The Holidaze

Due to the fact that it's Christmas and New Year's and such, I haven't had much time to write.  Therefore, this little video I made Christmas Day will have to suffice for the week's philosophical musings.  It's extremely rough (I made it on my iPod) and the music is slightly cheesy, but enjoy! 

We Are Family!! (or are we?)

Mawaige.  Mawaige [and family] is wat bwings us togetha ... today.
(isn't this photo gorgeous?!)

Family is a messy word. Like Dr. Suess characters, today’s family comes in many different shapes and sizes. It might include a dad, or it might omit a mother – or it might include two mothers! Or it might not include any parental figures at all, and simply consist of a brotherhood (which may/may not consist of blood siblings). It’s the era of the non-traditional family.

That's not to say that my generation doesn't value family. We do. It’s just that we’ve discovered that blood isn’t much thicker than water and that marriage doesn’t equal happily-ever-after. Relatives are regular people after all: people who might be selfish or who might be kind, people who might get me or people who might rub me wrong. And so we’re looking elsewhere for long-term, committed relationships of love, support, and self-sacrifice. We don’t expect our parents or siblings to be our family. More often than not, it’s my friends who are the truer community of understanding and support. Or so it seems.

I think we accidentally boiled “family” down to “friendship.” We were trying to burn off the crud that ails most traditional families – i.e.: personal misunderstandings, ego, authoritarian abuses – but we inadvertently evaporated the distinction between “family” and “friendship.” Your friends should love you unconditionally, defend you in all situations, and advise you to do the right thing. That is the definition of a good friend. But that’s all it is – friendship. It’s not family. Family entails much more than just love, loyalty, and advice. It entails responsibility, roles, and rights. Your family shouldn’t just be advising you, they should be training you – disciplining you. And they shouldn’t just be encouraging you or defending your various endeavors; they should be protecting and providing for you. Family isn’t just the place where you learn about friendship, it’s also the place where you learn about authority. And I know we don’t like authority much these days, but it’s kind of a part of life. But when it’s properly mixed with love, it’s not such a bad thing ... and cue film-related tangent:

Ok, so have you ever seen the movie Catch Me if You Can?  I rented it a few months ago, expecting to enjoy an outrageously funny caper movie.  Instead I got to watch a family fall apart on screen.  Not quite as much fun. Basically, the premise is this sixteen year old kid named Frank (aka Leonardo DiCaprio) runs away after his parents get a divorce, on a mission to earn enough money to repair their relationship.  He fakes his way all over the world, stealing millions by impersonating people with high-profile careers (a pilot, a doctor, a lawyer, etc.), all the while being chased by an FBI agent named Carl (aka Tom Hanks). 

Anyways, at one point during the story, after Frank's been running a while and is feeling the strain of his choices, he meets up with his dad for dinner. And Frank asks his dad to make him stop running. But his dad, who's never taught Frank to respect boundaries or authority, simply says, "You can't. You can't let them get you." And Frank just wilts. It's not very loud or ostentatious, but it's a very clear meltdown. And he resumes his running, this time solely for the purpose of outfoxing the FBI agent, for the love of the chase. And it's a downward spiral. 

In the end, the person who ends up being Frank's truest father figure is the FBI agent Carl, the embodiment of rules and authority. As he chases Frank down, forcing Frank to submit to society, Carl unwittingly develops a connection with Frank. And he begins to display honest concern for Frank's well-being and rights, bartering to get Frank out of French prisons and into American courts, offering him a job with the FBI, working in fraud detection, trusting him to find a place in society. Ultimately, it's Carl who sets Frank on the path of healing  from his family's dysfunction and destruction.

... and resume post. The thing is family should be more than just a safe place of unconditional love and support. It should be your safe place of unconditional love and support. The place you have rights to, eternally and irrevocably. It ought to be an unbreakable community. Which explains a lot of the pain that comes from families that don’t act like families. And I think that pain is compounded by the fact that the family unit is inherently unbreakable. It really is. Because it’s the foundation of life.

Every person in the world has a family. Every person in the world has a biological father and a biological mother. Regardless of how you were conceived, whom you were raised by, or whom you consider you true family, you have a pair of genetic predecessors. A father and a mother. You can’t change that relationship status, not like you can with friends or romantic partners. It’s irreversible. A fact of life. And I don’t think science is ever going to figure out a way around it. (insert shameless plug for cloning post) Which is why it’s so sad when parents don’t love each other – maybe they never did, or maybe they just don’t anymore. It’s heart-breaking. Or when parents don’t love their kids. Or when kids don’t love their parents. Which is a little more common these days.

I have a hunch that your view of "family" changes dramatically when you become a parent. Because parents bear most of the responsibility in the family unit. After all, children eventually grow up into adults, who eventually start their own families. So kids are naturally moving away from their birth family unit. But parents can't outgrow their second round of family, the family they birthed.

Your second round of family. Oye. That's where things get a little murkier. Because you have to choose that relationship; it’s not a pre-chosen for you. (unless you’re doing that arranged marriage thing, which is pretty old school and not really my cup of tea, but I guess it works for some people) Regardless, it's a fluid situation. The relationship is chooseable, changeable, disposable – it’s not a fact of life for anyone!

Or at least, not until kids are involved. That's when the reversible becomes irreversible.  Because now your relationship is a fact of life for someone. And you have responsibilities. Because you have a family now.

The Ugly Duckling: a personal fairytale

Vanity and devilry, better known as "makeup" and "fashion."
Photo by Shannon (but editing by Moi).

And now a tale about a certain young girl's battle with the fearsome beasts known as Makeup and Fashion. Let’s get the facts straight:

1. I was the first of my sisters to grow up (aka I’m the oldest kid in the fam). Which means I faced the makeup/fashion battle alone.
2. Also, I grew up in the MECCA, so naturally I assumed that makeup and fashion were very worldly things that only vain supermodels were concerned about.
3. Plus I grew up watching movies about girls who were too busy being tomboys to care about blow-drying their hair or plucking their eyebrows. And yet they all managed to turn out beautiful! (I call it “The Curse of the Movie Star”)

So add all that up and you get one teenage girl who thinks that if you just eat healthy, brush your hair, and try to match your shoes with your shirt, you wouldn’t need to worry about makeup or fashion. Naively she assumes that the natural is the most beautiful. *sigh* What adorable ignorance.

Well, the hormones struck and my hair texture changed without informing me, and all of a sudden I was sticking out like a sore thumb from all my classmates. And because I’d shunned makeup during the preteen years (the years when it’s appropriate to overdue the eye-shadow and the body glitter), I found myself in high school, severely lacking in the makeup/fashion skills and unable to perform the necessary experiments to gain competency. It was a tough situation.

[WARNING:  rambling rant/tangent ahead] Seriously, I didn’t figure out how to tame my mane until I was a senior in high school.  In fact, I didn't even realize I had curly hair until 10th grade! Which is ironic considering that I look like Shirley Temple these days. And let me tell you: working with curly hair is way different from working with straight hair (i.e. brushing = death for curls). So, basically, I was a duckling-who-thought-she-was-a-swanling, and consequently looked nothing like a swan or a duck. Not so awesome.

Anyways … like I said, I didn’t have any older sisters to point me in the right direction, and all my girlfriends were pretty much tomboys suffering from Movie Star Curse, so they weren’t much help either. Plus with this curly haired thing going on, any hair advice I did get wasn’t much help. Now I’m sure my Mom tried to step in and help, but I was pretty dead-set on not messing with something as silly as makeup or fashion.  But I couldn’t help noticing how pretty the other girls looked and how not-pretty I looked. So underneath all my blustering “no-nonsense” was a creeping embarrassment and fear about makeup and fashion, which only fueled my refusals for help.

