Vegetables are like people….
They come in all shapes and sizes, and colors, and variations, and imperfections. Some are long and tall, some are short and stubby, some potatoes in fact have legs and arms and noses, some tomatoes are more oval than round, even when the species is supposed to be round…some vegetables have strange knobs and growths, some apples have many, many knots and holes and very few look like the ones in the grocery store. Just like people who also come in all shapes and sizes, with each different characteristic, of beautiful eyes and crooked teeth, or thin or thick hair, or perfect skin, or large ears. There is so much variation.
But the grocery stores try to tell you as well that vegetables come in one standard form of beauty. All tomatoes should be round and perfect, without blemish and firm. All lettuce leaves should be untouched by harmless holes that occur naturally by insects taking a small snack. All cucumbers should be roughly 8 inches long, have the same dark green shiny color and be straight or slightly curved. And all should be uniform size. And the grocery stores tell this to people, and industrial farms therefore produce this, at the cost of our environment and health and excessive waste, through pesticides, herbicides, and genetic engineering, as well as a streamlining of species marketable. Does this sound reminiscent to ideas of beauty on another plane?
We have also been told by the powers that be, that beauty in people is found in a small amount of standard forms: tall, thin bodies (or buff if male), flawless skin, full shiny hair, straight noses and full lips, large eyes. You see this in the magazines and on TV; they eliminate variation. This is beauty. This is what people are supposed to look like. And this is a very slim margin of diversity found in actual people! It is a recognized fact that there is a manipulation of sorts, and some people accept that this is true beauty, and others see it for what it is, and reject it as the standard of beauty for humanity.
While many people have taken the human beauty image hook line and sinker, others are more scrutinizing. Regarding human beauty, we see these images promoted by media, but we are brought back to reality every other second by seeing the diversity of people around us, on the bus, at restaurants, in classrooms, and experiencing the beauty of that diversity through our relationships. But most people are starting to believe ideas of vegetable beauty, because they have no contact with “vegetables in the wild.” Who works on a farm anymore and actually sees real produce? Who remembers that real fruit, just like real people, sometimes come with imperfections? We have one image of beauty in our, that put forth by grocery stores and agriculture companies. Vegetables of diversity, in their true state (and sweetness, good taste, and nutrition!) are blocked out of grocery stores because they don’t pass the image test. Important to remember that there are other types out there, just as beautiful, which taste just as sweet, and are just as (actually more) nutritious. And sometimes the vegetables with imperfections taste the sweetest.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
some thoughts on heaven
I've been thinking a lot about some ideas of heaven over the past few months. Not that nebulous idea of sky, or angels, or harps or a big mansion. Heaven is after all not a very concrete idea biblically, not being present in the judeo tradition.
I have sometimes thought about heaven being all those things that we wished could have happened in life but we didn’t get to. It lends itself as an answer for being sad or disappointed in life: "Well, that might be experienced, or is waiting for me in heaven" (or another life). If it can't be accomplished here on earth, then in my heaven I will have the beautiful French chateau with acres and acres of land and no visible power lines and a secret garden.
It is also all those moments that I envision in my head as perfection, and want to do, but don’t because of physical (or lazy!) constraints. It is all those evenings I plan or envision worshiping the Creator dancing in fields with fireflies around, candles lit in the branches of trees, an alter of flowers and stones and shells, and a soundtrack playing the music of all creation—(not actually possible on this earth)--but a vision of something I desire and want to do, the essence of me and my desire to worship. And I think, that will be my heaven, my heaven will be all of those beautiful and intricate moments that have lived in my head but not in reality, coming to pass and being made possible.
But there is also the idea of heaven as the every day moments or small beauties in this very life. It is the life we do get to, the things we experience and see around us, if we notice and take them in and see them as such. It is the dazzling color of the autumn leaves, the way a vine curves around a stone wall, the way the sunlight comes through glass and illuminates all the dust particles swirling around the air, immediately transforming something mundane into a mystical encounter, or, as Jim Wallis writes about recently on God’s Politics it is sitting between home and first, about 15 rows up from the field at Fenway Park for the opening game of the 2007 World Series. In a recent conference I attended at the Duke Divinity School, Wendell Berry and Wes Jackson described ideas of heaven, also touching on heaven being found in the now, rather than this nebulous idea put off for the future. Berry states something along the lines of, “I’d like to think about heaven as a byproduct of life well lived, rather than a destination or goal”(sic).
