“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott
“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott
Pohl challenged my notions about hospitality and I thought these excerpts worthy of a re-post as we approach Thanksgiving.
A shared meal is the activity most closely tied to the reality of God’s Kingdom, just as it is the most basic expression of hospitality.
Seeing Jesus in every guest … reduces the inclination to try to calculate the importance of one guest over another.
“The tasks aren’t what hospitality is about, hospitality is giving of yourself.” If hospitality involves sharing your life and sharing the life of others, guests/strangers are not first defined by their need.
(Meal time) is the time when hospitality looks least like social services.
Simple acts of respect and appreciation, presence and friendship are indispensable parts of the affirmation of human personhood.
“… the pinnacle of lovelessness is not our unwillingness to be a neighbor to someone, but our unwillingness to allow them to be a neighbor to us.”
In the midst of deep division, political, religious and cultural chaos, is it possible that we are experiencing a dearth of dissent? On its face, such a suggestion seems absurd. Dissent dominates. Success is presumed to be achieved by the loudest voice.
Recently reading , “Sway: The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior “ by Ori & Rom Brahman , Chapter 8 “Dissenting Justice” , I was provoked to conclude the following:
A disturbing reality in our divisive, contentiousness culture is the paradox of a dearth of dissent in an ocean of dissension.
In our current culture, dissent, is largely defined protest or rebellion, characterized by inflammatory language and with a bent to violence. In an ironic twist, reasoned voices of dissent are met with dissent to their dissent as they are shouted down and driven from podiums. No matter which ideology is represented, groups resist and drive out opposition. Group conformity is incredibly strong, and it depends on unanimity for its power. Inherently, dissent is a threat to unanimity. My “free speech” is protected while the voice of a dissenter is fair game for censure-ship. What results is a self-destructive maelstrom.
“…homogeneous communities march toward the extremes…Like-minded groups create a kind of self-propelled, self-reinforcing loop.
Dissent is persona non grata.
I am hard pressed to identify any segment of our society which has not made dissent, to some extent, unwelcome. Politics, religion, science, technology, the 4th estate, social media, even academia, supposedly the bastion of free thinking, are not exempt.
Reading, “The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior” , Chapter 8 “Dissenting Justice”, there appears to be, at least, one notable exception to the dearth of dissent, the Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS). Although, I had a vague idea of dissent as it relates to SCOTUS, I did not realize the how essential it is to the process of justice at SCOTUS.
Breyer explained how the role of the blocker [dissenter] serves a necessary function in the Supreme Court: “If somebody is going to write a dissent… they have a point, they have some kind of point they’re trying to make. Quite often the opinion [of the majority] is changed somewhat in response to comments and opinions [of the dissenters]. Occasionally—maybe once or twice a year—the whole Court shifts.” Even when dissenters don’t have enough votes to change the Court’s opinion, they still affect the process. “It makes the other person take account of the point. They have to answer it or they have to take it into account,” Breyer said.
It’s easy to understand the desire to present a unified front. But as Breyer pointed out, the end result—in this case, the Supreme Court’s majority opinion—is actually improved by dissent. “The thing about writing a dissent,” Breyer reflected, “is it’s actually a pain in the neck for the person who is writing the [majority] opinion… and suddenly [has] to deal with this dissent.” The majority has to revise its opinion in response to points raised by the dissenters, then the dissenters rebut, and on and on it goes.Sway: The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior
Even if the [dissenter’s] opinion is wrong, at least it adds a perspective to the debate—giving others an opportunity to look at things in a different light.
As I come to better understanding of the role of dissent in the judicial process of SCOTUS, the prospect of SCOTUS being “stacked” by either party is a fearful prospect. Eliminating minority opinion opens the door to disastrous consequences.
Once the process of group polarization begins gaining momentum within a community the minority group begins to withdraw from public life and discourse. As the voices around the minority group grow more extreme, shrill and radicalized they opt for silence over getting into fights. And this withdrawal fuels more sorting migration. The minority leaves and the majority group, with nary a dissenting voice to be heard, radicalizes ever further.
Could it be possible that a passage to a more well-reasoned and sensible society can be found through embracing dissent.?
“Mixed company moderates; like-minded company polarizes. Heterogeneous communities restrain group excesses; homogeneous communities march toward the extremes…Like-minded groups create a kind of self-propelled, self-reinforcing loop.”
…it’s important to note that the presence of a dissenter—any dissenter, no matter how incompetent—still made it possible for a large segment of participants to deviate from the majority and give the right answer.
…blockers [dissenters] question the merit or wisdom of new decisions. Instead of merrily going along for the ride, they raise points about the potential harmful consequences that might follow.