And right about then, my younger sisters hit the teen years. Somehow (probably a result of observing my bad example) they had managed to dive right into the whole fashion/makeup realm, and they got real good at it. And, boom, they were beautiful. Plus they both got taller than me. Which means not only was I the most immature-looking sister (with regards to hair/clothes), but I also was the shortest sister. So naturally people began to assume that I was the 13 yr old (rather than the 17 yr old). I cannot tell you how much that ate at me. Still eats at me. DAH!!

Anywho, the fact that my younger sisters knew more about makeup than I did wasn’t exactly an incentive to ask them for help. So I was in quite the quandary.  A spinning top of vanity, self-doubt, and fear - and whispies that would not lie flat no matter how hard I brushed, and always stuck out over my ears, making me look like an elf. And not a cute elf either. More like Alberta Einstein.

Meanwhile I was getting frustrated with the MECCA. It seemed to preach that you didn’t need fashion or makeup to be beautiful. And yet at the same time, even MECCAite women dressed fashionably and with makeup, and they seemed to expect me to do the same! The strange thing was, I didn’t consider those ladies vain or silly for dressing nice or wearing makeup. I thought them beautiful! And I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror. Call it cultural conditioning or social pressures or whatever, but I desperately wished to be fashionable and made up. Like those ladies. But it didn’t line up with my understanding of God and His plan and I was adamant that I would not be a hypocrite. I think maybe I could define most of my teenage angst in this specific tension: rejecting the non-MECCAite culture, while feeling an inherent pull towards it (sort of like the gravitational pull that a planet exerts on a moon), and being unable to reconcile that tension.

Well thank goodness a certain MECCAite magazine (Brio, woot-woot) stepped in and set me straight. I was reading an article about how to avoid a bad school photo. There were three types of photos/characters being discussed: 

• One was “The Slob,” a girl who didn’t brush her hair or use any makeup and was basically greased lightning. Which obviously didn’t apply to me because I brushed my hair and washed my face each night, duh.
• And then there was “The Flirt” who was wearing an entire bottle of mascara as well as some very bright lipstick. And I obviously wasn’t in any danger of overdoing my lipstick (or even owning lipstick for that matter), so it didn’t apply either.
• And then there was the third picture: “The … ….” Shoot, I don’t remember her name. Well, essentially she was “The Good Girl Who Got It Right.” But when I read her commentary, I was shocked to find Brio ENCOURAGING good Christian girls TO WEAR MAKEUP!!! And not just a little cover-up, but blush and eye shadow! Which fall a little lower on the totem pole of “make-up essentials” in my humble opinion.

In other words, they were instructing girls to wear more than just the basics. Also, I found fashion – GASP- articles in other Brio magazines!!! (unfortunately my mags were from the 90’s so I couldn’t utilize any of the advice - ironic, no?)

Anywho, I was dumbfounded. Train wreck. In my mind.

Here – in print – was a full out admission of what I’d been suspecting all along. And, honestly, I was relieved. Because, like I said, I felt a very hard pull towards makeup and fashion. I sensed it was a critical part of my becoming a young woman, and in spite of my beliefs about it, I was aching to go. Which caused a lot of inner turmoil because I couldn’t reconcile that desire with the Christian ideal: the naturally beautiful/modest girl who didn’t wear makeup and gave no consideration for the rest of the culture defined as “pretty.” Except now, with this Brio article, I had the truth.

Although I still didn’t really understand how playing along with society’s current makeup/fashion trends honored God, I figured that if Brio was flat-out instructing on it, it must be condonable. Maybe it was one of those things that’s not God’s ideal, but is just a result of living in a fallen world. As they say, “If the barn needs painting, paint the barn.” And so I decided makeovers and manicures were no longer a No-Fly Zone.

Please note that I didn’t immediately throw out all my rules about modesty, self-respect, and health. The only thing I threw out was the idea that it’s wrong to be concerned about how you look compared to the rest of society. Now, several years later, I’ve come to realize that personal upkeep is actually an opportunity to “manage the earth,” and to create with the Creator. It’s an opportunity for artistry and worship - it’s stewardship on a very personal level.

And as far as looking towards pop culture for inspiration goes, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is extremely natural (aka God-ordained) to participate in a larger community of people. And community begets culture. Therefore, it is acceptable – honorable even – to engage in culture.  Dressing in (relatively) current fashions is an expression of mutual understanding and solidarity with others.  It lets people know that you're aware of the world around you and that you have respect for the community at large.  Which signals that people can trust you, that you're coherent and tracking.  Which encourages good things like communication and community.  And true, sometimes you can't commune with the zeitgeist, because it violates standards of modesty/self-respect/health.  But hopefully you're fluent enough to communicate why you can't commune.

This story doesn’t end with the ugly duckling growing up and discovering that she’s a beautiful swan. Instead, the story ends with an ugly duckling realizing that she has permission to grow up and try to become a beautiful swan.  That the pursuit of physical "secular" beauty is not a forbidden forest.  And eventually the ugly duckling realizes that she’s actually just a duck and not a swan.  But she’s ok with that, because she’s having too much fun figuring out how to work her God-given color tones.

Plus she just bought some sparkly brown eyeliner that she’s really excited about.  :D

Guidelines for Ethical Cloning

So this one summer (the summer of 2010, to be exact) I took a distance education course in Ethics.  Towards the end of the course, I had to write a position paper on something controversial.  I decided to write about cloning, and since I always enjoy shaking things up, I decided to write in support of cloning (heh-heh).  Anyways, I found the topic to be pretty interesting and the paper was decent, so I thought I'd put it up here for anyone who's interested.  Please enjoy!  (unfortunately blogger doesn't do footnotes, so you'll just have to trust that I gave proper citation in the original document)

"Guidelines for Ethical Cloning"

In 1996, a sheep named Dolly was born. Although the nature of her birth was unremarkable, she gained international fame on account of the details of her conception. Dolly was a clone, a somatic nuclear transfer clone to be exact. Since then, the idea of cloning has danced around the square of public consciousness … and conscience, provoking many condemnations an unethical procedure. It is my intention in this paper to argue that reproductive cloning, specifically somatic nuclear transfer cloning, is an ethical activity, provided it recognizes personhood, supports human life, and adheres to the principles of the traditional family unit. For the purposes of this paper, I will assume that audiences agree with me that respecting personhood, human life, and the traditional family is ethical.

Before addressing how cloning should recognize personhood, life, and family, allow me to engage one of the most pressing objections to the ethicality of cloning, namely that cloning is “playing God.” In other words, it is unethical to alter the natural processes of human reproduction. However, altering the natural processes of human birth, life, and death through cesarean birthing, medicine, and AED’s has long been accepted as ethical, so long as they respect life. I see no reason why human reproduction should not be afforded the same status. Oftentimes this objection comes from people who believe that messing with the natural reproduction process dishonors God. However, it could be argued that manipulating natural processes is part of God’s call for man to subdue and rule the earth. Thus, cloning is not so much “playing God” as it is “playing man.”

