A Belated Father's Day Tribute to Pastor John

Some of the photos I like most during this election season have been the ones showing Obama in the role of father. Images of him embracing his girls, evidently loving and caring for them - during the race of his life - make my little adamantine heart sort of clench, you know?

I've written a lot about my dad here on ChurchGal. He reads this site and has been incredibly gracious about standing in as my occasional straw man against which I throw my screeds and opinions.

If you looked at him today, with his distinguished gray hair, glasses and the goatee (that makes all the old ladies love him), you'd see an educated, charismatic older black man. A man who looks like he could be a jazzer or a popular philosophy professor at a city college. A man who looks comfortable wearing the collar of a reverend as well as the crazy red cashmere sweater-gym shorts-dress socks-sandals combo he wears to his daughters' chagrin during Saturday brunch. He looks settled, comfortable, successful. But his life story is, to me, the typical African American bildungsroman.

My father grew up in the ghetto. Literally. THE GHETTO. The projects of Compton and Watts might as well have been a sharecroppers plot. But from the ghetto, he went into the Army, married my mother, went to school to earn two degrees (including one from Talbot Seminary), became the young associate pastor of our church, then senior pastor.

I think growing up in the ghetto gave my dad some resilience. He built several ministries from scratch, launched a radio show and a web ministry; he survived a number of professional rivalries, controversies and church schisms. He survived the sudden death of his wife, the new world of dating in the 21st century and has somehow managed to avoid getting leg-shackled again. I remember a story he told me about dating a woman who became so frustrated at his unwillingness to 'take it to the next level' she sicced her little yappy dog on him and dumped water over his head on a beach date. Clearly, my relationship issues are a family trait.

My pops has lost several friends, made quite a few enemies, and earned grudging respect because of his unwavering integrity and willingness to call bullshit on the black church's excesses and hypocrisies. He's often an exasperating object of frustration to his daughters.

(A common refrain: "Dad, why don't you do things the way they're meant to be done?!"
A common response: "Oh, girl. You worry too much.")

In his middle age, my dad has become a different dad. The previous authoritarian has been replaced by a more mellow, cigar smoking, wine-sipping, Christian libertarian whose motto is 'That is between you and God. But you know you're wrong.'

This later incarnation of my dad is a very cool, though befuddling, one.

So this is what my father taught me:

He taught me how to argue. Dinnertime was usually 90 minutes of my dad and I exhausting my mother and sister while I argued why it wasn't a sin to go to the Homecoming Dance or the weekend ski trip and he'd block me every time - until I figured out how to flip his rhetoric around on him. Good times.
He taught me how to fight. Watching my dad constantly turn the other cheek in the name of the Lord, I formed different opinions about the value of strategic conflict. I mean, David was a warrior, right?
He taught me how to think critically. Listening to my dad tear apart the faulty logic of his opponents was cool; having that same logic tearing applied to me, not so much.
He taught me how to tell a story to make a point. These were always the best parts of his sermons.
He taught me how to lose. Like that Elizabeth Bishop poem, 'One Art.'
He taught me how to start over. Watching a pastor incubate and launch new ministries will do that.
He taught me that education counts.
He taught me that integrity and character count more.
He taught me that it is possible to change.
He also taught me there are some things you can't change - who you are is WHO you are. It's just that some folks lie about who they are.
He taught me how to charm. The moms in the PTA liked my dad for a reason.
He taught me about jazz.
He turned me into a feminist (when he told me I needed to learn how to make a man a sandwich.)
He is a walking lesson in vulnerability, sacrifice, faith and dedication to one's Call. (Yes, he might have *said* he wants to give his congregation the finger but he's still there.) This is a lesson I'm still trying to get.
He taught me that you make your own path. One thing I've always loved about my dad (both of my parents, actually) is that he has never, despite the unfortunate sandwich incident, tried to dictate my identity.

My memories of dad are those of unwavering support, whatever my decision has been. He was the one who drove across the country with my stuff when I started at UofM; he was the one who helped move me to Chicago when I decided to leave UofM; he was the one who didn't blink an eye when I told him I was going to jump into the unknown world of the non profit. He was the one who shut down his congregation when they had the nerve to whisper about my gay friends attending and helping out with my mother's funeral. He was the one who showed me that when other people start telling you how they need you to be someone you know you're not, you need to walk away and say, 'You crazy.' Consequences be damned. Most likely, there won't be any.