The example of SCOTUS, initially stimulated a formulation of another of my simplistic and naive “we just need to” solutions. In this case, embrace dissent. After a bit of pondering, the folly of “let’s all get along and embrace dissent” became increasingly apparent. Not withstanding the idea that dissent is an essential ingredient in healthy communities, dissent can be and is is often a negative. Paradoxically, the benefits of negative dissent outweigh the risk of its absence. Therefore, my concern about the SCOTUS and other federal courts becoming devoid of dissent. MY concern is not limited to SCOTUS but extends to all segments of our society, particularly political parties.
Who in their right mind would wish to eliminate their conscience, that small voice in our heads which restrains us when we veer off center? It appears that is the objective of both sides. The absence of conscience is the definition of a psychopath. These are two irreconcilable realities. On one one hand, healthy conversation and community, require dissent; on the other, dissent is disruptive and produces polarization. Perhaps it is not an either or proposition. Context and quality of dissent are important factors. The structured context and legal venue of SCOTUS permits dissent to function positively. In our current society where tribalism prevails, dissent is a threat to our respective tribe and is rejected.
I am of the opinion that the path to change and resolution runs through smaller groups in community. In that context relationships can be developed and dissenting voices can be heard. Only when trust prevails and fear is overcome will society will become more healthy and flourish.
Dissent is like fertilizer, over application destroys, but the proper amount, applied correctly produces abundance.
I often wonder where I would be without dissent in my life
Reading a recent post by Pete Enns, I was challenged to do some self-assessment. Self-assessment is not my preferred activity since it usually brings disappointment. However, it is probably the most useful, and hopefully productive, exercise a human being can engage in. No pain no gain! I would recommend reading the entire post but, one section in particular caught my attention and is the subject of this post.
Is it true? Vs Does it work?
This difference comes down to Modernism and Postmodernism. Modernism attempts to construct a coherent worldview through the pursuit of an absolute truth. The Church’s response was to make a fact-based case for Christianity—e.g., eight reasons why Jesus was historically real, five reasons why the resurrection is true, etc.
Postmodernism, on the other hand, is marked by relativism and individualism, which has produced a culture defined by the phrase “you do you.” The value proposition for a Postmodern person is whether or not something works. “What works for me works for me, leave me alone.” This is where searchers reside, and they are not initially looking for a 200-page book of claims or a bulletproof sermon. They would rather taste and see whether what is offered is good.
In other words, the modernist asks the question “Is it true?” whereas the postmodernist asks, “Does it work?” And if it works, then for the postmodernist, it is true–because truth is found in something that works.
This is not to say that facts do not matter to the postmodernist. But the searcher says, “If something gives me peace, relieves my stress, gives me satisfaction, or provides a feeling of transcendence, then it works, and it surely must be true.” This is the story I’ve heard when Ivy League-educated lawyers in New York convert to Buddhism—it gives them an experience of peace.
It is my perception that “my people” generally have a negative view of postmodernism and would mostly categorize themselves as modernist as Enns describes. That is how I tend to assess myself, but, candidly, I am probably a chameleon.
Thinking about “Is it true?” vs “Does it work?”, and assessing my value proposition, I was struck by the predominance of “does it work?” in decision making. Of course, “does it work?’ is an important consideration. The problem comes when “Does it work?” trumps “Is it true?”.
The purpose of Enns’ post Is primarily to address ministry to the postmodern culture. It occurred to me that those issues are not confined to church but are also relevant to society in general, more specifically to our tribal and individual value propositions. That lead me to some self assessment.
Betraying my postmodern, relativistic bent; for purposes of self-evaluation, I revised “Does it work?” to “Is it best?”. Truth is important but, pragmatically, my decisions are most often between what works and what is best. What I discovered is disturbing. My propensity to chose what works over what is best has deep implications and reveals the depth of my vulnerability to trajectories that are, at least, ill advised and at worst destructive.
Further consideration brought me to a conclusion that what I am doing is simply mirroring the ethos of our deeply divided and chaotic culture. No matter what ideology is held the prevailing value is ‘does it work?”. Whether it is true or best is irrelevant because if it works, it is true (best). It not necessary for it to really work, uncompromising belief that it will work is enough. I believe that ethic transcends the modernist/postmodernist dichotomy. As a result, the peril of deciding what is true(best) on its utilitarian efficacy Is more than troubling.
I suspect many of “my people” are in the boat with me. I want to think that truth is my propositional value but when subjected to serious self-assessment, “does it work?” often wins the day.
I’m still reflecting on the implications of that reality for me.