Also, please note that this paper simply addresses the ethics of cloning; it does not address the legislation of or uses for cloning. There is a fine line between ethics and legislature. Some of my arguments may be impossible or unfair to legislate, but that is beside the point of this paper. In addition, many of my arguments may restrict cloning to situations in which it has little appeal. For example, one of the primary attractions of cloning is that it could provide children for couples unable to naturally reproduce children. My argument would not allow that, which may indeed render cloning a useless technology. That too is beside the point of my paper. I wish to simply outline a manner in which somatic nuclear transfer cloning could be an ethical procedure. Legislature and functionality can come later.

Simply put, the natural reproduction process consists of fertilization, pregnancy, and birth. It begins when a sperm cell fertilizes an egg cell. Unlike most cells, the sperm and egg cells, also known as germ cells, contain only one set of chromosomes a piece. All other cells, called somatic cells, contain two sets of chromosomes, the amount necessary to form DNA. When the sperm and egg fuse together, the two sets of chromosomes combine to form brand new DNA; a new organism has been produced. Almost immediately, the fertilized egg starts dividing into multiple cells. Soon, the mass of cells, also called an embryo, attaches itself to its mother’s uterus, where it develops until birth.

In somatic nuclear transfer cloning, the fertilization process looks very different, although the pregnancy and birth processes are virtually indistinguishable. A nucleus is taken from a somatic cell donation; thus it contains two sets of chromosomes and fully-developed DNA. Then, a donated egg is enucleated, which is to say, its nucleus is removed. It is critical to note here that, because eggs are germ cells, their nuclei do not contain full sets of chromosomes. Thus, the removal of an egg’s nucleus does not amount to the destruction of a new organism. Then, the somatic nucleus and the enucleated egg are fused together. In order to replicate the cell division which occurs after fertilization and allows the organism to grow, the fused nucleus and egg are treated with either electrical pulses or chemicals. Once the organism is large enough, it is transferred back into a uterus, where it will develop until birth.

For somatic nuclear transfer cloning to be ethical, it must recognize the personhood of the clone. Essentially, a clone is just the delayed twin of its DNA donor. Thus, it should be considered as much of a person as a natural identical twin. To recognize the clone’s personhood means that one must assume that a clone is capable of the all physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual abilities of a naturally produced person. In addition, they should receive the same moral, legal, personal, and social rights and responsibilities. Of course, clones must also receive the same grace for deficiencies as naturally produced handicapped people receive.

Along the same lines, a clone must not be expected to match their DNA donor’s abilities exactly; genes do influence abilities, but so do life experiences and temperament. In fact, personality is often the distinguishing factor between as natural identical twins, impacting their abilities and achievements far more than genetics. This is another critical element of recognizing the clone’s personhood: expecting the development of a unique individual. Each clone will have their own personality, values, and goals, and they must be allowed to pursue those goals as much as anyone else.

Furthermore, if somatic nuclear transfer cloning is to be ethical, clones must have a right to life. This means that during the cloning process, no life should be destroyed or damaged. Of course, this calls into question the definition of life and its beginnings. When discussing natural reproduction, the most ethical answer seems to be that life begins from conception. For many people, the idea that human life begets nothing other than human life is enough to convince them that personhood begins at conception. Others are not so sure, and they have the difficult task of deciding when an organism becomes a person. The safest answer, of course, is from conception. Thus, conception seems to be the most ethical definition of life in the reproduction process.

However, when dealing with somatic nuclear transfer cloning, the question is a bit murkier, because conception is the very process being tampered with. No new DNA is formed to help distinguish the creation of a distinct organism. However, seeing as natural conception consists of an egg acquiring a full set of chromosomes, the closest parallel in the cloning process would be when the enucleated egg fuses with the somatic nucleus, thereby acquiring a full set of chromosomes. Some may object that fused egg and nucleus shouldn’t be considered a live organism because without chemical or electric treatment, the cells won’t begin to divide like a normal zygote. While this is true, it does not alter the fact that an egg has received a full set of chromosomes, which in the natural process would be considered conception – the beginning of life.

This counter-argument highlights the fact that the cloning process is extremely delicate and requires much assistance from the outside world. Great care must be taken if cloning is to be an ethical process in which no life, as previously defined, is destroyed or damaged. Currently, somatic nuclear transfer cloning is not a very successful practice. In the case of Dolly, over 270 enucleated eggs and somatic nuclei were fused and treated, but less than thirty embryos resulted. Of the embryos implanted in the uteruses of surrogate mothers, only thirteen lambs survived. And of the thirteen lambs who developed, only one survived the birthing process: Dolly. In addition, scientists have noted that cloned animals of other experiments often have genetic disorders, dying young or being abnormally sized. Clearly, if cloning is to be an ethical process, it should not be utilized on human reproduction until the success rates have improved in animal cloning. Not that cloning must have a one-hundred percent success rate before it becomes ethical to engage in. However, the success rates of cloning “conception,” embryonic growth, uterus implantation, and birth ought to match natural success rates. Furthermore, it would be unethical to engage in human cloning when the ratio of healthy to unhealthy off-spring is significantly less than natural ratios.

Finally, as part and parcel of a clone’s right to life, all clones have a right to be birthed. That is to say, no fused enucleated egg and somatic nucleus should be frozen and stored in a warehouse indefinitely. Unfortunately, that has been the fate of many embryos formed as a result of genetic and reproductive research. Instead, the clones must be respected as human beings with a right to life.

Additionally, for Somatic Nuclear Transfer Cloning to be an ethical means of reproduction, it must adhere to the principles of the traditional family unit. This has major ramifications for who should be in the business of cloning, the cloning process itself, as well as what life will look like post-birth for the clones. Just as natural procreation occurs as a result of the relationship between a married heterosexual couple, so artificial procreation should occur out of the relationship between a married heterosexual couple. Therefore, only married, heterosexual couples should engage in the production of clones. Conversely, unmarried singles or couples, along with homosexual couples, should not engage in cloning.

In addition, the traditional family unit defines children as the genetic offspring of the parents’ union. In other words, clones must be the biological children of the parents who will raise them. This has a number of specific implications for the cloning process, for both the somatic nucleus, or DNA, donation and the egg donation. If the clone must be the parents’ biological off-spring, then cloning someone outside of the family – for example, a famous person, an old deceased friend, or even a historical person – is out of the question. Additionally, neither of the parents can clone themselves. For one thing, the clone’s DNA would not be the genetic union of both parents’ DNA. In fact, it would actually be the genetic offspring of the donor’s parents; in effect, the resulting clone would be the parent’s sibling. It would not be in keeping with the traditional family unit for a person to raise their sibling as their child.

Thus far I’ve only discussed the ethics of the DNA donation; now I shall discuss the ethics of the egg donation. It is critical to note here that while the majority of a clone’s DNA comes from the nucleus of the somatic cell, the clone will pick up some DNA contained in the mitochondria of the egg. Therefore, it is critical that animal eggs never be used. In one experiment, researchers fused a human somatic nucleus with the egg of cow. Although people may debate the ethical nature of fusing human DNA and animal DNA, it seems clear that doing so is at least a violation of the traditional family unit.

If cloning is to be ethical and respect the traditional family unit, the egg donation must not only be human, but it must come from within the family. More specifically, the egg donation ought to come from the mother of the DNA donor. Since the clone will be the sibling of the DNA donor, it ought to be “carried” by an egg of the mother of the DNA donor. To do so otherwise would be to introduce a third party, giving the clone would have two genetic mothers. Such a situation would certainly be a violation of the traditional family unit.

