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I’ve spent the last hour sitting in Joe Van Gogh, a great coffee shop on campus, refilling on coffee every thirty minutes or so in an effort to stay awake.  I’m supposed to be staying awake writing a paper—I have four BIG papers due within the next two weeks. Yet instead, I’m browsing facebook.
I went on quickly, to put up a link on my status for the fantastically beautiful Keith Olbermann video, but my eye was caught by yet another status update of excitement about the passing of Proposition 8. It read: “ Jessica is we are not taking away their “rights” they already have them this is about the institution of traditional marriage!” The girl who wrote it was a friend of mine in college, my R.A.’s roommate my freshman year. Read the rest of this entry »

A conversation has been happening on the God’s Politics blog that Sojurners does on the issue of New Monasticism and Diversity. The conversation has been interesting, and super important, but I find it at least a little disheartening.

You can check out that conversation here.

It’s a bit weird in how it’s set up, but its basically an archive of all the blog posts, with the beginning blog that incited the conversation at the bottom of the page.

And here is the comment I wrote on the most recent blog, Beilers’ “Will Christians Lead or Follow on Questions of Diversity?”. It pretty much sums up why I find the conversation, though valuable, disheartening:

“I just recently picked up on this conversation, I often find myself too busy to keep up with blogs, but I’m glad I’ve stumbled upon this conversation, so much so that I’d even like to put in my two cents.

First of all, I’m thrilled that this conversation is being had! Too often, I think, we assume that the new monastics, in their radicalness, are ahead of the game in issues of diversity–and many times that may be so… but not necessarily, and this conversation seems to point out the complexities of this issue of diversity—what defines reconciliation, who defines it, how do minority communities feel, etc…..

One wrench I would like to throw into this conversation is the expanse of which we define diversity. I have been disheartened (but not at all surprised) that the scope of our notions of diversity have centered on racial and ethnic issues. Now, to be fair, the thread IS called New Monasticism and race, and I think that race is a VASTLY important issue, especially in light of what the NM movement is trying to do.

Yet I think this post Belier, and others who’ve posted, have rightly asked what diversity means and how far it reaches–what about economic diversity, about more nuanced ethnic diversity (it goes beyond black and white!)–what about women as leaders within the new monastic community. One of the bloggers drew our attention that most of the people in the limelight in the NM conversation are white males. This is problematic–not only because of the white part, but the male part as well……

But, I’m frustrated with Beiler, and with ALL the other posts and comments on this whole long thread. Not ONCE is sexual orientation mentioned. If we are going to speak of diversity, isn’t it fair to speak of all the ways in which diversity is manifested? To leave out a major category of diversity is to reproduce a hegemony.

Now, I know the whole gay question is one a lot of people aren’t comfortable with…. its something people believe is wrong, or that they’re unsure and uncomfortable about. Fair enough.

But, like it or not, there are gay and lesbian (and bi, and transgendered, etc…) Christians who care about the same things many new monastics do and who feel entirely abandoned by the NM movement. I’m one of them.

I’m not asking that everyone agree (though that would be nice, or that people stop struggling with this significant theological issue—but know that its more than an issue, and that there are some of us who are now struggling in a different way (not with integrating our sexuality and our faith, but with dealing with the Christian community that ignores or rejects us), and getting very exhausted by continually being left out of the conversation. Many of us were so excited when the New Monastic movement started—FINALLY, we thought, there is going to be a movement that cares about the radical things we care about–about social justice, about reconciliation, about Christian community. And, in many of ways, we were right. But, we didn’t expect that we weren’t going to be invited to the table.

I found the title of this blog post very illuminating–Will Christians Lead or Follow on Questions of Diversity? Sure, we’ve finally gotten around to talking about racial reconciliation—something many thoughtful people have been doing for a long time. But, the struggle for LGBT equality (or even voice) has been happening for a long time, yet gets nearly ignored in these conversations–in this case, completely ignored.

I worry that the answer to Beiler’s question is that we are following. I hope that this is not the case, and that, regardless of our personal beliefs, we can let ALL of those who have been ignored and marginalized into the conversation.”

So, after the advice of some friends, I wrote my pastor, letting him know what I felt. He just wrote back. Here is the email conversation. It gave me some hope.