So, thanks, Dad. You've made me the feminist, bitchy, snarky, authority-hating loudmouth bougie snob I am today.

Love you! Happy Belated Father's Day!

whew! crazy pastor not my dad.

Too Sense: Black Pastor Says Obama, Oprah, and Wright are 'Trinity of Hell'

so imagine the shudder of dread i experienced when i came across this post:

Let's see, according to this guy: Oprah betrayed white women (who put her
where she is today) by supporting Obama; Wright and Obama are closet gays, and
Obama stayed at Trinity United Methodist because he was having a gay
relationship with Wright; George Soros gave $200 million to Obama's campaign,
and Obama spent all of the money on white hotels and white media; in the
"Trinity of Hell" Wright is the Father, Obama is the Son, and Oprah is the Whore
Girl, looking to be President, Vice-President, and Secretary of State.

my first thought was, 'Please, lord, don't let it be dad, caught on tape saying something totally crazy on his website...'

and it wasn't! it was some other black pastor who doesn't like oprah winfrey!

sorry, dad. (you know i love you!)

Amen: Compassion Fatigue

LutheranChik's "L" Word Diary: Compassion Fatigue

Before I get lost in all the post-primary hand-wringing I just wanted to bring to y'all's attention this really thought-provoking post from LutheranChick about compassion fatigue, or that wall some people in the pastorate hit when, to use a business term, the ROI isn't forthcoming.

What would be an acceptable Return on Investment? Well, something indicating that an impact has been made; change or improvement, however miniscule.

After years of being senior pastor of a small community church, which came after being senior pastor at a medium Baptist congregation, my dad told me and my sister this past weekend that he's calling it quits.

"I don't want to stop being a pastor, but I don't want to be pastor of that church anymore,' he said, sounding more frustrated and angry than I've ever heard him sound. 'I've taken them as far as they can go and I'm tired. No matter how many sermons, bible studies, counseling sessions, nothing changes - they don't change. All that time I could have spent with my wife, with you daughters that I spent with them and it hurts."

My sister and I said, "It's about time. They were killing you."

So, in a way, this post is for my dad who's 64 years old and deserves a frakking rest.

From LutheranChik:
I have a friend who, through her church work, got involved with a similarly dysfunctional household. Soon she was being called in the middle of the night with requests like, "So-and-So is in jail. Can you go and bail her out?" She'd schedule doctors' appointments for the pregnant unwed daughter only to have the daughter refuse to comply with the healthcare provider. She'd arrange for the family matriarch to get hooked up with this or that social service, only to have the woman fail to show up for appointments or turn in paperwork. After many months of this, my friend was becoming physically ill, anxious and filled with guilt over somehow "not doing enough" for these people. "Whenever I say I'm done with them, I think, 'What would Jesus do?'" she said, tears in her eyes.

Maybe I'm just channeling the values of my hardworking blue-collar parents, but I can't help but think that at some point Jesus would tell immature, deadbeat parents to look for work, and pursue social services for which they're qualified, with the same energy that they look for excuses; and to make their children, rather than their own comfort and whim, the family priority.

...
In this Lenten season, this post also makes me think about Christ's short ministry and just how much it must have taken to be on that path of His, knowing where it would end and dragging those disciples behind Him as they consistently misunderstood His mission and vision. I wonder if he ever asked for a new group of guys who were a little bit more swift on the uptake.

And I think about the disciples, ordinary men struggling with everything they're seeing and hearing, following but getting some things wrong along the way. I wonder if they ever sat around and thought, 'WTH??'

...
The board that I sit on in my church governs our social service programs and we were in the middle of putting together some materials for external funding. Part of our standard language describes our mission as transforming lives which is a pretty feel-good claim to make. But the man who directs one of our programs said in a meeting once, 'We don't transform lives. We feed people. We give them clothes. We meet a material need. Are their lives transformed when they come to us, when we help them? I have no idea.'

His words were like a really cold bucket of water being thrown over my head. Is it even possible for us to transform lives?