However, the concept of the traditional family unit extends far beyond simple procreation; it also includes child-rearing. If cloning is to be ethical, then all clones must be viewed as children, children who have families. In fact, it might be fair to say that clones have a right to be raised by their biological parents. As previously discussed, all “frozen” nucleated eggs ought to be unfrozen and birthed, but furthermore they must be unfrozen and birthed by their parents. This principle too should prevent the widespread cloning of historical figures, people whose families are long since gone. As tempting as that idea is, it would be a violation of the traditional family unit and thus an unethical use of cloning.

Additionally, the clone must grow up as an equal member of the family. That is, the clone must be respected as an individual, a unique and precious child. They must not be treated as anything less than their naturally-produced sibling. This not only also shows respect for the clone’s personhood, but it’s also in keeping with the traditional family unit in which all the children are equally loved and valued.

Clearly, reproductive cloning could be used in unethical ways, ways which do not respect personhood, human life, or the traditional family unit. But that does not mean that somatic nuclear transfer cloning itself is an unethical practice. After all, there are many ways to render natural reproduction unethical too, as in the case of rape, abortion, or out-of-wedlock births. Regardless of whether it’s natural or artificial, reproduction’s ethicality depends on whether or not it respects personhood, human life, and the traditional family unit. Therefore, even somatic nuclear transfer cloning has the potential to be an ethical practice.

 

Bibliography

• Animal Research.info. "Cloning Dolly the Sheep." Available from http://www.animalresearch.info/en/medical/timeline/Dolly. Internet; accessed 31 July 2010.
• "Details of hybrid clone revealed." BBC News (1999): BBC. [online.] June 18, 1999.
• Harris, John and Simona Giordano (2003). Cloning. In E. Craig (Ed.), Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy. London: Routledge. Retrieved July 31, 2010, from http://0-www.rep.routledge.com.clicnet4.clic.edu/article/L142SECT4.
• Hoffman DI, Zellman GL, Fair CC, Mayer JF, Zeitz, JG, Gibbons WE, and Turner, TG. "How Many Frozen Human Embryos Are Available for Research?" RAND Law and Health. Available from http://www.rand.org/pubs/research_briefs/RB9038/index1.html. Internet; accessed 3 August 2010.
• The University of Utah. "What is Cloning?." Genetic Science Learning Center. Available from http://learn.genetics.utah.edu/content/tech/cloning/whatiscloning/. Internet; accessed 31 July 2010.
• U.S. Department of Energy Genome Programs, "Cloning Fact Sheet." Human Genome Project Information. Available from http://www.ornl.gov/sci/techresources/Human_Genome/elsi/cloning.shtml#whatis. Internet; accessed 31 July 2010.

History & Identity

made this a few years ago.  sometimes I like to pretend that I'm a cartoon artist.

Last Friday night, I watched a movie called “Unknown.” No, not the one with Aslan (aka Liam Neeson) - the one with Jesus (aka Jim Caviezel).

Anyways, it had a really interesting storyline – five guys wake up, locked inside a warehouse, with no memory of who they are or how they got there. From the blood, the wounds, and a rather conveniently-placed newspaper (a little too convenient in my opinion), they figure out that two of them are hostages and three of them are kidnappers. But they don’t know who’s who! What erupts is an interesting situation in which people waver between forming shaky alliances and fighting for personal power/security. You see a lot of the human condition coming out – selfishness, ego, altruism, compassion, mistrust, etc. Three of the guys become especially close and begin to work together to try and break out before the other kidnappers get back. But obviously, at least one of them is a kidnapper. One states that regardless of who they were, their decisions in the warehouse are what’s going to define them from then on. And so they choose to trust each other. Sort of.

But as bits and pieces of their memories start to come back, they’re forced to reconsider where their loyalties lie. One guy realizes that he was with the kidnappers. And he doesn’t like that. But he can’t ignore the reality of who he is and what he’s done (and the consequences waiting for him).

It’s crazy, the impact memory has on a person’s identity! I was tempted to scream at the TV, “Dude, who cares what you did before, just do the right thing now!” And maybe that would ring true when you don’t really remember what you’ve done. You’re kind of a blank slate. But it’s not that simple, not when you start to remember who you are. Not just what you’ve done, as if you’re looking at your deeds through a glass window, but remembering who you are – remembering yourself in the moment of those deeds. You may not like what you’re doing, but it’s YOU doing it – you’re still inherently tied to yourself. You are the composite of your past choices and experiences. And even if you didn’t make all those choices (for example, maybe you didn’t choose to be born a white girl in the year 2000), those experiences still brought you here. So you’re inherently linked, indebted, related to them. Like your parents.

Not that we’re totally bound by the past – at one point, the past was today. And tomorrow, today’s choices will be the past. So current decisions are not determined by previous choices/circumstances. But current decisions are frequently informed by previous decisions. Like the guy in the warehouse. Learning that he was a kidnapper almost sent him over the edge. Knowledge of history defines your identity which determines your choices.

I’ve seen this history--> identity--> choices phenomenon play out in my own life, actually. Not that I’m a kidnapper with amnesia or anything. But I do have a weakness for binge reading. Yes, binge reading, in which one ignores all responsibilities and simply reads through a whole book in one sitting. I know I should be doing my laundry, writing emails, preparing for tomorrow, ect … but I want to keep reading, so I keep going (legit desire, fulfilled inappropriately). Eventually I’m sick of reading. But I don’t want to face the fact that I just wasted my whole day and haven’t gotten anything done, so I keep reading (avoidance of guilt). The next stage is where I realize that I’m actually mad at myself for giving into my inner book zombie. I’m not having fun and I’m not amused with myself. Good time to stop, right? Right, except now I’m in a rut. I continue reading – I’m just a greedy little book zombie at heart, so quitting now doesn’t mean anything. I’m not condoning it, I just feel tied to it, like I can’t stop because that’s what I’ve done – it’s poisoned me and all my future choices. And so I read until exhaustion and fall asleep. I’m sure this sounds really strange to the outsider observer, but I can tell you that it’s a very powerful force.

The funny thing is that sometimes, the next morning when I first wake up, I don’t remember the night before. And so I smile sweetly up at God, and skip about, getting myself ready for the day, like a responsible little girl. Except as soon as I see the book and remember what happened, my will to do good is crushed. And my relationship with God instantly sours.

What’s changed? Nothing. Only my perception of myself, my history, my identity. I’m more compelled to be good when I think of myself as a good girl, who hasn’t sinned very recently. And I’m more prone to continue in my sins when I think of myself as a selfish zombie. This isn’t a self-talk promotion. I shouldn’t just ignore my zombie past. If I try to white-wash it as “innocent fun” or something else equally good-girlish/excusable, I’m simply deluding myself. I am a zombie. And I know that that doesn’t mean I have to be a zombie today. But I can’t deny the existence of my inner zombie, especially not in front of God.

Which is something that the movie didn’t address. There’s a moment when the kidnapper guy remembers that he had a daughter – which gives him hope to persevere, do the right thing, and get away from the other kidnappers. One of his buddies tells to him, “Maybe you just forgot who you were before you were a kidnapper.” But I think that’s too convenient. The truth is we do ugly things. And those things become a part of our identities. Ergo, we have ugly identities, even if we had “pure” identities before. We may be victims, but we are also villains. And we can’t just blot that out.  We cannot change the past. Which makes it hard to change the future.