I wonder at the idea of heaven, and this idea of what it might be and how it is for each person, rather than being a tangible and concrete idea that is uniform and fact for everyone, is actually a construct that helps us through our lives. It takes some pressure off of us and it gives an outlet to that bit of sadness that is inevitable in life, which comes from not being able to accomplish all one wants in life, and not having life perfected. And, concurrently, it is also achievable in the here and now, through the appreciation of the small beauties of the moment. And in these senses the idea of heaven does serve a very important and good purpose, being achievable now and providing a hope that gives birth to contentment and fulfillment, and puts to sleep feelings of unfulfillment and wistfulness.
Monday, December 3, 2007
some ramblings loosely tied to ideas of checklists what makes someone a christian, voting, 'n other random stuff that hopefully stays somewha cohesive
No Religious Tests
by Diana Butler Bass
I couldn't help but be struck by a bizarre similarity in two back-to-back events this week: the YouTube/CNN Republican forum and the swearing in of Pakistan's President Musharaf broadcast by NPR. Although worlds apart, both demonstrated what happens when religion and politics mix in a less-than-productive way—the insistence on religious tests for holding office.
In the case of President Musharaf, he took the oath of office to a country with Islam as the state religion by swearing that he is a Muslim, upholding the oneness of God, and pledging allegiance to Allah. If we had formal religious tests for office holders in the U.S., this would be akin to being inaugurated as president by proclaiming one's Christianity, stating belief in the doctrine of the Trinity, and dedicating oneself to Jesus—essentially a doctrinal test for politicians.
Americans know that the second scenario is not likely to occur. Although the new president lays his (or her) hand on the Bible and references God, these ceremonial acts are interpreted according to individual conscience and imply no specific doctrinal content. Indeed, the Constitution the president swears to protect and defend outlawed religious tests for federal officials, and, during the early 1800s, individual states slowly ended local practice of religious requirements for public office. However, this formal Constitutional principle didn't stop the forum questioners from insisting upon some sort of informal religious test for their candidates. Several people asked about the theological beliefs (not even the more generic religious beliefs) of candidates on a wide range of issues and pointedly quizzed them on their views of the Bible.
Several years ago, I taught theology at a Christian college—a task that I disliked because the class almost always devolved into a sort of checklist of right opinion to get into heaven. The Republican forum reminded me of that experience. The candidates were required, down to specifically quoting scriptures, to "check off" the right religious answers in order to secure their party's bid for the nation's highest office. It is almost as if a politician will utter the magic words - "Jesus is my Savior" or "the Bible is true in all that it affirms" - millions of people will cast their vote for that candidate. While I do not doubt the sincerity of (most of) the answers, the whole exercise struck me as politically dubious.
Americans need to understand that the relationship between religion and politics is a malleable one - there are few clear-cut rules regarding their interplay. The U.S. is neither a "Christian Nation" in the way it is popularly interpreted, nor is it ruled by a rigid separation of church and state. Neither cultural war stereotype is entirely true or entirely false. Rather, when it comes to religion and politics, we live in a perpetual state of creative tension. Throughout our history, faith and politics have created an often nuanced interplay of fine and sometimes conflicting lines—an interplay that requires discernment on the part of politicians, courts, and voters.
As a serious Christian, it matters to me that the president of the U.S. is a moral person with a mature conscience, and that he or she brings broadly shared ethical insights (along with other insights) to political issues. It does not, however, matter by what tradition that moral conscience has been formed as long as the office holder supports the Constitution. In the U.S., broadly shared political ethics generally include such things as respect for all human persons, a commitment to national and global justice, and developing national capacities of happiness, freedom, and liberty for all citizens. This is not a religious creed or a Bible verse. These are commonly held values that we have struggled for throughout our history. In our context, these values arose originally from diverse Christian traditions, but today numerous American faith traditions can assent to them. Although the founders never imagined the variety of religions in the contemporary U.S., they nevertheless opened the door for a creative political pluralism in the 21st century. We should not be electing a theologian-in-chief. We need to elect a good president.
As a Christian, I also know that getting the answers right on a doctrinal test are no guarantee of a person's moral disposition or fitness for leadership. Indeed, one's orthodoxy can bear little relationship to one's practice of faith. Experience, vision, compassion, good leadership, and an ability to govern well are the only tests upon which Christians - or other religious folks - should vote.
Of course, voters have the right to ask about candidates' religious views, and politicians have the right to talk about those views. But when such rights verge on becoming a faith test, then we begin to sacrifice the wisdom of our political system in favor of a testimony that more rightly belongs in church. And a big part of that wisdom is that our president does not make theological affirmations that exclude millions of Americans on Inauguration Day.