My email:

Hey Tim,
I have been meaning to write you since Tuesday, but its been a busy week.
I just wanted to talk to you a little bit about text group on Tuesday. More specifically, I wanted to talk about what you said when we started talking about Richard Hays’ commentary on Corinthians. You may not even remember what you said, but, after I groaned, you said something along the lines of “he’s not a moron, he’s just wrong on that one issue.” Now, I’m with you–I agree that he’s not a moron (obviously), and thank you for conceding that he was wrong on this issue… but, I still felt pretty hurt by what you said. I’ve been thinking about it the last few days, and I wanted to at least let you know what I felt so that I stop letting it stew inside me. That one issue is more than just an issue to me–as much as I don’t want it to be, its a really big part of my life. When something prevents my friends from getting married, when it causes people to leave the church cause they don’t feel welcome, when it causes others to dismiss those people as ‘unfaithful’, when it gets me kicked out of graduate school (with Richard Hays’ chapter in Moral Vision being one of the main theological sources that the Wheaton provost looked to), I can’t help but see it as more than just one issue.
I’m sure that I’m sounding (and probably being) too sensitive. But, I had to tell you, perhaps cause I felt a bit silenced, and I guess I feel silenced at church quite a bit.
I’m not sure what I expect, or even hope for, out of this email. I just wanted to be honest. I hope this email finds you well, and that I don’t sound like a jerk, or like I’m bashing on E-Way, because that’s really not what I intended….
Peace,
Brandy

And here is his response:

Brandy,

Thanks so much for writing.  I really appreciate when folks are honest about their pain, especially with me.  My humor certainly gets me in trouble on occasion.  I had intended my Hays comment as banter — my way of saying, “I know you well enough to know how you would react when Dan mentioned his name.”  But I certainly understand how that could be an unintended yet painful barb
- overly reducing your opinion
- being cavalier about an issue that has defined your pain but has barely affected my life

I’m very sorry about that and will certainly try to be more sensitive in the future.

I would like to talk to you about your feeling silenced at EW.  How do you experience this — from what directions?  This is certainly not what we hope for.  I have thinking a bit about your comment a couple weeks ago in regards to hospitality.  You were having trouble identifying the source of the feeling that morning.  I would love to explore this more with you.

I hope that you know that your presence and friendship is one of the special parts of Emmaus Way for me.

Tim

This morning, like every Tuesday morning at 7 a.m., I went to text group. Text group is a small group of us at church who get together with the pastor to discuss the upcoming weeks sermon. The idea is to have the sermon be guided by diverse dialogue, as opposed to just one person’s opinion. It’s a smart idea, and I enjoy going, despite the fact that I’m really not that helpful, and find that I do not really say much at all, let alone much that’s productive and constructive.
This morning, we are at text group, talking about 1 Corinthians 15. Tim (the pastor) is trying to get a sense of how this concept of body-vs-spirit that Paul’s talking about (which we all seemed to agree was not the same type of dualism as its used today, but rather, Paul ‘speaking the language’ of the Hellenistic, Neo-Platonic Gentiles that he is trying to share the Gospel message with), can be understood and explained in our context, by people who aren’t Biblical scholars. He’s probing us for commentaries on this topic.
Dan, one of my favorite people at the church (I have favorites, not gonna lie there… not to mention, I don’t think anyone from church reads this blog, and those that I might suspect would, would probably also fall under the favorites category….) tells me, in jest, to close my ears, as he is going to say something I don’t like. He proceeds to recommend Richard Hays’ commentary on 1 Corinthians to Tim. I groan, like I always do when Hay’s comes up in a conversation on Biblical scholarship.

At this point, Tim quickly responds “Sheesh, Brandy, he’s not a moron, he just is wrong on this one issue,” and we move on, continuing to try to interpret and understand the text in front of us.

Fair enough. I get it. I know Richard Hays is a brilliant scholar.  And perhaps I’m not being charitable enough, or just too damn sensitive.

But this ‘one issue’ is one that effects my life every fucking day, whether I want it to or not. This ‘one issue’ is what  makes people believe that I am not a faithful Christian. This ‘one issue’ has prevented people in love from getting married, and has prevented people called to the ministry from being ordained. This ‘one issue’ has gotten people kicked out of seminaries (often with Hays’ Biblical interpretation of ‘this one issue’ as their theological guide), and has caused others to take their own lives. This is not just ‘one issue’ that sits on the sidelines and has little consequences on the Christian faith—this is people’s lives, this is my life.

