Saturday, August 23, 2008
The Crucial Geek Vote?
Umm...why is Gordon Smith advertising during Stargate Atlantis on the SciFi channel?
Friday, August 22, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Power of Opera
A while back a co-worker told me that while driving around in the car scanning radio stations, she inadvertently landed on the classical channel. “What is that?” her four year old daughter wanted to know. “Oh, that’s opera,” she said, skipping onward. “No, no, turn it back!” the little girl demanded. So they listened to opera in the car.
When they got home, the girl made her try to find more opera on the radio.
I thought this was a nice story, so when I got home I created a CD that I called “Opera for Princesses” – mostly a hit parade of soprano arias – that I thought a four year old might enjoy. (Mind you, I have high expectations of four year olds.)
Here’s the playlist:
1. “O mio babbino caro,” Gianni Schicchi, by Giacomo Puccini (Renata Tebaldi)
2. “Viens, Mallika” (‘Flower Duet’), Lakmé, by Leo Delibes (Mady Mesplé & Danielle Millet)
3. “Sempre libera,” La Traviata, by Giuseppe Verdi (Renata Scotto)
4. “Habañera,” Carmen, by Georges Bizet (Tatiana Troyanos)
5. “Mesicku na nebi hlubokem,” Rusalka, by Antonin Dvorak (Gabriela Benackova)
6. “Quando m’en vo,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Kiri te Kanawa)
7. “Mi chiamano Mimi,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Angela Gheorghiu)
8. “Der Hölle Rache,” Die Zauberflöte, by W. A. Mozart (Edda Moser)
9. “Vissi d’arte,” Tosca, by Giacomo Puccini (Maria Callas)
10. “Je veux vivre,” Roméo et Juliette, by Charles Gounod (Ruth Ann Swenson)
11. “Caro nome,” Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi (Daniela Lojarro*)
12. “Liebestod,” Tristan und Isolde, by Richard Wagner (Hildegard Behrens)
13. “D’Oreste, d’Ajace,” Idomeneo, by W. A. Mozart (Carol Vaness)
14. “Un bel di,” Madama Butterfly, by Giacomo Puccini (Mirella Freni)
15. “Glitter and be Gay,” Candide, by Leonard Bernstein (Dawn Upshaw)
16. “Non più mesta,” La Cenerentola, by Gioachino Rossini (Cecilia Bartoli)
So, yeah, not all the subject material here is appropriate for preschool-age children, I’ll grant you that, and it’s possibly not the most diverse range of music I could have come up with, but I was aiming for things that were tuneful yet also conveyed a sense of drama without needing context. I also imagined the girl, some years from now, listening to a commercial or seeing a movie and thinking, “Hey…I know that!” (We can debate my choice of singers…but I stand by them.)
I ran into the co-worker again today, who had an update for me. Apparently the little girl listens to the CD every night. Last night they went to check on her, and she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” her mom wanted to know.
“This song makes me sad,” the girl replied.
Score.
* Y’all probably have never heard of Daniela Lojarro, and I haven’t really, either. It’s from one of those budget LaserLight CD’s, but it’s the most amazing recording of “Caro nome,” if you can find it. She takes the high E-natural at the end, floats it effortlessly and manages a flawless diminuendo into nothingness.
When they got home, the girl made her try to find more opera on the radio.
I thought this was a nice story, so when I got home I created a CD that I called “Opera for Princesses” – mostly a hit parade of soprano arias – that I thought a four year old might enjoy. (Mind you, I have high expectations of four year olds.)
Here’s the playlist:
1. “O mio babbino caro,” Gianni Schicchi, by Giacomo Puccini (Renata Tebaldi)
2. “Viens, Mallika” (‘Flower Duet’), Lakmé, by Leo Delibes (Mady Mesplé & Danielle Millet)
3. “Sempre libera,” La Traviata, by Giuseppe Verdi (Renata Scotto)
4. “Habañera,” Carmen, by Georges Bizet (Tatiana Troyanos)
5. “Mesicku na nebi hlubokem,” Rusalka, by Antonin Dvorak (Gabriela Benackova)
6. “Quando m’en vo,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Kiri te Kanawa)
7. “Mi chiamano Mimi,” La Bohème, by Giacomo Puccini (Angela Gheorghiu)
8. “Der Hölle Rache,” Die Zauberflöte, by W. A. Mozart (Edda Moser)
9. “Vissi d’arte,” Tosca, by Giacomo Puccini (Maria Callas)
10. “Je veux vivre,” Roméo et Juliette, by Charles Gounod (Ruth Ann Swenson)
11. “Caro nome,” Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi (Daniela Lojarro*)
12. “Liebestod,” Tristan und Isolde, by Richard Wagner (Hildegard Behrens)
13. “D’Oreste, d’Ajace,” Idomeneo, by W. A. Mozart (Carol Vaness)
14. “Un bel di,” Madama Butterfly, by Giacomo Puccini (Mirella Freni)
15. “Glitter and be Gay,” Candide, by Leonard Bernstein (Dawn Upshaw)
16. “Non più mesta,” La Cenerentola, by Gioachino Rossini (Cecilia Bartoli)
So, yeah, not all the subject material here is appropriate for preschool-age children, I’ll grant you that, and it’s possibly not the most diverse range of music I could have come up with, but I was aiming for things that were tuneful yet also conveyed a sense of drama without needing context. I also imagined the girl, some years from now, listening to a commercial or seeing a movie and thinking, “Hey…I know that!” (We can debate my choice of singers…but I stand by them.)
I ran into the co-worker again today, who had an update for me. Apparently the little girl listens to the CD every night. Last night they went to check on her, and she was crying.
“What’s wrong?” her mom wanted to know.
“This song makes me sad,” the girl replied.
Score.
* Y’all probably have never heard of Daniela Lojarro, and I haven’t really, either. It’s from one of those budget LaserLight CD’s, but it’s the most amazing recording of “Caro nome,” if you can find it. She takes the high E-natural at the end, floats it effortlessly and manages a flawless diminuendo into nothingness.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Well, That Answers That
I've mentioned before that my father and I shy away from any kind of substantive discussions, especially about religion. (Brief summary for the uninitiated: he's a born-again Baptist and I'm a gay Episcopalian.)
Years ago he filled my head with all kinds of nonsense about Revelation and Biblical "prophecy" and "the Rapture" and whatnot, and only recently did I find the courage to look again at the marvelous last book of the New Testament and begin to explore what's really there. Some of my father's views have moderated a bit over time (he has stopped inquiring about my dress size and plans on voting for Obama this fall -- mostly because he has come to see that Iraq was a boondoggle of criminal dimension), but I've often wondered if he still held the same views about "the Antichrist" and all that.
Presently, he is on a solo bike tour of Oregon; he called me from a campground about 30 miles from Chemult (where?) to check in and let me know he's all right.
"Did we invade Russia, yet?" he asked.
"No, no, we're still talking that over," I said. Then, perhaps rather stupidly, I said, "Besides, everyone knows that Iran is next."
"I was kind of hoping Israel would take out Iran," said my father.
"Hmm...I'm not sure that's something we should really be hoping for."
"Well, it would mean that Christ's return is imminent, that's for sure."
Sigh.
Years ago he filled my head with all kinds of nonsense about Revelation and Biblical "prophecy" and "the Rapture" and whatnot, and only recently did I find the courage to look again at the marvelous last book of the New Testament and begin to explore what's really there. Some of my father's views have moderated a bit over time (he has stopped inquiring about my dress size and plans on voting for Obama this fall -- mostly because he has come to see that Iraq was a boondoggle of criminal dimension), but I've often wondered if he still held the same views about "the Antichrist" and all that.
Presently, he is on a solo bike tour of Oregon; he called me from a campground about 30 miles from Chemult (where?) to check in and let me know he's all right.
"Did we invade Russia, yet?" he asked.
"No, no, we're still talking that over," I said. Then, perhaps rather stupidly, I said, "Besides, everyone knows that Iran is next."
"I was kind of hoping Israel would take out Iran," said my father.
"Hmm...I'm not sure that's something we should really be hoping for."
"Well, it would mean that Christ's return is imminent, that's for sure."
Sigh.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
No, Wait; Second Worst Vacation Ever
It occurred to me that the worst vacation I ever took was a trip to Victoria, B.C., with my father when I was 16, in a risky attempt to repair our relationship after I came out. He asked me, "So...am I supposed to start buying you dresses for your birthday?"
I didn't speak to him for about a year and a half after that.
I didn't speak to him for about a year and a half after that.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Worst. Vacation. Ever.
So it turned out that the only thing I took with me on my fabulous August beach trip that proved to be even less useful than the condoms (hey...you never know!) was sunscreen.
It's been a busy, stressful summer and I haven't taken any time off, so I've been dying for a little "me" time to go hide somewhere and decompress. After church on Sunday, I drove out to Waldport, eager for some long walks on the beach and quiet time in prayer and meditation.
Okay, well...first, it immediately became apparent why the Howard Johnson had vacancies in mid-August. As Elizabeth Taylor said in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, "What a dump." Don't get me wrong: I wasn't expecting the Four Seasons, but wow, that place is long overdue for some fresh paint and some general maintenance. It might not kill them to pick up the trash in the grassy area between the hotel and the bay or clean the leaves out of the pool, either...not that it was warm or dry enough to go in the pool. Ahem.
I mean, sure, the room was clean. And by clean, I mean, it had this overpoweringly chemical "clean" smell that gave me a headache and made me sick to my stomach. Fortunately I had a sliding door with a screen...that opened up onto the "pet area." Watch where you step.
About 5 minutes after I arrived, fog as thick as pea soup rolled in and you couldn't even see across the street. I had planned on driving down to a decent restaurant in Yachats (there's not much in Waldport), but I looked at the fog and figured maybe I should stay local. I thought I would investigate the "Ahi Grill" on site at the hotel.
You can't really see what the restaurant looks like from the lobby; you have to go down a hall and around a corner and bang you're suddenly in the dining room, which is about the most depressing little excuse for a "restaurant" I've ever seen. But the waitress pounced and said, "One for dinner?" and I just didn't have the heart to say, "Oh, dear God, no," so instead I said, "Yes, please," with a sinking feeling in my gut. Ahi might be Hawaiian for tuna, but it's also Italian for "ouch."
The menu was depressingly limited; I had settled on the fettuccine alfredo with chicken, but just then the same dish was brought to the woman sitting at the table next to me, and it was far more food than I could possibly eat (and didn't look that great) so when the waitress came I asked for a burger and fries. ($6.95)
So, look, I just wanted to have a quiet dinner alone staring at the bay. Some people might find that depressing, I guess, but I think it's relaxing. Unfortunately, the tourists on either side of me had other ideas; they were the types that like to chat up strangers.
First they remarked on the weather, a reasonable enough starting point, and complained that it was 60, dark and rainy in the middle of August. (Hey, welcome to Oregon; you take your chances.) This prompted one man to say, "Yeah, global warming my foot, what a joke." To which the other table rejoined, "That's right, up in Spokane we had the coldest winter anyone can remember this year." And thus I found myself surrounded by global warming deniers. "It's just a plot so some people can make money." "Yeah, Al Gore -- he has a huge house and I heard he drives three humvees!"
Let's see...the Spokaners complained about how Governor Chris Gregoire "stole" the election from Dino Rossi, then they all commiserated about high taxes and moaned that Barack Obama wants to give us "Canadian" healthcare, "even though everyone knows Canada has the worst healthcare in the world." Naturally then we had to gravitate to Iraq, and it was generally agreed upon that "the Iraqi people are tremendously grateful we are there" and that "the liberal media" simply refuses to report the good news. The oldest man in the group then remarked, "Iran is next, mark my words. Just read Revelation, it's all there."
By this time my blood was positively boiling and the Revelation remark was the last straw. You read Revelation, you butthead. I held my tongue, though (see James 1:19-20) and instead said, "Can I get the check?" I didn't have anything to drink with my dinner because I'd brought along a bottle of Oregon Pinot Noir that was waiting for me back in the room; and it's a good thing, too, or I might just have told them off. Instead I wished them all a peaceful visit to Oregon.
About that wine: as I was shopping for the trip, I came across a new label, Anam Cara Cellars, and with my recent introduction to Celtic Christianity, I took that as a sign. Well...it's awful. Tart, no body, with strong hints of pickle. Gross.
It was only 7:00 and I was still mad, so I decided I'd go for a walk on the beach, even though it was windy and foggy. Alas, there is only one public access route to the beach from the hotel, and I hadn't gone very far past it when I realized it was already lost in the fog and growing darker. A storm was coming, so I turned around and went back to the room, cold, wet, sand-encrusted and depressed.