Diana Butler Bass ( www.dianabutlerbass.com) is the author of Christianity for the Rest of Us (Harper One, 2006) and a regular blogger for God's Politics.
I really appreciate Bass's article on this topic, especially after hearing so much recently on the faith of the presidential candidates. Indeed this election is a faith-off, with religion and personal faith views playing a large part, much larger than in previous elections I've seen (although how old am I really...), and the Democratic candidates are just as eager to prove their personal faith as a positive point for election as the Republicans.
But actually, I think one reason this article resonates with me so much is this idea of the "checklist of faith." Bass points out how strange the scene seemed, where peoplee are asking the candidates pointed questions about intricate aspects of their doctrinal beliefs. Yes, as she points out, these aspects may not play a huge role in each candidates abillity to lead a nation. But even more than that, it makes me think about the idea of Christians focusing so much on the minute religious doctrine, and judging what it takes for you or I to be a Christian, actually a topic I've been mulling over a lot in the past six months.
Now, I come from a church with strong foundation denominational teaching, where doctrine and church philosophies are very important. And I understand doctrinal importance. Yet at the same time, recently, I've been coming from a place where I think, who am I to judge whether this person is Christian enough according to whether certain beliefs are checked off. Do they believe that the Bible is the full inspired word of god and take a literal understanding of each verse, or is it an inspired guideline for living which has to be understood in context? Do they think that each person's salvation is predestined, or open to free will? Do they believe that it is only through baptism that one is saved, or that if one turns away after one is saved are they still a Christian?
I am going through a very practical time in my faith, as opposed to, what, an intellectual? time. And sitting in some Sunday school classes recently, I was frustrated a bit by the discussion over whether in God's transcendence into the figure of Jesus, he gave up his power to omniscience and omnipotence at his birth, and at what point did he retrieve it for his adulthood or did he ever? "Well yes, because he walked through walls at one point." "Yes that does make things interesting." "And now if Jesus maintains his body, then is he now time constrained as he was on earth?" "And what does that mean then...how can he be interceding for every person's prayers to God the Father, if he still is constrained by time?" My initial reaction was, "Are you serious? does this matter? We will never, ever know all the apsects of God. That's the point! It's God. It's way bigger than anything we can ever understand, and it's not only pointless, but foolish to try to get our head around all these issues." It seems so futile. And...more to the point....it is not what is at hand. How does this (almost strikes me as scientific) understanding of nature and character of God aid our faith and walking out of it in our lives? I have to be honest that at this point in my life these details are not terribly immediate to me, although I can understand that they are fascinating topics for contemplation. But where I am right now, it strikes me as not seeing the forest for the trees.
More and more I am struck by this ability of each us to determine other people's salvation by what checks are ticked off our own lists of salvation. Each of us probably have lists in our heads or hearts, of what it is to be a Christian, and some are long, and some are short; some are detailed, and some are broad and wide. I have lately been distilling it down to more simple things. Do they love God. Are they living a life for him/her? Are they seeking to follow Christ's example in life and submitting to a life in worship and obedience to whatever God calls. Are they seeking to be Christ in their life. I was floored when one of my college professors sophomore year told us that when creeds are read in churches he does not recite along. While a strong Christian, he felt that a mass recitation of belief is not as important (or perhaps is detrimental) as the living out of one's faith. To him, salvation is not granted on a cerebral understanding or belief, but in the action that plays out in ones life. Action becomes reality, and words are just words. And that perspective was very helpful to me, and I had never heard it in the church before. Of course action does come out of belief. But checking off specific beliefs, many of which are cerebral, and actually don't make a difference whether we are following Christ through our lives and love, is not really the point of faith. Although it could be argued that it is the point of religion.
It is important to know what you believe. And there are some important qualifiers and pillars of belief. But perhaps it really is the translation of these important pillars into a life of faith that matters much more than the specific denominational beliefs and intricacies, and it is that truly makes you a Christian--one who follows Christ. But here we are again. With my own list of sorts. Who are we to have this checklist, where if a candidate reaches the bottom of the list, well then, they pass, they are a Christian, and now, bingo, they also receive our vote! I have gotten to a point where I cannot point someone out and say "they are a Christian" or "they are not a christian" or "they do or don't know God." It's a feeling of seeing the smallness of my role and position as a human, or humility, maybe, or a desire not to judge. I don't know. But is it not solely up God to judge, between that one person and God? At this point I would say so. But I, as one person, can continue to love and live a life for God, and be Christ here, and grown in my relationship with Him/Her alongside and in community with my fellow believers who are all doing the same thing...seeking God's face and living lives for God.
