gender contortions

My buddy Scott posted some thoughts in response to NPR's "The End of Gender?".  I was working on a response in the comment box, and realized it got waaaay to long, and decided to write a follow up post (hint: read Scott's post first, it's way better).

Great thoughts, Scott.

I also found NPR's implicit argument in this article to be quite interesting--why does Leonard Sax have an after-thought-sidebar rather than an actual place in the article itself?  Before I address some of the ideas Weeks brings up, I'd like to look at some other comments from the original article.

Dean Spade, the assistant professer at SU School of Law wants to do away with much if not most gender distinctions, yet insists that we hold on to gender distinction in cases of gender-based affirmative action programs. A great thought, but how does it play out practically?  Say Corporation X needs to make a female hire but the best woman for the job identifies as a male?  What if there's a man that identifies as a female in the running?  If gender is meaningless then the job should go to the man-who-identifies-as-a-woman, leaving any serious discussion of gender-based affirmative action left alone in a single-sex bathroom.

It seems that (Mr.? Mrs.? Ms.? Nr?) Spade is running around the kitchen smeared in frosting and cake crums wondering where the hell the cake ran off to.

Professor Eliot posits toward the end,

Also, if parents did not buy into the gender stereotyping of children's toys and clothes, kids would stay open-minded longer during childhood. The goal is to keep girls physically active, curious and assertive, and boys sensitive, verbal and studious.

To me, this sort of bare statement posing as fact brings a whole slew of questions (I'll try to limit them):

1. Is this the goal? The goal of which group, broader society, or the gender-neutral community?

2. If it is the goal, why must an attempt at achieving this outcome be expressed through gender-neutrality rather than say, practices of general human flourishing?

3. Given this statement, I'm left wondering, what sort of narrow ideas about gender does Eliot hold?  If girls are acting like girls they won't be physically active, curious, or assertive?  If boys are acting like boys they'll run around acting like neanderthal cavemen? 

Thank God that when it came to racial stereotypes President Obama had the foresight to ask us to do away with slander rather than race,

eradicate the slander that says a black youth with a book is acting white.

Ms. Eliot, it seems, would rather we embrace slander, and reject gender. 

Taken together, it seems as if the professor wants to paint a picture of those who hold to gender distinction as idiots who want their daughters to be lazy and boring and their sons to be brutish and stupid.  Either that, or Ms. Eliot is herself so narrowly confined within her own ideas about gender that the only solution in her mind is to get rid of gender altogether.

Dr. Sax asks us to consider that,

Ignoring gender won't make it go away. On the contrary: Ignoring gender has the ironic consequence of exacerbating gender stereotypes.

along with the idea that,

You will find that white, black, Spanish-speaking doesn't matter on this parameter; affluent or low-income doesn't matter; urban or rural doesn't matter. Gender is far more important, more fundamental, than any of those other parameters. On many parameters relevant to education, such as attention span, a white boy from an affluent home in Bethesda or McLean has more in common with an African-American male from a low-income home in Southeast D.C. than he has in common with his own sister, a white girl.  

I think the thing most troubling to me is that we seem to be once again shackling ourselves to a new fate in the name of freedom.  What exactly is freeing about having a core part of your identity ignored or kept secret by your parents? Why would a parent feel the need to make their child feel abnormal about being normal?  And what the hell does any of this have to do with progress?

storytelling

For the past few days I've continued doing morning readings in Galatians along with Luther's commentary, but have neglected to do evening readings from the daily office, until tonight.  The readings for this evening included:

• Psalm 105
• 1 Samuel 8
• Acts 6.15-7.16
• Luke 22.24-30

Psalm 105 is a psalm of praise that retells all the mighty acts of YHWH on behalf of his people.  At a certain level it could be seen as nationalistic writing meant to bolster the hopes of the Israelites--but there isn't even a hint that the ancestors were anything special other than they were chosen by YHWH.  He is always the one doing the action, always the hero.  Acts 6 is almost an echo of this kind of storytelling as Stephen (my namesake) is filled with the Holy Spirit and recounts for the Jewish leaders the history of YHWH's work in their midst.

Thankfully, in recent years much of the western Church has realized that 'telling the gospel story' doesn't mean saying, 'Jesus died for your sins so you can go to heaven'.  However, as I read these passages this evening I found myself wondering if we've really gone far enough in our understanding of the holistic gospel story (seen traditionally in the arc of Creation, Fall, Redemption, Restoration).  It feels like we're getting a grasp of the outline, but we've yet to really dive into the story with all of its earthiness and all of its ambiguity.  

I wonder, as we plunge deeper into the grease and grime and glory of the gospel story, will that compel us to get greasy and grimy ourselves in the retelling of it?  And how are we to form ourselves and our people (or, more appropriately, allow ourselves to be formed) in such a way that we understand that the retelling of this story isn't relegated to Sunday morning's like some children's circle at the local library?  How should our accountants and software technicians, doctors, lawyers, baristas, musicians, painters, and plumbers go about retelling the story in their work, families, drinking, and dancing?  

