Earlier this year I finally saw the 1999 film Trekkies for the first time. Despite being a lifelong Star Trek fan I'd never made an effort to see this documentary, in part because I was already familiar with the lengths that some diehard fans go to, and the laughter (not always kind) that accompanies their displays of devotion to all things Trek.
And Trekkies does introduce viewers to a number of fans whose lives revolve around Star Trek to an extreme. Despite a handful of cringeworthy moments, however, the documentary also reminded me why Star Trek has such a devoted fan base (myself included, even if I've never worn a Starfleet uniform in my everyday life or learned to speak Klingon) in the first place. Its positive vision of a future in which mankind has overcome the problems that threaten our present existence - racism, poverty, war, pollution, etc. - and joined with alien races to form a federation based on our highest ideals, has inspired hope in many who saw little reason for hope in the present-day world around them.
In addition to that reminder, the subjects of Trekkies point us toward an aspect of our humanity that sometimes gets forgotten in our age of science and rationalism: the power of myth. For too long our modern world has conflated myth with fiction and thereby reduced it to mere entertainment. Myth may not be intended to live up to the factual standards of literal history, but "real" or not it connects us with the deeper truths of human existence that aren't so easily quantified in textbooks and instruction manuals.
For some, Star Trek really is nothing more than entertainment. But for others, it's the mythology that informs their lives and shapes the lens through which they interpret the world around them. Religious or not, we humans long to be part of a greater story. On an intuitive level the modern church has never completely forgotten that; even the most ardent literalists still teach their children the stories of Moses, David, Joseph, Esther and the other great heroes of the Bible.
Where we get tripped up is in the dichotomy that modern society has created between fact and fiction. It's a necessary distinction when one is dealing with matters of science, but when we apply it to all realms of life we lose something vital. A friend of mine who attended an evangelical seminary once took a class on the writings of CS Lewis that was taught by a theology professor who had never read the Chronicles of Narnia because he adamantly refused to read fiction. Not coincidentally, this professor wasn't known for being a very interesting person when he wasn't standing behind a podium. And no doubt he finds it exasperating that so many children love Aslan more than they love the God they hear about in church on Sundays.
Christian apologetics is still a highly popular pursuit in evangelical circles. If we can just prove the Bible is literally true, the world will have no choice but to fall in line behind us - or so advocates of apologetics seem to believe. All we have to do is win the argument once and for all, and anyone who still dissents will be exposed as a fraud. Unfortunately, the stories and poems that encounter us through so much of the Bible don't readily lend themselves to this approach.
That's not to say that logic and reason have no place in theological discussions, simply that their use has been misdirected. At the end of the day, which has the greater influence on our spiritual lives - debates over the age and authorship of the book of Daniel, or the stories of courage and wisdom that become part of our own stories as we read it?
Perhaps the church would be a more Christ-like place if we worried less about being right about everything. As Rob Bell puts it, "a good story has a powerful way of rescuing us from abstract theological discussions that can tie us up in knots for years." Rediscovering the Bible as Divine myth rather than as a book of facts and rules may seem an invitation to anarchy, given how a story can mean something different to every person who hears it.
Some may even think it reduces the Christian faith to the level of a fairy tale if we cannot state with certainty that every story in the Bible is historically accurate. But perhaps the open-endedness of myth is the only way mankind can connect with the Infinite. And perhaps that same open-endedness will serve to weed out those whose quest for certainty and rules is less about that connection than it is about attempting to control God.
And maybe the Bible would once again inspire Christians as powerfully as Star Trek inspires Trekkies.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Monday, December 17, 2012
Christmas Lights
It's been a while since I posted one of these. I hate to think how much it cost to put this thing together and run it, but it sure does look impressive...
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Courage
For sheer bravery, look no further than this coming out post. If you've never had a huge, earth-shaking secret that you've needed to share for the sake of your own mental health at the risk of losing everybody you love, be grateful - and try not to discount what it's like to be in that position.
There are still people in my life that I'm not out to - some intentionally, some because we're not that close and the topic has never come up. Minus a few relatives, the important people in my life know, and I've been content to leave it at that. Truth be told, I've always assumed I'd finish coming out to everyone else once I was in a relationship. Wedding pictures on Facebook, or something along those lines.
Of course, if there is no Mr. Right out there, that kind of dashes that plan. The question then becomes, am I content to remain in my comfortable little rut, or will I finally find the courage to say "to hell with other people's convenience" and make them deal with the full weight of me. It's not as simple a question as it may seem from the outside...