And now I realize that all that writing was certainly not in any logical linear fashion with point A, B, and C, and was more like talking in circles. But I have to abandon my frustration with not accomplishing the perfect Western paragraph, and embrace the fact that cycles and speaking cyclicly is also A-ok. But I apologize for all you linear argument readers out there! :)
Peace be apon you all in this Season.
by Diana Butler Bass
I couldn't help but be struck by a bizarre similarity in two back-to-back events this week: the YouTube/CNN Republican forum and the swearing in of Pakistan's President Musharaf broadcast by NPR. Although worlds apart, both demonstrated what happens when religion and politics mix in a less-than-productive way—the insistence on religious tests for holding office.
In the case of President Musharaf, he took the oath of office to a country with Islam as the state religion by swearing that he is a Muslim, upholding the oneness of God, and pledging allegiance to Allah. If we had formal religious tests for office holders in the U.S., this would be akin to being inaugurated as president by proclaiming one's Christianity, stating belief in the doctrine of the Trinity, and dedicating oneself to Jesus—essentially a doctrinal test for politicians.
Americans know that the second scenario is not likely to occur. Although the new president lays his (or her) hand on the Bible and references God, these ceremonial acts are interpreted according to individual conscience and imply no specific doctrinal content. Indeed, the Constitution the president swears to protect and defend outlawed religious tests for federal officials, and, during the early 1800s, individual states slowly ended local practice of religious requirements for public office. However, this formal Constitutional principle didn't stop the forum questioners from insisting upon some sort of informal religious test for their candidates. Several people asked about the theological beliefs (not even the more generic religious beliefs) of candidates on a wide range of issues and pointedly quizzed them on their views of the Bible.
Several years ago, I taught theology at a Christian college—a task that I disliked because the class almost always devolved into a sort of checklist of right opinion to get into heaven. The Republican forum reminded me of that experience. The candidates were required, down to specifically quoting scriptures, to "check off" the right religious answers in order to secure their party's bid for the nation's highest office. It is almost as if a politician will utter the magic words - "Jesus is my Savior" or "the Bible is true in all that it affirms" - millions of people will cast their vote for that candidate. While I do not doubt the sincerity of (most of) the answers, the whole exercise struck me as politically dubious.
Americans need to understand that the relationship between religion and politics is a malleable one - there are few clear-cut rules regarding their interplay. The U.S. is neither a "Christian Nation" in the way it is popularly interpreted, nor is it ruled by a rigid separation of church and state. Neither cultural war stereotype is entirely true or entirely false. Rather, when it comes to religion and politics, we live in a perpetual state of creative tension. Throughout our history, faith and politics have created an often nuanced interplay of fine and sometimes conflicting lines—an interplay that requires discernment on the part of politicians, courts, and voters.
As a serious Christian, it matters to me that the president of the U.S. is a moral person with a mature conscience, and that he or she brings broadly shared ethical insights (along with other insights) to political issues. It does not, however, matter by what tradition that moral conscience has been formed as long as the office holder supports the Constitution. In the U.S., broadly shared political ethics generally include such things as respect for all human persons, a commitment to national and global justice, and developing national capacities of happiness, freedom, and liberty for all citizens. This is not a religious creed or a Bible verse. These are commonly held values that we have struggled for throughout our history. In our context, these values arose originally from diverse Christian traditions, but today numerous American faith traditions can assent to them. Although the founders never imagined the variety of religions in the contemporary U.S., they nevertheless opened the door for a creative political pluralism in the 21st century. We should not be electing a theologian-in-chief. We need to elect a good president.
As a Christian, I also know that getting the answers right on a doctrinal test are no guarantee of a person's moral disposition or fitness for leadership. Indeed, one's orthodoxy can bear little relationship to one's practice of faith. Experience, vision, compassion, good leadership, and an ability to govern well are the only tests upon which Christians - or other religious folks - should vote.
Of course, voters have the right to ask about candidates' religious views, and politicians have the right to talk about those views. But when such rights verge on becoming a faith test, then we begin to sacrifice the wisdom of our political system in favor of a testimony that more rightly belongs in church. And a big part of that wisdom is that our president does not make theological affirmations that exclude millions of Americans on Inauguration Day.
Diana Butler Bass ( www.dianabutlerbass.com) is the author of Christianity for the Rest of Us (Harper One, 2006) and a regular blogger for God's Politics.
I really appreciate Bass's article on this topic, especially after hearing so much recently on the faith of the presidential candidates. Indeed this election is a faith-off, with religion and personal faith views playing a large part, much larger than in previous elections I've seen (although how old am I really...), and the Democratic candidates are just as eager to prove their personal faith as a positive point for election as the Republicans.