I decided to take the old fart's advice and read Revelation. All of it, so that I could feel justified about my self-righteous indignation. And it made me madder still, because it's actually quite wonderful and there's really nothing in there about Iran; it's about Rome. Anyone with seven heads and ten horns can see that.
A thunderstorm rolled in and, there being nothing else for it, I turned out the lights, reclined on the bed and watched. This was nice for about two hours, but then I felt really tired and wanted to actually sleep. I would drift off for about 10 minutes and then awake again to another window-rattling blast of thunder. The storm finally passed about 3:00.
I awoke about six and lay in bed debating with myself about whether I should try to get more sleep or get up and take advantage of the day; at 6:45 I rose and went for a walk on the beach, which was definitely the highlight of the entire trip. Got some great pictures -- see below -- until flashes of lightning appeared over the ocean and I decided I'd better high-tail it off the beach and get some breakfast.
After morning prayer I hopped in the car and drove down to Yachats to get coffee at the Green Salmon, which has amazing coffee and pastries and boy, if you dared insult Al Gore at the Green Salmon, you'd probably be thrown out. My kind of place.They are closed on Mondays.
After sitting in the car in the parking lot in the rain for about three minutes chanting, "No! Fuck. No! Fuck. Fu-u-uck!!!!" I figured I might as well drive down to the Fred Meyer just north of Florence and go to the Starbucks there.
Ummm...I misjudged the distance. It's like 25 miles.
And the Florence Fred Meyer does not have a Starbucks.
They do have an imitation Starbucks. There were two customers in line ahead of me, which meant I stood there for 12 minutes until I got to order. (Yes, I counted.) I asked for a large coffee and a low-fat marionberry muffin. "Okay, sir, just so you know, the muffins just got delivered so it might still be a little bit cold, is that all right?" "Sure," I said.
Cold? Fucker was frozen. I'm serious. It was cold, wet and mushy on the outside and muffin-ice at the core. Also the coffee was weak and tasted like cigarettes. Within an hour I had a "you have not had coffee yet" headache.
It was raining.
At this point I decided it was time to give up and go home.
You know, the Oregon Coast is wonderful, even in inclement weather. All it takes is a good bottle of wine, a comfy chair and a marvelous view. Well...three strikes. I was outta there. I drove back to the hotel, told them I had changed my plans and asked for a refund for the second night.
The good news is, I got 37.25 mpg in the new car.
* * * * *
The day looked like it maybe had some promise; sunrise over Alsea Bay.
Alone on the beach; perfect.
The tide was definitely out; have you ever seen a beach so broad?
Kind of hard to tell, but these are pelicans.
A great blue heron.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
As Paris Hilton Would Say, "Hot."
Okay...so, today is the third triple-digit day in a row for Portland, which is highly unusual. We usually see 100 degrees somewhere in August, but this is a little intense. Fortunately it's slated to drop to the upper 80s tomorrow and the low '70s on Monday.
Still, in the meantime, there's no question about the most popular spot in the apartment.
I have not (yet) taken a single vacation day this entire summer (too much to do!), but Thursday morning between fits of feeling like I wanted to cry I decided maybe I should ask for Monday off. I found a cheap hotel room for tomorrow and Monday night out at the coast, so I'm just going to drive out after church, spend the night, and then take all day Monday to do, oh, nothing.A while back I promised you a live-blogging roadtrip event for Hermiston, Oregon's first-ever Gay Pride. Umm...I didn't really get around to that. Co-traveler SMB live-blogged (as best he could, given spotty wireless access) on the JustOut webpage -- read here for details. (No, I did not go with him to the strip club. Honest.)
Here's where we stayed. "Tillicum" is a ubiquitous local Native American word, but I have no idea what it means. I confess that, churchgoer that I am, I picked the motel for its dirty, punny connotation. (And the $50/night rate...which, I have to say, was possibly a little inflated, given the amenities.)
Actually, we had a great time. For dinner Friday night, we ate at the first-ever Shari's Restaurant, which was founded in Hermiston, and had truly excellent table service. Breakfast the next morning was at a new restaurant in Umatilla (home of a chemical weapons dump), and while the waffle was excellent, the water was not; and I think the waitress was not entirely sure what to make of two men not in cowboy hats who whiled away the time until the food came by browsing the restaurant's antiques for sale.
Afterward I followed SMB around for some [wo]man-on-the-street interviews, and ended up buying some homemade lavender soap from a friendly, gray-haired lady who said, "It's okay with me if people choose to be gay [!!!], but I don't think Hermiston is ready for any 'New-York-style' protests." I don't think she has anything at all to worry about. As we walked away, SMB remarked that he wasn't sure she even comprehended that we ourselves were queers, despite the fact that I'd talked to her about living in New York and yoga and...well, I bought a lavender soap from her.
"Hermiston Pride" never really got off the ground. First, I guess "Pride" was judged to be a tad ambitious, so it was retitled "Equality Day." The "event" was co-hosted by Western Farm Workers and the Society of Friends, who were there to protest the Iraq war (and had an amazingly powerful Tibetan prayer-flag display).
Hermiston was represented by the local organizer, his mother, and one 18 year old girl who came up to me and said, "So...are you...G, L, T, B...?" I smiled and said, "Oh, I'm G, very, very G." She smiled back and said, "I'm B...which stands for 'bitch.'" I liked her immediately and immensely. Aside from that, the entire turnout consisted of two guys from local organizations in Portland (one of whom was beautiful but clad in a most unfortunate hawaiian-print shirt), a lesbian MCC minister from the Tri-Cities (Pasco/Richland/Kennewick), SMB from JustOut, and a reporter from Spokane's local gay paper. I don't think a single random person from the greater Hermiston metropolitan area even came by. I snapped this picture of a rainbow flag in the park where 'pride' was held because it seemed to me to perfectly encapsulate the flaccid nature of the entire day.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Because the Sanctity of Marriage Needs Defending From the Gays...
You can't make this stuff up. Well, I guess you could, but you'd have to be brilliant. From the Oregonian:
Clackamas rape report turns out to be consensual bondage
by The OregonianThursday August 07, 2008, 11:00 AM
CLACKAMAS -- A man and woman arrested Wednesday night in a reported rape turned out to be engaging in consensual bondage sex after meeting through a Craigslist on-line bulletin board.
Detective Jim Strovink, Clackamas County sheriff's spokesman, said a homeless woman spotted the couple and called police, believing the bound woman was being raped. When deputies arrived, the couple ran.
Deputies then called a K-9 unit and used tracking dogs to catch the couple -- fully clothed. The couple, a Milwaukie man and a Portland woman, were booked into the Clackamas County Jail on accusations of public indecency, disorderly conduct and criminal trespass.
The man told deputies he ran because he didn't want his wife to find out.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The Antichrist is a White Male Evangelical Christian in his 60's from Sullivan County, Indiana, Who Drives a Blue 1998 Nissan Sentra
Is Barack Obama the Antichrist?
Short answer: no, long answer: what kind of biblically illiterate douchebag asks such a question?
Last week, the McCain campaign released an ad that purports to mock Obama's alleged "messiah" status with his followers (who would be, according to any and all available polling, a majority of the nation), but numerous observers have noted that, as Eric Sapp of The Eleison Group puts it, "If the McCain camp was trying to spoof Obama as Messiah, they missed a number of more obvious images and did a very poor job with this ad. If they were trying to draw parallels to Obama as Antichrist, they nailed it."
I continue to be appalled, saddened, infuriated and frightened that so many people insist on pushing the myth of "the Antichrist" while citing a "literal" interpretation of the Bible. A genuinely literal reading of the handful of relevant passages -- all from the first and second epistles of John -- would require one to acknowledge that "even now many antichrists have come."
So despite the fact that by the end of the first century the apostle John (as the tradition of authorship holds) is telling us that multiple antichrists are already in the world, many people today are on the lookout for "the One."
In an article for Time rife with errors on the Barack-as-Antichrist meme, Amy Sullivan points to a chain e-mail currently in circulation that "claims that the Antichrist was prophesied to be "a man in his 40s of MUSLIM descent."
Here is where Sullivan truly misses the boat. She points out that "the Book of Revelation was written at least 400 years before the birth of Islam." It's more like 500, but that's irrelevant, especially since the point here is that End Timers assert that Revelation predicts the future. First, the phrase "the Antichrist" is not found in Revelation, nor in Daniel, another apocalyptic writing she points to but messes up the reference. She refuses to call the bluff of the literalists who insist the Bible says what it plainly does not say.
In one particularly embarrassing instance, Sullivan compares Barack Obama to the description of the Antichrist (in the character of Nicolae Carpathia) in the popular (and nonsensical and heretical) Left Behind novels of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins; in one sentence she gets multiple facts wrong about both Carpathia and Obama.
Here, though, is where she could really have gone in for the kill and written a great piece. In a predictably excellent post on the McCain ad, Slacktivist quotes LaHaye himself (via The Wall Street Journal) debunking the Obama rumors: "The Antichrist isn't going to be an American, so it can't possibly be Obama. The Bible makes it clear he will be from an obscure place, like Romania." [Emphasis mine.]
How is it that if the Bible is so clear on the identity of the Antichrist, no one agrees on who it is?
Jerry Falwell insisted that the Antichrist would be Jewish.
Others say he will be homosexual. (I guess that's not mutually exclusive.)
Historically, the favorite candidate has been the Pope.
Maybe it's Putin. Or Ahmedinejad. Or Suri Cruise. Here's an article that claims the Pope says George W. Bush is the Antichrist.
And all of this absurdity is pushed by people who insist they're just reading the Bible "literally."
The real story here isn't that some people think Barack Obama is the Antichrist; it's that the "Rapture" and "the Antichrist" are extra-biblical myths hawked by charlatans -- false prophets, if you will -- who distort Scripture to support their own secular agendas and call it "literalism."
Short answer: no, long answer: what kind of biblically illiterate douchebag asks such a question?
Last week, the McCain campaign released an ad that purports to mock Obama's alleged "messiah" status with his followers (who would be, according to any and all available polling, a majority of the nation), but numerous observers have noted that, as Eric Sapp of The Eleison Group puts it, "If the McCain camp was trying to spoof Obama as Messiah, they missed a number of more obvious images and did a very poor job with this ad. If they were trying to draw parallels to Obama as Antichrist, they nailed it."
I continue to be appalled, saddened, infuriated and frightened that so many people insist on pushing the myth of "the Antichrist" while citing a "literal" interpretation of the Bible. A genuinely literal reading of the handful of relevant passages -- all from the first and second epistles of John -- would require one to acknowledge that "even now many antichrists have come."
So despite the fact that by the end of the first century the apostle John (as the tradition of authorship holds) is telling us that multiple antichrists are already in the world, many people today are on the lookout for "the One."
In an article for Time rife with errors on the Barack-as-Antichrist meme, Amy Sullivan points to a chain e-mail currently in circulation that "claims that the Antichrist was prophesied to be "a man in his 40s of MUSLIM descent."
Here is where Sullivan truly misses the boat. She points out that "the Book of Revelation was written at least 400 years before the birth of Islam." It's more like 500, but that's irrelevant, especially since the point here is that End Timers assert that Revelation predicts the future. First, the phrase "the Antichrist" is not found in Revelation, nor in Daniel, another apocalyptic writing she points to but messes up the reference. She refuses to call the bluff of the literalists who insist the Bible says what it plainly does not say.
In one particularly embarrassing instance, Sullivan compares Barack Obama to the description of the Antichrist (in the character of Nicolae Carpathia) in the popular (and nonsensical and heretical) Left Behind novels of Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins; in one sentence she gets multiple facts wrong about both Carpathia and Obama.
Here, though, is where she could really have gone in for the kill and written a great piece. In a predictably excellent post on the McCain ad, Slacktivist quotes LaHaye himself (via The Wall Street Journal) debunking the Obama rumors: "The Antichrist isn't going to be an American, so it can't possibly be Obama. The Bible makes it clear he will be from an obscure place, like Romania." [Emphasis mine.]
How is it that if the Bible is so clear on the identity of the Antichrist, no one agrees on who it is?
Jerry Falwell insisted that the Antichrist would be Jewish.
Others say he will be homosexual. (I guess that's not mutually exclusive.)
Historically, the favorite candidate has been the Pope.
Maybe it's Putin. Or Ahmedinejad. Or Suri Cruise. Here's an article that claims the Pope says George W. Bush is the Antichrist.
And all of this absurdity is pushed by people who insist they're just reading the Bible "literally."
The real story here isn't that some people think Barack Obama is the Antichrist; it's that the "Rapture" and "the Antichrist" are extra-biblical myths hawked by charlatans -- false prophets, if you will -- who distort Scripture to support their own secular agendas and call it "literalism."