Anyway, I hear you LutheranChik. Hang in there.

baby daddies are dangerous

first, did you know that the second biggest injury-related killer of pregnant women is homicide?
amazing.

i'm sure you've read the news stories about that pregnant woman in ohio, jessi davis, who was killed by her boyfriend and found in a field. and then about that woman and her kids killed in illinois by her husband. what's up with men?? you have issues and the first thing you do is murder your girlfriend and kids?

it boggles the freaking mind. these stories of murdered women build up and sometimes it makes you look at the other half of the population all aslant.

this woman wrote her boyfriend a note in response to these latest stories of domestic violence against women:

If for some reason I am pregnant, and you suddenly realize that I am just days away from delivering, don't kill me. I know you might not be "ready" to be a father, but there are better ways out of it. Of course I would prefer it if you were a loving and supportive husband and father, but you might freak out. Maybe you're having an affair. Now being a man, you won't think things through. Killing me is NOT an option. Counseling IS an option. You do realize you would be the first person police questioned if I were to go missing right?

If you must be rid of me, just up and leave. I'll go home to live with my dad, or find solace in the arms of a best friend. But I will be alive, and that's the clincher. I'd rather be a single mom on welfare than found murdered in the wilderness.

...
when my dad was visiting, he got embroiled in a rather heated group discussion with my girlfriends about our singleness. (because we are all speaking english but busing it differently, it's a futile conversation; but we keep having it and my girlfriends are gracious enough to indulge.)

but his constant refrain, which kept puzzling us, was "be a woman."

we had no idea what that meant. i mean, we have ovaries. we're women. there's no escaping that simple, biological fact.

oh, be 'feminine!' that's what he means!
well, i have an issue with that, too.
a girl friend told us (including my dad) the story of walking her dog in her 'hood. she passed this guy also walking his dog and he just got all aggressive on her and called her a dumb bitch and got in her face; she got back in his. my dad said that the correct response would have been to go soft and demure. uh, no. here in the city, you come at me, i come at you back.

if i took my dad's advice i guess i should have let that drunk guy bust in on me in the bathroom at a party some years ago. i should have let him intimidate me and publicly humiliate me. i should have gone all soft and giggly while he physically threatened me instead of defending myself while hurling a wooden brush through the air and knocking him on his ass.

but to look at the larger culture, i guess 'being a woman' also means 'being killed.'

thanks, i'd rather not.

[post corrected to be more accurate - thanks, lilith!]

generation gap, pt 1

There really is a gulf separating those of us who live in my vague Generational X-ish sphere and Boomers like my dad, and the chasm between us seems virtually impassable. But I suspect this impassability has more to do with the comfort of familiar nostalgic narratives than anything real.

On the phone with my dad Sunday morning while he waited in Nebraska for a flight to get him back to California after a series of snow delays, our conversation turned to my sister and her husband calling my father for more babysitting duties.

Shorter Dad, the Boomer: Young folks today with families are shirking their responsibilities and have too much free time.

Shorter Ding, the Gen X-er: Young families/single people today have totally different (and in crucial ways, more demanding) responsibilities than the ones you guys had back in the 70s. Life is different now so don’t expect solutions to be the same as back in the day.

And this is where the dangerous power of nostalgia comes in. I love and esteem my dad in a huge way, but there are some crucial gaps in his memory. Gone is the fact that he and mom didn’t have an extended network of family around them – there were no cousins, aunts or uncles to take up any family slack (which isn’t usually the norm), so he and mom going it alone was a matter of necessity rather than choice; gone is the fact that mom was a secretary and he was a civil servant, so their professional obligations were very different than the ones my sister, brother in law and I have; gone is the fact that the cost of living/raising a family was considerably lower then than now; gone is the memory that my sister and I, through our elementary and junior high lives, had babysitters to watch us after school until our parents came home from work, though it’s somewhat comforting to think that mom and dad provided every moment of care themselves; also gone is the uncomfortable fact that, at the height of his pastorate, my father spent 90% of his time away from the home and family.

(Also forgotten: the bulk of their parenting advice came from our hardened, cranky, arid as Texas, Depression era Baptist pastor whose relationship with his own offspring was, shall we say, less than ideal.)