A couple of years ago I heard a lesson in which the speaker presented an interesting question: “What does it feel like to be a Christian?” It is an intriguing question, particularly for me. Growing up, feelings were not something that was important. In fact, to express a feeling about what you believed would immediately discredit your belief i.e. “I just feel as …”. What was most important was truth … objective, verifiable and certain. Feelings were not apart of a truth equation. In that context, feeling like a Christian would most likely be akin to the the feelings we enjoy when we are proven to be right. A sense of self-satisfaction, self-rightness. It is a great feeling to know that you KNOW.
Describing what it feels like to be a Christian takes on a different dimension when the question is modified. “What does it feel like to have Christ living in you?”… What does it feel like when you are abiding in Christ and he is abiding in you?”… “What does it feel like when the Holy Spirit lives within you?” …”What does it feel like when you no longer live but Christ lives in you?” What these questions, and numerous other similiar ones we might ask, presume/imply is an intimate relationship.
I do not suppose there is a “correct” answer but there are two metaphors I have used that I believe helpful in my search to understand what it feels like to be Christian. The first metaphor comes out of my own childhood experiece and the second is one I read and have long since forgotten its source.
One of my earliest childhood memories is an occasion when I was riding in the back seat of our family’s car. My mother and father were in the front seat. It was a summer evening and we were driving home. The windows were down and the cool wind was blowing across the backseat. I had curled up on the seat and was listening to my parents’ casual conversation. I distinctly remember the overwhelming sense of comfort and safety as we drove along. The breeze was like a refreshing warm shower. My parents voices were audible remeinders of their presence and protection. Even now as I write these words while on my front porch, there is a gentle breeze blowing across my neck that recalls that occasion. I cannot explain how such an apparently insignificant experience has remained with me. In that experience I believe there may well be a glimpse of what it feels like to be Christian.
The second metaphor is a scene in a lovely city park. A park with lush green grass and tall shading trees. There is a playground with a child and his mother. While the mother is seated on a nearby bench, the child, by all appearances, seems to be totally unware his mother’s presence. He is happily playing and exploring. It is obvious his mother is continually aware of him but he he is not concerned. He knows that she is there and that she loves and cares for him but his focus is on being a boy. Only his occasional glance to verify her presence betrays his concern for her presence and protection. Suddenly the scene changes dramatically, playing on the gym bars, the child loses his grip and falls to the ground suffering a painful scrape to his knees. In that moment, he cries out for his mother and rushes without hesitation to her arms where he is comforted, reassured and healed by her gentle kisses. In a short time he returns to his play confident in his trust of his mother.
As is often the case when I write on a subject, related or relevant thoughts and ideas seem to mysteriously (coincidentally?) appear. That was the case in my last post on Post Modernism and Sharing Good News. This post is similar in that the subject post from Richard Beck stimulated another perspective for me to consider in reimagining evangelism:
“Is my understanding of sharing good news consistent with the nature and character of the kingdom of God? “
Beck’s questions at the end of his post are helpful to me in addressing my question.
It’s not news that Jesus was drawn to agricultural metaphors when we shared parables about the Kingdom of God. But I’ve been thinking about that more and more, wondering what Jesus was getting at.
Specifically, I was reading in Mark 4 where Jesus compares the kingdom to planting and seeds three times in quick succession.
The Parable of the Sower: “A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path…seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold.”
The Parable of the Seed: “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
The Parable of the Mustard Seed: “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
Of course, each parable has its own particular interpretation. The seed needs receptive soil. The seed grows on its own. The seed will grow beyond its humble beginnings. Each of these, held together, provides a window into how Jesus thought about what he was doing in the gospels.
But what I want to ask is this: Is there something significant in thinking about the kingdom in these agricultural terms?
What strikes me is that, given the military and conquest expectations Israel had for her Messiah, these agricultural metaphors seem very unexpected. When you think of “kingdom” you don’t, I expect, tend to stare at a seed growing, day after day. When you think of “kingdom” you think of armies, walls, territory, and power. You think of Empire.
And then here comes Jesus with something that sounds like this: “The Kingdom of God is like watching grass grow.” How anti-Empire is that vision? And watching the grass grow is a strange sort of Revolution. Watching the grass grow isn’t, I’m guessing, anyone’s view of The Resistance.
Some other thoughts:
What does it mean that the kingdom is sown rather than taken?
What does it mean that the kingdom requires waiting and passivity rather than forcing and activity?
What does it mean that the kingdom begins with the smallest thing rather than the largest?
All that to say, I think there is something deeply subversive going on in Jesus’s agricultural parables.