Monday, August 04, 2008
Ugandan Archbishop on Homosexuality and the Church
On Friday, the Archbishop of the Church of Uganda, Henry Luke Orombi, published an Op-Ed in the London Times attempting to explain why he and the other Ugandan bishops boycotted this year’s Lambeth Conference.
The issue, as Archbishop Orombi sees it, is the Episcopal Church’s consecration of an openly gay bishop and the blessing of same-sex unions. “The American decision disregarded biblical authority by violating clear biblical teaching against homosexual behaviour,” he says.
“Even though some scholars have tried to explain away specific biblical passages that refer to homosexual practice,” he continues, “the fact remains that nowhere in Scripture is homosexual practice affirmed or presented as a legitimate alternative to heterosexual relationships.”
This is cowardice; he accuses the Episcopal Church of blithely ignoring “biblical authority” and yet declines to engage the scholarship he acknowledges, the scholarship that shows plainly that biblical teaching on homosexuality is anything but “clear.”
Let’s take a look at Orombi’s own approach to Scripture. As justification for shirking his responsibility to the global communion by refusing to engage the subject in person with other professing Christians, he writes, “The Bible says: ‘Can two walk together unless they are agreed?’”
“The Bible” says no such thing.
Anytime anyone cites a solitary verse free of any context – known as “proof texting” – mental red flags should go up. I was unfamiliar with this one, so I had to do an internet search. It turns out that’s Amos 3:3, in the New King James Version. Other translations render it differently. The New International Version has it as “Do two walk together unless they have agreed to do so?” and the more academic NRSV puts it, “Do two walk together unless they have made an appointment?” The English Standard says, “Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?”
Orombi clearly intends for us to take away that the Bible “says” that people are forbidden or at least discouraged from meeting for any purpose unless they are in total agreement about everything; at least, that’s his defense for playing hooky from Lambeth. But that’s not even how the cited verse (in one variation) reads. Amos is asking, albeit perhaps rhetorically. But there is an answer to the question, and it’s clearly “yes.”
Just today – and I am not making this up – I chanced upon a co-worker as I was heading back to the office from lunch. We hadn’t planned to meet, and yet we walked together probably a quarter of a mile or so across the corporate campus to our building. He’s a Mormon, and I’m a gay Episcopalian, so clearly our theologies aren’t going to be in total agreement. Yet we walked together amiably enough.
What else does Amos ask in this passage? “Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey?” Umm…it might. Why not? “Does disaster befall a city, unless the Lord has done it?” (Jesus had a different take on urban disasters.)
Instead of smacking millions of prayerful, conscientious (and biblically literate) Episcopalians across the face with a single (questionably translated) verse ripped from its context and misrepresented as a commandment rather than an open question, perhaps Archbishop Orombi would want to sit with the 14th chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans for a while and get back to us.
The issue, as Archbishop Orombi sees it, is the Episcopal Church’s consecration of an openly gay bishop and the blessing of same-sex unions. “The American decision disregarded biblical authority by violating clear biblical teaching against homosexual behaviour,” he says.
“Even though some scholars have tried to explain away specific biblical passages that refer to homosexual practice,” he continues, “the fact remains that nowhere in Scripture is homosexual practice affirmed or presented as a legitimate alternative to heterosexual relationships.”
This is cowardice; he accuses the Episcopal Church of blithely ignoring “biblical authority” and yet declines to engage the scholarship he acknowledges, the scholarship that shows plainly that biblical teaching on homosexuality is anything but “clear.”
Let’s take a look at Orombi’s own approach to Scripture. As justification for shirking his responsibility to the global communion by refusing to engage the subject in person with other professing Christians, he writes, “The Bible says: ‘Can two walk together unless they are agreed?’”
“The Bible” says no such thing.
Anytime anyone cites a solitary verse free of any context – known as “proof texting” – mental red flags should go up. I was unfamiliar with this one, so I had to do an internet search. It turns out that’s Amos 3:3, in the New King James Version. Other translations render it differently. The New International Version has it as “Do two walk together unless they have agreed to do so?” and the more academic NRSV puts it, “Do two walk together unless they have made an appointment?” The English Standard says, “Do two walk together, unless they have agreed to meet?”
Orombi clearly intends for us to take away that the Bible “says” that people are forbidden or at least discouraged from meeting for any purpose unless they are in total agreement about everything; at least, that’s his defense for playing hooky from Lambeth. But that’s not even how the cited verse (in one variation) reads. Amos is asking, albeit perhaps rhetorically. But there is an answer to the question, and it’s clearly “yes.”
Just today – and I am not making this up – I chanced upon a co-worker as I was heading back to the office from lunch. We hadn’t planned to meet, and yet we walked together probably a quarter of a mile or so across the corporate campus to our building. He’s a Mormon, and I’m a gay Episcopalian, so clearly our theologies aren’t going to be in total agreement. Yet we walked together amiably enough.
What else does Amos ask in this passage? “Does a lion roar in the forest, when it has no prey?” Umm…it might. Why not? “Does disaster befall a city, unless the Lord has done it?” (Jesus had a different take on urban disasters.)
Instead of smacking millions of prayerful, conscientious (and biblically literate) Episcopalians across the face with a single (questionably translated) verse ripped from its context and misrepresented as a commandment rather than an open question, perhaps Archbishop Orombi would want to sit with the 14th chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans for a while and get back to us.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Archbishop Misses
Walking with Integrity has published the transcript of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s “Presidential Address” given today for the bishops of the Anglican Communion gathered at Lambeth in the UK.
As has been widely covered in the media, the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference has been closely monitored for signs of a rift in the global church over the issue of homosexuality, especially the consecration of openly-gay Bishop Gene Robinson of the Diocese of New Hampshire and the increasingly widespread pastoral practice of blessing same-sex unions throughout the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada.
This is not a new controversy. Resolutions in previous Lambeth meetings have repeatedly called for a “listening” process, in which the global community is supposed to open its ears and its hearts to each other as a means of finding the common ground, or at least mutual understanding, necessary for moving forward together.
In his address today, Abp. Rowan Williams notes that while there seems to be a lot of talking, he is unconvinced that much listening is going on – a criticism he levels squarely at both sides of the debate. In the course of his talk, he outlines what he imagines is the core message each side wants the other to take away.
It’s a gentle idea but is unfortunately premised on the notion that we in the more progressive camp are not properly sensitive to traditional church teachings or the authority of Scripture.
This is absurd on its face, because it presupposes that we have largely come from a tradition that embraces the ordination of gay people and the sanctification of same-sex relationships. Nothing could be further than the truth; nearly all of us have grown up with the traditional understanding that homosexuality is an aberrance and a sin. It is not accurate to say that we are casually ignoring inconvenient Scripture or altering practice merely to keep pace with popular, secular culture. Whether gay or straight, it is our faith and our abiding love and respect for the Bible that has caused us to engage this question, to go deeper into Scripture and examine the problematic passages and to seek to understand them.
I personally grew up with a quasi-literalist understanding of the Bible; in the Lutheran church where I attended Sunday school, no one was promoting the idea of a literal six-day creation, but I doubt you’d have found anyone – especially me – who claimed to detect any wiggle room in the twin verses in Leviticus that appear to condemn homosexuality as an “abomination.” That was not up for discussion, and in my early teens, as I became aware of my orientation, I can recall the abject terror those verses inspired in me, because I took them seriously.
For the Archbishop now to muse on behalf of the Africans that Episcopalians haven’t spent enough time appreciating where they’re coming from is an enormous failure to comprehend the painful and scary journey that many of us – both gay and straight – have undertaken to reconcile our faith in a loving God with passages of Scripture that simply contradict what we objectively know to be true about the spiritual gifts of God’s gay and lesbian children. The arguments and appeals we have made on behalf of greater inclusion for Christ’s church are based specifically on our profound regard for Scripture, a regard that inspires us to re-evaluate and re-assess the traditional understanding.
Indeed, he is so far off the mark that he actually manages to suggest that the progressives have not bothered to consider “what it is to be known as the 'gay church' in a context where that spells real contempt and danger.”
That’s the entire experience of “coming out” – the fear of what it will be to be known as the ‘gay person’ in an environment full of contempt and danger.
Oh, yes, Archbishop. We know all about that.
As has been widely covered in the media, the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference has been closely monitored for signs of a rift in the global church over the issue of homosexuality, especially the consecration of openly-gay Bishop Gene Robinson of the Diocese of New Hampshire and the increasingly widespread pastoral practice of blessing same-sex unions throughout the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada.
This is not a new controversy. Resolutions in previous Lambeth meetings have repeatedly called for a “listening” process, in which the global community is supposed to open its ears and its hearts to each other as a means of finding the common ground, or at least mutual understanding, necessary for moving forward together.
In his address today, Abp. Rowan Williams notes that while there seems to be a lot of talking, he is unconvinced that much listening is going on – a criticism he levels squarely at both sides of the debate. In the course of his talk, he outlines what he imagines is the core message each side wants the other to take away.
It’s a gentle idea but is unfortunately premised on the notion that we in the more progressive camp are not properly sensitive to traditional church teachings or the authority of Scripture.
This is absurd on its face, because it presupposes that we have largely come from a tradition that embraces the ordination of gay people and the sanctification of same-sex relationships. Nothing could be further than the truth; nearly all of us have grown up with the traditional understanding that homosexuality is an aberrance and a sin. It is not accurate to say that we are casually ignoring inconvenient Scripture or altering practice merely to keep pace with popular, secular culture. Whether gay or straight, it is our faith and our abiding love and respect for the Bible that has caused us to engage this question, to go deeper into Scripture and examine the problematic passages and to seek to understand them.
I personally grew up with a quasi-literalist understanding of the Bible; in the Lutheran church where I attended Sunday school, no one was promoting the idea of a literal six-day creation, but I doubt you’d have found anyone – especially me – who claimed to detect any wiggle room in the twin verses in Leviticus that appear to condemn homosexuality as an “abomination.” That was not up for discussion, and in my early teens, as I became aware of my orientation, I can recall the abject terror those verses inspired in me, because I took them seriously.
For the Archbishop now to muse on behalf of the Africans that Episcopalians haven’t spent enough time appreciating where they’re coming from is an enormous failure to comprehend the painful and scary journey that many of us – both gay and straight – have undertaken to reconcile our faith in a loving God with passages of Scripture that simply contradict what we objectively know to be true about the spiritual gifts of God’s gay and lesbian children. The arguments and appeals we have made on behalf of greater inclusion for Christ’s church are based specifically on our profound regard for Scripture, a regard that inspires us to re-evaluate and re-assess the traditional understanding.
Indeed, he is so far off the mark that he actually manages to suggest that the progressives have not bothered to consider “what it is to be known as the 'gay church' in a context where that spells real contempt and danger.”
That’s the entire experience of “coming out” – the fear of what it will be to be known as the ‘gay person’ in an environment full of contempt and danger.
Oh, yes, Archbishop. We know all about that.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
A New Addition to the Family
Sorry I haven't blogged all week; I've just been incredibly busy. I've barely kept up with what's going on in the world.
However, I am pleased to report a significant upgrade to my lifestyle.
Socially responsible and sexy. (Just like me.)
However, I am pleased to report a significant upgrade to my lifestyle.
Socially responsible and sexy. (Just like me.)
Monday, July 21, 2008
Non Prophet
Oh, my God. I agree with James Dobson.
"There's nothing dishonorable in a person rethinking his or her positions, especially in a constantly changing political context,” Dobson told the Associated Press.
Well, bravo. This is exactly right; in fact, that’s what mature people do, pause to re-evaluate ideas – even long-held beliefs – in light of changing circumstances and new information. Indeed, even (and especially) Christians should heed this call. It’s not merely not “dishonorable,” it’s frankly a moral imperative. It doesn’t mean you necessarily have to change your mind, but the responsible person is open to bouts of second-guessing themselves.
Okay, I snark, because while I find this morsel from Dobson agreeable, the context in which he said it is pretty deplorable.
"Speaking as a private individual, I would not vote for John McCain under any circumstances.” That’s James Dobson on January 13. Note his emphasis on ‘private individual’ – as head of the quacky “spank away the gay” organization Focus on the Family, Dobson has to be careful to refrain from commenting in an official capacity on elections to avoid jeopardizing the group’s tax-exempt status. Their budget for 2007? $150,606,000.00.
Well, apparently, Dobson is re-evaluating whether there might be, in fact, “any circumstances” under which he would not just vote for but actually endorse John McCain.
It turns out there is one: if a Democrat is leading in the polls.
Last month, Dobson assailed a 2006 speech given by Senator Obama on faith and politics at Call to Renewal in Washington, DC, and proclaimed that he was "deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own worldview." Oh, the delicious, delicious irony, topped with a zesty hypocritical glaze…kind of like fruitcake, the word Dobson famously used in the same jeremiad to describe Obama’s interpretation of the Constitution.