Nostalgia, however, paints a golden patina over all of these potholes of memory until the surface looks smooth and glossy. Instead of highlighting how he and mom operated in a parenting context that reflected their social and economic context, their childrearing is a simple story of two parents stalwartly facing the music and going it alone because, naturally, that’s what parents do.

But perhaps my sister and I are guilty of the same kind of nostalgia, too. Perhaps, in our mind's eye, we have a comfortable idea of what grandparents are: accessible, doting on the grandchildren, service-oriented. But that's not who my father is at all. Like others of his generation, he has a very fixed outside life from family. There's a strong feeling of "I put in my time and now it's Me time." Who can argue with that? What right do we have to impose on what little time he has left? (heh.) The grandparents now aren't the grandparents of whenever: they get depressed, restless, horny, impatient and, frankly, don't want to relive the years of raising kids.

My father teaches, goes on conferences, counsels, and preaches. (Sometimes he even goes out on a date.) And he deliberately bought a car that won't fit a child's car seat, let alone two. Deep down, the single childless woman in me respects his independence, applauding and encouraging it.

So if we are more similar than we think, why can't our generations keep nostalgia from clouding our perceptions of one another?

(next: take this job and shove it!)

merry merry

i'm off to visit the family on the west coast so i'll be posting sporadically, desperately behind my writing schedule.

have a wonderful holiday to all five of my readers!
love the ones you're with and be thankful you're with the ones you love.

see you soon, dad!

ding

about 5 years ago i lost my mother. it was devastating.

and now, my best friend/roomie has lost hers. it's also devastating.
i'll be taking the next few days off to be with her and some of our friends who are flying out to join A- and her family for the services.

each parental loss i and my friends experience tells us how finite family is; our friends become our family.

(love you, dad.)

it's been a while...

but here are the highlights:
the guy i dumped back in january came back and, surprisingly, i rejected him again! some things are left better to die.
yes, i will be going to new york with my dad at the end of the summer. (and new jersey!)
yes, i've been working my arse off.
no, i don't think i'll ever have fun again.

and my sister, cruel cruel wench that she is, said to me recently, "You might as well get used to saying you're 37 now. It's right around the corner." Thus plunging me into a startling and deep pit of anger/depression - depranger. bitch!

off for drinks at NoMi with some presbyterians.

my dad and i talk about poverty and jesus

From Dad, re: my first post on Social Creeds, below -

I read your blog, you know. (LOL) What is biblical? Not daddy’s interpretation, rather the bible’s:
only that which is inspired by God written by those Apostles that wrote by means of the guiding hand of the Holy Spirit which is commanded for only Christians to follow.

(Just one way to put it)

Nowhere in the bible does Jesus command His followers to care for the poor of the world. As a matter of fact he says, "The poor you will always have with you." This does not imply that we ought not assist in feeding others and making their lives easier. Remember Helps Ministry day? That was my way of doing that. And, hey, it worked. The poor showed up every month and never got the spiritual lesson to help thyself!

Keep on thinking but never forget the value of remembering that which worked.

My reply to Dad, re: poverty –

i know you read my blog, dad!

and i know what you mean by biblical - that's not what i meant.

this is what i meant: you can argue that jesus does call for caring for the poor in his instructions to the young man to sell his goods and follow him, in his beatitudes that teach that the least shall be first and, at least in the parable of the banquet. now, is that the most important lesson? no - clearly, in his rebuke of the disciples (when they wanted the woman to sell her oil and give the money to the poor instead of washing christ's feet) he's rebuking them for not paying attention to the heavenly goals of his ministry - they're focusing on the wrong thing!

but the bible also calls us to be our brother's keeper, doesn't it? it exhorts us to exercise humility in the face of greater need and to be as christ was - a servant. if christ is humble enough to wash the feet of his disciples isn't there a moral lesson in this as well for us to wash our brother's feet? throughout his ministry he urges charity and compassion - as well as the spiritual lesson. there are more instances of jesus chastising an overwhelming dependence on material gain than the opposite.

and is 'help thyself' a spiritual lesson or a cultural lesson? really? i must have missed that in bible school, dad! if the argument can be made that christ didn't advocate for the poor the same argument can be made that he wasn't all about rampant individualism and self-sufficiency, either! everything about the bible says the exact opposite of self-reliance: we are to call on Him, we are to rest our thoughts and beliefs outside of our selves, relying totally on christ outside of our selves. we are, basically, to forsake mother, father, family, country and all for HIM. that's not self-reliance - that's ultimate dependence.

but peter also calls for us to display, among other things, brotherly kindness: "For he who lacks these qualities is blind or short-sighted, having forgotten his purification from his former sins."

so, you're right: the exact words "Take care of the poor" don't appear in the bible. But that doesn't mean that we ought not to.