Like I said, perhaps I’m being too sensitive. I’m almost sure that I am, and I know Tim did not mean it maliciously. But, Tim can push this aside as one issue among many, one place where people disagree on Biblical interpretation in an understandable way, one issue that becomes an abstraction that means little. I can’t. Because this ‘one issue’ is not all that I am (not even close), but, because of the theological reflections of people like Hays, becomes for people the sign of my faithfulness to God, or rather, my unfaithfulness. And that makes it a whole lot fucking more than “just one issue.”

“There are glimpses of it now;  small relief fit in when we allow ……even still, I think the best is yet to come…”- Johanna Chase, “Yet to Come,” Azusa

Such is the line from a song by a little indie artist by the name of Johanna Chase. Johanna’s music has impacted me in many ways lately, this song especially (scroll down to the bottom of this post if you want the full lyrics, its a beautiful song. Also, her song, “Get up Good” is, I think, a beautiful lyrical representation of Soren Kierkegaard’s, as de Silentio, idea of the virtue of the absurb being realized by infinite resignation in Fear & Trembling, but that’s a whole other story… you can, and should, check out her music at indiebug.com).

Anyways, that line of the song is what I have been thinking about lately, especially in light of today. Today was a good day, no, it was a great day. I’m too lazy and tired to explain that now, but, suffice it to say, it was the best day I’ve had since I’ve been back to Duke after the summer off.

Yet, as I got home tonight, happy and tired from a good day, I couldn’t help but be sad. As the reader, you may be confused. Wouldn’t happiness be a more appropriate emotion for such a good day? I would think so too, but my emotions told me otherwise, and after thinking about it for awhile, the line from Johanna’s song made me realize why.

Being a person who hasn’t had the best of….luck…., especially in the last year, a song about the best being yet to come brings with it a lot of encouragement and hope. And days like today, and other fleeting moments remind me of the reality of that hope, and keep it afloat. But, at the same time, knowing that days like today are…fleeting…is more than mildly depressing. Because that means that things are going to get shitty again before the ‘best’ comes, that the good is just that–fleeting. And that just sucks.

Yeah, the bad times of life make the good times really, really good–constant feelings of isolation makes the sense of solidarity that much more fantastic, a real treat. But, conversely, the occasional, fleeting good times make the hard times that much more frustrating and tiring. Or maybe I’m just too much of a pessimist and need to take the good for what it is.

::shrug::

Yet to Come- Johanna Chase, from Azusa

Car lights and city nights and I’m only trying to figure how a system might be build without stilts to fit us all under. Every system seems flawed, every politic jarred and stunted, but I still hope that something better is coming.

Maybe, its just my experience and maybe that’s all wrong. Maybe the poor choose to be poor and the homeless just want to roam, but even still I think the best is yet to come, the best is yet to come.

Home is comfortable and the food and the water are free, but even in my home town no one gets me. I feel like a prophet bringing some crazy news and the ears that hear it only hear the blues. Maybe, that’s just my experience, and maybe that’s all wrong. Maybe God is simple and life is simpler still, but even so, I think the best is yet to come, yea the best is yet to come.

Oh, and there are glimpses of it now; a small relief fit in when we allow the work of another something bright–it will soon take everything, gather up everything and make it right. I think the best is yet to come, yea the best is yet to come.

For those of you who don’t know, last year (March & April 2007), I participated in a thing called the Soulforce Equality Ride. The Soulforce Equality Ride is an annual tradition , modeled in the tradition of the Freedom Rides of the 1960’s, of young adult activists going to schools that have policies that discriminate against LGBT students, with three goals in mind: to engage in dialogue with school administrators about the injustices of their policies (which call for expulsion of openly gay students, and sometimes even expulsion or discipline for those who speak up for the rights of gay students), to serve as a support for open and closeted LGBT students at these schools, and to engage in constructive dialogue with students about homosexuality, scripture, and the church. Soulforce’s ideology behind these visits is to work with the university months in advance to develop a day or two of constructive dialogue with panel discussions, meetings with administrators, conversations over a meal, and more. A great deal of the time, the school and Soulforce will work together and it will end up beautifully.

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