[Here I might add that Obama is a recognized constitutional scholar, previously a member of the adjunct faculty at the famously conservative University of Chicago Law School where he lectured on that very subject.]
On a Focus on the Family radio broadcast today, Dobson moaned, "Barack Obama contradicts and threatens everything I believe about the institution of the family and what is best for the nation. His radical positions on life, marriage and national security force me to reevaluate the candidacy of our only other choice, John McCain."
Yes, indeed, Obama is so radical, so wildly out of touch with American voters that only a small majority of the country agrees with him. I mean, pulling out of Iraq and focusing on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan? That is some serious left-wing crackpottery. His foreign policy was recently lauded by Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who – I might add! – just happens to be a Muslim. Maybe there is something to those rumors.
Clearly one can’t in good conscience vote for Obama, right? We’d be much better off with a Commander-in-Chief who doesn’t know Iraq doesn’t border Pakistan and thinks Shiite Iran is training and funding Sunni Al Qaeda in Iraq. Plus, he’s almost mastered The Google. I’m so relieved that Dobson went back for some deep introspection on this matter. It shows such character.
"While I am not endorsing Senator John McCain, the possibility is there that I might," added Dobson. Today. On the not-for-profit Focus on the Family radio broadcast.
Hello…IRS?
"There's nothing dishonorable in a person rethinking his or her positions, especially in a constantly changing political context,” Dobson told the Associated Press.
Well, bravo. This is exactly right; in fact, that’s what mature people do, pause to re-evaluate ideas – even long-held beliefs – in light of changing circumstances and new information. Indeed, even (and especially) Christians should heed this call. It’s not merely not “dishonorable,” it’s frankly a moral imperative. It doesn’t mean you necessarily have to change your mind, but the responsible person is open to bouts of second-guessing themselves.
Okay, I snark, because while I find this morsel from Dobson agreeable, the context in which he said it is pretty deplorable.
"Speaking as a private individual, I would not vote for John McCain under any circumstances.” That’s James Dobson on January 13. Note his emphasis on ‘private individual’ – as head of the quacky “spank away the gay” organization Focus on the Family, Dobson has to be careful to refrain from commenting in an official capacity on elections to avoid jeopardizing the group’s tax-exempt status. Their budget for 2007? $150,606,000.00.
Well, apparently, Dobson is re-evaluating whether there might be, in fact, “any circumstances” under which he would not just vote for but actually endorse John McCain.
It turns out there is one: if a Democrat is leading in the polls.
Last month, Dobson assailed a 2006 speech given by Senator Obama on faith and politics at Call to Renewal in Washington, DC, and proclaimed that he was "deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own worldview." Oh, the delicious, delicious irony, topped with a zesty hypocritical glaze…kind of like fruitcake, the word Dobson famously used in the same jeremiad to describe Obama’s interpretation of the Constitution.
[Here I might add that Obama is a recognized constitutional scholar, previously a member of the adjunct faculty at the famously conservative University of Chicago Law School where he lectured on that very subject.]
On a Focus on the Family radio broadcast today, Dobson moaned, "Barack Obama contradicts and threatens everything I believe about the institution of the family and what is best for the nation. His radical positions on life, marriage and national security force me to reevaluate the candidacy of our only other choice, John McCain."
Yes, indeed, Obama is so radical, so wildly out of touch with American voters that only a small majority of the country agrees with him. I mean, pulling out of Iraq and focusing on Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan? That is some serious left-wing crackpottery. His foreign policy was recently lauded by Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who – I might add! – just happens to be a Muslim. Maybe there is something to those rumors.
Clearly one can’t in good conscience vote for Obama, right? We’d be much better off with a Commander-in-Chief who doesn’t know Iraq doesn’t border Pakistan and thinks Shiite Iran is training and funding Sunni Al Qaeda in Iraq. Plus, he’s almost mastered The Google. I’m so relieved that Dobson went back for some deep introspection on this matter. It shows such character.
"While I am not endorsing Senator John McCain, the possibility is there that I might," added Dobson. Today. On the not-for-profit Focus on the Family radio broadcast.
Hello…IRS?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Meet the Prez
I'm watching Al Gore on Meet the Press.
My heart is aching --- aching -- that this man has not been our president for the last eight years. We would just be in such a different place now.
Plus...I have to say it, the man is hot.
My heart is aching --- aching -- that this man has not been our president for the last eight years. We would just be in such a different place now.
Plus...I have to say it, the man is hot.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Eine Große Katastrophe
Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of the day I fled Switzerland, following an incredibly difficult year in the young artist program at the Zürich Opera. I decided I would celebrate the occasion by cooking up a traditional Swiss dinner.Some months ago -- it may well have been Christmas -- my mother gave me a box of Hero brand Rösti. Rösti (pronounced "rœ-shtee") is a popular but simple Swiss potato dish that's basically like a giant hashbrown, but oh, so good. I decided I would pair it up with my all-time favorite Swiss recipe, Kalbsgeschnetzeltes, basically sauteed veal in a cream sauce with paprika and marjoram.
First, let me just get out of the way that I haven't really mastered the art of cooking more than one thing at a time. Second: what happened to the price of veal? I used to buy veal in New York every once in a while and it never bankrupted me; it was $21/lb here. I'll be having top ramen until my next paycheck (not a popular Swiss dish, but nonetheless, often what I ate while I lived there).
Hero Rösti comes in this space-age, air-tight silver pack; there's not even an expiration date on the box. (This was the same technology the Swiss used to seal up their national sense of humor.) The directions are simple enough: heat up a frying pan, put the potatoes in the pan, pat down into a patty shape and cook over medium heat for 15 minutes until a nice golden brown crust forms on the bottom. Carefully place a plate over the frying pan, turn it over, drop the Rösti onto the plate, then slide it back into the pan on the uncooked side for an additional 6 minutes.
Easy, right?
Okay, so at the 15 minute mark, I very, very carefully flipped the frying pan while holding a plate over it. I heard a little "thhhhheeeeerrrrrrrrthupkkt" and felt a delicate plop onto the plate. I gently removed the frying pan...and discovered a mass of yellow, uncooked potato pieces on the plate, while most of the Rösti hung in black and brown shreds from the bottom of the frying pan.
Crud.
The veal turned out okay, though.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Of the Birds and the Bees...and the Mice
Another absolutely perfect summer day in Oregon. I was able to leave work early again today, and made it out to the pool about 3:00, and for the first 20 minutes or so, I was completely alone as I stretched out on the chaise. I fell asleep almost instantly. I could feel my muscles relaxing in the warm golden sunshine, a gentle, dry breeze blowing away my cares.
Alas, my reverie was broken by that most unwelcome of pool intruders; no, not a cloud, or a raindrop, or a hornet...a toddler. Not even maximum volume on my iPod could keep out the stream of conscious shrieked forth unceasingly from this little girl.
As her grandmother was applying her sunscreen -- "Gramma, it's COOOOOLLLLD!!!" -- a small garter snake, about six inches long, slithered across the patio. The scream that emitted from the tyke...indescribable. I am hoping my hearing comes back tomorrow.
"Oh, you don't need to be afraid of him, dear," said Grandmother.
"He can't eat me?"
"No, honey. He's much too small, and he wouldn't want to, anyway. Snakes eat...well...let's see, I suppose he'd eat small birds, and bird eggs, and maybe turtle eggs if he found them, and mice --"
"And mice eggs?"
"...."
"Well, no...mice don't lay eggs, honey."
"Why not?"
"Well...because they're not the kind of animal that lays eggs."
Safely strapped into a vest and inflatable arm thingies, the little girl splashed about in the pool while Grandmother sat in a chair and tried to read a magazine.
"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma! Watch this."
"That's good, dear," said Grandmother, not looking up.
"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma!....GRAMMA!!!!!"
"What, honey?!?"
"Did you know mommy has a bagina?"
Alas, my reverie was broken by that most unwelcome of pool intruders; no, not a cloud, or a raindrop, or a hornet...a toddler. Not even maximum volume on my iPod could keep out the stream of conscious shrieked forth unceasingly from this little girl.
As her grandmother was applying her sunscreen -- "Gramma, it's COOOOOLLLLD!!!" -- a small garter snake, about six inches long, slithered across the patio. The scream that emitted from the tyke...indescribable. I am hoping my hearing comes back tomorrow.
"Oh, you don't need to be afraid of him, dear," said Grandmother.
"He can't eat me?"
"No, honey. He's much too small, and he wouldn't want to, anyway. Snakes eat...well...let's see, I suppose he'd eat small birds, and bird eggs, and maybe turtle eggs if he found them, and mice --"
"And mice eggs?"
"...."
"Well, no...mice don't lay eggs, honey."
"Why not?"
"Well...because they're not the kind of animal that lays eggs."
Safely strapped into a vest and inflatable arm thingies, the little girl splashed about in the pool while Grandmother sat in a chair and tried to read a magazine.
"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma! Watch this."
"That's good, dear," said Grandmother, not looking up.
"Gramma...Gramma...Gramma!....GRAMMA!!!!!"
"What, honey?!?"
"Did you know mommy has a bagina?"
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Am I Buying a Car or a Senator?
I am currently researching automobiles, in gleeful anticipation of a far-from-certain improvement in my income next month. I'm thinking about the Honda Civic Coupe. (Yeah, yeah, I know...the Hybrid would be lovely but waaaayyyy out of my price range; even the Coupe is pretty wildly optimistic, but one can dream.)
However, I did feel obligated to share with you this description on the Honda website of the Coupe's design: "A wide stance and exceptional body rigidity help provide a solid and sporty ride."
Heh.
However, I did feel obligated to share with you this description on the Honda website of the Coupe's design: "A wide stance and exceptional body rigidity help provide a solid and sporty ride."
Heh.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Is that a $600 Check in Your Mailbox or are You Just Happy to See Me?
I am officially stimulated.
Most of you are probably thinking, "You just got your check TODAY?" Well, yes. The IRS distributed the checks according to the last two digits of the taxpayer's social security number. My last digits are 98. Could have been worse, I suppose.
My dear friend "Anonymous" was looking in vain (though, not very hard) for some instance where I disagreed with Barack Obama; this is one. In fact, back in January I said the only politician on the right side of the government's "economic stimulus" bill was...Mike Huckabee. I am still upset that we're going to borrow billions of dollars from China (ummm...that we have to pay back, with interest) to send people a paltry $600.
Granted, right at this moment I'm pretty relieved to have $600 more in my checking account, but it irks me that this isn't actually a tax refund, it's essentially a cash advance on a credit card that George Bush and the Congress took out in my name.
* * * * * *
Following up on Bp. Robinson's visit to the UK during the Lambeth Conference from which he is being excluded on account of some other bishops' discomfort with homosexuality, the Vicar of St. Mary's, Putney -- where Robinson preached this past Sunday -- wrote one of his predictably acidic and hilarious columns for The Guardian about the event.
Money quote: "How on earth does Gene Robinson cope with the disgusting abuse to which he is subjected most days – the protester who interrupted his sermon in my church on Sunday being a pretty mild example? Day after day, buckets of spiritual shit are thrown at him, sometimes by fellow bishops, and he just keeps going."
Wow, I am loving the phrase I emboldened there (to use a favorite word of the President's). It's vulgar, sure, but so, so, so accurate. Absolutely the right metaphor for the situation.
* * * * * * *
It's To Wong Foo meets Priscilla meets The Last Debate: fellow blogger and JustOut columnist SMB and I are teaming up to cover Hermiston, Oregon's first ever Gay Pride event. Okay, well, no SMB will cover it, I'm just driving and along for the thrill of it. It's the weekend of August 1-2; stay tuned for another exciting Road Trip Live Blogging Event (this time without cats, I'm afraid.)
Most of you are probably thinking, "You just got your check TODAY?" Well, yes. The IRS distributed the checks according to the last two digits of the taxpayer's social security number. My last digits are 98. Could have been worse, I suppose.
My dear friend "Anonymous" was looking in vain (though, not very hard) for some instance where I disagreed with Barack Obama; this is one. In fact, back in January I said the only politician on the right side of the government's "economic stimulus" bill was...Mike Huckabee. I am still upset that we're going to borrow billions of dollars from China (ummm...that we have to pay back, with interest) to send people a paltry $600.
Granted, right at this moment I'm pretty relieved to have $600 more in my checking account, but it irks me that this isn't actually a tax refund, it's essentially a cash advance on a credit card that George Bush and the Congress took out in my name.
* * * * * *
Following up on Bp. Robinson's visit to the UK during the Lambeth Conference from which he is being excluded on account of some other bishops' discomfort with homosexuality, the Vicar of St. Mary's, Putney -- where Robinson preached this past Sunday -- wrote one of his predictably acidic and hilarious columns for The Guardian about the event.