(the words "go to college, move out of your parent's house, get an education and become a productive member of society" aren't in the bible, either.
but that doesn't mean that it's not a good idea.)

Love and all that,
Ding

P.S.:
Other words and ideas that aren't mentioned in the bible but pose no huge biblical conflict because, heck, it's just a good idea:
health care, insurance, literacy, 401k, democracy, trial by jury, freedom of speech, public education, housing for the homeless, pasteurization for milk, airplanes, vaccinations, vacation time, anti-child labor laws

Dad’s reply to me –

Hey Girl of mine!

I got your point. I agree wholeheartedly. My thing is that, overall, the most important aspect of one's faith is being obedient to Christ first and foremost. I would never advocate forgetting the poor - those that have a greater need than me. You are correct; but to use the bible and the words of Jesus as a justification for social advocacy to me is pressing the button a little too firm. True; it is not about taking care of your business as it is advocating His which is clearly detailed in the scriptures. The text of 1st John 3:17 the Apostle writes: "But whosoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?" You are so correct. I know that the text is there; this was one of the primary ideas of the Christ. That is why I, too, can take communion.

My shabby life of material things is in no way a justification for me to be full and see any human being in need. I send money on a regular basis to the "Voice of the Martyrs," an agency that sends food and clothing to those Christians in Islamic countries that are being killed on a regular basis. My heart goes out to my brothers and sisters in foreign lands. I would also give the same to other needy people. I really do not have the resources to do that. Your church ministry is helping on a big scale and for that reason I praise God for your ministry.

It is not an issue of liberal vs. conservative. The greater issue is, as you would put it, Do we feel the pain of those who have nothing compared to the haves who are taking all that they can without regard of the feelings of others? This, I'm in agreement with you, is indeed a sin. You are my daughter. I do read you well. Know that I think that we are saying the same thing; but just a little differently. Good; so you do know what I mean as biblical. You see; I place that as the highest priority in that each of us will be allowed to enter in into the life to come on that basis alone.

Oh (LOL), one more thing. That one cannot perceive that the miracles of the scriptures could have taken place in no way verifies that they did not. It takes great faith to take, at first glance, all that you see in the text. I heard one guy say recently on TV that the miracles of the fishes and loaves was merely Christ taking a lunch bag of one young man and passing it around to over 5,000 people and they received the lesson about living for others so they took their own hidden lunches from their own waistbands and, since they learned the lessons of Christ, returned the lunch and then added their own. Justifying the myth of the miracle? Totally unlikely in that environment. Why, simply put, without the Holy Spirit dwelling in the sinful hearts of fallen man, ain't nobody gonna be that loving towards others - even in the presence of Christ. All of the miracles took place. I think that men make up excuses for things that they just find hard to believe.

Just my two cents; wow, look how much I've written. I must love my baby!

my father is vastly more conservative than i am in his theology and, yet, he fails to make me insane. i like talking with my preacher dad about christianity. (i mean, ok, he thinks the UN is a vast conspiracy ushering in the antichrist, but whatever.)
the point is that somewhere between Anonymous calling a desire for fairness Marxist/Socialist and me saying that an important aspect of christianity is about looking out for the less able, there has to be somewhere in between, where we can come together.

whither obedience?

today was a full sunday.
church services, communion, church tour, bookstore, downtown wandering and the superbowl.
(damn you, pittsburgh 'stealers', damn you! you know that ball never made it across the line!)

after my pitiful whining about being obedient my dad sent me an email telling me the tension i'm feeling is my fighting against my need to be obedient. i can live with that but obedient in what context, exactly?

to rules of behavior?
to christian groupthink?