There are still people in my life that I'm not out to - some intentionally, some because we're not that close and the topic has never come up. Minus a few relatives, the important people in my life know, and I've been content to leave it at that. Truth be told, I've always assumed I'd finish coming out to everyone else once I was in a relationship. Wedding pictures on Facebook, or something along those lines.
Of course, if there is no Mr. Right out there, that kind of dashes that plan. The question then becomes, am I content to remain in my comfortable little rut, or will I finally find the courage to say "to hell with other people's convenience" and make them deal with the full weight of me. It's not as simple a question as it may seem from the outside...
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Hope
We pray that peoples of all faiths, all races, all nations, may have their great human needs satisfied; that those now denied opportunity shall come to enjoy it to the full; that all who yearn for freedom may experience its spiritual blessings; that those who have freedom will understand, also, its heavy responsibilities; that all who are insensitive to the needs of others will learn charity; that the scourges of poverty, disease and ignorance will be made to disappear from the earth, and that, in the goodness of time, all peoples will come to live together in a peace guaranteed by the binding force of mutual respect and love.-President Dwight Eisenhower, in his farewell address
Sadly, we don't seem to be any closer to realizing that vision than we were fifty years ago. But it still remains an ideal worth striving for...
Monday, November 19, 2012
Miscommunication, Part 2
One of the biggest problems currently facing the United States is that we can no longer communicate with each other. People on each side of any given issue are coming from such a different worldview that they literally cannot understand what their opponents are saying. At the same time, however, they act as though their opponents understand them perfectly and are willfully disregarding and disrespecting that knowledge.
One of the things I love about Jon Stewart is that he makes a serious effort to dialogue with those he disagrees with (i.e. most Republicans) - something that rarely happens these days, even on "serious" news programs. But even he doesn't always succeed, as the above clip demonstrates.
Granted, Stewart has a perfectly valid point when he notes that many (if not most) viewers would interpret Mike Huckabee's commercial as saying that anyone who fails to vote in line with the religious right's agenda is going to hell. Even some evangelicals haven't studied the Bible well enough to recognize the allusion to the testing of believers' works by fire mentioned in 1 Corinthians. And the fact that Huckabee would give the go-ahead to such an easily misinterpreted message exposes his own blindness to the fact that not everyone understands his perspective.
Unfortunately, Stewart gets so caught up on that point that he leaves himself with inadequate time to point out that the commercial's intended message is just as manipulative, and only slightly less threatening. Huckabee may not be threatening people who vote the "wrong" way with a one-way trip to damnation, but he is still telling them that to disobey the religious right on the issues in question is to go directly against the will of God.
It's a message that gives Huckabee's allies a reinforced sense of their own rightness, and leaves them feeling as though they have done their duty to try to correct those who disagree with them. It's also a message that fails completely to communicate to anyone who doesn't already agree with them, while widening the rift. And Stewart, though I commend him for trying, failed to bridge any of that distance. I often wonder whether such a bridge is even possible in our current political climate.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Post-Election
It's been quite a week. Whether this proves to be *the* turning point in the battle for LGBT equal rights or merely a bright spot in a protracted conflict, a clean sweep of victories in Maine, Maryland, Minnesota and Washington is worth celebrating. Across the country there are dozens of reasons for supporters of equality to be optimistic.
Even so, it would be premature to declare that it's all smooth sailing from here. And while I obviously don't buy the religious right's line that the results of this election are going to trigger God's wrath, I also don't think it would be appropriate to invoke God's favor in the other direction. What's wrong for one side is wrong for all sides, and my greatest hope is that more Christians will wake up, like this evangelical leader has, to how thoroughly (and inevitably) the quest for political power corrupts the Gospel. As individual Americans it's entirely appropriate for all of us to be involved in the political process. As a church, that's not how we're called to be defined.
That awakening appears to be gradually happening, but only time will tell if enough people wake up before the church's moral authority has been completely depleted by its current lust for power.
Even so, it would be premature to declare that it's all smooth sailing from here. And while I obviously don't buy the religious right's line that the results of this election are going to trigger God's wrath, I also don't think it would be appropriate to invoke God's favor in the other direction. What's wrong for one side is wrong for all sides, and my greatest hope is that more Christians will wake up, like this evangelical leader has, to how thoroughly (and inevitably) the quest for political power corrupts the Gospel. As individual Americans it's entirely appropriate for all of us to be involved in the political process. As a church, that's not how we're called to be defined.
That awakening appears to be gradually happening, but only time will tell if enough people wake up before the church's moral authority has been completely depleted by its current lust for power.
Monday, October 29, 2012
What Would It Take?
Disagreement is uncomfortable. I suspect many people feel as I do that it would be far more pleasant to live in a world where everyone agreed on everything (or at least everything of importance). In reality, though, we sometimes place too much importance on agreement. A neighbor who thoughtfully disagrees often makes a better friend than an ally who tolerates no dissent.