Money quote: "How on earth does Gene Robinson cope with the disgusting abuse to which he is subjected most days – the protester who interrupted his sermon in my church on Sunday being a pretty mild example? Day after day, buckets of spiritual shit are thrown at him, sometimes by fellow bishops, and he just keeps going."
Wow, I am loving the phrase I emboldened there (to use a favorite word of the President's). It's vulgar, sure, but so, so, so accurate. Absolutely the right metaphor for the situation.
* * * * * * *
It's To Wong Foo meets Priscilla meets The Last Debate: fellow blogger and JustOut columnist SMB and I are teaming up to cover Hermiston, Oregon's first ever Gay Pride event. Okay, well, no SMB will cover it, I'm just driving and along for the thrill of it. It's the weekend of August 1-2; stay tuned for another exciting Road Trip Live Blogging Event (this time without cats, I'm afraid.)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Not One of the Gifts of the Spirit
I kid you not: "An Oklahoma church canceled a controversial gun giveaway for teenagers at a weekend youth conference.Windsor Hills Baptist had planned to give away a semiautomatic assault rifle until one of the event's organizers was unable to attend." [Emphasis added.]
UPDATED JULY 15: They've changed their minds; the gun-giveaway is back on again. Money quote: "Windsor Hills Baptist apparently has a history of worshipping God through firepower, and last year ran a shooting competition as part of its annual shindig." Now, that is some snarky reportage! Bravo.
UPDATED JULY 15: They've changed their minds; the gun-giveaway is back on again. Money quote: "Windsor Hills Baptist apparently has a history of worshipping God through firepower, and last year ran a shooting competition as part of its annual shindig." Now, that is some snarky reportage! Bravo.
"I Believe in the Living God"
Over at Walking with Integrity (Integrity is the national GLBT advocacy network within the Episcopal Church), they've posted a recent sermon by Bishop Gene Robinson.
As I ponder the direction I think I want to go professionally in life -- working within faith communities as an advocate for LGBT people and as an ambassador to those who have been wounded by the church -- one of my main tasks will be to open new windows of understanding on the handful of Bible passages which have been used to condemn homosexuality.
"Could it be that even the Bible is too small a box in which to enclose God?" asks Bp. Robinson, a question that is likely to be met with disbelief and outrage in parts of the Christian world. For many, even within the Anglican Communion, the Bible is the Word of God, and to question or doubt the historic or scientific or theological accuracy of any given passage is to directly challenge God's self. This is a non-starter for a lot of people.
Nevertheless, as I have argued before, questioning God is what we are called to do. The Almighty isn't afraid of a mere question; indeed, what are the Gospels but the record of an extended Q&A session with Jesus? Within the stories contained in Scripture, people question God all the time. Questioning and even confronting what we read in Scripture is how we go deeper in faith.
The question before us is whether God stopped revealing His will to us when the ink dried on the last page of John's apocalypse, or whether God continues to speak to us today. Bp. Gene helpfully points to John 16:12, when on the night before he died, Jesus commented to his disciples, "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now." There is a clear Scriptural argument to be made that the Bible does not contain everything the Lord wants us to know; there is a promise that "when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth." That process -- as we look backward over a church history that includes the burning of women as "witches," the endorsement of slavery, the Crusades, the Inquisition and all manner of horrors -- is ongoing. It is essential to note that Scripture was used to justify all of these grievous sins; yet the Spirit never abandoned us, and continues today to call us and pull us and push us forward in the "spirit of truth," to go back now and re-read those parts of the Bible we thought we understood and discover them anew with astonishment that we ever thought they said what it was claimed they said.
"It is the brilliance of Anglicanism that we first and foremost read scripture, and then interpret it in light of church tradition and human reason. No one of us alone can be trusted to such a process because, left to our own devices, we recast God's will in our own image," says Robinson.
What a shame, then, that this year's Lambeth Conference will not include the duly elected and consecrated Bishop of New Hampshire, nor will it include more than a fourth of all bishops, due to their decision to boycott the gathering over the ordination of women and God's gay children. Where is the Gospel passage recalling the time Jesus said, "No, I won't speak to that person"? When we read the Great Commission -- "Go forth, therefore, and make ye disciples of all people" -- where is the fine print that excludes some of those people or allows us simply to choose not to engage with others in conversation about our disagreements? Can we not trust "The Spirit of Truth" to guide us into deeper understanding and reconciliation?
As I ponder the direction I think I want to go professionally in life -- working within faith communities as an advocate for LGBT people and as an ambassador to those who have been wounded by the church -- one of my main tasks will be to open new windows of understanding on the handful of Bible passages which have been used to condemn homosexuality.
"Could it be that even the Bible is too small a box in which to enclose God?" asks Bp. Robinson, a question that is likely to be met with disbelief and outrage in parts of the Christian world. For many, even within the Anglican Communion, the Bible is the Word of God, and to question or doubt the historic or scientific or theological accuracy of any given passage is to directly challenge God's self. This is a non-starter for a lot of people.
Nevertheless, as I have argued before, questioning God is what we are called to do. The Almighty isn't afraid of a mere question; indeed, what are the Gospels but the record of an extended Q&A session with Jesus? Within the stories contained in Scripture, people question God all the time. Questioning and even confronting what we read in Scripture is how we go deeper in faith.
The question before us is whether God stopped revealing His will to us when the ink dried on the last page of John's apocalypse, or whether God continues to speak to us today. Bp. Gene helpfully points to John 16:12, when on the night before he died, Jesus commented to his disciples, "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now." There is a clear Scriptural argument to be made that the Bible does not contain everything the Lord wants us to know; there is a promise that "when the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth." That process -- as we look backward over a church history that includes the burning of women as "witches," the endorsement of slavery, the Crusades, the Inquisition and all manner of horrors -- is ongoing. It is essential to note that Scripture was used to justify all of these grievous sins; yet the Spirit never abandoned us, and continues today to call us and pull us and push us forward in the "spirit of truth," to go back now and re-read those parts of the Bible we thought we understood and discover them anew with astonishment that we ever thought they said what it was claimed they said.
"It is the brilliance of Anglicanism that we first and foremost read scripture, and then interpret it in light of church tradition and human reason. No one of us alone can be trusted to such a process because, left to our own devices, we recast God's will in our own image," says Robinson.
What a shame, then, that this year's Lambeth Conference will not include the duly elected and consecrated Bishop of New Hampshire, nor will it include more than a fourth of all bishops, due to their decision to boycott the gathering over the ordination of women and God's gay children. Where is the Gospel passage recalling the time Jesus said, "No, I won't speak to that person"? When we read the Great Commission -- "Go forth, therefore, and make ye disciples of all people" -- where is the fine print that excludes some of those people or allows us simply to choose not to engage with others in conversation about our disagreements? Can we not trust "The Spirit of Truth" to guide us into deeper understanding and reconciliation?
Saturday, July 12, 2008
A Follow-Up
It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Work has been busy and then of course on Wednesday we had the memorial service for my stepfather, which was a moving and fitting tribute attended by a couple hundred people (including a couple of this blog's readers; thank you, again).
* * * * *
My company has "summer hours," which means that we can leave at noon on Fridays until September, provided the boss is satisfied that everything that needs to be done is done. I worked like a crazy person for four hours yesterday morning and disappeared precisely at the stroke of 12. A few minutes later I could be found reclining on a chaise by the pool at my apartment complex, basking in dry, 83-degree bright sunshine with a gentle breeze, exhaling a deep sigh of exhaustion.
There was a familiar face hanging out with a couple of friends. They were deep in vapid tweentalk which I tried hard to ignore, until suddenly their voices dropped to a hush. My ears pricked up, because I'm wise enough to know that meant they were actually going to say something interesting. Here's what I overheard:
Girl 1: ....
Girl 2: How do you know that?
Girl 1: He told me.
Girl 2: What, he just came out to you, like, randomly?
Girl 1: Umm...it's a long story.
I can only imagine she was referring to this.
* * * * *
Readers may note that I have disabled anonymous commenting for this blog. It seems I have tremendous difficulty restraining myself from feeding the trolls. So now, if you'd like to comment, you'll need to sign in.
No doubt "Anonymous" will once again accuse me -- or would, if he were still allowed to comment here -- of being unwilling to debate (note the blog title), but the truth is, I will happily engage differences of opinion as they relate to a common set of what are known as "facts." "Anonymous" accuses me of not wanting to know "the truth" about Barack Obama, and then proceeds to insist that he is a stealth Muslim who, like all blacks and Hispanics, hopes to initiate slavery reparations using white folk's 401(k)'s.
For a time I found attempting to educate this dullard entertaining, but I've grown weary of it. His repeated "threats" to not return to my blog have not been kept, and he has ignored my pleading to go the hell away.
* * * * *
My company has "summer hours," which means that we can leave at noon on Fridays until September, provided the boss is satisfied that everything that needs to be done is done. I worked like a crazy person for four hours yesterday morning and disappeared precisely at the stroke of 12. A few minutes later I could be found reclining on a chaise by the pool at my apartment complex, basking in dry, 83-degree bright sunshine with a gentle breeze, exhaling a deep sigh of exhaustion.
There was a familiar face hanging out with a couple of friends. They were deep in vapid tweentalk which I tried hard to ignore, until suddenly their voices dropped to a hush. My ears pricked up, because I'm wise enough to know that meant they were actually going to say something interesting. Here's what I overheard:
Girl 1: ....
Girl 2: How do you know that?
Girl 1: He told me.
Girl 2: What, he just came out to you, like, randomly?
Girl 1: Umm...it's a long story.
I can only imagine she was referring to this.
* * * * *
Readers may note that I have disabled anonymous commenting for this blog. It seems I have tremendous difficulty restraining myself from feeding the trolls. So now, if you'd like to comment, you'll need to sign in.
No doubt "Anonymous" will once again accuse me -- or would, if he were still allowed to comment here -- of being unwilling to debate (note the blog title), but the truth is, I will happily engage differences of opinion as they relate to a common set of what are known as "facts." "Anonymous" accuses me of not wanting to know "the truth" about Barack Obama, and then proceeds to insist that he is a stealth Muslim who, like all blacks and Hispanics, hopes to initiate slavery reparations using white folk's 401(k)'s.
For a time I found attempting to educate this dullard entertaining, but I've grown weary of it. His repeated "threats" to not return to my blog have not been kept, and he has ignored my pleading to go the hell away.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Poor Hillary
The New York Times reports today on the, shall we say, tepid response from Democrats to Barack Obama's gallant request for donations to help Senator Clinton retire her $23 million campaign debt.
Ahem.
I think it was a nice gesture on Obama's part -- he even personally contributed the legal maximum of $2,300 -- to acknowledge Senator Clinton's historic accomplishment.
But I am confused about this notion that there should be any obligation on the part of Democrats -- especially Obama supporters -- to provide financial aid to one of the world's richest, most powerful couples.
Gas prices are soaring, the US is hemorrhaging jobs, people are rioting around the world protesting the skyrocketing costs of basic food staples (16,000 children will die today from hunger-related causes) and we're supposed to dig deep into our pockets and pass a buck to a Senator and her ex-President husband who are collectively worth $109 million?
Senator Clinton was not some political neophyte. She knew well what she was doing when she spent $11 million of her own fortune -- check it, folks, eleven million dollars of her own money she spent, and she wants help!?!?!?!?!? -- on her presidential campaign. That was a gamble, not an investment. Even if she'd won the nomination, there's no guarantee she'd recoup that loss from donations.
It was many weeks from the time that her path to the nomination became mathematically improbable until the day she surrendered -- pointedly, not on the day Obama clinched the nomination; no, on that evening, she delivered a bizarrely Bushian alternate-reality speech in which she announced she would ponder her options -- and during this time her campaign wildly spent beyond its means.
It is particularly ironic that she wants help from Obama supporters, after she spent months (and millions of dollars) trying to damage his reputation with cheap guilt-by-association smears and misrepresentations.
I think we can breathe a sigh of collective relief that she will not be put in charge of fixing our economy. No wonder conservatives deride welfare and entitlement programs, when you have millionaire liberals telling the Times that they are "bitter" that no one is rushing to help them recover from their financial folly. Imagine if the Clintons had to pay for their own debts! Why, by my calculations, that would leave them with only around $80 million. Poor dears. How would they get by?
I don't know what she's going to do. Maybe she'll have to write another book?
Ahem.
I think it was a nice gesture on Obama's part -- he even personally contributed the legal maximum of $2,300 -- to acknowledge Senator Clinton's historic accomplishment.
But I am confused about this notion that there should be any obligation on the part of Democrats -- especially Obama supporters -- to provide financial aid to one of the world's richest, most powerful couples.