I, for one, don't think I allow myself enough storytelling, and I want to recapture that sense of wonder.

justification

Well, I've not done the daily office for a few evenings, but Lyndsey and I have continued our reading in Galatians and Luther.  Yesterday and today we looked at Galatians 3.9-13

So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith. For all who rely on works of the law are under a curse; for it is written, “Cursed be everyone who does not abide by all things written in the Book of the Law, and do them.” Now it is evident that no one is justified before God by the law, for “The righteous shall live by faith.” But the law is not of faith, rather “The one who does them shall live by them.” Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree”.

Luther's thoughts on this section have been great.  This morning he talked about the idea that our sins have been placed upon Christ, everything that we've done.  There was something in the way he described it that gave me pause.  As Lyndsey and I discussed it, we both realized that often we think of Jesus taking our punishment, but we rarely think about him taking our sin--like I actually walk up to him and hand him a bag of trash and feces.  I guess I'm just being struck with the sinfulness of my sin and the humility of my Savior.  My justification has been brought about because Jesus was willing to have my sins laid upon him.

I think above all, at least for now, I need to keep internalizing this, I need to keep reminding myself that the most beautiful, perfect being in the universe has taken on my sin and death.  But the next obvious question is, how should I interact with others because of this? 

feeble bind on strength

Ok, I screwed up the order of my readings the other day, so this morning I did the readings from two days ago...

• Psalm 78
• 1 Sam 1.21-2.11
• Acts 1.15-26
• Luke 20.19-26

Psalm 78 is just heart-wrenching.  Nearly every time I revisit the stories of early Israel I'm struck by how quickly they 'forget' the wonders of God.  As I considered Psalm 78 this morning, and as I survey my own life, I'm starting to leave behind language of forgetfulness, and think in terms of willful disobedience.  The bottom line is we usually want something more than we want God.  Despite the bleak outlook, I feel like these verses capture the core of the Psalmist's convictions:

Their heart was not steadfast toward him;

they were not faithful to his covenant.

Yet he, being compassionate,

atoned for their iniquity

and did not destroy them;

he restrained his anger often

and did not stir up all his wrath.

He remembered that they were but flesh,

a wind that passes and comes not again.

 

The 1 Samuel narrative ended with Hannah's song today.  The poetic description of how YHWH brings about the reversal of fortunes is incredible.  I realize this is a horrible interpretive practice, but as I consider my own life, and my pastoral calling, the line, 'the feeble bind on strength' is an encouraging and stunning reminder that my pastoral posture should always be one of humility, reliance.  My life should be an expression of feebleness binding on strength--the strength that comes from YHWH, given for the purpose of doing his will on earth as it is done in heaven, not to pursue my own agendas.

Finally, some interpretive questions:

1. Regarding Psalm 78 as well as the plethora of other descriptions of God's judgment against Israel for her unfaithfulness, how quickly should we move beyond the original context to understand how God relates to us today?  In other words, does God still judge 'nations' in the same sense/way?  What about the Church?  Obviously this is a bit of a loaded question (think Jerry Fallwell and Pat Robertson).  Should we simply allow these descriptions to fill out our picture of God's character?  Or are we to move beyond that and find modern day examples of the same sort of judgment and restoration (whether individual or corporate)?

2. This one is more just for fun: what do you think was going through Peter's mind in Acts 1.21-22, when he insisted that they must find a 12th apostle to replace Judas?  Was he actively thinking about the early church mirroring Israel?  Was 12 a cultural quorum?  I just found it interesting this morning as I read that passage, he just kind of assumes this was the next obvious step, and given all that they'd just experienced it seems a bit strange to me.

love and law

Last night's readings (note: I somehow screwed up my calendar, so I think these should really be this evening's readings.  whatever.):

• Psalm 119.97-120
• Psalm 81
• Psalm 82
• 1 Samuel 2.12-26
• Acts 2.1-21
• Luke 20.27-40

This morning, rather than continue with Luther, I opted to read all of Galatians to try to get a better bird's eye view of Paul's writing.  I keep coming back to the ideas of love and law, except this time, in Psalm 119, it is the law that is loved, the Word is hope and knowledge.  Honestly the Psalmist begins to sound like a bit of a 'biblicist', proclaiming that he has more understanding than his teachers and the older folks around him because he meditates on the law.  I think it's fairly obvious that the psalmist is simply using 'teachers' and 'elders' to compare the surpassing wisdom of God's Word--not his interpretation of it (an obsession of a later time, I imagine). In other words, this passage should not be used to defend brash youthfulness or individualistic 'biblicism' that generally amounts to nothing more than anachronistic readings of Scripture.