And that’s where Jesus comes in. You know the whole “My identity is in Christ,” phrase that gets thrown around the MECCA a lot? Well, I think that’s a very powerful phrase. Not in the sense that Jesus is the definition of my personality. But in the sense that my union with Christ gives me an alternate history/identity to work off of when I get stuck in a sin rut. I’m not denying my identity. I’m owning it, before God, and accepting the due penalty (death). But when I die with Christ, I also survive death with him. And I get his identity, his history.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. 2 Corinthians 5:17-21

"Boys are Stupid"

"Kerry" probably has a thing for "Andrew A."
(photo credit to myself)

“Boys are stupid.”

Many a girl has spewed those words in a fit of infatuated rage. And the phrase is usually followed with a tale of a romantic intrigue, love triangulation, and an attractive but oblivious male with an infuriating Cupid-immunity. Or at least, that’s how most of the girls I interviewed (just kidding, this isn’t scientific) justified the phrase. But then most of the girls I talk to are boy-crazy college gals, which isn’t exactly a fair demographic. Although … I have heard it from older women too … primarily in the context of forgotten anniversaries/tactless remarks/yet-to-be-fulfilled promises/etc.

Nevertheless, I’ve always thought the generalization was rather unfair. Until one day it hit me … boys are kind of stupid. They – generally speaking – do not pick up on the social subtleties, the nonverbal and unstated (yet extremely meaningful) relational hints that girls give. Like the “Hey, would you help me fix my car” line, which obviously translates to “I like you, and I think you’re cool, and I think that WE PROBABLY OUGHTA HANG OUT MORE OFTEN!!!”**   sigh   So obviously obvious.

So, yes, boys are stupid when it comes to romance. Thank the Maker. Because girls are ridiculously silly when it comes to romance.

Girls. Oye. How shall I describe them? Hypersensitive, manipulative, hormonal (need I go on?), vain, overly-jealous, drama queens (yes, I needed to go on). And if the boys ever caught on to how truly silly the girls were … well, we might not have a human race.

So the next time, girls, when you’re freaking out (screaming underwater, practicing Lamaze at stoplights, crying over a pint of ice cream, etc.) because your target isn’t falling into any of the traps you’re setting, just stop. And be grateful. Because he’s also not going to call security when you “randomly” walk by his locker every Tuesday morning. Or calculate the awkwardness of your every conversation. Or schedule a counseling session to help you get a grip on your mania. Count them blessings, girls, count them blessings.

Bottom line: boys are stupid because girls are silly. It’s a survival technique. Thank the Maker.

**This does not guarantee the flirtatious nature of every female plea for vehicular assistance. Exercise caution, use the Force, and don’t sue me.

The Gulag

A sad little fly who doesn't know where his life is going anymore. 
Photo credit to Shannon McGregor

Coming home has been a difficult adjustment. Which is weird. Because I love home. I love my family. But … I’m not happy here anymore. And I’m not entirely sure why.

Except that I feel like I’ve been left behind in the middle of nowhere. I can feel my thoughts and ideas and personality fading out like a beach towel that's been exposed to the sun for too long. And not only are my ideas draining away, but my confidence levels are also dropping quickly. Which means I’m losing energy and initiative – fast.

It gets better when I work at the shop, but it hits hard as soon as I’m off-duty. Sometimes I don’t even want to go home after my shift because I know how bad the rest of my afternoon is going to be. Today Vic (a friend of the family) came into the coffee shop and asked how life in the Gulag is going. Which was a funny intrusion of reality into my happy little coffee shop dream world.

The Gulag. That’s my nickname for life at home. Just a colorful way to say “being stuck out in a barren wasteland, cut off from any place where I can do anything of significance, filling my days with trivial activities instead.”

Vic told me a story of how soldiers used to struggle with coming home from the war. Because they’d been living in an adrenaline-filled environment for so long that they couldn’t get traction in civilian life. During the war, they faced the possibility of dying every morning they went out. And then coming home each night meant that you’d survived – you’d beaten the odds! And you’d accomplished something worthwhile. There was an awareness of the reality of things, the greatness of things. That’s what they’d been living with. And then they came home to the mundane things of life, to the unhurried, to the petty … it was difficult.

He said that that’s what college is kind of like (emphasis on “kind of”). Constant deadlines, adrenaline-enforced schedules, and idealistic conversations. And to come home, to be off that schedule, to be out of that big-picture environment … it’s difficult. I was surprised with how much this rang true to me.

For the past three school years and this past summer, I’ve lived and breathed college life (and set life, which is surprisingly similar). I’ve had to work round the clock, late nights, early mornings, 14-hour days on my feet. And I’ve loved it. Loved it. But now, I’m at home with nothing to do. And I’m floundering. I still find myself trying to live the college kid’s schedule: staying up late, getting up early, downing the caffeine to stay awake. Which is silly. Because I finally have time and the freedom to do whatever I want. I could actually get 8 hours of sleep if I wanted to. And yet I find myself staying up late. Too used to scraping by on 6 or 7 hours, I guess.

You know when you’re flying downhill on a bike, and you try to pedal, but your legs just jerk because there’s no resistance in the chain? That’s how I’ve been feeling. I feel extremely restless – I’m not a part of anything bigger than myself right now. And I’m aching to find another project. But what’s the point of pedaling if you can’t get any traction?

I’m also frustrated because I don’t have a posse anymore.  For the past few years, I’ve lived as a part of close-knit community. And I’ve become extremely extraverted and communicative. So much so that I struggle to even think or emote properly without a buddy to share my daily thoughts and questions and fears with. I’m not saying I don’t have friends out here. But I don’t have my roommates. Or the girls I entrusted my secrets with. Or the buddies who ventured into uncharted filming territory with me. I miss my pals something terrible. And there’s a part of me that I can’t access without them.

That’s the thing: I’ve lost my team, my unit. And I’ve lost a part of my identity with them.

I worked hard at school, and gained a lot of competency and confidence there. Which gave me a name on campus, a community, a skill set, a vision. I knew who I was and what I could do for people and where I was going in life. But out here, all that’s been stripped away from me. I can’t utilize my skill sets, I can’t collaborate with others, I can’t explore ideas out here. I don’t know who I am to these people. I can’t help them in the way I’ve been taught to help people (making films). Which I suppose is how a soldier feels when he’s reintroduced to civilian life.

Someone asked if I feel left out of what’s happening back on campus. And the answer is no. I don’t feel excluded – I’m glad to be done and out! (though I definitely miss it) But I do feel forgotten. Not by anyone in particular. But just in general. I feel like I’ve fallen off the truck and am now just wandering along the highway by my lonesome. I don’t even know what to do with myself or what my next moves should be. Except I know I need to get a car. But that’s a lame answer. Because a car is only a stepping stone. Once I get a car, where will I go with it? I should be looking further ahead. But I’m not. Not really.

Which is what scares me the most. I’m comfortable here. I like being home. I enjoy not having any pressing responsibilities or worries. And in all honesty, that’s probably a smart move because I probably couldn’t shoulder those responsibilities in a financially-safe manner yet. But I’m slipping into auto-pilot. I’m just comfortable enough that I’m not thinking ahead. I’m fading fast. And that majorly freaks me out.

Dreaming of Reality

The other night I dreamt about this tap-dancer guy who was exploring an abandoned studio. Suddenly – in the middle of his tap routine – the studio caught fire and burned to the ground.  Umm ... ok?

Then I woke up and realized how extremely warm I felt. Hence Mr. Tap Dancer’s fiery death. Sadness. So I kicked off the covers. Which is weird, because my house is a freezer, and it’s never warm enough to just lie there exposed to the open air. Then my mom came in and tried to have a conversation with me, but I was too busy enjoying the breeze. And then I realized there couldn’t be a breeze. Because I was encased in flannel pajamas and buried beneath three layers of blankets. Also, my mom was definitely not in the room. Ergo, I was still dreaming! And then I woke up for real this time.