Gas prices are soaring, the US is hemorrhaging jobs, people are rioting around the world protesting the skyrocketing costs of basic food staples (16,000 children will die today from hunger-related causes) and we're supposed to dig deep into our pockets and pass a buck to a Senator and her ex-President husband who are collectively worth $109 million?
Senator Clinton was not some political neophyte. She knew well what she was doing when she spent $11 million of her own fortune -- check it, folks, eleven million dollars of her own money she spent, and she wants help!?!?!?!?!? -- on her presidential campaign. That was a gamble, not an investment. Even if she'd won the nomination, there's no guarantee she'd recoup that loss from donations.
It was many weeks from the time that her path to the nomination became mathematically improbable until the day she surrendered -- pointedly, not on the day Obama clinched the nomination; no, on that evening, she delivered a bizarrely Bushian alternate-reality speech in which she announced she would ponder her options -- and during this time her campaign wildly spent beyond its means.
It is particularly ironic that she wants help from Obama supporters, after she spent months (and millions of dollars) trying to damage his reputation with cheap guilt-by-association smears and misrepresentations.
I think we can breathe a sigh of collective relief that she will not be put in charge of fixing our economy. No wonder conservatives deride welfare and entitlement programs, when you have millionaire liberals telling the Times that they are "bitter" that no one is rushing to help them recover from their financial folly. Imagine if the Clintons had to pay for their own debts! Why, by my calculations, that would leave them with only around $80 million. Poor dears. How would they get by?
I don't know what she's going to do. Maybe she'll have to write another book?
Sunday, July 06, 2008
A Good Morning Kiss
It's an image from ancient myth and classic fairytale: Brynnhild and Princess Aurora are both awakened from deep, epic slumbers by the gentle kiss of a lover.Today it was my turn.
And I also solved the age-old question, "Do cats have morning breath?"
Starbuck decided she wanted breakfast early today. 5:16, to be precise. At least, that's what time her plaintive, high pitched squeak first roused me from my dreams. I rolled over. I love you, cat, but I'm not getting up at five on a Sunday.
She then proceeded with a series of strategic "meow and run" bombings: she'd sneak up to my ear and emit a plaintive squawk and then dart away before I could grab her and force her to snuggle. Each little mew grew louder in volume and insistence. I sat up and she hopped off the bed and looked at me, pointedly.
I threw a pillow at her.
It only took me a few minutes to drift back to sleep. This time, Starbuck decided she wasn't messing around. She sidled up to me and purred, and did that head-butt thing. It felt good. Awww, I love you, kitty.
Then, without warning, she stuck her tongue in my mouth. And ran away.
EWWWWWWW!
I decided it would be bad to encourage this sort of behavior, so rather than reward her with breakfast, I chased her out of the room and closed the door, and slept for another hour.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Blogroll Update
I've cleaned up the blogroll on the right. I deleted several links that are now defunct or ones that I just don't check in with anymore. I've also added a bunch of new links to blogs that I've started reading recently.
Friday, July 04, 2008
Well Hello, Oregon
Jeez Louise, this is about the dreariest-looking 4th of July in history. It looks like February outside (though fortunately it's warm enough to have the windows open, and my lilies bloomed overnight!).
Happy Independence Day, y'all!
Happy Independence Day, y'all!
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Things that Make You Go "Hmmm"
This morning I was out of milk, both at home (so, no cereal) and at work (so, no coffee) so I decided I'd go ahead and stop at Starbucks and get coffee and a treat to take with me.
Behind me in line was a very handsome, very well-dressed guy about my age who pulled up in a BMW. He ordered a "non-fat, one-pump peppermint latte."
I could not decide whether that was the gayest drink in the history of the world or something so disgusting that only a straight man could love it. Thoughts?
Behind me in line was a very handsome, very well-dressed guy about my age who pulled up in a BMW. He ordered a "non-fat, one-pump peppermint latte."
I could not decide whether that was the gayest drink in the history of the world or something so disgusting that only a straight man could love it. Thoughts?
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
If Only James Dobson Were Right
My new upstairs neighbor is gorgeous. I mean...wow. He is hot sex in a bottle. (Now, where on earth did I pick up that phrase?)
Alas, his girlfriend isn't bad, either.
I hate them so much.
I wish I could work my secret evil gay powers; in tandem with the combined force of Oregon and Washington's Domestic Partnership laws and California's legalization of same-sex marriage, according to the wing-nuts that should be more than sufficient to wreck this relationship and make him go gay. I mean, the government has clearly sent the message that it's okay; why is he still hanging out with this chick?
I mean, I know that this would mean the collapse of civilization as we know it (or at least, that's what I'm told), but honestly, for him I'd risk it.
Alas, his girlfriend isn't bad, either.
I hate them so much.
I wish I could work my secret evil gay powers; in tandem with the combined force of Oregon and Washington's Domestic Partnership laws and California's legalization of same-sex marriage, according to the wing-nuts that should be more than sufficient to wreck this relationship and make him go gay. I mean, the government has clearly sent the message that it's okay; why is he still hanging out with this chick?
I mean, I know that this would mean the collapse of civilization as we know it (or at least, that's what I'm told), but honestly, for him I'd risk it.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Monday Photo Blogging: Cats & Sunsets
After a weekend of unusually hot weather, Sunday evening cooled down with an impressive thunderstorm followed by a brilliant sunset.
Okay, but...check it out. Is it just me, or is there TOTALLY a cat face in the clouds?
In other news, I continue to be an incredibly bad influence on my cats.
Okay, but...check it out. Is it just me, or is there TOTALLY a cat face in the clouds?
In other news, I continue to be an incredibly bad influence on my cats.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
It's Nice to See You, Too
When I showed up at the restaurant this afternoon to meet my father for lunch, he didn't say "Hello."
He said, "Nice comb-over."
Okay, now...wait a second. I know I'm a little thin right up front. It's kind of fluffy. But this is not a comb-over. And my hair has not changed since I was 23. That year, suddenly my hair got a LOT thinner, and I was pretty worried. But then it stopped, and my hair has looked exactly the same for eleven years.
Still, I've been thinking: maybe it's time to shave it. Just to see. What do you think?
I won't do it for at least a couple of weeks, after my stepfather's memorial.
He said, "Nice comb-over."
Okay, now...wait a second. I know I'm a little thin right up front. It's kind of fluffy. But this is not a comb-over. And my hair has not changed since I was 23. That year, suddenly my hair got a LOT thinner, and I was pretty worried. But then it stopped, and my hair has looked exactly the same for eleven years.
Still, I've been thinking: maybe it's time to shave it. Just to see. What do you think?
I won't do it for at least a couple of weeks, after my stepfather's memorial.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
I Was Thinking Someplace with a Menu
With all that's been going on in the past couple of weeks, I haven't had a chance to get together with my father to celebrate either my birthday, which was last Monday, or Father's Day, which was the day before and which I observed by marching in the Gay Pride Parade, aka, not my father's sort of thing. What with my stepfather's recent passing, it occurred to me that I hadn't seen my grandmother -- who's lingering in a nursing home on the other side of town -- in quite a while. I proposed that the two of us go have lunch for father's day/my birthday and then go visit her. Kill three birds with one stone, as it were.
I called him up and suggested that we meet somewhere for lunch tomorrow at 12:30, after I get done with church, and then go over to the home.
My father says, completely serious: "Well, they serve lunch at the home at 11:45."
Yes, because for my birthday I want applesauce and creamed corn on a tray with a side of tapioca in a plastic dish and a glass of grape juice to wash it down. Not.
I called him up and suggested that we meet somewhere for lunch tomorrow at 12:30, after I get done with church, and then go over to the home.
My father says, completely serious: "Well, they serve lunch at the home at 11:45."
Yes, because for my birthday I want applesauce and creamed corn on a tray with a side of tapioca in a plastic dish and a glass of grape juice to wash it down. Not.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A Sacrament of Chicken a L'Orange
Today I stood and watched a box containing my stepfather's body get lowered into the ground, where it will remain forever (well...as long as the concrete liner lasts), and then we threw some dirt on it. It was one of the strangest experiences of my life.
Up until this point, Death has not had a major impact on my life. Almost nine years ago we lost my grandfather, but he lived in California and had suffered from Alzheimer's; in a way, "Gramps" had already been gone for a while, and frankly we were all relieved because we hated the idea of him lingering in a facility. But this is the first time Death has come right into my home, so to speak, and deprived me of someone I am accustomed to seeing and talking with frequently, someone whose absence now is bizarre. In a cerebral way, I recognize that he is dead. But on a more fundamental plane, I don't think I have accepted that he is gone.
Because of my faith, I think I am in a pretty good place about Death. I am less and less sure of the existence of Hell; if it exists, I think one has to try hard to get there. Many would insist that's where my stepfather is right now; of Quaker origins, he was unbaptized, and not a churchgoer. He and I never spoke about God, but I have the sense he was agnostic leaning ever so slightly toward "possibly." A natural skeptic -- I recall him scoffing at the suggestion that there might be any such thing as a UFO -- I'm not sure he would have been on board with the Virgin Birth and the Bodily Resurrection. And yet I can think of few other people I have encountered in my life who truly lived the Gospel. He gave to everyone and anyone, without expecting anything in return. He loved to help people. I never heard him gossip or say anything unkind or unfair. He was, genuinely, slow to speak and slow to anger. He was one of the least materialistic people imaginable. His was a life of care and, in a way, ministry. He was truly remarkable. Here was a man who didn't need to study the Bible, because God's law was written deeply into his heart and His Grace interwoven throughout the fabric of his being.
What awaits us when we die? As a Christian, I believe in the notion of Heaven, that it is a dimension in which we experience joy, peace and reconciliation, a state of being where all is made known and injuries, regrets and disappointments vanish into bliss. As Peter Jackson's -- not Tolkien's -- Gandalf put it to Pippin, "The journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it: White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise." Paradise is nice, right?
And yet, nothing so far has hit me harder than this from CS Lewis' A Grief Observed: "I look up at the night sky. Is anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch?" If Heaven exists -- and I believe it does -- it is not a place. Dan is not "somewhere else." We can't get to him by hopping on a boat with some elves. He is dead, whatever that means.
* * * * * *
As an adolescent, I went through a period of years where I was something of a terror. It took me a very long time to accept my new stepfather, and for a time I was spiteful and cruel toward him. He loved to cook -- and, fortunately, was a very good cook -- but I can recall being dissatisfied with what I felt was his rather limited repertoire. One of his favorite dishes -- presumably because of ease; you just throw a chicken breast in a dish with three tablespoons of frozen orange juice concentrate, two tablespoons of soy sauce, a teaspoon of ginger and a half-teaspoon of salt and bake for 30 minutes -- was chicken a l'orange. I can recall complaining, "Are we having chicken l'orange again? Doesn't he know how to cook anything else?"
What a little bastard I was.
So here I am, many years later, heartbroken by this man's absence. And for dinner I cooked up chicken a l'orange.
Up until this point, Death has not had a major impact on my life. Almost nine years ago we lost my grandfather, but he lived in California and had suffered from Alzheimer's; in a way, "Gramps" had already been gone for a while, and frankly we were all relieved because we hated the idea of him lingering in a facility. But this is the first time Death has come right into my home, so to speak, and deprived me of someone I am accustomed to seeing and talking with frequently, someone whose absence now is bizarre. In a cerebral way, I recognize that he is dead. But on a more fundamental plane, I don't think I have accepted that he is gone.
Because of my faith, I think I am in a pretty good place about Death. I am less and less sure of the existence of Hell; if it exists, I think one has to try hard to get there. Many would insist that's where my stepfather is right now; of Quaker origins, he was unbaptized, and not a churchgoer. He and I never spoke about God, but I have the sense he was agnostic leaning ever so slightly toward "possibly." A natural skeptic -- I recall him scoffing at the suggestion that there might be any such thing as a UFO -- I'm not sure he would have been on board with the Virgin Birth and the Bodily Resurrection. And yet I can think of few other people I have encountered in my life who truly lived the Gospel. He gave to everyone and anyone, without expecting anything in return. He loved to help people. I never heard him gossip or say anything unkind or unfair. He was, genuinely, slow to speak and slow to anger. He was one of the least materialistic people imaginable. His was a life of care and, in a way, ministry. He was truly remarkable. Here was a man who didn't need to study the Bible, because God's law was written deeply into his heart and His Grace interwoven throughout the fabric of his being.
What awaits us when we die? As a Christian, I believe in the notion of Heaven, that it is a dimension in which we experience joy, peace and reconciliation, a state of being where all is made known and injuries, regrets and disappointments vanish into bliss. As Peter Jackson's -- not Tolkien's -- Gandalf put it to Pippin, "The journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it: White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise." Paradise is nice, right?