Galatians is Paul railing against circumcision and the Law with regard to salvation and justification.  I've yet to land anywhere in the justification debate (though as a general rule, I love me some Tom Wright), but reading through Paul's ideas here is helpful and confusing--we're getting ready to start a series on the Ten Commandments at Intown, so I'm trying to think through a couple of rather large themes:

1. How does the decalogue fit within the narrative of the Pentateuch?  Another way of asking that question is to ask, when Jesus and Paul and others read the Pentateuch, how did they understand it, and how did they understand the Ten Words within it?

2. How do ethical commands fit with the gospel of grace?  Running along with Luther or a guy like Robert Farrar Capon, I'd have to say that these are two different categories, categories that shouldn't mix: the gospel is grace through and through, and the law is to show you your need, and then much later, it can be used to help you understand what 'right living' is all about, but don't for a second think you actually need to do any of it (slight caricature? :) ).  I'm more inclined to take the view that both Law and Gospel include law and gospel (ie, the gospel includes the command to 'repent and believe' and the law includes the gospel that YHWH brought his people out of Egypt).  We'll see how my thinking straightens out as I dig into studying for this series.  

Josh, you tend to have a great ability to synthesize large categories, so if you could help me out here that would be awesome!

Prayer, and the Power of YHWH | Abraham's Faith, and the Busy Sloth

The evening reading yesterday was:

• Psalm 80
• Psalm 77
• Psalm 79
• 1 Samuel 1.1-20
• Acts 1.1-14
• Luke 20.9-19

This morning we continued in Galatians, 3.7-10. 

Last night's Psalms combined with the introduction of Hannah in the book of Samuel made for a powerful reminder that YHWH hears the prayers of his people, and he is powerful enough to answer.  The theme of Psalm 80 was a cry for restoration to YHWH, Psalm 79 was similar.  My own life is strikingly apathetic when compared with this sort of spiritual groaning.  With regard to the Hannah story, I don't have kids yet, but I imagine my desire for children will keep getting strong.  However, I can easily see myself, should some childlessness take root in our lives, just immersing myself in something else, turning to something other than YHWH for fulfillment.  I don't know that I intentionally distract myself, but I find myself praying for things, and many times my prayers are answered(!), but when they're not, I just kind of...quit.  It's quite obvious that I generally pray when I a) feel guilty, or b) want something.  I've yet to develop a conversational voice with Jesus.  I hope that as the daily reading of Psalms (and other Scriptures) continues, that I will begin to find that voice.

This morning I read this article, and once again, Eugene Peterson just punches me in the throat.  I tend to keep pretty busy doing church ministry, meeting with people, etc. I'm glad to be doing this daily experiment, and convicted that study, prayer, and stillness are not more regular parts of my life.  I'm pretty much a hardworking sloth.

But the final piece for today is this: Luther had some great things to say about Abraham's faith in connection with Galatians 3.  He refused to let us think about Abraham's 'work' with regard to his salvation.  Jesus has done everything for me and counts me as his child.  I have to imagine the daily experiment makes him glad for the most part, but I can't imagine that me beating myself up (too much) for missing a day, or not having a more emotive response to the Word or something makes him happy as well.  A good reminder to not let the daily become about religion, but to let it be a ritual that leaves the door propped open allowing me to catch glimpses of my Savior more and more.

Galatians 3, belief, and habits

I usually write pretty stream of consciousness, and yes, that's code for incoherent.  the daily is meant to be quasi that, but I fear today will be even more so as I have a few things rattling around in my brain.

First, this morning we continued in Galatians, reading 3.3-6 along with Luther's comments.  This study has been quite helpful in thinking through gospel/law distinctions.  This morning Lyndsey had some great questions surrounding the strangeness of faith.  As I continue to reflect on those questions, and my own preaching, it does seem quite odd to issue an imperative to people: have faith!  I'm still not quite clear in my own mind exactly what I expect to happen.  Am I asking people to passively accept the work of the Spirit?  Am I asking them to foment faith?  

I'm quite sure I contradict myself, sometimes asking people to let go of reason or doubt or whatever, and other times I'm asking people to hang on to faith (for a whole list of reasonable reasons).  Are we holding on, or being held onto?  Or is it both?  I'm sure there's some trite analogy out there somewhere (probably involving skydiving), and odds are some model will prove helpful to me in understanding this, but I think my questions are based more out of daily existence.  Does the expectation to 'have faith' mean something different day to day, or even hour to hour?  Is it sometimes active, sometimes passive?  Sometimes holding, sometimes being held?  Or is it just always both?

Segway.