So, basically, I had just had a dual layer dream. You know, like Inception.
BRAHMMMMMMMM

Anywho, I think it’s interesting that in Mr. Tap Dancer World, my mind expressed the heating issue as a fire. But I think it’s even more interesting that the first time I “woke up,” my mind realized what the real problem was, and recognized the fire in my “dream” as an expression of that deeper issue. And yet, despite this incredible amount of self-knowledge, I still had no clue what was actually going on. I didn’t know that I was four-layers deep in flannel and quilt. I just sort of sensed I felt warm and interpreted the fire accordingly.

I think we live 99% of our lives in a dream world. Or a dream within a dream world. It’s very difficult for people to read their own hearts and acquire self-knowledge of the primary reality. Human hearts are too convoluted, human wills too manipulative, and human minds too murky. Consequently, no one can fully identify or express the reality of their soul’s condition (motivations, feelings, thoughts, decisions, morality etc.) – because no one really knows what’s going on inside! At least, not in the moment (hindsight may/may not be another matter).

So for the most part, I think we live in a secondary reality, a dream world. A world informed by, but not necessarily aware of, the true issues at hand. In which we recognize the problem as a heating issue, but do not understand the cause of the problem, namely flannel pajamas. Actually, I think that’s giving us way too much credit. We’re way too distracted/ego-inflated to be that self-aware. Or, at least, I’m not that self-aware. Instead, I think we normally operate in a tertiary reality, the dream within a dream world. We live in a world constructed by our own perceptions (subjective interpretations of objective realities) of ourselves and others.

And when something goes down, and the dance studio randomly burns up, we struggle to understand it all. And then we wake up to the secondary reality, with a clearer sense of responsibility and self-awareness. And that’s when we realize there’s an internal issue, a personal character flaw, behind the meltdown drama. The wake-up call brings about a reexamination of our actions and assumptions. Which (hopefully) yields a clearer image of the real problem. But even an x-ray is only a 2D image. It’s not the full picture.

There’s still a deeper layer, a layer of myself that I don’t usually have access to, a layer dealing with decisions, fears, and motivations. Sure I realize that I'm cursing my friend's name because I haven't forgiven him. Sure I know it’s wrong and that I need to stop. But how do I get myself to stop? I can confess my sin others, I can pray for the grace to forgive, I can quote verses to myself about the need to forgive others. But it feels so empty and cliché sometimes. How is that possible if I’m speaking the truth of the situation and citing the Words of Life?

Here’s the thing: I’m not speaking from an authentic understanding of the situation on the ground level. Yes, I've figured out that I've got a forgiveness issue, based on the fact that I'm still cursing my friend, but I don't understand why.  I’m stuck in the dream world, only reading the symptoms (the 2nd world intuitions, 3rd world antics) and prescribing the textbook medication. Which means there’s a lot of room for misdiagnosis. Or at the very least, insincerity.

So while I may be speaking the truth of the situation (Hello, my name is Erin and I have a heating issue), I don’t really understand what the root of the issue is or what needs to happen to overcome it. I’m not aware that I’m covered in flannel. And while God’s Word is addressing the flannel issue, that doesn’t help me to feel the flannel. Not as long as I’m living in the dream world. Which melts all the arrows of cynicism I aim at people who spout clichés about deep soul issues. Because maybe those cartoonish cliches compose their best understanding of the situation. And maybe they are misinterpreting the carichature. But maybe they’re not – maybe it’s just too crude a drawing to feel genuine.

One last thought: we might be tempted to think that we just need to wake up – really wake up – to the prime reality. Be done with all this dreaming nonsense. The problem is I don’t think we can. I don’t think we were made to function on that level, at least not for very long. Maybe it’s a part of man’s curse, to be stuck in the dream world. Maybe that’s what redemption means, to finally wake up from this haze.

“… this is why it is said: ‘Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’” Ephesians 5:14

Cynicism vs. Skepticism

I think most of us have had negative experiences with certain groups of people (take the MECCA, for example).  Which naturally leads to disillusionment.  And criticism.  And sarcasm.  And ironic wit, if you're clever and/or snarky.  And thank goodness for that disillusionment!  Because it provokes honest conversation about what's really being said/done/expected.  Which is how you get bad situations to change. 

But sometimes (actually most of the time) disillusionment turns into cynicism.  And cynicism doesn't care about improving the situation.  It only cares about destroying the situation.  Cynicism is not healthy.  Nor God-honoring.  And I truly, truly mean that.  We cannot let disillusionment ferment and fester until it becomes cynicism.  Instead, we must boil it down to clear-headed skepticism. 

What makes skepticism better than cynicism?  Both understand that something is majorly off-key.  But the cynic walks away from the situation, essentially damning the community.  He assumes that nothing will ever change and therefore alienates himself from the group.  Meanwhile the skeptic throws himself back into the situation, desperately trying to alter its course.  He constantly hopes for redemption and therefore allies himself with the group.*

That's the difference:  Cynicism judges while Skepticism evaluates.  Cynicism gives up, Skepticism stays engaged.  Cynicism divorces, Skepticism attempts to reconcile. 

And that is why I need to admit that my last two posts weren't the most well-written; they had a lot of cynical leanings.  I wasn't being careful to posture my thoughts in a way that encouraged consideration and reconciliation.  I wrote rather aggressively and offensively.  Because honestly, that's how I've felt towards the MECCA for the past few years.  Very bitter.  Very nit-picky.  Very external.  I pulled out of the community, but continued to observe and critique it.  Which isn't right.  If I don't want to be a part of a group, I don't have the right to constantly critique it.  I should just move on.  And yet I can't help but continue to critique the MECCA, mostly because I feel so strongly about the issues. 

Which means that I had better get involved and put those critiques to positive use. 
Lord, have mercy.

*Not that the Skeptic is some enlightened guru, coming down to help the mortals see the error of their ways.  He is just another guy in the community.  With all the normal rights (to speak up and push for change) and responsibilities (commitment to the other members' well being) of a normal community member.  Community, man, it's all about community.

Most people are too chicken to witness, but the ones with a backbone will do it anyways.

Here’s another thing about MECCA-style evangelism:  there’s this really compulsory quality to it.

As in, if you’re afraid to witness to someone, by golly, you’d better buck up and do it or you’ll disown Jesus. And you know, if you are ashamed of Jesus on earth, He’ll be ashamed of you in Heaven. The same goes for when you’re debating whether or not you should do something crazy for Jesus (like jump up on a fire hydrant and start preaching to the people on the sidewalk). You don’t really want to ‘cause it’d be really awkward, but by golly, this must be the Holy Spirit talking to you, so hop on up there and just open your mouth, let the words flow.

It’s kind of like those ever-popular Facebook statuses which say something like “3 million kittens are murdered every 15 seconds by mousetraps. If you care about saving the rainforest, ending world hunger, or rescuing the polar bears trapped on floating blocks of ice, you’ll repost this status. 99% of people are too chicken to do it, but the 1% with backbones will do it anyways.”

Don’t worry, I exaggerate. MECCA thinking isn’t quite that bad. ‘Cause there’s grace with Jesus. Also, percentages are never listed in the Bible. Not technically speaking, anyways.  However, there is an eerie resemblence between those Facebook thingies and MECCAite attitudes on Holy Spirit promptings.