For that reason (among others) I've made a conscious effort to maintain contact with friends who fall on the opposite side of the fence when it comes to the issue of homosexuality. That's not always possible, given that far too many conservative Christians remain completely closed to any genuine dialogue, but when it is possible I've found it to be worth doing.
Craig Adams, who I first met through the now-defunct Bridges Across, is one such individual. Although he still holds to a Side B position, he remains open to listening to what those on Side A have to say. On his blog he recently explored the question of what it would take to convince him that he was wrong. Among other things, he points out the differences in worldview and approach to Scripture that separate the two sides and hinder meaningful dialogue. Merely arguing over the clobber passages is never going to bridge that divide, even if one side were to somehow manage to "win" the debate.
In the end he doesn't reach a conclusive answer as to what would change his mind, but I don't find that surprising. Having originally come from a Side B perspective, if anything it's even more difficult for me to envision returning to my former beliefs. Even so, it would be hypocritical of me to insist that I couldn't be wrong on this issue, however firmly I now hold to my hard-won convictions.
(For those unfamiliar with the terms Side A and Side B, link here or here.)
So what would it take to sway me? After pondering the question, here is what come to mind:
First and foremost, I would have to sense God's leading. My journey to Side A began with a deep and profound encounter with God that triggered a flood of questions that, in turn, made it impossible for me to remain where I was. Every step of the way I dragged my feet, desperately afraid of being led astray by my feelings; I resolved early on that I would not abandon Side B for the sake of indulging in what feels good, or out of anger toward the false promises I'd been fed by the ex-gay movement. And every step of the way God continued to encourage both my questions and the conclusions I was reaching.
As a fallible human being I must acknowledge that, despite the caution with which I undertook this journey, it is still possible that I have been misled by my own feelings. It's a purely academic possibility in my mind, given everything I've seen and heard over the course of the last eight years, but I still accept the importance of remaining open to new information.
I wouldn't expect God to work in my life in exactly the same way twice, but I would still expect to see evidence of a broader movement of the Holy Spirit. If Side B is correct, then adhering to a traditional sexual ethic should be good news, something positive that gay Christians can embrace rather than merely resign themselves to, and something that advances the Kingdom of God (which, as Jesus repeatedly told us, is in the here and now) by helping to make the world a better place.
By "better place" I mean better for everyone, not just for the many heterosexual Christians who have used their Side B beliefs as an excuse to make themselves more comfortable by shaming, ostracizing and casting out those who are different from them. If Side B represents the heart of God, then upholding that standard should make members of Christ's body more compassionate - not merely in the abstract "I don't want you to go to Hell" sense that too often embodies the evangelical (mis-)definition of compassion, but in the sense of moving them to want to get to know their LGBT neighbors better so that they can understand what life is really like for those they're asking to make such large sacrifices. I wouldn't expect everyone to go to the lengths that Timothy Kurek did, but that is the sort of empathy that is integral to my definition of compassion.
I don't expect the entire church to suddenly become perfect, but at the present time there still seems to be very little middle ground between those who believe God is fine with same-sex relationships and those who want all gay people to go away entirely. The majority of those who do try to bridge that gap typically end up, like me, moving over to Side A.
And for those gay Christians who do faithfully live by Side B standards, there is still far too little acceptance among those who should be their strongest champions. If God is truly the inspiration behind Side B, then a gay Christian who lives a celibate life and who feels called to ministry should be openly embraced by his or her church and viewed as eligible for any position of spiritual leadership, without being tainted by the deep suspicion that most conservatives still seem to hold for them.
Having said all of that, I do have the luxury of still being single as I ponder the above possibilities. Were I in a committed relationship, I might not be open to entertaining the idea that God could want me to abandon someone I so deeply love.
And having said all of that, even if I were somehow persuaded to return to a Side B worldview, that would not include a return to fighting against legal equality for LGBT individuals. The use of political power to impose "God's standards" on others is antithetical to the invitational message of the Gospel and, in the long run, a thoroughly self-destructive crusade. On that point I cannot, in good conscience, compromise.
I also could not return to the ex-gay doublespeak that I once twisted myself in knots trying to conform to. Whatever God's will may be for how I live my life, the fact remains that I am not heterosexual and, barring supernatural intervention, I never will be. I cannot simultaneously live a life of integrity and lie about myself just to make the heterosexual majority more comfortable.
If I really am wrong, I trust God to eventually bring me around, even if that journey doesn't end up looking the way I imagine it now. But for now, at least, I know that I'm right where I need to be, and that God is present and active there. And why would I want to be anywhere else?