i think of that anonymous commenter in the 'choice' post below. (the one i called a self-righteous pharisee. sigh. that was harsh. damn my quick temper.) the way they went immediately from a thinly veiled ad hominem attack (i'm selfish) to a blurt of scripture to take away the sting. i bet whoever that commenter is, they're super obedient. they don't make mistakes, they do all the right things, they say only what's backed up by scripture, and they like the apostle paul best out of all the bible guys.

i don't want to be that kind of obedient christian. that kind of obedience reminds me of all the guys on those christian dating sites: they wore the jesus-mask and they all seemed ...odd. yes, the way is narrow but why is it the only models of christianity that we see (even here) are either the rigid, legalistic puritanical freak who seems to want to put everyone in jail or the flaccid, 'let everything hang out' hippie who thinks we should all give hamas a shout out?

a while ago, a guy told me that i didn't like church guys because, well, i wasn't a christian. i laughed. who else but a christian would be so concerned about not fitting in with the christian flock? (you think any old wanker would care? please.) but if christianity means conformity about *everything* then i'm at a loss. because, to me, that's what obedience means. to conform. it means the effing 'scarlet letter' and dimmsdale!

where is our identity as believers supposed to come from? our knowledge of the Word or...what? how well we adhere to correct forms of behavior? how well we hate the things we're supposed to hate? how well we...what? what is it? if paul can say that to the weak he became weak, to the gentile he became a gentile and to the jew a jew, then what's so horrific about saying, as a christian, that to the gay person i became their advocate; to the woman who's facing an intimate, personal choice, i will be that person who lets her make that intimate choice - how is that so disobedient?

[ha. you thought i didn't have a point and i did!]

Blog for Choice: It's About Responsibility

I tried once before to outline why I'm so pro-choice, but I didn't like it. I was too wishy washy. I was too concious of the fact my dad reads this space sometimes and that, by advocating for choice because it matters to me personally, my stance marks a complete break with my fundamentalist upbringing. I was also highly conscious that making a personal argument of it, I might as well have put on a snappy little cami with a big scarlet F on it for fornicatrix.

Oh, well. Too late for that now. No more sqeamishness. I'm coming out:

1. I believe in the separation of church and state: whatever your political opinions on abortion, birth control or choice, most likely it’s colored by your faith (or even the absence thereof.) In other words being for/against abortion usually comes down to a religious argument. Our thoughts about zygotes, conception, what the egg thinks/feels, what it’s for, what women’s bodies are for – these are all faith-based arguments. But establishing civic authority over a woman's body based on religious orthodoxy is antithetical to the idea of church/state separation. Like it or not, we live in a secular country. And in this particular secular context, church and state are supposed to live in two different neighborhoods.

(And, no – I don’t believe that America was founded to be a Christian nation; if you do, then you have a wickity whack knowledge of history, dude.)

2. I believe that reproductive freedom is about more than abortion: most discussions among regular people (not policy nerds) begin and end at abortion. (It’s like most conversations about sex ed beginning and ending at abstinence or handing out condoms.) But imagine if your first choice didn’t have to be about abortion. Just as important to reproductive choice, if not more so, are issues around equal access to all methods of birth control, insurance coverage for contraception, comprehensive sex education for young people, information about sexual health and careful family planning. Wouldn’t it be nice if politicians and religious groups weren’t actually forcing someone to play the abortion end game, and let women and girls have access to what they’ll need so they won’t get pregnant?
:
3. I believe I shouldn’t be punished for having sex by being forced to give birth When conversations about choice or rights or women’s bodies crop up, there's always that smart-ass who thinks she’s scoring a philosophical or rhetorical point by sneering, “Well, you shouldn’t have had sex if you didn’t want the responsibility blah blah sneer sneer snit snit.”

Well, no shit. But it’s utterly beside the point. Better watch out - not only is your misogyny showing, you run the risk of toppling beneath the weight of your halo. Our biology automatically dictates that women assume most of the responsibility/consequences of sex. Any slip in vigilance impacts our lives immediately. It’s why the Christian Right’s recent moves against contraception must stop. If you take away my access to birth control, you take away my ability to be responsible for myself. That’s a heavy and ever present responsibility; to me, advocating for choice is ‘personal responsibility’ personified. And we carry that responsibility – why does Alito and his ilk think such responsibility should rest elsewhere?