But actually, I think one reason this article resonates with me so much is this idea of the "checklist of faith." Bass points out how strange the scene seemed, where peoplee are asking the candidates pointed questions about intricate aspects of their doctrinal beliefs. Yes, as she points out, these aspects may not play a huge role in each candidates abillity to lead a nation. But even more than that, it makes me think about the idea of Christians focusing so much on the minute religious doctrine, and judging what it takes for you or I to be a Christian, actually a topic I've been mulling over a lot in the past six months.
Now, I come from a church with strong foundation denominational teaching, where doctrine and church philosophies are very important. And I understand doctrinal importance. Yet at the same time, recently, I've been coming from a place where I think, who am I to judge whether this person is Christian enough according to whether certain beliefs are checked off. Do they believe that the Bible is the full inspired word of god and take a literal understanding of each verse, or is it an inspired guideline for living which has to be understood in context? Do they think that each person's salvation is predestined, or open to free will? Do they believe that it is only through baptism that one is saved, or that if one turns away after one is saved are they still a Christian?
I am going through a very practical time in my faith, as opposed to, what, an intellectual? time. And sitting in some Sunday school classes recently, I was frustrated a bit by the discussion over whether in God's transcendence into the figure of Jesus, he gave up his power to omniscience and omnipotence at his birth, and at what point did he retrieve it for his adulthood or did he ever? "Well yes, because he walked through walls at one point." "Yes that does make things interesting." "And now if Jesus maintains his body, then is he now time constrained as he was on earth?" "And what does that mean then...how can he be interceding for every person's prayers to God the Father, if he still is constrained by time?" My initial reaction was, "Are you serious? does this matter? We will never, ever know all the apsects of God. That's the point! It's God. It's way bigger than anything we can ever understand, and it's not only pointless, but foolish to try to get our head around all these issues." It seems so futile. And...more to the point....it is not what is at hand. How does this (almost strikes me as scientific) understanding of nature and character of God aid our faith and walking out of it in our lives? I have to be honest that at this point in my life these details are not terribly immediate to me, although I can understand that they are fascinating topics for contemplation. But where I am right now, it strikes me as not seeing the forest for the trees.
More and more I am struck by this ability of each us to determine other people's salvation by what checks are ticked off our own lists of salvation. Each of us probably have lists in our heads or hearts, of what it is to be a Christian, and some are long, and some are short; some are detailed, and some are broad and wide. I have lately been distilling it down to more simple things. Do they love God. Are they living a life for him/her? Are they seeking to follow Christ's example in life and submitting to a life in worship and obedience to whatever God calls. Are they seeking to be Christ in their life. I was floored when one of my college professors sophomore year told us that when creeds are read in churches he does not recite along. While a strong Christian, he felt that a mass recitation of belief is not as important (or perhaps is detrimental) as the living out of one's faith. To him, salvation is not granted on a cerebral understanding or belief, but in the action that plays out in ones life. Action becomes reality, and words are just words. And that perspective was very helpful to me, and I had never heard it in the church before. Of course action does come out of belief. But checking off specific beliefs, many of which are cerebral, and actually don't make a difference whether we are following Christ through our lives and love, is not really the point of faith. Although it could be argued that it is the point of religion.
It is important to know what you believe. And there are some important qualifiers and pillars of belief. But perhaps it really is the translation of these important pillars into a life of faith that matters much more than the specific denominational beliefs and intricacies, and it is that truly makes you a Christian--one who follows Christ. But here we are again. With my own list of sorts. Who are we to have this checklist, where if a candidate reaches the bottom of the list, well then, they pass, they are a Christian, and now, bingo, they also receive our vote! I have gotten to a point where I cannot point someone out and say "they are a Christian" or "they are not a christian" or "they do or don't know God." It's a feeling of seeing the smallness of my role and position as a human, or humility, maybe, or a desire not to judge. I don't know. But is it not solely up God to judge, between that one person and God? At this point I would say so. But I, as one person, can continue to love and live a life for God, and be Christ here, and grown in my relationship with Him/Her alongside and in community with my fellow believers who are all doing the same thing...seeking God's face and living lives for God.
And now I realize that all that writing was certainly not in any logical linear fashion with point A, B, and C, and was more like talking in circles. But I have to abandon my frustration with not accomplishing the perfect Western paragraph, and embrace the fact that cycles and speaking cyclicly is also A-ok. But I apologize for all you linear argument readers out there! :)
Peace be apon you all in this Season.
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