For that reason (among others) I've made a conscious effort to maintain contact with friends who fall on the opposite side of the fence when it comes to the issue of homosexuality. That's not always possible, given that far too many conservative Christians remain completely closed to any genuine dialogue, but when it is possible I've found it to be worth doing.
Craig Adams, who I first met through the now-defunct Bridges Across, is one such individual. Although he still holds to a Side B position, he remains open to listening to what those on Side A have to say. On his blog he recently explored the question of what it would take to convince him that he was wrong. Among other things, he points out the differences in worldview and approach to Scripture that separate the two sides and hinder meaningful dialogue. Merely arguing over the clobber passages is never going to bridge that divide, even if one side were to somehow manage to "win" the debate.
In the end he doesn't reach a conclusive answer as to what would change his mind, but I don't find that surprising. Having originally come from a Side B perspective, if anything it's even more difficult for me to envision returning to my former beliefs. Even so, it would be hypocritical of me to insist that I couldn't be wrong on this issue, however firmly I now hold to my hard-won convictions.
(For those unfamiliar with the terms Side A and Side B, link here or here.)
So what would it take to sway me? After pondering the question, here is what come to mind:
First and foremost, I would have to sense God's leading. My journey to Side A began with a deep and profound encounter with God that triggered a flood of questions that, in turn, made it impossible for me to remain where I was. Every step of the way I dragged my feet, desperately afraid of being led astray by my feelings; I resolved early on that I would not abandon Side B for the sake of indulging in what feels good, or out of anger toward the false promises I'd been fed by the ex-gay movement. And every step of the way God continued to encourage both my questions and the conclusions I was reaching.
As a fallible human being I must acknowledge that, despite the caution with which I undertook this journey, it is still possible that I have been misled by my own feelings. It's a purely academic possibility in my mind, given everything I've seen and heard over the course of the last eight years, but I still accept the importance of remaining open to new information.
I wouldn't expect God to work in my life in exactly the same way twice, but I would still expect to see evidence of a broader movement of the Holy Spirit. If Side B is correct, then adhering to a traditional sexual ethic should be good news, something positive that gay Christians can embrace rather than merely resign themselves to, and something that advances the Kingdom of God (which, as Jesus repeatedly told us, is in the here and now) by helping to make the world a better place.
By "better place" I mean better for everyone, not just for the many heterosexual Christians who have used their Side B beliefs as an excuse to make themselves more comfortable by shaming, ostracizing and casting out those who are different from them. If Side B represents the heart of God, then upholding that standard should make members of Christ's body more compassionate - not merely in the abstract "I don't want you to go to Hell" sense that too often embodies the evangelical (mis-)definition of compassion, but in the sense of moving them to want to get to know their LGBT neighbors better so that they can understand what life is really like for those they're asking to make such large sacrifices. I wouldn't expect everyone to go to the lengths that Timothy Kurek did, but that is the sort of empathy that is integral to my definition of compassion.
I don't expect the entire church to suddenly become perfect, but at the present time there still seems to be very little middle ground between those who believe God is fine with same-sex relationships and those who want all gay people to go away entirely. The majority of those who do try to bridge that gap typically end up, like me, moving over to Side A.
And for those gay Christians who do faithfully live by Side B standards, there is still far too little acceptance among those who should be their strongest champions. If God is truly the inspiration behind Side B, then a gay Christian who lives a celibate life and who feels called to ministry should be openly embraced by his or her church and viewed as eligible for any position of spiritual leadership, without being tainted by the deep suspicion that most conservatives still seem to hold for them.
Having said all of that, I do have the luxury of still being single as I ponder the above possibilities. Were I in a committed relationship, I might not be open to entertaining the idea that God could want me to abandon someone I so deeply love.
And having said all of that, even if I were somehow persuaded to return to a Side B worldview, that would not include a return to fighting against legal equality for LGBT individuals. The use of political power to impose "God's standards" on others is antithetical to the invitational message of the Gospel and, in the long run, a thoroughly self-destructive crusade. On that point I cannot, in good conscience, compromise.
I also could not return to the ex-gay doublespeak that I once twisted myself in knots trying to conform to. Whatever God's will may be for how I live my life, the fact remains that I am not heterosexual and, barring supernatural intervention, I never will be. I cannot simultaneously live a life of integrity and lie about myself just to make the heterosexual majority more comfortable.
If I really am wrong, I trust God to eventually bring me around, even if that journey doesn't end up looking the way I imagine it now. But for now, at least, I know that I'm right where I need to be, and that God is present and active there. And why would I want to be anywhere else?
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