So I didn't do the Daily Office over the weekend, which is causing me to think about habits and how I view the good life.  Obviously on Sunday I read portions of the Word, engaged in prayers, sang praises, etc. corporately, along with the body at Intown.  I spent a good deal of time prior to worship in prayer for my sermon delivery and our entire worship service.  But Saturday, I didn't do much of anything.  Is there such a thing as a sabbath from Bible reading and prayer?  I'm not trying to be flippant, and I really do want to understand how to form habits well.  On the other hand though, I do think that there are 'spiritual disciplines' other than scripture reading and prayer that need to be engaged.  I think the crux of what I'm trying to process is this: I spent the whole day on Saturday having a great time with my wife, and none of it was spent in study and prayer.  Is this legitimate?*  Is it legitimate to happen weekly?  Josh, these are not rhetorical questions :).

*For any who may have stumbled across this blog, please understand I do not mean at all to suggest that if I don't have some form of devotional reading and prayer 7 days a week that I'm somehow less of a Christian.  the daily is an experiment of sorts meant to help me understand how daily liturgical practices help shape my life.  My concern is more, 'what represents a vibrant liturgical rhythm?' rather than, 'what represents a mature Christian life?'.

hesed and the mission of God

Yesterday evening's Daily Office included:

• Psalm 105.
• Ezekiel 18.1-4, 19-32
• Hebrews 7.18-28
• Luke 10.25-37

This morning, rather than read Luther and Galatians, I re-read Ruth (I'll be preaching the final installment of our Ruth series at Intown).  The layers and craftsmanship in this little book continue to amaze me.  I've been continuing to ponder the characters of Boaz and Mr. So-and-So, continuing to ponder bare duty vs. hesed.  In the midst of this, the last few verses of Ezekiel 18 reached out to me as a particularly powerful expression of YHWH's hesed:

Therefore I will judge you, O house of Israel, every one according to his ways, declares the Lord GOD. Repent and turn from all your transgressions, lest iniquity be your ruin. Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed, and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord GOD; so turn, and live.

Make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit? This statement practically begs the question, how is that possible? and/or, are you serious?  As Paul points out, though, the glory of the new covenant is that this new heart and new spirit are given to us,

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.

What an incredible thing that YHWH has been on mission, tearing after his creation with a fierce, loyal love since the beginning.  And entrusting his message of reconciliation to these new creatures in Christ?  Speechless. 

Back to Virtue

First of all, I'd like to thank both of you for continuing to check this blog every few months when your cubicle is completely void of other distractions, including the cheezit crumbs in your pen tray that have been there for a year.  So, that said... 

I'm working my way through Peter Kreeft's Back to Virtue and have been quite enjoying it so far.  It starts a bit dated and rough (going on and on about something called the 'Cold War'? and some nonsense about nuclear armaments and human stupidity) at the beginning, but smoothes out nicely.  Kreeft builds on C.S. Lewis's analogy of sailing ships for the three great ethical questions: how to avoid collisions (social ethics), how to stay afloat (virtues and vices), and what the hell are we doing out here anyway (ultimate purpose of human life)?

The problem with the Western world at the moment, in Kreeft's mind, really the 'crisis' as he calls it, is that,

[W]e have reduced all the virtues to one, being kind; and we measure Jesus by our standards instead of measuring our standards by him.

But why have we reduced all the virtues to being kind?  Because we have reduced all the goods to one, the one that kindness ministers to: pleasure, comfort, contentment.  We have reduced ourselves to pleasure-seeking animals.

This thought has stuck with me, not least as I've been perusing the sexuality and gender debates raging throughout mainline denominations. Within the context of Kreeft's thought, I think I agree with him, and I think I see his point: society and the individuals that comprise society are having a hard time staying 'shipshape', staying afloat. 

While I think I agree with Kreeft's assessment, I have a hard time articulating it in a similar fashion, largely because I know too many people who are stuck in the parking lot of fundamentalism.  Sure the parking lot looks different, the cars of fundamentalism are a bit newer.  Electric guitars are no longer the direct tool of the Devil, long hair and soul-patches are no longer necessarily signs of rebellion.  But fundamentalism is the fat lady.  It doesn't matter what dress you put her in, she is what she is.  Far too many 'contenders for the faith' see kindness as neither a virtue nor a rhetorical posture to be employed, much less an attitude with which to season conversations.

Meekness, it seems, is weakness. If cleanliness is next to godliness, then testosterone is apparently sitting on godliness's lap (if testosterone was lame enough to do such a thing).  I don't want comfort to lead me around by the nose as I try to navigate the rushing waters of life, trying to stay shipshape, but I equally don't want to devolve into ignorant fighting about who knows what.  On the surface, ignorant fighting seems a bit more animalistic to me, but then I figure that animals usually fight to survive, not to gain some weird pleasure.  I'd posit, that were we to think about things a bit more intentionally, we'd realize that kindness, true kindness, should actually drive us to build a deeper ethical conversation, not a more shallow one.