The separation of religious and civic authority is at the heart of this fight and it’s the most important to me. It’s not that I don’t care what the bible says or what moral squeamishness other people might have; but, ultimately, your exegesis or your thoughts on your morality have nothing to do with whether a woman who’s not you should have the right to make decisions about what happens to her uterus and ovaries.

Her uterus.
Her ovaries.
Her faith.
Her moral agency.
Her responsibility.
Hers.

am i a heretic?

apparently, i am a Chalcedon compliant. i have no idea what that is, but good to know i'm not a heretic. my dad would be relieved.

from the rev gal pals here.

from a phone conversation with my sister the other night:

ding: i dumped b-.
sis: what, this is the 8th time?
ding: second. first was three years ago. this time, it's sticking.
sis: good for you.
ding: yeah. you know, the older i get the more i realize i'm turning into mom. i will swallow my feelings and bitterness and then resent the hell out of you for not knowing you're the cause. it's disturbing. i'm a workaholic like dad and a silent seether like mom.
sis: perfect combination for a heart attack.

so, since i don't want to have a heart attack, i'll come back to blogging over the weekend, when i've had some time to rest and imagine a social life that is apparently barren.

an article and then a ramble

American Prospect Online - Having It Both Ways

i talk about my dad a lot here. i can't help it. he's the one guy (if not the only guy) i totally respect. he was the major intellectual force for me when i was growing up. for as long as i can remember he said that he was a rampant individualist. his individualism can be seen in his ministry, one that advocates an eschewing of 'group think' and encourages a congregation to turn individually to the bible and give their fat cat preacher a big bitch slap for stepping out of line. (i paraphrase.)

it's difficult to maintain a congregation when you continually encourage them to mutiny, but such was the paradox of my dad's ministry.

while such rampant individualism is useful (innovation, imagination, sense of self in relation to others - basically, it makes you no one's fool) it's problematic when there is no community to surround the individual. for instance, i was talking to my father right after the katrina disaster and was encouraging him to tell his congregation to be more involved with the disaster efforts. he told me they were involved but he also said, my ministry is more of a spiritual one, not a social one. that was a little disturbing for me and i wondered if this was what was making me draw away from a particular kind of christian faith.

i'm not comfortable with the spiritual/social binary the church seems to be stuck on. while i love the Gray Lady, i do wish there was more...preaching. our social stances i am totally happy with. our focus on living as a community of faith is one that renews me. but there's that third thing i just wish there was more of. like, the other night my roomie and i were getting our tongues tied around the name gethsemane (it's the name of a local garden shop). i said, you know - it's the garden where they captured jesus.

she was totally blank and she called it 'catholic' to know details of the bible like that. she shrugged, we mainliners don't think about the details of the bible. we just like the ideas.

that kind of disturbed me. for me, the ideas and the details are all important. i'm not saying that bible trivia is necessary for a fully realized faith, but it sure as hell helps to know the effing basics!

and on the other side of the spectrum, where my dad's church is, i wish there was more of a sense of community. it's fine to be well-versed in complicated matters of doctrine, to know the bible like it's your best friend, but what does all of this mean when you don't recognize that those around you are your neighbors?

what's the point when all you can concentrate on is your muscular christian/individual spiritual walk with jesus when you can't think about other sojourners along the way?

wow. i'm totally rambling. but i'm serious. what's the point? and why don't presbyterians carry their own bible to church?? what's up with that?

the choir did it.

Church mayhem: Rogue choir, earlobe twisting - News - MSNBC.com

back in the day of being a baptist, i was a tenor in my church choir. i loved singing in the choir, especially during revival time. during that time we'd bring in T-- a young pastor from another south central congregation but one who had his masters in music. it wasn't that we didn't have a choir director - we did. but she was a little tone deaf and couldn't bang on an ivory if it jumped up her dress.