Honestly, though, telling Christians that ‘anytime they start feeling like they should do something crazy it must be the Holy Spirit’s prompting’ is a very bad idea. I don’t mean to say that the Holy Spirit never tells people to do crazy things. But I think very few people can tell the difference between God’s voice and their own voice in their heads. I think most of the time people’s idea of what they ought to be doing is informed by what they’ve been told they ought to be doing, rather than by the Holy Spirit’s prompting. I could give numerous embarrassing personal antecedents on this subject, but I’ll suffice with one slightly less-awkward one.

Once upon a family road trip, young thirteen-year-old-Erin got it stuck in her head that she needed to be witnessing at all times. Specifically, I remember sitting in the back of the family minivan, crying hard into a pillow which I’d stuffed to my face so my family wouldn’t hear me. I was crying because I knew that if I truly loved Jesus I would be screaming “God loves you!” out the window at people as we drove down the freeway. But I was also keenly aware that that would be more than a little bit weird – not only to the other drivers, but especially to my family! And I couldn’t bear that. So all I could manage were whispers of “God loves you,” barely squeaked out the back window of the van where the rushing wind covered it and perhaps carried it away.

What the heck? Was the Holy Spirit actually telling me to do that? I don’t think so; pretty sure that was a leftover concept from witnessing training in youth group. Unfortunately I have a worry-wart’s disposition, so I was constantly second-guessing every crazy idea that popped into my head. And because I was under the impression that the Holy Spirit frequently told kids to do crazy things for Jesus, my mind began to invent crazier and crazier things to do. It was kind of a destructive cycle.

Here's the thing: the idea that the Holy Spirit is probably telling them to do something strange is really just a filtered down and Christianized version of the rugged, answers-to-no-one-but-himself Lone Ranger concept.  In other words, this type of thinking emphasizes the individual over the community. It assumes that the Holy Spirit takes people out of the culture and places them above it. And I really don't think that's healthy or wise or God-honoring. God is all about community. The Trinity is the ultimate form of community.  (Btw, it's weird how we're forming a community around the idea of individualism - how does that even work?  Idk, but that's what America's been doing for years I guess)

This is what I fear MECCA ideology can lead to: dishonest/disconnected "communities" of miserable and lonely people, straining to achieve all their God-honoring duties.

Or at least, that’s how I ended up by age fifteen.

There’s definitely more I could talk about with the MECCA, but I think I'll stop for now. Stay tuned for more posts about the joys and sorrows of living within the MECCA.

The MECCA

If you've ever had a serious discussion about modern Christianity with me, you've probably already heard me refer to the “MECCA.” It’s an acronym I use to identify a large subculture that exists within our society, namely the Modern Evangelical Christian Culture of America.

You know what I'm talking about; a lifestyle which consists of listening to only Christian music (like Casting Crowns or Toby Mac), reading Christian books (like “Left Behind” or “Love’s Long Journey”), watching Christian movies (like Fireproof, McGee and Me), using Christian lingo (like “pray your precious blood over them” or “accept him into your heart”), wearing Christian t-shirts (the ones with verses on them, loud n’ proud), playing Christian video games, etc. It's all part of a lifestyle which many, many, many evangelical Christians swear allegiance to. Please note that the MECCA really is a culture in its own right and not simply good Christian living. That is, the MECCA is not just pure Bible-based Jesus-following, a way of life that transcends time and is applicable in any society. Instead, the MECCA is a special brand of Christianity, a fusion of American culture and Biblical Christianity.

Now don't freak out; fusion is not necessarily a bad thing. Christianity at the core is about the relationship between God and the Church. And that relationship does transcend time and society. Christianity is ultimately a community, not a culture. That said, community cannot be lived outside of culture, outside of an established methodology. Think about trying to have a good marriage without defining a budget. Not so functional.

Theology is unchanging, but methodology (aka culture) is constantly changing. Culture is simply a man-made modus operandi, a standardization of expectations and procedures (my definition, not Webster’s). And it is not a sinful, rebellious thing just because it’s man-made. I think culture-creation was part of the original mandate given by God to man in Genesis 1:28-30.

“God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground.’” Gen 1:28

So it is appropriate for Christians to be crafting a Biblically-informed way of life for themselves within the context of the larger American culture. That said, there's a lot about the MECCA that I find unappealing and off-kilter. And I’m not really talking about the consumerism of it all; I’m talking about the ideologies and assumptions within it.

Before I go any further, I should probably explain that I am a native MECCAite. It is my primary culture, the one I grew up in and the one I'm most closely connected to right now. Throughout the years, I've been both blessed and wounded by the MECCA, leaving me with a hopefully wiser perspective on MECCAite living. So please note the attitudes and behaviors I’m critiquing are ones I’ve seen in myself as much as (if not more than) in others. I really am the biggest MECCAite of them all.

That said, one of the biggest issues I see in the MECCA is the amount of dogmatism associated with it. Members tend to be very, very committed to the MECCAite culture. That goes for ideas, beliefs, and theology as well as for practices, boycotts, and clichés. There seems to be a very intense us-versus-them mentality. Not that there isn’t a clear line between believers and non-believers. But MECCAites tend to apply that distinction to their culture. It becomes very easy to define “us” as the good Christians who listen to Christian music and read Lord of the Rings and “them” as the apostates/unbelievers who listen to secular music and read Harry Potter. It’s a very pressure-filled situation; either you’re with us or you’re against us.

This carries over into MECCAite evangelism, an area which causes me especial discomfort. Here's a hyperbolic sketch of MECCA evangelism: the believer sneaks in as much spiritual content as possible into any and every conversation with unsuspecting non-believers, thereby subtly (or perhaps not-so-subtly) convicting said non-believer into repentance.

This strikes me as not being very respectful or relational.

Here's the thing:  spiritual choices cut to the core of a person’s identity and stability. Those kinds of choices are not to be made lightly, not by believers and not by non-believers. To expect a non-believer to just roll over and scream “I believe, I believe, I’ll empty my bank account today and move to India tomorrow” is not respecting the gravity of the situation. Think about what we're asking people to do. On a similar note, I really, really do not like alter-calls/recommit-your-life/pledge-to-read-your-Bible-for-30-days type situations – the situations that usually come at the end of a retreat or conference. In fact, I absolutely refuse to participate in these types of activities. I will not make any sort of public declaration or decision in a pressure-filled environment. Instead, I will wait until after the conference is over to make my decision – even if it means looking like a heathen because I’m the only one in my row not going up for rededication. It’s awkward, for sure, but it’s less awkward then trying to figure out in 30 seconds or less if I actually intend to follow through with the proposed commitment. Also, I’ve decided that 500+ other people do not need to know whether or not I will be reading Mark for the next 30 days. They don’t know me and they hold no position of influence in my life, so why should I share a personal decision with them?

Which brings me to my next point: there are boundaries in relationships. It’s just a fact of life, a social reality. Not just anybody has the right to speak to you in a personal way, to ask you to make choices, and to then expect you to listen to their advice. That’s an important principle of relationships – people do not (and should not) open up their hearts to just anyone.

Suppose the guy standing next to you on the elevator told you that you should never use Styrofoam cups because they take hundreds of years to decompose, and then stared pointedly at the coffee cup in your hand, thereby signaling his expectation for you to swear off Styrofoam forever. This scenario ends with you feeling angry at the man and contemplating throwing the coffee on his shirt. Not because you disagreed with what he was saying. But because he doesn’t have the right to advise you on your life and EXPECT your compliance. Doesn’t matter that he has a doctorate in Styrofoam. Again, it’s not because what he’s saying is wrong. It’s because he’s assuming a position of influence in your life that he hasn’t earned. And yet, that seems to be the attitude of the evangelizer towards the evangelized – that this stranger/acquaintance should allow you to have a say in their lives.

