important changes to my world at the moment.

1.  I would like to officially introduce to the world Peanut.  (That is what I am calling the baby that Erica and I are having.)  Right now he or she is about the size of a peanut, as Erica is about 9 weeks pregnant.  She is due November 26, and I am pretty excited.  This week we went to the doctor and had our first sonogram, and for the first time we heard Peanut’s heartbeat.  It was probably one of the coolest things I have ever been a part of.  I hope you enjoy Peanut’s first picture.

2.  I am now officially the Student Minister at Crossbridge Christian Church. I will be working there part-time as I work toward the completion of my Dissertation.  The changes in my life right now are coming on at a pace that can only be described as Fast and Furious, but I think in the end my news is more exciting than the works of Vin Diesel.  Crossbridge has a great group of youth and youth sponsors, and I am honored to serve with them

3. I am a PhD Candidate.  Hip-hip hooray.  So I passed my oral exams a couple weeks ago.  It was a little more intense than I expected, but the scars are starting to heal.  Now all I have to do is write an original work of scholarship of about 200-300 pages.  Good times, yeah good times.  (By the way for those of who have have been wondering Candidacy is the word used to describe a PhD student who has completed all the course work and the Preliminary Examinations and now only has the final research project to complete.)  Thanks for all your support in the process, and I will keep you updated on the Dissertation progress.

So there you go that is what is happening in my world.

I thought a post regarding the lighter side of life might be in order.

Today as I drove home traffic slowed as we moved past the capitol due to a large group of protesters.  I had no idea who they were, so I did some googling.  These enraged citizens were part of the Tallahassee Tea Party protest, voicing their objections to Obama’s economic policies.  I’m not really as interested in the politics, but I have to say this is simultaneously the most ridiculous and hilarious form of protest I have seen.  Well-dressed business men, soccer moms, and bored looking children stood in solidarity, waving their signs and tea bags.  It had to be one the highlights of my week.  I hope you too had the opportunity to see such a “powerful” display of democracy in your town.  I don’t mean to poke fun at their political stance, but somehow for me the message got lost in the medium.

I wonder if this is how George III felt when all that tea was set afloat in the Boston Harbor?

The photo comes from the blog that promotes the event.  Here’s one more for good measure:

A comment submitted to my last blog made me think that perhaps some extended comments may be needed for clarification.  (You may want to read the comment and the previous post before continuing.)

1.  I am not advocating cheating.  I am simply commenting on a frequent reaction or overreaction to a common problem in the academy.

2.  Molly, my own personal conviction is that religion is uniquely positioned to provide ethical guidance, but that does not mean that it is the only system.  I find social contracts interesting, and a reasonable alternative to individuals who do not ascribe to religious codes, but I don’t believe that the social contract is working.  Or perhaps more specifically I do not believe that we are being honest regarding the contract we actually live by.

3.  I remember signing the honor code at my college.  It was one of dozens of documents I was forced to sign in order to be admitted.  It was as important to me as the document that promised I would repay my loans, or the one that said I would adhere to all parking regulations, or the one that said “I solemnly swear to return my mail key at the end of the year.”  In short I signed because they said I had to, but it seemed like just another piece of needless legalese.  In short I had become numb to the frequent “contracts” that I was asked to ascribe to.  I like many of my peers did not highly value these agreements, but instead viewed them as the necessary gate keeper that guarded what we really wanted. One may argue that if I did not agree to it, then I should not have signed it.  But the fact of the matter was I knew that the society I lived in valued college graduates more than it valued high school graduates with impeccable integrity.  I suppose I believe that society would prefer a college graduate with impeccable integrity, but at the time I signed on to honor code because I felt like I had no option.  (For the most part I did adhere to this code, but it was because of a personal code of ethics, not the contract.)

4. This is the society I think we live in–A society where contracts and codes whate’er their origins are devalued in light of a higher set of goals. Grades, degrees, money, votes, any pursuit of happiness supersede the ethical social contract.  The greatest good is that which leads to the greatest happiness. As long as we can avoid punishment, we’re good.

In Conclusion: My post was intended to point out that we live according to one set of values, but feign anger when people transgress against our professed ethical codes.  I do find this lamentable, but I believe it more accurately describes the world I live in.

Today I was listening to a tried and true favorite in the form of NPR’s Talk of the Nation.  They highlighted the sophisticated technology that has grown up around students who are buying original term papers written by outside sources.  (You can check out the NPR discussion here or the source story that prompted the discussion at The Chronicle of Higher Education.)  Anyone who has taught a couple semesters of higher education should not be surprised that students cheat, or even that students are going to increasingly complex lengths to do so.  What surprised me was the sort of pseudo-indignation of the reporters regarding the practice.  Repeatedly they asked people who engaged in such practices if they felt guilty for their action, and repeatedly the guilty parties agreed that it probably was not exactly ethical, but they had good justifications for their behavior.

When did we become surprised that people don’t act with integrity and are not plagued by an overwhelming sense of guilt when they don’t act ethically?  Was it when we found out that politicians frequently misrepresent the truth for their own personal gain, or when corporations engaged in increasingly shady business practices to improve the bottom line?  (Thanks George W., Bill Clinton, Enron, and basically the entire banking sector for providing such stellar examples that I need not elaborate.)  This affected disbelief of reporters and pundits further exacerbates the problem by implying that there is some sort of agreed upon moral compass that still guides our business, education, and larger societal interactions.