And yet, nothing so far has hit me harder than this from CS Lewis' A Grief Observed: "I look up at the night sky. Is anything more certain than that in all those vast times and spaces, if I were allowed to search them, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch?" If Heaven exists -- and I believe it does -- it is not a place. Dan is not "somewhere else." We can't get to him by hopping on a boat with some elves. He is dead, whatever that means.
* * * * * *
As an adolescent, I went through a period of years where I was something of a terror. It took me a very long time to accept my new stepfather, and for a time I was spiteful and cruel toward him. He loved to cook -- and, fortunately, was a very good cook -- but I can recall being dissatisfied with what I felt was his rather limited repertoire. One of his favorite dishes -- presumably because of ease; you just throw a chicken breast in a dish with three tablespoons of frozen orange juice concentrate, two tablespoons of soy sauce, a teaspoon of ginger and a half-teaspoon of salt and bake for 30 minutes -- was chicken a l'orange. I can recall complaining, "Are we having chicken l'orange again? Doesn't he know how to cook anything else?"
What a little bastard I was.
So here I am, many years later, heartbroken by this man's absence. And for dinner I cooked up chicken a l'orange.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
A. Daniel Feller, 1935-2008
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.
- Isaiah 40:5
- Isaiah 40:5
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Untold Story of Gay Pride
This year's theme for Portland's Gay Pride Parade was, "Pride: Bring It!"
I'm pleased to say, my parish brought it. Here I was afraid that our group would be pitifully small, so I had us join up with the largest parish in the state, Trinity Cathedral, so we wouldn't be lonely. Well, Trinity sent two people and we sent eighteen, which included our entire clergy staff, three members of the Vestry, and straight allies with children. I think that's pretty dang good for our first appearance! We're already talking about what to do differently (better, more) next year.
I mean, look at these people. This is the untold story of Gay Pride, folks. The media and the conservatives like to focus on the scantily or otherwise outrageously clad. What they don't show you is a group of devout Christians, gay and straight, who came directly to the parade from the Eucharist. A couple of local columnists remarked that the endless welcoming religious groups are kinda dull because our outfits aren't especially interesting. (Well, come to an Episcopal church on a Feast Day and behold the fabulousness.) But in a way, aren't we the crucial part?
In his speech at the Lambda Legal Liberty Awards in Manhattan in 2006, Bishop Gene Robinson of the Diocese of New Hampshire remarked, "Religion is the source of our oppression." Well, the good people at my church and in congregations across the country and around the world aim to make religion the source of our liberation. As the Reverend Canon Mary Haddad of Grace Cathedral put it once, "If it's not good news for everybody, it's not good news."
* * * * * *
Rocky will kill me for including this picture, but I couldn't resist.
I'm pleased to say, my parish brought it. Here I was afraid that our group would be pitifully small, so I had us join up with the largest parish in the state, Trinity Cathedral, so we wouldn't be lonely. Well, Trinity sent two people and we sent eighteen, which included our entire clergy staff, three members of the Vestry, and straight allies with children. I think that's pretty dang good for our first appearance! We're already talking about what to do differently (better, more) next year.
I mean, look at these people. This is the untold story of Gay Pride, folks. The media and the conservatives like to focus on the scantily or otherwise outrageously clad. What they don't show you is a group of devout Christians, gay and straight, who came directly to the parade from the Eucharist. A couple of local columnists remarked that the endless welcoming religious groups are kinda dull because our outfits aren't especially interesting. (Well, come to an Episcopal church on a Feast Day and behold the fabulousness.) But in a way, aren't we the crucial part?In his speech at the Lambda Legal Liberty Awards in Manhattan in 2006, Bishop Gene Robinson of the Diocese of New Hampshire remarked, "Religion is the source of our oppression." Well, the good people at my church and in congregations across the country and around the world aim to make religion the source of our liberation. As the Reverend Canon Mary Haddad of Grace Cathedral put it once, "If it's not good news for everybody, it's not good news."
* * * * * *
Rocky will kill me for including this picture, but I couldn't resist.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Review: BSG "Revelations"
WARNING: SPOILERS
Well, I hate to say it, but I found last night's "cliffhanger" disappointing. Battlestar Galactica has an amazing track record of putting on thrilling, surprising, revelatory finales. Think back to "Kobol's Last Gleaming: Pt. 2" or Admiral Cain launching alert fighters or Baltar surrendering to the Cylon occupiers. I had high hopes for last night; maybe that was my problem.
Those great episodes all share two things: a breakneck, exhilarating pace and a last-minute plot twist that leaves you infuriated that you have to wait for months to see the resolution. Last night wasn't fast-paced so much as it was rushed. Moments they have been setting up for years passed by quite perfunctorily. Honestly, I was more moved when Aidan found out Carrie was smoking again than when Starbuck learned Anders was a Cylon.
I didn't buy Adama's reaction to Tigh's "coming out" scene, either; it looked like he'd gotten dumped. I would have had a lot more questions for the Colonel, and would have felt incredulity more than rage and grief. The idea that a battle-traumatized and grief-stricken old man was going cuckoo is far more plausible than, "I'm a 60 year old robot," and I would have pressed to be convinced. Starbuck should have had Adama's blow-up scene, and vice versa.
Poor Tyrol! No one even cared that he's a Cylon. You'd think Athena, at least, would have something to say about that. The whole fleet seemed to adjust pretty easily to the discovery that the XO, the deck chief, the Caprican Pyramid star and the president's aide-de-camp have been Cylon agents the entire time. For a moment I thought we were getting somewhere when Tory snapped at Roslin, but she, too, seemed to recover from her petulance quickly.
Admittedly, I have a bias in favor of religion, and a large part of what fascinated me in the early episodes was the overtly evangelical language of Number Six and the unfolding colonial prophecies. The writers tried to return to prophecy and religion this season, but it has been altogether less coherent and relevant. That whole Kobol/Arrow of Apollo/Map to Earth thing from Season 1 was wicked cool. Last night we got a Viper with a GPS system. Instead of unlikely coincidences that suddenly appear to have been preordained, we got maybe one of the laziest deus ex machina moments since baroque opera went out of fashion.
And, alas, the final plot twist? I'm afraid I saw that coming, and not because I was feeling particularly intuitive. It just seemed obvious that this wasn't going to be what they were expecting. Of course, questions remain: who did it? Did the other Cylons get there first, or did the 13th tribe annihilate itself, as we ourselves seem on the brink of doing? And what do they do now? And maybe more importantly, do I still care?
Well, I hate to say it, but I found last night's "cliffhanger" disappointing. Battlestar Galactica has an amazing track record of putting on thrilling, surprising, revelatory finales. Think back to "Kobol's Last Gleaming: Pt. 2" or Admiral Cain launching alert fighters or Baltar surrendering to the Cylon occupiers. I had high hopes for last night; maybe that was my problem.
Those great episodes all share two things: a breakneck, exhilarating pace and a last-minute plot twist that leaves you infuriated that you have to wait for months to see the resolution. Last night wasn't fast-paced so much as it was rushed. Moments they have been setting up for years passed by quite perfunctorily. Honestly, I was more moved when Aidan found out Carrie was smoking again than when Starbuck learned Anders was a Cylon.
I didn't buy Adama's reaction to Tigh's "coming out" scene, either; it looked like he'd gotten dumped. I would have had a lot more questions for the Colonel, and would have felt incredulity more than rage and grief. The idea that a battle-traumatized and grief-stricken old man was going cuckoo is far more plausible than, "I'm a 60 year old robot," and I would have pressed to be convinced. Starbuck should have had Adama's blow-up scene, and vice versa.
Poor Tyrol! No one even cared that he's a Cylon. You'd think Athena, at least, would have something to say about that. The whole fleet seemed to adjust pretty easily to the discovery that the XO, the deck chief, the Caprican Pyramid star and the president's aide-de-camp have been Cylon agents the entire time. For a moment I thought we were getting somewhere when Tory snapped at Roslin, but she, too, seemed to recover from her petulance quickly.
Admittedly, I have a bias in favor of religion, and a large part of what fascinated me in the early episodes was the overtly evangelical language of Number Six and the unfolding colonial prophecies. The writers tried to return to prophecy and religion this season, but it has been altogether less coherent and relevant. That whole Kobol/Arrow of Apollo/Map to Earth thing from Season 1 was wicked cool. Last night we got a Viper with a GPS system. Instead of unlikely coincidences that suddenly appear to have been preordained, we got maybe one of the laziest deus ex machina moments since baroque opera went out of fashion.
And, alas, the final plot twist? I'm afraid I saw that coming, and not because I was feeling particularly intuitive. It just seemed obvious that this wasn't going to be what they were expecting. Of course, questions remain: who did it? Did the other Cylons get there first, or did the 13th tribe annihilate itself, as we ourselves seem on the brink of doing? And what do they do now? And maybe more importantly, do I still care?
Friday, June 13, 2008
BSG: Will All Be Revealed?
Tonight is the last episode of Battlestar Galactica before the show goes on a "mid-season" hiatus until 2009. Will we learn the identity of the Last Cylon?
For a long time -- ever since her disappearance at the end of Season 3 -- I've been worried that Kara Thrace/Starbuck was the last Cylon, but that storyline seems to be going in a different direction. The hybrid's pronouncement that she is "the Harbinger of Death" notwithstanding, I recently remembered the Season 1 episode when Leoben told Roslin, "Adama is a Cylon." Hmm. So I've been watching Season 4 trying to figure out if I can determine whether it's Lee or Bill. For a long time I was convinced it was Lee, but...now I'm not sure, again.
While Googling around today looking for clues, I landed on a site with a complicated theory that there are clues in the Season 4 Galactica/Last Supper spoof, with a rumor that the final cylon is not depicted in the picture, which would rule out Starbuck, Baltar, both Adamas and Roslin. They draw parallels between each character's position in the photo and the apostle they stand in for, noting that in the BSG version, "Judas" is conspicuously absent, thus concluding the empty seat is for the Final Cylon.
But they lost me when they said Caprica Six is Jesus (even though she's in his place) "because she is the one who is telling Baltar to spread the word of the one true God." Well, that's faulty, because Jesus was the one true God, and Jesus wasn't harping on the monotheistic angle because he came from a one-God tradition, i.e., the Jewish apostles. If that's the explanation they're offering, Caprica Six would be Paul, bringing the notion of one God to the polytheistic Greeks and Romans (and, pointedly, those are the gods of the Colonials).
But then I realized I was probably putting too much thought into it.
Anyway, Season 4 has dragged in places for my taste, but I thought last week was one of the best ever and I can't wait for tonight!
For a long time -- ever since her disappearance at the end of Season 3 -- I've been worried that Kara Thrace/Starbuck was the last Cylon, but that storyline seems to be going in a different direction. The hybrid's pronouncement that she is "the Harbinger of Death" notwithstanding, I recently remembered the Season 1 episode when Leoben told Roslin, "Adama is a Cylon." Hmm. So I've been watching Season 4 trying to figure out if I can determine whether it's Lee or Bill. For a long time I was convinced it was Lee, but...now I'm not sure, again.
While Googling around today looking for clues, I landed on a site with a complicated theory that there are clues in the Season 4 Galactica/Last Supper spoof, with a rumor that the final cylon is not depicted in the picture, which would rule out Starbuck, Baltar, both Adamas and Roslin. They draw parallels between each character's position in the photo and the apostle they stand in for, noting that in the BSG version, "Judas" is conspicuously absent, thus concluding the empty seat is for the Final Cylon.
But they lost me when they said Caprica Six is Jesus (even though she's in his place) "because she is the one who is telling Baltar to spread the word of the one true God." Well, that's faulty, because Jesus was the one true God, and Jesus wasn't harping on the monotheistic angle because he came from a one-God tradition, i.e., the Jewish apostles. If that's the explanation they're offering, Caprica Six would be Paul, bringing the notion of one God to the polytheistic Greeks and Romans (and, pointedly, those are the gods of the Colonials).
But then I realized I was probably putting too much thought into it.
Anyway, Season 4 has dragged in places for my taste, but I thought last week was one of the best ever and I can't wait for tonight!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Changing Face of Gay Pride
In last week’s edition of Portland’s gay paper JustOut, friend and columnist SMB suggested that this year we demonstrate our pride by skipping the parade. He laments the crass commercialization of the event by mega-corporations hoping to cash in on our patronage. He recalls the cold, rainy night on which thousands of Oregonians (myself notably excluded, mea culpa) gathered downtown to protest the delay of the state’s brand-new domestic partnership law by a judge who agreed to hear a challenge from an out-of-state conservative activist group, and essentially asks of the marketers, drag-queens, glitter-smeared party boys and shirtless lesbians, “Where were you when it mattered?”
Good points, all.