It really is the expectation that miffs me the most. It’s one thing to be honest about how you view the world or even how you view another person’s situation. It’s a totally different thing to draw a line in the sand and stake the relationship on it, as in “things are going to be awkward between you and me unless you agree with what I’m saying.” If Dr. Styrofoam had simply shared what he'd learned about Styrofoam without drawing conclusions about what you ought to be doing about it, you probably would have found the info very interesting and compelling. Perhaps you would have quietly tucked the coffee cup out of sight instead of dumping it on Dr. Styrofoam's tie.

Here’s the thing: your friendship isn’t hanging in the balance over their salvation – their soul is what’s hanging the balance. And the soul is not some target that you shoot at and try to decimate. People are complex and they are not to be conquered. They are to be redeemed. 

Wow, I can’t believe I’m saying all this. I sound like such a relativist. Let’s be clear: I am by no means a person who holds multiple, contradictory views of the world and is therefore content with everyone sticking to their own opinions about religion, life, and the flatness of the world. On the contrary, I am very much of the mind that there is one reality/truth, even if we don't all understand it properly. 

However, I am of German/Norwegian upbringing, which means that I have a very strong sense of the public versus the private life. And I get very defensive when someone from the public sector attempts to breach that line, because the person is trying to get inside my heart where I don't trust them yet. I'm sorry, but the relationship just doesn’t warrant it. And I want to respect that line, that dignity, in other people too.  I want to offer them an honest and accurate picture of stupid sin and glorious salvation, but I don't want to disrespect them by making assumptions about their personal motivations, options, or futures.  Not without being invited beyond the public boundary, at any rate.

Oofta.  That's enough about the MECCA for one post.  Stay tuned for more MECCA reflections.

Social Surfing

I think navigating social situations is a lot like surfing. You feel the rise and fall of social tensions, and sometimes you're able to get up on your board and glide around and have a bunch of well-timed (and properly-executed) fun.

Other times, you get caught in a wave of awkwardsauce and you can't get up, and you just end up with a bunch of saltwater in the mouth. Bleh.

But it's important to get up on the board and paddle out to sea again. You cannot just lie on the beach like a drowned sea gull. Try again! Try AGAIN! Keep trying, because that's what surfing is about; each wave is a new challenge/opportunity for joy. And even if you take a bad fall and a shark eats your arm, keep on surfing, because social waves are worth riding.

Or at least, they are when you're riding on top. And they definitely are once you get to know people well enough to skip the surfing formalities and just go about frolicking in the sea.

Laughing at the 90's

At some point or another, everyone is forced to look at old photos of themselves. Either your grandma pulls out an album at Christmas, or your mom prints one in the newspaper for graduation, or an old friend tags you in a photo on Facebook.

Ever laugh at how stupid you were for thinking that the "tucked-in shirt with high-waisted, straight-legged jeans" look was cool? I did. I had no problem condemning my youthful idiocy in light of my now mature sense of style.

But then the skinny jeans came in style. Then I was in a quandary about what to think of my quintessential straight-legged 90's jeans. And then I realized that fashion is fickle and I'm stupid for just accepting whatever I'm told is cool. Except the fact of the matter is that I can't help participating in my society, which requires keeping up with the fashions.

So don't judge my maxi dress and gladiator sandals; I KNOW they're not objectively cool. But they are objectively comfortable and on-sale.

Besides, I think they're cool ... I think?

the theology chronicles

The usual reasons for rejecting fatalism are because 1) it's impersonal and 2) it renders the human will useless and therefore functionally non-existant. calvinists argue that determinism is different from fatalism because it's not impersonal and the human will is real and important, even if it remains superfulous. I'm not convinced they're actually different. the fact that there is a person behind the machine doesn't make determinism any less impersonal. humans are still reduced to non-persons, so it remains impersonal. also, saying that (somehow) the human will is real and important, without giving explanation as to how or why it could be important while being superfulous, seems more like a hopeful fan-made tack-on then a legitimate distinction. anytime a will loses its ability to choose, direct, originate independently, it ceases to be a will ... it ceases to be a self. ultimately, i think determinism/fatalism/whatever results in an obliteration of self. The concept of self requires that there be a distinction in will, creative movement, and identity that is unique to a single entity. If we want to maintain that we are selves, that there's more than just one self who's impacting this world and all it's messes, we have to maintain the reality of our selves. Certainly, the concept of the Creator-creation distinction requires that there be limitations on the affective power of the created selves' wills. And certainly these wills are sometimes frustrated in their secondary ability to execute their designs, but they are never frustrated in their primary ability to design. Or at least, those are my thoughts right now.

a secret shout-out to a good friend

dawnette is awesome. also she is beautiful. :)

"Child-like Faith"

Have you ever had this experience? You're discussing a controversial issue with some Christians, and someone inevitably says, "Well, the Bible says it's true, so that's good enough for me."

Then you (you meaning me) say, "Yeah, but don't you want to understand it further, like how it works?" And then they say, "No; we're not supposed to know everything."

And then you raise your eyebrow and give them that skeptical/quizzical look that says, "Um ... are you sure about that?" [If you're not sure how to do this look, see the image below).

And then they look you square in the eyes and go, "Jesus calls us to have child-like faith. Booyah. Game Over." And then you shrink down to mini-Mario size. I've probably lost that game thirty times by now. Except I think I found the invicibility star today!!!

Ok, time to return to reality. These conversations are not a game or a competition by any means. If they are for you (you meaning me) there are other issues at hand. Which is why my next post will be about dealing with bitterness and cynicism, for all you people with issues.

Seriously though, this is a conversation I've had several times, and the conclusion has never sat well with me. Does having child-like faith mean we must be content with not understanding things? Is God truly shushing our questions? Is knowing that He is God the only thing we need to know?

[hyperbolic scene of God's reaction to being asked a question: "For crying out loud, kid! What do you need to know things for? I'm God, and that's all you need to know! Now go back to playing with your iPad and let me handle things. For Pete's sake!"]

Anyways, enough ranting about my feelings about the matter, let me tell you about a realization I had today. It occured to me that the phrase "child-like faith" comes from Matthew 18.

In this passage, the disciples are playing King of the Hill, trying to win the prize of being Jesus's Right-hand Man (I'm not sure why everything keeps turning into a competition in this post). They ask Jesus to pick his favorite. So Jesus does. He picks a little kid who wasn't even playing! (gotta love his sense of humor) Then he says,

"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." In other words, get some child-like faith, dudes! But wait - he goes on to say, "Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

In other words, this whole passage is about humility ... not inquiry. In other words, having child-like faith does not prohibit you from asking questions and seeking to understand how things work. In fact, several other passages in the Bible call us to have mature - not childish - faith.

If you don't believe me, just go to www.biblestudytools.com/search/ and type in the word "milk." Oh, and filter out all the Old Testament hits. Otherwise you'll be reading about curds and whey and honey.

Because this is not a competition, I refuse to end this post by saying "Booyah." Even though I really, really want to - come on, it'd be so ironic and clever and ... immature. Right.

But I shall end it by stating that I'm very glad that God doesn't shush our questions. 'Cause I ask a lot of them.

What are your questions?