It seems hard to have that solid Protestant work ethic when you remove the Protestantism.  (I’m not asking everyone to subscribe to a Protestant worldview, but the sort of morally motivated fury spewed from the news agency pulpit seems based on a bastardized version of this conception of the world.) For those who do not ascribe to the Protestant view of the world and for those who do, it seems evident that our cultural modus operandi today deals more with what can you sufficiently justify and reasonably be expected to get away with, as opposed to disciplined subjects who have internalized the expectations of society.  I am not asking us to return to a bygone era–or even imagine one that probably never existed in the first place–I am asking us to stop pretending that there is an agreed upon moral set of expectations that guide all of us, when our lived experience and best philosophers chucked that out the window some time ago.  We may lament the change, we may seek to counteract it, but we should not pretend that it has not happened.

When students cheat in my classes, I fail them, but I don’t ask or expect them to feel guilty.  That seems to be out of sync with the world I live in.  It’s not that I don’t wish for a higher ethical standard, I’m just not surprised that I currently don’t see it.  Maybe if we admit that we have lost something in the world of the ethical, we can begin an attempt to regain it.  Until then let’s leave the pseudo-indignation at the door.

I’m officially a PhD Candidate. I would claim to be more excited, but I have to admit that the defense did not go swimmingly. There were no problems with the things I wrote, in fact the comments on those came back with high marks, but I definitely got a few questions that I could have handled more adequately. It’s not really a big deal, but I was surprised by some of the issues that my committee chose to focus on. It’s nothing malicious on their part, just part of the way scholarship works and undoubtedly reflective of their own research interests.

I think I will choose to think of it as an opportunity to evaluate just how much there is that I still need to learn, a healthy reminder before the upcoming dissertation stage. Looks like my reading list just got a whole lot longer. Well, here’s to candidacy and a reserved sigh of relief.

April is National Poetry Month.  Somehow poetry has fallen out of favor in our contemporary culture, but part of the excitement of graduate school for me has been a rediscovery of poetry.  Here is a quirky little poem that happens to be one of my favorites from William Wordsworth:

WE ARE SEVEN
A SIMPLE Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
–Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?”
“How many? Seven in all,” she said
And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”
She answered, “Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!–I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,
“Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little Maid replied,
“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,
“If they two are in heaven?”
Quick was the little Maid’s reply,
“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!”
‘Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”
1798.

If you have any favorites feel free to link them.

It’s about 1am as I begin to write this, and the past few days have
been…
well…
something.

I’ve lived in Florida for a while now and, therefore, I am no stranger to violent torrents of rain, but something different is happening here.  I assume this must be what the great American northwest is like, and for some strange reason I have really enjoyed it.  Yes it wreaks havoc on my hair, and yes I show up to every meeting, class, and lecture wet and disheveled, but it is beautiful—maybe even sublime.  Despite the growing mounds of work, every day sees me standing, staring out the windows watching the water fall and flood a world that has become to familiar.  Finding those moments to watch as the normal becomes strange and alien, I find myself…well…something.

Some late night reading this evening has only amplified such a contemplative posture.  David Kirby’s The Temple Gate Called Beautiful is a series of poems about life and death and the afterlife.  For me it’s not The House on Boulevard Street, but ontologically I guess the law of non-contradiction makes this so for everyone.  Despite the differences, the book has moments every bit as engaging as its predecessor. (I like reading books by my professors; it is like a window into another part of the enigma that is the professional academic.  I generally don’t talk about the fact that I read their works, but I like to see how their brain works—how they process and deliver information.) Kirby’s poems have this strange ability of making you believe they meander aimlessly from thought to thought, however in the end there is a clear destination, even if it is only decided ambiguity.  As I read poem after poem, I noticed how often his mother and father appeared, and I was overcome with a sense of nostalgia.

I miss my parents, who now reside in the budding island nation known as Haiti.  And, as I thought back to times past, I started missing past versions of me.  Like Wordsworth in “Tintern Abbey” I have lost a piece of myself, and I often wonder where it has gone.  Again like Wordsworth I feel like there is a sort of recompense, but I am not always sure it is abundant.  (Then again I’m not totally convinced that he really believed that either.)  After the age of 22 the world lost something…I lost something, and I miss it.  I should admit that such feeling of loss, don’t preclude my happiness in this present place.  I love my life now.  In fact, in light of recent events, my life is currently filled with possibility and hope and life.  But the
Rain…
And the lack of sleep…
And the books about loss and life after that…

All have me…
well…
something.

You know the problem with magical wardrobes?  They’re awful hard to find.  All my doors seem to lead to school and work, to papers that need grading and dishes, and laundry, and books—piles and piles of books—that were constructed for reading.  I miss the magic in the world.  I prefer the superstition.  I prefer the books of my childhood to the literature of my degrees.  I tire of finding ample examples from my own life to explain to my students the signification of terms such as alienation or ennui.  Let the rest of the world grow old and tired—let them grow dull and boring and angry—I choose a different way…Deliberately…Defiantly…

“Touch—for there is a spirit in the woods.”