T-- was great. we were like the tone deaf nuns in 'sister act' until T-- came along; under his hand we actually sounded like a real gospel choir. (then he later fell under some scandal and, well, T-- is now just a sad man who perhaps should have told his wife he was "on the down low."

uh, i mean, gay.)

but while it was great singing in the choir it wasn't always great having one around. i don't know about anyone else's church traditions, but in the black church, if you want to put your finger on the source of gossip, backbiting, machiavellian machinations and rotating coup d'etat, then put your finger on the choir. i've never seen a bunch of folks get so fussy about who got which solo, who was on/off key, who got to sing the pastor's favorite songs, whatever.

you never hear about this stuff happening with the methodists or the episcopalians, you know? i mean, my presbyterian church choir is fabulous. they sing things like 'the planets'. it's kind of hard to get really jazzed with shaker songs, you know?

it's when my choir tries to do gospel or 'spirituals' that they make me squirm in my seat and want to run screaming down michigan avenue. don't get me wrong: i'm all for cross-cultural expressions. but if you don't know how to sing like a gospel choir, for the love of all the black folk in your congregation, please don't do it. it's bad.

for his part, dad always had a tight rein on the choir - just two songs during a service and that was it. (ideal conditions for his famous 90 minute sermons...) but the day he had to sit my godmother down because she was running the choir like her own banana republic - that was classic. she never forgave him for that.

but at least he never had to call the cops on us.

katrina and race

I just got off the phone with my father who’s been very distressed by all the images and news coming out of New Orleans at this time. A man who’s been expecting some kind of race war since 1984, my father is looking at this moment in time as a perfect opportunity for The Man to finally throw up his hands about The Violent Looting Hordes of Black People and put us all in Gitmo-like camps.

I had to calm him down; he said that things are tense where he is. Since he’s in Los Angeles, I’m not surprised. The images and news of the stranded shooting at rescue helicopters, of the city degenerating into chaos over the past week – it resonates strongly in a city that’s simmering in its own racial tensions. For him, our people have turned into animals. (He’s having a very Bill Cosby moment.)

He woke me up very early this morning (before church!!) to ask if I’d heard the rumors about cannibalism in New Orleans. I hadn’t. So I googled it. Almost all the sites that mentioned cannibalism were wacked out extreme right-wing, white supremacists.

My father was so distraught he came awfully close to saying things like this guy is saying (found via steve gilliard). I'm not going to go into an impassioned plea for racial tolerance or some pedagogical song-and-dance about how racism takes an individual act, substitutes it for the whole and then leaps off into insanity from there. It's too exhausting to teach white folks (and black folks like my dad) about the power structures of Racism. Let's keep the conversation on the micro level.

Is that what the majority of us think? Deep down, below our manners and our politics? Beyond stats on FEMA, levees, poor planning, poor execution, is this what we really think?

If it is, the problem isn’t just in New Orleans.

om...

when my father was on a rampage against secular humanism back in the day, one of the things he railed against was new age thinking. back then, the closest i ever got to new age anything was The Wave, a radio station that played kenny g and manheim steamroller. i never really paid all that much attention to it.

one bible study of my father's once mentioned that meditation was dangerous because 'when you empty your mind the devil can step in.' i never quite understood that, either. it seemed equally irrational.

to me, never giving your mind a rest seemed like a recipe for a nervous breakdown.

things like yoga and meditation, though the mental/health benefits of them are well-documented, aren't a part of the good baptist girl's upbringing, i guess. idle hands, empty minds, flexible limbs...all these are the devil's playground.

well, not anymore.

(my office is starting a weekly yoga class in the fall and i've signed up. i'm 35 and the stiffness in my joints is starting to piss me off. the devil be damned.)

saying a little prayer

for my dad and a new venture counseling at risk youth (in addition to his pastor duties).
let's pray this new opportunity is in God's plan for dad.

under the robe

from Real Live Preacher a telling post about the hidden parts of a pastor. it reminded me of a conversation i had with my father years ago about something he and i never would have discussed had i not moved away from home.

i said, 'do you know how my adolescence would have been completely different for me if you told me this when i was 16?'
he said, 'you were too young to deal.'
i said, 'does the church know you think this?'
he said, 'if they did they'd freak. they wouldn't be able to deal with it. so i don't tell them. i'm only supposed to bring them the Word. not let them into my head.'

telling, huh?

on the couch

Going to the Therapist En Route to the Altar - New York Times

i don't know why i'm posting this...i guess to get away from the women in ministry thing. bad taste in my mouth.

(thanks, dad!)