However, I would propose that we take a step back and re-assess what the annual pride celebrations are all about these days.
Two years ago, I wrote a long, personal, provocative (and much commented-on) post about what pride meant to me, and while I think those points still resonate, I also think now we might be allowed to celebrate as well as protest.
Let’s take a look at where things stand in the present moment. John McCain may not be the LGBT community’s best friend, but just a few weeks ago he appeared on the Ellen DeGeneres Show and, while saying he believed marriage should be reserved for one man and one woman, expressed support for some limited forms of recognition for same-sex couples. Compare this to 2004, when Howard Dean was labeled a hopeless left-wing extremist because Vermont permitted civil unions. This is a massive shift in public attitudes, when what was radically progressive just four years ago has become the default stance of the Republican nominee. On the Libertarian ticket, nominee Bob Barr has declared that the odious 1996 Defense of Marriage Act should be repealed; and he wrote it!
While Barack Obama has publicly drawn the line at civil unions, he also supports the full repeal of DOMA and DADT. He and Senator Clinton actively courted the support of GLBT voters in their primary campaigns. We used to be ignored and invisible, and after that we were vilified and made scapegoats. Now we’re pandered to. I call that progress.
Portland’s Pride Festival is this Sunday; just two days after that, California – the nation’s most populous state and the fifth-largest economy in the world – will start issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, following a protracted court battle that ended in the groundbreaking recognition that gay people are a suspect class. The Republican governor openly opposes amending the state constitution to repeal that right. The proposed amendment faces an uphill battle: recent polls now show a slim majority of Californians in favor of marriage equality, and the November ballot includes a Republican candidate who is unpopular with the family-values crowd and a Democratic candidate with fervent support among younger voters, who are overwhelmingly in favor of marriage equality (68% of 18-29 year-olds).
Back here in Oregon, today’s breaking news is that the petition effort to put the new domestic partnership laws on the November ballot has failed. Meanwhile, New York has determined that nothing in state law prevents them from recognizing same-sex marriages performed in Massachusetts, California or other jurisdictions where they are legal.
Obviously, there are still battles to be fought, and we’re not home-free yet, but when Republican presidential candidates sit down for cordial chats with out-lesbian talk-show hosts, we're in a completely different world.
We should think of the June pride celebrations as a commemoration of the Declaration of Independence that was thrown down by a bunch of drag queens at the Stonewall Riot 39 years ago this month. Just as the 4th of July is now a celebration born in struggle, I see no harm in partying on Pride. Yes, let’s still gather in the rain to protest injustice as it arises, but let’s acknowledge the amazing victories that have been won through our collective hard work over the last several decades.
So grab your cha-cha heels, dust yourself liberally with glitter, throw away your bra and let's march!
Good points, all.
However, I would propose that we take a step back and re-assess what the annual pride celebrations are all about these days.
Two years ago, I wrote a long, personal, provocative (and much commented-on) post about what pride meant to me, and while I think those points still resonate, I also think now we might be allowed to celebrate as well as protest.
Let’s take a look at where things stand in the present moment. John McCain may not be the LGBT community’s best friend, but just a few weeks ago he appeared on the Ellen DeGeneres Show and, while saying he believed marriage should be reserved for one man and one woman, expressed support for some limited forms of recognition for same-sex couples. Compare this to 2004, when Howard Dean was labeled a hopeless left-wing extremist because Vermont permitted civil unions. This is a massive shift in public attitudes, when what was radically progressive just four years ago has become the default stance of the Republican nominee. On the Libertarian ticket, nominee Bob Barr has declared that the odious 1996 Defense of Marriage Act should be repealed; and he wrote it!
While Barack Obama has publicly drawn the line at civil unions, he also supports the full repeal of DOMA and DADT. He and Senator Clinton actively courted the support of GLBT voters in their primary campaigns. We used to be ignored and invisible, and after that we were vilified and made scapegoats. Now we’re pandered to. I call that progress.
Portland’s Pride Festival is this Sunday; just two days after that, California – the nation’s most populous state and the fifth-largest economy in the world – will start issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples, following a protracted court battle that ended in the groundbreaking recognition that gay people are a suspect class. The Republican governor openly opposes amending the state constitution to repeal that right. The proposed amendment faces an uphill battle: recent polls now show a slim majority of Californians in favor of marriage equality, and the November ballot includes a Republican candidate who is unpopular with the family-values crowd and a Democratic candidate with fervent support among younger voters, who are overwhelmingly in favor of marriage equality (68% of 18-29 year-olds).
Back here in Oregon, today’s breaking news is that the petition effort to put the new domestic partnership laws on the November ballot has failed. Meanwhile, New York has determined that nothing in state law prevents them from recognizing same-sex marriages performed in Massachusetts, California or other jurisdictions where they are legal.
Obviously, there are still battles to be fought, and we’re not home-free yet, but when Republican presidential candidates sit down for cordial chats with out-lesbian talk-show hosts, we're in a completely different world.
We should think of the June pride celebrations as a commemoration of the Declaration of Independence that was thrown down by a bunch of drag queens at the Stonewall Riot 39 years ago this month. Just as the 4th of July is now a celebration born in struggle, I see no harm in partying on Pride. Yes, let’s still gather in the rain to protest injustice as it arises, but let’s acknowledge the amazing victories that have been won through our collective hard work over the last several decades.
So grab your cha-cha heels, dust yourself liberally with glitter, throw away your bra and let's march!
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
The New Racism
So, thanks to "Anonymous" and the links he posted, I've been given access to a whole new, scary world, an alternate universe of political reality. In the same way there are right-wing holdouts who insist that Saddam and Al Qaeda were in cahoots and that the WMD's are still there (or, as some versions go, were actually discovered and everyone knows it, but the "mainstream media" covered it up), it sadly appears there are "Democrats" who just know that the nomination was stolen from Hillary Clinton.
I'm not talking about disappointed Hillary supporters. I'm talking about people who hate Barack Obama.
Here's the theme that strikes me. In the minds of these folks, they're not racists. No, they are open-minded, genuine liberals and supporters of equality. It's Barack who's the racist.
I'm not talking about disappointed Hillary supporters. I'm talking about people who hate Barack Obama.
Here's the theme that strikes me. In the minds of these folks, they're not racists. No, they are open-minded, genuine liberals and supporters of equality. It's Barack who's the racist.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Controversial Church
“Obama Resigns from Controversial Church” reads the headline on CNN today.
I’m not going to go into the article itself; I didn’t even read it. I’m just fascinated by the headline. I am struck by the subtle but clear implication that churches should not be “controversial.”
What would a “non-controversial” church look like? I imagine the closest we might come would be Joel Osteen’s Lakewood megachurch in Houston, where services come with insipid, saccharine Christian pop interspersed with neutered, vague messages of self-empowerment: embrace Jesus, and your life will get better. But even this is controversial; it may not be inflammatory, but within the broad Christian world, Osteen’s gentle pabulum is widely considered heresy because his “Prosperity Gospel Lite” message flatly contradicts Christ’s teachings.
Osteen, however, is not out there calling the Catholic Church “the Great Whore,” or insisting that Hitler was God’s messenger, herding the Jews into Israel so that we can get moving with Armageddon, or peddling a wildly re-imagined history wherein America was founded by literalist evangelicals intent on destroying Islam. He is not making an ass of himself protesting military funerals with ugly anti-gay language, or concocting conspiracy theories involving the U.S. government and AIDS. He’s soft-spoken and polite. He smiles. He’s the kind of pastor of which CNN might approve.
What we’re dancing around, though, is the indisputable fact that Jesus was and remains a pretty controversial guy. If I had to summarize the New Testament in a single theme, it might well be the overthrow of the established order, beginning with Mary’s thundering outburst at the Annunciation – “He has shown strength with his arm and has scattered the proud in their conceit, casting down the mighty from their thrones and lifting up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”
Of course, there is comfort and solace to be found in the Holy Spirit, and churches and church communities have pastoral obligations to console the aggrieved, be companions to the lonely and encourage the frightened. But we are also called upon to stand up for the marginalized and the oppressed; we are called to be a voice for those who have none. It is, frankly, our Christian duty to be a little bit obnoxious. Shying away from controversy for the sake of appearance is not a Christian virtue, as convenient as it might be for a politician on the campaign trail.
I’m not going to go into the article itself; I didn’t even read it. I’m just fascinated by the headline. I am struck by the subtle but clear implication that churches should not be “controversial.”
What would a “non-controversial” church look like? I imagine the closest we might come would be Joel Osteen’s Lakewood megachurch in Houston, where services come with insipid, saccharine Christian pop interspersed with neutered, vague messages of self-empowerment: embrace Jesus, and your life will get better. But even this is controversial; it may not be inflammatory, but within the broad Christian world, Osteen’s gentle pabulum is widely considered heresy because his “Prosperity Gospel Lite” message flatly contradicts Christ’s teachings.
Osteen, however, is not out there calling the Catholic Church “the Great Whore,” or insisting that Hitler was God’s messenger, herding the Jews into Israel so that we can get moving with Armageddon, or peddling a wildly re-imagined history wherein America was founded by literalist evangelicals intent on destroying Islam. He is not making an ass of himself protesting military funerals with ugly anti-gay language, or concocting conspiracy theories involving the U.S. government and AIDS. He’s soft-spoken and polite. He smiles. He’s the kind of pastor of which CNN might approve.
What we’re dancing around, though, is the indisputable fact that Jesus was and remains a pretty controversial guy. If I had to summarize the New Testament in a single theme, it might well be the overthrow of the established order, beginning with Mary’s thundering outburst at the Annunciation – “He has shown strength with his arm and has scattered the proud in their conceit, casting down the mighty from their thrones and lifting up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.”
Of course, there is comfort and solace to be found in the Holy Spirit, and churches and church communities have pastoral obligations to console the aggrieved, be companions to the lonely and encourage the frightened. But we are also called upon to stand up for the marginalized and the oppressed; we are called to be a voice for those who have none. It is, frankly, our Christian duty to be a little bit obnoxious. Shying away from controversy for the sake of appearance is not a Christian virtue, as convenient as it might be for a politician on the campaign trail.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Turning Intentions to Action
So...erm, I guess I'm "coming out" in church today.
I mean, no, obviously, it's not like I'm "closeted" there, but there are those for whom sexuality seems to be somewhat opaque, and I've never made a big deal or "announced" my orientation publicly. That's about to change.
I have formed a small group, and for the first time in our parish history, our church will be represented in the Portland Gay Pride Parade this year. I did receive permission to do this, but was encouraged to keep our group discrete because of pastoral concerns about some church members who may not be totally comfortable with the idea. It was a compromise I was willing to accept, because I think even appearing in the parade at all is a big first step.
So, speaking privately to people I knew would be supportive, I set up a small network and was delighted that everyone I invited was interested. That was that, I thought, until a member of our clergy staff said, "Do you think you should announce it to the congregation?"
I said, "Hrmmm...well, I thought we were keeping this discrete?" But the priest had wondered if maybe there would be people who would feel upset if we didn't tell them and open it up to everyone; people who will be unhappy that we are going are going to be unhappy either way.
We decided to run it by the vestry, at which point one member reminded us that we recently voted to become a "welcoming and affirming" congregation, and pointed out that we would hardly be living up to that if we had to secretly march in the parade.
So here I am. I can hardly believe that all these years after quietly disappearing from church because I felt unworthy to attend as a gay person until I got "fixed," I'm going to stand up during a service and invite people to a gay pride parade.
I mean, no, obviously, it's not like I'm "closeted" there, but there are those for whom sexuality seems to be somewhat opaque, and I've never made a big deal or "announced" my orientation publicly. That's about to change.
I have formed a small group, and for the first time in our parish history, our church will be represented in the Portland Gay Pride Parade this year. I did receive permission to do this, but was encouraged to keep our group discrete because of pastoral concerns about some church members who may not be totally comfortable with the idea. It was a compromise I was willing to accept, because I think even appearing in the parade at all is a big first step.
So, speaking privately to people I knew would be supportive, I set up a small network and was delighted that everyone I invited was interested. That was that, I thought, until a member of our clergy staff said, "Do you think you should announce it to the congregation?"
I said, "Hrmmm...well, I thought we were keeping this discrete?" But the priest had wondered if maybe there would be people who would feel upset if we didn't tell them and open it up to everyone; people who will be unhappy that we are going are going to be unhappy either way.
We decided to run it by the vestry, at which point one member reminded us that we recently voted to become a "welcoming and affirming" congregation, and pointed out that we would hardly be living up to that if we had to secretly march in the parade.
So here I am. I can hardly believe that all these years after quietly disappearing from church because I felt unworthy to attend as a gay person until I got "fixed," I'm going to stand up during a service and invite people to a gay pride parade.
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